Beep.
  Both Mary-Anne and Michael awakened nearly simultaneously as the watch alarm went off. Mary-Anne let out a little meep of shock before she canceled the alarm. A few minutes later, the rest of the tribe was awake. After a last check that all of the equipment they left behind was wrapped in plastic and several layers of Mutopia-laden artist's paper (which Norman knew all too well), and waiting a few minutes more for Mal to cover up the bright plastic of Michael's squirt-gun with camouflage-printed strips from his palmtop, Harlem moved out towards the Scavenger Hunt area. Norman carried most of the balloon ammo in his backpack, but Mary-Anne and Mal carried some also. All four Harlemites tried to ignore the comparatively loud noises of the cameramen that were shadowing them.
  After about 20 minutes of slow and careful travel, Harlem arrived in the hunting grounds. According to the information Mal was able to get, the actual setup wasn't slated to start until midnight. Quickly scouting around, the tribe found one of the largest trees in the middle of the area and made their way up into its lower branches (Michael helping Mary-Anne). Michael was the last one up, and had the most trouble finding a comfortable place, but ended up laying on one of the lower branches about 15' up.
  Being lazy and not at all at home in the dark, the BioSphere workers arrived at 12:10 (a little late) and proceeded on their task of digging holes and putting in goodies. After each item was buried, one of the workers typed in a code on a palmtop of some kind to activate the mutagen. The workers were easy to track, with their large flashlights and muted conversation. However, just to be on the safe side, Michael detached the scope from his rifle, activated its light amplification feature at a low power, and scanned away from the flashlights for other unauthorized intruders.
  It wasn't long until the first unauthorized intruder attempted his entrance.
  With his real-time access to the video feeds, Mal was the first to know, and he whispered the information to Michael. Apparently it was a member of Utopia tribe -- Colby -- who was partially squirrel. His dark colouration made him hard to see, but the light amplification of the cameras (not to mention Mal's digital binoculars) made him obvious. Waiting until there were no workers nearby, Michael slowly lowered himself from the tree with a thud that sounded loud in his feline ears but really wasn't. The others climbed down and followed along behind him to provide aid and support.
  Moving quietly and slowly, they were able to avoid the workers (whose loud mutterings and flashlights made this an easy task), and about half an hour later Michael could just make out the giant squirrel about 80' away. A quick peek through Mal's binoculars confirmed that they had the right squirrel, and Michael went on his way whilst the Utopian waited unwittingly.
  In Michael's dark-adapted eyes, the forest appeared almost as a mythical faeryland. There were no sounds of animals; the SurviFur workers had scared away the native wildlife. Only the workers' odd mutter could be made out, faint and unintelligible, and the flash of their lights in the distance. Otherwise the forest was a sea of blackness interspersed with patches of silver from the moonlight that made its way through the dome roof and the tree cover. Occasionally a rustle of needles, and the scent of pine, could be made out as a light breeze moved the tips of the trees back and forth.
  Checking his scope, Michael watched Colby examine a freshly dug hole at the base of a tree. The Utopian was in darkness, but with his enhanced feline vision, Michael could make him out even without the scope. Creeping forward until he was hidden in the shadows about 50' away, Michael crouched down on his lower chest... took aim... and pulled the trigger.
  The liontaur's weapon made far less noise than a conventional firearm. A tiny 'pop' as a microsecond burst of laser energy created an ionized tunnel in the air to reduce air resistance; a quiet 'chuff' as CO2 was released; a faint hiss as the stream of water passed through that tunnel. That was all -- nothing like the explosive report of a rifle. Another difference was the speed of the projectile; it took the CO2-driven stream of water just over a second to cross 50'. If the target was aware of the incoming fluid, he'd have a chance to move out of the way. Fortunately, Colby was not aware; Michael's first shot was a clean hit. He fired again and the second shot was almost at its target before Colby realized anything was wrong.
  Michael watched, waiting for another clean shot as Colby stared down at the layer of bark that was forming on his legs. Panicking, he turned to flee but stumbled as his legs grew increasingly stiffer. His relative immobility gave Michael another two shots, and then it was too late. Colby stopped moving, and within five minutes the forest had acquired another pine.
