Dust to Dust Ch. 01

His secretary popped her head in the door.

"Uhm, Agent Jones is here to see you again."

Jon's eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't sure why Mr. Jones was there, but he had a feeling he'd get to the bottom of things soon enough.

"Mr. Jones," he said, standing and greeting the agent.

Bob Jones was rarely in such a state of unease, but that's how he found himself. He had been called into the office of a government official early that morning. It was one of those officials who had no name that was spoken in the outside world ... one of those officials who most of the world would never hear about ... one of those officials who had a clearance level that, on paper, didn't even exist. And even THAT man had looked a little nervous. He handed two sealed envelopes to Agent Jones and told that they were to be delivered to Dr. Trendenfall personally. No one was to open the envelopes except Dr. Trendenfall. No failures would be tolerated. Jones knew that warning for what it was ... something not to be questioned or disobeyed.

"Hello sir," he responded. "I can tell you're as confused by this as I am. I was told to bring these to you."

"What are they?" Jon replied, curious beyond all reason.

"I don't know. But they must be serious, seeing as certain individuals in the World Council told me to tell you that only you can open them. You are to look over the contents now, put them in the official return envelopes contained within, and give them back to me to return."

Trendenfall was stunned. He was a powerful and wealthy man, but this was beyond even his usual sphere of operation. He placed the envelopes on his desk, leaned back in his chair and just stared at the envelopes, almost afraid that they might rise up and bite him somehow.

Jones wandered over, picking a book off the doctor's desk.

"Facts and Fiction of Lycanthropy?" he asked. "Doesn't seem like your type of reading."

"I figured that if I need to understand the source of magic, I should study all things magical."

"But I thought that lycanthropes couldn't wield magic?"

Trendenfall nodded.

"They can't. Lycanthropes are closer to humans than any other race. Only the virus that causes them to morph separates us. But there is something about were-beings that prevents them from using magic. I figured that if we can compare DNA from humans and lycanthropes, it might help us narrow down our search."

"What do you mean?"

"DNA isn't quite set in stone. Most of our genetic sequence is dead and consists of viruses and diseases that we've long since found a way to survive. Since whatever the lycanthropic virus does suppresses the ability to manipulate magic, I decided to follow the spread of the virus and see where it took me. It's really helped direct our research."

"Fascinating. I'm sure your opponents won't like you mucking around with human genetics."

"The threats have been getting worse."

Trendenfall shook his head.

"I know. They've been slowly merging into a more cohesive unit. They've even officially picked up the old 'The Purity' moniker. I so very much wanted that to be behind us."

"Bigotry is eternal," Trendenfall muttered bitterly.

Mr. McBride walked in.

"Hey Bob. What are you doing here?"

Suddenly, Jones and Dr. Trendenfall were brought back to reality. Reality was the two enveloped on the desk.

"Mr. Jones brought me some ... material. Please close the door," Jon said.

McBride did as he was told. This had to be serious.

Dr. Trendenfall opened the first letter and read carefully.

"Am I not to discuss these at all?"

"Officially? No."

"Unofficially?"

Jones shrugged.

"I'm kind of curious to know what this is about."

McBride nodded his assent.

"It's from Ash. She called in some favors to get me some information that might help me ... help me with her situation."

"What IS her situation?" Jones asked.

Trendenfall closed his eyes.

"She wants to get rid of her Talent, for starters."

McBride and Jones were both baffled.

"Why would anyone want to get rid of their Talent?"

Jon shook his head.

"I don't know. Said things would be made clear soon enough."

Jon was concentrating very hard not to let other information slip. Ash had made another request ... one he knew she wouldn't approve of him sharing.

"Maybe this is what she meant."

He opened the other envelope and removed its contents. Agent Jones and Tom McBride could both see the doctor's face go white as a sheet as soon as that first page came into view. He actually touched the paper with a trembling hand at first. He glanced through several more pages.

"What is it?" Tom asked at last.

"It's ... medical records ... experiment reports."

"So what's the big deal?" the security chief asked.

Jon looked his old friend in the face.

"They're from the Chimera Project."

Jones's eyes shot open and McBride felt flushed.

"Holy ... I thought all those records had been destroyed," Agent Jones said.

"So had we all," Jon replied.

