Scales and Scalpels

"Most especially must I tread with care in matters of life and death. If it is given me to save a life, all thanks. But it may also be within my power to take a life; this awesome responsibility must be faced with great humbleness and awareness of my own frailty.

Above all, I must not play at God." ~from the Hippocratic Oath

~

New Phoenix, the city that rose from the ashes. After the Asteroid of 2035, the world plunged into a decades-long ice age. With most farmland turned tundra, the United States invaded Mexico during the Desperation War. The Mexican forces retaliated and laid siege to Phoenix, but true to its name, it was rebuilt and reborn.

"More like reanimated," Laela scoffed, entering her practice. Beneath the shiny and extravagant facade, the city reeked like a rotting Brachiosaurus carcass.

New Phoenix was a hub of organized crime and trafficking of the drug called amber. The mayor was a puppet of the mob, the police moonlighted as their enforcers, and dinoshifters were seen as untrustworthy as wild predators.

To be fair, some of them were literally predators, Laela included. She couldn't blame them; if your neighbor could turn into a Tyrannosaurus or Deinonychus, you'd probably struggle to trust them, too.

Nobody knew how or why dinoshifters existed, but theory suggested their existence was tied to the Impact. That day, millions worldwide inexplicably transformed into various Mesozoic reptiles. Ironically, the same natural disaster that wiped out the dinosaurs heralded their return.

She was a Dryptosaurus, a small member of the tyrannosaur family, so most feared and distrusted her by default. However, she had spent years building her reputation as a respected surgeon.

There were few medical professionals left, although New Phoenix had more than most settlements. She worked at a small hospital in the slums alongside five other doctors. Together, they treated thousands from hundreds of different species, ordinary humans and dinoshifters.

She entered her office in her human form, drawing looks from some of the men in the waiting area and one of her colleagues, Dr. Copelly.

"Hey, Laela," he said.

"Morning, Ed," she said, "Anything I should know about?"

"Alejandra came in again last night."

"Again? Don't tell me—"

"Tail fracture and two black eyes."

She sighed. Alejandra's husband, Norris, was a notorious and violent alcoholic.

"Is she still here?" she asked.

"Waiting in your office."

She marched over and clenched her fists, seething with cold fury. Her saurian features became more pronounced when angry; her teeth elongated, and her pupils narrowed vertically like a cat's. She didn't hide her anger as she walked in.

Norris cleared his throat and said, "Doctor Timbers, we–"

"Get out!" Laela shouted and scurried out of the room. Alejandra was in her Psittacosaurus form and looked terrible, not just because of her injuries.

"Don't lie to me this time, Mrs. Lerman," she demanded. "Was it him?"

Alejandra hesitated and nodded. Laela took a few deep breaths, calming herself.

"I can't, in good conscience, let you go home with him," she said, "Let me see your tail." It was definitely crooked and bruised.

"I can put it in a cast, but whatever you do, don't shift back to human until it's healed. That fracture would have to go somewhere, and most likely it would migrate up your spine."

Laela grabbed a splint and braced Alejandra's tail from underneath.

"Do you have anywhere else you can go?"

Alejandra thought for a moment before nodding.

"My cousin, Bonita."

"Do you need me to contact her?"

"I can walk."

"No, you won't! I can't let you go alone with the risk of Norris following you. I'll call a friend to escort you to her house."

Alejandra rolled her eyes at Laela, but she seemed to get the idea. Laela made the arrangements, calling in a favor over the radio in her office.

Alejandra needed more than just medical treatment; she needed a reality check. Laela couldn't understand why the woman refused to leave a toxic relationship. Norris was a horrible human being and an even worse husband.

Sometimes Laela's imagination would wander to frightening places. She pictured herself stalking that worthless piece-of-crap, following him into an alleyway, and-

She shivered and shook her head to dispel such thoughts. One reality of sharing her mind with an apex predator was that it had an innate instinct to hunt. The only way to regain control from the dinosaur inside her was to assert her intellectual dominance, so she began reciting the Hippocratic Oath.

"I swear to fulfill to the best of my ability and judgement, this covenant: I will respect the hard-won scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk–"

"Laela!" Doctor Copelly shouted, startling her as he pounded on her door, "Laela!"