  Michael crept back to the rest of the tribe and whispered, "Our opponent is now a small tree." He then led the rest of the tribe back to the site of the ambush. Mal covered his fingertips with duct tape to make sure that his claws didn't ruin anything by poking out, then put on his inert, impermeable silicone gloves to loot the tree.
  By 1:30am Harlem was back in its original tree, monitoring the video feed for new intruders.

  Mal smiled to himself. The three remaining Utopians were in an escalating argument, primarily between Richard (who was still fully human) and Sue (who was about 20% brown jackrabbit), about whether or not they should try to rescue Colby. Finally they decided to look for Colby and try to find out what happened to him. Tina, with her horse's head and neck, remained silent the whole time. Once the dispute was over, Richard led his tribe towards the Scavenger Hunt area.
  Mal signaled the rest, and Harlem got ready to move. Unfortunately, the workers chose that moment to bury something right beneath their tree, a task which took them 20 minutes to finish up. Michael spent the time comforting Mary-Anne -- not only to keep her quiet, but just to be with her. None of the treed cats (or fox) made a sound while waiting. After the workers were done and gone on to the next task, Harlem waited five more minutes, just to be safe. Then they hit the ground and made their way towards where Colby stood. It was only a 10-minute walk, but by the time they arrived, it was too late to set up an ambush -- the rest of Utopia were already there.
  "What the hell happened?" Richard asks, his voice a loud whisper.
  "I told you this was a bad idea," Sue hissed.
  "But as a squirrel, Colby could blend in!"
  Tina interrupted the argument, getting the others' attention with a gentle nicker followed by mostly understandable speech. "Colby didn't fall for a trap -- he was ambushed." She pointed at tracks that could be seen in one of the spots of moonlight. "They look feline."
  Richard was the first to put the pieces together. "It must have been Harlem."
  Unfortunately for Utopia, their hurried conference gave Michael a perfect chance to get into firing position. He put two shots into Tina, the second fired before the first one struck home. Meanwhile, the rest of Harlem waited with water balloons at the ready.
  Tina whispered, "We should leave. This isn't worth it, as there's no sign of a struggle and they outnumber -- neighhhssshhh!"
  Her last word was almost a rustle rather than a voice; the two squirts were already taking effect. Her feet were rooted, and her legs fusing together into a trunk. Even so, Tina still tried to wave to the others to run away as Michael took aim at Richard, and the other Harlemites burst into the opening with balloons. Richard and Sue turned and fled; Sue's jackrabbit speed let her avoid taking any hits, while Richard only took one shot, which turned him green and put some leaves on his head. Sadly, Tina received two balloons, joining Colby as a tree. And, as before, Mal stripped the body.
  Before Harlem returned to their tree, they gave Mal a few minutes to check the video feeds and confirm that the survivors of Utopia had nothing on their minds besides fleeing.
  Peace and quiet returned to the forest as the workers finished their tasks and departed.

  It was 2:15am before the workers were finally finished preparing the hunt. Harlem waited in their tree for another half-hour, just to make sure the coast was clear, before they moved. Curiously, none of the cats found their attention flagging during this period of inactivity... a circumstance which both Mal and Norman found disquieting when they noticed it.
  At 2:45am, thankful that no other tribes were up and around at this hour of the morning, Harlem got out of their tree and went to work. Michael and Norman started to booby-trap the prizes; they made their way across the grounds systematically, digging a shallow hole above each of the buried prizes, inserting a balloon, and re-covering it. They also buried metal utensils as decoys in locations the workers had never touched, making sure to use more balloons to place traps above the decoys. As for prizes that were hidden, not buried, Mal and Mary-Anne took them and re-hid them in the tree they'd been using as a base, leaving two balloons in place of each of those prizes. They'd considered simply stealing the prizes, taking everything back to their camp, but since no one was quite sure how Sly would react to such a gambit, they decided it would suffice to merely move the good stuff to places only Harlem knew. When she wasn't moving prizes around, Mary-Anne set up box-and-stick traps for the squirrels, using acorns as bait. By the time dawn broke, six boxes contained six increasingly-annoyed squirrels looking for victims. Mal continued to keep an eye on the video feed for advance warning, in case anyone else came to bother them.
  Nobody did.
  By 5:40am, Harlem had placed six decoy traps of metal utensils and balloons; buried balloons overtop of five prizes that hadn't been trapped before; relocated 19 non-buried prizes near their central tree; and placed nine more traps under rocks and up near prizes that were hidden in the trees. At that point, somebody else finally decided to interfere in Harlem's game.
