Abigail rose, the movement flowing and graceful. "I believe her strikes will grow more and more impersonal. And because she is in a fragile emotional state, I believe the damage she inflicts will grow exponentially." She turned to face Aeron.

"She will strike against us all, one way or another."

Aeron smiled pleasantly, although it wasn't pleasant to see. "She will not last that long."

There was much activity about the castle, and Susan was curious as to what could cause such commotion. When Ryan strode into the room completely unannounced, she realized the cause. Edward was nonplussed, but she did not know if that was because he had expected Ryan, or simply because he was accustomed to her unpredictability.

Ryan sat down at her desk and began shuffling paperwork. Without looking up, she addressed Edward.

"Are these the census figures I requested?"

Edward moved to her side. "They are not a sampling per se, but they are probably more accurate than a traditional census."

Ryan glanced up at him in question. He leaned down and picked up one particular chart. "Our Kind are notoriously secretive, which makes it difficult to locate them. However, using some very advanced population equations and computer modeling, we have determined what we believe to be an accurate number."

Ryan thumbed through the paperwork. "How many?"

Edward pulled a particular chart from the stack. "Approximately 50,000, worldwide."

"That's impossible."

Both Ryan and Edward looked up at the skepticism from the human occupant of the room. Susan had the grace to appear embarra.s.sed at eavesdropping, but did not relent.

"There is no way that there are that few of your Kind on this planet. As long-lived as you are, with no natural enemies, your Kind should be the dominant species on earth."

"Well," Edward said mildly, "I would make that argument regardless of our number, but I see your point." He picked up another chart and Susan drew close.

"It is not entirely true that we have no natural enemies, because our Kind are both predator and prey internally within the species. And unlike human beings, we enjoy killing our young."

Susan swallowed at the reminder as Edward continued. "Which brings up some interesting dynamics in terms of population control. Our Kind cannot reproduce when young, nor when old, much like humans. The window of opportunity between when One is powerful enough to initiate Change but not so powerful that the human is destroyed is small, ranging from a few decades to perhaps a century in extreme cases."

"Yes," Susan agreed, "But even a few decades is more than enough time to create hundreds, if not thousands of offspring."

Ryan nodded. "If in fact that was a driving force for us. But unlike human beings, our reproduction is not linked to desire, and Sharing with humans is not that pleasant an experience. Nor do we have the evolutionary drive to pa.s.s on our genes because we do not face the specter of death." Ryan thought fleetingly of her father, and her expression darkened.

Edward continued. "And you must remember that the population rate is a function of both birth rate and attrition, and although those who survive their infancy are essentially immortal, the attrition rate prior to that is stratospherically high." Edward sighed, as if it were an unfortunate fact of life. "We enjoy killing more than creating."

Susan began to understand. "Your population curve, then must be a steep pyramid."

"Very steep," Edward replied, "Although it's not exactly a pyramid, but more like an unbalanced hourgla.s.s, with the bulk of the sand at the bottom. The vast majority of our Kind at any given time are Young Ones. There are less than four hundred currently occupying the Middle Ground, those capable of reproducing." Edward nodded toward Ryan, "And as mentioned earlier, there is no guarantee that all four hundred are actively reproducing."

Susan was fascinated. "Then how many Old Ones are there?"

Edward was thoughtful. "If you use the term 'Old One' as anyone who is too powerful to initiate Change and has pa.s.sed into immortality, there are perhaps fewer than four thousand."

Susan looked at the golden-haired woman. "And how many are there like Ryan?"

Edward smiled. "I would argue only one. But if you are referring to those at her level of power, such as Marilyn and Abigail, there are fewer than a hundred within striking distance, and perhaps two dozen who are even close."

Susan ran the numbers through her head, going back to an earlier thought. "Then that means that almost all of the 45,000 Young Ones who are alive now will die before they reach maturity."

Edward nodded. "Exactly. The attrition rate exceeds 98%. They will not survive complications from their Change, they may be killed by someone older, they may kill one another, or something will befall them before they can pa.s.s into immortality. But very few will survive to reproduce."

Ryan had been quiet for awhile, deep in thought. But now she spoke quietly.

"I now understand the significance of the cleansing. It is an unparalleled opportunity to shape the future of our Kind." She paused, her expression dark, "Or to end it entirely."

There was black humor in her words. "For example, if I were to strike at all the Young Ones of Aeron's line, there would be no one to pa.s.s into the middle ground to reproduce, and his line would effectively end."

Edward thought through this strategy. "Except there are already those occupying the middle ground who are of Aeron's descent who could create more Young Ones, and who cannot be killed."

Ryan tapped her fingernail on her teeth. "In theory," she said, "Only in theory."

Edward shifted uncomfortably.

Ryan abruptly stood, and Edward stood out of protocol. "I am going to rest here awhile, then I will leave for j.a.pan." She nodded to Susan, then turned on her heel. She was halfway to the door when she stopped, turning to Edward. "By the way, you need to adjust your figures downward by two thousand."

