Memoirs of Kitty Siam Ch. 52

Memoirs of Kitty Siam - A New Beginning.

As I sit in my quarters aboard the battle cruiser Shinawatra looking over the contents of the small metal box that contains the sum of my pre Kitty possessions, my fingers hold and run over a soft cloth patch with the words, "Aviation Apprentice." My dark eyes scan the contents of the box and settle on my old ID disk with the number "9223931" stamped across it in raised letters, which was also imprinted in barcode form on the back of my neck long ago. These items are all that remain of my life before becoming Kitty Siam.

The first 18 years of my life I was known as contract number 9223931 which translates to lot 92, batch, 23, matrix 3931. One of my crew mates who has a thing for historical music sometimes plays an old recording of a song called, "Feel Like A Number" and complains often how without his service number no one would recognize him. The secret that I once had a number for a name is something that I dare not let out to my crewmates. After the Eugenics War we are not very welcome among those that were created the horny old-fashioned way. Even today was I to be discovered on one of Earth's colonies I would be hunted, locked away, executed or dissected even though for all outward appearances I am a totally normal looking Asian female.

I shudder when I think of what other ways the brilliant engineers at Osaka Eugenics could have configured this body and brain had my creation and configuration been contracted by another firm or individual. I should not laugh but I always do when I think of Alondra, one of my matrix mates who was created with a perfect set of double D breasts, a vagina, a 12-inch fully functional penis and a set of balls the size of a rhino. As hard as we tried we could not figure out who or what commissioned him/her/it, though we could imagine a few reasons why.

If you want a miner to work in the high gravity, low oxygen atmosphere of PY3-948, they can design and produce thousands of them for you. If you want a disease proof, pain tolerant, flexible and totally submissive pleasure slave that can take on three Dozi at once for the brothels of Anxar Two, they can build one or more for you. For some reason the biological engineers at Osaka Eugenics excelled at designing prostitutes and concubines. It is a Japanese thing I am told dating back to old Hentai mangas. Old traditions die hard I suppose, but I was a different design that incorporated the basic female package that they use on all their girls except that Thai DNA was requested instead of the usual Japanese base sequence. I have heard that Mister Drax prefers tall blond girls in his service, but being that the flight deck of the standard shuttle is quite cramped, my size was contracted to be a little smaller than his normal preference. Thankfully I did turn out to be a little taller than the average Asian woman. Topping out at five foot, six inches made things a bit more comfortable for me on long flights. I like to think that my lack of height was chosen for comfort but as an experienced pilot, I know that weight is important too and shorter pilots weigh less.

The Drax Corporation contracted my creation, and I am told that Hugo Drax participated in and approved my final design personally. As I grew older I found it odd that someone at the top of the corporate food chain would personally take an interest in my design and development. On occasion he would visit the facility to check on my progress. My function was to be a corporate shuttle pilot, transporting executives from destination to destination and when authorized, taking care of all of their needs. Part of my duties would be transporting executives, scientists, generals, government officials and such on company business. In these cases, my job was to gather information in any way possible including but not limited to espionage and seduction. It seemed an easy task to pump a person for information when you had them voluntarily confined to a small area for a long trip. It was always made clear to me in my training that the protection of my passengers and cargo would take priority even over my own safety, so above average speed, strength, and agility were also incorporated into my DNA matrix.

Some of my genetic make up is experimental. Some of the details I know, some I do not. I knew about the feline DNA in my early teens from the times I went into heat and had to be locked in my room and or sedated. I was lucky that it only lasted for about a week. The feline DNA was spliced in so I could see better in the dark, move quickly, attack silently, and hear whispers and warnings at long distances without the aid of mechanical or electrical devices that could easily be detected upon entering a port of space station. These were good traits for a spy or a bodyguard, but incorporating them into a human had to cost Mister Drax quite a few extra credits.

There were other species of DNA used I suspect but I cannot find out what they were and if anyone else found out, Osaka Corporation would be out of business, the scientists imprisoned and I would be destroyed. The Earth Alliance and the others member planets of the Pan Galactic Consortium (PGC) do not mind scientists experimenting with DNA from their own home world, but they take a harsh stance against using off world DNA to create enhanced life forms like me, or the genetic mutations that had resulted from previous attempts to create genetically superior humanoids.

The incorporation of foreign DNA did not come without a price. The others in my matrix and in my barracks were just given several pills per month to lock in their spliced DNA. Being that my construction was so advanced, for me it meant several IVs per month that at first were quite debilitating and painful. After a while though my body got used to it and adapted, and the treatments were less in number and duration. The doctors told me that it was my body accepting its configuration and I was building up a higher than normal tolerance to pain.

My dread was always the wait for the anti-agapic that I would be given once I turned eighteen. This was a cocktail of chemicals and natural fluids that was still highly experimental and I would be the first humanoid subject to take it. The anti-agapic would lock my spliced genetic makeup into its current configuration for the rest of my life and I would no longer have to take the periodic treatments. I had been told that in lab animals it allowed them to regenerate quickly after a traumatic injury and that it slowed or even stopped the aging process. The upside was that I would be locked into an eighteen year old face and body that looked like that of a fifteen or sixteen year old for the rest of my life. I suppose most Earth women would kill for that sort of treatment. The downside is that the conversion process is extremely painful and in most lab tests with primates, brutally fatal. This would not deter my owner, he wanted his spy, he wanted his pilot, and if I did not survive the process, he would have created another, and another, until they got it right.

I will do my best to keep up this journal and hope that over time that it does not get boring for those that read the accounts of my life. I know that this entry is short but it is time for me to go on duty. I am not sure why but as I close this entry I get a feeling of déjà vu. Perhaps I had one too many shots of vodka with the Russians last night at the officers club?

THE END!