Vi tilted her head to the side and muttered, “Well, I do.”
“We can’t just wait to find out.” York squeezed her shoulder. “We need to discover who wanted to hurt B-Gastion bad enough that they’d kill his daughter.”
“If that’s what happened,” Vi countered.
“No press on this. I’ll see to that.” Avery returned to his desk and tapped the inlaid screen on the right of his desktop.
“It may be too late. Finn is already trapped in a damn political straitjacket. Someone has an agenda. We need to find out who that someone is. He or she may be our killer,” York said.
Avery nodded. “Hell, everyone has an agenda. You two split up and cover the angles.”
York nodded. “I’ll take B-Zaika to B-Gastion’s home. She may have better insight into all this. Plus, if there’s the spiritual connection element…you know.” He checked his watch.
“How about you, Vi?” Avery asked.
Vi got to her feet. “I’ll do some digging into who is behind us being thwarted at the morgue and investigate if anything like this has happened anywhere else. Check my black market contacts to see if anyone other than the usual suspects has recently picked up the kind of equipment it would take to manufacture a virus outside of a regular lab.”
“I’ll talk to the doctor and flip you a list of what she thinks would be needed to do that,” York said.
Vi nodded.
“Cal is digging into both GEI and Coders who may have issues with the regional director, including people from Seville Center,” York said. “And Captain, you may want to do an announcement that GEI should activate the health app on their nanny robots. Just as a precaution. B-Gastion didn’t have it on. If he had, it may have saved the child’s life.”
Avery swiveled his chair and drilled them with a hard stare. “Okay. Good. Contain this thing.”
* * *
Kindra sat in the middle of the unity room assuming a lotus pose. Focusing, she levitated her body and rotated upside down. This was her favorite position. It was like standing on her head in midair and it provided great blood-flow to the brain.
She closed her eyes. Her body relaxed. Her thoughts turned to how a D Generation child might react in a session if a virus was ravaging his or her brain. Of course, a child that age wasn’t nearly as advanced as an adult was. Perhaps a little more accomplished than York Richmond was yesterday. At least he’d tried.
Kindra contemplated the differences between GEIs and Coders. Almost all GEIs liked to experience unity. They were driven to it in the same way they were driven to seek knowledge. It was a desire built into their genes. But she wasn’t sure about Coders. They had the same capabilities, she supposed. She hadn’t given it much thought. It was time she did.
She felt the shift of energy as soon as the door swirled open. She was pleased Seville offered perks such as the unity room, but the downside was the workplace afforded no privacy. Muscles along her neck tensed in anticipation of the intrusion.
She blinked as Comp Nine automatically brought up the lights, illuminating the room in a soft golden glow. Careful not to depart from her meditative plane or jeopardize her floating inverted lotus position, she considered the porthole with a sideways glance.
Her lab assistant stood at the entrance. “Lieutenant Richmond is here again. How much longer should I advise him your session will last?”
“God, Harry, this is the third interruption this week. Do you get your zappies from seeing me suspended upside down, or what?” Kindra shut her eyes to block him out. He was ruining her session yet again. Couldn’t she just have a few minutes to get her bearings before informing the Committee that they needed to eradicate a rogue virus?
She tripped past her irritation with B-Watson as she realized what he’d just said. Her eyes shot open. A dead child. A virus. The police department at her door. All promised disaster.
And just like that, the cement-block-in-her-stomach feeling was back.
“How long?” Harry asked again, impatience in his voice.
“Minutes.” Oh, yeah. She desperately needed to hold on to the tranquil and serene before she saw Lieutenant Richmond again.
Focusing, she pushed troubling images of dark hair and menacing eyebrows aside and pinpointed a beckoning light far down the corridor of her mind. The memory of her daughter’s desire to give her a flower nudged away the tension. She smiled.
And happy was a good thing to be. It helped counteract the stress that threatened to overwhelm her.
B-Watson’s presence impinged on her awareness. The calm feeling of oneness with the universe she’d been searching for melted away and the iridescent bubble of purity, goodness, and beauty dissolved. Gone.
Kindra drew in a whisper of air, then exhaled slowly.
Damn you, B-Watson.
Given that she’d mastered manipulating energy within the physical universe, surely she could do something about one exceedingly irritating lab assistant. And she would. Right after she completed this business with the lieutenant.
“Well?”
She knew that voice. And it didn’t belong to Harry B-Watson.
Her gaze dashed to the porthole. York’s large frame filled the entrance. Oh, the nerve! She pressed her lips together. When had he slipped in?
His mouth tugged into a crooked smile. “Can’t get rid of me, can you?”
Had he read her mind?
And damn if her foolish pulse didn’t quicken at the warmth she saw in his eyes.
“How…? Never mind. Give me a minute,” she said. “I’ll be right there.”
Met with silence, she glanced to see if he’d allowed her some privacy. And he had, facing away from her. B-Watson stood rooted in place, his eyes fixed on her chest. Gravity and a scooped-neck tunic were obviously giving him quite a show. Men. Two decades of precision genetic engineering and some things never changed. Finally, B-Watson edged to the side and out of sight. She assumed he had only escorted York here and was now returning to the lab.
