Centaursite.com - Becoming a Centaur
BECOMING A CENTAUR

I have had a fascination with Centaurs for some time. I collected pictures of them, wrote stories about them, and imagined what it would be like to be one. The power of such a being, it's stability, grace and balance seemed to combine the best aspects of both human and animal. So you can imagine my surprise, and pleasure when I awoke one day in Centaur form.

My change wasn't caused by some mad scientist doing bizarre genetic splicing experiments, or some powerful wizard showing up out of the middle ages causing me to change by some magic potion and spells shouted at a full moon. At least not that I know of. This occurred right here in the real world.

In reality I cannot explain what caused my transformation. I had come home from my job, eaten dinner, ate a few cookies as I watched a little TV, and had lain down to sleep. I drifted off fairly quickly, and the rest of the night had seemed uneventful. The next thing I was aware of was a crash and a feeling of vertigo as my bed collapsed on the floor. I was startled, and thought my feeling of un-coordination and clumsiness was a result of being awakened out of a sound sleep. As I looked around to see what had caused the noise, I became aware rather quickly of how strange I felt. My legs seemed to be hanging off the sides of the bed, and the covers were all tangled around them, As I tried to free them from the sheet and blankets, I noticed that no matter how I moved I didn't seem to be making much progress. I knew that I wasn't going to get this mess straightened out working in the dark so I attempted to reach over and turn on the light.

As I fumbled for the switch, I found that rolling over seemed to be an almost impossible task. There seemed to be some great weight attached to my hips, which didn't seem to be in the right place. As I tried to explain this to myself, my hand finally made contact with the lamp. I felt around for the switch, and squinted against the flash of light as I turned it on.

When my eyes adjusted I saw that my bed had indeed collapsed, and I had either gained a huge amount of weight since I went to sleep, or there was something else in the bed with me. I was startled by this and seemingly without thinking I shook the covers off and rose to my feet.

As I rose I knocked over the night stand, spilled the glass of water and the lamp that was on it, and nearly knocked myself senseless as my head hit a plant hanging from the ceiling. Luckily the fall didn't cause the bulb to break, and it continued to shine as I tried to get myself under control. As I looked down My eyes saw a broad chest, falling smoothly into well developed abdominal muscles which blended into a flat sheet of muscle that split into a pair of legs that ended in hooves. My body just below my abs was covered with smooth white fur or hair, and I noticed that the area between these legs was devoid of what had been in this area all my life. It had been replaced by what looked like a second chest. I immediately turned at the waist and saw what I had somehow expected. A horse's body flaring out from my hips to blend with the equine shoulders of my lower body, narrowing at the waist and spreading out into broad hindquarters where a tail hung swishing, seemingly of it's own accord. I naturally had to wave it around, and found it easy to do. I noticed that it was blond, making a nice contrast to the white of my lower body. I had somehow become a centaur. As I studied my new form I became aware that my human torso was much better developed than my human body had ever been. Not hugely muscled like Conan the Barbarian or some wrestler, but more subtly yet sharply defined, like a gymnast. The transition from my human to my equine aspect was almost indistinguishable. The blending of the two forms was understated yet the two parts were distinct. I was pleased to find, that I had a blond mane growing down my back, but my ears had retained their human form. I also found that I could see more clearly than I ever had in my life, even without my glasses, which I had worn for years and my hearing was markedly improved.

I stood in my bedroom in wonder at this transition, and then it hit me; What should I do now' Who should I call' I couldn't very well hop in my Honda and drive over to Steven Speilburg's house and ask him for a role in his next movie. As I considered my options, I decided that I should at least get into a larger space and study my body a little more carefully. My bedroom, though large by human standards was now claustrophobically small. I also found that I was both hungry and thirsty, so I started to make my way to the kitchen.

With an almost negligible kick of my left foreleg, I tossed the bed, it's frame, the mattress spring and covers against the wall. I saw then that I would have to be careful. I was strong as a ... well, you know, and would have to control myself carefully until I was used to this new form.

As I attempted to leave the bedroom I found walking to be quite a job at first. I had to move this leg, lift that one, put the other down, then do the same with two more in the back. As I reached the door, I was faced with my first obstacle. The sharp right turn down the hall to the living room suddenly seemed to be an awfully small passage. I had to bend my torso almost horizontally to clear the door jam, and the width of both my lower shoulders and hindquarters scraped against the door as I squeezed through it. My body ground against both sides of the hallway as I made my way down it, and I had to move a bookcase and carry it before me to gain enough clearance to make it into the open space of the living room. I was surprised yet pleased that I now had the strength to do so.

