He liked to sketch.
It wasn't like he was any kind of artist, God knows. It was just that he liked to draw lines and measurements, sketching out a new extension to his mother's house, or doodling an improved gene sequencer. It was a way to pass the time during a boring meeting, as well as a way to develop new ideas.
Sketching was fun.
Somewhere along the way he had developed the knack of being able to sketch an almost completely round circle free-hand, which surprised the hell of out just about every artist he showed it to. Unlike them he had drawn dozens, perhaps hundreds of circles everyday in the classes he taught when he was a professor. It was a good way to pass time as well as a neat party trick.
Right now Toudou Hiroshi was doodling, while listening to the others shift nervously, papers rustling. There were over fifty people in designed for less then half that number, but no one seemed to mind. The seats surrounding the table were packed, with more scientists lining the walls. They spoke quietly to each other, but under the murmur was a sense of excitement, even if most of them didn't know why they had been called here today, they still sensed that something import was about to occur.
All eyes turned to the door as it swung open, and the room was suddenly filled with expectant silence. The newcomers were known by all the waiting scientists. In the lead were Dr. Monay, a biochemist from Mexico, and the current Director of SOLOMON's Genetic Research Team. Following him was Father Koushon, the liaison between the team and the rest of SOLOMON.
Out of the corner of his eye Toudou saw Zaizen lean back in his chair and smile. They had met at the Tokyo Institute of Technology where Toudou was an Assistant Professor. SOLOMON had sent Zaizen to the Institution in order to learn how to manage a team of scientists, grooming him for the role that he would assume today. They had become friends, and Zaizen lured him away from the University by offering him a position with FZ Genetics, which in reality turned out to be the SOLOMON Research team..
Before working with SOLOMON Toudou had never heard of Witches, the only exposure he had to such powers was at the movies, or in fantasy books. Never did he think that they could be real. At first he was skeptical, but after a demonstration by one of SOLOMON's Craft Users, a Hunter that had been stationed in Japan, he was convinced. After viewing the damage left by a Witch after a Hunt, he was more then that, he was fascinated. To think that a human brain was actually capable of effecting the world in such a way, that it could handle powers and do things that usually required specialized tools, was amazing. He couldn't argue that such powers could be dangerous, after being introduced to the world of SOLOMON, of Witches, SEEDs and Craft-Users, he could see all the problems associated with such power.
That didn't stop him from admiring those who could use such powers.
The Director stood at the podium, his subordinates flanking him. He fiddled with a control on the podium, and behind him a white screen lowered itself and the room lights dimmed. The projector in the middle of the table powered up, and SOLOMON's Research Division Logo appeared on the screen.
"There is no need for introductions, I think most of you know each other and myself," the Director began in that disarming manner of his. There was a general chuckle, and the Director smiled and waited patiently for it to die down again. Toudou could feel a general relaxation in the atmosphere of the room, which was surely Dr. Monay's intention.
"All of you by now have been introduced to the powers of Witches and Craft-Users," he continued, "and have some idea as to our, SOLOMON's, intentions concerning them." The scientist glanced uneasily at each other. While all of them had seen the damage that an uncontrolled Witch caused, many still felt uncomfortable with SOLOMON's methods of dealing with them. In the weeks leading up the this conference Toudou had a chance to talk to most of them, and at one point or another they had all brought up the Holocaust, and the medical experiments that the Nazis had performed on living human beings. It was clear that while they understood the danger Witches posed, they were also worried about the ethical considerations of killing vast numbers of people.
"As you know, historically the only way to deal with a Witch was to kill him or her. In the past this was sometimes taken too far, resulting in the deaths of hundreds of thousands, if not millions if innocent lives." The screen flicked and the logo changed to show wood cuttings of 'witches' being hanged, drowned, or burned at the stake. "It is estimated that during the height of the Medieval witch-hunts only one in a hundred of those killed for witch craft were truly Witches or SEEDs."
"Public outrage, and the arrival of the Enlightenment finally stopped the majority of the Hunts, and all of the false ones. Unfortunately Witches were now free to prey on humans with little retaliation. In order to combat the growing threat SOLOMON was formed by the a coalition of governments, headed by the Catholic Church." Toudou suspected that the Director was glossing over a few things, mainly why SOLOMON wanted to destroy all the Witches, not just control them. According to SOLOMON Witches originated when the 'Sons of God', fallen angels for the most part, mated with human women, creating a race of giants. The descendants of these giants supposedly had the powers of God illicitly, powers that no human should have. Most of the scientists in the room would have no truck with such superstition, he knew, the vast majority of geneticists and biologists firmly believed in the reality of evolution. If they believed in God at all they typically took a more agnostic view of Him. Talk of 'angels' and 'Sons of God' meant little to them.
The wood cuts changed and now they were looking at images of the Geneva Convention on Human Rights and the UN Peacekeeping Forces in Serbia. "Times are changing. Most the modern world does not accept the necessity of capitol punishment. If SOLOMON wishes to modernize then it must take advantage of this new world. To that end we are setting in motion several programs." He gestured to Toudou, "The first, and most important, is to study the Witch's genetic structure, to determine how to identify Witches and SEEDS, as well as those humans who carry their genes."
