Honor System (The System Series Book 4)

by Andrea Ring

  Tessa smiles and shakes her head. “I didn’t paint it.”

  “You didn’t? Did you have it commissioned?”

  “No, silly. The kids painted it.”

  I gape. “Em and Free painted this?”

  “They worked on you together, and then they painted each other. I think it turned out great.”

  “More than great.” I lean forward and give Tessa a kiss. “Thank you so much. I can’t wait to thank them.”

  “We have two little Picassos on our hands,” she says. “We’ve been painting every week. I wanted to keep everything a secret until after today, but Thomas, you’re going to be amazed. Honestly, this is one the worst things they’ve done, objectively speaking.”

  “They’re just lucky they have you as their teacher,” I say.

  Tessa ducks her head. “Thank you.”

  “Nothing but the truth. Hang on.” I go to our closet and rummage behind my clothes.

  “Here.” I hand Tessa a piece of paper and a wrapped box.

  She grins. “Do you know how much this means to me? That you thought of something like this?”

  “I do,” I say. “I didn’t think of much this Christmas, and I’ll change that for next year, but I did think of this. Box first.”

  She opens it and pulls out a stylized sculpture of her holding a baby in each arm, her legs tucked underneath her, her head bent, a slight smile on her lips.

  “Oh, Thomas, it’s gorgeous,” she whispers. “Thank you.”

  “You’re my inspiration,” I say. “I could sculpt you all day.”

  She leans in and kisses me softly.

  “Now the paper.”

  She reads it silently. “Is this…”

  “My cells,” I nod. “How fast Tyrion thinks I’m aging.”

  “One quarter speed?”

  I nod. “Looks like I physically age about a year for every four I experience.”

  Tessa doesn’t say anything.

  “I know it seems like an odd Christmas gift, but Tyrion gave me the results yesterday. I knew I had to be honest with you. So that’s my gift—complete honesty.”

  She nods without looking at me. “Thank you. That is the best gift I could ever receive.”

  Tessa finally gets up and places the sculpture on her dresser. I follow suit and place my painting on my nightstand.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  “How fast are the kids aging? Does Tyrion have results for them?”

  I shake my head. “They’re growing normally. They’re physically exactly where they should be. There’s no evidence that they’re aging more slowly than anyone else. But…”

  Tessa lifts her head in alarm. “But?”

  “They still don’t have death dates written. You know that.”

  She nods.

  “And Tyrion found…something, a weird something in the boys’ DNA. A marker where no marker should be. He doesn’t know yet if Em has this marker.”

  “A marker for what?”

  “We need to run more tests. He’s not sure—”

  “But he has a theory.”

  I sigh. “The marker might indicate, it might dictate that the cells stop aging at a certain point.”

  “What point?”

  “Maybe early twenties.”

  Tessa tucks herself under the covers and turns on her side away from me.

  “Are you okay?” I ask gently.

  “My husband and son are going to live long, youthful lives,” she says. “How can I not be okay with that?”

  I snuggle up behind her and squeeze tight. “I’m sorry, Tessa. I never meant for this to happen.”

  “Me, too,” she whispers.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  The investigation remains quiet. Dad is working with the police on the Attic’s involvement in caring for the boys, and I hope that the military somehow squashes the whole thing, or at least Tyrion’s role in it.

  The kids continue to be a challenge, but the necklaces have been a Godsend. Without the ability to constantly be in other people’s heads, the kids have much more focus. We selectively remove the necklaces to work with the kids individually, and they each display amazing abilities.

  I marvel at the way Tessa and Nicole handle them. There’s order and a routine that we strictly stick to. The kids are all dressing themselves, using the bathroom without help, and even reading at a high school level.

  Try finding books appropriate for a one-year-old written at that level. It’s damn near impossible. But Tessa and Nicole do it.

  At the beginning of February, I park myself back on the first floor and turn my attention to Erica. Dad gives Sean a month’s leave to work at Planarian, so that Erica doesn’t have to travel.

