An old story of mine from 1997, Are We Not Men? is an obvious homage to H.G.Wells The Island of Dr. Moreau - with a TG twist, of course. As with Embers, this is submitted in it's original form, warts and all. Please enjoy this Halloween treat.
WayZim.
October 31, 2013
ARE WE NOT MEN?
By Way Zim.
( The journal, written in a fair hand, begins with an entry one year after the
terror of late 1897 to mid 1898. The names of the persons mentioned are
known to have existed in British society at that time, all being of
unquestionable reputation and class in the area of science.
( Though the author of this document makes some outrageous claims, no
other records exist which might corroborate the testimony given within the
immaculately kept leather bound cover. A certain name is given as fact, tho
we only know it in a fictional context. The chief perpetrator of the alleged
crimes against these individuals did live in London but disappeared
mysteriously before the date mentioned in the diary.
( Fair warning is given to take this testimony with a sufficient amount of
salt.)
August 7th, 1900.
I sit in the study waiting. It is a sweltering heat which has settled upon the
city, some say it is the inferno from the heavy vapors of the brace of factories
to the west of our flat. Arthur, my dear brother, rudely remarked that in
actuality it was that all the hot air from Parliament has finally landed after the
bluster over the business with Germany in Africa. Expansionist rhetoric,
indeed.
It was Arthur who had taken me in after my former friends and colleagues
had turned their backs on the three of us, found drifting in that swamped
sloop in the south seas. It must have been the barrister in him which allowed
him to stay final judgment until an exhaustive Q and A session convinced him
I was telling the truth.
But for that, with all the changes and the pain I had undergone, I believe my
life would have been forfeit long before. It has cost me my position with
university, my standing in the scientific community at large. Sometimes in
my slumber, I think of that strange island and think that perhaps Dr Mullen
might have escaped the holocaust after all.
The mad genius might have gone underground, might well be in Switzerland
or France. But the marks that were left on our bodies and our souls can not
be forgiven, ever. I hear Arthur at the door and must greet him with a smile.
Upon that he has been most insistent.
August 8th.
I am so angry at my brother, wringing my small hands like a schoolgirl. I
asked him once again about finding a publisher to print my memoirs. Even if
the lords of the courts did not believe my story, the populace needed to be
made aware. At this point he stood to his full height of five,eleven and
scolded me as if I were a child.
" It is enough that I took you in when no one else would. If you insist on
pursuing this obsession any further, you risk destroying what future remains
for you now. It would also, I might add, damage my reputation at the bar.
Just drop the matter and let things return to normal. "
What was normal? That he would say such a thing to me, as if I were a
naughty child or a wife. I swallowed my rage, so tempted to strike him that it
hurt, and bowed my head in defeat. He saw this and smiled softly. " There's
a good... person. " laughed Arthur and kissed my smooth cheek.
It is shameful to recount that I found myself running to my bedroom. I fell
sobbing upon the satin sheets, faintly scented with lilac. Lilac! an aroma for
old ladies, but Arthur, tho he means well, keeps bringing it into the house.
I do not go out much myself. The tidal wave of humanity, so transparent in
their confused intentions frighten me. Especially the packs of eager males
who now see me in a different light from that which shone down upon my
once broad shoulders only twelve months before.
But inspite of my siblings' condescension, I must write all that I remember,
though the pain brings lovely amnesia to the worst memories. For future Dr
Mullens and future victims of same, I dedicate these pages.
August 9th; Remembrances.
My name was, is, George Stanton, the younger of two male children born to
Albert and Dorothy Stanton of Yorkshire county. With a tousle of light,
almost white, blonde hair and a lean masculine face, I was a standout next to
my elder brother with his dark ruddy complexion and almost Romanesque
honker.
Mother and Father were both instructors at the local school, teaching us that
through knowledge one will be better able to understand and control the
world around him. Both Arthur and I excelled in our studies, though I felt the
pull of the aesthetic in sharp contrast to my brothers more linear mind. He
was always on the lookout for facts to establish truth while I might accept
testimony alone, if it came from an honest source.
We went to University in London, he to study law and I to learn of the
intricacies of physiology, biology and comparative anatomy between different
phylum. I was astonished, in the setting of higher academia, by the vast
region of discovery which was going on during my lifetime!
The prevention of certain disease through the process of Pasteurization, the
discovery of causal links between germ and carrier of deadly illnesses, the
mind of man working to uncover the mysteries of nature. It was one thing to
hear mention of it in text but to actually witness the process at work was
overwhelming.
It was in my second year that I ran into my two chums, Longstad and
Jenkins. We would form a friendship which would last for the next three
years til our mutual trial under fire. The test would finally drive Harold
Longstad insane and lead Raymond Jenkins into a life I'd not have suspected
from the way the stoic acted before.
What can I say about Harold. He was the stereotypical bookworm, at home
among the dusty tomes in the vast campus library. With pale complexion and
too eager smile, the poor lad scared off even the shiest of lasses. But his great
inner strength, devotion to the solidity of research and logistical studies,
saved the collective arses of both Raymond and myself on many an occasion.
I enjoyed books, this is true, but the fairer sex attracted me even more. I
learned the secret of cribbing from Jenkins, God bless him, so was able to
attend to my second passion with the needed ardor. As much as Longstad
was anemic and awkward, Raymond was the opposite. He was a sure hand,
or should I say ' Foot? ' at both rugby and cricket. The two of us were
forever on the green in the numerous matches against other schools and the
faculty instructors.
Of course the girls were there, admiring our moves, tho I confess that many a
time I ended up in the mud. But I found that my efforts off the field did not
come to not. Raymond and I would return to our rooms at dawn with
drunken grins, awakening Harold with our noise. Harold never went with
us. This worried me at times.
In September of 93, while finalizing a paper on Darwinist theories, I heard
reports of a strangeness in the West End slums. Some madman with a scalpel
had been mistreating poor dumb animals in ways that were unbelievable to
contemplate. The neighbors, a surly and unwashed bunch of heathens as you
would ever meet, had long endured the sounds of wailing and a peculiar
stench which overwhelmed even the nasty smell from the piles of refuse
which collected at the curbsides.
Things came to a head when the coppers, finally responding to myriad
protests, encountered a dog running from the hovel where this crazy resided.
The animal had the most brutal torture inflicted upon it, screaming unnaturally
with the skin flayed completely from its body. Muscle and tendon, blood
streaming out of wounds too numerous to mention, exposed for all to see.
