“Well, you see…”
Hank Honore, Dr. Hank Honore, was nervous.
That was not all that abnormal in the lab, but Dr. Honore moved like something was going to eat him, quick darting motions that settled down only when nobody was looking at him.
Cara thought it was cute, in the sort of way that made her want to eat him. Alex was not as impressed.
Of course, Alex was never impressed.
“Do continue,” Alex urged.
“Ah! Well, you see. It turns out they’ve got almost all the right skills already. And since we were working with the Moreau model anyway, it was easy enough to tweak it.”
“What project were you working on again?” Cara was supposed to know that, but she couldn’t remember the Moreau model being in play recently.
“Oh, Dr. Westfield asked me to help her, and since I’m new, well, I help wherever I can. Want to be useful, you know. So anyway, Califord Island, that project we were trying to get off the ground as a resort? It was having some traffic snags, and we didn’t want real police because, well… issues.”
“Time to get to the point,” Alex offered lazily.
“Yes, yes, ah. Well. It turns out that if you go with mostly heron and just a little bit of human DNA, you end up with a very nice traffic cop… as long as you don’t mind peck marks in the cars sometimes.”
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