"Ed, what is it?"

"Code Blue!"

"SHIT!"

She followed him to the emergency room, where a man lay on a stretcher. He sustained gunshot wounds to his leg and chest, which were actively bleeding.

They wasted no time getting the man into the operating room. Besides them, there was one other surgeon on the day shift, Davin. He was required to remain on call while his colleagues were in surgery.

"I'll let you know if any other emergencies come in!" Davin said as they hurried to the operating room.

"He was shot twice," She stated while she washed her hands, covering her face afterward. "Approximately .32 caliber, based on my estimation."

"He's losing blood fast!" Doctor Copelly said as he applied a tourniquet. However, as she prepared to remove the bullet, she saw the patient's face clearly for the first time. It was Rubeo Gonzalez, an infamous enforcer for the Fifth-Avenue-Fleecers, a gang of amber pushers who swore allegiance to the mob and were openly prejudiced towards dinoshifters.

Ed saw Laela's hesitation and said, "Laela, we don't have time."

"This bastard again," she whispered.

"Laela!"

"He was here a few months ago; do you remember? He said, 'You're not so bad for a Lagarto.' Then a week later, he killed that Pachycephalosaurus and his two kids, and the cops didn't press charges."

Ed stepped back with his arms crossed.

"What are you implying?"

"Gunshot victims have only a 40% chance of survival. Sure, that increases by 15% with immediate medical attention, but that doesn't change the fact that post-impact America is not a safe place."

"You better not be suggesting what I think you are."

"Why not?" she asked, pulling off her mask. "If Gonzales lives, how many people will suffer because of it? The police won't arrest him—not in this city—because they work for the same people he does!"

"This isn't what we signed up for!"

"Why did we become doctors if not to protect people?" Laela challenged. "We don't have to kill him, just... take our time. If he bleeds out from two gunshots, who would be able to tell the difference?"

"But, if you wish to save this repeat offender with a history of targeting our kind, I won't stop you."

Doctor Copelly glanced back and forth between her and Gonzalez, then returned his gaze to her. He clenched his jaw and said, "Damn you, Laela. Fine, but I wasn't in a position to observe."

"It won't be obvious," she replied. "Trust me."

With that, Ed exited the operating room, leaving her alone with the unconscious Gonzalez. She made sure the door was locked and grabbed a fresh scalpel.

She blinked in a moment of predatory hunger and imagined herself in her dinosaur form. Gonzalez's body lay on the tundra, and she pinned it beneath her talons and snapped her jaws forward.

She screamed, and the horrifying image disappeared. She still held the scalpel, and her primal instincts droned like an engine in the back of her mind. She approached the unconscious patient, her head tilted like a bird of prey.

"The patient, Rubeo Gonzalez, was pronounced dead at 10:37 AM. Cause of death: exsanguination from multiple gunshots. A .32 caliber bullet severed his femoral artery. Doctor Laela Timbers was the surgeon operating. Doctor Edward Copelly was not present."

All her life, she had struggled against her prehistoric instincts. Maintaining control over a predator that always yearned to hunt was a constant fight. Now, for the first time: silence. She stepped back from Gonzalez and unlocked the door.

"Davin! Ed!"

Walking home that day, the sun was warm for once. Snow might still fall in August, but the omnipresent ice started to thaw.

Gonzalez's death went unnoticed, as Laela expected. Gang shootings were a daily occurrence in New Phoenix, but Ed no longer looked at her the same way. Each time she entered the office, he shot her a dirty look but never mentioned what happened. Her inner dinosaur felt almost satiated for a time, but it didn't last.

Days later, a young boy came to Laela's office with a compound fracture, and the sight of blood drove her prehistoric instincts wild. To her horror, she fantasized about transforming right there and eating the poor boy.

Days later, she had a routine checkup with a young expectant mother. It was warm enough that she opened the windows, and the scent of someone's cooking had her struggling to hold back her dinosaur form. When the young woman saw Laela's sharp teeth and slit pupils, she screamed and ran out of the office.