My brother was there when they brought the man in. The suspect was
apparently a doctor of sorts, an evolutionary researcher who presented some
twisted ideas on species development to his peers. They laughed at first but
soon became terrified by his strong devotion to the idea that pain provided
motivation for accelerated evolution, perhaps even resocialization in different
animal types.
The man, Dr Monroe, I think that was the name, was discredited within the
Royal academy as well as in similar circles from Antwerp to Paris to the
States. He apparently continued on with his studies until the authorities shut
him down. It was not soon after that certain influential allies covered the bond
for his release and the prisoner immediately fled the country.
The excitement died on campus, tho there were some among the medics who
were intrigued with some of the questions this loony raised. They were not
saying we go about skinning animals while still alive to see if they jump, but
the idea of environment shaping us rather than The Creator placing an
indelible stamp of behavior on us circulated round the pubs and coffee
houses.
But it was something else which awoke an excitement in the three of us,
Harold being the first to receive the great news. Our university had gotten a
grant to put together an expedition of the best and the brightest from the
graduate pool, some ten in number. Evidence of new species of fish, reptiles
and fowl near the Marianas encouraged the academics to seek funding. The
trip, headed by pro Darwinists, professors Nelson and Fenier, would leave
Whitby within a month.
It would take a number of weeks, hopefully beating the soon to arrive
Monsoons which circulated round that region, to get there. In the warm
waters which surrounded the island chain, my chums and I might be in on
some ground breaking discoveries. Find the irrefutable truth behind the
Beagles discovery of generational changes in phylum.
We set sail on a clear day in late April of 97, riding low in the moderately
rough surf with a heavy ballast of equipment and provisions. I was surprised
to find that Harold took the journey with a strong constitution while
Raymond found the swells so fascinating that he needed to examine them up
close. I felt mildly queasy but nothing that a bicarbonate couldn't settle.
The Bark which we had hired was modest in length but well put together.
With the crew and passengers, the compliment of persons totalled only
twenty in number. After the accident, only four would live to find themselves
afloat on a boiling sea. It would be pointless to explain that we were within a
hundred miles of our goal when the violent storm came upon us.
It had been calm one minute and the next, we were hit by waves that rose
well over the starboard side of the vessel. I was washed over port and fell
into the churning waters, the salty fluid filling my mouth as I attempted to
scream for help. Similar shouts were heard on deck only to be blotted out as
rushing waters caught the Bark in a wallow from which she would not
recover.
I struggled weakly as the surge surrounded me, pushing me down into the
brine. It was in the fates that I should die, along with the rest of my mates,
but in a last desperate act my outstretched fingers found a rescuer who
grasped hold and would not let go.
"You okay, George? " sputtered Raymond as he sought to clear the residue of
the seawater from his own throat. " Yes. " my reply was barely audible but
my comrade patted my shoulder as we lay sprawled across the curved upright
bottom of the capsized dingy. To my right was Harold, holding tight to the
spine. He looked so much like a drowned rat, I forgot our dire circumstances
and laughed in ironic amusement.
The first mate was to my left but on the opposite side of the tiny craft as was
Jenkins. " Where is the ship? " I asked after a ragged cough which hurt my
lungs. The sailor pointed downward to the deep green abyss beneath our
float. " Gon ta join Davy Jones. If this storm don let up soon, we might well
join em. "
The sudden squall did pass by in only fifteen minutes. It was as if nothing
had happened with the now calm sea and the gulls calling to one another.
With the help of the mate, a middle aged but grizzled seadog named Conner,
we were able to right the dingy so that we had a serviceable but empty craft.
It was well that we would not drown but with a hot tropical sun beating down
upon us, thirst and starvation would do the job just as well.
It was at this point in my narrative that I find a gap in my testimony. How
long we floated in that great endless sea is not known to me having lost so
much time. Delirium settled upon us til the lot saw visions of great temples
and shapely goddesses in the sparse cloud cover overhead. The deep redness
of our flesh on face and exposed arms signaled to all that death would soon
arrive. As with the storm, reports of my demise were greatly exaggerated.
" Bring em aboard. Easy now. " boomed a voice which I thought was
masculine, but with a strange pitch to it which confused me in my fever.
Hands took hold of my thin arms and raised me out of the dingy. I could
barely see but I thought I saw a narrow face with hard intelligent eyes which
examined me like a specimen about to be dissected.
" Take them below and give them broth! " ordered the peculiar individual. I
spied, through half sealed lids, a smallish hand indicating a hatch on the deck
of this vessel. " I will take care of the examinations! I want this ship
underway in fifteen minutes! We should have arrived at the island two days
ago! Move your lazy arses! "
The sounds of activity, familiar to me after the time spent aboard my own
ship, shown the speed by which this mans orders were being carried out.
That was the last I remembered before awakening in a low bunk below deck
some twelve hours later.
" Hello there. " declared the stranger as I came around to find a closet of a
cabin about me. The planking, the curvature of the wall to my left, all
indicated I was aboard a vessel of somekind. I tried to rise but a terrible
sickness overcame me. A pair of hands went to my back and supported me in
my attempt to sit up.
" Slowly, slowly. You are suffering from exposure and dehydration. If we
had not been onroute back to Mirtan Island.... " at the softness of the words I
focused upon my rescuer and thought I saw a woman's face. The deceptively
smooth face, the length of the lashes on the otherwise severe gaze, the tiny
indent in the upper lips. But then there was a down on that same face which
mirrored the youthful attempt at a beard.
The shoulders were narrow, even beneath the rough seaman's shirt. The dark
trousers gave no notice to gender as baggy as they were. Perhaps there were
breasts, somewhat underdeveloped or maybe they were pectorals gone to
flab. " I am Dr Sam Henderson. I am a biologist working at a research retreat
some thirty miles north by northeast of this position. "
That should have settled the question but it only made me more confused. "
My companions? Are they? " Dr Henderson interrupted my weak voice with a
slight sardonic edge. " They are fine, tho I must admit that you picked the
damnedest time to become shipwrecked. With the rainy season upon us and
being at the end of our supply run.... Well, there is nothing to be done about
it now. Are you up to some soup, Mr... ? "
" Dr Stanton, George Stanton. I might just manage some, thank you. " I
muttered. Sam grinned, though the politeness seemed strained. " Ah, another
scientist. Your colleagues as well, I suspect. Were you on some journey
when your ship went down? " he asked. There was an underlying intensity to
the interrogation which reflected a concern.
