Biotechnology
Sunday, August 2, 8:21 A.M.
"What did you say?" Mewtwo asked, keeping his paws clenched at his sides and his tail still with a supreme effort of will. He wanted- he didn't know what, exactly, he wanted, but it was doubtlessly destructive.
Brenda dodged around several pedestrians, projecting curses and what could only be described as mental claws raking the air. "Huh?" She pointed at a street vender hawking dubious hot dogs and fries. "You want anything from there?"
"No, I want-" to talk to her, but she was already gone, getting in line for food that would kill her ten years down the road.
Then again, maybe it wouldn't. He had yet to meet anyone nearly as active as Brenda. She would probably outlive him, even if he did happen to have Mew's lifespan. He could see the Detective living five centuries, easily.
She jogged back to his side, hot dog in one hand, small bag of fries in the other. It was amazing she didn't choke on the large mouthful she'd taken from the hotdog.
"When you're done stuffing your face, I'd like to talk to you."
Brenda swallowed her mouthful, and nodded at a street-side bench. "We could talk now."
"Somewhere quieter," he admitted. He didn't want to have to dodge teenagers on rollerblades or businessmen on cell phones during a conversation. "Perhaps a park?"
The Detective grunted, attempting to pull a single fry out of her bag, while being unable to use her hands. It was mildly amusing, watching her grab a fry with her teeth, tug slightly, and hiss when several fries shifted and threatened to fall out.
"Bah," she finally said, leaving the fries alone for the meat. "Park, park… Three blocks down there's a kid's playground, that'll do?"
"It should." He could easily ensure their conversation was private, after all. He followed Brenda, deciding he really needed to memorize the city's map the way she seemed to have done. He also managed to more or less calm down, though he wouldn't trust himself not to react if anyone wearing a white lab coat tried to talk to him.
They reached the park without incident, if you didn't count Brenda's reactions to the pedestrians infringing on her space, and found the only park bench without bird droppings on the seat or back.
"So, what'd you want to talk about?" Brenda asked, finally able to start eating her fries.
"I want to know what you said."
"Huh?"
Mewtwo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "To the body. I want to know what you said to the body."
"You didn't hear?" she asked, sounding oddly pleased.
"No, I didn't. Will you tell me?"
"If I say no, what'll you do?"
"Well, I could read your mind-"
"And I can shoot you if you try-"
"But as that would be rude, I'll refrain."
"… Good enough." Brenda crumpled up the fries bag, and tossed it at the playground's garbage can. It was a good eight feet away from her seat, but she managed to get it in. "Always was good at athletics."
"Detective…"
"You really want to know?"
Mewtwo nodded. He hadn't been that curious when he'd first asked, but now, well… She was trying to avoid answering. "I won't mind if you don't tell me," he lied.
Brenda snorted. "I said… It's one of the only Islander phrases I know. It's not my proper language- I'm supposed to speak Morin, everything I know is in Shamun."
She correctly interpreted his baffled look, and elaborated. "There are at least a hundred islands in the Orange Archipelago. And almost every Island has its own dialect- generally it's just a case of accent and slang, but someone from the South-Western Islands wouldn't be able to talk to the North-Eastern. You know what people here call 'China'? That's Mikan Island- they wouldn't be able to talk to a Moro native, like I am, or a Trovitan, or anyone from the South-West, because they're from too far north."
Mewtwo blinked. "So instead of Chinese food it should Mikanese food? I'll remember that."
"Please, do. So, anyways, Shamun is from Shamouti Island area, which is in the center of the region." Brenda gestured with her hands, managing to suggest a bowl or a whirlpool, and then shrugged. "Shamun is enough like Morin, but none of the slang's the same, and a Shamun would have to talk very slowly to be understood by the Morin."
"Alright, thank you for the lecture, but what did you say?" It was a pity he only had three fingers. It would have been very satisfying to drum them against his knee. It would have also made a non-verbal point.
Brenda looked away, and started rubbing her hands against her jeans. It took a moment for Mewtwo to notice that her cheeks had gotten darker, but when he did, it was all he could do not to grin. The indomitable Detective was blushing.
"Ah, roughly translated, it was a wish for- for her to find comfort in the arms of Morana, and for Adilet and Ashtad to insure punishment for her killer."
Mewtwo blinked at the three unfamiliar names, and then connected the dots. "Morana is the god of death, then?"
"Technically, she's the Goddess of the souls of the dead. Athanasius-" She pronounced the word slowly, 'ath-eh-nay-shes', so he couldn't possibly make a mistake if he had to say the name at a later date. "-is the one who gathers the souls to her. Adilet and Ashtad are the Twins of Justice."
Mewtwo nodded, and then peered at the Detective. "I never took you for religious."
"Well. Now you know." She stood up and brushed at the seat of her jeans. "We going to get back to work or what?"
"Mm." Mewtwo stood up as well, and tilted his head. "Where did you find all this out, anyways?"
