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- Хироши Сакуразака
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- Стр. 113/206
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If
DNA
determined
a
person
’
s
height
or
the
shape
of
their
face
,
why
not
their
less
obvious
traits
too
?
Our
fathers
and
mothers
,
grandfathers
and
grandmothers
-
ultimately
every
individual
was
the
product
of
the
blood
that
flowed
in
the
veins
of
those
who
came
before
.
An
impartial
machine
could
read
that
information
and
assign
a
value
to
it
,
as
simple
as
measuring
height
or
weight
.
What
if
someone
who
had
the
potential
to
discover
a
formula
to
unlock
the
mysteries
of
the
universe
wanted
to
become
a
pulp
fiction
writer
?
What
if
someone
who
had
the
potential
to
create
unparalleled
gastronomic
delicacies
had
his
heart
set
on
civil
engineering
?
There
is
what
we
desire
to
do
,
and
what
we
are
able
to
do
.
When
those
two
things
don
’
t
coincide
,
which
path
should
we
pursue
to
find
happiness
?
When
Rita
was
young
,
she
had
a
gift
for
two
things
:
playing
horseshoes
and
pretending
to
cry
.
The
thought
that
her
DNA
contained
the
potential
to
become
a
great
warrior
couldn
’
t
have
been
further
from
her
mind
.
Before
she
lost
her
parents
when
she
was
fifteen
,
she
was
an
ordinary
kid
who
didn
’
t
like
her
carrot
-
top
hair
.
She
wasn
’
t
particularly
good
at
sports
,
and
her
grades
in
junior
high
school
were
average
.
There
was
nothing
about
her
dislike
of
bell
peppers
and
celery
that
set
her
apart
.
Only
her
ability
to
feign
crying
was
truly
exceptional
.
She
couldn
’
t
fool
her
mother
,
whose
eagle
eyes
saw
through
her
every
ruse
,
but
with
anyone
else
she
’
d
have
them
eating
out
of
her
hand
after
a
few
seconds
of
waterworks
.
Rita
’
s
only
other
distinguishing
feature
was
the
red
hair
she
’
d
inherited
from
her
grandmother
.
Everything
else
about
her
was
exactly
like
any
other
of
over
three
hundred
million
Americans
.
Her
family
lived
in
Pittsfield
,
a
small
town
just
east
of
the
Mississippi
River
.
Not
the
Pittsfield
in
Florida
,
not
the
Pittsfield
in
Massachusetts
,
but
the
Pittsfield
in
Illinois
.
Her
father
was
the
youngest
child
in
a
family
of
martial
artists
-
mostly
jujutsu
.
But
Rita
didn
’
t
want
to
go
to
a
military
academy
or
play
sports
.
She
wanted
to
stay
at
home
and
raise
pigs
.
With
the
exception
of
the
young
men
who
signed
up
with
the
UDF
,
life
for
the
people
of
Pittsfield
was
peaceful
.
It
was
an
easy
place
to
forget
that
humanity
was
in
the
middle
of
a
war
against
a
strange
and
terrible
foe
.
Rita
didn
’
t
mind
living
in
a
small
town
and
never
seeing
anyone
but
the
same
four
thousand
people
or
so
.
Listening
to
the
squeals
of
the
pigs
day
in
and
day
out
could
get
a
little
tiresome
,
but
the
air
was
clean
and
the
sky
wide
.
She
always
had
a
secret
spot
where
she
could
go
to
daydream
and
look
for
four
-
leaf
clovers
.
An
old
retired
trader
had
a
small
general
store
in
town
.
He
sold
everything
from
foodstuffs
and
hardware
to
little
silver
crosses
that
were
supposed
to
keep
the
Mimics
away
.
He
carried
all
-
natural
coffee
beans
you
couldn
’
t
find
anyplace
else
.
The
Mimic
attacks
had
turned
most
of
the
arable
land
in
developing
countries
to
desert
,
leaving
luxury
foods
like
natural
coffee
,
tea
,
and
tobacco
extremely
difficult
to
come
by
.
They
’
d
been
replaced
with
substitutes
or
artificially
flavored
tastealikes
that
usually
failed
.