" We were going to the Marianas. An expedition to collect specimens. We
wanted to establish the truth to Charles Darwin's proposals on the origins of
the species. " I explained and that answer seemed to please my peer greatly.
He patted my shoulder and the somewhat dainty nature of the hand made me
question the sex of this individual.
But my exhausted state was not conducive to such inquiries and I postponed
any questions til my strength returned. I lay back upon the bunk and waited
to see what fate had in store for us. It was exactly two days later that Dr
Henderson allowed the four of us on deck. With dark clouds massing on the
horizon to the east, we had arrived at the final destination barely in time to
escape the rain.
There was a great stretch of sparkling white beach which ran the length of my
vision. I could give a rough estimate of some five to ten miles either direction
but could not be sure. Though a mix of Palms formed scattered clutches of
forest several yard back from the shoreline, there was a wide patch of cleared
land which extended into the tropical landscape.
" Bloody paradise! Eh? " exclaimed our seaman, forgetting the indignities of
the past as his gaze drank in the scenery. " But where are the huli huli girls? "
he demanded in a burst of risque humor. Sam turned at this and frowned in
the manner of a school matron when a naughty lad delivered sauce. But as he
caught me looking, the scientist smiled ruefully. Not a word was exchanged
but I suspected all was not what it seemed.
The ship sailed through an opening in a reef into a calm lagoon of transparent
blue green waters. Since the slope of the shelf beneath us rose drastically, we
dropped anchor twenty yards from shore. All the supplies would have to be
delivered by a long boat while the crew battened down in anticipation of the
coming storm.
Raymond, Harold, Conner and myself clambered down the rope ladder after
which Sam followed. He directed the men still aboard to lower cargo. It was
only when the waterline was almost level with the side of our smaller craft
that Dr Henderson raised sail. He had a confident hand and the boat caught
the winds just right.
As he was busy with the job of getting us to shore safely, I looked at the
beach to find a group of natives coming out of the treeline. In their midst was
a lone white.
Unlike our savior, this person, from observation of build and face, was
clearly female. She was fair, with a short crop of honey blond hair partially
concealed by a wide mans sun hat. The small form wore male attire with a
short sleeved cotton shirt and baggy trousers. As we came within hailing
distance, I noted a speculative light blue gaze which shown brightly in the
quite feminine heart-shaped face.
" Ho, Sam! " shouted the woman as Harold stared in unabashed adoration. "
Who are the newcomers? Don't you know the rules concerning off
islanders?! " she demanded. Dr Henderson waved a hand. " We had no
choice! They were adrift! Shipwrecked! " the bow of our boat barely touched
the sand before the men, with the look of the Polynesian to them, quickly
drew the craft up on the beach.
Busy hands off loaded the boxes and they formed a line ready to carry the
supplies into the forest. " I think you'll find my hospitality strained.
gentlemen. " declared the obvious mistress of the island. This surprised us
since we assumed that Henderson was boss. " This is a biological station,
isolated and restricted. I am Doctor Francine Mullen, one of only two
scientists in charge of this facility and you are not welcome here. "
Our collective mouths fell open at this open hostility and Raymond made
ready to deliver bluster of his own when an unexpected champion came to
our defense. " Dr Mullen. Three of these men are also scientists, biologists
from London. " interjected Dr Henderson. The anger on that fair angelic face
lightened somewhat, dissolving into shrewd curiosity. " This is true? You
speak first. " she demanded of me.
" It is true. We were to study biologics in the Marianas chain. Our ship went
down and we are the only survivors. " I answered harshly. " We have been
starved, burnt by the sun and perhaps are in no less a generous mood than
you seem to be. If I could work miracles, I would be back in England in a
soft bed. But that is not the case, is it? "
At this strong retort, a lovely smile crossed our hostesses lips. She pointed to
where the darkies had gone. " Go up that path to the main building. You can
wait in the parlor for me and we can decide how best to handle this
unforeseen situation. "
With no other choice but to obey, the four of us trudged up the sandy slope
toward the rough trail. The two doctors followed some distance behind us,
deep in discussion, most likely about the clearly unwanted guests.
" Did you catch the look of that lass? " asked Raymond as we walked. " Quite
a bit of work, that one. All alone on this island with only savages as
companions." he gushed and I chuckled dryly. No sane reason that a white
woman would lay with primitives, no matter what had been writ about the
noble savage. " And what of Dr Henderson? " I countered.
" You've seen our friend there. I'm not sure that he is the sort to lust after
women. " Jenkins responded easily. He was right, of course. That might
have answered my own questions about our supporter. But what was Dr
Mullens story?
As we discussed our present dilemma and the dim prospects of rescue, huge
droplets of moisture began to fall from swollen clouds. Luck was with us as
the path cleared before us and the generous hard wood single story house
came into view.
The place, with thatched roof and bamboo shuttered windows, did not look
like much from the front. But it was shelter and we ran for cover through the
descending torrent of water til the party made the veranda completely
drenched. I noted my manhood stood at attention as the quite lovely form of
Dr Mullen shown through the soaked fabric. I blushed slightly when I saw
that she found me staring.
" I will ask Timora, my maid, to show you to a place where you might
change out of your wet things. The man porters have already brought the
equipment to my lab and left. Henderson and I do not encourage mingling
with the locals, except where a few might help with my work. Speaking of
same, I must leave the task of entertaining to my associate. I have an
experiment brewing at the moment. " this, the longest speech given by our
comely colleague, was delivered in a voice with a touch of annoyance to it.
" Caught ya lookin, did she? " teased Conner with the rough manner of his
kind. As with everything else, class would tell. We were pleased to find a
beautiful little native girl, dressed in the abbreviate silken cloth sarong of her
kind. Just a single bit of native weave between us and the wondrous bounty
beneath. I could see that the sailor was already thinking of sampling this sad
young girls pleasure.
" Why so glum, little one? " asked Raymond in sympathy. " You are such a
lovely girl. " at this declaration tears formed at the edges of those Asian eyes.
" No Loa! No Loa! " she protested.
" Now stop it this minute, Timora! " scolded Sam in a hard disciplinary tone.
" The mistress will have to punish you. Do you want that? " he asked with a
gentler softer voice. The girl shook her head, pitch black mane which fell to
the small of her back waving seductively to and fro. At a gesture, Timora
turned to show us our quarters in the back and I found yet another mystery.
