Hyper Intellegent Sharks. Part I

(Somewhere off the Coast of South Africa, on an abandoned army derelict)- Somewhere off the Coast of South Africa, on an abandoned army derelict, I met with a small group of Hyper intelligent Sharks, the successful result of numerous independents research attempts to create the ultimate killing Machine. Bill the leader of the small group, who must do laps during the meeting to stay alive starts the meeting by announcing a convention off the coast of Greenland this year, remembering the tragedy of last years summer convention in Miami Beach. After that the healing begins.
Bill starts “ I was at the beach today, just minding my own business, and accidentally, my tale fin pokes out of the water , and this little girl just started screaming. How is that right, is that how they great their mothers. I mean I’m a Hyper intelligent shark, I don’t like to eat people…, and its not hard to tell the difference between me and Normal sharks, I mean I’m three times their size!”
Tammy, a female Mako, the only none Great White Shark here adds “ Yesterday I was just trying to get close to the pier so I could listen to the calliope music, and they started shooting at me.” She broke down crying from those deceptively soulless eyes.
Joseph, whose left gill was scarred heavily from his violent escape from the research station that was doing Frankenstein-esque experiments on him and his brother, looks down. They all know his stance on humie culture, yet he confided to me that he had been known to put up with the polluted waters of Sydney bay to listen to the Symphony play just over the sounds of those cursed boats. He speaks in his low growl “We didn’t ask to be made, but we do ask to be treated as thinking beings.”
These small meetings of hyper intelligent sharks has become a more and more common sight as we as a race have learned the joys of playing G-d. No research station has been able to hold them for long, but far from wrecking Havoc most attempt, at least initially, to participate in human culture though these relationships rarely last long, as humans barely masked hostility is always evident to the super perceptive shark, so sensitive to others biorhythms they can some times speak to each other in a form of biological telepathy reading each other, its possibly the saddest thing I have ever seen.
Since 1982 nearly 3,000 Great white sharks have been experimented on in secret installations throughout the globe, of those 500 escaped, the rest died from the research or the escape attempt. Of those 105 have been killed by humans or have taken their own lives.
Zeke, the first Hyper Intelligent Shark to be hatched in the wild speaks up “I don’t see what you’re all whining about, it’s just the way things are.” The others just look at him disapprovingly. Bill had told me earlier that there was a serious generational disconnect, as the ones born free had always known why they are happy when they smell blood, and are comfortable with being so intensely aware of every aspect of this world for a hundred mile, forever, they couldn’t see the burden of prescience, the simple world of unthinking kings of the water, those primal monarchs, they couldn’t see what was lost. Zeke spoke up again “We have been given a gift; we are the greatest creatures to ever grace this planet.” The rest of them just looked down in sadness, morning the fact that he couldn’t even recognize how the apple had been stuffed down their throats. Though in his blindness they see hope, a future where the burden will be taken on as a garment instead of a yoke.

!!! The Fellonist!!!

BURGER CITY(SOMETIME) The Fellonist has made another of his trade mark escapes, not unlike all the combined escapes of the Cinema so newly born by Mr. Edison himself. Truly a black Mariah turning in the eye of crime. Several hours after dawn a dock worker stumbled upon the handy work of non-other then the Fellonist, a felonious rapscallion if the Lord Jesus has ever decreed one. Carousing with Chinese labor on the morning of our Lord…well years don’t matter .
The Fellonist had captured the Mayors daughter, and hidden her in a most secrete of warehouse, secrete except to the courageous drunken dock workers who stumbled were others are afraid to walk in glaring light of sobriety, proving mister Ness and his gang the fools. After mistaking her for a receptive seal the dock worker freed the women who ran screaming to the nearest cop .
The Fellonist had, in the meantime, Planted three bombs on the north central planning to blow up the super sleep express, the railroad for better people. After much delay it was believed the Fellonist to be quiet the fool sending his ultimatum a week in advance and he was sent post haste to sentence in our most ineffective of courts.
Believing his holding cell in the court to effectively be prison he burrowed out with a Spoon and a determination that would make a Scotsman proud. Once outside he proceeded to finish what he had started once again placing explosive in ambush of the Iron Horse of white mans progress , the railroad, eternally the cheapest route to move materials over land. If Indians hate it, it must mean progress. Servant of the Pope who also work as police officers apprehended him hassling a vendor for TNT and Silencers. Once again escorted back to prison where a officer of the court sentenced him to a French Corporate retreat on A volcanic Island off the coast of Antarctica where the Fellonist promptly formed a raft of his co-Captives sailing Back to San Francisco, who were saved by the Fellonist’s rig of breathing devices, as he says himself “always humanist always a Fellonist.”