By William Mangieri
Copyright 2011 by William Mangieri
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I stroked Kat’s fur and pressed my forehead against the observation window, so the tips of my ears just touched the surface; as though that would bring me closer to Jock.
Our cub had been on the other side of the glass now for three days. I looked at the tubes cutting into his arms. Was there any point putting him through all this? The base doctors were doing their best for him, but the fact was no one had a clue where the damn Morient virus had come from, let alone how to cure it. From the way it normally ran its course, he might have a week left.