Down the ridge of the spine, the back of the neck, along legs and arms were
tiny white lines.
Now the three of us had done some surgery in our time as well as
evisceration of animals. What I saw were the scars from a doctors blade! I
saw that Jenkins and Conner were too blinded by her sex to see what I did.
But Harold nodded to me that he understood all too well. Our hostess was
not restricting her science to lower forms of life.
Henderson left us in the spacious quarters, a whale oil lamp on a small table
in the middle. The maid had set up a trio of cots for us and indicated a closet
which we found was filled with fresh garments. Light shirts, trousers as well
as socks and pairs of boots suited to jungle wear. Our host had requested our
presence in the dining room after we'd dressed so there was no time to voice
my concerns.
" Dr Mullen will be delayed, so we may eat now. " Sam sat at the head of the
mahogany table. set with the finery of Europe. The food was tropical mix of
fish and fruit with a fine claroit with which to wash it down. All needs were
tended to by Timora and two other equally lovely creatures in similar
undress. As with the head housekeeper, all were unhappy in state and shied
away from complimentary male attentions. As each served us, I looked for
and found the same types of scars.
" What is the work that Dr Mullen and you do here? " asked Longstad, his
thin lips sampling some of the wine. " It's confidential. " answered Sam
offhandedly. " Of course once it reaches a publishable form, I would be glad
to let you take a gander. For that reason I must ask you to keep to the main
house. Francine would be most angry if you would disturb her experiments."
Both Harold and I nodded in concert but Raymond seemed troubled. Conner,
for his obvious lack of breeding, seemed interested in the secrecy but also
held his council. Sam confided that he might approach the doctor about
sharing some of the preliminary results with us but not to become too
hopeful. We ate the rest of the meal in peace noting that our hostess did not
show. Just what was this work?
The three of us retired to a comfortable study where we found a coffee
service, a small bottle of brandy and some fine cigars. I did not smoke but
Raymond helped himself. The pungent scent drifted across from the woven
whicker chair in which he sat. " So, what did you want to tell me? " he
requested with an amused look at the joint concern of Harold and myself.
" Did you see? All the native women who serve our friends had been under
the knife. What kind of mischief are Henderson and Mullen up to? Some kind
of butchery, I would guess. " I told him. " Nonsense. Probably some tribal
disease for which our peers used surgery to cure. I see no harm in attempting
to bring culture and medicine to these poor people. " declared Jenkins.
" But what of the way they acted? They were terrified when you
complimented them on their femininity and the way that Sam treated them. "
countered Longstad. Raymond still did not seem convinced and Harold
nodded toward the direction of the so called lab some distance from the main
house. " One more thing. I saw it as Dr Henderson made ready to leave. He
had his arms and legs covered, but over the collar I saw the same scar that the
women had. "
We did not notice that Conner had gone his own way but in the midst of our
discussions there came a scream of terror from somewhere outside the
building. We ran out into the downpour, looking in vain for our lowly
comrade. I saw Dr Henderson coming from the wood and motioned
frantically to him. " Did you hear that? " I demanded harshly.
" Didn't I tell you to stay inside?! It would seem that your friend, Mr Conner,
ventured on to a bad plot of land! The mud is as bad as quicksand in some
places and it pulled him under before I could get em out! " as evidence, Sam
held out a torn bit of shirt which matched the one worn by our sailor. We
could only stare in disbelief at one another as the scientist stomped through
the muck toward the lab.
There was a confused silence among us, sleep coming only after several
hours of restless turning. When the morn came, the heavy rains making it
almost indistinguishable from the night before, neither Henderson or Mullen
showed up for breakfast. Raymond tried a few times to tease Timora into
giving us information but she seemed even more frightened and could only
shake her head.
This began a week of listlessness for us, pacing back and forth between
meals and the library. I was not surprised to find the bulk of literature
consistent with that of any good scientist. Tomes on surgical techniques,
anatomy texts on both human and animal physiology. But whatever our
reclusive pair was up to was most likely in advance of such rude procedures.
It was on a rare clear day when the noises from the direction of the lab began.
Always low, perhaps muffled by thick walls, it sounded as a woman in pain.
Such suffering could not be tolerated, not with the cursory evidence of the
abominations performed upon the maids. I did not voice my concerns to the
others just yet but ventured down a gentle slope toward the outbuilding. Just
as I was within a few yards of the lab, Sam emerged from inside. He did not
see me and I pressed myself against the building, waiting to see what the man
was up to. He wore a long white coat, spotted with scarlet stains. I must have
caught the doctor at the conclusion of some atrocity, red handed as they say.
But curiosity overcame my initial idea of confrontation and I followed him
into the jungle.
There was a small animal trail which zig zagged for almost a mile into the
thick overgrowth. Sam was oblivious to his surrounding and muttering softly
to himself. I could not catch the words and contented myself with simply
tracking the surgeon to a isolated glade. Kneeling beside a pond filled with
runoff from the slope behind it, Sam began removing his clothes to wash
them in the clear water.
Henderson, for I could no longer refer to the creature before me in the
masculine, was a hermaphrodite of near flawless perfection. Unlike the poor
things encountered in nature, the human male and female portions flowed
seamlessly into one another.
The face was mostly that of a boy on the edge of manhood with a subtle hint
of the feminine about eyes and mouth. The chest, as I had noted earlier, wore
the small immature mounds of a girl child. There was evidence that some
surgery had attempted to flatten the breasts into the budding pectorals of a
male but it was still incomplete.
The limbs, heaven help me! had been shaped as perhaps that famous
sculpture of David might have looked if cast in flesh instead of stone. The
muscle masses moved naturally off the torso and pelvis which seemed
impossible by any medicine I was familiar with. The strange figure doffed the
rest of its garments, vigorously dunking them into the pond. I felt a terror
wash over me when I spied the limp but exaggerated masculine genitalia
resting between the strong manly thighs of Dr Henderson!
My exhalation was slight, my trembling made no perceptible sound, but the
monstrous thing paused in its cleanup to stare intently toward the point where
I lay in concealment. I was forced into a motionless pose while the bizarre
creature narrowed its study of the foliage. For what seemed an eternity I
waited until at last Henderson returned to its task. Given the opportunity I
slipped away from that beautiful horror eager to share what I had seen with
my fellows.
To their credit, both Jenkins and Longstad did not actually disbelieve me.
