Page 5 of Perfection
He knelt beside the small body of Isabelle D-Gastion. Long blond hair framed a delicate face. The child could have been in a deep sleep, hugging a look-alike Global Doll.
He exhaled a shuddering breath and fought the sting in his eyes. It had been six years since he’d been faced with the death of someone this young, and his son’s passing had not been so peaceful. His hand shook as he opened the crime scene bag. Images of his boy flashed in his mind—a toothless grin, a small hand tossing a red ball, thin arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
He squeezed his eyes shut, opened them.
The quiet sound of Vi’s voice brought his head up. Standing on the opposite side of Isabelle, she dictated information into her spot computer.
She met his gaze. “Hey, I didn’t consider it earlier, but why did the captain assign us to this one? It’s not our RO.”
“Rotation doesn’t come into play here. B-Gastion requested me.”
She angled her head. “Oh, right.”
He sensed her watching him, perhaps looking for some reaction. He just passed his med-scanner over the girl, watching the monitor for any sign of physical trauma and finding none.
“This doesn’t make sense, Vi. No trauma. And GEIs don’t die, even in an accident situation. Primps can put them back together with cloning and such.”
“Unless the injury is to the head. The brain is the one organ that can’t be cloned.”
The health packages for GEIs far exceeded the basic medical unit of immunity to disease and illness granted to Coders like him. The genetic code of Coders remained largely unaltered. When they did get alterations, they were the kind that attached to stem cells and altered the genes from the outside in, as opposed to the ground-up method from inception used with GEIs. In the early years of genetic engineering, participating in the new science had required money.Perfectionhad cost a hefty sum.
So did saving a life,he thought bitterly.Even a young one.
Vi averted her gaze from the girl’s body. “Yeah, strange.”
He shoved the test equipment into his bag and zipped it. “There isn’t a mark on her. Nothing.”
“Then what killed her?” Vi’s voice snagged.
York stood. “You okay?”
She nodded but avoided eye contact. He knew better than to believe her. It was a code of denial they shared.
“Any guesses?”
He crossed his arms to control the tightness in his chest and shrugged. “Some sort of asphyxiation, maybe? Poison? I don’t know.”
His QuL beeped in his ear and he responded with a brusque, “York.”
“When are you going to get rid of that QuickLink? It’s a dinosaur,” Vi whispered. Then she held up a hand, talking more to herself than to him. “I know, I know. Less likely to be traced by criminals.”
He rolled his eyes and focused on Captain Avery’s voice. As usual, the captain sounded worried and was probably getting hit from all sides. Damn politics. Avery asked for a crisis update. York obliged with a list of stats. “We’re treating this like a suspicious death until we learn differently. We’ll check out any contacts. Wait to see if there are demands. Maybe it’s extorsion gone bad.”
He listened to his superior’s instructions, grimaced, and said, “Right. One of us will go over there.”
He disconnected.
“Now what?” Vi asked.
“Avery wants one of us to fetch a geneticist since we don’t have an expert on staff. Then take ’em to the morgue to evaluate the…situation.”
She pursed her lips and shifted her attention to wrapping up her notes.
“Vi? Talk to me.” At her obvious reluctance, he added their customary, “Flip you for it.” He withdrew his lucky coin from his pocket. It was a 1976 quarter from the days when they actually used coins.
She slowly shook her head.
Finally, she curled her spot computer into her chest. Good thing it was made of flexible material. She looked as if she was going to crush it in her hand. Her almond-shaped eyes blazed. “You know how I hate those scientists.”