As I cleared the entrance into the main room, I breathed in a sigh of relief. I had never been claustrophobic before, but then I had never been eight feet tall and with a body the size of a double door refrigerator. As I made my way into the kitchen, I was faced with more obstructions, which I moved out of the way with a strength and delicacy that surprised me. I made my way to the refrigerator and bending at my human waist, started rummaging through it.

I found a pizza which I had brought home from work, and popped it in the microwave. After setting the timer I pulled a full head of lettuce out of the crisper, and without any dressing or salt, stood there and ate it like an apple. As I wolfed down the last of it the microwave beeped, and I started eating the pizza. Just as I finished it, the phone rang.

As I made my way to the cordless unit on the kitchen wall, I noticed that it was 5:30am. I remembered that my uncle Bernie and I were getting together for some fishing today. Well I didn't think Bernie wanted his boat to sink, so I had to make up some sort of excuse pretty quick. I picked up the receiver.

"Hello," I answered. "Well, I'm glad to see I'm not going to have to come over there and drag you out of bed again," A jovial voice boomed from the receiver, "Are you ready to go'" Uncle Bernie was my father's brother, and had looked after me as a child since my parent's death 25 years ago. He and my dad had inherited my grandfather's business and they had turned it from a struggling local produce store into a massive nationwide grocery distribution operation. Bernie was worth almost 30 billion dollars, but he still went to yard sales and clipped coupons.

"Hey Bernie," I replied, "Listen I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to bow out today, something's come up and I'm not going to be able to go." "Aw that's too bad, I picked up a nice Bajun rod at a yard sale and I was looking forward to giving it a try. But the Weather Channel says it going to rain today, so its' probably just as well."

"Thanks Bernie, glad its' not going to mess up your day."

"Aw, that's O. K. I've got a shipment of produce going east today, so I might as well go over to the plant and make sure it gets out on time."

It then occurred to me that the answer to my problems just might be on the other end of the phone. Uncle Bernie had almost 10,000 acres of property in the west Georgia mountains. He had built a nice cabin, an equipment barn, and run power and telephone lines in almost 20 years ago. He had equipped it with generators, a deep clear water well, and communications equipment. He had a cache of vehicles, equipment and tools that he had started collecting during the Cold War. "I want a place to go if them Ruskies start marchin' up Main Street," He would say. He had used it as a hunting preserve, but after an accident had left him walking with a cane, he had never returned. Yet he had always kept everything well maintained and ready to go.

"Ya never know what might happen. The preserve is a safe place, and I want a bolt hole if those Malitia nuts or the Christian Right take over." I think he was just kidding me, but then again I think he might have meant it, deep down. Bernie and I had always been close, and I had trusted him with the numerous problems and confidences of growing up and becoming a man. The preserve was just the place for me to go and hide out until I changed back, or stay if I never did. I decided then and there that I was going to ask him what to do.

"Say Bernie," I asked, "I've really got a problem here. Maybe you can help me out."

"What the matter, son' You know you can count on me." He paused for a second, "You haven't knocked some girl up have you'"

"No Bernie it's nothing like that." I replied. Then I paused. "Bernie, maybe you ought to come over here." I could hear the concern in his voice, "You're not hurt are you'"

"No, but come around to the back door, and be ready for a shock." "I'll be right over," He answered and the phone clicked as he hung up. Well, there was no turning back now. I felt I had done the right thing, but I wasn't sure what Bernie's response to my new form was going to be. He had fought in two wars, and traveled the world. He had told me stories about things he had seen that would cause a normal man to faint, and laughed about them. I opened the sliding glass doors to the back yard and stepped out.

As I stepped off the patio onto the lawn, I was aware of how much more comfortable my feet, er hooves felt on the grass, I also noticed how smooth and graceful my movements were. I found that moving and controlling my body was coming naturally now. The sensation of feeling the cool morning air on my upper torso and lower body was quite stimulating. I feel the breeze blowing my tail around, and quickly dismissed it. I also noticed that I needed to relieve myself.

I walked down the yard towards the lake, and found a good spot near the compost pile. I reached down, and suddenly remembered that I wasn't going to find anything there. Well, there was nothing to do but just let it go.

As I relaxed, I heard a loud splash. It sounded like a garden hose turned on at full blast, and seemed to go on forever. As I finished, I walked forward then turned around to see that it had been a lot. I suddenly became aware that I was still thirsty, so I walked around my house and turned on the garden hose. I started drinking, and must have gulped water for a good five minutes straight. As my thirst was finally relieved, I heard Bernie's Blazer skidding into the drive, and the squeal of brakes as he pulled up behind my Honda.

