Perfection

by Larissa Emerald

  “I’m sorry,” she managed to say while a sickening foreign emotion adhered to her heart like a molecular-binding agent. Her legs grew shaky as she tried to digest the idea that two people had died in the space of three days. Everyone died eventually, but with GEIs it was when they were quite old, and she didn’t have many Coder acquaintances. Death was far from commonplace for her. And even though she’d only just met Detective Lester, losing her was a blow.

  “Thanks.” He sat on the desktop and spun a laser pen on the table.

  A long silence stretched between them. She gave him a chance to fill her in, but he didn’t. How must it feel to lose a friend or relative? She had a tough time imagining it. Her friends and family lived long, healthy lives. The closest she could come to understanding was her mother’s departure to live and work on a distant planet to support a terraforming project. On an intellectual level, she understood her mother’s choice, but deep down, she couldn’t release the prickling sensation of abandonment.

  Her dad was based in London, and though she hadn’t seen him in a very long time, she could reach him at any time, see him whenever she wanted to.

  Eventually, York lifted his gaze. “I think I could use another unity session,” he said, the words hesitant.

  Kindra hid her astonishment. “See, I told you Coders could do it.”

  York slid forward, stood up. He seemed to deliberately shake off his melancholy with a half-smile. “Did you now?”

  She put even more distance between them. “Stop.”

  “What?”

  “You know very well what. Quit making me like you.”

  “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Like me?”

  Indeed, she did. Too much. “Yes,” she admitted. She hesitated as he moved closer, heat rising into her cheeks. “I’m in an extremely vulnerable state right now. I’d like anyone who helped me.” She waved her hand. “Correction… Oh, it doesn’t matter.”

  “It does to me.”

  She pretended he hadn’t made that comment, tuning into his tone and mannerisms instead. “Did everything go okay at Foster Cryo? Any problems?”

  “No.” He folded his arms. “And you didn’t answer me.”

  She backtracked the conversation in her head. “You want a second lesson on unity sessions, is that it?”

  “Yes.”

  She stepped toward the door, well aware he was keeping something from her. “Let’s go.”

  “But let’s not fall asleep on the floor again,” he said, following her down the hall.

  “Agreed. No need to give the director any more ammunition.”

  * * *

  York knew the drill this time. He found his position on the floor, crossed his legs, and prepared to let go of his awful day. And wouldn’t that be just what he needed?

  To his amazement, the experience was like traveling down a familiar path: the landmarks were there, and he gave them negligible consideration until he approached unfamiliar ground. He reached a destination far beyond what he’d experience the first time, and the change of reality was what he imagined traveling in a time machine would be like. A journey that seemed simultaneously slowed and warped, a capsule floating and spinning toward a minuscule speck on the horizon, a bright star that grew larger and larger and larger.

  He was in another dimension. Somewhere peaceful, harmonious, joyful, and pleasurable.

  The trials of the day receded, just as he’d hoped they would. And then he saw Danny. His son looked untouched by age or illness, frozen in time as a healthy seven-year-old.

  York would have thought he’d get choked up seeing his son. But somehow sorrow seemed out of place here. He approached Danny, who was playing ball with some friends.

  The boy hit a home run, pumped his arm over his head, then continued jogging until he reached York. “Did you see that?”

  York nodded and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “Totally gold.”

  Danny beamed, wrapped his arms around his dad’s hips and hugged him. York lifted Danny into his arms, settling the boy on his forearm and bent elbow, bringing him up to eye level.

  “I miss you, my man, but I’m glad you’re having fun.”

  Danny angled his head as if wondering why he wouldn’t be. It occurred to York that Danny didn’t miss him, or pine for him, or suffer any loss. He didn’t even understand he was gone.

  “Come play, Daddy.”

  “I think you can beat me.”

  “Everyone wins,” Danny said, wiggling to get down.

