The ultramodern, giant-sized recumbent turbo-bike with two side-by-side bucket seats whirred along. Minutes later, York stepped out at the station three floors below Seville. He paused to take a deep breath. His gut tightened. In a flash of self-assessment he rarely allowed himself, he realized his tension wasn’t because of the breakneck speed of the spinner, nor the fact he was about to be nose to nose with anxious parents. Nope. It was the idea of seeing Kindra again. He hadn’t seen her since dropping her off to accept her award, only checked in via communicator to find out how her search for a counter to the virus was going.
The strobe lights of the double-wheel transporter dimmed as York moved away from the spinner. He advanced through the tunnel and took the elevator to street level. As soon as he exited into the sunshine, a woman hugging a child to her chest cornered him.
“Please, I need to be seen now.” The woman clutched his arm. “D-don’t…don’t let my baby die.”
Memories of his own child crept in, and York stared blankly at the woman. He shook his head, forcing the transposed memory of his ex-wife and their ill son from the here and now.
“Ma’am, you should stay in line. There is no help in this direction.” Gently, he guided the woman back to the others.
He slipped into the shadows of the building and approached a recessed side door. With a flip of his wrist, he extracted his ID and flashed it over the computer scanner. The door opened.
“Good morning, Lieutenant Richmond,” Comp Nine said. “How may I assist you?”
“Where is Dr. B-Zaika?”
“You will find her in the main lobby. Go down the hall and take your second right.”
“Excellent. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
York spotted Kindra immediately upon entering the lobby. The crowd tried to swarm her, yet she managed them with expert calm as she gave instructions to the next father in line. “Take a seat and give Comp Nine your information. When you’re finished, B-Watson”—she indicated across the lobby to where B-Watson shuffled people to the next station—“will give you directions.”
Parents sat at desks in cubicles that were spaced out across the right-hand side of the lobby. They clutched their children as a feminine computer-generated face smiled from a monitor, interviewing each parent.
The drone of voices filled the room as Comp Nine asked questions and parents answered. York was several steps from Kindra when a mother grabbed her arm. Kindra winced and tried to break the woman’s hold.
“There’s got to be a faster way,” the mother said.
Kindra forced a smile. “The quicker you answer the questions and are screened, the sooner we can help your child.”
Within reach now, York placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder. “This way, ma’am.”
Reluctantly, the mother carrying a child with sandy-blond hair moved to an empty cubicle even as she shrugged off York’s touch.
Another Seville employee stepped toward Kindra. “How can I help, Doctor?”
Kindra wiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Take over here.”
The female employee nodded.
In a few grand strides, York caught up with Kindra. Together, they walked past B-Watson, who glared at them. York’s chest expanded, infused with growing admiration for the courage she displayed. She was no pushover.
The left side of the lobby served as a makeshift infirmary. Small children occupied beds while parents and medical technicians moved around them. It practically broke his heart as little faces turned to him as he followed Kindra through the space. He guessed the children simply didn’t realize what was going on or the danger they were in. Mothers and fathers held their hands while nurses drew blood samples. The beds were already full, and with each second that passed, the sense of panic in the lobby escalated. Behind them, parents dashed to the front of the line, pushing and shouting.
“Do they know what this is?” one woman shouted.
“Do they have a cure?” another demanded.
Seville was a research center, not a hospital. The staff was ill-equipped to handle such an emergency. York called for police support to help handle the crowd.
This was a horror beyond anything he’d experienced. And the GEIs had been too arrogant to be prepared for it. There were accidents, yes—scrapes and falls and broken bones that needed to be repaired, especially from over-exuberant teens. For the most part, hospitals mainly handled Coders and specialized in treating injuries caused by accidents and performing cloning.
Kindra led the way through automatic doors. This was her turf, her area of expertise. Tension gripped his neck at the idea of having to take a back seat on this one. Waiting wasn’t his strong suit.
When they arrived at their destination in the lab, a team of technicians were busy at work.
York took his cue from Kindra and paused behind a technician to observe over his shoulder. Blood was being analyzed. “D-36,” the tech read aloud.
“Affirmative,” Nine answered.
“D-37.”
“Affirmative.”
“What does that mean?” York asked.
Kindra groaned. “The computer has assigned each child a number, and we just heard two of them testing positive for the virus.”
York held her ragged gaze.
“HERO will compile the results,” she said as she walked to the holographic monitor on the desk.
He dragged over a chair. “Here, sit,” he ordered. She looked exhausted. He imagined that in her perfect life she faced few real difficulties as part of her everyday routine.
With an embarrassed smile, she sagged onto the chair. A second later, he saw her straighten. The woman had pluck, he thought as he grabbed himself a stool.
“What time did they start coming?” he asked.
“There were five families waiting when I arrived this morning. The line has been growing ever since.”
It was noon. “Have you eaten?”
She shook her head, closed her beautiful blue eyes, then opened them. “There isn’t time.”
“You need to maintain your health. Nine, please have two protein shakes delivered to us.”