  Erica comes in for her first day at Planarian, and we decide that I should hook up to her and assess things.

  I’m excited. I’ve never hooked up to someone who’s pregnant. I wonder how much I’ll be able to sense about the baby.

  Erica settles down on a table with Dad holding her right hand and me her left. I tell her to breathe deep and block the nerve signals in her hand. I’ll be as quick as I can.

  I hook in.

  “Heart rate is up,” I say, “but normal for a pregnant woman. High blood volume, too, but also normal.”

  “She’s been controlling the swelling in her lower extremities,” Sean says, “against my advice. Any problem with that?”

  “Not that I can tell,” I say. “Bladder’s pretty full. Didn’t you just use the restroom, Erica?”

  She laughs. “How embarrassing. But that’s normal. Pregnant women pee all the time.”

  “A little low on magnesium and potassium,” I say. “Have you been taking your prenatal vitamins?”

  “Sometimes,” she admits. “They make me constipated.”

  “I’d rather you fix that with your abilities than give up the pills. You need the minerals. Take them.”

  “Fine,” she says on a sigh.

  “You have quite a bit of caffeine in your system.”

  “What?” Sean says, nearly coming out of chair. “Erica!”

  “It’s only two cups of coffee in the morning,” she says. “I need it.”

  “But your heart doesn’t!” he says. “Come on! You can just boost your system without the drugs.”

  Erica doesn’t say anything. Neither does Dad, but he has a firm frown going. I suspect he didn’t realize Erica wasn’t following all of her doctor’s orders.

  “The baby is great,” I say, trying to give some good news. “I can only assess general health and mental status without hooking up to her, but she seems healthy and intelligent. Her heart’s beating perfectly.”

  “Thank God,” Erica says.

  “Okay, I’m done.” I back out and unhook. “Looks good. We’ll just do this every morning, and we can head off any problem that develops.”

  “Do you think it would be safe to deliver the baby?” Sean asks. “I think we’ll be able to do much more for Erica if the baby is out.”

  “She’s about six pounds,” I say, “so yeah, I think it’s safe. And prudent. Erica, you don’t want to be worrying about her when we have to worry about you.”

  “I just want to give her the best chance,” she says. “It’s better that she stays inside as long as possible. Can’t we deliver her the day before?”

  Sean looks at me.

  “How about this?” I say. “We plan for the day before, the 11th, but if we get even one hint about something going wrong with you, we deliver her immediately. Sound good?”

  Everyone nods.

  We don’t have a problem yet, but at least we have a plan.

  Chapter Forty

  Erica’s body holds steady for three days. I detect no major alarming changes.

  But on day four, one week before her death date, I notice swelling in her feet when she walks into the lab. She has sandals on, and the straps around her ankles threaten to cut into her skin.

  “Have you stopped regulating the swelli
ng?” I ask her.

  She kicks out one foot. “You noticed, huh? Sexy, isn’t it? I’m just a bit tired today. Thought I’d take the day off and actually experience the joys of pregnancy.”

  Dad follows us into the operating room we use for the procedure. “I like your ankles. Swollen or not, they are sexy.”

  They smile at one another. I love to see it, but it’s forced.

  “Did you not sleep well?” I ask as she lies back on the table.

  “You can’t possibly sleep well when you’re eight months pregnant,” she says. Her voice is a little breathy at the end.

  “Are you having trouble breathing?”

  “You try taking a full breath while a watermelon pushes up on your chest.”

  I sigh. Erica’s answer for everything is, “I’m pregnant.”

  I pull up a stool next to the table and sit. “Erica, I love you, but I need real answers. If something has gotten worse, or something is harder to do today than it was yesterday, I need to know.”

  She starts to swivel her head in Dad’s direction, but she catches herself. She turns back to me and lowers her eyes.