My heart, or hearts raced with anxiety as I waited for him to come around the side of the house. There was no place to hide, and I had already decided to take him into my confidence. There was nothing to do but let him see me all at once. Bernie came around the corner and started to walk up to the sliding glass doors, His eyes brushed over and past me, and then with a start, his attention was focused on me.

"What the hell'" He said as he walked toward me, "Is that you son'"

"Yeah, Bernie, it's me. This is the problem I was talking about."

"Well I'll be damned, you're a Centaur." He said as he walked around me and inspected my body, " How in the hell did this happen'"

"I don't know, I just woke up the morning and I was like this." Bernie pulled out his pipe, loaded it, lit it and started puffing. He walked around me inspecting my body and poking and prodding me in different places. As a young man Bernie had worked summers at a local stable. He had assisted the blacksmith shoeing horses, and the vet in treating them.

"Well, I sure don't think you can stay here. Any idea if this is permanent, or are you going to change back'"

"I don't know that either, but I was thinking I might stay up at the preserve for a while until I figure this out. That is if it's O.K. with you."

"That's a fine idea," He said with a look of discovery, "There's power and phone up there, and the house is big enough for you to be comfortable in. I tell you what. I'll go get a truck from the plant. You get what you want to take with you together, and I'll meet you back here as soon as I can get things set up. It may take me a few hours, will you be all right 'til I get back'"

"Yeah, I guess so," I replied, "But how about bringing back something to eat' Horses eat a lot . And I guess you can figure it out, I'm going to eat a lot too." "No problem son, I can get all food you want. You just relax and get ready and I'll see you before lunch."

I thanked Uncle Bernie and walked around with him to the front of the house. It was set back from the road, and the view from there was blocked by some trees, so I felt fairly safe. As he got in his car and backed out the drive, I gave out a sigh of relief, knowing that I had his help. They always said two heads are better t than one, and I felt lucky knowing that I wasn't going to have to deal with this completely on my own. I walked around to the back yard and went in through the sliding glass doors.

Chapter Two

After a few hours of collecting the necessities, clothes, (only one pair of pants, under pants, socks and shoes which I may never wear) my rolodex, bank books, wallet and credit cards, some family pictures and momentous and of course my collection of Centaur pictures, stories and other related items. I had everything I thought I would need in three suitcases by the back door. Getting the suitcases out of the attic is a story I'll tell at another time. Suffice to say, there is a hole in the ceiling under where they were stored. I stood in the kitchen wishing I had about five more heads of lettuce, and waiting for Bernie to arrive. As I looked around the house I would probably never see again, I heard a roaring motor coming up the drive. I peeked out from between the curtains, and saw a refrigerator truck rolling up. Emblazoned on the side were the words, "Bernie's Produce and Grocery Distribution" with a picture of a smiling tomato saying, "Highest Quality in America and the World."

The truck pulled up on the grass in the front yard, backed around the side, and pulled within feet of the back door. The engine shut down, and Bernie carefully lowered himself out of the cab, favoring his bad leg.

"Well son, it's not a Cadillac but it'll get us there. Have you got your things together'

"Sure do" I said, " everything right by the door here, open the back and I'll load it up."

Bernie lifted the latch, and swung open the cargo doors of the truck. I was expecting to see a shiny metal box, with straps on the supports for securing boxes and crates. Instead I was greeted with the sight of cushions attached to the walls of a stout 3 sided box reinforced with steel beams.

"Don't mean to be insulting, but it might be more comfortable if you stood in here. It'll keep you from falling as I drive along. " With that he pulled out a ramp, and with a bow ushered me inside.

Bernie had had a hole cut between the cargo box and the cab so we could talk during the trip. Several water cooler size bottles full of spring water were secured by one wall, and to top it off, there were cases of fresh produce and groceries against the walls, "Bernie, this is great!" I said as I stepped inside, "How did you do this so fast'"

"Well, I know this Billionaire who owns a produce company. Sometimes it pays to have connections."

We both laughed as he closed the doors. I got settled in my "seat" and discovered I could lock my legs to keep myself steady. As Bernie climbed into the cab and started the engine, he turned to the peep hole and said, "Hold on son, here we go!" Chapter Three

In reality the trip to the preserve was mostly uneventful. Bernie would pull off the highway for gas or a snack, and from time to time he would find a deserted area for me to get out, stretch, my legs and heed nature's call. At night he would pull into one of his distribution centers for a break and both of us would nap for a few hours. Then with both of us rested and more supplies loaded, we would roar off again towards our final destination.

