Tim hurried down the brightly lit corridor toward the security door into the observation deck. Slapping his access card to the keypad, he stepped inside. Professor Fowler stood before the observation window, dressed in a crumpled white coat, and beside her hovered a pinch-faced man in a black suit.

Tim approached. "You wanted to see me, professor?"

"I did, Tim." She gestured at the stranger. "This is Director Wang, head of research. He came to personally oversee our experiments."

Director Wang looked him up and down and sniffed. "That's him, then?"

"Yes, sir," Professor Fowler said quietly. "Out of all my assistants, I believe him to be the most... suitable. Director, are you sure we must—"

"The board is pressuring me for results. I'm sorry, but there's no other way. I'll deal with any fallout."

Tim glanced between the two of them with a polite, somewhat confused smile.

Professor Fowler sighed. "Tim, it appears that the time has come for the next stage in our research. One of us is to go inside and observe Subject Zero's reactions."

Tim's eyes widened. "Go inside?" he said with excitement. "But you always told us it wasn't safe, professor."

She winced and directed her gaze to the observation window. Subject Zero was currently lurking deep in the jungle of reinforced concrete and steel pipes that made up the enclosure. The walls were dented and cracked from the creature repeatedly ramming them with no apparent damage to itself. "There is, of course, a certain risk..."

"The knowledge we will gain far outweighs the risks," the director interjected. "Son, you've been chosen to be the first person to make direct contact with an alien. It's quite an honor."

"Wow," Tim said, wide-eyed. "Is it really okay? I'm only a junior assistant."

"I'd say that's perfect," the director said with a strange glint in his eyes.

"Then... then I'll do it," Tim said, peering at the window with excitement. "Oh man, I can't wait. I always wanted to see it up close."

The professor sent the director a strange look, as if telling him, you see?

Director Wang produced a pen and a sheath of documents in small print. "Just a small formality first, Tim. Sign these papers, and we can proceed."

He shrugged and scrawled his signature at the bottom without reading.

The director cracked a smile. "Excellent. Go ahead and prepare to enter. We will observe from up here."

Tim nodded and set off toward the hermetic hatch into the enclosure with the other two in tow. The professor borrowed his keycard, touched it to the keypad, and punched in a code.

"You're now authorized to enter and exit the enclosure. Tim, for what it's worth, I'm..." She trailed off and looked away with a complicated expression.

The director cleared his throat. "You're doing something truly important," he said, patting him on the shoulder. "Your family will be proud."

"I'm an orphan, sir."

"Indeed? You chose well, Fowler."

"Yes, sir," she said stiffly.

Tim tilted his head in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Never mind, never mind. Good luck, Tim. Your courage is an inspiration to us all."

Smiling at the praise, Tim entered the small airlock and rolled on the balls of his feet as the hatch behind him closed. Then the one in front lowered with a hiss of equalizing pressure, revealing the mess of gleaming steel and concrete. Tim inhaled deeply. A faint spicy scent he couldn't place lingered in the recycled air.

He walked into the enclosure, his steps echoing on the hard concrete, then glanced up at the observation window. The professor averted her gaze, while the director pursed his lips and motioned him onward.

He faced forward and resumed moving, squinting at the shadows cast by the jutting pipes and broken pillars of concrete. The environment was said to resemble the one Subject Zero had been found in. Tim's clearance level was too low to know the details, but rumors said the creature had been retrieved from the alien vessel they found orbiting Jupiter.

Soon he made out the contours of Subject Zero, and gasped, coming to a halt. It was the size of a hippo, six-legged, and covered head to toe in something like white fur that covered its sensory organs save for the enormous black nose—or the alien equivalent of one.

The said nose twitched, and Subject Zero swiveled its head toward him. Sliding off the pipe it had been hanging off with two legs, it landed on the ground with deceptive softness. Its hind legs coiled powerfully, and it sprang toward Tim like an oncoming truck.

He lurched backward, but an instant before the collision, the creature extended its middle leg to grab a pipe and spun around with dizzying speed. Pushing off it, the alien leapt toward another pipe, then onto a pillar. Tim watched in awe as it bounced around him almost faster than the eye could track. He hadn't seen the alien this excited since they tried offering it some apples.

At last it landed before Tim and slowly approached with a strange rhythmic gait, its enormous nose quivering. He froze, uncertain; it only now occurred to him that the professor hadn't given him any specific instructions.

Well, she always told him that he needed to show more initiative. Shrugging, he reached for the creature's nose. It let out a puff of air and recoiled.

