At the ninth floor, a young man sailed by them in a free fall. From a side portal, a flying robot zoomed out and caught the troublemaker, effectively ending the plummet. “Stupid kids,” York said. “They have no respect for life.”
Kindra peered over the edge and watched as the robotic rescuer took the GEI teenager to a security post. “Do they ever miss?”
“Not supposed to.”
“What’ll happen to him?”
“His thrill ride will get him a few days in detention.”
She nodded, wondering how many miscreants actually did their time. The bribery system more than likely allowed the petty offenders to go free while lining government officials’ pockets. By the look on York’s face, she’d say he didn’t approve of the kid’s wild behavior.
When they docked at the designated floor, York casually stepped from the platform and politely held out his hand to assist her. It was an old-fashioned gesture, but nice. How long had it been since someone had offered her aid? How long had it been since she’d accepted it? The simple act just highlighted the way people rarely helped one another nowadays. Not wanting to make a big deal of the assistance, she sighed and placed her slim hand in his large one. His palm was rough, warm, and…revealing. But she wouldn’t let on that it showed her how difficult the towering view was for him.
“Over here.” She led the way to the left, holding on to him longer than she should have. With her skin feverish, her blood pulsing down to her fingertips, she was totally aware of him. And, strangely, his fearless pretense moments earlier struck her as sweetly heroic.
But she was in no mood to analyze that now.
She hurried into the store and halted in the center aisle of Global Dolls, Inc. Spinning around, she faced York. He gave a lopsided smile, seeming amused. Damn his too-handsome, too-male, too-charming self. Her throat managed to squeeze some saliva down to her stomach.
“A doll shop?” he asked.
She shoved the sunflower between them until it nudged his ribs. “Hold this, please.”
“Are you almost finished?”
“Yes. I know exactly what I want, and then we’ll be out of here.”
She plucked the last eighteen-inch doll with coal black hair from the shelf and a box of Grow Your Own Garden accessories, paid using an automated system via her thumbprint and turned triumphantly to York. “Okay, let’s—”
His intense expression robbed her of air as his gaze swept the room to pinpoint the security cameras.
“What is it?”
He whipped out his spot computer and flipped through posts. “Vi noted that B-Gastion said his wife and Isabelle were in this store last week.”
Kindra hesitated as she looked around. “So? Lots—”
“I need to speak to the manager.”
“But…but do you think we have time?”
He stared at her. “Now you’re going to worry about the hour?”
She straightened. “I’ve been keeping track.”
“Then we don’t have a problem.” He strode toward a door labeled Office. The sunflower swayed with each step he took.
Her shopping bag brushed against her leg as she ran to keep up. Was he assuring her that he’d get her home in time to change and see the Gastions before the awards ceremony or simply relaying that it wasn’t his dilemma?
He knocked on the office door, tried the doorknob, and entered when it proved to be unlocked.
His boldness caused a procession of worry-bugs to march along her neck. He didn’t wait around, did he?
She made a mental note to make sure she stayed on his good side.
As soon as the door was open, an automated message sounded. “Please return tomorrow morning after ten o’clock, and the manager will be glad to assist you at that time.”
She glanced from what she could see of the empty room to his face, where a jaw muscle worked furiously. Not a good sign.
“Management has left early and left the fucking machines in charge,” he grumbled. He looked annoyed enough to hurl her precious plant at the computer.
“Do you want me to take that?”
His thick brows lowered. Apparently, he didn’t know what she was talking about. But then he came back from whatever dark planet he had been visiting, and his mood shifted before her eyes.
As if reading her worry, he let go of the pot. She inhaled sharply, but he’d already caught the pot. He grinned.
He was playing her!
And he was damn good at it, too.
“Not nice.” She wanted to punch his arm but didn’t dare.
His brown eyes flickered, warm and inviting. She caught her lip between her teeth and held her breath.
He shut the door. “Let’s go. I’ll call on them tomorrow.”