"When I was younger, I was really interested, joined a Temple and everything. If I actually had bookshelves they'd cover one wall of the living room. Almost failed one whole year of school because I was so busy looking up Islander history and stuff. Then I ran into that bastard and couldn't go to Temple anymore and besides, Sheryl and Leon didn't live close enough for me to walk."
August 2, 8:45 A.M.
"Well, missing persons was a bust," Brenda grumbled. She perched on a corner of Mewtwo's desk- earning a glare, but she was ignoring him in favor of her rant. "No one's called in a missing girl of this description. Come on! She's freaking twelve years old, right? Someone's got to be looking for her."
"Someone who doesn't want police attention?" Mewtwo suggested, giving a few not-so-subtle pokes with a pencil. Brenda swatted at his hand, and got off his desk.
"Probably. Especially with what Hades told us." Jabbered, actually. It was mind boggling that actual people actually talked like that. She glared down at Mewtwo, who glared right back. "How're we supposed to find the bastards if they're avoiding us, huh?"
"I thought you were the senior cop, shouldn't you know?"
She rolled her eyes, and sighed. "Okay, look up genetic manipulation shit, find out who's researching it, who's for it and who's against it, any laws about it- the whole cartload. We'll start there."
Mewtwo nodded, and Brenda drifted over to her desk. She had a few things to clear up on some old cases and anyways, he was better at research then she was.
Most of what she had to do was for the paper pushers. Days she was available for court, days she wasn't, a confirmation of what she'd say on the stand, no surprises. She paused over one odd piece of paper, skimmed it, and then rolled her eyes. Someone needed her confirmation for something- medal, she thought. The phrases screamed medal. Though what she'd done lately to deserve one, she didn't know… Maybe Mewtwo, after all, he'd helped with that Team Rocket thing.
She scrawled her name on the dotted line and set it on top of her computer monitor, for one of the interns to grab. Then she went back to her paperwork, until her hand cramped and her sore back muscles proclaimed it break time.
"Smith," she barked. "You got anything for me, yet?"
"Several things, Detective," Mewtwo said. His voice was tight, a reminder of the temper he had. Brenda arched her eyebrows, and stood up.
"Print it out, we'll take it to a conference room then." She rolled her shoulders and was rewarded with her spine popping and cracking. It hurt, but in a good way, and in no time she and Mewtwo were holed up in the smallest of the conference rooms, papers strewn over the table.
Mewtwo, fortunately, was wielding the highlighter. He didn't even have to hold it.
Brenda grabbed one of the papers, and squinted at the print. It wasn't that the print was small, but when it was filled with phrases like 'restriction fragment length polymorphism' her mind started to boggle. She even thought she'd seen it before, but damned if she knew what it meant!
Mewtwo took the paper back, and frowned at her. She scowled back. "What the hell is that?" she said, gesturing at the paper. "Restriction fragmentary length polymorphic whatever?"
"It's a comparison test, police scientists use it often. It's used to see if there's a DNA sample in the departmental files. You might have heard about rifflips?"
"Oh. Those things." Brenda leaned back in her chair. "I hate scientists."
Mewtwo shuffled the paper back into one of the piles. "Don't we all," he muttered, then looked up at her. "What do you know about cloning?"
"Uh…" Brenda closed her eyes and ducked her chin. "Give me a moment. Saw a show on the Discovery Channel about it, I think. You take a part of a cell, and stick it in an egg, and when the egg hatches you've got something exactly like whatever you used as the source material of the cell. I think."
Mewtwo massaged his forehead, and, she thought, groaned. "You have it somewhat mixed up. For one thing, mammals don't lay eggs. There are egg cells, but they don't hatch."
"Is this going to turn into a lecture? And will I need to take notes?"
"Probably, and I doubt it. May I continue?"
"Sure."
"Good. Now, to clone a creature, you take the egg cell, remove the DNA inside it, and insert the DNA from the source material. The egg is then tricked into thinking it has been fertilized- I don't have to explain that? No? Good- and starts the process of becoming a new creature, genetically identical to the source."
"The source which isn't the one doing the, uh, stomach thing," Brenda said, gesturing at her own abdomen.
"Right," Mewtwo said, sounding amused. She attempted to kick him under the table, but he was out of her reach. "Generally, clones can be likened to identical twins. It also happens in nature- many plants, for instance, clone themselves, and bacteria reproduce by cloning."
"Okay, great over view. Now, summarize what you've gotten for me?" She gestured at the papers, and lifted her eyebrows.
The look Mewtwo gave the papers had to be one he'd picked up from her. Without saying a word, he managed to convey that what he was looking at was lower then slime and should be turned into a fine ash at the earliest opportunity. "I have killed several trees for information on how to alter a clone's DNA-" There was no way she could have imagined him growling, he was baring his teeth the slightest bit, and his tail was twitching. "-simply, cutting out the genes that are unwanted, and 'pasting' the ones you want in the gap."
