The Rabbit's Den

Mr. Whitaker's Rabbit

Dr. Peterson looked on Mr. Whitaker with growing concern. "Is it just Trixie?" He asked. "You tell me. How many have been successfully created with original serum?" Mr. Whitaker's question was genuine. The doctor lowered his head to his hands, fucking Mullens. He had given up on using the serum after the original experiment had gone awry with the excess stem cells. However, Dr. Mullens had insisted on using it on the new trails. "Thirteen women, twenty-one fetuses." He murmured. Mr. Whitaker raised his eyebrow, "Is one of them Trixie?" Tears were now forming in Dr. Peterson's eyes, he shook his head. "Something went wrong with the baby, she was euthanized." The man looked at Dr. Peterson horrified, "Of course, it was too much. It is a delicate balance Dr. Peterson. How was she before we lost her?"

"She was done, she can no longer carry a child. So, I guess you'll have to wait even longer." The doctor responded smugly. Mr. Whitaker quickly spun his chair to sit in it, his eyes squinted as he leaned over his desk. "How? She would also be impervious to the virus." He sat up straight with the confidence of staring the Devil straight into the eyes, "Partial hysterectomy. It was damaged when she was shot." Mr. Whitaker's laugh was low and deep as it started, it felt like it was sending vibrations throughout the room. "Oh, old man, I usually don't do parlor tricks, but this is where I'll make an exception."

Suddenly Hehet came walking into the room holding what looked like a glowing rod, a strange smile spread across her lips. "One reason Gregory that your stepping stones have such a short life span is your inability to regenerate cells, thus the need for organ transplants, blood transfusions etcetera." He was smiling now, becoming very animated as he explained. "And if our DNA kicks in a little and your cells do begin to replicate, they go, how do I say it, bad." "Cancer?" Dr. Peterson asked. Mr. Whitaker pointed at him and smiled. "Ours however replicate and restore. It's the reason we age so slowly and outlive you by far." He stuck his pinky finger in the air, took the glowing rod from Hehet and in one motion the finger fell to the floor. A small pool of blood seeped from it. "Watch." He said, in an obvious amount of pain. Dr. Peterson watched as the blood began to slow from the man's hand, then stop. Mr. Whitaker took his other hand and wiped off the stub, the skin had formed around the wound. "In a couple days, it will be like it never happened."

The doctor looked at him with slight disgust. "You're telling me her reproductive organs will grow back?" The man smiled raising both eyebrows as if to agree, "You said partial, I'm guessing you left some in." The doctor huffed, "Then why hadn't her uterus recovered from the bullet wound?" The man waved his hands in the air, "She simply wasn't given enough time to heal. She wouldn't be able to heal as fast as we do." "So, Trixie, those babies getting ready to be born are part 'God'" Dr. Peterson asked in bemusement. Shaking his head Mr. Whitaker motioned to Hehet, "What did they call them a while back Hehet? The ones that had the aqueducts?" "Demigods." She purred. He snapped his finger, "That's it, if anything they're demi's. But I never like the term Gods. Gave your people too much to work with, too much to misguide yourselves with."

"So, what do you want with Trixie?" Dr. Peterson asked. "I want the chance to tell her the truth, which is far more than I can say for you. And with that she can make her own choices from there. The world is changing Gregory and one thing is for certain your species never like change." The doctor felt numb, he felt cold and numb. "The serum, it was you?" Mr. Whitaker held his arms up, "Who's else would it have been? She's always craved her family, that's something that can't be bred out." He felt defeated, he felt wronged and, in that moment,, if what he was being told was true he no longer needed to worry about going to hell for his misdeeds. "Why are you telling me this?" He asked, even sounding defeated.

"You're an old dear friend, Gregory. Besides when you go back who would believe the ravings of a traumatized old man? Besides, you're dying. You can feel it too." Mr. Whitaker was no longer acting delighted in his actions. He looked up at the old man with somber eyes. "You know what it is right? Never saw any of the scans come across the network, I'm guessing you never logged them." Dr. Peterson nodded and took a deep breath, "Small cell lung cancer." Mr. Whitaker took a deep breath in, like he was sniffing the air around the doctor. "It's very aggressive, you don't have much time."

"Why the big act?" Dr. Peterson asked, now he just felt tired. "Act?" He repeated. "You run WOLF, why?" "It keeps me right in the middle, I see how everything is progressing. One hundred years is nothing for us. And the act you're speaking of..." He paused and tilted his head, "The race of man loves to be reassured. If they think someone is in charge and saying this needs to be done, most will follow blindly." "False security?" Mr. Whitaker nodded, "If that's how you want to look at it. It's easier to live with hope, than to die in fear. We're not cruel doctor."

Dr. Peterson looked at him, there was something else. "What aren't you telling me?" Mr. Whitaker smiled, "What makes you think I'm keeping something from you? I'm giving information to you, that no one else in WOLF is privy to." The older man studied the statuesque face, "There is something, something more." He lightly tapped the table; the mutilated finger was now a bit longer. "The children Gregory, I want my children, all of them." Dr. Peterson shook his head, "What are you going to do to them?" The look on Mr. Whitaker's face suggested he took the doctor's question as an accusation. "They are my children, our future. They won't be subjected to any cruelty or experimentation. This is where our two species differ greatly." His eyes pierced the doctor, then he started again, "Besides, you never cared where the children were going before."

Thinking back the doctor's face went white, "You have the children?" Mr. Whitaker closed his eyes and nodded gently. "All of them, it's wasn't a lie that they were taken by loving families better suited to raise them." Dr. Peterson's head felt heavy, "But why, if they aren't yours?" His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head at the old man. "They are an evolution of their own doctor, and if they can be raised to be understanding and with empathy, they won't be as dangerous or self-destructive as the rest of you. It's time this planet had peace."