  As York struck the ball, ran around the diamond, and laughed with his son, he realized why someone would relish this experience. It was as addictive as the most popular hologame.

  At some point, he noticed Kindra standing at the sideline, watching. Their eyes met, and she held out her hand.

  It was time for him to go. And even though his son didn’t seem bothered by their parting, it was as if a five-hundred-pound weight crushed York’s chest. He gave Danny a lingering hug.

  “See ya later, Daddy.”

  York tousled Danny’s straight, silky brown hair. “You bet.”

  In his altered state, he wandered over to Kindra, grabbed her warm hand, and together they returned to their dimension.

  When he opened his eyes in the unity room, they were sitting. They weren’t physically touching, yet the feeling of heat and pressure on his hand remained. Her gaze met his, and his palm grew briefly numb as she seemed to telepathically release him. With a ragged breath, he smiled.

  “I can’t thank you enough for teaching me how to do this.” He flexed and then bent his fingers, wanting to hold her hand in the flesh.

  She twisted and scooted toward him, stopping inches from his chest, and waved her hand in an attention-grabbing arch. “You have a son.”

  It felt like an evening for confessions, and York needed to give up at least a small part of his pain. Surprise crossed his face at her ability to know that.

  “I did some research, too.” She stretched out on the floor, as she had done last time, and stared at the ceiling. He did the same. Then she propped herself up on one elbow and placed a palm on his chest. “Want to talk about it?”

  “Not much to say. It happened six years ago and can’t be changed.” York fitted her to his side and slipped his arm beneath her neck. She rubbed little circles over his heart with her fingers. It was a soothing gesture.

  “You’re right, can’t change the past,” she said, “but you can change how you view it.”

  Perhaps if he forced himself to recount what had happened, his demons would cease to haunt him. “I was married. She wanted a child but also wanted to make the boy as perfect as possible. When he was seven, we used a backdoor lab to genetically undo a blood disorder that he had. The skill of the geneticist really does equal the quality of success. When we knew something was wrong, I tried to elicit help from the Committee. No one took my calls.” His voice shook with self-loathing. “My son lasted a week, then died. And…” It felt as if a fishbone were stuck in his throat. He swallowed, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with hurt. “My wife left soon after. She ran off to work in Japan for a while. About as far away as she could get.”

  York threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, and released a bitter, guttural laugh. His throat burned with the hate, the shame that coursed through him. “It’s funny how the memory is so clear. I can see their faces, Danny and Madison’s, remember every detail. That week was the worst of my life. I felt so helplessness.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, you know. If you had found the help you’d been seeking, they most likely couldn’t have changed the outcome.”

  She had said the very words York couldn’t accept because it was his fault. “No. If Danny had been GEI, they would have found a way. They are cowards who prey on the weak. If I had pushed harder, he’d still be alive.”

  “I’m so sorry,” she murmured.

  He could feel her sympathy as she held him close. When she turned her head, he
kissed her. And she opened her mouth to him as he realized he didn’t want this moment to end.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As he stood in the penthouse of one of the most prestigious buildings in Chicago, he smiled, feeling completely satisfied. There was nothing as sweet as the feeling of winning.

  Or watching his enemies run around and jump through hoops to try to save their asses.

  With a toast to a successful day, he swirled his cocktail, admiring the weighty spirals of red and blue liquid that never mixed due to their molecular composition. He took in the news with careless interest, then faced the expansive windows to look down on the city. Lights flashed like miniature beacons, then streaked in the distance over the lake as vehicles traveled, flashing in a way that reminded him of time-lapse photography. Soon the lights grew fewer as people locked themselves away for the night.

  He sipped, holding the honeyed liquid in his mouth until it filled with saliva. Then he swallowed slowly. He belched.

  Yes, they’d tucked their little darlings into cryo pods. These few might be the lucky ones. There would be more to come. He’d made certain of that.

