KICKING OVER AN ANTHILL

CHAPTER 2:

ALEXIA ASHFORD

If there was one thing Harry Potter was grateful for, even as he nearly vomited his breakfast from the Portkey, it was that he wasn't travelling to this place by plane. Antarctica was inhospitable and dangerous enough already. Travelling there through mundane means had many issues, between the sub-zero temperatures and the mercurial weather.

Yet he had so many questions. But both his mother and Veronica had been somewhat coy. Then again, it was ironic. Lily (and himself) had often railed against nepotism within the wizarding world, so he found the irony that she (albeit through Veronica) had found him work at Umbrella, one of the biggest pharmaceutical corporations in the world, bitterly appealing.

He wouldn't say no to the work. True, the money of the Potter family meant that they could live very comfortably off it and not need to work ever again. But neither his parents or himself liked to rest on their laurels.

In the end, in hindsight…maybe becoming an Auror in the DMLE like his father wasn't his go. Part of the problem was that there were too many rules for his liking. He didn't know how James or Sirius could stand it. The notorious Marauders, acting like good little vanguards of law and order.

The problem was with being an Auror, or indeed any kind of police officer, was that the difference between justice and the law was too often a wide gap. They were not synonymous. Otherwise, why would Dumbledore have felt the need to form his vigilante group, the Order of the Phoenix, during the last uprising of Voldemort? Why else would Lucius Malfoy and his ilk get out of being sent to Azkaban by claiming to be under the Imperius?

True, he wasn't sure what he could do, being the personal assistant to a bedridden scientist. The fact that she said she needed him as an anchor to reality was ominous for some reason. Veronica had made occasional remarks that made him worry about her morality. But she was friendly enough, even if she was posh and even haughty in a way many Purebloods aspired to be.

Speaking of posh, he looked around the mansion atrium he was in. Supposedly, Alexander Ashford modelled it on the Spencer Mansion in the Arklay Forest region near Raccoon City in the US. Not entirely, not by a long shot, what with the limited space in this underground Antarctic facility, but it was apparently very luxurious. The Ashfords loved their creature comforts. They even had a mansion on their seat at Rockfort Island. That was where his mother currently was, apparently fixing things up.

Up the stairs, on a landing sitting between the ground floor and the first floor, was a painting. A man he recognised as Alexander Ashford, seated, flanked by two children, a boy and a girl, but who appeared to be twins regardless. He walked up and examined the painting. The children had to be Alexander's deceased offspring, Alfred and Alexia.

Lily had been hired to act as their tutor on a part-time basis, with a large hiatus during the time the Potters had to go into hiding from Voldemort. Lily didn't think much of Alfred, considering him a 'cut-price Malfoy' who had above-average intelligence. However, Alexia was another matter. Lily had called Alexia a genius, albeit a damaged one, someone who could easily have become a monster. But Lily believed that she wasn't.

Not that it stopped the twins from dying in a lab accident.

He frowned as he peered at the painting. There were three indentations he noticed, right where items of jewellery were meant to be, he guessed. He could even see mechanisms in said indentations.

"What the hell is going on here?" he murmured softly to himself. He wasn't expecting a response. But he heard a faint crackle of a loudspeaker turning on before he got just that.

"Unfortunately, Alexander Ashford caught the same disease from Lord Spencer. Namely, a fetish for puzzle locks like something out of a fantasy novel or spy thriller. I know for a fact that the Spencer Mansion is riddled with all kinds of puzzle locks. Most vexing, especially when someone hides them in a fit of either impishness or else paranoia."

Harry all but leapt into the air at the sound of Veronica Lazarus' voice coming from the loudspeakers, swearing loudly. Eventually, his eyes settled on a nearby CCTV camera currently pointing at him. "Bloody hell, don't do that, Veronica!"

"I would've thought that the son of a notorious prankster would appreciate a good prank," Veronica retorted with a cheerful tone. "My apologies. I've been watching you since your arrival. Being a voyeur is all I can do in my current state. Just so you know, you need three pieces of jewellery to enter that room, which was once Alexander Ashford's private laboratory."

"Merlin…so, basically, Umbrella is a James Bond villain company with puzzles out of Indiana Jones or something? Who does shit like that?"

Veronica chuckled ruefully. "Actually, you're closer to the mark than you intended with that remark." Then, her tone became solemn. "I'm telling you this because this is the point where there should be no more secrets, between us, anyway. Your mother knows this, and she is working with me to change Umbrella for the better. But over the past few months, I believe I have reason to call you a friend. So, tell me…how would you like me to change the world for the better?"

Harry found himself on guard, especially at her oblique confirmation of Umbrella being a James Bond villain company. "It depends on how you're doing it," he said cagily.

