Page 50 of Perfection
Chapter Ten
As he burst onto the street outside Seville, York scanned the area for a vehicle to commandeer. Unfortunately, the underground didn’t travel to Vi’s place. He needed a transporter—andfast.
He spotted a sleek police jet pack at the end of the block. He ran past an officer, flashed his ID. “Be right back.”
“Hey! Hey, why don’t you call for a drone?”
“No time.” York strapped in.
“Would you like autopilot?” the computer asked.
“Negative.”
He jetted skillfully above traffic and zoomed between skyscrapers. Vi’s place wasn’t far. That fact her LE alarm had activated was a bad sign. The tiny bead implanted beneath the skin near each serving police officer’s collarbone relayed vital statistics to headquarters. Such a warning rarely went off, and it was mostly left to computer systems to monitor. It’d been that way since the end of the 2099 skirmish with a Kalgronite Space Station. Still, InSIGHT must have picked up the information and sounded the alarm.
York executed a one-eighty, circling down to the parking lot. He spotted another police vehicle and a medi-jet arriving in front of Vi’s building as he landed at street level. He was already out of the pack and running when he heard the computer’s smooth, calm voice reporting, “We’ve arrived at your destination.”
It was a maddening quirk about computers. They always reacted at the same speed, with indifference to the situation. No sense of urgency. No compassion. No love, hate, or pain. With the possible exception of Comp Nine and possibly the other HERO computers equipped with AI.
He stepped on the elevator.
He was still fixated on the benefits and frustrations of technology when the elevator doors opened on the forty-first floor. His gaze zeroed in on two men down the hall. One was Shishido. The other was York’s older brother.
Shit.
His stare collided with Cal’s, and York realized the battle they’d begun years ago continued. The feud was the reason York had fled to the other side of Chicago. He also knew it didn’t—couldn’t—matter when Vi was in trouble.
York rushed down the hall. Cal stepped back a pace, crossing his arms over his chest.
“The apartment computer’s locked up,” Shishido said.
“And your override key?”
Shishido shot him an apologetic grimace. “Don’t have it.”
“Vi! Open up!” York called, pounding his fist on the door.
A cute, animated dog appeared on the small screen set in the wall beside the door, saying, “Hello. May I ask who’s calling?”
York wasn’t amused. “Lieutenant York Richmond. Let me in.” He aimed his ID wristband at the computer and punched in the address, requesting a police lock override.
“Affirmative voice match.”
“Speed it up. This isn’t a social call,” York said.
Cal finally spoke. “I entered the regular password. It didn’t work. She must have changed it recently.”
“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Miss Vi isn’t at home,” the comp box said pleasantly.
“Like hell she’s not.” He pointed his surveillance scanner at the wall and hit the access buttons. The scanner picked up heat, enough to indicate a person was inside the room. Finally, the door accepted the police override, unlocked and swung open.
An alarm sounded a high-pitched squeal. “Intruder at the front door,” Vi’s apartment computer warned.
York led the way in. His brother pushed past Shishido and was right on York’s heels. The medics would have their equipment up here in minutes.
Everything seemed untouched in the living room. No one was there. Then a soft moan came from the bedroom. His stomach twisted into a knot of both hope and dread the size of the antique baseball glove displayed on the wall. He hurried to the bedroom, ignoring Cal’s presence.
Vi lay on the floor, her beautiful face distorted almost beyond recognition. Mutation lesions marked her skin, her nose was deformed, brow bones extended, lips swollen to twice their normal size. York grasped the situation instantly and fell to his knees at her side. “This is no suicide by mutation. She wouldn’t do that. No way!” Vi would never use a substance meant to change her genetics in a horrible manner such as this.
