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Disclaimer: Helen Narbon, Zeta Vincent, et al, are the property of Shaenon K. Garrity, who I am hoping will look kindly upon this. Rights (and rites) to them are hers and hers alone.
It had been a year almost to the day since the sudden disappearance of Lupin Madblood, both Helen Narbons, Dave Davenport, Artie, and ANTONIO SMITH, leaving only the deceased (and mysteriously shrunken) body of Mell Kelly, a destroyed duck-shaped starship and the devastated ruins of San Francisco behind them. Due to this, it could be forgiven that Zeta Vincent would be surprised to receive a package from her 'mother', sent to her by the law office of Wolfram and Hart. it was dated from a few weeks before her disappearance, and consisted of a large sealed box marked 'Biohazard', and a videodisc with instructions for her to open the box and play the disc in an inconspicuous place that had been swept for bugs.
Intrigued by this odd arrival, she decided to head out to a Motel Six near Chico which she had used as a safehouse in the past. Within the box, she found a large oval object covered in pock marks, like a the classic image of a meteorite, carefully packed in foam. When she picked it up, she found it to be surprisingly light, though it still must have weighed at least fifteen pounds. Placing it back in the padding, she wondered what the odd thing could possibly be, and just how much damage it would cause by the time she found out. With a sigh, she loaded the DVD into a player she had brought.
"Are we set up, Dave? Thanks. Zeta, if you are seeing this, then I have either died or disappeared, and can no longer follow up on this rather important experiment. Being the only fmily I have other than my mother, I thought I could prevail on you to follow through on it, as it could very well be the last big achievement of my lifetime. Well, aside from whatever it is that killed me, I suppose.
Inside this box is some kind of egg. A colleague of mine stole it from the lab she was working at for me shortly before she was destroyed by her own creations, or something along those lines I suppose. I never heard from her again, at any rate. According to her, they can serve as a receptacle for any form of genetic material, and will hybridize whatever species it comes from, including terrestrial ones - she never explained that part, but I'd guess it means that the egg is from some alien lifeform, probably some sort of body-snatcher things I imagine. She also gave me directions for a form of cryo-storage that could keep the egg safe but unfertilized for an indefinite time.
Needless to say, this was a golden opportunity for me, and I didn't want to waste it on just any old thing. I needed to be sure I had just the right mix of DNA for it, to produce something that was beyond even my own vast gene-splicing abilities. I have a number of candidates available, and have placed samples for them with the egg for use when I am ready. I've done a bit of tinkering with them as well, of course, after all if you are going to tamper in God's domain you might as well go all out.
Still, I'd like to wait and see if I can find something really... unusual... to add to it. But it's not just that. There's also a matter of responsibility. I would rather create a more human sort of hybrid. Quite frankly, I haven't had the best of luck with my more monstrous creations, so I'd much rather raise someone who won't try to eat me if I discipline them. So I've kinda put the whole thing off rather longer than I probably should, and after the whole fiasco with the hamsters, I'm not sure when my luck is going to finally catch up with me.
Tha is why I decided to place the egg in a safe location outside of my own lab, in the hands of Clone Dave. This is where he's been all this time, in fact, I know people thought that I used him to give original Dave his new body but as a matter of fact I grew that one from scratch. Again. I've left instructions with Clone Dave that if I should disappear for more than three months, then he should fertilize the egg with the samples I've already collected, and simply accept what comes of it. You'll find a list of the gene donors in the box. If I hadn't shown up within six months, he would arrange to have the egg sent to you by a neutral (though evil, of course) third party to take care of.
I know I was never much of a creator to you Zeta, but it seems to me that you turned out pretty well over all. I'm sure you'll know just how to handle this matter responsibly. I suppose I could have left the creature with Clone Dave, but even though he's sane, he's not exactly father material. Except in the genetic sense, I mean. Anyway, I trust you to do the right thing."
As the video ended, Zeta could only shake her head in amazement. This was just so... so... Helen! S&!@!, she thought, like I need this sort of thing at my age! What kind of parent would a Doctor of Journalism be? She didn't really want to know. Her trepidation grew as she read over the list of gene-parents. It was a long one, and most of the people on it - human, gerbil or otherwise, - were complete and total nutters. Seeing her own name on the list didn't help, though she supposed it was some sort of strange honor. This kid was going to need some serious therapy, she realized, and probably special pants with a hole for a tail as well.
But as she saw the egg shake and begin to crack open, she realized that she could do the responsible thing, after all.
"Hey, Sister Agnes, it's Zeta, remember me? What's that? Mother Superior, now? No s@$@t? That's great. Well, anyway, listen, I was wondering, does St. Egregius' still take in orphans?"