Ryan disappeared, and Edward sat down heavily, surprising Susan. She moved to the chair across from him. She was quiet for a moment, respecting his mood. She finally spoke.

"I am not certain that Victor offered me a gift, with a mortality rate of 98%."

Edward glanced up at her shrewdly. "You have only to survive your Change, Dr. Ryerson. None of the other perils will befall you."

This thought did not bring Susan much comfort. The two were quiet for a long moment, then Susan asked Edward a question that caused him a similar level of discomfort.

"So how did you and Ryan meet?"

Ryan and Victor led their horses by the reins, they themselves on foot. They had arrived in the American colonies a few months before, had explored most of what was inhabited, and now were drawn to the wilderness that unfolded endlessly to the west. Towns were growing fewer and farther between on their journey, and they debated leaving the horses entirely, knowing they could travel further on foot. Once they were beyond civilization, no one would question their lack of supplies or choice of transportation.

Victor c.o.c.ked his head to one side, and Ryan sniffed the air. She could smell smoke from a distant fire, and could hear the faintest sounds of life ahead of them. They were approaching one of the few remaining towns on their chosen route. They remounted their horses, allowing them to pick their way through the forest.

It was apparent as they drew close that some large-scale commotion was occurring. As they exited the forest, they had a clear view across the river. A mob of people were carrying a bound man toward the water.

"I wonder what that unfortunate soul did," Victor mused, idly curious.

Ryan rested her hand on the neck of her horse. "Guessing by the intricate way he is bound, opposite hand to opposite foot, I would say he has been charged with witchcraft."

Victor glanced over at his charge, amused. "Oh, that's right, I forgot you have personal experience in such matters."

Ryan's expression darkened. "Hmm, yes."

Victor allowed his gaze to caress his young companion, quite fetchingly dressed as a boy. He turned his attention back to the drama unfolding across the river.

One man, apparently a preacher, was waving a bible so frenetically he accidentally struck the bound man in the face, causing the man's nose to begin bleeding profusely. Without much more fanfare, the mob carried him into the river and tossed him. He hit the water and immediately sank like a rock.

Ryan shrugged. "Well, you know what that means."

Victor glanced over at his young companion, suspicious at her tone.

"He's innocent," she said, driving her heels into her horse's flanks.

The horse bolted down the bank of the river, leaping into the current. Victor watched as the powerful steed charged through the water. He was always amazed at the battles Ryan chose.

The mob on the opposite bank were stunned at the sight of the striking golden-haired stranger on the jet-black horse barreling through the water as if it were air. A very primitive fear began to develop in all of them, even more primitive than the hysteria of the witch hunt. Their fear grew when the boy stood, balanced effortlessly on the back of his horse, then dove, knifing into the briskly moving current and disappearing beneath the surface.

The horse was still coming at them, full speed, and as it neared the bank, it reared up, kicking its flailing hoofs at them. They fell backward in fear, but the horse turned on its rear hoofs and began galloping back the way it came. As it neared the spot where the boy had entered the water, an arm broke the surface and wrapped itself about the stallion's neck. In a feat of enormous strength, the boy pulled himself back up onto the horse's back, dragging the bound man upward with him. The horse never broke stride, and the boy and the man were free from the water, riding off in the opposite direction.

Victor sighed, then pulled a knife from his belt. He threw it full force at Ryan, and the bound man's eyes widened at the incoming missile. He was astonished when his rescuer plucked the weapon from the sky, slicing his ropes with a downward swipe. The man was then able to straddle the horse properly, and clung to the young stranger's back.

Ryan laughed, entertained by the entire situation as she rode by Victor at breakneck speed. He turned his horse and spurred it, amused at her antics despite himself. They crashed through the forest at a perilous speed until finally Ryan reigned her horse in, wheeling it around. Victor brought his own horse to a halt as Ryan slid to the ground, still laughing.

"Well, that was fun," she said, finally regaining some semblance of control. Victor dismounted with slightly more dignity than his unruly companion. He patted his horse's flanks, calming it.

The man stared down at the two, wide-eyed. It seemed that they had forgotten all about him. He realized he was still wearing a gag, although his hands were no longer tied. He removed the filthy rag from his mouth, and it slipped from his nerveless fingers. The movement caught the dark-haired one's attention, and he glanced up.

"You may dismount," the dark-haired one said mildly, and it was not a request.

The man slid to the ground, stumbling because of the lack of circulation in his legs. The boy caught him, amus.e.m.e.nt still evident in his eyes.

It was unlike him, but the man was being moved by forces he had never encountered, by emotions with which he was unfamiliar. Without preamble, he fell to his knees in front of the golden-haired one. He grasped the boy's hand tightly in his own, and there was a fierce light in his eyes.