That the man was a female in disguise might well be true. But the notion that
a process which would so neatly create the being which I described was too
incredible to consider. We sat on the veranda in the fiery glow of the tropical
sunset and I was hard pressed to find a suitable argument which might
irrefutably prove the truth of my statement.
But as I searched my thoughts they were interrupted by the presence of
Timora who motioned us to dinner. As my companions and I entered the
dining room we discovered that Dr Mullen had decided to grace us with her
company. Our hostess had dressed in accordance to her gender for the
occasion.
Even with the diminutive length of her hair, the woman had managed to affect
a curl of the shorn locks which complimented the blush on her finely lined
cheeks. A scarlet choker with a golden trim of shimmering floral patterns
went round the slender neck. Raymond smiled slightly as we appreciated the
deep red dress with soft corset which pressed the small but firm breasts
forward. The ruffled cut allowed a fair vision even as the ankle length hem of
the gown teased with a hint of stockings.
" I do apologize, gentlemen. " she explained in a light melodic tone which in
hindsight was carefully calculated to enchant us. " For what, dear lady? "
ventured Jenkins, ever smooth in his mild dismissal of her remarks.
" You had suffered terribly and I treated you with such distain. But it's past
time to make amends for such horrid behavior. I wish to do so by explaining,
and for men of science this would be easily accomplished, the nature of my
research on this isolated retreat. " As I listened to her words, my eyes could
not help but fall none too casually to the gently heaving bosom. I suddenly
thought of the vision at the pond and shuddered.
" Of my early life, I need say little. I was born in a small village near
Hamburg, Germany. My fascination with the wonders of the natural world
began as a childs eyes observed a glistening shell on a outstretched branch
breaking open and the damp form of a moth emerging from within.
" My mama was beside me and she declared upon the miracle of it all. That a
plain caterpillar should close itself off from the world soon to become a thing
of beauty. But there was something in my mind which asked the question. '
Might not the moth, if it wishes, return to the cocoon and change back to its
first form? '
" She laughed at this but I was insistant that it was not fair that the creature
could not do as it wanted, going from one shape to another. ' It would be like
saying that I might become a man so that I might rule the world. ' declared
mama and this further confused me.
" We moved from the continent, first to Paris and then to London where my
father took up a post with the German Consulate. It was here where I began
in earnest my search for that question asked so many years before. I was met
with false encouragement by some, frightened when my own grasp of
visceral matter surpassed the baser male mind. Others were more open in
thier scorn, offering a place between thier bedsheets if I gave up this
nonsense.
" The question changed in nature, confronted as I was with the dim prospect
of rising no further then Nurse in the eyes of my peers. ' Does the form
dictate the life path of an organism or might it alter a restrictive physical state
to push the boundries of socialized limits? ' I looked to the lower forms of
life, utilizing my under appreciated but ever increasing skill with the scalpel.
" I had some success with rodents and felines. Through experiments in which
the carcasses of the failures filled the sewers beneath my makeshift lab, it was
revealed that gross manipulation of flesh forced set behaviors to fall apart,
susceptible to the will of the surgeon. The rats began to exhibit catlike
behavior while the mousechasers did the opposite.
" In the spring of 93, I discovered that a brilliant vivisectionist from Vienna
had been working along similar lines. His name was Dr Moreau. He asked
the question. ' Do behaviors in man come from God or from the brutal forces
of the new science of evolutionary change? ' As with any radical ideas, it was
met with disbelief and later with threats of immorality.
" Though I detested the notion that I might have lusted after his kindred mind
I now think it was so. He was amused at my crude notions and of my
rejection that we had anything to learn from test subjects which could not aide
by self analysis of retarded or altered states of being. But the towering giant
of an intellect was not too aloof that he did not steal some of my conclusions
and flee with them to places unknown. "
The name was now illuminated in my mind. The flayed dog, the torn remains
found in a West End hovel, was now identified with a purpose. I did not see
the association of pain with process. Perhaps it was a stubborn resistance of
the last vestiges of a Victorian mind. It could have also had to do with the
cool clinical tones which transformed this beautious lady into something else.
" Drink your wine, sirs. It will help you to disgest both food and the concepts
I have handed you. " she suggested lightly. Raymond downed the contents of
his glass in a single gulp while Harold and I drank slower. " So you caame to
this place? " my words slurred somewhat as a drowsiness began to fall over
me.
" I attempted to continue my own research, abandoning animals to look at
human studies. I knew that it could not be attempted openly nor in the same
manner as with the less evolved creatures. It was in Camden town that I
found a young lady, laying in the gutter, but in her sullen eyes was a brilliant
light almost destroyed by social mores and class restrictions. It was with
some money left in trust for me after my parents died that I prepared for the
next stage... "
Her words faded into a fuzzy murmur as my world turned to blackness. I
heard the sounds of distant thuds and my last thoughts were that my
comrades were likewise drugged. The feeling, as an increasing tingle,
returned to my limbs after an indeterminate amount of time. The enclosure,
with a harsh scent of carbolic acid, was meticulously kept. Though I lay on a
wooden table with leather straps to confine my movements, my head turned
easily, side to side, and I found my colleagues beside me.
They were likewise held captive to our ladies whim. The windowless walls
held shelves with bottles of various solutions, a smaller stand to my right
supported a tray with various instruments all too familiar to me. As I gazed
down between my feet I saw a bamboo cage which seemed to have a blood
drenched human inside. It was weeping with that same voice I'd heard some
time before.
" Lard, deliver me from this evil. " the thing cried with a range which seemed
halfway between male and female in range. It raised its head, raked with two
finely stitched vertical scars which ran behind the cheek bone, and to my
horror I discovered Conner staring back at me! Even through the red stain I
could see what that woman had done.
Conner was not the man he was, his heavy jawline crushed into a narrow
mold. The skin, possibly what the acid had been used for, seemed smoother
with nary a hair upon that resculpted face. In its nakedness the thing was
already vaguely womanish with mounds of fatty tissue carved from waist and
stomach to be rudely sewn onto chest and thighs.
" We work with such material as we are given. " sighed a dry feminine voice.
Dr Mullen stood just out of my vision " As you did with Sam? Or is it
Samantha? " I countered bitterly.
" As a woman, she was only good for satisfying the carnal lusts of men for a
few pennies. I found within that delicate form a mind which could readily
grasp the wonders that I offered it and willing to endure the agonies of the
knife.
