Changelings

Ronan felt sympathy pangs in his own arms and legs. He did not weigh as much in proportion to the size of his flippers, when in seal form, as the turtle did, but dry surfaces that didn't slide or give were more difficult for seals to navigate too. Of course, for him and Murel, it posed no problem since they could quickly morph to their human form so flippers were no longer an issue.

"What is the matter with the wretched creature?" the professor asked.

"Looks like maybe he's too heavy to take all his weight on his flippers where there's no give to the surface," Ronan told her, thinking that if she was such a hotshot biologist she ought to know stuff like that. "I'll go find some more sand or dirt or something in the 'ponies garden."

"You will do no such thing," his teacher said. "We'll flip the thing over onto its shell and examine its underside. If its flippers are a problem for it, then perhaps on encountering a situation where the flippers are of no use, it will take its alternate form, which is presumably one that does not have flippers."

Oh, cruel! Oh, pain and agony! Oh, anguish! The turtle groaned, and big tears rolled down its face. Please don't let her put me on my shell. It's humiliating and I'm so helpless.

She doesn't listen to me real well, but maybe when she grabs you, you should bite her. Not me, mind you, her.

I abhor violence.

Why? Ronan asked. He didn't underestimate creatures who were not human, but he didn't ascribe codes of morality to them either.

I'm not fast enough to get away when it starts, usually, the turtle replied.

Yeah, I can see where that makes sense. But if you could lower your standards long enough to just bite her and hang on, then you won't have to be fast enough to get away from violence because you'll be the one being violent. And besides, she sort of expects you to.

No, no. If I bite her, she will retaliate when I finally have to let go. But if I don't come out at all, she'll have no choice but to go away and pick on someone else. I hope. Saying this, the turtle retreated all the way back into the box.

"Never send a boy to do a scientist's job," Professor Mabo said. She shoved Ronan aside, shoved the metal tank to the end of the metal table, kept shoving it until half of it was suspended over the floor, then upended it.

Uh-uh-uh-oh! the turtle cried as it slid out and tumbled, flippers and feet over shell, onto the floor. Now I'm done for. Don't let her torture me too long, boy.

Ronan stooped down, picked up the shell in both hands and gently righted the turtle. I'd tell you to run for it but I don't imagine that's a practical suggestion, he said.

"Now that it's out in the open, we'll immerse it and see if that causes it to change," Dr. Mabo said. "Pick it up, Ronan. Come on now, what's the matter with you? Afraid of a little turtle bite?"

He wasn't, actually. He was just trying to pick the poor creature up without harming its flippers or any of its tender bits. The professor slid a wall panel aside to reveal two tanks, each about eight feet deep and just as wide, side by side.

One was clearly freshwater, since it was, well, clear. "In here first," the professor said. Ronan climbed a metal ladder up to the top of the tank, not an easy thing to do with his hands full of turtle. "Release it!" she snapped. Ronan did, and the turtle first sank like a stone then struggled to right itself. To the professor's disgust, however, it remained a turtle. It was a very angry and frightened turtle but that was all. It did not change into anything else. It did demand of Ronan, What is this stuff? It feels like water but there's no buoyancy.

Ronan said, "Professor, if this is a saltwater turtle and people where it comes from claim that it changes, don't you think that it probably does its changing in salt water, since that's where it lives?"

"I suppose so, but we must be thorough in exploring which stimulus is the one that activates the change. Scientific method, my boy, scientific method." She handed him a sturdy net to fish the turtle out of the freshwater tank, which he did, and directed him to release the creature into the saltwater tank instead.

The turtle, so clumsy on land, was graceful as an otter or a seal in the salt water. Its flippers flowed beside it like wings as they propelled it around the tank. It was in raptures. Oh, oh, my dear boy, you are a wonder! This is fantastic! Look! Backward roll! Forward roll! Sideways flip!