"Good. In business and in science, one has to present one's project. But first, allow me to tell you something. While many people working for Umbrella are genuinely good and decent people, trying to create new and beneficial pharmaceuticals and medical technology, that is something of a façade. Lord Spencer, Dr Marcus, Lord Henry, even my own grandfather, founded Umbrella as a cover for their own eugenics research, and rather illegal research at that."

"…Eugenics?" Harry asked. "Isn't that a form of selective breeding, as well as sterilising or even killing undesirables? Sounds like the Nazis, or the Death Eaters for that matter."

"Not just the Nazis or the Death Eaters. HG Wells, George Bernard Shaw, Francis Galton…indeed, Winston Churchill was an avid advocate of an act that, if passed, would have seen the so-called 'feeble-minded' sterilised or put into labour camps. It was eventually modified, yet it still has echoes of the Nazis' own campaign against the disabled, Aktion T4, which saw hundreds of thousands of so-called mentally-deficient people murdered. And this act Churchill wanted was before the First World War. Edward Ashford had even been friends with Hermann Göring, who gave him a gift of gold-plated Luger Pistols. Personally, I feel ambivalent about such things, at least where eugenics to improve the human condition is concerned. After all, as a scientist, I know that the so-called halfbreed is actually better predisposed to survive than supposed purebloods, and no so-called race or ethnicity is truly inferior to another. Forgive me, we have gone off-topic. I just wished to educate you on how depressingly widespread belief in eugenics is, and how it was used to justify spurious hypotheses on racial superiority."

Harry nodded, a little mollified by Veronica's words. He didn't know that about those famous figures. Oh, he had heard of Francis Galton, the cousin of Charles Darwin, a famous statistician and the founder of Social Darwinism, and he knew Galton was one of the founders of modern-day eugenics, even if the practise was carried out in a crude manner beforehand: the Spartans being a notorious example. He'd also heard of Aktion T4, thanks to his mother. One of the many atrocities carried out during the Holocaust.

"Okay, so…Umbrella was founded by a bunch of people who would have fit in very well amongst the Nazis and their ilk," Harry said.

"Indeed. In fact, aside from Edward Ashford, I believe Dr James Marcus was a member of an American fascist organisation in his youth. They founded Umbrella with the secret intention of accelerating the evolution of humanity. Evolution by natural selection, as you would know, takes thousands if not millions of years to take place."

"In other words, they were impatient."

"They believed humanity would be slow to adapt to any great catastrophe that could destroy civilisation," Veronica said, with a verbal shrug apparent in her tone. "A not-unreasonable fear, but they intended to kickstart this acceleration into a transhuman state through viral genetic modification. In fact, Umbrella was founded when Spencer found a certain plant in Western Africa. This plant, the Sonnentreppe or the Stairway of the Sun, was used by certain people of the Ndipaya tribe to choose their god-kings. Most of the would-be kings died, but those who survived gained superhuman power, if you believe the legends. The plant certainly did have one thing going for it: a retrovirus."

"Like HIV?" Harry asked.

"Indeed, but far faster-acting. Spencer called this virus Progenitor, and used it as the basis not only of research into genetic modification…but into bioweapons."

Harry gaped. "…What? Umbrella…creates bioweapons?"

"Indeed. True, it could be justified. After all, there's actually little difference between creating a bioweapon, and researching protection and prevention against the same. Porton Down in Britain, for example, or USAMRIID in the US. Both work on defence against bioweapons, but they have also created them, and these are just the organisations I can name off the top of my head. However, Umbrella does not care about who it sells to, whether they be legitimate governments, or terrorists. As long as they can profit off of it. And before you ask, your mother is well aware. She is my accomplice, for want of a better word, in bringing Umbrella back in line with its roots, improving humanity's lot."

Harry scoffed. "Quite the philanthropist, aren't you?" he asked sarcastically.

"If need be, call it noblesse oblige, something your Purebloods could do well to learn. True, noblesse oblige sounds immensely patronising, but it at least speaks of duty to help one's fellow man. It's something Alfred Ashford could have learned. Instead, he viewed everything in the world as his plaything…including his sister. He nearly murdered your mother out of possessive spite."

"…What?" Harry hissed in shock.

"You may remember that your mother was in a coma for about a week after the so-called lab accident. In fact, she had been shot by Alfred Ashford in a jealous, spiteful tantrum. I decided that he showed not the loyalty due to his sister, but rather, conduct unbecoming of any decent human being. So, I used him as a test subject. Your mother put an end to his misery, and perhaps that was for the best."

"You used Alfred Ashford as a guinea pig?" Harry whispered in horror.

"He was an attempted murderer, including of his own father, as well as of a woman I have come to love like a mother I never had, and lusted after his sister. Her own feelings on those matters were ambivalent. If someone tried to murder Lily out of jealous spite, or even did so, what would you do to them?"

