Science and Sorcery (11 page)

“The civil rights groups will love that,” the Secretary of Defence said.  “They’re the ones who bitched about keeping terrorist suspects under surveillance – and all of those suspects did something that attracted our attention.  Werewolves didn't do anything to become werewolves, did they?”

“Not as far as we know,” Caitlyn admitted.  “It’s a mystery.”

The whole issue of just what was changing the world remained an unanswered question.  One of the internet posters she’d read had ranted and raved about junk DNA in the human body suddenly activating, but he hadn't sounded like a very knowledgeable man.  He still thought that the appendix was useless, which would have been considered true ten years ago.  Doctors now knew that the appendix operated as a safe house for bacteria, among other things.  It
was
vaguely possible that the genes to turn someone into a werewolf still existed in the human body, but that raised the question of just where they’d come from in the first place.  And, for that matter, how they forced a body to warp into a giant wolf.

“It’s a public health issue,” the Attorney General said.  “We do have emergency protocols in place that we could use to round them up and hold them, purely for their own safety.”

“Which were meant for a biological warfare attack,” the unnamed officer pointed out.  “We’re not considering quarantining a city or locking down the entire country, but individuals; individuals who have done nothing to deserve bad treatment.”

Caitlyn relaxed slightly as the debate wore on, even though the politicians were more worried about the political impact of the crisis than the scientific or practical concerns it raised.  Or, for that matter, the philosophical questions.  Kaleen could heal the sick.  Did that mean that she had been touched by God? 

“This matter must be discussed at length,” the President said, finally.  Caitlyn kept her face expressionless with some difficulty.  The matter had already been discussed for nearly an hour already.  “Agent Lyle, you can go relax in the side room, if you wish.  We’ve kept you on your feet long enough.”

“Thank you, Mr. President,” Caitlyn said. 

It didn't take an idiot to know that they wanted her out of the room, probably so they could discuss her future.  She stepped outside and, unsurprisingly, encountered a Secret Service agent who escorted her into the side room, where she went to the toilet and wiped her forehead.  She’d been sweating hard enough to ruin her make-up, but she hadn’t even noticed. 

There was no internet connection in the side room, so she picked up a notepad and started writing notes to herself, considering the future.  She’d told the President that she’d seen the big picture, but she was sure that she was still only seeing a tiny fraction of the reality.  Nine deaths had been reported in Britain at Stonehenge, just before she entered the White House.  Were they just another outbreak of whatever craziness was sweeping the world, or were they completely unrelated to everything else?  She was thinking – after reading reports of strange lights and stranger sightings near places of ancient power – of recommending that whoever took command of the task force ordered them isolated.  Too many people had died already with no clear explanation. 

Surprisingly, it was Tomlinson who came to call her, nearly an hour after she’d entered the side room to wait.  The second surprise was that most of the people who had attended the meeting had left, leaving only the President and a single uniformed officer in the room.  Caitlyn hesitated, unsure of where to go, until the President nodded to a chair sitting near him.  Tomlinson took one further down the table.

“I will be addressing the nation tomorrow,” the President said, “concerning the crisis.  I will appeal for potential werewolves – and others with supernatural talents – to come forward and identify themselves to the government, where we can help them explore their new abilities in a safe location.”

“And exploit them, if possible,” Tomlinson said.  “If werewolves could learn to tame themselves, just think of the soldiers they’d make.”

“However, I have also decided that we must avoid the shambles that normally results when several different governmental agencies start trying to fight over who takes the lead,” the President added.  “I will not have another 9/11 on my hands.  The infighting back then was quite bad enough.  For the moment, you will serve as the Director of an inter-agency task force that will take the lead.  You have the clearance to handle the situation, reporting directly to me.  Should someone try to start squabbling anyway, feel free to slap them down.”

Caitlyn swallowed.  She’d never really considered that she would be placed in command, even though she had to admit that it was logical.  And she was expendable, as far as the FBI’s leadership was concerned.  No doubt there had been some political horse-trading while she’d been out of the room.  It wouldn't be the first time some poor sap had been pushed into the line of fire to cover a superior ass or two.

“Thank you, Mr. President,” she said, finally.  “I won’t let you down.”

Chapter Eleven

Washington DC, USA

Day 8

“I really don’t understand how this works.”

Doctor Linda Roseburg was, according to the Defence Intelligence Agency, one of the foremost researchers in the country.  Matt had read the unclassified portion of her file and had to admit that the Doctor was clearly a genius.  And, unlike a couple of other researchers, willing to open her mind more to encompass Golem’s existence.  One particular researcher had looked at Golem and decided that he couldn't possibly exist.

“I think we’re going to have that feeling for quite some time,” Matt said, finally.  The task force had rounded up as many researchers as it could on very short notice, but they’d had to borrow FBI and DIA research labs until they could move to a disused military base well away from civilians.  “What’s wrong with him?”

