construction, as were his back legs. But his head had changed, leaving him with a bottom jaw that jutted out too far and a knobby skull that looked like it belonged on an iguana.
From hell.
The rest of him was very Draconian. He even had scales, a tail, and wings.
His mind was the last thing to go. Dobson was grateful for the loss. He was tired of the thing asking him about the Whore every time he walked into the observatory. Now it just stared at him with its yellow eyes.
But his son had been the doorway.
Dobson was going to solve the world’s problems. He was going to kill all those fuckers. Every last one of them, as well as any bastard offspring they’d managed to slip into the population.
There was just one problem.
According to his metaphysical biologists, Male Kin had highly varied DNA. There just wasn’t a way to make the virus fit to any one series of nucleotide combinations. Unlike Humans, Kin had well over a dozen different types. And depending on location, some of one kind weren’t found in another.
It put a little bit of a wrinkle in his plan.
No. It put a goddamn wrench in the thing.
In order to build a virus specifically coded for a certain species, it would have to recognize something unique and only found in that organism. Because of the wide variation in Kin DNA, there just wasn’t a way to design a virus that would recognize all of them without putting Human lives at risk.
While some collateral damage is acceptable in any war, the margin for error in this battle just wasn’t flexible.
The Human race depended on it.
Dobson’s metaphysical-biologist theorized that while Male Kin were extremely varied in their genetic makeup, it was reasonable to believe Females might offer more consistency.
It had taken some work but he’d managed to arrange the raid on the Texas Dens. With some very powerful weapons and military genius, Dobson pulled off what no one thought was possible.
The fact Texas was the last state where killing Kin was as legal as swatting flies didn’t hurt.
It took a little over eight-hundred military men, three hundred Alchemists, and a shit-load of napalm, but they managed to burn her out. Three of the Females were killed along with a thousand or more Males, but one other survived, including the Queen. Dobson’s white coats had been right. Females held a series of nucleotides which could be universally patterned with any Male they sampled. And they had sampled thousands.
So they’d set to work designing the virus. Thanks to the prison system, Dobson had easy access to a constant supply of DNA. They tested the Female samples against everything that came through and it always worked.
Until they sampled Niles.
That wyrm sent the white coats scrambling. Richards suggested it was because of his age. Which was a reasonable theory. If certain lines had lost their maternal lineage, and those Males were never utilized, then there was the potential for rogue DNA sequences that might be missed.
Unacceptable. This new information threatened to undo over twenty years worth of preparation. Dobson was almost ready to accept the fact they’d have some survivors when a hit came up on sample zero.
The Institute for the Advancement of Kin and Human Relations was one of just many fronts Dobson used for routine population checks. He had a group in thirty-five out of fifty states. Not only did the front give him an easy way to do the research he needed on a massive scale, it provided income for his project. Which was by no means cheap.
Dobson’s budget made the U.S. government look like the weekend
Penny Saver
ads.
One of the things the Institute did was set up med clinics to pay the poor and unfortunate for their willingness to donate to science. Sample Zero was cataloged at a local Burn Research drive. When her DNA was entered into the system it took about three weeks for it to be tagged.
Richards brought Dobson the news. And for the first time in over a year Dobson slept like a
From hell.
The rest of him was very Draconian. He even had scales, a tail, and wings.
His mind was the last thing to go. Dobson was grateful for the loss. He was tired of the thing asking him about the Whore every time he walked into the observatory. Now it just stared at him with its yellow eyes.
But his son had been the doorway.
Dobson was going to solve the world’s problems. He was going to kill all those fuckers. Every last one of them, as well as any bastard offspring they’d managed to slip into the population.
There was just one problem.
According to his metaphysical biologists, Male Kin had highly varied DNA. There just wasn’t a way to make the virus fit to any one series of nucleotide combinations. Unlike Humans, Kin had well over a dozen different types. And depending on location, some of one kind weren’t found in another.
It put a little bit of a wrinkle in his plan.
No. It put a goddamn wrench in the thing.
In order to build a virus specifically coded for a certain species, it would have to recognize something unique and only found in that organism. Because of the wide variation in Kin DNA, there just wasn’t a way to design a virus that would recognize all of them without putting Human lives at risk.
While some collateral damage is acceptable in any war, the margin for error in this battle just wasn’t flexible.
The Human race depended on it.
Dobson’s metaphysical-biologist theorized that while Male Kin were extremely varied in their genetic makeup, it was reasonable to believe Females might offer more consistency.
It had taken some work but he’d managed to arrange the raid on the Texas Dens. With some very powerful weapons and military genius, Dobson pulled off what no one thought was possible.
The fact Texas was the last state where killing Kin was as legal as swatting flies didn’t hurt.
It took a little over eight-hundred military men, three hundred Alchemists, and a shit-load of napalm, but they managed to burn her out. Three of the Females were killed along with a thousand or more Males, but one other survived, including the Queen. Dobson’s white coats had been right. Females held a series of nucleotides which could be universally patterned with any Male they sampled. And they had sampled thousands.
So they’d set to work designing the virus. Thanks to the prison system, Dobson had easy access to a constant supply of DNA. They tested the Female samples against everything that came through and it always worked.
Until they sampled Niles.
That wyrm sent the white coats scrambling. Richards suggested it was because of his age. Which was a reasonable theory. If certain lines had lost their maternal lineage, and those Males were never utilized, then there was the potential for rogue DNA sequences that might be missed.
Unacceptable. This new information threatened to undo over twenty years worth of preparation. Dobson was almost ready to accept the fact they’d have some survivors when a hit came up on sample zero.
The Institute for the Advancement of Kin and Human Relations was one of just many fronts Dobson used for routine population checks. He had a group in thirty-five out of fifty states. Not only did the front give him an easy way to do the research he needed on a massive scale, it provided income for his project. Which was by no means cheap.
Dobson’s budget made the U.S. government look like the weekend
Penny Saver
ads.
One of the things the Institute did was set up med clinics to pay the poor and unfortunate for their willingness to donate to science. Sample Zero was cataloged at a local Burn Research drive. When her DNA was entered into the system it took about three weeks for it to be tagged.
Richards brought Dobson the news. And for the first time in over a year Dobson slept like a
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