The Female of the Species (standard:science fiction, 3538 words)
Author: Otzchiim	Added: Sep 16 2000	Views/Reads: 5346/2833	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
What Dr. Franklin had done seemed odd at first, then scandalous, then wonderful in a terrifying way.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


In the second September, Rita went to college but still lived at home. 
In April of her freshman year, she vanished completely.     She 
vanished as far as her parents were concerned, but Dr. Franklin found 
her again.  Whether he called in an old favor or simply knew someone 
who could easily get the information, he found her within a month.  She 
had been picked up thirty miles away in Washington on charges of 
soliciting for prostitution and was identified by her fingerprints.  
She was classed as a minor for the vice charges but she was over the 
age of consent, so she was given the benefit of the doubt about not 
informing her parents. 

Dr. Franklin contacted her and had extensive interviews with her. 
Whether he became a customer of hers to do so (or of his own will, for 
that matter) cannot be determined from the records.  It is clear that 
when she had been arrested three times in two days for harassing 
passersby by offering her body, he brought her back to Baltimore, took 
her into his home, and kept her in a locked room there. 

He repeated this several times over the five years until his death, and
experimented on her with various drugs to ease her through these mental 
and emotional aberrations.  The only thing which seemed to have any 
significant effect was a plain strong sedative. 

His notes indicate that she used contraceptives regularly -- except
during these aberrant periods, when she could not remember even to take 
a pill.  Despite these lapses, she never became pregnant.  Or rather, 
she did so repeatedly, but always had a prompt spontaneous abortion. 

I must admit to being amused at the passing thought that this was
evidence for the truth of the old joke about hereditary sterility, but 
there is really no possible connection between the woman's evident 
inability to carry a child and her father's low sperm count. 

The psychological abnormalities seemed to have no proper connection to
Dr. Franklin's work, past or present, and I wondered why he had not 
long before given over Rita Riley's care to an analyst. 

The press of business brought on by carrying Dr. Franklin's patients in
addition to my own kept me from gathering the information given above 
until some months after the doctor's heart attack. I had only recently 
finished skimming the file on Rita Riley when I received a telephone 
call from her. 

Her voice was hesitant, even timid, and asked in a whispered tone if I
had been told about her by Dr. Franklin.  I responded that he had never 
mentioned her to me, but that I had his notes on her and had read them. 
 There was a pause, and then she said that I might at least know enough 
to be of some help and she wanted to see me soon -- because she felt an 
interlude coming on. 

I was unsure that I could help this woman in any substantial way, but I
could not in good conscience refer her elsewhere without trying to be 
sure of where to send her.  Dr. Franklin plainly knew something of the 
problem which he had not written down in anything which I had seen, and 
perhaps an interview and examination would provide the missing pieces. 

The interview revealed that while Miss Riley was still estranged from
her parents, she had long ago given up the life of a prostitute.  She 
was now employed as an office-worker and book- keeper for a temporary 
staffing agency.  This, she said, provided her with the flexibility 
which she needed during the spring and early summer.  I felt this to be 
a case of healthy adaptation to an unhealthy situation. 

My physical examination showed that Miss Riley had pubic hair which
extended  above her navel and down to her upper thighs. This is 
uncommon in a woman, though much less so in a man, of course.  Of more 
interest was that the hair was light in color and straight, also soft 
to the touch. 

The external body was otherwise undistinguished.  The usual oral tests
and so forth showed nothing out of the ordinary.  She seemed more 
graceful and supple than most women of her age, and I must admit 
thinking that this would have been to her advantage when she was 
working the streets. 

A gynecological examination (which is within my specialty) turned up no
clear abnormalities, though I felt that something was a little off.  I 
could not decide quite what it might be and wrote it off to the 
after-effects of some disease contracted during the period of 
prostitution. 

Miss Riley explained to me that the late arrival of spring this year had
given her hope that her cycles of strong sexual desire were a thing of 
the past.  But the unmistakable signs had begun to appear and she 
almost panicked when she called Dr. Franklin's answering service and 
learned of his death. 

She had a normal level of physical desire during the rest of the year,
and a moderate sexual activity, but she had been unwilling to commit to 
a long-term relationship because of those periodic aberrations.  Also, 
she had only been able to reach fulfillment at any time through 
masturbation. 

Rita had related to Dr. Franklin that the early periods of intense
sexual activity had been ones of alternation between intercourse and 
masturbation.  Dr. Franklin had noted that the later ones, in his 
locked room, had been marked by frequent manipulation whenever she 
returned to consciousness. 