* * *
Twenty minutes later, York stood in Kindra’s living room and stared at her with confusion. The contradiction between scientist and mother was astonishing as Kindra scooped Brianna into her arms and embraced the child. She had insisted they dash into the mall along the way to purchase a flower and then a doll for her daughter. York grinned at the thought of the number plants she’d rejected before spotting the right one. Now he understood.
Brianna’s face glowed. “You remembered!”
“Of course I did.” The little girl squirmed, and Kindra set her down.
Brianna smiled up at him, her blue eyes bright. “Did you notice it looks exactly like the picture?”
For an instant, he didn’t follow, but then she placed the live plant on the table next to a gel book with the holographic plant. “You’re right. It’s a perfect match.”
“Brianna, this is Lieutenant Richmond.”
“Pleased to meet you,” the girl said. But she wasn’t really interested in him and turned quickly back to her mother. She grabbed Kindra’s hand and tugged her down to toddler level, then rested her tiny hand on her mother’s cheek, commanding her full attention. “Now you have a real flower for May Day. Even if it is a bit late.”
“Yes, what a great idea you had. Thank you.” Kindra’s eyes shone.
York shoved his hands into his pockets, feeling like an intruder. It had been a long time since his family had shared such a poignant moment. He was whipped back to the special hologram birthday card Danny made him for his thirty-fourth birthday. The memory hurt.
Kindra glanced his way, her gaze settling on the black and red satchel she’d brought from Seville. He saw the wave of concern and regret cross her face and realized she was scared. “Listen, honey.” She rubbed Brianna’s back. “I need you to help me out with one of my tests. Can you do that?”
“Sure.”
“Can you pass me that,” she said to York, indicating the bag.
York carried the kit to them. She hadn’t said anything about testing her daughter. Maybe she’d just decided to on the spur of the moment.
Opening it, Kindra took out a handful of mini tubes. “This won’t hurt. I’m just going to touch them to your arm.”
“Okay. I’m brave.”
“Yes, you’re a very brave girl,” Kindra agreed.
“I see you’re in the middle of a chess game,” York said as a means of distraction.
“I’m winning,” Brianna said.
It only took a second for each of three tubes to fill with blood when Kindra pressed them to Brianna’s arm. The girl giggled. “It tickles.”
York couldn’t help smiling. “I thought so, too.”
“You’ve had this done? But you’re—”
“Lots of people have tests done,” Kindra cut the child off as if anticipating an awkward Coder comment and blushed. “It’s part of what scientists do.”
All he could think about was how pretty she looked. He edged closer to the table that boasted a holographic chess game. “Hey, I want one of those. Maybe for my birthday,” he said, smiling.
“You should ask someone for it.” Brianna’s eyes were round and blue.
He nodded. “I will. Are you black or white?”
/> “White,” she answered.
He placed his fingers over the black queen. “May I?”
Brianna gave her nod of approval. He moved the piece.
“Checkmate,” the game’s computer said.
With a wriggle of his eyebrows, he chuckled. “I think it cheats.”
“I think you’re bad,” Kindra chimed in. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to grab a dress to change into for the award ceremony.” She dashed down the hall and returned moments later with a dress bag draped over her arm.
He couldn’t remember when he last felt so good inside. Kindra looked at ease, playful even, and he wanted the moment to stretch out. Of course, this wasn’t their mission. She already had her kit repacked and was ready to go.
“Okay, ladybug, you go to bed at eight.” Kindra kissed the child’s head and turned to a Nanny Sally android. “Nan, I’ll call. I don’t know how late I’ll be.”
“But I want to watch you on holobox tonight,” the child exclaimed.
“You’ll be able to see it tomorrow.”
Brianna pouted. “Aw. Not fair.”
“Oh, yes, it is. Now be a good girl.”
“Don’t miss the awards,” Brianna called after her mother.
Chapter Eight
York skimmed his police ID over the computer lens embedded in the massive double doors.