" I grant you that he is an unfinished work but we learn as we go. If you
noticed the way I have prepared Mr Conner for his eventual role as
housematron to my native servants, the skull has been broken ever so gently.
The limbs were slightly more difficult since in order to preserve the integrity
of the skin, I was forced to use the smallest of incisions to the back of same.
Of course, as with my rats, I have been able to coax the shattered pieces to
reform into whatever shape I require. " she explained in clinical terms.
" But what of us? " asked Harold as he stared at the surgeon with open horror
in his eyes. Dr Mullen smiled sweetly. " I had thought that one of you might
wish to become my helpmate in pursuing the final glorious truths of rats and
men. But Stanton is perhaps too independent, too linear in his thinking.
Jenkins too carnal in his appetites "
" Linear. " I retorted, thinking how amused Arthur would have been to heard
her remarks. Raymond was still too shaken by his captivity and our uncertain
fate to make comments but Longstad spoke in a slow measured voice directed
at our captor. " I will help you. " he said. Both Jenkins and I shouted angrily
but Dr Mullen nodded in agreement.
" You are unsure enough about your own strengths that I can hold you in
check without much effort. But all the same, Sam will be your watchdog. It
would be far too easy to turn you into the most timid of women while your
friends will present a greater challenge. Let us proceed then. " she
commanded my former comrade in arms. All that was left to Raymond and I
was pain.
The mad woman did me no service by continuing her butchery of our sailors
poor body. For her part, Dr Mullen gained some small amusement as she
brought Conner out of his cage, Sam and Harold holding up the reduced
frame with great ease. As he was moved, our seaman shrieked in
unspeakable agonies. The subject secured to the board vacated by Longstad
was gently bathed in an alcohol solution to clean the numerous wounds while
Francine sterilized her tools with a diluted acid formula.
" It is no small task to alter the muscle masses, Dr Longstad. " mocked the
vivisectionist as she lectured Harold with great distain in her tones. The
hemaphrodite assistant stood by both to aid the doctor and keep our friend in
check. " Gross amputation severely damages even elementary function which
is contrary to my goals. It is a mans technique. "
" I.... I noticed you divided them into a great number of sections. Is this part
of your own refinement? " asked the man meekly. Francine seemed pleased
by his question. " If you have seen how such injury to limbs actually
reshapes the damaged extremities. In war or by accident, it can stretch tendon
and ligaments or shrink them radically. I gain control of the process by only
changing such parts as will affect the final design I wish. "
With a deft stroke of the blade, Mullen opened a slit along the patients left
calf. He screamed in terrible agony and I finally found myself succumbing to
the bliss of unconsciousness. For how long I remained in that state would
only be revealed by Harold much later. But it was such a span that Conner
had been altered so to fully reveal the woman he, she would be after healing.
" You have returned to us, eh? " chided Sam, a damp cloth wet with the
overpowering scent of alcohol. " I hoped you enjoyed the view when you
spied on me at the pond. " it remarked with a womans coyness. I noted that
Conner was back in the cage, a rough muslin dress over the battered and
expertly scarred form. It is not much comfort to recall that I found the final
form to be the ugliest of females.
" Pain is the teacher. To simply break the body, to roughly mold the flesh,
not enough to change the essence within. Francine is certain that she will be
find this to be true. As you become the very image of femininity in body, the
sensibilities you associate with same must emerge. " taught Sam almost by
rote.
At great peril I glared into that youthful face with anger.
" I see that it worked well with Timora. No Loa? Not a woman.? How does
your great goddess explain this flaw in her theories? ' I spat out, my voice
raspy from dehydration. " Our sweet native child and her people are simple
creatures. They were not born with the inbreed intellect of the European
mind. But with our more complex map of socialized behaviors, your brain
should acclimate itself to the designs of the flesh. " countered Henderson.
I happened to glance at the imprisoned form and saw a fine mixture of
confusion and madness in those sad eyes. As much a dullard as Conner had
been, I had yet to see the gentler nature that I had thought was woman. This
would be the last rational thought I would have til our liberation.
What I do remember, during the brief periods of healing after several
operations, was associations of phrases and images. They were fragments
which barely registered except on the edge of memory. Dolly, Flower and
Tea service, intoned repetitively in the loving voice of Francine. Dress,
Princess, House, all had some relationship I could not consciously fathom.
Pictures of intimates, Corset, Bustle, Stockings and Garters, were as lovely
sensual dreams.
Between these sessions and after a touch of the knife to my tender flesh I
could hear women screaming. It would become clear as Harold helped me to
recall what I had lost that one of the voices was mine. Only after an
indeterminate time did I awaken beneath bedcovers, strangely arousing to my
sensative skin.
I was terribly sore from head to foot, still unsure of what or who I was. It
took a great effort to rise out of that bed, wooden slates on a window shining
fragmented beams of sunlight into the room. As I pulled down the covers I let
loose a shout, a noise which I somehow knew was the result of Francines
diabolic surgery. A door to my left opened a few seconds later, Sam entering
with a womans long dressing gown over his arm and a glass of cloudy liquid
in his right hand.
" You poor dear. " he, though I confess as to confusion to my sudden use of
the masculine address, held the drink out to me. " Don't worry my sweet. It's
only a mild opiate to calm you and ease the pain. Once you've drunk it, let us
go into the other room and greet your friend. There's a good girl, now. "
For whatever reason, I took the draught and downed it in a single swallow.
My body, despite the ache which invaded its entire frame, felt lighter and
freer somehow. I rose up to accompany my escort, still puzzled over the
corset, bloomers and tight stockings which adorned my still numb figure. But
when I limped into the adjoining bedroom I spied a full length mirror and let
another womanly cry escape my full pouting lips!
For such a change to have occured! It could only have been many weeks, if
not months, in and out of consciousness. I was not the tallest of men at five
foot four but the image in the glass was perhaps three inches shorter. My
once lean face, with the tell tale white lines hidden by a honey blonde mane
which tumbled in curls to the base of my neck, was gone to be replaced by
gently rounded cheeks and a petite nose.
What sins had I been guilty of that my head was the most angelic of
womankind with fluttering lashes and rose painted kissable lips? My soft
gaze followed the acid smoothed lines of my reshaped jaw to the slender
neck, A quite feminine gasp escaped with the sight of modest breasts pushed
almost out of my confining undergarment. My terror mounted with the
knowledge that the mad womans scalpel was been exact in both breasts and
hips, both complimented by the wasplike waist.