Linda snorted.  “You mean apart from the fact he really shouldn’t be able to live?”

She shook her head.  “We do x-rays and they reveal that his body is almost completely made of clay, apart from the bones, which appear to be made of stone.  We can’t pull out a sample for analysis because every attempt we’ve made to cut into his skin – if we can call it skin – heals within seconds.  There’s no logical reason why he should be able to walk and talk, let alone work magic.”

“A wizard did it,” Matt said, deadpan. 

“So he says,” Linda agreed.  “On the other hand, they used to prove that bumblebees couldn't fly.  And bumblebees clearly
can
fly, so there was something wrong with the research.”

Matt nodded, impatiently.  Golem had put up with being poked and prodded with far more patience than a human, although he had seemed doubtful of the value of the whole endeavour.  As he didn't need to sleep, he was rotated between medical researchers, who studied his physical makeup, and historians who wanted to learn about the past world that history had forgotten.  And, as the researchers invented tests for magical research, he cast spells for their experiments.

“It gets more confusing,” Linda admitted.  “He has two different camouflage spells, both of which make him look human.  The first one fools human minds, but not security cameras; the second fools security cameras as well.  Our best theory is that the first spell works directly on the human mind, therefore not fooling mechanical surveillance devices, while the second creates a false image.  How long is it going to be until
humans
develop such magic for themselves?”

“Not long, according to Golem,” Matt said, grimly.  Golem was vastly knowledgeable about some issues, but surprisingly ignorant about others.  Or maybe it wasn't too surprising; he’d been ripped from his world, where he’d known how everything functioned, and dumped into a world that had to be very alien to his eyes.  “And does
mana
interfere with technology?”

Linda hesitated.  “We’re not sure,” she said.  “So far, Golem’s mere existence doesn’t seem to cause problems with our technology, unless the frankly baffling results of x-rays come from magical interference.  We’ve been checking for reports of technological failure and suchlike all around the world, but nothing has popped up that suggests that technology is about to fail.  However, when he works a major spell,
something
interferes slightly with our detectors.”

“That doesn't sound good,” Matt said.

“Neither does EMP, and
that
is perfectly understandable,” Linda said, firmly.  “
Mana
– or rather using
mana
– presumably produces some energy, just like burning oil produces heat and fumes.  Given time, we may be able to detect magic at long distance, particularly after we puzzle out the laws of science that
govern
magic.  But that’s quite some time away.”

“Wonderful,” Matt muttered.  The President’s speech had shocked the world – and unleashed a wave of panic.  Everyone had heard the reports about werewolves, and that would have been bad enough, but outright magic?  How could the law cope with someone who used Voodoo to strike down their enemies?  The Secret Service were already panicking over the dangers of someone trying to curse the President.  “Could we detect a magician if we tried?”

“Eventually, yes,” Linda said, “but the laws don’t seem to quite make sense.  We seem to be able to detect
something
when the spell is actually cast, yet we can't pick up anything when the spell is functioning.  We’re still fighting over just how this works, even without the elves and dwarfs.”

Matt had to smile.  One idea Caitlyn had been able to put into action quickly had been to round up every fantasy writer in Washington and invite them to join the research program as theorists.  They’d rapidly divided into two groups; the elves, who believed that magic existed in harmony with nature, and the dwarfs, who believed that magic could be rendered comprehensible, and then functional.  It didn't help that the elves tended to believe in a bucolic paradise without the presence of dirty technology, while the dwarfs took a more cynical view of the universe.  Judging from Golem’s patient lectures, the world that had birthed him had been far from ideal for the vast majority of humanity.  Those who had been able to manipulate
mana
had all the power.

He was still mulling the concept over an hour later, as he joined Golem in one of the testing chambers.  The FBI normally used them for analysing compounds mixed together by terrorists, knowing that some compounds might be unstable and explode if handled badly, but this time it was being outfitted for scientific research.  Golem waited patiently as the researchers set up all kinds of equipment and then cast the flame spell on demand.  A tiny column of fire rose up from his clay hand and danced towards the ceiling, almost hypnotically. 

“Interesting,” Linda said, studying the readings from the various sensors.  “The fire doesn't seem to be behaving normally at all.  And there was a surge of heat before the flames flickered into existence.”

Matt glanced over at her.  “What does it mean?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Linda said.  She looked up at him and grinned.  “Cutting-edge research, officer.  Who
knows
where we will be tomorrow?”

She raised her voice as the fire died away.  “That’s good, Golem,” she said.  “Can you do the water spell now?”

Matt looked over at Golem with interest.  From what he’d said, apprentices to the various sorcerers had learned the fire and water spells before all others, at least when they’d developed their magic and started their formal training.  Matt could understand why they might want the two spells to be mastered quickly – they both held the promise of disaster if they went wrong – but he had the uneasy feeling that it wouldn't be easy to teach others.  Golem simply didn't know what his creator had taken for granted.