  Mal, still monitoring the video feeds, called the tribe together to watch as two members of Queens, Joseph and Bob, made their way into Harlem's campsite. They snuck across and grabbed the largest bundle first, and Joseph was the poor boy who unwrapped it. Mal actually laughed, oblivious to Norman's glare, as the Mutopia-impregnated paper took effect. Within a few moments Joseph ran off, triggering every trap he could find, followed by a worried and confused Bob.
  "Got ya twice," Mal whispered.
  It was an entertaining sight as Joseph ran around mutating; his headlong rush ended when he found a trap which put tiger traits on him. Still intoxicated by the mind-warping effects of the drawing paper, he proceeded to trigger that trap over and over again. By the time he came to his senses, he was half tiger with a good selection of traits from many other creatures and plants.
  With the entertainment over, as a final touch, the piece de resistance (so to speak) to the Scavenger Hunt, Harlem set up piles of acorns in strategic places to attract swarms of squirrels. As Michael said, "After all, one can never have too much mayhem, can one?"

  Dawn broke to brighten the BioSphere; Mal couldn't help but yawn as he took a last look around. Unfortunately, he discovered another disadvantage of feline-dom, namely, bare feet. Distracted, he failed to notice stepping into a spot left over from one of the balloons that Norman dropped and then buried to hide the coloured rubber.
  The earth was still damp.
  The first thing Mal noticed was a peculiar vibrant feeling in his tail. He turned his head and grasped it to look at it, just as a beam of sunlight broke through the trees to clearly delinate it.
  His rat tail was no longer brown, or even rat-like. It was green and, as Mal watched, it sprouted leaves and started to grow. He even saw his fur change from orange-with-black stripes to green-with-black-stripes.
  "Ah, hell."
  Michael heard him and came up beside him. "Is anything... oh. You poor chap."
  "Poor my... This is definitely being taking care of tonight and -- don't you dare laugh!"
  A few feet away, Mary-Anne stifled a giggle. This is almost as good as if I'd planned it! Never one to miss an opportunity, she was immediately beside Mal offering her hand to help, but she barely touched the cool fuzzy vine that was now Mal's tail before he turned and jumped out of her grasp.
  Shit -- she almost had me that time! Mal turned to look at Mary-Anne, who stood beside Michael looking hurt. "Nobody's touching this... this vine but me!" Not the best excuse but...
  "Mary-Anne, he didn't mean it. He's just, well, green with envy you might say. It wasn't anything against you personally."
  Mary-Anne just whispered, "Ok." You got away that time, my big black cat, but all I need is one mistake. Just one. And when you make that mistake, I'll be waiting.
  "Excuse me, sir, but it's almost time for the actual hunt to begin. I've placed the last of the acorns we gathered over some of the lesser prizes, as discussed. We should probably withdraw and get ready for the actual hunt."
  "You're right Norman. Ok, let's go -- I need to get muddied up, and you three need to get ready to start digging. No sense letting the others know we've been here all night."
  And so Harlem left the Scavenger Hunt area and made their way back to their camp. They had to run to make it all the way and get set up -- for Michael himself to get drenched in safe mud from the stream and cover himself with branches and leaves using vines and fishing line provided by Norman, and for the rest of the tribe to get ready and rest a bit. At 7:50 when the squirrel came to lead them to the Scavenger Hunt area, they all made a big deal of waking up. Following the squirrel they arrived at the area by 8:00; Michael snuck off, and a few minutes later was hidden under a bush near the middle waiting for victims. His own camouflage rendered him almost invisible, as he looked more like a bush than a competitor.
  Slowly and leisurely, the rest of Harlem entered the woods as the hunt began!

  Knowing the woods very well by now, albeit unfamiliar with how it looked in the daylight, the three open members of Harlem stripped the good prizes from where they'd hidden them around the central tree and made their cautious way out of the woods and back to camp with the first load of their booty. The only sound they heard was a cry of shock as somebody popped the first balloon with a shovel.
