by The Eurostar
"Edulcore! And Mr. Turner! I am glad you made it to La Perdita!" Dr. Henry Quantos seems very happy to see us. We left his cabin several days ago, without any notice, while he slept. It was for his own safety, as I feared some EPS agent could have harmed him while trying to seize us. Luckily, it seems none of them were ever able to find us.
"Hi, Doc. Finally someone I know. I was expecting to find a lot more friend, here."
"The parade has brought some outside, and the others have to deal with the scars from the last adventure. It was tough, I believe, at least from what I've heard."
"Pretty good place you got," I say politely, looking at Doc and at the girl, who is still sitting behind her desk. In truth, I don't like the place. It's too... modern, too neat. Since the moment we left the EPS, I felt at home only when I was in the wilderness, up in the mountains, rowing on the river, crossing the deserts. This building is only concrete, glass, steel, and plastic. But, at least, the island seems a paradise.
"I'm sorry I can't introduce you to Kit Piper, our president and financial adviser," says Doc Quantos in a friendly tone. "He's apparently gone for the day. You'll have to put up with a little bit of bureaucracy, just a form to fill out. In the meantime, I can show you the building, and you can choose among the spare rooms."
"Well, Doc, that would be extremely nice, but I am sure that this nice lady can do the same later," I say. "I wouldn't waste your time with such a trivial thing. But if you would help me, I have questions only you can answer."
Quantos frowns a little. "Questions?"
"Yeah. At the EPS, Walker made surgery over my body, and my powers disappeared. Remember, I told you that in the cabin, days ago."
"Sure, I remember."
"Well..." I say, and cause feathers to sprout out of my arms.
The eyes of Quantos widens, and a slight, nearly unnoticeable smile appears on his lips. "Quite interesting, son," he whispers, delicately stroking my feathers. "You want to know how you got these?"
"I especially would know why, but I fear only Walker should respond."
Quantos produces a small syringe. "I need a small sample of your blood..." He takes a little pair of scissors from one of his pockets. "...and a small piece of one of your little feathers... Done."
Doc leaves, and I turn toward Turner. "At least maybe this mystery would be resolved." Then the idea that Turner maybe knows something hits my mind. "Ehy, only now I notice that I never asked you about these powers! Have you ever heard anything from Walker, before he did this to me?"
"Nope," he says tersely. Then he realizes that I'd like a more articulate answer, and continues, "There was the Revolution, there was no time to hear rumors. But I don't think Walker would have given you new powers purposefully. It wouldn't suit him. He must have performed some kind of genetic recipes on you, and that's an after-effect he wasn't able to anticipate."
The time Quantos is away seems surprisingly short. "Well, the results cannot be considered definitive. I'll need to do more analyses, not only on blood samples, but all over you. In the meantime, I had the composition of your DNA scanned and sent to my computer in Vancouver, the only Malvan-X mainframe still surviving. I found out something interesting."
"Tell me, Doc," I say, sitting on the desk.
"Your DNA has been nearly completely wiped from your original Class Alpha metagene... almost. Some strands still survive, and they are intimately interlocked from genetic material that isn't human."
"Alien?" I ask, my eyes wide open.
"No, no, only not human -- of a bird. To be correct, of Circaetus Gallicus, the short-toed eagle, an old-world eagle."
I am speechless.
"You see, the eagle DNA is what's responsible for the feathers. Have you experienced any other effects? Like enhanced vision and hearing, extremely good aim, augmented resilience?"
"All of the above."
"The remnants of your metagene is what controls the density of the feathers, making them appear and disappear, and it's also what decreases the mass of your body, making it easier for your wings to sustain you."
"But why? Why making me an eagle-man? He spoken to me about canceling my powers, not changing them. This makes no sense."
"Well, like you said, only Walker could tell you. But from what little I know about him, when he was a well-known geneticist, he has a very brilliant mind that follows unexpected paths to arrive at impressive results. You said your little clone... your son... is in the hands of Walker, right?"
"Right. But why...?"
"I am sure that the wings and the other powers are something he was not really expecting, though I can't be sure about it."
While he said that, Turner looks at me and raises his eyebrows, as if to say, "I told you the same."
"But making you an eagle-man does somewhat make sense. He doesn't want you to retrieve the child? Well, the eagle he used to alter you is called in English the short-toed eagle, a descriptive name, but rather modest for a bird so big and beautiful. In your language, it's called biancone, for the completely white belly. But the name that's used in most of the languages of its range is much more appropriate. It is the serpent eagle. You see, raptors specialize in hunting and eating serpents exclusively."
"You mean...?"
"...That there is an innate aversion in serpents for this eagle, and I suspect..."
"...That Walker tried to make me a serpent eagle so that Eddie would feel the same aversion for me?"
"Basically, yes. Machiavellian, for sure."
I don't say a word. I don't have any words. Walker has beaten me even this time, like always.