She rotated to an upright position, watching York’s head dip sideways, then level again along with her progress. Remaining suspended in midair, she self-consciously adjusted the hem of her clingy teal shirt over her leggings to make certain everything was where it should be. She glared at him because he seemed so calm and she was anything but. Her heart rate sped up. “You are exceptionally annoying.”
“So I’ve been told.” York folded his arms, which caused the fabric of his shirt to stretch across well-defined biceps.
“Are you here to take me to meet the girl’s mother?”
“That’s what you asked for, right?”
Somehow, the fact she’d requested the meeting didn’t seem to be the point. God, the Coder was far too attractive. Muscles like those were rare in GEI men. Somewhere in the genetic evolution, the Committee had decided brawn interfered with intelligence.
Kindra lowered herself, bending her knees as her feet found the floor. She breathed deeply and swept a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes, telling herself to concentrate on the task at hand. She turned her back on him to walk into a rectangle of light, where she paused to allow closure for her session. Life was a continuous circle of connections.
Finally, the spotlight separated into three dim beams that rose skyward and disappeared beyond a glass-domed ceiling.
God manifests Himself through the laws of nature. All is One.
She turned, puzzled, as she stared at York where he stood just inside the porthole entrance. His face showed uncertainty—a rare sentiment for him, in her limited experience—and curiosity.
“That wasn’t part of what you showed me yesterday.”
She blinked as she focused on his observation, which wasn’t easy considering her mind was already on something else. “No, that’s the more spiritual side of the union. In total, the process is comprised of two elements.” She didn’t elaborate as she strolled to the exit. “Comp Nine, why didn’t you announce Lieutenant Richmond’s arrival?”
&n
bsp; “Harry B-Watson indicated it wasn’t necessary.”
“I see,” she ground out. Why was that man determined to irritate her?
“May I assist with anything else?” Nine asked.
“Can you terminate obnoxious lab assistants?” Kindra asked.
“That’s not within my programming.”
“Pity.” She glanced at York. “Let’s go to my office.”
As she led the way from the unity room, Kindra cupped her left hand close to her mouth. The micro PDA fixed to her fingernail changed from hot pink to green the instant her breath hit it. “Note to self: Review B-Watson’s employment records.” The message would sync with her notes on her personal computer.
“Remind me not to piss you off,” York said.
“You know it,” she said.
“While you’re composing reminders”—Comp Nine’s voice traveled with them down the hall—“you have a memo about accepting the Teresa Award tonight at eight o’clock.”
She scrunched her nose in revulsion. “I hate those things.”
“Seville cultivates such decorations,” Nine replied.
Kindra continued to make the face. “Interesting word choice. They can keep their politically inspired recognition.”
“I don’t follow,” Nine said.
“Never mind. Let’s just say I detest being thrust into the limelight.” She glanced at York and saw a glimmer of empathy in his eyes.
She felt his agreement, though he only said, “The award is an honor, Kindra. Congratulations.”
She hiked a shoulder and then let it fall. “Thank you.”
She thought of her father. He’d earned every distinguished award she could think of and it hadn’t made him happy. To her, this sort of recognition seemed more for the Committee’s benefit than the recipient’s.
“I’ve prepared an acceptance speech,” she said quietly. “But I’m not going. I need to stay focused on finding a vaccine for the virus.”
Director A-Isaac rounded the corner just ahead of them. Odd, that most of the time she rarely ran into him, yet in the past two days she’d encountered him twice.
She swiftly stepped sideways to avoid a head-on collision with him. Her elbow brushed York’s. “Sorry.”
“Be where?” A-Isaac asked.
“Nine was just reminding me about the award ceremony tonight.”
“Good, good. You must attend. Act like everything is normal,” A-Isaac suggested.
“Do you really think that’s best?”
“Yes.” He walked past her a few steps and turned. “Any headway on a cure yet?”
Was he being flippant, or did he actually believe it would be that easy? Or was he testing his deadline? “Nothing yet. I have two teams working every scenario.”
A-Isaac shook his head and continued on his way. York waited until the man was gone and then muttered, “Totally GEI. Gotta love ’em.”
“What?”
He held his palm out as if indicating, Ladies first, and they resumed their walk to her office. “Never mind.”
“How do you keep getting in here anyway? Seville doesn’t allow visitors. At least not in the lab.”
“Police officers have the authority to go anywhere.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.” She halted outside the door to her lab and glanced up into his rich brown eyes. “So you’re taking me to Isabelle’s?”
“Yes. My captain approved it.”
“Humph. Chain of command. Now that I understand.” She went to her desk and unlocked a drawer using a code to retrieve a black and red satchel filled with test supplies in case she needed them at B-Gastion’s. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I haven’t been home yet. If I go with you, I need to make a quick stop by my house first, especially if I have to go to this event later. And maybe the Mall Center before that. Otherwise, the trip to Gastion’s home will have to wait until tomorrow.”
“The Center?” She saw the telltale flex of muscles in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.
“Yes. I have a promise to keep.”
“But we have—”
“I know, Lieutenant. But I also have personal obligations.”