It took us two and a half days to reach the preserve. It was located in the rugged mountains of North West Georgia, in a sparsely populated area. Access to the preserve was a small paved road that seemed to be nothing but pot holes. "I had to pay to get a guy elected to keep this road from being repaired," He said, "But I don't want anybody snooping' around out here, especially now." From this road, He took a small path paralleling some power lines, and then up what looked like a deer track. After travelling this road for almost two hours, he finally managed the truck across a stream and turning behind an outcropping of rock, we arrived at the preserve.

It was just as I had remembered. The house barn and outbuildings were built of stout pine logs. Everything was neat and well maintained. And there was a huge shipping container sitting on the ground close to the house.

"Hey Bernie," I asked, "What's that'"

"That's your groceries" He answered.

"How did it get here'" "I had it brought in by helicopter," He laughed," I'll have one filled up at the Atlanta plant and brought up here every week. If you're outside and hear a helicopter, you'll know it's time to get inside and keep from being seen." Bernie and I toured the place. He showed me some special features he had had installed during the last week for my convenience. For instance he had arranged a shower on the side of the house with hot and cold running water, a wide doorway that I could easily fit through. And a huge mattress that I could lay on without any of my feet hanging over the edge.

"I got this mattress when Shaq left The Magic in Orlando. I knew I'd have a use for it someday! Now lets go out to the barn, I have something special for you." We walked out to the barn. The smell of old hay and leather, mixed with machine oil brought back fond memories of visiting here as a child. Tarps covered Bernie's old cars. A 1924 Model A with Henry Ford's signature on the dashboard. The original Batmobile from the old T. V. Series. And his Tucker Tornado Bernie walked over to his tool bench and picked up his hammer and a number of unusual looking nails. He reached inside his coat and pulled out four....

"Horseshoes! Gee Bernie, I don't know. The idea of those nails..." Bernie had walked up to me as I was saying this. With a grunt and leaning on his cane with one hand and holding the hammer in the other he got down on his knees and BANG! Hit my left forehoof with it.

"Ya' didn't feel that did ya''" He said as he returned to his feet. "If you're anything like a regular horse, your hooves are just like toenails. It doesn't hurt when you cut them does it'"

" Well, no," I said, "And I guess I do need to protect my feet...er, hooves."

"That's right, now these horsehoes are made of rubber or somthin'. I got this stuff from a buddy of mine at NASA, and had 'em made into shoes. Now lift up this foot and let me go to work."

Bernie quickly, efficiently and most importantly painlessly nailed the horseshoes onto my hooves. He did so with the skill and speed of one who had spent a few summers doing so day in and out, not because he had to, but because of his love for horses, and his determination to do the job well.

When he finished, I took a few steps around the barn. I was surprised at how much more comfortable I felt with them, and how quiet they were on the wooden floor of the barn.

"Hey, nice job Bernie, Thanks!" I said.

"Well, I've had some experience with horses, and you were a willing patient." We both laughed as we made our way from the barn to the house.

We spent the evening discussing my situation, Bernie's health, and the state of the world. The next morning, as Bernie prepared to leave he gave me a phone number where I could reach him, the address of his office in the Atlanta plant, and that of "Joe", who Bernie said was a man who could do or get anything.

"If for some reason, you can't get aholt of me, " He said, "Call Joe. I have trusted him in a lot of ways, and he's never let me down. And remember you'll be getting a crate like that one in the yard every Wednesday. If you want anything, just order it. You have your credit cards, and the bills will come to me. I'll take care of everything. Just have it delivered to the Atlanta plant, attention C. N. Taur and it will be put in the shipping crate and brought out here"

We both laughed at his lame pun. As he shrugged into his coat, I reached down and gave him a hug.

"Thanks Bernie," I said, "I don't know what I would have done if it wasn't for you."

He shrugged off my embrace and stepped back, "Aw, it's nothin'. Anyway, I'll be comin' back up here pretty often now, and besides, you'll need to get those shoes changed in about six months." He walked over to the cab of the truck and eased himself in, favoring his bad leg. The last few days had taken a lot out of him, and I was made aware of how old Bernie was getting. I walked over to the cab, able to stand right next to it and look down into the driver's seat.

"Take care, Bernie," I said, "I'll keep in touch. And hey, take it easy. You're not getting any younger."