If as a male I had seen this goddess, but there was no salute to be had. A
slight sensation of wetness between the full thighs brought the realization that
she had robbed me completely of any remaining vestiges of manhood! My
disgust and trembling was interrupted by the sound of weeping. It was then
that I noticed a young girl stretched out upon a narrow bed in the right corner.
Enough of Raymond remained about the eyes and mouth though the rest was
womanhood in abundance. Where I was modest in measure, Jenkins was
exaggeration.
The bosoms clad in similar garments to mine were more pronounced as were
the sharply defined pelvis. I wondered where the raw material, in strange
scientific detachment, had been gotten from. Sam noted my curiousity and
chuckled softly.
" Just a bit of paraffin inserted to round out our young strumpets bounty. As
much as your friend expresses her appreciation for womankind, Francine
decided to grant his hearts desires. Of course the flesh is still tender, the
wounds more fresh. With the skill of her profession, my lady was able to
complete the work for both of you within five weeks."
Only a month! That she could accomplish so much in so short a time. Poor
Raymond, still in great pain even as she existed in an opiate induced fog.
Once more I became confused by the unconscious correction to address. We
were both men at heart, I knew this to be true. I found Sam admiring my
exposed body with a mans lust and in return I felt a blush rush to my cheeks.
" If you will follow me now, we'll let Rowen get her rest. Dr Mullen is most
anxious to interview you, my sweet woman. " the condension in his voice
reflected the imagined power that this walking abomination believed he had
over me now. But it was not as terrible as my entrance into the parlor and the
expression on Harolds face as he greeted me.
" Georgina. " he exclaimed with a smile, the ardor behind those eyes amused
and frightened me. " What nonsense are you spouting, Harold? " I
admonished in that damned melodic voice. " It's George. Nothing that witch
can do will change that. "
" Perhaps so. " interjected Francine, seated nearby. " It is quite confusing to
you right now. But the flesh should instruct you if you allow it. Please sit. "
at once I found the offered seat pulled back by Longstad and I found a tiny
rush of gratitude rising within. I fought it back and sat, naturally moving my
body into a womans posture with hands clasped upon my lap.
" Well done. I had hopes that you and Rowen might better adjust than Conner
to the new standards impressed upon you. " she cheered as a mother might at
her childs first steps. As I observed Longstad by her side I suddenly noted a
fear behind my former friends lust. He was attracted to my comely form but
seemed horrified and embaressed at the sensation. Harold explained.
" Perhaps the limits of his intellect found the transformation too much to bear.
She is quite unhinged, sullen and uncooperative in demeanor. " he told me
and I once again came to believe that a terrible flaw was evident in Francines
hypothesis. " He was too blunt in his thinking to understand. But error is
often the gateway to final success. " laughed my hostess.
Timora offered tea and I found myself holding the cup as proper to young
ladies. Hastily I ammended the action to conform to my likes. " I do as I like.
" I countered haughtily. " Oh, you are such a spoiled child. But you will find
that the world will not accept you as the man you were. But the lesson will be
one in delight now that the discipline of pain is past. " lectured the scientist
cheerfully.
I could devote scores of pages to the weeks in which Rowe... in which
Raymond and I were tricked into unconscious acts of feminine play. But it
was a period of time devoted to repetition which my persistant male ego
rebelled against. It was my unfortunate companion, deeply shamed by her
wanton shape, who grasped eagerly at the attentions of our teachers. She
giggled with girlish pleasure at compliments from both Sam and Harold. But
at night, when we lay to sleep I found that lovely girl cried in self hate of the
genteel role she'd been forced into.
Longstad, for his unforgivable complicity in this nightmare, could not well
contain his own shame at allowing the vivisectionist to practice her art upon
his best friends. This was compounded by my suspicions that perhaps he had
overcome his reluctant chastity to take advantage of Raymonds weakness of
ego. But it was by his hand that liberation became possible so a note of
gratitude must be noted here.
It was the approaching storm, perhaps some two months after our
tranformation, that woke Raymond and I suddenly from uneasy repose. We
started at the sound of a key turning in the door lock and feared some fresh
mischief from our tormentors. But it was only Harold, a satchel case in hand.
He had a look of determination on his now gaunt face and motioned for us to
get dressed.
We were offered some of Sams things which the two of us eagerly donned
overtop of the womens underclothes. " I have done evil to both of you, my
friends. " he explained in low tones. I struggled with the fastenings on my
boots as Harold helped Raymond with hers. " It was perhaps the lust I had
for Francine that I became accomplice. Perhaps it was fear of what might
happen to me if I refused. But whatever reasons, I have done something
worse so that we might have a diversion to mask our escape. "
At his urgings we exited the room in great haste as the meaning behind his
cryptic statement was revealed to my ears. There was a terrible noise of
breaking furniture and womanly screams. As we sought to slip past the open
area of the parlor, the three of us spied a female in a rough dress shattering
wood and glass in a frantic manic display of rage. The mad creature, formerly
our seaman, had been released from prison by Harold who knew that she
would seek to strike back at the people who had mutilated her.
All at once another door slammed opened and Sam stood in stunned surprise
at the freed lunatic. Distracted by the movement, Conner spied him there and
let loose a great cry of anger and madness. With bony fingers extended like
talons, the madwoman flew at Henderson who was unable to counter the
unexpected attack.
Even as a man, the assistant was overwhelmed by the terrible strength of
Conners insanity and he fell heavily against a table. In thier struggle a lamp
was overturned and the pair was caught in a sudden blaze which turned the
unnatural couple into human torches. Harold firmly grasped the arms of both
Raymond and I pulling us toward the front door.
A line of burning oil safely separated us from the horror on the other side of
the room and we easily reached our goal without interference. But while
Longstad was throwing open the doors, I saw the fire rushing up walls and
hungrily gnawing at the curtains and furniture. There in the open portal
across that fiery barrier was Dr Mullen!
" You did this! " she screamed barely heard over the deafening roar of the
inferno. That was the last word before the burnt supports gave a loud crack
as the roof began to collapse. My savior, my friend, pulled us to safety as the
structure fell. There was a great leap of flames into the heavily clouded skies
while the three of us ran down that jungle trail toward the hoped salvation of
the lagoon and the waiting sloop.
