She entered the Training Room and eyed the obstacle course, made up of a yellow light projected from the ceiling onto the floor, where various objects lay or hung over the path. She took a deep breath, planning her first move. She started to run, but at each obstacle she paused, determining how best to get past it. At the rope swing she stopped, reached out and grabbed the rope, then swung across. She clambered through the rope net, jumped over each of a series of waist-high hurdles, crawled under a fence and climbed over a wall just beyond. She ran off the end of the path where it came to an abrupt stop and had to back up. Just to the side, a board lay bathed in yellow light. Beyond the board lay four islands of yellow, each about eight feet wide and eight feet apart, before the path resumed as a solid line. At last she reached the finish, back at the starting point. She stopped and looked up at the control room window. Her loose clothing lay in wild disarray on her body.
”Thirteen minutes, forty-one seconds,” Frank said over the speaker.
She frowned and shook her head. “That is too slow. I can do better.” She hesitated. “May I take off my clothes?”
”Uh, I suppose so. Would you like a bodysuit?” Frank asked.
”Non, thank you.” She peeled off her loose blouse and skirt. “Where can I put these?”
”There are cupboards by the door where you went in,” Red suggested, leaning over to talk into Frank’s microphone. She nodded and disappeared through the door.
She returned in a moment. She rubbed her hands down her bare thighs and took a deep breath. This time she ran better, skipping over the breaks in the line and weaving through the obstacles a little more smoothly. She sprinted for the hanging rope when she reached it, jumped and grabbed it, swinging across the gap and dropping off on the other side in a single maneuver. She ran towards the hurdles and dove over them in a series of gymnastic forward handsprings.
”She is so beautiful,” Red breathed. Tracker’s tail waved in long slow sweeps. Frank glanced at Tracker and raised his eyebrows, then scribbled a note on his report pad.
She threw herself sideways, rolled under the fence, then sprang to her feet, jumped, caught the top of the wall and dove over it like water going over a dam. She sprinted along the path, following its twists and turns and running the board like a balance beam until she came to the islands. Here, she dove forward, catching herself on her hands and rolling to her feet, taking one step to the edge and diving for the next one in series. When shhe reached the end of the course, she stood, her chest rising and falling as she breathed deeply and evenly. “How did I do?”
”Much better. Nine minutes, seven seconds,” Frank said.
She nodded. “Bon. Now to try for eight minutes.”
Two hours and several runs later, Tracker and Red rejoined her at the doorway. Sasha passed them on the way in, a door-sized vehicle, her grav sled, following at shoulder height. Antoinette watched the feline curiously. Sasha walked with a light, springy step, too much energy pent up in her agile wiry frame. The sled itself looked about ten inches thick. In the top side of the sled she could see an indentation that seemed a perfect likeness of Sasha’s body and head, as if molded to her from ears to paws.
Frank’s voice came over the intercom as Sasha entered the Training Room. “Okay, Sasha. We are going to try to hit you with anything and everything. You are to evade only. Do you understand?”
”Yess,” Sasha said. “Dodge attackss. No counter attack.”
”Right,” Frank said. “Get ready.” In a lightning spring, Sasha leapt up and landed on top of the sled, lowering her face into the mask. Her fingers and toes curled into glove-like indentations as bands of energy curved up and over, locking her into place across shoulders, hips, thighs and calves. A force field, nearly invisible, enveloped both sled and pilot before it darted out into the middle of the room.
Red handed Antoinette a towel from another cabinet. She took it and began to rub herself down as she watched Sasha through the open door. Antoinette shook her head in wonder as she closed the door and handed the towel back to Red, who tossed it in the laundry chute. Then she walked over to the cupboard where she’d put her clothes and dressed quickly. “Thank you. That was fun. Now I want to eat, I am starving.”
#
After dinner, she sat with them in the lounge and chatted.
”What name will you take in tiger form?” Red asked.
”What do you mean?” she asked.
”Well,” he replied. “You aren’t really Antoinette when you are in tiger form, are you?”
She shook her head doubtfully. “I suppose I am not.”
”So, what’ll we call you in your tiger form?” ? ”I do not know. What would be a good name for the tigresse?” she asked.
”What about ‘Tigresse’?” Red suggested.
She hesitated. “Tracker? What think you?”
”Tigresse is a fitting name for you,” the fox replied. “The French gives it a more feminine sound than the simple English word, ‘Tigress.’”
”And it’s also beautiful, just like you,” Red added.
She hesitated a moment more. “Do you like it, Tracker?”
”Yes, I guess so,” he replied uneasily.
”Then, that is what I will choose. I am Tigresse in my beast-form.”
After a while, she stood and stretched. “I will go take a shower, then go swim.”
After her swim, the two males escorted her back to her room, departing again after wishing her a good night. She sat on the edge of her bed and brushed her hair, letting the repetitive movements relax her as she thought. Everything is so new, so different. My new friends — some are human, like Red or Scott, with the training and equipment to give them their powers. Others, like Marsha, or that young giant, Jerry, are human, with special powers; like myself, with the tigresse. And others, like Shal-ir or Sasha, are not human at all. Tracker is of Shal-ir’s kind, I think, but he acts more like a human than Shal-ir does. Perhaps Tracker was raised here. She smiled. I like him and he likes me, but he is so shy. He is sweet. She laughed softly. Red is not shy; a charming rascal, but kind. I trust him. I trust them both.
Her thoughts jumped to Carl Royden, the FORCE deputy she’d met so long ago. Ah, Carl, if only you could see me now. Once I am trained, I could share in your work. She thought pensively for a moment. Perhaps I will find Carl and see if he wants me, if things do not work out here. But that would mean giving up Tracker and Red and all the others here. Que sera. We will see.
After ten minutes, she put the brush away and turned out the lights.