"It's okay," he said softly. "I won't hurt you."

The creature paused, then slowly extended its nose toward his hand until they made contact. The nose was cool and slightly damp. Making a strange chuffing noise, the alien took a step back and lowered its stance. Then it lunged at Tim, swept his legs from underneath him, and threw him high into the air.

Tim screamed before he crashed onto its soft back, the impact driving the air from his lungs. It bent down, then threw him into the air once more. This time Tim managed to land on his knees and elbows and grabbed handfuls of wiry white fur. The creature made that chuffing noise again and bounded off across the enclosure.

Tim's screams turned into whoops as they barreled around at breakneck speed, the alien frolicking like an animal who was finally allowed to stretch its legs. After the exhilarating ride that left Tim dizzy, it finally stopped. Raising its shaggy head, it tapped the concrete floor with its front leg.

"Oh, you poor thing," Tim murmured. "How long have you been locked in here?"

The creature chuffed and patted out a rhythm with its legs.

"I'm sorry," Tim said. "I don't know what I can do to help."

It pattered toward the hatch and lowered itself to the ground.

Tim frowned. "I don't know if you will fit," he said, "but let's try."

Sliding off the alien's back, he approached the hatch and pressed his card to the keypad. The door slid open. He yelped as the creature shot past him in a blur, somehow squeezing its enormous bulk through the door as if it were made of liquid.

Behind the thick glass of the observation window, the professor and director were gesticulating and yelling, but Tim couldn't hear a thing. He gave them a cheery wave and squeezed into the airlock, fighting his way through the forest of white fur toward the inner door.

"Just a moment, buddy," he gasped out when the creature let out a pitiful whine. "Hang in there."

Fumbling around blindly, he finally touched the card to the keypad. The hatch opened, and with a series of chuffs, the creature burst into the observation deck.

Tim followed suit. He was surprised to see that Director Wang had fallen onto his behind, while Professor Fowler stood pale and shock-still, the creature looming over them.

"I think you tricked me," Tim accused.

Director Wang swallowed. "Son, I can explain—"

"What is there to explain? Do you think I'm stupid? You"—he pointed at Professor Fowler—"you knew how cuddly Teddy was but you never let any of us play with him before!"

"I... what?" She exchanged a wide-eyed glance with the director before shaking her head. "Teddy?"

Tim shrugged and came up to the creature to pat its shaggy flank. "I think the name fits."

"Tim," she said weakly, "do you think you could get Subject Zero back into the enclosure?"

He crossed his arms. "Its name is Teddy."

"Very well," she said, swallowing. "Could you please... take Teddy back?"

The director nodded mutely, not letting his fearful gaze of the creature looming above him.

Tim's brow furrowed. Teddy turned its shaggy head toward him as if to tell him something. "I don't think it wants to," he said, nodding. "It's not nice to keep him locked up in there."

The director drew himself up. "Now listen here, you little—"

Teddy let out a snort and smacked the floor between the director's legs, leaving a huge dent. The man squealed and clambered backward.

"Oops! Teddy is sorry. This place is just too cramped for him." Tim patted the creature's side. "Come on, buddy, let's get out of here."

This time no one tried to stop them.

He took the opportunity to read the restricted papers again- quadrapedal but tauric, with limbs that might function as hands, but unconfirmed since the subject refused to come out of hiding to eat or interact. Prehensile tail, clawed front feet and hooved back feet on the lower body to enable both high-speed land running and climbing ability.

Tommy wondered, thoughtfully, if anyone had tested if the subject liked running or climbing more. He knew HE got bored of the same jungle gym after a week, and nobody had been in to change a single thing in the enclosure in the entire year the subject had been here.

It must be desperately in need of enrichment- he couldn't think why else his professor would prompt him to play with it.

Well, he had various types of engagements in his pouches and pockets, belted around his own tauric waist and saddlebags slung over his first shoulders, so he should be able to find SOMETHING the subject would be interested in!

The click of the intercom drew him from his thoughts as he exited the decontamination chamber.

"Now the results I need are the subject's motor capabilities- how fast, how flexible, etc. Get me whatever results you can, and I'll call it a day."

Odd word choice, Tommy thought. Wouldn't it be 'we' will call it a day?

"Copy, Professor! Can you make sure the indoor running track is clear then?"

Tommy promptly ignored the Professor spluttering and asking what that was for- he was a professor, he'd figure it out! He focused on hauling the side of beef he'd brought in to the designated feeding zone, where he put it on the two hooks that were there to hold it in place and make it easier for the subject to eat, holding it vertically.