It was our own ineptitude at seamanship which nearly killed us. On behalf of
Raymond, as I fight to keep that name in my thoughts, and I, it would have
been Gods mercy if we had gone down in the blow which rose against us as
we cleared the harbor mouth. Weakened by our ordeal, almost broken
beneath the scalpel, only Harold was fit to struggle with the torn sail and
snarled lines.
I find a small irony in the notion that a storm such as this which brought us
into peril would now draw us away from the raging forest fire which swept
away all proof of our ordeal. Somehow we were able to navigate the swells
even as the water rushed over the sides. Harold keep the bow into the wind
but that was enough to prevent the sloop from capsizing.
We were found some forty miles from Mirtan Island, adrift with not enough
canvas upon the riggings to use the wind to our advantage. A merchant
vessel, on route from the Indes to Plymouth, who drew aboard the two
women and lone male. The captain, a rough old salt who bore similarities to
our deceased Conner, promised to deliver us back to England.
I would suspect that had Raymond or I not been as Mullen had made us, his
manner might have been less chivalrous. But it was not the burly captain nor
his brutish crew who were cause for alarm. That was reserved for the so
called civilized men of rank, the authorities to whom we told our tale to much
skepticism.
It was in the custody of both navel and government officials that Arthur
found me, though he did not recognize his brother at first beneath the comely
guise. It was the subject of much laughter on the part of my interrogators that
I refused womans clothes and kept my face unadorned of paint. Raymond
was less reluctant in his acceptance of the offered garb. His mind did
remember the man he once was but could not reconcile the past with this form
he now wore.
I can not say what finally unhinged Harold, shattering his spirit under the
heavy yoke of guilt at his betrayal of friends and too late initiative in saving
us from further torment. His fall came under the frantic declarations as to the
truth behind Raymonds and my testimony, the logic of his words falling into
rants which strengthened the negative opinions of officers and doctors.
What I said to Arthur which finally convinced him of my true identity can not
be repeated in full. It did concern a moment in his youth which involved a girl
he adored and the manner in which he released his passions with myself as
unseen witness. This joined with the cursory examination by the six
physicians who came up with several questions they could not answer.
First was the fact that both Raymond and I showed evidence of extensive
scarring where I indicated earlier in this document. Upon further exploration,
which I submitted to with great suspicion that the males found too much
interest in poking the faux female anatomy, they also found evidence of
trauma to our skeletal structure. The ungainly knit was found only with
deliberate investigation of legs and arms.
It was proof enough for my brother but not for the authorities who became
uneasy when I demanded a new expedition set out at once for Mirtan to find
the incontrovertible final evidence of our capture and transformation. Only the
presence of a prominant lawyer in the room stopped the cynics from uttering
cruel comments on the imaginings of women. It took much coaxing on
Arthurs' part before they agreed that perhaps the request might be honored if
a ship could be found already in transit for that region.
My brother, Raymond and I, were given leave to return to London as long as
he vouched for our whereabouts. In preparation for the short journey home,
my confused friend exchanged the uniform of our ordeal for fresh female
grab. It would have taken one who had been with us to tell this bountiful
buxom woman had ever been anything but what she appeared. To Arthurs
displeasure, I remained in shirt, vest and coat, as well as loose trousers. I did
concede to the corset and bloomers beneath to restrain my breasts from vulgar
motion.
Raymond did stay with my brother and I in our tiny two bedroom flat for a
short time. He, Arthur, recieved word from the Government House some
time later that our asked for expedition had found Mirtan Island completely
deserted. That fire begun by Conners mad rampage had destroyed everything
and forced the evacuation of the native population to an undisclosed location.
No papers, no instruments, no odd cadavers in the ruins.
My own fate was sealed when Arthur, in an attempt to help me reconcile
myself to my situation, began to insist that I cease the eccentric embracing of
the masculine. " I might well believe your story, Georgin... George, but
others are less inclined to. If you keep on, you will demolish any hope that
the truth will be told. " declared my older sibling.
" But you believe me. Please say that you do. " I demanded softly. That the
government and my peers would not mattered little if my only contact with
my past denied me. The struggle of his words made my forced feminine
thoughts produce salty streaks upon the freshly painted cheeks.
" I.... I do believe that you believe. It is enough for me. " he finally blurted
out. It was not long after that I embraced the external role that Dr Mullen had
given me. Arthur, almost in relief, stretched his resources to provide the
wardrobe and accessories for this shapely guise. But beneath the bodice and
crinolin fabric, George Stanton remained untouched.
Raymond did not share my determination, gone as he... she was to
embracing her womanhood in such a wanton manner that Arthur ejected her
from the flat. I do confess that my resorting to womanly tears did turn my
brother so that he offered a small allowance for Rowen to obtain suitable
quarters. But only a few weeks after she left us, Rowen was found among
the whores in Camdentown.
I could not find enough confidence to bring her home again, not with Harold
behind Asylum walls. If the fates had decided to destroy us for some
presumption unsuspected, who was I to tempt even worse retribution? But
something inside persisted. Some hidden resource which demanded that I
deny myself any possible happiness so that some reason might be found for
this horror. As that great tome of the sea did declare; ' I alone live to tell the
tale. '
Last Entry In Journal.
( These pages had been found in an antique chest, laying amidst womens
clothes, a small jewelry box as well as some photo plates. The furniture and
contents, belonging to Arthur Stanton, were sold at auction in 1954 at
Sotherbys. The Barrister to the Court Of St James did deny any questions
concerning the disappearance of his scientist brother on that fateful trip to the
Marianas. Of the female companion who shared his quarter, Stanton insisted
that she was simply a distant cousin from his mothers side.
( The truth behind the fiction was that a school of medicine, radical in its
opinion, did exist during the time period mentioned. Vivisectionists, outside
of the conventions pertaining to gross anatomical sciences, believed that
behavior was linked directly with the physical. Pain did not simply produce
elementary response but promoted a completely altered set of behaviors.
( H.G. Wells, working from different factual bases, produced a horrific text
in 1896 entitled ' The Island Of Dr Moreau. ‘ which took the concept to
radical extremes. That such a man really existed or that such radical surgery
as described might bring about the changes implied is grist for much debate.
As with such speculation, let the text speak for itself. )
Way Zim, April 25th 1997
Comments
I remember this one.
Still good on a second reading, by the way.
Maggie
Fascinating
A most fascinating and somewhat dark tale.
Joanna
Good story
I have read this story before but must confirm that I really enjoyed it reading it again.It is a very good written story and rather unique in content and structure.