Harry had little answer to that. If that happened to his mother…no, to either of his parents or his younger brother, he may very well have killed them. Not slowly, but he could have done the deed. He very nearly went to track down Lucius Malfoy and subject him to the Cruciatus for that damn diary thing he'd unleashed on Hogwarts. His brother had been forced to kill a Basilisk, for fuck's sake! At twelve! And that had only happened a couple of weeks back.

But there was more. He was beginning to get the feeling that 'Veronica Lazarus' was a false name, a pseudonym. And he had a sneaking suspicion about who she really was.

So he looked at the camera, and gave it his best glare. "Well then," he said, "you said no more lies between us. So, how about we meet, face to face? And you can tell me who you really are."

"…Oh, you are good," 'Veronica' purred. "Then please follow my directions, and do not deviate. I will instruct you on where to go…"


Her directions led him through various corridors, no longer like the mansion, but cold and utilitarian, like the rest of the base, presumably. He was led to a door, which opened onto a vast chamber, filled with machinery and computer banks. While many parts of the Antarctic base were a touch on the cold side, this room was extremely cold. And dim too, the only sources of light being a few lights and computer monitors. And pride of place was a glass tank, its exterior covered by frost and rime and condensation. A shape, festooned with wires and tubing, floated within it.

"What the bloody hell is this place?" Harry asked, his breath fogging up, until he cast a Warming Charm on himself.

A chuckle from 'Veronica' over the PA system. "Observe, and draw your own conclusions."

Harry looked around, before he realised that the indistinct shape within the tank was a person. After a moment, he said, "…Cryogenics…is this a cryogenics facility?"

"Hmm, wrong, though a rather reasonable assumption all the same. The technical term for such a facility would be cryonics, and this is neither. In fact, it's more of a hibernation facility, designed to slow down many parts of human physiology as well as the changes caused by a vector virus modifying the human genome. Of course, the subject has to be at temperatures below zero, so while it does not actually count as the usual definition of cryonics or cryopreservation, it could be considered in the same field."

As 'Veronica' spoke, Harry wandered over to the tank. As he got closer, he was able to see more of the form in the tank. It appeared to be a young woman, a few years older than him at least, long golden hair drifting around her head like seaweed. Her features were haughty and aristocratic, reminding him of more than a few of the Purebloods. And yet, she had a divine beauty too. He blushed when he realised she was naked, and was glad that, while the tubes and wires did nothing to obscure her form, the frost of the tank prevented him from seeing too much…

Suddenly, three things happened more or less simultaneously. Firstly, the woman's eyes snapped open, revealing icy blue orbs. Secondly, her hand was right on the glass in front of him, as if it had Apparated there. And thirdly, he heard a bellow of "BOO!" from the PA system.

Harry couldn't help himself. He leapt back with a shriek of fright. "MERLIN'S SAGGY SCROTE!" he screamed.

The woman inside the tank lowered her hand, smirking, raising an eyebrow as she did so. "What's the matter?" the voice over the PA system asked. "I thought another prank was in order."

Harry stared at the woman, before he scowled. "Ha ha, very funny. Did you bring me here for a reason other than to scare the shit out of me?"

"Actually, I did. I wanted someone to release me. In my current state, I do have some small control over electric and electronic devices. It was how I was able to see you through the CCTV cameras, how I was able to speak with you through phone lines and the PA system. So I could open up the tank myself. But I'm fond of having an audience. Feel free to open up the tank yourself. Then, we can get proper introductions out of the way. You can't miss it. See the big red button labelled 'End Hibernation Sequence'? Press it, and then type in 'Veronica' into the keyboard next to it, please."

Harry looked to the young woman, and then to the control panel. If what he was guessing was correct, he could be unleashing a monster into the world, a monster in human form. Someone who experimented on her own brother, who had experimented on herself. Someone working for Umbrella, which she admitted worked on bioweapons. She had lied to him, or twisted the truth. Should he trust her?

But then, he remembered the pleasure those phone calls gave him. Someone who wanted to listen to him, to treat him as just Harry Potter, and not James Potter's heir or the older brother to the Boy Who Lived. And he listened to her in her own turn. He remembered Dumbledore's hard-on for redeeming people too, too many who didn't deserve it.

Thus, he would give her a chance. Just one. And hopefully, he wouldn't come to regret it.

So he pressed the button, and then typed in the password. He turned in time to see the woman giving him a grateful smile. Machinery whirred into life. The liquid began to drain from the tank, dropping down within seconds. Then, the woman began reaching around, removing wires, IV tubes, and even reaching down to remove presumably waste-disposal tubing, given where her hand was at, concealed by the frost-covered glass. All done with swift efficiency and yet gentle professionalism.

