Yet another story beginning from me - I know, I have a lot of them.
But I'm hoping to actually finish this one, so feedback of the first half of the beginning chapter would be fantastic.
More snippets are being posted irregularly as well.

If you are that interested in Nat's story to be a beta reader when it's finished, great! Just shoot me a PM, and we can talk about it.



So, as of 10:14pm on 27/7/15, this book is actually finished.
Here are the final numbers.


And since I know this will be getting buried under all the posts.

So, as of 10:14pm on 27/7/15, this book is actually finished. I'm a little bit in shock as I write this, because it's taken up four months of my emotions and spare time, and I honestly don't think I'll ever be able to let go of these characters completely. There is something about them that made me more emotionally invested in Scientific Fantasies than any of my other books.
I just want to thank all you guys who put up with me posting both this thread, and my random streams in chat, and to thank you all for your support. I honestly couldn't have done it without you all. Writing is a lonely job, and I love that I can share mine here, and know that people will enjoy it.

I may continue posting snippets here, I may not. I haven't decided yet. But if anyone wants to know more about it, or wants to read the whole thing, just let me know, and I'll be happy to answer any questions.


Snippet One:
Her crisp footsteps echoed in the hallways, the sound bouncing off the stark white walls and floor. She was alone, her clipboard tucked under one arm, her lab coat flaring out from the wind of her passing.
She pressed her palm to the screen next to the door at the end of the hallway, and it slid open with a hiss of air, shutting tightly behind her.
With sharp hazel eyes, she surveyed the room, making sure that nothing had been disturbed overnight. It was crucial to her research that no one else touched anything. With relief, she saw that everything was as she'd left it the night before, even down to the coffee stain on her desk. She couldn't remember drinking that yesterday.
She set her clipboard down on the desk, and moved a stack of papers to another spot on the desk, revealing yet another coffee stain. She sighed. She relay needed to get more rest.
A banging reminded her of the reason why she wasn't. She turned, the keys in her pocket the only other sound in the room, and leaned against her desk, watching the cause of the banging.
The enclosure was made completely out of glass, except the base. That was made of solid concrete, ensuring that the specimen couldn't escape as well as allowing her to examine it from any angle at any time.
It was feeding time, apparently. She took in the sharp black eyes, the hungry look in them, as he specimen flared its olive green wings, and sighed again.
She wasn't sure what was on the menu for it today. Without looking at it again, she moved to the other end of her lab, consulting her charts, and recording the changes that her machines had picked up. Everything seemed to be going as leaned. Finally, she found the feeding schedule, and slid the food into the enclosure. Sitting back in her seat, she watched it eat, taking note of her observations.
The specimen is still strong, she wrote. It still eats as normal, and appears to be building strength.
Again, she glanced up at her experiment, and just watched it, her pen resting against her teeth in thought. But there was nothing else to record for the moment, so she scrawled the identification of the specimen down, as per protocol.
7a10n.
This one had been a long time in the making, and she was determined to keep it alive. She could still remember the first time she had seen it. It had both awed and fascinated her.

She'd been two years younger then, only twenty, and newly hired as Professor Ingvar's assistant. She scurried along behind him, trying to keep up as well as taking in her surroundings. She'd never been in a place as secret and high tech as this one. The walls were white and shiny, and ...



Snippet Two:
The shouts were getting closer, and he tensed, his head turning as he searched for a way to escape. There were none.
Before she could react, he'd swiped her knife from her belt, and held it to her throat. She froze, unsure what he was doing, or planning.
"What are you doing?" she asked, carefully.
He forced her to her knees, standing behind her with the blade cold against her throat, his other arm tilting her head back. "Just keep quiet."
"This will do nothing."
The blade pressed a little harder, and her breath quickened. She still continued to speak.
"Ingvar's with them. He controls you."
The blade didn't move. "No one controls me," he hissed in her ear. She flinched away from him.
"Then what will this do?"
He laughed coldly as the sounds faded for a moment. "You forget what I am, scientist. I know that place better than you do. No one can get into your room without your say so."
She struggled against his hold, only to feel a trickle of blood run down her neck, and stilled. He wasn't fooling around.
"The roof of the flight room," he muttered in her ear, barely loud enough for her to hear. "Midnight. With her. Or I'll never return."
She stiffened. "I don’t understand," she whispered.
He didn't answer. The shouts had come closer and closer, and suddenly in front of them was Samuel, looking much more than worried. He skidded to a stop at the sight that met his eyes, as did the rest of the search party.
Slowly, trying to appear non-threatening, Samuel held his hands out. "Let her go."
She gasped as the blade dug deeper when Samuel took a step forward, and he stopped dead. No one moved. No one knew what to do now.
"Let me through."
She felt the boy shiver at the familiar Russian voice. "Liar," she breathed, and whimpered when his grip tightened around her neck.
Ingvar's thick Russian accent was something that she had never really thought she'd be glad to hear, but these were strange circumstances. "You wouldn't hurt her."
The boy's grip tightened, and the blade dropped lower, a thin line of blood following it. She flinched, her eyes wide with fear.
Samuel met her eyes, but he was unable to do anything to hep her.
"Let her go."
Ingvar's voice was low, expecting to be obeyed, but he wasn't. The boy moved backwards, dragging her with him. She scrambled to stay upright while trying not to let the blade cut her anymore than it had already.
"Professor!" Samuel was growing more and more anxious.
Ingvar did nothing. He was watching the boy, watching every move he was making.



