A "Winds of Change" Story

By Brian Eirik Coe

The incessant ringing of the phone woke me.

Reaching out with a wing, I slapped the receiver off the cradle. The ringing stopped, but I could still dimly hear the recorded, overly chipper voice on the other end of the line. "Good Morning! This is your requested wake up call. Click Good Morning! This is your requested wake up call..."

I closed my eyes tighter in a fruitless effort to keep the sound out. Thankfully, the voice was cut off as Kim hung up the phone. "Good morning." She said in a voice that was definitely not as chipper as the recorded one. "Did you ask for a wake up call at 6 a.m.?" She asked in a slightly accusatory tone.

Finally relenting, I opened my eyes and shrugged my wings. I'd slept in norm form the night before, as I had since I discovered that I could take that shape. I'd simply found it more relaxing. Hopping off the bed, I shifted back to morph. "Sorry, I thought I warned you."

Kim groaned a little and rolled off her bed. She was still nursing that broken wing, so didn't dare shift to norm for the time being. "Maybe, but I don't think well at this time in the morning. Let me get a cup of coffee first."

She made a beeline for the small complimentary coffee maker and started fiddling with it. I watched her prepare the small pot, eagerly waiting to see how she was going to drink it around her beak. It didn't look like the hotel provided any straws.

I shook my head and started getting myself ready for the day. In a little under two hours I needed to be at my prospective school and ready for this second interview. The worst part was I didn't really know what to expect. Something told me it would be a little different than the previous interview.

A furious knocking at the door snapped me back to the present. We heard a muffled voice through the door. "Brian! Kim! It's Maxine! Jon's gone!"

Kim and I exchanged a glance before she hopped the two steps to the door and pulled it open. "What do you mean, he's gone?"

Maxine rushed into the room, clearly agitated. "I went over to his room a few minutes ago and found this note." She said handing it to me. "And his car isn't in the parking lot!"

I looked at her and at the note. It simply said I've got something I need to do. I'll be back later. Jon. I handed it to Kim. "He didn't say anything last night about going somewhere, did he?" Maxine and Kim both shook their heads in unison. I thought a second. "Well, let's ask Tim and Bryan. Maybe he told one of them."

Maxine nodded and wordlessly jogged down the hall to Tim's room. Kim and I went the opposite direction to Bryan's. "Do you think he's okay?" she asked.

I laughed. "Jon's nearly indestructible, Kim. I really wouldn't worry. But this isn't like him. Not at all." I said as I knocked on the door.

There was a slight groan from inside and the creaking of bed springs. As he opened the door, it was obvious that we'd gotten Bryan straight out of bed. He squinted into the hall. "Morning." He blinked a couple times, slowly waking up.

"Morning. Sorry to wake you up so early." Started Kim, throwing a quick scowl my way, " but did Jon tell you he was going somewhere today?"

Bryan's eyes widened a bit. "What? No. Why?"

"He's not here. It looks like he took off this morning." I said, handing him the note.

His eyes flew back and forth across the page. "What?" he breathed.

Maxine showed up next to us. "Tim doesn't know what we're talking about, but he looks hung over." She looked quickly at Bryan. "You two get drunk or something?" She said in an agitated tone.

Bryan opened his mouth to speak, but Kim cut him off. "Calm down, Maxine. Don’t worry. Something must have just come up. I'm sure he'll be back."

Maxine didn't calm much, but at least she took a few deep breaths. "You're right. He wouldn't have just abandoned us. What do we do about today? Should we just wait for him?"

Bryan shook his head. "No, there isn't any reason to do that. He knows where we're going. Besides, Eric is meeting us at nine this morning."

I looked quickly at my watch. "And I've got an interview in a little over an hour. I'd better get ready." I went back to my room and gathered together everything I thought I'd need for the day. I checked myself in the mirror and ran a taloned finger through the feathers on my head. I definitely looked a lot different than I did that cold December morning last year when I first interviewed. I even felt different. Then, it was the most nerve racking experience of my life. Now, after the Change and everything that had come because of it, it wasn't a big deal.

Bidding my good byes to the group, and making arrangements to meet later after my interview, I strapped on my flight computer, took off and flew for downtown.