“Very interesting,” Linda mused, a moment later.  Golem had created a small stream of water that had risen up into the air, and then splashed down on the floor.  Unlike the fire spell, the water spell had taken nearly a minute to work properly.  “According to the sensors, the level of moisture in the air dropped sharply just after Golem started working magic.  I wonder if the spell really concentrated the water molecules in the air to the point where they could become visible.”

Matt saw the implications at once.  “If the room had been completely dry,” he said, “the spell might not have worked at all.”

“Or it might have sucked moisture out of our bodies,” Linda said.  “Or perhaps it would have started transmuting the atmosphere into water droplets.”

The scientists who were attached to the research program – and therefore knew that Golem existed – were still in deep denial over some of the spells Golem’s creator had been able to cast.  Golem himself – a thinking being, even if he wasn't human – was extraordinary, but they had had the concept of artificial intelligence to work with to help wrap their heads around the problem.  However, Golem had mentioned both transmutation and transfiguration – and the latter, in particular, messed with their minds.  What possible version of reality allowed a wizard to turn a man into a toad?

Some of the other implications were just as startling.  They’d had to explain to Golem that diamonds were expensive, after a misunderstanding involving a research assistant who had been wearing what Golem had taken to be a magic ring.  After some questioning, they’d realised that diamond was little more than altered coal and, back in the past, it had been easy for even a poor mage to create his own diamonds.  It had magical uses – much to the delight of some of the elves, who had been talking about the healing power of crystals – but it hadn't had much worth.  Given time, Matt was sure that some magician from the modern world was going to start trying to sell diamonds or gold and make himself rich before the world caught on. 

“I think there may be several different sets of laws, depending on what you’re doing,” Linda said, finally.  “It may be years before we have a grand unifying theory of magic.”

Leaving her to continue her research, Matt headed to the office that had been set aside for Caitlyn.  Her appointment as head of the task force – which some of the more disrespectful agents had taken to calling the Mage Force – had kept her busy as she tried to set up research programs, outreach programs and coordinate with law-enforcement officers around the country.  She’d even had to work with officers from other countries, which hadn't been quite so bad as working with lawyers.  A woman had been bitten during the first werewolf outbreak and, unlike some of the others, had been infected herself.  She was now trying to sue the werewolf who’d bit her for everything he owned.

“Come on in,” Caitlyn said, putting down the phone.  “Did they come up with a working test for werewolves?”

Matt nodded.  He’d been feeling out of place in the FBI complex – he knew very little about scientific research – but Caitlyn had pointed out that she needed someone to keep an eye on the scientists.  Theory was all very well and good, yet they needed something practical, something they could use to get the country through a very uncomfortable period.  And then there was the threat of the Thirteen.  It hadn't taken too long to establish that Golem didn't know where they’d been imprisoned, something that had puzzled Matt until one of the researchers deduced that they’d been sealed away in a set of pocket dimensions.  The implication was that they could appear
anywhere
.

“All of the known werewolves have the same substance in their blood,” he said, by way of explanation.  “God alone knows where it comes from” – Golem hadn't been able to assist with
that
question – “but it seems to be lacking in some of the bite victims.  The general theory is that they escaped infection, although we’ll be keeping them under observation until the next full moon has come and gone.”

Caitlyn scowled.  Keeping innocent civilians under lock and key didn't sit well with her, even though there was little choice.  The government had done what it could to ensure that the civilians would be able to return to their lives, if they turned out not to be werewolves, but it wouldn't be enough.  No doubt the Bolsheviks had started out by rationalising their actions as for the greater good too. 

“One amusing point; one of the people who the police found naked in the great outdoors wasn’t a werewolf,” Matt added.  In hindsight, the police should have known when they’d tested him for alcohol and discovered that he’d drunk himself silly, if only because none of the werewolves seemed to be able to get drunk.  But they hadn't wanted to take chances.  “He doesn't have the werewolf factor in his blood.”

“That's something, at least,” Caitlyn said.  She looked down at the paperwork scattered over her desk.  “Has there been anything on
why
some people became werewolves?”

“Golem thinks that they were descended from werewolves who lived back when the
mana
was strong,” Matt said.  He’d said the same about the other warped humans, even the mermaids.  “The doctors keep asking how such traits could have been passed down for thousands of years without spreading to
everyone
.”

Caitlyn saw the implications at once.  “So we could
all
be werewolves, or mermaids, or vampires, or...”

“It’s a possibility,” Matt agreed.  He scowled; Golem had raised a point they should have seen earlier.  “They’re also not behaving as they did back in the past.  Golem says that werewolves without the ability to control themselves shifted during the nights of the full moon, not for just one day.  It’s possible that the werewolves and suchlike we saw now are only the ones who need a relatively low level of
mana
to transform.”