"Then," and now he turned to Zaizen and nodded, "using that information we will start investigating the Witches themselves, probing their powers, and identifying ways to neutralize them safely, without killing." There was a surprised murmur from the watching scientists. This was new to SOLOMON, from what Toudou understood, and new to the world. He felt a surge of adrenaline, to think the he would be one of the lead researchers on this project!
This was the best day of his life.
"Think we can do it?"
It was later that night, and the adrenaline had finally worn off, and now the fear was beginning to sink in. Not fear for his survival, or fear of what he was going to do, but rather fear of failure. Of screwing up and destroying his reputation and becoming just another pill-pusher for a company looking for a new way to lower blood pressure, or cure the common cold. It had been his goal for as long as he could remember to do something really important. He didn't want to be a household name, if had wanted fame he would have become an actor or singer, no, he wanted to make such a lasting impression on the world that a thousand years from now his contributions would still be important.
The Witch Genome Project seemed to be that contribution, but it was equally likely that he could fail, and nothing of his would live on to enhance the world. It was a risk he had to take.
Zaizen smiled slightly and pulled out one of his cigars, lighting it. He took a moment before answering, sucking a lungful of smoke and letting it out to the Rome night air. Toudou frowned slightly, his friend knew that eh didn't like him smoking around him, but did it anyways.
"Yes, I think we can." Zaizen answered, and that was all. They turned another corner, and found the pub that they had been going to almost every night since their arrival in Rome. I was dark and musty, and there wasn't anything really attractive about it, other then the fact that no one would even think to look for one of SOLOMON's best ex-hunters who was now in the fast track for some kind of important administrative position within that organization, and one of said organization's top scientists. It wasn't that they were trying to hide anything, really, it was just that they didn't want to talk business, unless they were the ones doing it. Had they gone to one of the better pubs in town they might have run into one of their colleagues.
"I have to think so," Zaizen finally replied. "If we can sequence the genome in time, before the rest of the world is able to do so we would have a tremendous advantage."
"Hah." It was a more a puff of air then a laugh. The truth was that SOLOMON wasn't the only organization in the world that knew about Witches, or attempted to use them to their advantage. There were governments that likely were doing their own research, even if they're supposed to be let SOLOMON handle all Craft-related. He didn't know all the details, of course, but he was aware of some of the other research that was going on in the rest of the world. Mostly it was by those who knew nothing about Witches and Craft Users. His competitors were researchers surveying the human genome, looking for clues to diseases and the keys to human evolution, nothing more.
A few of them, however…
Well, that was the job of SOLOMON's spies, not his.
They entered their favorite pub and took their usual seats by the bar. The barman smiled, and the local working girls flirted, although they knew by now that neither man was interested in them. Zaizen ordered, and said he was paying that night. They joked and chatted about this and that, and when it got quiet that was when Toudou brought out his doodles. These didn't mean anything, really, they were simply a memory aid from the meeting, and of his dreams. Sections of DNA appeared and disappeared through-out the notebook. No human could ever hope to draw the human genome, after all, but that didn't keep him from trying.
Zaizen sat up at the sight of the notebook, he knew what was in it, of course, and he also knew what it meant when Toudou pulled it out in the tavern. It meant that he had an interesting idea. Toudou gestured to the barman and ordered another round while his friend tapped the ash off the cigar and took another huff on it. He found himself smiling a bit at Zaizen's faintly quizzical expression.
"The genes of angels, fallen but still angels, are what makes a Witch a Witch." He said slowly, idly doodling in the blank face of a ghostly woman. He wasn't usually good with faces, but this one seemed to burn itself into his mind.
Zaizen nodded. So far Toudou had said nothing that he didn't already know.
"And if Witches are simply un-controlled and un-Saved Craft-Users, that means that ordinary Craft-Users, such as the ones that SOLOMON employs as Hunters, also have the angel genes." Now her body was partly formed, something made him stop before he could complete the body. Instead he turned to the background and began filling it in with DNA, both the actual sequences and the double helix. What a perfect design. Truly DNA was a thing of beauty more fantastic then the greatest masterpiece of artistry and engineering that humanity was capable of. There was nothing that could match it.
"And?" Zaizen said, breaking his contemplation of the glamour of the double helix. He shrugged.
"And they have the same genes Witches do. If we were to get enough samples of DNA from Craft-Users as well as normal human beings we would be able to find out just what those genetic differences are. Perhaps Witches have special genes? Or do they have a different chromsome count? That is something that only scientific inquiry discover."
"Huh." Zaizen leaned back and took another puff of his cigar, before carefully grinding it out on the table. His eyes narrowed into slits, and Toudou watched him gaze into nothing. "Are Witches a different species?" he asked.
"I think that's always been assumed, but assumptions should never be made in science."
There was a lull in the conversation, and the sound of a football team on TV that everyone else in the room seemed to be watching indicated that the crowd favorite was not doing that great. Toudou eyed Zaizen and wondered just what the other man was thinking.
Somewhere just outside the city and nightingale sang.