“This place makes me feel small.” Kindra craned her neck, looking up to take in what she could see of the B-Gastions’ mansion and the twelve-foot-diameter chandelier suspended over their heads in the portico. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yes.” But York thought the view of her kissable throat and lustrous golden hair a thousand times more intriguing than any glittering crystals and beads. And on the back of that admiration came disgust. How could he fall into the trap of finding GEI perfection attractive? Finally, he tilted up his head, too. “Like the rest of the house, it’s made to look quite old. Many of the lake houses are like that—antique chic. Who would have thought it? The new GEI fad.”
The door opened, and Fredrick B-Gastion himself greeted them. He was a young forty. His soft, blond, curly hair wisped around his ears, and his black pants and semi-casual tan jacket were tailored just right. He had a strong, trim figure that spoke of the perfect gene combination.
“This way.” He led them through a vast living area adorned with furnishings with clean lines, which lent a plush, artistic feel to the space. Since the preliminary investigation had already been done by the police, Fredrick headed straight to the child’s room. They moved onto an airlift that took them to the second floor.
“My wife hasn’t completed spiritual unity since…” B-Gastion’s words trailed off. They passed a unity room where Mrs. C-Gastion sat.
“We’ll need to speak with her,” York said, noting that the Gastions came from different generations.
“Later.” B-Gastion brought them to another doorway. “This is—was—Isabelle’s room,” he said to Kindra in a voice hushed with grief.
York encouraged Kindra to enter first, then came up alongside her in time to catch the heart-wrenching expression on her face as she scanned the child’s playthings. Her throat worked as if she fought to keep her composure, and her eyes seemed overly bright. Was this the naked truth of her emotions? She’d been so loving with her own daughter. He was beginning to think she had a soft spot that she valiantly tried to hide.
He asked quietly, “All right?”
She swallowed again. “Sure.”
York turned his attention to the room, which looked bright and cheery. He could almost forget a child had died here. The furnishings were sized for a two-year-old. A fairy-tale land complete with a robotic unicorn occupied a third of the bedroom. It was as if little Isabelle would bound into the room at any second.
“The room’s immaculate.” York sat in one of two adult-sized chairs and turned on the recording app on his spot computer. The computerized app would transcribe every word spoken and provide an analysis of tone and sincerity.
“Of course,” B-Gastion commented. “We have a Sally for every room.”
The room was quiet in a way a child’s room shouldn’t be. The adult voices seemed out of place.
“Was Isabelle in here when…when she passed?” Kindra asked coolly, apparently in control once more.
A pained look crossed B-Gastion’s face. He stared at York. “I provided your department with all the information I had yesterday. Why do I have to go through this again?”
“I’m sorry Fredrick,” York said sympathetically. “We don’t want to overlook anything. And Dr. B-Zaika has knowledge we don’t.”
B-Gastion turned on Kindra. “How could the genetics team make such an error?” he blurted, eyes full of rage. “Someone is going to pay.”
York casually leaned back in the chair, allowing his body language to set the tone. “I don’t think that’s the case, Fredrick. However—”
“Hold up a minute.” B-Gastion loomed over Kindra. “You know something. What?”
Kindra’s gaze locked on York. He hesitated, unwilling to share their discovery. A glint of panic blinked in her eyes. She was out of her element.
York stood, moved to the regional director, and rested a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. He had a right to know what had killed his daughter. “The evidence shows that Isabelle died of a virus—a new, unheard-of virus.”
B-Gastion blinked in confusion. “But how is that even possible?”
“Perhaps it was accidental, perhaps it was intentional. To get to you, maybe.”
“No. You can’t possibly think this has anything to do with me. Who would ever want to harm an innocent child?” B-Gastion looked at Kindra again and jabbed a finger at her. “It’s you who has failed.”
Kindra’s face looked as unmoving as a sculpture, though York noticed she had gone pale as milk. Walking to the corner of the room, she extracted a small bag from beneath her arm. “I’m going to take a few samples.”
“The forensic team already did that.”
