So close now. We began in small laboratories, in second-rate colleges so desperate for government funding that they wouldn't ask too many questions. We were the Department of Scientific Intelligence. We called ourselves "The Shop." We broke new ground in human genetics. We were trying to unleash the power of the human mind. We were trying to create human weapons. We succeeded. We made Charlie. My girl. She lit fires. With her mind. She burned down our labs. She burned off my skin. She left me for dead. She left me. She vanished. We kept on going. We moved into the private sector in the '90s, and changed the name to "Systems Operations," and we kept up the good work. This time we did it right. We don't have one child with superhuman powers. We have 6. The company wants to use them. The company wants to sell their genetic codes. The company wants to redefine war. The company wants to turn a profit. Only one person stands in the company's way. One loose end we are desperate to find. One little girl. She's grown by now. I wonder what she's like. I wonder what's she's done with the life I gave her. The company wants to find her. The company wants to kill her. I have other ideas. I don't care about war. I don't care about profit. I don't care about revenge. I just want what's best for my girl. I just want her to reach her true potential. I know it's in her. All she needs is a little push. People have accused me of "playing God." Untrue. I do not want to play God. I want to make Him. —John Rainbird Feb. 25, 2002