She glared at him and started to rise. With a hand on her shoulder, he urged her back down. He massaged the knotted muscles in her shoulder and neck with one hand. She wet her lips and sighed. He felt her sag slightly under his hand. When a robot delivered their drinks, she drank hers in silence, looking at him every now and then from beneath her dark lashes.
When they were finished, he asked, “Better?”
She nodded.
“Now what?” he asked, knowing it was time to get back to work.
“Now we find out how bad this really is.” She flexed her long neck from side to side, the same way she’d done in the unity room.
“Nine,” she said. “Pull up the statistics we have gathered thus far. How many children have the same virus as Isabelle?”
“One hundred and seven confirmed cases.”
A punch of breath escaped Kindra. “Oh, God.” She closed her eyes and dipped her chin to her chest.
“Some are at different stages of the virus, but all will expire within a matter of days,” the computer said without inflection. The machine blipped. Typed words appeared on the screen: They will all die…
Then the screen returned to normal.
“What was that?” York asked.
Comp Nine made a woozy sound. “I don’t know. An override occurred.”
“Check the source,” Kindra said.
“I find nothing,” Nine responded.
Her brows furrowed. “I don’t understand. What—”
“A warning,” York said.
“And it means?”
“I’m not sure. It has to be a threat from whoever is behind this.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Well, do you think this virus just happened on its own?”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe anyone would do this intentionally.” Kindra threaded
trembling fingers through her hair. “To children? I can’t possibly develop a cure in time.” Gripped in all-out panic, she felt her heart race as her face filled with heat. “What are we going to do?”
“First, we need to stay calm.” York stood and paced. He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s review the facts. As far as we know, the first case developed in Isabelle. The transfer of the virus had to have come from something the child interacted with. But not just Isabelle. All these other children came in contact with it, too.” He hesitated. “Comp Nine, can the virus spread from child to child?”
“Yes. It is not an airborne pathogen, but it appears to spread through direct contact with an infected person or an infected surface.”
Kindra slid her hands down her legs as if trying to rid them of moisture. “I need to consult my medical journals. It’s been so long since we’ve dealt with any sort of illness that I can’t begin to solve this.”
For her, fear no doubt hindered her superior problem-solving abilities. For him, it was do or die, as the old saying went.
“Wait. Let Comp Nine do the work.” He came to her and stood so close he could feel her body heat. “The other day…with Isabelle, you said…if only…”
Kindra met his gaze. “I know it’s a virus, and I can’t do anything about it yet.”
“No, but you said if only you could freeze her.”
Comprehension struck, her eyes brightened. “Cryogenics. I should have thought of it right away.” She paused, shaking her head. “Yes, if we put the children in a cryogenic state, it will give us more time to develop a cure.”
“It’s the only way.” York felt a glimpse of real hope.
“We’ll need to get Director A-Isaac to issue the order. Nine, please locate the director,” Kindra instructed.
* * *
Director A-Isaac was in the men’s room adjacent to his office. When he exited, Kindra and York halted him. Kindra filled him in on the situation.
A-Isaac shoved his hands into his pockets as his shoulders drew up. “This isn’t going to bode well for Seville. The stock will fall. Employees will be let go.” His expression went from impassive to concerned. “This is going to look bad for the both of us,” he said consolingly.
She blinked and lifted her chin. “Don’t worry about me.”
He nodded.
“We’ve developed a plan,” York said.
Kindra rushed to explain. “We can place the children in a cryogenic state until a vaccine or cure is developed.”
“Cryogenics. No. There are too many children. Hell, the expense alone! Seville couldn’t possibly foot the bill for that.” He glanced from Kindra to York. “It can’t be done.”
Kindra stepped closer to Isaac. She wanted to pound on him, pummel his rigid chest until he saw reason. “I have people on this around the clock. Analysis is running as we speak. But it won’t happen soon enough for these kids. You know that.”
“Director.” York clenched his fists. “We need the time.”
“No.”
They could have been in the Grand Canyon given the way the single word echoed off the walls. Of all the times for A-Isaac to go on a power trip. The timing couldn’t have been worse.
The director smiled confidently. He was a very handsome man, in that cold, controlled sort of way. Was that how other people saw her? As a scientist to whom only the facts mattered?
Sadly, up until a few days ago, she wouldn’t have noticed. Reflecting on the fates of the children—including Brianna—plus York’s opinion of her, she knew something inside her had changed, ripping her out of her own precious world and throwing her into…humanity.
She swallowed hard. “You’re just going to let them die?”
“You’re so smart. I’m confident you’ll find a cure.” He turned to leave.
York lunged forward, stopping his progress. He appeared ready to flatten the other man. “Isaac…”
She held a hand out to stop York and pulled herself to stand taller. “I’ll take this directly to the Committee.”
The director looked outraged. He pursed his lips, then said, “Cryogenics for the ten worst cases. That’s it. So I suggest you speed things along.” He straightened his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go explain this to the Committee.” He began to walk away and then halted. He exhaled sharply, looking back at her. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The sound of A-Isaac’s retreating footfalls smacked of defeat.