  “I’ve had a tough time breathing since my fifth month. But I regulated and I expelled any fluid that built up so it wouldn’t be an issue. Honestly, I don’t have the energy to keep doing it.”

  Dad’s eyes find mine, and if we could communicate psychically, I know he’d be screaming obscenities.

  “So you’re saying you had fluid build-up in your lungs, not just in your feet?”

  She nods.

  I pat her hand. “Thank you for telling us. I’m gonna talk to Dad and Sean in my office and we’re gonna come up with a plan. Hold tight, okay?”

  She nods again.

  We go out and down the hall to the offices. I find Kate and ask her to go sit with Erica while we consult. She readily agrees.

  I settle in my chair while Sean closes the door behind him. He takes the chair in front of the desk while Dad paces.

  “Three months. Probably longer. She’s been in heart failure for three months!”

  “The question is, why didn’t she fix it? She has the ability, right?” Sean asks.

  “She does,” Dad says, “but she doesn’t have the knowledge. She fixed her immediate symptoms because they bugged her, and she thought she was taking care of the problem. But she wasn’t. She was masking it.”

  “I should be able to fix it,” I say. “If there’s fluid in the lungs, the problem is with the left ventricle. If it’s hardening, I should be able to replace the cells. I didn’t detect a problem with the heart, but it’s possible Erica’s been fixing that too without realizing it.”

  “So we deliver the baby today,” Sean says.

  “I agree. Dad?”

  “Yeah. Sean, can you call the OB and see when she can get here? And the pediatrician. I’ll text you her number. I’d like her in the delivery room.”

  “I’ll have Kenneth alert the anesthesiologist, too. On it.” Sean leaves, and Dad pulls out his phone to get the number for him.

  “We’ve already got the room set up,” I say. “You just have to prepare Erica, and then we’re ready. And why do you need the OB? I thought Sean spent the last six months following one around and delivering babies himself.”

  “Six months can’t replace years of experience,” Dad says. “Sean would be more than competent in an emergency situation, but since we have the time, I want an expert here.”

  “Reasonable. Does this person know about us?”

  “She does. She was the one who took care of Vivian all those years ago.”

  “Is she a Dweller?”

  “No, but she’s in the military. She gets it. I just hope she can get here today.”

  Dad moves to the door.

  “I’ll call Tessa. She can pack some things for Erica and bring them by. Is there anything else I can do?”

  Dad turns back to me. “Pray.”

  ***

  It’s six in the evening by the time the team is assembled and everyone’s ready.

  Erica’s condition has deteriorated rapidly.

  Her ankles are the size of grapefruits. Her breathing comes in short, raspy bursts. Her heart rate and blood pressure are elevated.

  I hooked up to her around noon and began triage. Basically, I’ve concentrated on the fluid in her lungs to ease her breathing, and I’ve kept her blood pressure down. I need to heal the heart, the source of her problems, but we’re concerned about doing this while the baby’s still in utero. If I do something that affects the heart function, I may hurt the baby. There are just too many unknowns.

  So we’ve been cautious. But Erica needs some drastic healing, and she needs it as soon as possible.

  The OB, Dr. Forrest, finally comes in, is introduced to everyone, and immediately examines Erica’s vitals. I watch her meet Dad’s eye across the bed.

  “C-Section. Now. Let’s give her a spinal block.”

  The anesthesiologist sets to work. Dad helps Erica sit up and get into a position where the block can be administered and I can still be hooked up to her.

  It takes a few minutes, but when the block starts to work, I feel it. Erica’s lungs have to work twice as hard to fight the effects of the anesthesia, which means I’m working twice as hard.

  I tell the room as much, and Dad grunts.

  “It’s only for a little bit,” he says. “Can you hang in there?”

  “Give me five minutes,” Dr. Forrest mumbles.

  They hang a sheet between Erica and her stomach. They swab her belly.

  Dr. Forrest goes in her with scalpel.

  And I nearly bite my tongue in half.

