Page 103 of Perfection

“Shit, she couldn’t even start the thing.”

“I’m sorry,” the car computer said. “Your fingerprint isn’t on the driving list. Do you have the access code?”

Oh, fooltar. York had told her that. She swallowed. Think. And then she remembered. “Doll-baby. The override code is doll-baby,” she said in a rush.

The engine whirred to life. There was no time for second thoughts. Like a robot, she went through the motions she’d seen York do every time they drove, except she engaged the autopilot, selecting the Urgent mode. The onboard computer did the rest as the vehicle took off, pushed into traffic, and raced toward the cryo center.

Guilt wove a web inside her. She should have been quicker with the vaccine. She should have returned from London sooner. She should not have spent so much time savoring her moments with York. He’d somehow become one of the most important people in her life, second only to Brianna. Nothing could break the bond between mother and child.

Still, there was a huge gash in her heart knowing she’d left him behind to deal with a crazed A-Isaac, even if it was what he’d told her to do. She had to trust he would get to the cryo center and find the bombs as he’d promised. For all of them. She prayed he’d discover them before they all blew up. Then she wondered about the kids at the ice rink. Were they at risk, also?

Amazingly, her mind was too filled with concern to worry much about the air-car as it flew high above the skyscrapers. Either that or she’d just gotten used to flying.

The last few miles seemed to take a millennium, but the instant the transporter landed, she sprang from the vehicle. Clutching the vaccine case, she sprinted for the building.

The place was absurdly calm. A-Isaac clearly hadn’t arrived. Maybe that meant York had truly stopped him. At the entrance, she scanned her ID with exaggerated care. The door allowed her entrance.

A few minutes later, she was in the main cryo chamber.

She set the green case on the table and opened it. “Start the thaw,” she told the few employees monitoring the computer-controlled cryo units. “And I need every staff member in here. Now.”

A man with a shock of red hair combed neatly to one side looked at her with a pinched brow. “Why the rush?”

She didn’t have time for questions. “Because a bomb could blow us to the stars any minute.”

Red took a step back. “Fuck.”

“Just do your job. I promised I wouldn’t let these children die.” She piled vials and injection guns beside her for easy accessibility. “How long before they come around?”

“Using a warming flush, twenty minutes.”

She gave a sharp nod. “Okay.”

Two dozen or so men and women dressed in violet suits streamed into the room.

As the group neared the table, her determination grew. “Today we’re going to see what you’re made of, ladies and gents,” she said, her voice potent with challenge. “When the children wake, you need to give them an inoculation immediately, then escort them three blocks down the street to the post office. It should be safe there. We don’t stop until every last person is out of the building. Two children per person each trip. You’ll have to make many trips.” She peered at the tired faces in front of her. “Four of you need to remain with the children at the post office until help arrives.”

“I can get a bus,” a worker said.

She nodded. “Great.”

Kindra grabbed her materials from the table. Stunned into silence, each staff member followed her instructions, taking a vial of vaccine and an inoculation gun. They each manned a post between a pair of incubators. Kindra walked the center aisle. The children moaned as they came awake and the vaccinations began. This is not how she would have had them wake. Their parents should have been there to comfort them.

When she reached the back of the room, she paused, looking over her shoulder. Workers carried a child on each hip, making a beeline out the door. She turned and entered the adjacent room where Brianna and the other children in the obsolete cryo pods slept.

Since the unit was old, it took Brianna longer to wake. Kindra no longer heard the whimpers and shuffling of feet from the main chamber.

Brianna’s pod stood open. Kindra hesitated, waiting for some movement. Her daughter opened her blue eyes. “Mommy,” Brianna whispered.

With a sigh of relief, she gave Brianna the life-saving vaccine. then lifted her into her arms, hugging her close.

She paused looking around at the opened pods. But there were a several units still sealed. They were the ones frozen for reasons other than the virus. And they couldn’t be opened or moved. Her eyes settled on Danny’s pod. She drew a heavy breath.

She’d been wrong. She couldn’t get everyone out. If they couldn’t find the bombs…

Brianna moaned, and Kindra’s heart skipped. Then the door to her right slammed open.

A-Isaac held an inoculation gun pointed at her.