Just the mention of the Chimera Project sent chills down many people's.spines. Dr. Trendenfall and his company hadn't been the first to try and figure out how magic worked. Many groups had, and still did, pursue the secret of magic. Some were more ethical than others. Then there was Chimera. Chimera Research had been a powerful company once upon a time: one of the most powerful and influential companies of its day. So when the scandal broke about their experiments, it shook the known world.

It turned out that many of the head officers and board members of Chimera had been mystics or cultists of some variety. They were obsessed with power, and not just material power. So they had opened a high-tech and highly secretive lab. They had basically abducted people off the streets or lured them with all sorts of promises. What they had done when they got them had been the stuff of horror stories.

Since magical Talents tended to be a manifestation of the wielder's life and strongest experiences, they figured they could imbue people who wouldn't normally have a Talent with just such a magical gift. And they did this by first exposing their victims to high levels of magic and then traumatizing them. There were reports of torture, both physical and psychological, to all of the test subjects. The scientists thought they might be able to grant the Talent of flight by exposing someone and then hurling them off a tall building. They thought that they could grant the Talent of invulnerability by exposing the victim to magic and then methodically bludgeoning them.

People had compared what had gone on within Chimera's labs with what the Nazis had done hundreds of years earlier. Many people had gone to jail and then conveniently disappeared after that. The chief scientist had been found dead on the floor of the lab when authorities stormed the complex. No one had ever found out who had done it.

"Why would Ash want you to see these?" Jones asked.

"I don't know," Jon whispered by way of reply.

He had continued to leaf through the pages, trying to make sense of things in his head.

"Why are these things sealed?" Tom asked.

"Maybe they didn't want people to pick up bad habits?" Jones replied.

"But the tests failed!" McBride said. "Why would anyone -- "

"Good God," Trendenfall muttered.

"What?"

"There WERE survivors! I'd always heard ... but they were just rumors."

He had found hundreds of profiles of the victims of the Chimera Project. Most had big red X's over the pictures, but the cause of death was clearly listed for each. As a medical practitioner, it made Jon sick to his stomach to read them. But then he had gotten to a few profiles where there were no X's ... and no causes of death.

"There were survivors," he reiterated. "No wonder the World Council hid the records. If people thought that this process worked ... there might be another group of sickos that might try and pull it off."

Then he stopped reading. The picture on the last profile stared up at her, hauntingly familiar.

"Sweet Jesus," he said.

McBride and Jones both ignored protocol and went around the desk to look. Jones knew that face too.

"Ash was a Chimera victim?!"

"For the love of -- " Tom McBride said. "What ... It doesn't say what they did to her?"

"She was the last test subject."

Trendenfall glanced over her sheet.

"This was an entry for right before the final raid that shut them down. Said that things had gone better than anticipated. But that's it."

He sat back and looked increasingly concerned.

"What's on your mind?" McBride asked.

"This complicates things," he said. "No one knows what massive magical exposure does to biology. What they did ... they broke all the rules, so I don't know if any of my research will even vaguely address her Talent. But it does explain why she might want to be rid of it."

"Wait." Agent Jones was obviously confused. "I still don't understand why she'd want to give up a power like that."

"Because it was a gift born of torment and pain. Would you really want to keep it?" Jon asked. "And it means that I may need to talk to someone with more understanding of pure magic than I have."

Agent Jones nodded.

"I think I know someone who might be able to help."

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Later that afternoon ...

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Trendenfall, Jones and McBride were all on their way to the company limo. Trendenfall's head was still abuzz with ideas.

'That poor girl,' he thought. 'What did they do to you?'

"She hasn't aged a day in forty years," Jon mumbled, mostly to Agent Jones. "Is that her Talent?"

"Sir," said Bob Jones, envelope firmly under his arm, "I would like to discourage you from talking about this again until we get to a secure location."

"Absolutely," the doctor replied. "I'm sorry. It's just so -- "

The time to dwell on the past quickly came to a screeching halt. Fifty yards ahead of them, the limo exploded, sending fire and bits of metal hurtling through the parking garage. The lot's emergency fields caught most of the explosion before it ever got to the trio, but the sound of the explosion was deafening. Sirens began to wail and the sprinkler system turned on.

Dr. Jon Trendenfall was at a loss for what to say or do, but Bob Jones had been in many situations like this in his long career. The methods of terrorism might change, but the feel of it is unmistakable. He quickly got on his communicator and called in the right personnel to make sure this was handled quickly. The escalation had begun.

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To be continued . . .