Argonaut Affair

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The creature slept standing up, its head lowered, the upper half of its complex, jointed spine bowed forward. Its breathing was deep and regular. Technicians had attached sensors to various portions of its body and a robot scanner was completing a slow holographing run of the creature's torso. A civilian veterinarian had been called in to consult with the team of army doctors. The atmosphere inside the lab was one of tense, barely restrained excitement. It was the first time anyone had ever seen a real live centaur.

From the waist up, it was an extremely well-muscled man, naked, with long, thick, manelike white hair-pure, albino white. The centaur's skin had an alabaster sheen and the pupils of its eyes were a deep red. From the waist down, it was a snowy Arabian stallion, only with tufted hoofs, like a Percheron's. Its muscles were taut and sleek, exuding a sense of explosive power. Its equine torso was over eighteen hands high, tall for a horse, but above its animal torso was the upper body of a man, a man who dwarfed the people in the laboratory. The arms were huge, the shoulders broad and powerful. The stomach muscles looked like cobblestones. It was an imposing looking creature, yet the most compelling thing about it was its most human feature-its face. It was the bearded face of an ancient, scored by time, yet free of sagging flesh. The features were lined, but firm and sharp, giving the same impression of great age that an old marble statue might convey.

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