You could almost smell the tension in the air, even without a particularly sensitive nose. It was certainly plain to the eye. The small group waiting for their own re-interviews were all fidgeting around in the room. It was quiet save for the tense turning of magazine pages in the hands of a hi degree red fox morph. A few other morphs, a koala, a tern, a couple of rodents and a walrus, of various degrees filled out the rest of the waiting prospective students.

I passed the time letting my eyes wander over the impressive woodwork around the room. An ancient wood burning fireplace sat against the far wall of the room, heavy brass candlesticks and flowers decorating the impressive marble and granite mantle. It was obvious that no one had lit a fire in there for years, the building had certainly been refit for central heating, but a fresh pile of wood was at the ready.

A low degree chocolate Labrador morph appeared at the door to the office, holding a small clipboard. "Can I see Jenny Duke, please?" The koala morph rocked off the sofa and onto her feet, smoothing out her blouse as she did so. The pair shook hands in the doorway and stepped into the office.

I sighed and decided to at least try and read something while I waited. It had always relaxed me a bit, and all this waiting was starting to make me nervous. I started looking through a newsmagazine idly, then dropped it when I realized that it was a pre-Change issue. There had to be some requirement that these things be outdated in a waiting room…

Another person, a gray squirrel morph of high degree, appeared in the doorway. "Brian Coe?" he asked.

Reflexively, I raised my hand a little as I stepped over. I silently hoped that this person wasn't to affected by instinct or this interview could go very badly. "Right here."

We shook hands. "Mimi Peabody. Just follow me." She said, without a trace of nervousness. We entered her office at the end of the hall, and she motioned at a roughly constructed perching block. "Go ahead and have a seat, or whatever you birds do." She said with a slight smile as she sat in a modified office chair.

As soon as we were both settled, she opened my file and said, "First of all, don't worry about making me upset. I'm perfectly well aware that you're not going to leap across the desk and eat me." She paused for a beat, "You aren't, are you?"

I chuckled. "No, I ate on the way in, so I'm fine. Besides, bald eagle eat fish most of the time."

She smiled warmly and looked back at my file. "The reason that we're doing these re-interviews is to make sure that our students are still capable of functioning as optometrists." She gave me the once-over. "Frankly, most of the applicants that we've reconsidered have been predator morphs of high degree." I started to open my beak to respond, but she help up a hand. "Don't worry, we're not planning on denying you just because of your morph form. What we need to know from you is if you can still do this."

I tilted my head. "I'm not sure I understand."

Peabody tapped her paw on the table. "What I mean is, do you think that you'll be able to withstand the pull of instincts while you're in close quarters?"

I thought a second. "I don't think that I'll have a problem, no. I've never been badly effected by my instincts at all. Despite what I look like, I'm perfectly aware of what's acceptable behavior."

"And if people were scared of you because of your form?" she asked.

I shrugged a little, resisting the urge to simple alter my form. Several of the other birds of prey that I could become looked surprisingly gentle, but that's not what she wanted to know. "Frankly, some people aren't going to be comfortable around me. Understand that I've become acutely aware of that over the last few months. I look fierce and some people can't get past that. I'll do what I can, but that's all I can do."

She nodded slightly as she jotted down something on my file. "Are there any Powers that you have that we should know about?"

"Well, one." I said as I shifted to a gyrfalcon morph.

She glanced up to see what I was talking about and did a double take. "Polymorph?" she asked after a pause.

I nodded. "Limited, actually. Just birds of prey."

She actually laughed at that. "Oh, that's perfect." She opened a drawer and pulled out a flier. "We've been trying to get a bunch of different morphs in to the clinic to start finding new baselines for our tests. When the Change happened, some people had fundamental changes in their ability to see, as I'm sure you're aware." I nodded. "Well, we need to figure out what normal is for a lot of different morphs." She chuckled. "We've been having trouble getting bird of prey morphs in for exams. It seems that even poor vision for someone like you is far and away better than what we used to have. You'll be a popular study subject."

"Sounds like---fun." I said, noncommittally. I didn't relish being examined in every morph form I could do. As far as I knew, I could do hundreds.

She didn't seem to notice my reluctance. "Oh, this is an interesting time for optometry." She said. "We've got a lot of things to learn, and we'll be doing it for decades. There are already studies going on to see if the use of Powers effects vision, particularly those Powers that seem to emanate from the eye, studies on the effect of norm shifting, and all sorts of neurological…" She looked embarrassed for a second. "Sorry, I do go on, don't I?"