“Damn him to hell,” Kindra bit out. “That man is way too caught up in his position.”
“Do you think he’ll help?”
She shrugged. “That depends. I think he has Seville’s interests at heart.”
“But not the children’s.”
She spun to face York. A decision that would ruin her career weighed in the balance, but it was really no decision at all. She would see that the children went into cryogenics. Every single one of them. Her mind was made up. “To hell with them. You handle the transportation and security. I’ll contact Foster Cryogenics and make the arrangements.”
He smiled. “You have guts.”
“I refuse to let those children die.” She looked out the window at the line outside. It was growing. “I’ll find corporate sponsors to pay the bill. And I’m going directly to the Committee and Chairman B-Cobb myself.”
He grinned. “Can I deck A-Isaac next time?”
She lifted her chin. “Right after I do.”
He nodded and was about to activate his visual communicator when a message came through. He looked at Kindra. “All right. Let’s do this.”
* * *
Captain Avery’s face filled the screen. York updated him on the situation. “So far we have at least one hundred and seven kids with this thing.”
York heard the captain’s sharp intake of air. “Worse than I expected.”
“Kindra wants them transported to a cryogenic unit. We need buses and escorts.”
“Kindra?”
“Dr. B-Zaika, sir.”
Avery nodded. “As you wish. I don’t know who’s going to pay for all this.?”
“Why does money always have to be the first consideration?”
Kindra didn’t really know, but she whispered from several feet away. “Tell him the parents and the Seville Genetics Center.”
“I heard her.”
“We’ll work out those details,” York said. “What were you calling for?”
“Detective Lester has been located at her home. Her LE alarm just activated.”
LE? Kindra mouthed.
“Life-Endangerment alarm,” York said, his voice tense. To Avery, he said, “I’m heading that way now.”
York cursed under his breath. “Thanks for the warning.”
“Shishido will meet you at Vi’s,” Avery said.
“Okay. I’ll call you.” York disconnected.
He faced Kindra, placing his hands on her upper arms, drawing her closer. “Avery will send what you need. Can you handle it alone for a while?” He hesitated, concerned and torn. If there was ever a time he wished he could be in two places at once, this was it.
“Go. We’ll be fine.” Kindra glanced at the list of incoming children she held in her hand.
He prayed she was right.
Chapter Ten
As he burst onto the street outside Seville, York scanned the area for a vehicle to commandeer. Unfortunately, the underground didn’t travel to Vi’s place. He needed a transporter—and fast.
He spotted a sleek police jet pack at the end of the block. He ran past an officer, flashed his ID. “Be right back.”
“Hey! Hey, why don’t you call for a drone?”
“No time.” York strapped in.
“Would you like autopilot?” the computer asked.
“Negative.”
He jetted skillfully above traffic and zoomed between skyscrapers. Vi’s place wasn’t far. That fact her LE alarm had activated was a bad sign. The tiny bead implanted beneath the skin near each serv
ing police officer’s collarbone relayed vital statistics to headquarters. Such a warning rarely went off, and it was mostly left to computer systems to monitor. It’d been that way since the end of the 2099 skirmish with a Kalgronite Space Station. Still, InSIGHT must have picked up the information and sounded the alarm.
York executed a one-eighty, circling down to the parking lot. He spotted another police vehicle and a medi-jet arriving in front of Vi’s building as he landed at street level. He was already out of the pack and running when he heard the computer’s smooth, calm voice reporting, “We’ve arrived at your destination.”
It was a maddening quirk about computers. They always reacted at the same speed, with indifference to the situation. No sense of urgency. No compassion. No love, hate, or pain. With the possible exception of Comp Nine and possibly the other HERO computers equipped with AI.
He stepped on the elevator.
He was still fixated on the benefits and frustrations of technology when the elevator doors opened on the forty-first floor. His gaze zeroed in on two men down the hall. One was Shishido. The other was York’s older brother.
Shit.
His stare collided with Cal’s, and York realized the battle they’d begun years ago continued. The feud was the reason York had fled to the other side of Chicago. He also knew it didn’t—couldn’t—matter when Vi was in trouble.
York rushed down the hall. Cal stepped back a pace, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The apartment computer’s locked up,” Shishido said.
“And your override key?”
Shishido shot him an apologetic grimace. “Don’t have it.”
“Vi! Open up!” York called, pounding his fist on the door.
A cute, animated dog appeared on the small screen set in the wall beside the door, saying, “Hello. May I ask who’s calling?”
York wasn’t amused. “Lieutenant York Richmond. Let me in.” He aimed his ID wristband at the computer and punched in the address, requesting a police lock override.
“Affirmative voice match.”
“Speed it up. This isn’t a social call,” York said.
Cal finally spoke. “I entered the regular password. It didn’t work. She must have changed it recently.”
Perfection Page 12