"I can still kick your backside around the block, even if you do outweigh me by a ton."

With that he started the truck and backed up. As the truck crossed the stream, I felt a real appreciation and love for the old man. I hoped things would be all right, but he was 79. I felt I didn't have a lot of time to share with Bernie and I wanted to make the best of what was left.

After a week or two of getting settled in, I decided I wanted a computer. I thought that if I had become a Centaur, others might have too. The following Wednesday, the helicopter lowered a shipping container into the side yard, released the cables, picked up the now empty one, and flew away towards the west. I wonder what the pilots think about delivering one of those each week out here in the middle of nowhere' I unloaded the supplies, including a quarter ton of various foods that went into the cooler Bernie had had installed, and a brand new computer.

I set it up inside the house, connected it to the phone line, and looked up "Centaurs" which is where I met all of you. After about 6 months, I left the Preserve and moved back to my home (well, my home town anyway) in Florida and re-entered Human society.

I received this by masked email one day. I don't know if it's true, but it sure sounds possible.
REPORT OF CENTAUR TO HUMAN TRANSFORMATION PROJECT Submitted by Carl D. Johnson
Director Species Development

In 1985 our agency was informed of the existence of a female centaur in Portland Oregon. This centaur called herself Mavra, and claimed to have been transformed from a human into her present form, which this agency was unable to prove or disprove. Although the subject's story is on file in its entirety (HCTF-46A) a short summary follows:

Mavra was born in 1965 in Portland Oregon. She suffered from Hodgkin's disease, a cancer of the lymph glands. Although victims of HD have a 90% chance of complete recovery, the treatment is painful and time consuming. Her story is that she fell asleep and was transformed into a female centaur. Who then sought help at the local hospital. She began calling himself Mavra after a character in a science fiction novel, (The Return Of Nathan Brazil by Jack L. Chalker (Jack L. Chalker File JLC-CSF-21). An operative at the hospital informed us of the arrival of this centaur and within minutes agent Hooks (Dismissed from force 1988 - now missing) agent Jackson (Serving South Pole Station) and agent Johnson (retired) were directed to confirm the existence and facilitate capture of said centaur.

After capture, subject Mavra was found to be a healthy fully functional female centaur as known from Greek mythology. Mavra's upper body was that of a human female appearing about 20 years of age. She possessed brownish black hair of shoulder length. This hair growth patterned extended from her scalp and down her back in the form of a mane. Her human portion, which appeared entirely human and female continued to her hips, and which point it joined with her lower body which was similar in appearance to that of a female horse. Her torso joined the horse portion in the area where the horse's neck would have extended from its shoulders. The hips of the human portion blending smoothly into the shoulders of the horse. The female horse portion according to veterinarians was similar to a horse but with some minor differences, as discussed in the full report on subject mentioned above (FBI file HCTF-46A).

Tests on the subject Mavra, indicated an unknown genome in her DNA (HEI-AGGTTCAACCTGGTTAAC) Black list funds were used to prepare and equip a lab to research and replicate this genome, into a form which would cause subject Mavra's transformation in others. It was found that such a genome could be easily developed and mass-produced as a serum. Tests using this serum were initiated, all resulting in failure. Failed animal tests produced some six limbed mutants, and generally ended in the animal's death. Human tests run at a last resort resulted in humans with horse attributes, long face and nose, moveable ears, tails, along with hoofed hands and feet. One subject grew a second torso from his shoulders resulting in four arms. All human test subjects were terminated. Full results of these tests can be found in file (HCI-F-265-A/B/C/D/E/F/G/H/I/J and K).

Further comparison of the failed test subjects and subject Mavra's genome revealed the matching genome, a centaur link (HCI-CCTTGGACCTAGGTCCA). The aforementioned sequence is a binding site for a centaur-specific promoter that, after binding, would elicit the production of a protein that would begin production of the transformation process.. It was found that only subjects possessing this link and then ingesting the (HCI- AGGTTCAACCTGGTTAAC) genome, would make the transformation successfully. Although the program was set back by this discovery, it was decided to locate test subjects with this (HCI- CCTTGGACCTAGGTCCA) genome, and proceed with testing in hopes of reproducing the centaur link genome. It was determined that centrally located medical records would allow locating subjects who met the criteria.

After running data purges and comparison programs through out the files of insurance, hospitals, clinics, military and doctor's records, a matching subject was found. Although a wider pattern of testing would have given more accurate results, time restraints and pressures from supervisors convinced mid level managers to proceed on this subject alone.

