Hellboy: Unnatural Selection(58)

"I demand nothing, because justice will arise as a natural consequence of my actions. I do not want for anything, because I have the whole new world at my fingertips. This is simply a warning and a plea. The warning is that these creatures, newly returned from Memory and angry at their timeless incarceration, will be untamable and invincible. It is a wild, wild world that the sun will rise on tomorrow, but one that will last forever. Today the earth started getting better. The plea is simply this: let me finish what I have started. Fighting against me will lengthen the process of transition, and each day that fight continues will cost the lives of many more. People will die, and that is a sad truth of todays destiny, but it is all for the good. Throw away your guns, deny your governments, and this war will be brief and targeted. Some of those who die will deserve it; others may not. But I hope that the casualties will be light in comparison with what my victory will give: a new world that can breathe; a place where your children can live in hope, not fear; and, eventually, a humanity that stops eating itself and the planet it calls home.

"This is not revenge. I am not mad. I am simply saving the world. I don't ask for or expect your thanks, but I hope that in the future you will see that I was right.

"If governments had acted on my advice twenty-five years ago — instead of murdering my wife, sending me into hiding, and shattering any hopes my experiments may have raised — this violent transition would not have been necessary.

"Whatever happens over the next few days is not my fault."



* * *





Heathrow Airport, London, England — 1997



"IT'S GETTING WORSE," Tom Manning said. His voice crackling over the speakerphone was tired and jaded, and to Hellboy it sounded as though he'd already given up.

"What's happened?" Liz asked. "What have we missed?"

There was nothing for a while, and Liz glanced at Hellboy. He shrugged, smiled, tried to make light of something that was feeling heavier all the time. He had never felt so helpless. Every time he heard about another cryptid sighting, he wanted to jet off and sort it out, but he couldn't be everywhere at once. It was tearing him apart.

"Well, to start with, Kate was right. It is Benedict Blake. He issued a statement two hours ago, and it's set the media alight. Everyone wants to know who Benedict Blake is, and everyone wants to know whether his claims are true, and who's to blame, and what we're going to do about it."

" 'We' meaning ... ?" Hellboy asked.

"The United States. He claims his wife was killed by the government, and there are a dozen countries — the U.K. included — demanding the truth."

"And the truth is?"

"Hellboy, Kate told you what she thought, and I'm with her. But right now blame will get us nowhere. While the governments fight it out, we have to find Blake and stop whatever it is he has planned."

"You said it was getting worse," Liz said. "I think the word you used was War."

The speakerphone crackled again, and Hellboy had a crazy image of his boss crumpling up a piece of paper in front of his microphone and saying, "You're breaking up, sorry ... break ... " Then Tom coughed and sighed, and even electronically Hellboy could hear the directors weariness. "When you read Blake's statement, you'll see what I mean. It's like a declaration of war, reality against mythology. Several countries have already tried military attacks against these things. Spain and Portugal. Greece. North Korea."

"And what happened?" Hellboy asked, but he could guess the answer.

"Spain lost fifteen fighter aircraft against a swarm of harpies. More than a hundred Greek soldiers have drowned trying to deal with supposed mermaids, and our satellites tell us that the North Koreans lost an armored brigade."

"What were they fighting?" Liz asked.

"I don't know," Tom said. "But whatever it was, they're blaming South Korea and massing their forces along the borders."

"Oh, come on," Hellboy said. "Tom, can you send the Blake statement to us?"

"I faxed it a few minutes ago. Should be waiting for you with our people at the airport."

"Who's meeting us?"

"Two of our guys from the U.S. embassy. Don't worry, they're not diplomats or secret service. One of them is a sensitive from Boston, the other is a Brit ghost hunter we've worked with a couple of times before."