Catherine walked past the dead sled dogs. Yes, they were capable of surviving in the arctic wilderness. And she certainly respected them. Without their sacrifice, she surely would have been killed. But Catherine just felt that she would have a better chance of survival as an animal that considered this hostile environment its home. The sled dogs had adapted to the cold, but it was not their natural habitat. Catherine likewise bypassed the arctic hare. It's speed would have been a great help, but she would just be too vulnerable to dangerous predators. Thus, she choose the biggest, most dangerous animal available.
If you are going to do it, you might as well go big, thought Catherine as she approached the body of the mighty predator.
The body of the dead orca lay just on the shore beside her camp, half in and out of the water. One of the dogs still sat inside its large mouth, its bones crushed by the force of its powerful jaws. It had taken quite a few shots to bring it down. Catherine still felt apprehensive approaching it, as if the monster might suddenly rear up and attack her. But one of the shots had been lucky, shooting through its brain and leaving a large bloody exit wound at the back of its head. There was no way it could still be alive.
The shot was truly fortunate for her. The small needle of the syringe would never have penetrated the tough skin of the orca. But the open wound allowed her to collect more than enough blood for the procedure. She attached the full syringe to the top of the injector gun, slowly depressing the plunger and adding the blood to the volatile mixture of hormones, retrovirus and stem cells already stored inside. It was probably just her imagination, but Catherine could swear she felt the injector gun get warmer as the solutions mixed together. It was almost like the serum was eager to begin its work.
Catherine eyed the injector gun nervously. The needle was very long and very sharp. It was designed to penetrate the membrane of small cells, not for human comfort. But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Am I really going to do this? thought Catherine.
A cruel bitterly cold gust of wind blew past her, almost as if Nature was answering her question.
Well, here goes nothing. Or everything, I guess, thought Catherine, as she held the injector gun against her skin and pulled the trigger.