It is of course true that nymphomania was linked to a lack of
fulfillment.  But this was not quite nymphomania, and I had a feeling 
that there was another factor to be weighed in here. 

Rita begged me to let her stay in a side room somewhere and be sedated
through the episode that she was sure was coming up.  I was sure that 
this was the wrong answer in the long run, but I was also sure that she 
would leave, never to return, if I suggested a mental institution to 
her.  And of course she was completely normal now. 

My own curiosity tipped the balance.  I wanted to observe this physical
and emotional shift for myself. 

My offices have two examination rooms.  I normally alternate their use,
and almost never have both occupied. It was only a matter of moments, 
especially with Miss Riley's help, to put a stronger lock on one of 
them.  Miss Riley moved in with a cot on Friday morning.  The change 
began late Friday afternoon, and from her experience it should be over 
by noon on Monday, perhaps earlier. 

We were fortunate in this timing, both in that she would miss only two
days of work and in that there would be a minimum of interference with 
my own practice.  I left Miss Riley meals and pills at intervals over 
that weekend, and encountered a problem only once. 

This was the occasion when I entered the room while she was fully awake.
 She threw back her sheet and implored me to make love to her on the 
floor.  If there had been a more comfortable place, I probably would 
have. 

A strong musky smell came from her, more discernible and erotic from a
few feet away than I had ever known it to be from the distance usual 
for OB-GYN work.  This was stronger than the usual menstrual or 
unwashed odors, both of which I had encountered many times. 

I retreated hastily.  She fumbled at the door for a moment, but gave up.
The pills had left enough residue to make her weak and loggy. 

The advent of Miss Riley had jogged me into examining more closely the
other files in Dr. Franklin's special section.  I discovered one folder 
from a year or so before the impregnations which were the subjects of 
the other files, and buried beneath them in the cartons which I had 
been shipped. 

I spent that Saturday and Sunday reading this new folder and weighing
its implications.  This answered many questions I had, but it raised a 
host of others. 

Dr. Donald Franklin had made a number of lucky guesses and gone much
further, in terms of numbers, than the Human Genome Project had in 
identifying the locations of individual human characteristics.  Also of 
the characteristics of felis concolor, the cougar or puma.  And he had 
found a way to blend the two selectively. 

This animal, he said, had been used over others because it had a
body-weight roughly comparable to the human. 

The reason that Rita Riley underwent these abrupt changes is that she
was, in some measure, a female cat going into heat! 

She had returned to normal on Monday morning, but I asked her to stay
until my patients had left for the afternoon.  I explained to her then 
that the reason why she had never had a successful pregnancy, would 
probably never have children, was that she was a forced hybrid and 
almost certainly sterile.  I told her all that I had learned. 

Rita sat and thought for a very long time, and then she asked me if this
was also the reason that she had never felt sexually satisfied with a 
man.  I told her that this was possible, and that there might have been 
a genetic reason for the gynecological variation which I had suspected. 


She swallowed hard and asked me then if I were quite sure that there
were no others like her left alive.  I began to answer yes, I was 
certain, but then I recalled that I had only found the most important 
file two days before.  I could only swear that there was no other large 
file. 

At my home we looked through Dr. Franklin's special files together. 
There were fourteen folders in all: Rita's, that on the gene 
identifications and procedures for mixing genes, eleven on children who 
died in infancy, and one on a boy named Alexander Morris. 

This boy's mother died of cancer when he was eleven; his father followed
not long after in an auto accident where his drinking from grief was 
involved.  Alexander was sent to live with an aunt in Omaha, and Dr. 
Franklin's information was very spotty from that point on.  It ended 
about six years before, when the boy left home.  The aunt had no 
knowledge of his whereabouts. There were no reports of any physical or 
emotional irregularities or of difficulties with the police. 

Dr. Franklin had reached a dead end here.  I felt that I had also, but I
brooded on it.  Three days later I wrote the Center for Disease Control 
in Atlanta.  I told them that I had taken over the records of Dr. 
Donald Franklin, that there was reason to contact Alexander Morris 
about a possibly life-threatening genetic disease, and that he could 
not be reached at his last known address.  Almost the truth, as you can 
see. 

They took all the information I had on him, footprints, fingerprints,
and all.  The answer came back that Morris had been inducted into the 
Army at the age of eighteen, not long after leaving his aunt.  He had 
been discharged across the country four years later, but he was now 
back in his birthplace and working as a martial arts instructor.  I had 
not thought to look in the telephone directory. 

