Chapter 1

Few crimes make us fear for the evolution of our species. I am watching one right now. In a darkened room in the District 8 Police Station with my good friend FBI agent Kimberley Jones, a forty-two inch Toshiba LCD monitor hangs high up on a wall, out of the reach of villains.

The video which I’m sharing with the FBI uses two industrial quality cameras which between them seamlessly provide all the tricks of zoom, angle, pan et cetera and I am told that at least two technicians must have been involved. The colors are excellent thanks to however many millions of pixels which contribute to their subtle shading; we are looking at a product of high civilization unknown to our forefathers. At the end of the movie, though, tough guy Kimberley bursts into tears, as I’d rather hoped she would. I did. She turns her head to stare at me wild eyed.

“Tell me it isn’t real.”

“We have the body,” I say.

“Oh god,” Kimberley says. “Oh sweet Jesus, I’ve seen things bloodier, but never anything this daemonic. I thought I’d seen everything.” She stands up. “I need air.”

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