  Discarding the half-empty glass on the counter, he entered a fortified sterile room—his personal lab. Concealed far above the streets where the GEI lived, he tugged open the cryogenic safe that housed his genetic wonder. He removed an anaerobic jar housing a thumbnail-sized petri dish. It was amazing how little one needed to initiate the genetic engineering process.

  He crossed to the worktable. By tomorrow he’d have enough serum to kill thousands.

  * * *

  They did not fall asleep this time, instead, he’d kissed her. Kissed her! She couldn’t believe it. And immediately after, he jumped to his feet and couldn’t make it to the door quick enough. Obviously, he wasn’t pleased with what he’d done.

  Kindra followed York down the hallway, taking a double step every few strides to keep pace with him. He’d answered her question about his son with only sad affirmation. She wanted to know more. He seemed so vulnerable and emotionally authentic. To her immense surprise, she was eager to learn every last detail about York Richmond. And in the realm of knowledge, she could be insatiable.

  When they reached the elevator, she marched inside beside him. Ha! He couldn’t run from her any longer.

  He crossed his arms, and so did she. The door slid closed.

  “Basement,” he said to Comp Nine. He eyed the descending numbers.

  Fooltar. Within the close proximity of the elevator, her breathing grew shallow and faster. Her breasts felt sensitive beneath the hugging pressure of her arms. She inhaled his masculine scent. Her body reacted to him in the most unusual way.

  It was as if the intense situation with the children spilled into every aspect of her life, confusing her in ways she’d never been confused before. At the same time, she desired to wrap him in her arms and offer comfort. She couldn’t imagine the hurt he’d suffered today. First, he’d lost his partner, and now she sensed the inner turmoil surrounding his son’s death.

  The unity dimension interconnected with a world of supreme contentment, the beings all vessels of energy and spirit. And with the ease with which GEIs bounced back and forth between the worlds, it was sometimes difficult to tell in which world another person resided. In this case, she was almost certain that given their encounter, York’s son dwelled over there.

  York was inexperienced in the process and didn’t realize yet the fluid mobility humans could attain in a unity session.

  “What happened today?” she asked.

  “Don’t you have a vaccine to create?”

  “Okay, it’s none of my business.” It stung that he wouldn’t share. He’d been so caring with Brianna. Was his son the reason? Obviously, he must have many difficult memories after losing his child. She thought of Brianna. What if she lost her child?

  A hint of guilt swept over his face. “None of these kids are going to get any sicker tonight. I’m going home. You should do the same.”

  “I plan to. And to check on Brianna.” She didn’t tell him she intended to head right back to the lab to work more. She could nap between tests and computer simulations.

  He nodded, then offered, “Do you want me to take you home?”

  Maybe he wasn’t as angry with her as she thought. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

  She was quick to move with him through the corridors until he turned at a junction and headed in the opposite direction from the garage. “Wait. You’re taking the underground?”

  “Sure. That’s how I arrived.”

  “Oh…” She paused a beat. “I assumed you had your air-car.” Yes, it would save her from taking the bus, but GEIs rarely used the underground. She pressed her lips together. Like most of her kind, she didn’t care for the dark, shadowy tunnels.

  “Is that okay?”

  They approached the spinner dock. “Well, I’m not going to back out now. But I’ve never been down here.” She gazed into his warm brown eyes and sighed wearily. Trust him.

  He presented her with a heart-melting lopsided smile, waited for her to enter the spinner, and then climbed in beside her. While dictating destination instructions to the computer, he reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. Without fuss or judgmental innuendos, he acknowledged her dilemma. He was no doubt aware that this unusual situation frightened her. She softened with his effort.

  “Have you ever ridden in one of these?” he asked.

  She swallowed. “No.”

  “You’re in for a treat. It’s smooth, fast, and remarkably quiet. Unlike flying.” He lifted a brow.

  She caught the reference to their wild ride to the morgue. “Good to know.”

  The lights flared, and the thing began to hum. He released her hand as they sped into motion.

