The journal of Doctor Catherine Faller, entry # 20:
There is a kind of Anomaly I've only heard of. They look completely human most of the time, though some Hunters say that sometimes, you can see a grey aura around them, making them look dull and (a commonly used word) "artificial." They tend to be stronger and faster than normal people, but are otherwise normal. Someone once killed one and performed an autopsy. It turns out that they have machinery where their inner organs should be, and silicon chips embedded in their brain tissue.
The antithesis of the lycanthropes. Not animals passing for humans, ruled by feral wrath. Machines passing for humans, ruled by computer logic.
Damn, how I envy them. Sometimes I think I'd give anything to never have to feel anything ever again.
---
Mac Brown was old and he had never been handsome. He was a chubby little black man with thinning white hair, and when he smiled he showed two rows of bad teeth. It was a friendly smile, though, and he carried himself with a lot of vitality for a man his age. His clothes were worn, but every rip and tear had been carefully repaired.
"It's very kind of you to buy me dinner, Doctor Faller," he said. He took a bun off the tray of complimentary bread and started making himself a sandwich with careful motions. His hands trembled a bit. "My pension rarely allows me the pleasure of a restaurant as nice as this one."
"I'm a kind person," Catherine said while mentally balancing the cost of feeding this old buzzard with the potential rewards of making friends.
The thing was this – things out of legend and nightmare walked among mankind, abusing them in a thousand different ways with people being none the wiser. These Anomalies had managed to get discredited every attempt to explore the scientific foundations of their existence, so as to keep humanity ignorant and defenceless. Lately, though, some unknown agency had awakened certain people to the truth, turning them into Hunters – the champions of the hapless human race. Catherine was one. Mac, who she had found a few days ago, was another.
To Catherine, any Hunter's sensible course of action seemed perfectly clear. Humanity could adapt to anything, even the existence of Anomalies, if it could turn the scrutiny of its science on it. Therefore, if Hunters managed to expose the truth in a way that made everyone believe them, everything would turn out just fine. That was, thus, what they ought to do. Right?
According to most Hunters Catherine had met, wrong. Most of them thought that alerting the world would be impossible (and that made it different from killing every Anomaly in turn how, exactly?). Some said that if this wasn't handled delicately, it'd lead to a witch hunt and the death of countless innocents (hadn't they ever heard of omelettes and eggs?). One had even told Catherine that humanity deserved to be kept in the dark and spared the nightmarish truth that Hunters had to endure (Catherine could have killed the self-pitying bitch right there and then!).
Catherine needed friends, allies, helpers in her chosen quest to save the world. And she had absolutely no talent or skill in getting them. Buying talkative old men dinner was a start, though.
"So how long has it been?" Mac said conversationally. "Since you first Saw?" He started chewing on his sandwich slowly and carefully.
"I've been a Hunter for a month or so," Catherine said. "Saw. Is that what you call it?"
"That's what it is, Doctor Faller," Mac said. "I have never believed in making something more complicated than it has to be. I have a friend, one of us, who talks about being the champions of God and so forth. Pish-tosh. We are people who See. Isn't that enough? I was a journalist – I spent my entire career seeing what was there and telling others. It's important that things are seen."
"And told?" Catherine said hopefully.
"Well." Mac smiled. "As long as you can prove that you're telling the truth."
"I'm going to find proof enough," Catherine said, deciding that a bit of boldness would go down well here. It did, after a fashion, but it didn't rouse the response she had been hoping for. Mac just nodded.
"I wish you luck."
"I could use some help," Catherine prodded.
Mac chuckled.
"My, you are very forward, aren't you, Doctor Faller?"
"It's my thing. So is research, in a lab. Not field work, though. You'd be better for that."
"Perhaps," Mac said. He sighed. "But I'm rather too old and tired to come out of retirement now. No, I think that from me, you will have to settle for one more person who knows you are not insane. One more person who has Seen." He smiled. "One more person you do not need to convince, isn't that enough?"
"Come on." Catherine scowled. People were so damn tricky. Chemicals either mixed the right way or they didn't. They didn't need to be talked into it, and they never said that sure, they could mix, but they just didn't feel like it today. "None of us is exactly suited for this – heck, I don't think anyone could be suited for it. The world needs us. All of us."
"The world had thirty years to ask for me to help it while I was young and capable," Mac said. "And while I had more of a stake in it. Most of the things I've wanted to do, I've already done. Most of the people and things I cared about are already gone. I don't have much use for the world anymore. Why should I save it?"
"You're not dead yet," Catherine said sharply. "This is still your world, and the Anomalies are violating it. Isn't there anything you want to change? Isn't there anything you care about?"
For the first time, Mac hesitated.
"There is!" Catherine said. She pointed accusingly over the table. "You're not as happy with the way things are as you try to sound! There's something seriously wrong, even for you!"
Mac sighed, his expression one of strained patience.
"You are really very forward. You're right, there is something, but it's personal. May I ask that you don't inquire further about it?"
"I might be able to help," Catherine said. "Ever think of that? I'm pretty damn resourceful, you know."
"I seriously doubt it."
"Only one way to find out."
Mac looked away sadly.
"Such a pity," he said. "A fine dinner on the way, and I have lost my appetite. It seems one should beware of forward young women bearing gifts."
"But you will tell me." Catherine didn't read people very well, but she recognised the tone of resignation.
"I suppose so. I never was very good at saying no." He looked thoughtful. "That's really the problem, I suppose. None of this would have happened if I had been better at saying no."
"How's that?" Catherine said.
Mac smiled faintly.
"You're a young woman, Doctor Faller. Do you have any regrets about your life so far?"
"I've got a hundred," Catherine said.
"I'm sorry to hear that," Mac said. "I only have two. That's pretty good, wouldn't you say? I'm seventy-six years old, I've been all over the world, I've seen and done everything I've ever wanted, and I only have two regrets. You'd think that would be pretty mild, wouldn't you? You'd think it would mean that I didn't do such a bad job at living." He sighed.
Catherine grimaced. She wasn't interested in other people's self-pity, especially not people who was either more forgiving of themselves than her, or else had more of an impulse control capability than she had. If she could get through a day without assembling another regret, she considered it a pretty good day.
"So what did you do?" she said. "That you think you shouldn't have?"
"Firstly," Mac said, "I let my wife talk me into having a daughter. Secondly, having done so, I was exactly as bad a father as I thought I would be."
"That's your big regret?" Catherine snorted. "Almost everyone has kids, and quite a few of them turn out to be lousy parents. I haven't heard a lot of them admit it, though. Mostly, they just assume there must be something wrong with their kids, since they didn't turn into perfect little copies of them."
"You're a cynic."
"No, I just loathe the way people convince themselves that there's one perfect way to live your life, and then feel sorry for themselves when it doesn't work out for them. Real life is full of tough choices."
Mac gave her an amused, thoughtful stare.
"What?" Catherine snapped.
"Or do you just like to tell yourself that the choices were tough," he said, "so that you won't feel as bad about making the wrong ones?"
Catherine's pale cheeks reddened. Mac just laughed.
"There's two ways of looking at everything, Doctor Faller!" he said. "Don't be so quick about judging me. This is another thing I mean about Seeing. It's hard enough to see what is there without having to impose some sort of moral evaluation on it, too." He glanced at an approaching waiter. "Oh look, here's our food."
"Just tell me what this is all about and be done with it," Catherine said as their plates were placed before them. "You never should have had a daughter…?"