Snippet Three:
It was dark when he heard to door opening, and he looked up, seeing faint movement. There was enough light for him to know that it wasn’t Natalia.
As the intruder came closer, he knew that he was right. It was Ingvar, and Talon pressed back against the walls of his cage, as far away from the opening as possible. He knew what the professor would do to him.
It didn’t make a difference, though. Ingvar dragged him out of the cage, ignoring his struggles, and gripped his wing joints, twisting them enough to send him to his knees in pain. The scientist took advantage of that to fasten the restraints of his wings, painfully tight. Talon struggled, trying to get free, trying to flare his wings, but the professor just twisted them more, sending pain shooting through him, and he went limp, breathing heavily.
His wrists were chained tightly, and he was jerked to his feet, his wings already throbbing. The professor dragged him through the darkened hallways of the facility to a room that Talon knew far too well. He’d spent nearly twenty years in this room.
He dug his feet into the floor, refusing to go past the door into the room, but it was no use. The professor just jerked on the chain, making him stumble forwards.
He was chained to a pole at one side, and the professor moved away for a few minutes, busy with something at his bench. Talon strained at both the chain and the restraint, hating what would come next.
Ingvar returned, with what looked like a collar in his hands. Talon took one look at it, and fought the chain harder, making the man chuckle darkly.
“Ah, you remember?”
Talon made no answer, but he was unable to prevent the collar form being fastened around his throat. Stepping back, Ingvar pulled a small remote from his pocket. Seeing it, Talon froze, barely breathing, not taking his eyes off it. Again, the professor chuckled.
“Yes, you do.” His thumb hovered over the button. “But do you remember why?”
The thumb pressed down, and a shock went through Talon, sending him to his knees in pain. His eyes were shut tight, and he struggled to breath even though the shock was gone.
“You think I not do this? You knew better.”
Again, a shock came from the collar, and Talon let out a cry of pain, his hands clenched into fists. His wrings were shaking, fighting the restraints. The professor watched him for a moment, and slipped the remote back into his pocket.
“You think you fool me. You should know better.”
Talon kept his eyes closed, keeping his head turned away. There was nothing he could do - his wings were in tatters, every movement sending pain through them.



