Blackstone? A doctor involved in the research?
I follow Vasily down to the car and sit beside him in silence as we drive towards the more run-down areas of the waterfront that hasn't yet been revitalized.
We pull up beside an old warehouse whose bricks are so old they're black from years of soot and pollution. Vasily escorts me inside and into a room in the basement. The room is hot and stuffy. On a chair in the center of the room is a man, his shirt off, his arms behind his back. He's sweating, but his skin is pale, his face bruised and his lip split. Blood has dripped on his chest. One eye is swollen shut.
Julien walks around him, some kind of implement in his hand, which he slaps against his palm. He stops when he sees me, but his expression is still dark.
"Ah, here she is – my little Adept. Colonel Reynolds, meet Ms. Eve Hayden."
Vasily pushes me forward and I stop a few feet away from Reynolds, who looks me up and down.
"This is your Adept? " He whistles, causing my cheeks to burn in the already hot room. "God, how can you possibly focus?"
"Tell me about it."
Reynolds nods to me.
"Pardon my slurred speech," he says in a soft southern drawl, "but my lip is a bit fat right now. Sorry I can't shake your hand."
Julien turns to me but doesn't meet my eyes.
"Besides being a former special ops officer, Colonel Reynolds is also a clinical scientist, Ms. Hayden," he says, emphasizing the formal title, his tone reminding me of the new status of our relationship. "He worked on that very special project in early 90s. I thought you two might have a chat and share stories."
"I wasn't directly involved in the research that was used on you," Reynolds says. "But on the larger project. I do know some who were."
Julien pulls up a chair and motions to me to sit. I do, glad to focus on something other than Julien and this icy chill between us.
"What we need to know is what they were using to alter my DNA so I could daywalk and how the drug was delivered."
"I think, from what I do know,” Reynolds says, “that it was done to regulate gene expression in the skin's immune system. They either turned on genes that were dormant in order to offset the effect of the deficient or mutated genes that vampires receive when they're infected, or insert corrected versions of the defective gene. How they did it? Nanotech to deliver to the cells, having discovered buckyballs in the mid-80s."
"What do you know about the skin's immune system?" Julien asks.
"All I know," Reynolds said, "is that people with extreme light sensitivity are prone to extreme responses to the sun. Their skin literally bubbles when exposed to ultraviolet light in certain wavelengths."
I think for a moment. "The drug given to the daywalkers must activate or suppress the genes in some way," I say, remembering my class in immunology. "The drug must be delivered to the cells through the blood and is released into the cell, altering the DNA at the cellular level."
"Exactly," Reynolds says. "Genes that protect are either shut on or defective genes are shut off. I don't know which it was."
"I knew vampirism was a set of genetic mutations," I say, turning to Julien. "Not a curse from some vengeful god."
Julien nods but doesn't meet my eyes.
"Or a set of genetic mutations unleashed on mortals by a vengeful God," he says.
I shake my head at his willingness to put it all down to God.
"Military researchers seem to know a lot more about the genetics of vampirism that the rest of science," I say to Reynolds.
Reynolds smiles.
"The military started doing genome research at Los Alamos and through the Department of Energy in the early 80s – a kind of genetic Manhattan Project, and just as secret. Working for government directly gets results. The civilian genome project was years behind the military's own secret project. It was important to delay civilian research until the military could ensure any knowledge gained that could potentially be used for military purposes could
I follow Vasily down to the car and sit beside him in silence as we drive towards the more run-down areas of the waterfront that hasn't yet been revitalized.
We pull up beside an old warehouse whose bricks are so old they're black from years of soot and pollution. Vasily escorts me inside and into a room in the basement. The room is hot and stuffy. On a chair in the center of the room is a man, his shirt off, his arms behind his back. He's sweating, but his skin is pale, his face bruised and his lip split. Blood has dripped on his chest. One eye is swollen shut.
Julien walks around him, some kind of implement in his hand, which he slaps against his palm. He stops when he sees me, but his expression is still dark.
"Ah, here she is – my little Adept. Colonel Reynolds, meet Ms. Eve Hayden."
Vasily pushes me forward and I stop a few feet away from Reynolds, who looks me up and down.
"This is your Adept? " He whistles, causing my cheeks to burn in the already hot room. "God, how can you possibly focus?"
"Tell me about it."
Reynolds nods to me.
"Pardon my slurred speech," he says in a soft southern drawl, "but my lip is a bit fat right now. Sorry I can't shake your hand."
Julien turns to me but doesn't meet my eyes.
"Besides being a former special ops officer, Colonel Reynolds is also a clinical scientist, Ms. Hayden," he says, emphasizing the formal title, his tone reminding me of the new status of our relationship. "He worked on that very special project in early 90s. I thought you two might have a chat and share stories."
"I wasn't directly involved in the research that was used on you," Reynolds says. "But on the larger project. I do know some who were."
Julien pulls up a chair and motions to me to sit. I do, glad to focus on something other than Julien and this icy chill between us.
"What we need to know is what they were using to alter my DNA so I could daywalk and how the drug was delivered."
"I think, from what I do know,” Reynolds says, “that it was done to regulate gene expression in the skin's immune system. They either turned on genes that were dormant in order to offset the effect of the deficient or mutated genes that vampires receive when they're infected, or insert corrected versions of the defective gene. How they did it? Nanotech to deliver to the cells, having discovered buckyballs in the mid-80s."
"What do you know about the skin's immune system?" Julien asks.
"All I know," Reynolds said, "is that people with extreme light sensitivity are prone to extreme responses to the sun. Their skin literally bubbles when exposed to ultraviolet light in certain wavelengths."
I think for a moment. "The drug given to the daywalkers must activate or suppress the genes in some way," I say, remembering my class in immunology. "The drug must be delivered to the cells through the blood and is released into the cell, altering the DNA at the cellular level."
"Exactly," Reynolds says. "Genes that protect are either shut on or defective genes are shut off. I don't know which it was."
"I knew vampirism was a set of genetic mutations," I say, turning to Julien. "Not a curse from some vengeful god."
Julien nods but doesn't meet my eyes.
"Or a set of genetic mutations unleashed on mortals by a vengeful God," he says.
I shake my head at his willingness to put it all down to God.
"Military researchers seem to know a lot more about the genetics of vampirism that the rest of science," I say to Reynolds.
Reynolds smiles.
"The military started doing genome research at Los Alamos and through the Department of Energy in the early 80s – a kind of genetic Manhattan Project, and just as secret. Working for government directly gets results. The civilian genome project was years behind the military's own secret project. It was important to delay civilian research until the military could ensure any knowledge gained that could potentially be used for military purposes could
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