  Michael remained hidden and vigilant, looking for targets, when he saw the two mobile members of Utopia nearby. He took aim at Sue, but thought better of it when he saw that she was near a pile of acorns and one of Mary-Anne's stick-and-box traps. Michael made a near silent run out of the brush -- not as easy as it used to be, as he was essentially a bush himself and the drying mud pulled painfully on his fur! -- and tilted up the box so that the opening faced Sue and the acorns. Suddenly aware of Sue (and the acorns), the highly annoyed squirrel in the box went on the offensive,and his frantic chittering attracted a veritable swarm of his compatriots.
  By the time Michael made his way to another hiding place, Sue was fleeing in terror, a 3-foot-long squirrel. Richard chased after her, eschewing clothes to let his verdant new complexion serve as surprisingly effective camouflage. Michael decided not to fire. Drat. Too difficult a shot, and after Mal's accident, I'd much prefer not to create any more puddles for us to step in. He waited until the sounds of their flight faded away and the squirrels were gone, then he crept out to gather up the items that Sue dropped for late pickup and return to Harlem's camp.
  It turned out (and was confirmed through the video feeds) that Richard did return later, but was unfortunate enough to dig up a buried container marked with the PBS logo. It contained a Barney doll and Richard got its full effect, becoming a life-sized Barney clone. Throughout the rest of the day the words "I love you, you love me..." were often heard echoing through the woods, as Richard/Barney offered his help to the other tribes. Meanwhile, Sue apparently kept to herself.

  Unfortunately, the rest of the day was not quite so successful. Although Harlem got the biggest prize (another certificate of restoration) and fifteen other prizes, Michael's rifle claimed no more victims. The remaining tribesmen had learned caution.
  By noon, silence again reigned in the ravaged woods, as the last of the Survifur participants returned to their camps to lick their wounds or (in Harlem's case, especially) count their goodies.

  By 1:00pm, a tired but successful Harlem were relaxing and counting their booty. The big prize was another certificate for 40% reverse transformation. The rest consisted primarily of various survival tools -- matches, thin rope, preserved rations, even a propane barbecue.
  Norman spoke immediately after the wealth was categorized. "Sir, I would like to go back to Manhattan now. I don't want to stay like this."
  "So you don't believe your feline capabilities will be of any further use?"
  "Doubtful, sir. Like other Survifur games, each challenge is different. It's highly unlikely that we'll be able to take advantage of night vision as we did this time."
  Sighing, Michael turned to Mal. "Have you managed to get anything on the next challenge?"
  "You bet," the tiger said, but he wasn't happy. " I got the entire range of options they're considering for the next challenge; trouble is, they haven't made up their minds yet. Your guess is as good as mine which option they'll go for. On the plus side, I've cracked Utopia's code. Nothing interesting, and it looks like the only tribes with active bugs are the Bronx and what's left of Utopia."
  " I see. And who or what is left of Utopia, please?"
  "A big-ass squirrel throwing a tantrum. Since we planted Colby and Tina, and Dick's gone missing, it's gotta be Sue."
  "How very unfortunate -- for Utopia. Well then, we've got a good six hours to kill before tonight's council. Now, with our original certificate, the new certificate, and the $800 and change we have, we each have 30% free reverse transformation to play with."
  Norman raised his voice. "Sir, I really must ask for all of my proper share. I can think of no pressing need for me to remain like this, and it will help our food supplies and efficiency if I am restored as much as possible."
  Mal nodded. "I'm with Norm. I never wanted a tail in the first place, and the damn thing's grown out another 2 inches since this morning. But I think I'll keep the eyes, ears, nose and claws."
  "Mary-Anne, I already offered you my share of the first certificate; you can take my share of the whole lot, if you need it."
  "Michael, I don't know what to say." You're mine, all mine! Now I can get you to help me get the rest.
  Mal swallowed and then had an idea. There might yet be hope. "Mike, I think you need the reversion more than me or Miss Kitty." Bite, please bite...
  "Why? I'm happy the way I am."
  Bingo! "Forget happy -- the game is what matters. We want to win, right? And part of that's messing with the other tribes' heads, getting them to worry about us and what we're doing, instead of keeping their minds on their own game plan. Everybody's seen you as a lion-thing; if you show up at tribal council looking like your old self, what d' you wanna bet they'll be shitting bricks and fuming about how it should've been their tribe what got the prize? "
  Perhaps... "It won't be that big an effect, surely."