"Sounds risky. Another reason to hate scientists, then."
"The rest is simply more details on cloning, how it is done- nothing you need to know just now. If it is required, I'll have this in my desk."
"Thanks." Brenda narrowed her eyes as most of the papers were shuffled up and set aside in one pile. "The rest of the papers?"
"People and companies involved in cloning in some form or other. The two major companies- Silph Co. and a biotechnology company, Helix- are the major investors in it, currently. The rest- chemists and physiologists, geneticists- are either working for differing branches of Silph and Helix, or are independent workers studying natural clones."
"Also known as identical twins, plants, and germs," Brenda said, and nodded. "We'll give the independent ones a look, but something feels wrong about them."
"Cloning requires a great deal of money, Detective." Something dark flickered in Mewtwo's eyes; Brenda found herself staring at him, unable to move. "Independent researchers are unlikely to have the necessary funds for all the equipment."
"But you need groups for this sort of thing."
"Yes." The darkness was clearer now, clouding the purple of Mewtwo's eyes, turning them almost black. Brenda tensed and clenched her fists. "Shall we get started?"
"Ah, sure. I want you to look up the individuals first, see if any of them have any connections to anyone else- if they do, poke a little, do your best to see what their finances are like." She frowned. "Scientists write research papers, don't they? See what they've written on cloning, if it applies to making kids stronger or whatever."
Mewtwo nodded, and fished three papers out of the small pile. "There is one scientist, a Dr. Fuji, who wrote a paper even you should understand."
Brenda took the papers, and scanned the opening paragraph. Complicated, but if she read it slow, she could probably understand most of it. "Look hardest at this guy," she said.
"I would." Mewtwo's voice made her look up; it was dark, angry and hinting at forbidden things. "Except that he's dead."
"Oh." She looked down at her papers. "So this is only for my education?"
"Yes."
"Okay then. I guess I'd better get started. So should you."
Sunday, August 2, 12:30 P.M.
Brenda rubbed one hand over her face, and headed for the coffee pot. Despite implying that she would be dumping the entire load on Mewtwo, she'd taken her fair share of scientists to investigate. She'd managed to toss about half of her group out the window- scientists were a small, complex group, but most of them only knew each other through conventions. A few had closer connections, and she'd put those names aside to be looked at with an eye to conspiracies.
The coffee pot was half full of questionable, halfway solid, sludge. She shrugged and poured herself a mug, and took a sip. The sludge was strong enough that it raised the hairs on the back of her arms, and her mouth puckered. She swallowed it down through force of will alone, and gagged. It was good enough to keep her going until the end of shift.
In a gesture of good will, she fiddled with the coffee machine, remembering to empty the grind basket into the garbage can, put in a new filter, and pour in fresh grinds. She made sure the coffee pot was centered under the spout, and pressed the 'brew' button.
Only then did she realized there was still sludge in the pot. After a moment's thought, she shrugged. The addition of fresh coffee would only improve the taste, and texture.
She picked up her mug, and started for her desk. She glanced over at Mewtwo, frowning at the way he was hunched over the computer. He'd get a sore back if he kept that up. Then, when the entire bullpen hissed and started muttering, she looked over at the hallway.
The man was a cop, no mistaking that, but no proper cop would let himself be seen dressed like that. Most cops, in Brenda's experience, were either in uniform, or were plainclothes like she was, and able to choose their own 'uniform' for the job. The cop striding across the bullpen was dressed in a conservative suit in a cut normally saved for lawyer types.
Internal Affairs Bureau, also known as the Rat Squad. They investigated their fellow cops, they worked out of the Tower, and IAB was where psychic cops were sent to work. The man was heading towards her- or he was heading towards Mewtwo. That would never do.
Brenda glanced at her fellow cops, and clenched her teeth. No help there; most cops avoided the Rat Squad like the Kiss of Death. She squared her shoulders, and walked towards the IAB cop, a sneer fixed to her lips like the shield it was.
"What do you want?" she snarled. "Can't you see we're trying to work here?"
"Detective Johnson?" The man half smiled when she nodded. "I'm just here to remind you that you have an appointment in two days, for Testing. Please report to the seventh floor of the Tower at nine-thirty, Tuesday."
Brenda took a deep breath, then let it out. "Fine. I'll be there." She ignored the looks of sympathy her fellow cops were giving her, just continued to glare at the IAB minion of doom.
"Detective? What was that about?"
"None of your business," she snapped, and got back to work.
End Notes
So, at seven pages this still managed to end up being shorter then the first chapter, which was somewhere around 5,000 words, and this one being only 3,000 or so. Then again, lots more dialogue in this chapter, so I guess it ended up looking longer. Either way.
Look out for more details on clones, cloning, and the effect reading about that sort of thing is having on our favorite clone next chapter. Either that or Brenda'll try to kill an IAB shrink, whichever happens first.