Science and Sorcery by Christopher Nuttall Page A

already getting out of hand.
     
    A final possibility had occurred to him, one that bothered him more than he wanted to admit.  His time had had almost no technology; magic had handled almost everything.  But...what would happen if science and magic started to collide?  It was easy to imagine spells that would damage technology; indeed, it was possible that the presence of mana had been deterring the development of science.  What would happen now that the mana was flowing back into the world?
     
    He stood up, picking up his notes and stuffing them into a bag he’d taken off a thug who had tried to rob him.  Any footpad from back home would have known better than to try to steal something from a clay-man, but these footpads didn't even have the ability to sense magic, let alone the glamour that hid Golem’s true face from watching humans.  He’d snapped the man’s legs and stolen everything in his pockets, along with his bag and coat.  No doubt he would learn a few lessons as he crawled to hospital.  The healers here seemed to be far more capable than non-magical healers had been back home.
     
    One report had attracted him, so much that he’d read it time and time again.  A policeman, armed with one of the strange guns , had killed a werewolf.  And that should have been impossible; werewolves could be killed by silver and fire and beheading, but not tiny slugs of metal.  Unless, of course...lycanthropy wasn't the only magical condition that might have been passed down from the era of magic to the return of mana .  It was just possible...
     
    With a new objective in mind, Golem strode out of the library and headed towards the river.  There were some spells he had to cast, and then he'd know where to look for the policeman.  And if he was lucky, he would have his first ally.
     
    ***
    “Charming place,” Matt muttered.  He’d never been on a military base before, even when he’d arrested soldiers who had been caught drinking themselves into a stupor, or fighting with protesters who thought that the team ‘peaceful protest’ included throwing insults, stones or even brandishing live weapons.  “Do you really think we can do some good here?”
     
    “I very much hope so,” Caitlyn said.  She sounded on edge too, as if there was something wrong about the building.  But then, Matt had never liked hospitals of any sort, even when he’d been escorting wounded arrestees to be treated before taking them back to jail.  “My boss had to call in a few favours to convince the hospital director to allow us to experiment here.”
     
    She grinned over at Kaleen, who looked back at her nervously.  Matt wouldn't have taken her for an EMT if he’d met her in the streets; she looked barely sixteen, with long dark hair that framed a brown face and a rather shy smile.  But she was a qualified doctor who had been working in an emergency department when she’d discovered that she could heal the sick simply by laying hands on their wounds.  She’d reported her powers, proved them to a whole series of sceptical doctors, and then found herself forwarded into Caitlyn’s care.  Matt was mildly surprised that she hadn’t been scooped up by one of the hospitals in Washington, perhaps the one that handled the President, but perhaps they were still doubtful of the long-term effects of her treatment.
     
    “Welcome,” a voice said.  Matt had expected a military doctor to be in uniform, but he wore a white coat over a white shirt and trousers.  The only thing about him that suggested the military was the ID badge he wore on his coat.  “I am Doctor Hamish Watson.  Is this the young girl you mentioned?”
     
    “Yes,” Caitlyn said briskly, as Kaleen shrank away from Watson.  “I understand that you have patients who need treatment?”
     
    “Right this way,” Watson said.  He led them down a long white corridor and into a small office.  “You do understand that whatever happens here cannot be