Then, with as much dignity as she could muster, she began choking up the liquid she had been floating in, coughing and retching as hard as she could, the oxygenated liquid splattering onto the bottom of the tank. Harry had to look away with a blush, as the action seemed to be doing rather interesting things to her breasts, and her movements and the now-gradually receding layer of frost on the tank meant that he could see them somewhat now. He didn't want to be seen as a voyeur anyway.

Then, the tank opened up with a whir. He then heard her mutter, her voice hoarse, "Ugh, the aftertaste…they do still have Listerine these days, don't they? I need to wash my mouth out. The hibernation fluid does the job in carrying oxygen, nutrients and drugs into my body, as well as carbon dioxide out, but the taste…well, your mother restocked the fridge in the mansion, so how about we celebrate with a meal? And you can look at me, Harry. I don't mind."

Harry shook his head, before shucking off his jacket, handing it over, or at least thrusting it in her general direction. "…Please?" he asked. "You're naked, and it's cold."

A chuckle from the woman, before his jacket was taken from him. The voice was much like it was through the PA system and the phone, only hoarser and a bit throatier now. "How gallant. Chivalry is not entirely dead. But the cold doesn't bother me anyway. Thank you for your generosity, regardless. So, Harry Potter, allow me to introduce myself properly. Please, look at me."

Harry did so, a bit reluctantly, but the woman had donned his jacket. It wasn't enough to cover everything, but her torso was at least covered. And she was smiling gently.

"Hello, Harry Potter. I am the Honourable Dr Alexia Ashford, heiress to the Ashford family line," she said. "A pleasure to meet you in person, at long last…"

CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:

So, Harry's learned something of the truth, and he's become a witness to Alexia's re-emergence.

Why does Alexia introduce herself as 'the Honourable'? Simple: she's an heiress to an earldom, with the Ashfords and Oswell E Spencer are both earldoms. I suppose she's also a bit pompous, trying to impress on Harry who she is, despite his issues with the upper crust.

The history of eugenics is an interesting one, albeit a very dark one. I first learned of Shaw and Churchill's eugenics beliefs in Introducing the Holocaust, the Icon Books Graphic Guide, though I learned about HG Wells' links to eugenics ideas later. The act Churchill spoke in favour of (as the Home Secretary in 1911) would eventually be passed into law as the Mental Deficiency Act 1913, and while stopping short of labour camps and forced sterilisation, nonetheless forcibly institutionalised many considered to be 'feeble-minded'. It was eventually overturned by the Mental Health Act 1959.

Of course, the Nazis got in on the act. Aktion T4 was basically the euthanising of those with disabilities. While this was actually protested, believe it or not, the Nazis did continue it throughout the Holocaust. And let's not forget the rest of the Holocaust, millions of people of Jewish, Slavic, or other heritage or religion, murdered to prop up the Nazis' racist ideology.

I was actually a little surprised to learn, via the Resident Evil wiki, that Edward Ashford got the Gold Lugers seen in the game from Hermann Göring himself (which was apparently in a booklet given with a replica collectable set of the Gold Lugers). Then again, maybe I shouldn't be. The founders of Umbrella are explicitly stated in the lore to have been interested in eugenics, even founding a society to that effect. In addition, Dr Marcus' ideology in his training facility strongly suggests a fascist bent, and he certainly grew up at a time when fascism was becoming popular (James Marcus was born in 1918, and would have been a teenager during the rise of the fascist groups). So, by implication, at least Edward Ashford and James Marcus may both have had fascist leanings or Nazi sympathies. The jury's still out on Spencer, as we don't know enough about his character, but it certainly would not be surprising if he was, given what we see of him.

The clarification of Alexia's state being hibernation rather than cryonic was one made in Q Alias' The Antarctic Incident, their rewrite of their original OC-centric take on Resident Evil: Code Veronica. Those stories have a number of good ideas and explorations of Alexia and her various actions, and this story would not be here without it. She's still very much a monster in those stories, but she's considerably more complex.

Of course, here, she's more moral, though that's not saying much. Would she happily turn someone who pisses her off into a guinea pig? Hell yeah. Is she still something of a megalomaniac? Yes. Does she lack empathy? Yep.

But thanks in part to Lily's influence, she actually has some empathy, to say nothing of pragmatism. She's actually capable of love and friendship (beyond her brother in the original game). She's actually read Machiavelli, and things it's better to be feared AND loved, leaning more towards the latter. And she doesn't want to turn humanity into an ant colony with her as its queen, though she still intend to rule the world through Umbrella…just as a relatively benign corporatocrat.

Of course, it's still a rocky beginning to her and Harry's relationship. But relationships rarely sail so smoothly.

No numbered annotations this time.