Snippet Four:
She shook her head, dismissing the memory. She’d proven herself to Ingvar, and in return he’d given her the specimen to work with on her own while he tried to breed another. She couldn’t let him down. With a sigh, her head already beginning to ache from her lack of sleep, she rested her head in her hands, closing her eyes. Sometimes, she just wanted to go straight back to bed.
Her lab room wasn’t exactly the nicest room, either. Stark and white-walled, it was perfect for her research, but not so much anything else. To that extent, she’d brought in a cactus, which she’d promptly named Hercules, in an attempt to brighten the room just a little bit. She wasn’t sure if it worked yet, but it was only early days with him yet.
Glancing over at the experiment, she saw that he was finished eating. Failing to hold back a yawn that made her jaw make funny noises, she retrieved the tray the food had been on, dumping it in the tiny kitchenette to clean later — if she remembered. Right now, though, she needed another cup of coffee.
A knock on her door interrupter her, and she swore under breath, going over to answer it. At least they hadn’t barged in — it had taken her a while to cure her colleagues of doing that.
"Yes, Linda?”
Her assistant looked at her out of apologetic blue eyes. “Sorry, Doctor, but there’s a package for you.”
Natalia blinked in shock. She hadn’t been expecting anything. “Alright, then. What is it?”
Linda shrugged. “They want your signature.”
With a quick glance over her shoulder to check that everything was as it should be, and that the specimen couldn’t escape, she shut the lab door behind her, following her assistant through the plain white halls of the facility. She could still remember how it had both awed and terrified her when she’d first arrived. She had thought that she would never be able to find her way around. All the hallways looked the same.
But she knew them like the back of her hand now, and was pretty sure that she’d be able to find her way around blindfolded. Sending Linda back to her job with a soft word, Natalia opened the door that led to outside, meeting the delivery man. Her lab coat was now over her arm, looking like a normal coat, and she smiled at him.
“I’m Natalia O’Rourke,” she said. “There’s a package for me?”
He nodded, holding out the form for her to sign. “Yes. Sign here please.”
She did, and took the medium sized cardboard box with a frown. She still didn’t know what it was. As she returned to her lab, she tried to think of who would be sending her things, but no one came to mind. The door opened when she pressed her palm to the lock, and she stepped inside, automatically glancing at the specimen. He was still there, still in the same place, and she turned to her desk, putting the box carefully on it. Searching for her scissors took much longer than it should have, and she finally found them in her coat pocket. She was sure that she’d put them in her drawer.
There was a cactus in the box. She stared at it in confusion. She already had a cactus. She had no plans for another one.
With a sigh, she pulled it out, setting it beside Hercules. It was a nice looking cactus, she had to admit. She just had no clue where it had come from. There was no return address on the package, either. It looked like the cactus was hers now.
Putting that dilemma out of her mind, she turned her thoughts to the tests she had to do today, drinking her coffee. Leaning against her desk, she studied the experiment. He studied her back, barely blinking as he watched her. It unnerved her slightly, for she couldn’t read any emotion in the black eyes.
She shivered, and put her empty cup down, pulling out her clipboard.



Snippet Five:
He just shrugged. “Nothing can change them.” He turned away, brushing suddenly gentle fingers over the flowers on her cactus. “Tell me of outside,” he muttered abruptly. “Where I can do what I want.”
Something touched her heart, and she turned in her chair, tugging her lab coat off and tossing it over her already messy desk, uncaring for the papers that would spill to the floor. “It’s a strange world,” she told him. “The people are strange. But it can be wild.” Somehow, she knew he didn’t want to hear of the cities, where the rush and bustle would confuse and terrify him. He wanted to know of the trees, the open space. The places he could be free. “There is nearly always a wind, somewhere. Sometimes it’s playful, sometimes it’s mean. But it always smells like freedom.”
He’d turned to face her, and settled on the ground, his knees tucked to his chest, watching her unwaveringly. She continued, finding solace in the descriptions herself.
“The sun is warm, like a blanket. But somehow it’s warmer. I fall asleep in the sun all the time, always with a book as my pillow. The trees grow to be so tall, they seem to reach the clouds. There are so many of them. They hide the sun sometimes, and give shadows for children to play in. I used to do that. I used to play hide and seek in the forests with Sam.” For a moment, she went silent, her thoughts turned in wards. How she longed for those innocent childhood days again.
“Birds,” he prompted, and she glanced up to see that he was still watching her closely. She smiled slightly.
“Of course,” she murmured. “You’d want to know about them. Some can’t fly. They’re mostly too big, or too clumsy. But the ones that can fly… they look like they’re part of the wind, sometimes. The eagles, like you.” She nodded at his wings. “The falcons, the hawks. They’re the best fliers, the fastest, the most dangerous. I love watching them. They can soar for hours without moving a wing, without even flapping. Some birds never land, except to breed. They’re always flying, because they can’t land in the ocean, or they’ll never take off again. Some live in the snow and ice, and don’t fly through the air, but they can swim, and a lot of people say that they fly through the water instead. They’re very clumsy on the ground. They’re made for the water.” She paused, thinking. “Sometimes it’s the males who dance for the females, trying to impress them so that they choose them for mates. Other times it’s the female who draws the males to her, so she can choose between them. I’ve seen dancing brolgas. They’re the most graceful birds I’ve ever seen.”
He interrupted her. “Dance?”
She smiled slightly, and shock her head. “I can’t dance, I can’t show you. But…” She hesitated, trying to think of how to explain it. Finally, she said the only answer she knew. “It’s when people move to the song in the body,” she finally said. “Sometimes, it’s to music that is being played by someone else, but sometimes they dance to music only they can hear. It’s like making a story with your body instead of with words.”
He tilted his head. “Heart calls and body answers?”
She smiled. “Yes. That’s a wonderful way of saying it. That’s exactly it. Birds do the same thing.”