“I’m aware of that. But as you know, the analysis capability at Seville is the most advanced in the area.” York strolled to the window and peered out at the grounds below. “We’re using every resource at our disposal to find answers.”
Kindra was swabbing items—a piano, a Global Doll with long, braided blond hair, a white robotic kitty—and placing the spent testers inside plastic tubes and labeling them. She used tiny vacuum cylinders to take air samples. York visually scanned the room, his eyes stopping on the Nanny Sally robot.
“I thought they took that Sally to check out yesterday.”
B-Gastion nodded.
Kindra folded her test kit. “May I speak to your wife now?”
“Not in here,” B-Gastion said, a catch in his throat. His shoulders sagged as he led the way out of Isabelle’s bedroom and into the game room down the hall. “This room doesn’t hold as many memories. Wait just a minute. I’ll bring my wife to meet with you.”
York and Kindra each selected a seat. Kindra avoided his gaze, seeming lost in thought.
B-Gastion returned with his wife on his arm. Mrs. C-Gastion was short for a GEI and had an overindulged appearance, a sign she was one of the early C Generation designs. Fredrick helped her into a chair across from York.
“Please keep it brief.” B-Gastion’s gaze bored into York.
York nodded. “Of course.” He focused his attention on Mrs. C-Gastion. She had been too upset to give many details in her interview the other day, and he hadn’t pressed her. “Can you give me Isabelle’s schedule for the past week? Where has she been? Who with?”
“Let me see. It’s Friday.” She looked distant, confused. York wondered what drugs she was taking to help control her grief. He waited patiently.
“Monday was music lessons. Isabelle was brilliant on the piano. Tuesday, we had a playdate with friends and went to the Centre.”
“Their names?”
“Her playmates that day were Amy D-Spind
le, Kayla D-Brent, Michael D-Perry, and Samuel D-Cobb.”
York noted the names. “So they were all D Generation?”
“Yes.”
“Samuel D-Cobb. That’s Chairman B-Cobb’s son,” Kindra pointed out.
His eyebrows rose. “Really?” He turned to Mrs. C-Gastion. “And Wednesday?”
“Wednesday, we went to the zoo and then dance lessons. And Thursday, she…she…”
“Did you notice anything different about her behavior? Anything strange before…?” Kindra couldn’t seem to finish the sentence with her death. She wet her lips.
The Nanny Sally took a few steps into the room, saying, “She got up to go to the bathroom. She said her head hurt, and then she collapsed.”
All eyes turned to the Sally. “How do you know this?” B-Gastion asked.
“I was in her room. Sally 2 had to change out a battery component.”
“And the Sally 2 is the one we have at the lab. Right?” York asked.
“Yes,” Both B-Gastion and Sally answered at the same time.
“You, my friend, have too many Sallys. They’re all alike.” York paused, pulling his lips to the side as he realized he shouldn’t have said that to a man who now has no need for a nanny android. “Sorry, that came out wrong,” he apologized, then made additional notes in his report. “I’ll have someone come get this Sally 1 for analysis.”
Kindra approached the Sally and began taking swabs from her hands. “Are you equipped with a medical detection unit?”
“No.”
“We didn’t think that was a necessary feature,” B-Gastion said. “We’ve never had to worry about illness.”
Concern showed on Kindra’s face. She placed a hand on Mrs. C-Gastion’s shoulder. “What about her unity sessions? You mentioned to Dr. Finn there was something odd about them.”
Mrs. C-Gastion grabbed Kindra’s hand and held on as if she’d at long last found someone who understood. “Oh, yes. All of a sudden, Isabelle rejected the opportunity. I eventually got it out of her that she couldn’t tap into the universal energy.”
She began to weep brokenly.
“Okay, that’s enough,” B-Gastion said, indicating the interview was done. He pulled his wife to her feet and put his arm around her. “I’m sure you can find your own way out.” He gave them a nod of dismissal. “Lieutenant, Dr. B-Zaika.”
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