I shrugged. "Not really. It's good to know that this is all going on. And I'd like to be a part of it."

Peabody seemed to accept that. "Okay." She said as she wrote some notes on a form. "Let's go on to some more practical areas."

For the next half hour, she asked me a lot of questions regarding things like my manual dexterity and my willingness to trim my hand talons. I was going to be called on to so sometimes delicate work, and they needed to know that all their students could manage it physically. Optical equipment is expensive, so modifications would be years in the future.

As the interview came to a close, she reached across the desk to shake my hand. "Realize that I can't make a final choice now, but I'll submit my recommendation to the committee to admit you when we start the new term next September. I really don't see a problem."

I shook her paw-like hand vigorously. "Thank you!" I said. It truly felt that a weight had come off my shoulders, one that I didn't even realize that I had . With all the activities of the last few weeks, there hadn't been time to realize that this was all on my back.

I left the building feeling like I was floating. I paused on the steps of the school to get my bearings, norm shifted, and took off to meet everyone for lunch.

For the most part, the rest of the afternoon was completely uneventful. I had managed to catch up with the everyone for lunch downtown. Jon was still absent, and Maxine was still upset. She had been calling the hotel every chance that she had and left messages for him, but so far hadn't managed to get in touch with him.

I truthfully wasn't worried about Jon, at least not at the moment. I was more worried about what Tim would do to him when he finally showed up. It wasn't going to be a bonding experience, that's for sure.

Beyond the historical aspect, the tour was interesting in other ways. Despite the rather massive changes in the people, the world seemed to have a distinct sense of normalcy to it. People were still bustling about their business, street vendors were still hawking their souvenirs or food (I won't even go into some of the things we saw sold) and the horse drawn handsome carriages that Boston was so well known for were everywhere.

Eric drew our attention to one of the coaches coming down the street. "Take a look at that." We all looked, but didn't see anything all that strange. The driver was some low degree reptile, impossible to make out a species, and the cart had no passengers. "That's not a real horse. It's someone in norm."

"How do you know?" I asked.

He shrugged. "The driver doesn't look like he has a clue what he's doing, and the horse seems a little off for a real one. The tack isn't right, either. No blinders. Besides, it's not a normal carriage horse at all. Some of the operators have been hiring students to pull the carriages. They say it's cheaper than buying a real one, since they don't even have to feed these guys."

We all watched as the horse and carriage passed us by. Tim shook his head derisively. "Leave it to Americans to make a buck off something like this."

Maxine shook her head as we all started back down the street. "Don't speak so fast. I understand that the Mounted Police are hiring people to work as mounts for the same reason."

Tim just grumbled something unintelligible and went back to glowering. The guy was nothing if not consistent.

Later in the afternoon, the basic tour of the city done, we all headed back to the hotel. Eric split off from us at that point, saying that he needed to take care of a few errands. We did plan on meeting him at the local horse racing track, Suffolk Downs, the next day. It wasn't originally the plan, but it was the first time that Tim had been interested to do anything since he came along. Besides, we had one more day to kill before we had to meet the doctor at Harvard to probe Maxine and Bryan's Powers.

As the sun set, there still was no word from Jon. Maxine had been mellowing out a little through the afternoon, the tour taking her mind off his absence. But now the day was gone with no word at all. The more upset that she became, the more angry Tim was. By the time that she started to cry, he looked ready to rend Jon limb from limb.

With nothing else to do, we waited. After going to the desk to check for messages, Bryan excused himself for an hour or so, explaining that he had to call someone. He joined the rest of us afterward in the lobby to wait for the absent whitetail.

Jon's arrival was definitely not anti-climactic.

Walking in the door, Jon looked different somehow. Not physically, but there was definitely something different about him. But before he could explain where he'd gone off too, Tim was already on the attack.

Surprisingly, Jon was able to fend off the raging bull morph without the use of his shield. It was certain that his arms would be badly bruised under that fur, but he would retain the overall shape of his face for another day. There wasn't any telling what might happen once Tim managed to find Jon alone, away from the prompt action of the hotel security staff.