  "Maybe not, but every little distraction helps, and there's another reason. Okay, you've got better senses as a feline, but what's it costing you? You're not as fast as you were, and you're also on a pretty restricted diet. Like Norm said, stealth probably won't make a difference in the next challenge -- which means it has a good chance of requiring speed."
  "I don't know..." That makes sense, so why am I hesitating? I worked for years to become a centaur, I loved being a centaur, so why do I not care anymore? Why am I resisting the notion now? Michael turned and looked helplessly at Mary-Anne but she was glaring at Mal.
  He's mine! "But we need him like this!" Mary-anne said. "In case we get attacked by other tribes -- his claws, stealth..."
  "I'm afraid I must agree with Mal, sir. We will almost certainly need your speed in the future. As to stealth and combat effectiveness, with your rifle you have both regardless."
  Mal knew that his next words were crucial. "Speed, Mike. We need what you've got as a centaur. We want to win -- and if we do win, just keep in mind that you can become anything you want, including what you are now. Nothing here is permanent."
  For a second Mary-Anne's ears pulled against her skull and she started to hiss, but then she fought down her rage. Michael was hesitating; still, he was hers to play with, and it was his free will that she needed for now. It was a fine line... but what better way to make the others overconfident? "Michael, I know you want to stay with me, but, for the good of the tribe I think you should go back too."
  Say what? Mal couldn't believe what he was hearing. No way she's giving up that easy!
  "Then I'll do it. For the tribe, and for you." And why am I so nervous all of a sudden?
  Too late, the pieces fell into place in Mal's mind. Shit! She's feeding him some line so he won't escape! Damn her!
  "I'll stay with you as you change, Michael. I know your heart now, and your appearance doesn't matter." Not as long as I own you, it doesn't! Nice try, black cat-to-be.
  Mal wanted to scream but knew that he couldn't. He couldn't even get Michael alone now; she'd completely outfoxed him, no pun intended. Fine, but why did she give in so easily for the plan to vixenate a tribe? Doesn't make sense, not unless... A chill slowly moved up Mal's spine. She wanted to get into that place. And we left her alone there for hours. Jesus Christ! If she's got the drugs I think she's got, she owned the joint after a couple of minutes alone with the manager...
  Norman seemed completely oblivious. "Then let's get going, sir. We can get there now; return before dark; and have a few hours to rest and get dressed before it's time for council. I recommend you go to one of those artists again, but take one certificate to remove any unwanted things the artist does to you. With Mary-Anne accompanying you, you should be fine."
  Mal wanted to glare at Norman. He can't be that clueless about what's happening... can he? Never mind; I've been outmaneuvered, so it's time to fall back and regroup. He put a very credible smile on his face. "You said it, Norm. Let's get going."

  And thus after hiding and trapping their booty, Harlem made their way to the Med Centers of Manhattan and back. Norman and Mal together absorbed all 40% of the certificate they'd found in the Scavenger Hunt, plus their half of the tribe's money. Norman ended up the way he'd started, and Mal rid himself of his skeletal alterations -- the increasingly long tail, the muzzle, and the stretched-out feet. He would have had the Med Center eliminate his fur and remaining plant-traces, too, except that's where their cash and certificate were both completely used up.
  The other two carried the rest of Harlem's cash and the certificate awarded them at tribal council. Michael's plan to have an artist change him back to his former, centaur, self was less successful than he'd hoped. True, his lion-body was now a horse-body and there were no lion-bits on his human parts, but the artist had also given him the head and ears of a horse. Worse, his hands were replaced by cloven hooves, whose manipulatory capacity wasn't enough to even hold his rifle, let alone pull a trigger...
  Although Michael had initially wanted to smash the artist's face in with his new hooves, Mary-Anne got him calmed down enough to visit a Med Center instead. She let the centaur go ahead of her while she drugged the artist to ensure that he would vixenate himself at Furrtive Moments. At the Med Center she had herself partially restored, but didn't care for the effect. It took the rest of one of the certificates to undo the changes to Michael's face and hands, but he ended up keeping the ears. Afterwards the pair visited Furrtive Moments themselves, where Mary-Anne returned to her full vulpine glory (and, not by any chance whatsoever, made damn sure that today's new vixen lost at least 25 IQ points within an hour).
  They returned to camp and divided up into two groups: Mary Anne and Michael on one side of the fire, the vixen eating another rabbit that she'd caught on the way, and Mal and the silent Norman on the other.