becomes an adult in three or four years, with an expected lifespan of ten to twelve years. We’d always bred in
small numbers, but Prae increased the birth rate. Some people wondered why, but nobody challenged her. Prae was an exemplary
director. We were sure she had good reasons for implementing the changes.
“A few months ago, she began making startling requests. She wanted to close down the programs and terminate all specimens.”
“You mean kill all the werewolves?” Shark frowns.
“Yes. She said a new strain of the disease had developed and spread. We couldn’t tell which were infected. If left to mutate
and evolve, the strain might be passed to ordinary humans. She wanted to remove them to a secure area of her choosing, where
they’d be safely disposed of.
“Nobody believed her.” Antoine’s face is grave. “There were too many holes in her story, no facts to support her theory. She
argued fiercely, threatened to resign, called in every favor. But we weren’t convinced. We insisted on more time to conduct
our own experiments. Prae was allowed to continue in her post, but I was assigned to monitor her and approve her decisions.
“Just over six weeks ago, Prae Athim disappeared. She left work on a Thursday and nobody has seen her since. That night, operatives
acting on her behalf subdued regular staff, tranquilized the specimens, removed them from their cells, and made off with them.
We’ve no idea where they went. We’ve devoted all of our resources to tracking them down but so far… nothing.”
Antoine smiles shakily. “I hoped she’d followed through on her plan to destroy the specimens. That would have been a tragic
loss, but at least it would have meant we didn’t have to worry about them. Now it seems my fears — that she had an ulterior
motive — have been borne out. If some of them were sent to attack Dervish Grady, we’re dealing with a far greater problem.
We have to find the missing specimens as swiftly as possible. The consequences if we don’t are staggering.”
“I’m not that worried about the werewolves,” Shark sniffs. “They’re secondary to finding Prae Athim. I mean, how many are
we talking about? A few dozen?”
Antoine laughs sharply. “You don’t understand. I told you earlier — Prae Athim has worked in this unit for twenty-six years.
But this is just one unit of many. We have bases on every continent and have been running similar programs in each. Prae didn’t
just take the specimens from this complex. She took them from
everywhere.
There’s not one left.”
Shark’s expression darkens. “How many?” he croaks.
“I don’t have an exact number to give,” Antoine says. “Some of the projects were under Prae’s personal supervision, and records
have been deleted from our system. It’s impossible to be accurate.”
“Roughly,” Shark growls.
Antoine gulps, then says quietly, so that we have to strain to hear, “Somewhere between six and seven hundred, give or take
a few.” And his smile, this time, is a pale ghost of a grin.
TIMAS ON THE JOB
S IX or seven hundred werewolves on the loose, in the hands of a maniac most likely in league with Lord Loss. Nice! Demons rarely
have time to kill many people because they can only stay on this world for a few minutes, while the window they crossed through
remains open. But hundreds of werewolves, divided into groups of ten or twelve, set free in dozens of cities around the globe…
If each killed only five people, I make that three and a half thousand fatalities. But it’s more likely they’d kill ten times
that number, maybe more.
We’re in Antoine’s office on the eleventh floor. It used to be Prae Athim’s. It’s a large room, but with twelve of us it’s
a tight fit. Nobody’s said anything since we came in. We’ve been looking through photos of the
specimens
that Antoine gave us, studying the data that he has on file.
I know from my own brush with
small numbers, but Prae increased the birth rate. Some people wondered why, but nobody challenged her. Prae was an exemplary
director. We were sure she had good reasons for implementing the changes.
“A few months ago, she began making startling requests. She wanted to close down the programs and terminate all specimens.”
“You mean kill all the werewolves?” Shark frowns.
“Yes. She said a new strain of the disease had developed and spread. We couldn’t tell which were infected. If left to mutate
and evolve, the strain might be passed to ordinary humans. She wanted to remove them to a secure area of her choosing, where
they’d be safely disposed of.
“Nobody believed her.” Antoine’s face is grave. “There were too many holes in her story, no facts to support her theory. She
argued fiercely, threatened to resign, called in every favor. But we weren’t convinced. We insisted on more time to conduct
our own experiments. Prae was allowed to continue in her post, but I was assigned to monitor her and approve her decisions.
“Just over six weeks ago, Prae Athim disappeared. She left work on a Thursday and nobody has seen her since. That night, operatives
acting on her behalf subdued regular staff, tranquilized the specimens, removed them from their cells, and made off with them.
We’ve no idea where they went. We’ve devoted all of our resources to tracking them down but so far… nothing.”
Antoine smiles shakily. “I hoped she’d followed through on her plan to destroy the specimens. That would have been a tragic
loss, but at least it would have meant we didn’t have to worry about them. Now it seems my fears — that she had an ulterior
motive — have been borne out. If some of them were sent to attack Dervish Grady, we’re dealing with a far greater problem.
We have to find the missing specimens as swiftly as possible. The consequences if we don’t are staggering.”
“I’m not that worried about the werewolves,” Shark sniffs. “They’re secondary to finding Prae Athim. I mean, how many are
we talking about? A few dozen?”
Antoine laughs sharply. “You don’t understand. I told you earlier — Prae Athim has worked in this unit for twenty-six years.
But this is just one unit of many. We have bases on every continent and have been running similar programs in each. Prae didn’t
just take the specimens from this complex. She took them from
everywhere.
There’s not one left.”
Shark’s expression darkens. “How many?” he croaks.
“I don’t have an exact number to give,” Antoine says. “Some of the projects were under Prae’s personal supervision, and records
have been deleted from our system. It’s impossible to be accurate.”
“Roughly,” Shark growls.
Antoine gulps, then says quietly, so that we have to strain to hear, “Somewhere between six and seven hundred, give or take
a few.” And his smile, this time, is a pale ghost of a grin.
TIMAS ON THE JOB
S IX or seven hundred werewolves on the loose, in the hands of a maniac most likely in league with Lord Loss. Nice! Demons rarely
have time to kill many people because they can only stay on this world for a few minutes, while the window they crossed through
remains open. But hundreds of werewolves, divided into groups of ten or twelve, set free in dozens of cities around the globe…
If each killed only five people, I make that three and a half thousand fatalities. But it’s more likely they’d kill ten times
that number, maybe more.
We’re in Antoine’s office on the eleventh floor. It used to be Prae Athim’s. It’s a large room, but with twelve of us it’s
a tight fit. Nobody’s said anything since we came in. We’ve been looking through photos of the
specimens
that Antoine gave us, studying the data that he has on file.
I know from my own brush with
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