  “Stop! The block’s not working! She can feel it! Erica!” I turn to her, but Erica’s eyes have rolled back in her head, and her neck relaxes, her head falling limply to the side.

  Dad bends over her and slaps her cheek lightly. I race through her brain, blocking the nerve signals and trying to reverse the shock.

  A baby’s cry splits the air.

  Dad lifts his head briefly and closes his eyes. A tear slips down his cheek. Then he re-focuses on Erica.

  “Local. I need a local before I can stitch her up,” Dr. Forrest says.

  The anesthesiologist prepares a syringe. I’m trying to pay attention to what’s coming my way while also trying to wake Erica, and I’m sure I look like an idiot, my head craning in every direction.

  “You focus,” Dad says, catching on. “I’ll explain. Local going in now…Narcotics upped through her IV…Are the drugs making it harder to work?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “No more drugs,” Dad tells the doctors. “Thomas will block the pain now that he knows he has to.”

  “Where should I go first?” I ask him.

  “Let her stay out. Fix the heart. Keep the lungs from filling up.”

  I nod.

  Thirty minutes later, I haven’t made any significant progress. I tried metabolizing the drugs, but Erica hasn’t eaten in twelve hours in anticipation of the surgery, and I’m low on energy, too.

  “I need Dwellerade and protein pills,” I say. “Erica needs a boost, too. I need more energy for both of us.”

  “She’s been stable for the last twenty minutes,” Sean says. “Take a break. Both of you.”

  I pause in my efforts with the heart, but I can’t stop fighting the fluid in her lungs. I automate the process as much as I can and take a deep breath.

  “Dad, go see the baby,” I say. “We’re okay here.”

  “I don’t want to leave her.”

  “She’d want you to check on her. Erica would want you to. At least for a few minutes.”

  Dad sighs. He peppers Erica’s forehead with kisses.

  “I’m gonna go see her,” he whispers. “I’ll bet she looks just as beautiful as you. Be right back.”

  ***

  I work. Time means nothing to me.

  Dad eventually crashes, his head tilted back at an awkward angle in his chair.
<
br />   Sean comes in and puts a hand on my shoulder.

  “I think it’s time,” he says. “Kate’s gonna be here in a few minutes. She and I will put Erica on a ventilator.”

  “Not good enough,” I say. “The heart is still too sluggish.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Your dad already set the deadline for midnight. It’s just after that now.”

  I sigh. “How’s the baby?”

  “Healthy,” he says. “She has a little jaundice, but she’s breathing on her own, and she finally got the hang of eating. She’ll probably be ready to go home in a few days.”

  “Did they name her?”

  “Your dad wants to wait for Erica.”

  Damn it. Damn me! Why can’t I heal her faster? Why is her body fighting me at every turn?

  “Okay. I should be recovered in a few days. I can try again.”

  Kate comes in and hugs me from the back. “Any progress?”

  “Not enough,” I say.

  She squeezes my arm. “A little healing at a time is not a bad thing. Her poor body’s been hanging on by a thread. She gave everything she had to her daughter. It’s gonna take some time for her to recover.”

  “You think she will?” I ask.

  Kate nods. “She will.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  I sleep for three days.

  When I finally wake, it’s to Em sitting on our bed, looking at me expectantly.

  “Hey, baby girl,” I say. “Come snuggle me.”

  She wriggles under the covers and smooshes her body to mine. I wrap my arms around her and breathe in the baby shampoo-scent of her hair.

  “I want to heal Grandma,” she says.

  I sit up suddenly, alarmed. “No. Absolutely no way. You will not heal her, Emmaleth.”

  “I can do it,” she says with a pout, pulling out of my arms.

  “I couldn’t do it, and I have complete knowledge of the body and lots of experience. No. It’s too dangerous.”

  She pulls at her necklace, but it doesn’t budge. “I want this off right now!”

  “Stop that! You’re gonna hurt your neck. Grandma will be okay.”