This subject known as Argon (FBI CHTM-14C) was born in Sanford Florida on October 27, 1965. His father and uncle had successfully taken a small grocery store, and built it into one of the nation's largest grocery distribution companies. At the age of five, subject Argon's parents were killed in a car accident after which his uncle, Bernard Harrison Franklin (FBI-PFD-34465A) took custody of the child and raised him. Due to his uncle's wealth and influence, subject Argon had lived in an exclusive neighborhood and after attending public school graduated Magna cum Laud from Yale University with a Masters in business. After returning home, he started work at his uncle's chain of Pizza Hut restaurants, working his way from driver to manager in a year's time. It was understood that in another year, he would become district manager of the family's chain of restaurants, and then later take over the family business. His age of 30 was thought to be of concern at the time, as subject Mavra was 20 when her transformation occurred, but the absence of any other suitable candidates forced the test to proceed.

Subject Argon was found through data comparison of his Doctor, Harold Oakley, located in Sanford Florida. After finding subject Argon possessed the required physical attributes, a break-in was staged at Oakley's office (FBI-CO-67554343A) along with several other break-ins to successfully lead local authorities in to believing drug addicts has committed all the crimes.. News reports from the area indicated that the deception worked perfectly. Blood samples from Oakley's office indicated that subject Argon possessed the centaur link.

Research with the obtained blood sample allowed the centaur link genome to be isolated in the lab. However it was found impossible to replicate with present technology. The serum which would theoretically initiate the change in subjects with the centaur link had been produced from subject Mavra's DNA for the earlier tests and it was determined that subject Argon would be infused with said serum to cause his transformation into centaur form.

With a male and a female centaur, a breeding program could be undertaken. Once other subjects could be reproduced consistently, the original pair would be destroyed for autopsy. If the centaur subjects refused to cooperate, drugs and artificial insemination techniques could be used. Although this plan did not achieve the goal of at will centaur creation, it would certainly provide the program with a number of subjects on which to test and experiment. It was decided to proceed using subject Argon.

Due to subject Argon's relationship to Bernard Franklin, a long time friend of a powerful and influential government leader, political considerations required that ingestion of the serum would take place outside the lab without the subject's knowledge. Subject Argon was known to patronize a bakery weekly on Friday to buy sugar cookies. Several agents were able to persuade the owner of the bakery to take an extended vacation. A special batch of the cookies was produced, each having the required amount of serum. Subject Argon arrived about 5:00pm was waited on by "Margie" an employee of the bakery who agreed to assist the agents. Subject Argon left and agents took their places to stake out his residence. Preparation was readied for moving subject Argon after his transformation, or eliminating subject if serum failure occurred.

Due to mismanagement of resources the observation of subject Argon was intermittent through out the night, and non existent at the time of subject Argon's transformation. Later review of surveillance tapes indicated that the subject's transformation occurred at 6:03 am local time. A single phone call to subject's uncle, the above-mentioned Bernie Franklin, and subject's removal from his home by same was overlooked by surveillance agents until subject had been lost.

Review of visual records and audio recording show that subject Argon transformed while sleeping. The period of transformation took a period of 45.9 seconds. Studies estimate subject Argon's weight at near one ton. It is as yet undetermined where the extra mass of subject Argon's centaur form was acquired. After subject Argon was awakened by the collapse of his bed do to his weight, he experienced a few moments of disorientation. However 55.34 seconds after waking, he was able to rise to his feet and successfully move about. Visual records indicate his horse portion being similar to the Clydesdale breed the most obvious difference being that it was white in color. Image enhancement of his horse portion indicate possession of male genitalia, and his human portion is also that of a male. Comparison of before and after photos indicates that subject Argon has become much more muscular. This aspect of the centaur serum had been unknown. Subject Argon's movements and actions indicate that his strength has increased considerably in his human portion. His size however, made movement within the confines of his house difficult. A full description and discussion of theories of subject Argon's form can be found in file (FBI-CHT-A-12)

The political considerations also mentioned above, prevented agents from locating subject Argon through interrogation of Bernie Franklin. At this time, surveillance of subject Argon has been lost, as has the time, money, and manpower used in pursing this course of action. Although subject Mavra is still under surveillance, the loss of the only known possibility of capture of a male of the species and reproduction of more centaur subjects has been lost.

Research is continuing towards finding other subjects with the centaur link. At this date seven subjects, three males and four females have been tentatively located. Decisions as to the progress and future of this project will be made, as more information becomes available

Respectfully submitted,

Carl D. Johnson
Director, Species Development