  Her heart rate sped as the spinners took off. It was a smooth ride because the thing moved on air. Energy turned into light as it circled around them in a huge wheel, propelling them through a large tube. She’d known of the tunnels and spinners, had seen information about them on the news from time to time, and now she could say she had experienced one firsthand. She was encountering a lot of firsts since meeting York Richmond.

  Five minutes later, they stopped at the docking station beneath her apartment building. “Wow. Not bad.” She laughed shakily upon exiting the craft. “That was a lot better than the bus.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Thanks for giving it a try.”

  She glanced up and down the tube, noting lights illuminated the areas where they were, but everything remained pitch-black beyond the docking station. Another spinner approached, discharging lights along the route. It whizzed past them on another track.

  “Come on. I’ll walk you to the elevator,” he said.

  She followed, thinking she’d like to do it again. She couldn’t believe she’d never considered taking the underground to work. It was just accepted that people like her didn’t use this mode of transportation.

  The elevator arrived quickly. York moved in as if to escort her farther. She raised her hand to his arm, then thought better of it and clasped her fingers together. “Thank you. I’m fine going it alone.”

  He shrugged one shoulder and stepped back. “Okay. See you in the morning.”

  As the elevator doors closed, his eyes held hers, intense and unwavering. Then his hand shot out to stop the doors from closing. “Want me to pick you up on the way in?”

  How was it that whenever he made some bold move, her heart beat a little faster? She didn’t even hesitate. “Yes, that would be nice.”

  He gave a sharp nod. “Good.”

  This time, when he stepped away, the doors shut silently. She had the urge to call him back, but he was gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  In her living room, the blue-green digits on the clock read 10:00 p.m. Her tired, aching body whispered that it was past time for bed. She shed her jacket as she walked and slipped off her shoes, tossing everything into her room as sh
e passed the door. Brianna’s doorway was dark, which somehow touched on how odd the circumstances were. She didn’t work late—ever. Her job wasn’t like that. Actually, most GEI occupations weren’t like that. So it was strange not to have her vibrant little girl greet her arrival.

  She paused in the hallway, aware of the silence in the apartment. A shiver ran through her, and she decided it was just the cool tile. It felt nice on her weary feet.

  As she crossed the threshold, dim lights flicked on, creating a softly twinkling flower garden on the wall adjacent to the bed. Brianna slept soundly, surrounded by her favorite toys—a white unicorn with a rainbow-colored mane, a dozen forest animals, and three Global Dolls wrapped up in her arms.

  Kindra rested her hip on the edge of the bed, and the mattress adjusted to support her weight so Brianna remained undisturbed. Taking care not to wake her child, she eased two of the dolls to the side but left the third hugged beneath Brianna’s arm. Finally, she smoothed the hair along Brianna’s brow and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

  Brianna’s eyes fluttered open. “Mommy… I love you.” She rolled toward Kindra, reaching out a hand.

  Kindra took it. “I love you, too. Good night, ladybug.”

  A smile touched Brianna’s pink lips, but she had already returned to slumber.

  Kindra stood but was disinclined to leave. She clutched her arms about her middle while tuning in to Brianna’s breathing, the rise and fall of her chest. This virus would not touch her child. It would not.

  A bubble of frustration lodged in her chest. She should be at Seville doing something to find a cure, yet she was exhausted and only wanted to be with her daughter. She sidled over to a wingback chair of peach silk and collapsed onto its smooth cushion.

  She had planned on returning immediately to the lab, but now…she was just so tired. Plus she had agreed to ride with York in the morning. On her Flex, she checked for messages or updates that would be forwarded to her. Nothing.

  She released a long sigh and focused on letting go of the negative energy, along with the stale air. She allowed her head to relax on the padded headrest, and as her eyes drifted shut, she listened for any hint of change in Brianna’s sleeping breaths. The chair read her body cues and initiated the footrest mode.