Then he pointedly turned away from the beef, and settled in a full loaf position with his torso facing away, though he was watching out of his periphery. Vague equine markers hinted the subject might naturally live in herds; this would mean they would have 'herd guards'. If Tommy could slip into that role, it would be much easier to get the subject to follow him to the track to run. It would also get them psychological data- and make it easier to study the subject, since then having 'herdmates' socialize with it would help calm it immensely after stress.

Now it was a waiting ga-

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Tommy, it must be said, was normally a very calm person. Level-headed, perhaps easily embarrassed when certain subjects were broached, but soft-spoken and prone to reaching for the kindest solution first. If asked, his coworkers would call him shy, a bit of a wallflower, maybe even a pushover.

Docile, in a word.

If any of them stopped to think about what Tommy actually /was/, they would have realized that was the wrong word. They were thinking of him as 'harmless'.

There has never been a Dragon of the Deep Places born HARMLESS.

The sudden intercom shout disrupted his concentration, when he had been deliberately sinking into a different mindset than usual so he would project the correct body language: that of a herd guard, on lookout for any changes in the environment that might signal danger. Predictably, then, the shouting caused an equally predictable reaction, even if the Professor and every other being in this research center would never have thought to predict it of Tommy in particular.

All at once, Tommy was out of his loaf, and all four paws had sunk claws into the dirt of the enclosure knuckle-deep, tail whipping wide to ensure behind him was clear and safe as his humanoid face elongated into a proper snout, needle-teeth in their rows on display as he bellowed out a challenge-warning roar that shook the room up to the rafters. Dust came cascading down onto his sensory frills (placed where mammals had ears), but flicking them cleared it off so he could continue to listen. His pupils had pinned down in the searing light of the enclosure, and with his real vision in play he could see that many things on the observation deck had been shaken to the floor, including the Professor.

His throat vibrated with the back-and-forth low chord of Alert, but other than moving his head to visually sweep the entire enclosure- ceiling, floor, walls, glass windows of the deck- he didn't move.

Behind him, he felt a warmth approach, from the barely-adequate foliage, and he warned them with a frill-flick before turning his head to glance over.

His first thought was the report didn't note anything about the rich, green-black coat of the subject and that was a travesty. They had reddish glints in the keratin of their hooves, and peeking from the prehensile tail- scales to protect when climbing, maybe- as well as positively stunning pupilless eyes that seemed to glow, like molten silver. The face shape- yes, definitely semi-equine. His dragon snout must make him look more familiar than any of the humanoids.

They positioned themselves on his right flank- yes! Right where they would to follow a herd guard in fight or flight! It offered the best position to run past the guard while they engaged an enemy, if it came to that.

"Open the door and clear the way to the running track," Tommy said, with some difficulty over the still-thrumming Alert. They weren't the same vocal chords, but training himself to be heard- and use both systems simultaneously- had been hard. Worth it for moments like these.

"I have persuaded the subject to trust me. As a herd guard. I will take them for a run so we can measure endurance and speed. And maybe throw a ball to see about reflexes. I CANNOT keep talking, sir."

Some shuffling, a few clanks that made him look up sharply and lift his lip in a warning and drop his growl an octave from Alert to CEASE AND DESIST, and then he saw the professor making calls on the radio. He kept mostly still, except for a few shifts of weight to indicate to the subject he was searching for escape routes.

The click of the intercom.

"The way is clear. Can you keep them from panicking during decontamination?"

Tommy simply nodded, and when the door whooshed open, he stepped into it fast, indicating he knew what it was and where it led. He was gratified when the subject trailed him in-step. He mock-snapped at the hissing decontamination gasses- they weren't actually harmful if they got in the mouth, but he didn't look like a good herd guard if he didn't 'spook' a little.

The hallway was empty and the track was open, ad promised. He grinned and he broke out into a full gallop- and laughed out loud, sweet and thrumming, when his new herdmate thundered past him and started to circle near the door, giving high-pitched little jeering taunts.

To a human, the subject's language sounded like pinpipes, whistles, delicate bells made of precious metals and windchimes.

Tommy heard it as a name.

"I am NOT old! It's not my fault you're Quicksilver and I'm a Leadfoot! Once I get in there we'll race for real!!"

Welcome to the Prompt! All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments.

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>* No AI-generated reponses 🤖 >* Stories 100 words+. Poems 30+ but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* [RF] and [SP] for stricter titles >* Be civil in any feedback and follow the rules

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