Page 95 of Perfection

At that moment, she knew she loved him. Her heart ached at the futility of it. She shook her head.

These were both GEI and Coder children. And they had to save them all.

* * *

The way York solved one problem after another amazed her. Once they confirmed a child had the virus, he or she went into the system. He’d set up a triage area in the rink’s lobby where the children received sedatives to put them to sleep. Unlike the kids in the cryo units, these children would get outdated medical care. They would even need drip IVs. That wasn’t established until they were asleep in their own little plastic oxygenated cocoon of ice. The ice rink beneath them would keep the makeshift freezer bags chilled longer.

Another difference was these parents weren’t entirely on board with the procedure. Kindra wasn’t sure what would happen to the children with their poor-man’s cryogenic units, but she had no doubt what would happen if they did nothing: they would die, just like Isabelle. She took a deep breath. It was her job to explain the process to the uneasy parents and help them make the best choice. If they were infected and chose not to participate in the experimental cryo project, then they were quarantined in an adjacent section of the building, with a parent required to remain with the child.

The process ran like a fine-tuned robotic production. The child stayed with the parents until the micro-dot initiated a deep sleep. Then one of the staff members carried the patient into the ice rink, where the child was packed in ice inside a plastic sack. IVs would administer medication continuously, and they were given oxygen via portable tanks.

They had begun at four in the afternoon, and the process lasted long into the night when the final child was tucked in. Kindra sighed long and hard. It had been an emotionally draining day. And then there were the six children whose parents rejected the procedure. Her eyes misted. She gave them two days, max. She could only hope the parents would change their minds in time.

* * *

The lobby of the ice rink was quiet and blessedly empty. But they couldn’t stay. York motioned for Kindra and Cal to follow him. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Kindra asked.

“We need to chat with Captain Avery. The volunteers will keep watch here.”

Cal and Kindra followed, and a short time later, they were back at the precinct and in Avery’s office. York dropped into a chair, and Kindra and Cal selected seats for themselves.

York leaned forward, his body tense, ready for a fight. “Any news from Seville?”

“No,” Avery said. “There are procedures to follow, and Seville knows it. They’re being completely uncooperative—going on the defensive, taking the position that they’re not to blame for the children’s illness and it’s not their responsibility. Passing the buck to the World Health Organization and other genetic facilities. And shifting the blame to Dr. B-Zaika, claiming this is due to a mistake in her part of the D Generation genetic code.”

York launched into a curse-filled tirade. He’d been through something like this when his son had been ill.

Kindra’s face turned red as her eyes met Cal’s, then one by one each person’s in the room.

Pulling himself together, York stood and paced. “What’s our legal stance? Can we go in there and access the computer tonight? We’re out of options. As it is, six of the GEI parents didn’t get on board with our makeshift cryo units. And I can’t blame them. But dammit to hell—” He slammed his fist on the desk.

Kindra flinched.

“Red tape’s the problem.” Avery ran a hand through his blond hair. “The government has ultimate authority, but the Committee has the right to protect proprietary information. A court will have to decide who wins.”

“But we’re out of time,” Kindra said. “Those children will pay the price if we wait.”

“Then I guess it boils down to if Seville’s prepared for us and how knowledgeable you are about their system. And how lucky we get,” York said.

They all listened to the procedure and debated the pros and cons of breaking into Seville. Kindra voiced the one certainty that superseded everything else. “We’ve got righteousness on our side. We can’t just sit back and watch kids die.”

York faced Avery, hands on hips, and waited.

“Okay,” Avery agreed. “You have the go-ahead.”

York was pumped. For once, he understood his mom: doing something was better than doing nothing. Both GEIs and Coders were being hurt by this virus, but only one person was doing the hurting. He would bet on it. Two of the biggest questions remained: who and why?