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Pride
 
by J.(Channing)Wells

 

...and the sun beats down upon the dry grass of the savanna. Flies. Damnable flies, everywhere. Drawn, I suppose, to my blood. Their little insect minds, incapable of any rational thought, nonetheless move still at the whim and compulsion of nature. Somewhere, just out of sight, the scavengers chat amiably amongst themselves, waiting with patient and idle curiosity and undeniable carnivorous intent... waiting to see if any opportunities will today present themselves. All about me, the lionesses watch. His lionesses. Him. The Ancient One stands not far off, his muzzle laced delicately with the red tracings of my blood... he licks his mighty jaws, lazily, catlike, reveling in his victory. I am no longer a threat, he surmises. He thinks that my fight is gone, and so does not even expend the effort to run me off. He will, oh yes. He _plans_ on it. Once he has rested in his glory for a while. Rested. The struggle has expended the Ancient One's energy, but he still stands proud... not revealing the weakness, the lethargy in the old limbs, the dullness of tooth and claw... and yet, he believes that I am beaten. That shall be his downfall. He fixes his ancient yellow gaze upon me...

_and speaks..._

"All right! Let's get started. Before we get to any business whatsoever, I'd like to take a moment to welcome back Louis Vanderwyr... Unfortunately, this will be Louis's last staff meeting here with this office. Louis, you're a good man, and we'll be sorry to lose you."

No. He has not yet driven me away. He keeps me here to gloat over his victory. The lionesses look on, impassively.

"I hope all of you will be able to join us, after we wrap this thing up, for a little farewell get-together at the Athletic Club."

"We'll miss you, Louis..." pipes up one of the lionesses. Lisabeth. She is my friend, has been since we were both cubs together. She is a fine young huntress, swift and agile... and... ah... She...

... makes a damn good cup of coffee. She's pulled me through many a difficult meeting, and she's an absolute wizard at whipping up emergency slide presentations. And there's more. This week, the first one back... since... the, ah... it's... well, it's been a particularly bad one. She's... ah... run home to get a... ah... suit for me... when I've... ah... forgotten to wear... anything to work... hid me... in her office, run home for me, gotten... my... clothes... my glasses, she is... ah... worried about me. I think. I don't know what I'm going to do without her when I go over to Medical Archives. Of course, Lisabeth is going to be staying here with Rural Health Acquisitions, because, hey, it's her steady job... and... ahhh.... she's...

... part of _His_ pride. And I cannot take her from Him except by force. Him.

I will make her my favorite. I challenged the Ancient One for all of them, as we all do... but in my heart, I fought for her favor. Fought and lost, it seems, and now I stand broken in her estimation, a beaten and bloodied young male... she does not see the fire still in my eyes. Perhaps that is just as well, else she might inadvertently betray it to the Ancient One. She will be mine again, as will they all.

The Lionesses.

A proud and noble band of huntresses, foodgetters... mates... bearers of _my_ young... a... ah... a... group of, oh, about twelve or so... with...

... varying levels of experience in Hospital and Health Administration. Most of them are forward-looking career women, married, some with children. Actually, Sarah has just returned from maternity leave, and occasionally she brings the baby in, and, of course, for a few minutes, all office productivity ceases as we all gather around to make fools of ourselves over the... ah... fragile... little infant... the...

... cub, still young, still in weaning, playing about as cubs will. Lisabeth and I were like that once. I imagine, rationally, that even the Ancient One was like that once, but I cannot make myself believe it.

"First issue that we have to discuss here is the redistribution of personnel. Now that the tasks formerly assigned to the RME office have been reorganized as subsidiary duties of Rural Health Acquisitions, I'm assuming that we'll be moving a lot of Louis's old people upstairs... Lisabeth, I believe we've discussed making you a part of Leslie's staff..."

The female known as "Leslie" nods. She is nearly as old and twice as wise as the Ancient One is. She is skilled in the ways of the savanna, knowing the variability of the winds, the shifting of the weathers... her unerring eye can pick out the old and weak, singling them out from the herds... and then, moving in silence and scentlessness through the tall, rustling grasses, she fixes her predatory gaze upon... ah... small...