"I will serve you forever, my lord" the man said, his voice surprisingly educated. "And while you live, I will serve no other."

Ryan glanced down at the man, surprised at the refinement of his speech. She extricated herself from him, still mildly amused at the entire situation.

Victor pulled the pack from the back of his horse, speaking over his shoulder with mild reproach.

"Now look what you've done."

Susan tapped the pipette onto the slide and slid it beneath the microscope. She leaned forward to peer into the eyepieces, but stopped when she saw Ryan in the doorway. She was surprised because she knew that Ryan had been with her father.

Ryan pushed away from the doorframe. "I understand you coaxed Edward into revealing our first meeting."

Susan smiled. "Yes, very interesting."

Ryan picked up some odd piece of medical equipment, gazed at it with some consternation, then replaced it. "You should feel honored. He doesn't tell that story to just anyone."

"I think he was afraid that if he didn't tell me, you would."

Ryan smiled a wicked smile. "Entirely possible." Her expression sobered once more. "Have you learned anything new regarding my father's condition?"

Susan leaned back. "Well, I don't know how applicable it is, but I keep learning new and interesting things about your anatomy. Do you know anything about mitochondria?"

Ryan settled into an office chair. "I'm sure you're going educate me."

Susan smiled. "Mitochondria are tiny structures inside of cells that produce energy. They have their own pool of DNA, possibly because they were once an entirely separate creature millions of years ago. One theory holds that these creatures were absorbed by our predecessors and began producing energy."

Once again, Ryan was interested despite herself.

Susan continued. "The DNA inside the mitochondria mutates much faster than nuclear DNA, sometimes 10-20 times faster. One school of thought is that when the mitochondria make energy, there are left-over oxygen molecules that lack an electron and set off a lethal chain reaction that damages other cells. In popular literature, these oxygen molecules are called 'free radicals.' Common wisdom holds that these free radicals damage nearby DNA, causing mutations. The mitochondria are then less able to produce energy and slowly begin dying."

"Okay," Ryan said slowly, "I'm with you so far. And I'm guessing once again that mine are somehow different?"

Susan sighed. "That's the understatement of the year. The energy created in your mitochondria dwarfs that of a normal human being, and the mitochondria create that energy perfectly without throwing off any free radicals or by-products whatsoever."

Ryan was thoughtful. "So, if common wisdom is correct, my mitochondrial DNA mutates very little."

"Yes," Susan said, "And that is in fact the case. Your DNA is identical to what it probably was 700 years ago. Which would be almost impossible to tell were it not for another bizarre feature of your anatomy."

"Which is?" Ryan asked, amused at the description.

"You have Victor's mitochondrial DNA."

Ryan did not understand the significance of this statement, so Susan explained.

"Mitochondrial DNA is pa.s.sed entirely down the maternal line. Victor should have his mother's, and you should have your mother's. But your mitochondrial DNA is identical to his."

Susan shook her head. "Over ninety-nine percent of mitochondrial DNA is pa.s.sed through the mother under normal circ.u.mstances. But not yours."

Ryan was quiet for a long moment, then spoke. "I wonder if it's possible that some of my DNA was overwritten in my Change." Susan stared at her. It was a brilliant hypothesis, one she hadn't considered. "I don't know," Susan said truthfully. "But if I can find out, I will certainly let you know." "Is there a particular reason why you were looking at the mitochondria?" Ryan asked.

Susan nodded. "Many significant human diseases are caused by some type of malfunction in the mitochondria. Mitochondria are so integral to energy production and general health, I thought it might be a good place to start looking. The problem is that I have no baseline for Victor, other than you, so it is difficult for me to a.s.sess mutation."

"Because other than me, you have nothing to compare it to," Ryan finished slowly. "So you are a.s.suming it hasn't changed thus far because Victor's mitochondrial DNA is still the same as mine."

"Exactly," Susan said. "It's not the approach I would choose, but I really have no other choice. And at this point, I'm a.s.suming it's a dead end."

Ryan considered her words. "Because Victor is ill and I am not."

Susan nodded.

Ryan returned to her earlier train of thought. "Hypothetically, if my DNA was overwritten in my Change, is it possible that it's still being overwritten when Victor and I Share blood, and that's why it's still the same?"

Susan had the grace to appear embarra.s.sed. "Um, no. Unless in vivo is significantly different than in vitro."

Ryan interpreted her meaning. "You mixed our blood in a test tube."

Susan nodded. "Some really fascinating chemical reactions occurring when that happens, and I could spend a lifetime looking into those, but DNA mutation is not one of them. That's not to say that it didn't happen at some point in time in the past. But it's not happening now."

Ryan nodded, then abruptly stood. "I will let you return to your work. It sounds as if you have a lot of promising avenues to pursue."

Ryan gave one of her chivalrous bows, and then Susan watched her leave. Susan returned to her paperwork, thinking with irony that for once she wished she had a few less avenues available.

CHAPTER 11.