I called Alexander Morris and convinced him with some difficulty to come
to my office.  On the evening of April 25th, which was a Tuesday, I 
told him about Dr. Franklin's experiments, and that he was one of them. 
 I told him about all of his parentage.  He took it calmly; he was, I 
found, an almost unnaturally calm person, though never totally serious 
about anything. 

I have come to think that this philosophy was necessary for his sanity,
as well as being absorbed from his training in martial arts.  His 
reaction to the news was slower than Rita's, though he had her same 
flowing poise.  I did not tell him about Rita. 

The physical examination showed a pattern of hair unusually extensive
even for a male.  The only clear abnormality, however, was the hair on 
his penis.  Unlike the rest of his hair, this was stiff and wiry.  He 
confessed that the women he had been with had all complained about that 
and his only sexual experience in some years was through his hand. 

When Alexander Morris left my office, he left me with a decision to
make.  Now that I knew for certain that two of Dr. Franklin's induced 
hybrids had lived to adulthood, should I tell them of each other's 
existence?  My own perspective as a fertility specialist may have 
colored my feeling here, but could I in good conscience do otherwise? 

They were almost certainly incapable of having children, and indeed they
would probably not even be attracted to each other -- as any man and 
woman picked at random would not be -- but I owed these two ultimate 
orphans some chance to find happiness together.     I telephoned Rita 
Riley that night and told her that I had found Alexander Morris.  I 
told her that I knew where he lived and I asked if she would be 
interested in meeting him, assuming that he was willing.  I asked if 
she wanted him even to know that there was another surviving 
experiment. 

Rita said that she would be eager for both, and wanted to know when this
meeting would be. 

I replied that she and Mr. Morris would perhaps need some time to be
prepared for the encounter, and therefore I would suggest early 
Saturday afternoon, at my home.  Rita paused and said that she thought 
she could hold out that long.  I thought that her phrasing was intended 
to be humorous. 

I immediately called Alexander Morris, and told him that I now had
permission to tell him that there was another surviving experiment.  I 
told him about Rita Riley, and asked if he would want to meet her on 
Saturday.  He quickly agreed, but he asked if the three of us could 
meet at his apartment instead.  There seemed no reason not to go along 
with this. 

The night ended with another call to Rita, to confirm the day and time
and note the change of location.  She seemed even happier about that. 

Since my home, Rita's apartment, and Mr. Morris's were almost in a
straight line across the city, I picked up Rita at ten minutes to one 
and arrived at the meeting place at one in the afternoon. They seemed 
awkward and uncertain toward each other, which I suppose was 
inevitable. 

Rita fidgeted in her chair, as she had on the way over, and asked: 

"Dr. Rubin, both Alex and I had in a way three parents each. But I have
wondered for the last few days, is the total five or six?" 

"I have also wondered about that," said Mr. Morris.  "Did the same
cougar provide the genetic material for both of us?" 

"Why, no," I replied.  "Dr. Franklin had twelve cougars, and I recall
that the only one who was used twice was the first one used.  That 
child was a stillbirth, so the total would be six parents, so to speak. 
 But I don't see how that would matter."     But they had stopped 
listening to me.  After my first two words they had begun looking at 
each other very intently.  Rita said softly, "I think I'll stay a 
while." 

She opened her legs a bit, where before she had kept them close
together.  The musky smell that I had noted three weeks before was 
back.  She was plainly into the second day of her estrus. 

The effect on Alexander was very strong and immediate.  When he stood
up, I saw that he had an erection, and saw also that the stiff hairs on 
it poked through the cloth. 

He took Rita's hand and mumbled something about apologizing for leaving
me alone as they went into his bedroom.  Not long after I heard Rita's 
repeated shriek of satisfaction. 

Alexander told me fifteen minutes later that he was going to drive Rita
home later and that there was no reason for me to stay now.  I agreed. 

That "later" was Sunday afternoon, I learned, when Rita had reverted to
her more usual pattern. They were married as soon as the law allowed.  
All of Dr. Franklin's relevant papers have been passed on to the Human 
Genome Project at Johns Hopkins, with my own notes.  I did not include 
the information that Dr.  Franklin's chief experiments had met, or even 
their correct names.  I felt that no purpose could be served by 
invading the privacy of these two innocent people. 

That is how I felt at the time.  It has been a year since the two were
introduced, and I have had second thoughts brought on by a new problem, 
or rather a potential problem. 

I have discovered that I was wrong about the sterility resulting from
forced hybridization.  Rita had triplets last night, two boys and a 
girl.  One of them hasn't opened his eyes yet. 


Tweet