... independent rural-area medical clinics to add into the Alegent Health Medical Care Conglomerate, offering them the resources of the entire Rural Health division, putting forth for their approval an attractive package of pinch funding, resident training programs and corporate malpractice insurance plans. And, once they have seen the economic benefits of becoming part of the Conglomerate, she

... returns the meat to the Pride, carefully assuring that her... children... she has

... pictures of herself with her family all around her office, scattered about like bric-a-brac, here with her late husband, here with her children... and now, with her grandson... he's about two now... all of them... ah... all get... a...

... proper share of the meat that she brings. She is _His_ favorite. She, too, will be mine, and I will be honored to have a huntress of such wisdom and skill amongst my pride. But Lisabeth will still be my favored one. Soon, now, soon.

"Now, we're going to have a bit of a lack of office space with the annexation of Louis's people, but I've got a little more good news here. I've talked with the Board and brought the matter to their attention... and they've cleared it for us to relocate to the former VP of Health Science's suite..."

Brief approving murmurs from the lionesses...

"...which should give us ample room for everybody in, I might add, better accommodations than we've got now. We're planning on making it a gradual move over the course of the next year or so."

Anger suddenly boils into my stomach. He shall not take them away to more prosperous grounds. He shall not. He will not leave me, disgraced, to spend my days in shame, here amongst the other prideless males of...

OF!

... Of Medical Archives! A bunch of nameless, faceless bureaucrats, their faces washed pale from their long hours in closed basements, colored only by the glare of the endless rows of their terminal screens and

AND!

... Their manes thin and sparse, their ribs protruding from hunger while _HE_, the Ancient One, stands well-fed and victorious amongst his lionesses, his mates, his huntresses, his...

... support staff...

He shall not take them from me.

There is silence in the room. Roger Carvey, Master of Business Administration, director and chief executive officer of the Department of Rural Health Acquisitions, lord of the pride, runs one hand through his graying hair and

stands over me, his muzzle still wet with my blood, his mane torn and ragged from the marks of my claws. He pauses. Prepares to finish the kill...

"Louis. We're sorry to lose you. Goodness knows with the whole 'unidentified illness' bit we were all worried you wouldn't be back at all. But you've obviously recovered quite nicely, and after all that, I'm sorry that you've come back only in time for us to let you g-"

My claws close around his throat. The Ancient One's eyes go wide -- I _have_ caught him off-balance! The lionesses, too, startle - they had obviously not expected me to rise again. My body burns, twists, in impossible ways... the pain is excruciating, unbearable, but when it is finished, I am struck with a sense of rightness... at last, finally, after weeks and weeks, everything is how it should be. The seams of the ridiculous cloth trappings which Lisabeth insisted that I wear strain and snap, and the wire frames that for so long have encumbered my face fall heedlessly to the ground, their pathetic lenses broken and crushed... my claws are at the Ancient One... ripping... tearing... his blood, _His_ blood, this time, soaks into the dry grasslands and

the thick pile carpeting is stained red all about and

still I rend, tear, right and certain-sure in my knowledge that the Ancient One has finally weakened... weakened beyond any ability to fight me... his resistance is pitiful, feeble...

His time has come.

And then, his time has passed.

I roar in my triumph and look about for my conquests... the lionesses... strangely... have fled. Lisabeth...? No. The board room is empty...

No matter. I will gather them again, in due time. At last, the Ancient One has fallen and his dominion is mine own. I bask in the glow of conquest for many minutes, surrounded by sounds, startled sounds, shrieks and cries of the creatures of the savanna. And I rest, secure in my victory...

A sharp pain. Damn these insects!... I turn... and then, there are more of them. Young males. Outsiders. I should have known they would arrive. They see me, weakened by my struggles, and they come while I am still vulnerable... ready to wrest my conquest from me. Let them come, the puny ones. The Ancient One was even more aged and infirm than I had expected, and my struggle with him has not taxed me at all. I bare my teeth. The pride is mine, curse them all, _mine_, and they will... not... take... it...

The potent tranquilizers seep into my brain...

Will... not... take... it...

Blackness floods into my muscles as I try to leap at them... to fight... let the challengers come... they... will... not...

_Uniforms..._

Will... not...

All about me, the flies buzz. Their rough, raw huzzing becomes stronger and stronger... loud, unbearable... drowning out all sound; the frantic commotion, the panicked screams... all noise gives way to the endless, unbearable droning of the flies...

And everything goes dark...


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