“Do you always honor your promises?”
“Always.”
York took her by the wrist and, gently pulling her after him, led her out of her office, headed for the lobby. “Let’s go then.”
Chapter Seven
Kindra smoothed her hands down the front of her shirt as she stepped from York’s air-car into the shopping mall’s parking lot. Her emotions flew like a yo-yo that had broken its string. One second she was grateful for the police escort and the doorstep parking spot that came with it. The next instant she was miffed because he wouldn’t simply wait in the air-car as she zipped in and out of the mall. No, he had to accompany her.
People entered and exited the twenty-five-story center on Michigan Avenue as if they didn’t have a care in the world. She headed for the entrance with York at her side, all tall, massive, and silent. Her mind wouldn’t settle.
This was the single most complicated day of her life. Besides dealing with Mr. Charisma, a motherly war waged within her. She wanted to do her job, but she also needed to be with and take care of her daughter.
She paused, allowing her gaze to skim upward over the massive oval-shaped building adorned with glass windows and crisscross metal framing. Around thirty steps separated the parking area from the entrance. Halfway up an apron of stairs, a teen plowed into Kindra, knocking her off-balance and down a step. York steadied her, firmly seizing her elbow. He glared at the youth.
“Um, sorry,” the boy stammered, backed up a few steps then hurried away.
Adjusting her stance, she resisted the urge to bat his hand away. She didn’t need his help, didn’t want the man’s vigilant attention, and didn’t appreciate the tight feeling in her chest when his warm fingers touched her skin.
“Thanks,” she forced out as politely as she could. “Landing on my ass would have set us back some.” She gave an awkward chuckle, then eased her arm from his grip.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course.”
Now to shake these strange sensations.
She closed her eyes, hard. Opened them. The child’s death, plus her own sense of culpability in it, kept tugging at her. That was it. It was not the suspicion that her energy had somehow entwined with York’s.
She made her feet move.
The automatic doors opened as they approached. She glimpsed the time on the massive media screen at the far end of an open courtyard. 4:50 p.m. Not much time to get it all done.
The screen scrolled into an advertisement for E Generation babies that would be available soon, promoting a list of the options the parents could choose from. The very thing she was challenging the Committee about this morning. She released a disgusted sigh.
“This way,” she said, making a hard right.
“What are we here for?”
“A gift for my daughter.” They walked briskly past a tea café and a loud group of patrons. A man and woman turned their heads to watch them go by. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught York’s bold stare back at them. The couple immediately returned to their tea.
“Birthday?” he asked without missing a beat as if he hadn’t just given the strangers The Look.
“No.” She stopped in front of the florist. Tipping her head, she added, “You want to come in or wait here and admire the locals?”
He angled his chin toward the center of the oval-shaped mall. “Like the green-and-fuchsia-tinged teenage girls over there?”
“A few drops of Glo under the tongue and your skin color changes. What’ll they come up with next?” She shook her head. “Their GEI parents did everything to make their lives perfect, and they want to change their skin color.”
His lip curled upward. “Yeah. Go figure.”
“Come on.” She led the way into the store, headed straight for the clerk, and requested a sunflower. Natural, not cloned. The short red-haired
man looked her up and down, pursed his thin lips, and gave a curt nod before he disappeared behind a door. Kindra glanced at York. She felt as if she’d just gotten the clerk’s seal of approval.
“It smells so good in here.” She inhaled an exaggerated breath. “So real.”
“You need to get outdoors more,” York said.
The clerk returned with a floating tray of half a dozen red pots. “These are the only ones I have. All cloned,” he said. “Sorry.”
Kindra lifted each pot and examined it thoroughly, finally choosing a sunflower the size of her palm that peeked out of lush green leaves. “This will have to do.”
“That’s a good choice, actually, with three plants combined. See the two other buds.” He pointed them out. “Give it a cup of water, a pinch of nutrition, and at least six hours of sunlight every day.”
Kindra hesitated. Would Brianna discern the difference between natural and cloned? Her stomach clenched, knowing she wouldn’t be able to fully honor her promise. “I’ll take it,” she said as she placed her thumb on the payment scanner for the account transaction.
She wrapped an arm around the plant, resting it on her hip, and said to York. “I hope Brianna is pleased.”
“Brianna?” the clerk asked as they turned to leave.
“Yes, this is for my daughter.”
“Oh, no, that won’t do. She’ll…”
But the man’s voice faded as Kindra picked up her pace, moving ahead of York out of the store as an idea struck. She’d pick up a new Global Doll, too. Surely that would make up for the somewhat broken promise. She led the way to the airlifts, arriving just in time to slip onto the large oval lift platform that replicated the shape of the inner open atrium. “Hurry.”
York stepped on as it started to rise. “Now what?”
“One more quick stop.”
He nodded slowly. “And that would be?”
“You’ll see.” Then she instructed the airlift, “Twelfth floor.”
York groaned and crossed his arms. The platform smoothly ascended the atrium like a sweeping spiral staircase. She shifted the potted plant to her other hip so its weight was tugging her to the center of the airlift instead of making her feel like she’d topple over the rim. When she glanced again at York, he grinned.
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