Still panting from the fight, Jon casually looked at me and asked, "So, How'd your interview go?"

I blinked at him. "It went fine. Where the hell have you been?"

He looked a little embarrassed. "I've been up in New Hampshire. I don't think that I can really explain it…"

"Try." Said Maxine icily.

He looked back at Maxine. "My instincts were calling me up there. I had to go." He hugged her, "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but I can't really explain it right now. I need to get my bearings again before I can. But I'm whole again."

All of us exchanged glances. I think we were all thinking the same thing: Not if Tim gets a hold of you, you're not.

The crowd the next morning at the track was fairly light. It didn't take any of us long to discover why Tim had been so interested in going to the track: he was a bit of a gambler. Finding that they were still an hour from the first race at this track, he went to the off-track betting area and started plunking down money. It was just too bad that he didn't seem to pick horses that could win.

The rest of us took up spots along the raceway fence and watched the grounds crew prepare the track. Other than Eric and Tim, none of us had set foot in a racetrack before, so he found himself explaining quite a bit.

The question of people racing as horses in norm came up, but he shook his head. "Not at this track. Technically, it's not considered horse racing that way, so it's illegal in this state. I guess they're getting ready to do it out in California, though." He indicated some people in official jackets examining the horses in the paddock. "They're supposed to be making sure that none of these are people."

As the first race prepared to run, Tim showed up again looking a little more pleased with himself. He'd managed to pick a winner from a race in Kentucky to make up for most of what he'd already lost. Now he was hoping for a big windfall here. He was so intent on the horses and the odds that he seemed to completely forget that he was mad at Jon, who still hadn't told us much about what had happened in New Hampshire.

Things were going well until just after the third race. Bryan and Eric had just returned from the betting area, where each had picked up some winnings from the previous race, when a Hi Degree coyote morph came running out after them. "Hey! Hey!" he said, breathlessly. "You guys have to get out of here."

"What? Why?" asked Eric as the rest of us gathered around.

The coyote looked agitated. "I don't have time to explain. In about five minutes, someone is going to take a shot at you people. You've got to get out of here."

Tim glowered at the yote. "What make you so sure of that?" he grumbled. He was almost certainly planning on making back his losses.

The yote just glared back. "Look, it's your funeral. But I'm getting out of here, now. If you people are smart, you'd do the same!" he said as he took off at a light jog for the exit.

We all stood around for a second. "That was odd." Mused Kim.

Eric nodded seriously. "Yeah, but I think maybe we should take off. Given what's been going on the last few months, I wouldn't be at all surprised if that guy has some sort of precognition or something."

"Jon…?" I started, but he interrupted me.

"I've already got my shield on." He said as he held Maxine a little closer. I had to assume that mine was on as well. I just had to hope that it could stop a bullet on it's own. Last time I was in this situation, I had police body armor on to supplement it.

Bryan sighed as we were walking out. "Never a dull moment, is it?"

I turned to answer, but was cut off as something slammed into my back. Only belatedly did I recognize the popping sound of a gun being fired. I was knocked forward on top of Kim and Bryan and dazed from the impact.

The area suddenly filled with shouts and screams as hundreds of people scattered away from the gunman. But even as he pulled off two more shots it was clear that he wasn't shooting at random. Both shots hit the floor within a few feet of us. I didn't hear the ricochet from the fourth shot, though a bullet landed on the concrete as if dropped.

Jon had a bit of charge now.

I looked up in time to see the orange blast strike the gunman, sending him splaying back a few feet and knocking the gun from his hand. I only had time to note that whatever morph he was, he was covered in dark brown fur.

Tim and Jon ran over to the gunman to subdue him until Security could get there while Eric helped the rest of us off the floor. The bullet that had hit me hadn't penetrated at all, but there was already a nasty bruise forming right between my wings. "Who the hell was that?" I asked though a clenched beak.

Bryan looked over at the gunman, who was being pulled to his feel by a couple of security guards. His eyes went wide. "Oh my God." He breathed. "Mort?" he asked in a louder voice. "Mort Wakefield?" The gunman, who I now could see was a Mid Degree bighorn sheep simply locked eyes with Bryan, but said nothing.

Eric looked between them, "You know him?"

Bryan nodded absently. "Yeah. I do. He was one of the people I was helping in Morrisville."

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