Searching, searching, always searching. The forest she was in was dark and cold, and strangely empty. Didn't birds and small animals live in forests? Here, there was nothing. A desert would have been livelier.
She drifted, an invisible presence in the silent forest. Searching for something that she still, after all these years, could not identify. There was something not there, whose absence was contacted to the silence of the forest. Not even the whisper wind stirred the silence. Still, there was something there. Something whose very presence pulled her in one direction. Maria paused, trying to pierce the silence. Nothing, just the ever-present pull of something not quite right. She decided to follow it.
The forest shifted and changed, and somewhere along the way a fog manifested itself. The forest was no longer empty. Half-seen ghostly shapes and what could have been far-off plaintive cries made themselves know to the edge of her senses. However hard she tried, she could not get them to focus into something more then a wraith.
Then the fog and forest was gone, and before her stood her father, and several of his assistants. They faced away from her, watching a distant building. "Father?" she tried to say.
It was then she realized that she was as silent as the forest. Nor could she touch him when she reached out her hand.
Her hand fell to her side, and she found her gaze pulled to the building. There was something inside it, that thing that she had been searching for. Maria stepped forward, or tried to, but found that her feet were now rooted in place. She wanted whatever was there, and now with her goal in sight she couldn't move. She jerked in anger and frustration, but no matter how she tried she could not move.
There was a sound, an odd whimper from and old man's throat, and before Maria's horrified eyes the building collapsed in on itself. She moaned, and reached out toward it, and then the world shifted. Confused, she looked around, there was no trace of her father or the building to be found. Here was no forest, no hill, instead she stood on an empty plain as flat and as clear as glass.
"He tried to kill her."
Maria spun around. Behind her was Katrina, the Witch she had just Hunted. Glittering tears ran down the woman's face, but her expression was peaceful.
"He tried to kill her, and he tried to kill her, but they both failed. She would not let them. They loved her too well."
Maria's crinkled her brow. "Do you mean Marcus, and that woman, Anna-Marie?" It turned out to the wrong question to ask.
"No," that last was more a whimper then a word. "No. He killed her, that Marcus, he was evil! He deserved death." Katrina's calm expression shatter, and was replaced by the insane rage that Maria had seen before. "No! She cannot be dead! Not her, not my friend! Not sweet Anna!"
The air of that place was no longer still, but instead seemed to be filled with the power of that enraged spirit. The wind blew giant gusts of air, battering against the Hunter. The dead woman's dress was whipped into a frenzy as the power poured from it's mistress. Hate and rage, and what looked like pure insanity scrawled itself across her face and into the world. Maria felt herself being blown backwards across the glassy surface of the plain. She fell to her knees and clawed at the ground, trying futily to dig her nails into the impenetrable surface. She pounded her fists into it, and suddenly the glass fractured, and she fell into the void…
Maria started awake, and for one long panicked moment couldn't remember where she was or what she had been doing. She sat up, her pulse pounding painfully in her head, joints and ligaments screaming with agony, while the room momentarily spun around her. Shaking off the edges of the quickly fading dream Maria stood up and staggered to the body of the Witch. A quick check was all it took to reveal that the woman was dead, Maria's final bullet had shattered her skull, leaving the Witch's brains splattered on the wall behind her. Nauseated, the Hunter turned away.
The Witch's voice still seemed to float in the air. Was that fair? This whole mess was started by one cruel man, a man who had been as deadly as any Witch, but without any superhuman powers. The murder of her friend unhinged her. Maria wondered what she would do if that ever happed to her. That didn't justify using unholy powers against a human, but it did make it more understandable.
Joints clicking and creaking she managed to pull herself fully upright. The pain nearly caused her to black out again. She hadn't used her powers in battle and it shouldn't be this bad. The disease must be progressing.
In the end her mother had to retire fully from her duties just months before she died. Any use of the Craft, even minor demonstrations while training Hunters triggered another painful attack. Well, Maria always knew this disease would kill her as it did Mother. Sooner or later she would die, and she had decided long ago that she would be better to die in God's service then to live as a bedridden invalid. She would be a Hunter even if it shortened her life.
That was the reason her father didn't want her to be a Hunter, even as he glowed with pride over her decision to follow her parents footsteps.
The wall behind the Witch held two new holes created by the two bullets that had missed. She cursed her aim, even if handguns weren't really all that accurate she still should have been able to hit the Witch at such a close distance. Perhaps she needed to visit the firing range again. Tiredly she pulled out her cell phone to call Headquarters and request a cleanup team. While some Hunters, such as Sastre, sneered at them, Maria knew that for her they were a necessity, especially now when she could barely move, let alone drive home. Just her luck, her first Hunt in months and she was going to be bedridden for at least a couple of days because of it. If this kept up then Headquarters would really retire her on Medical, against her will.
After she hung up Maria sat down as joints gave way to the demands of her body, and she found herself staring at the dead woman. For some reason her dream came back to her, "They couldn't kill her, she wouldn't let them." As the building fell, or was that after? Did it matter? "They loved her too well…"
Who were "she" and "they?" What did that have to do with her dreams?
Unnoticed by the Hunter a catwatched her from on top of the display cabinate,blinking cat-green eyes.