One bleak morning, Laela woke up in a ditch. Her clothes were gone, except for her shredded sleeves. Confused, she glanced around and was overwhelmed by a wave of nausea from the rancid stench. It was a stray cat, or what was left of it, anyway. Something with huge teeth had torn it open, and that's when Laela realized the strange tang in her mouth was blood.

"No."

With a heart pounding in her chest, she stumbled back from the gruesome carcass, her body trembling in abject terror as the horrifying reality set in. Until that moment, she had only ever transformed into her Dryptosaurus form for self-defense.

Now, here she stood—naked, drenched in blood and mud, a chilling testament to her primal instincts. Panic surged through her veins, propelling her to flee homeward, oblivious to the stunned onlookers who stared in disbelief at the nightmarish scene before them.

"I'm not feral," she chanted like a mantra, "I'm not feral!"

When she arrived home, she locked the door and hid, though she couldn't say what she was hiding from.

"I'm not feral," she repeated over and over, "I'm not turning feral."

Somehow, he found the strength to get dressed and go to work. She didn't think it was a good idea, but she needed some semblance of normalcy. However, she sensed something was wrong down the street from the hospital. She couldn't place it at first, but then it was clear as day: cops.

One officer monitored the door from the roof across the street. Two more emerged from the building, hands on their belts, as if itching to draw their weapons.

It took Laela seconds to deduce why they were at the hospital. A moment later, a car drove up, and a man in a tailored suit got out and spoke to the officers at the entrance. Malcolm "Shotgun" Malena, the crime lord who controlled all the gangs in South Phoenix, including the Fifth Street Fetchers.

That confirmed Laela's suspicions: someone had ratted her out, and Edward was the only one who knew. She slipped into a side alley and hurried back home. It wasn't safe to remain in New Phoenix.

She packed light, taking only the bare essentials she needed to leave town: a few changes of clothes and provisions until she reached the open tundra. She had no plan after that, but she couldn't stay here.

As hostile as the tundra was, survival on the frontier was uncertain; crossing the mob meant certain death. There was a familiar voice as she walked out the door.

"This has to stop, Laela," Edward said. She sighed and turned to face him in the alley.

"What made you change your mind?" she asked.

"The oath we swore to uphold when we became physicians!"

"I saved more lives by taking that scumbag's, people who won't even know they were in danger!"

"I can't let you leave."

"You're complicit in this."

"I've already ensured my cooperation for a lessened sentence."

"So, what are you doing here?" Ed took off his glasses and shirt, which he folded and hung over a fence.

"I know you're turning feral, Laela," he said, "The boy, the pregnant woman, they both mentioned you muttering your breath, and the woman said you tried to eat her!"

"I'm not turning feral!"

"What's that on your face, strawberry jam?!"

Leala's eyes narrowed, and she took off her coat as well.

"I don't want to hurt you, Ed."

"I don't want to hurt you, either, but here we are," he said as they walked in a slow circle.

They transformed at the same time. She suspected he was a dinoshifter but had never known which species he was. She was shocked to discover that he was also a Dryptosaurus.

"If you're not feral, then prove it," he said, "Transform back and come along quietly."

"Out of my way, Ed."

They roared at each other, a threat display to force the other to back down. Neither did, so they dashed towards each other. She was smaller and more agile, while he had several hundred pounds on her.

He lunged at her leg, aiming to hamstring her, but she bounded away with a kick, narrowly evading the strike. Then he stumbled from the impact and charged, headbutting her in the ribs. The force sent her tumbling, landing hard on the concrete.

He leaped onto a steel pipe and pounced. Time slowed as he soared through the air, but she kicked upward, her attack landing true. She hit him square in the chin, stunning him and causing him to stumble to the right. She sprang to her feet and chomped at his neck with a sickening crunch.

When it was all over, a light snow started to fall. Laela dragged Ed's body where it would be found, crossed his hands over his chest, and closed his eyes. A tear stung her eyes, but she brushed it away.

"I'm sorry, Ed." Despite their past friendship, he had tried to kill her. She heard shouting in the distance; she knew her time was running out.

The police and mob were closing in, leaving no moment to grieve. She slung her backpack over her shoulder and plotted the fastest escape route out of town.