Page 67 of Perfection

Stacey rubbed shaky fingers over her face, then back up over her eyes. “We’ve all had the basic genetic alterations against disease. How can she be sick?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll find out. Don’t worry.”

Amanda curled the child against her as they headed for the air-tran to take them into town. She acted as Fiona’s buffer. Stacey clutched the child’s stuffed kitten as she watched her daughter. The man sitting across from her looked the sick child up and down before moving to the back of the car. Several other people met her eyes, then quickly glanced away. They, too, took seats farther away.

Fiona appeared to be napping, and unease swept through Amanda. Children didn’t really do that these days. Part of her couldn’t blame people for their reactions to the ailing child. They were, after all, a product of their society.

By the time they reached the stop for the Seville Genetics Center, she was a ball of nerves. What if they wouldn’t let her in? What if York wasn’t here? He was Fiona’s best chance of being seen by one of the doctors.

When they disembarked, she scanned the area for an entrance. The main entrance was too far from the air-tran stop to trek all the way there with Fiona. And then she saw them.

Thank God.York and Cal were making their way toward the building from a parking area. “York! Cal!”

Her sons jogged over to join her. York looked shocked as he examined Fiona, flushed and moaning softly. “What’s going on?” He immediately scooped the little girl into his strong arms.

“She’s ill,” Amanda said.

“What?” Cal asked, his tone rising.

Stacey said, “We were wondering if… Is it possible Fiona could have what the other children are sick with?”

“No. Kindra didn’t mention anything about the virus attacking Coders. Only D Generation.”

“Are you sure?” Amanda asked. “But… Can you check? Do a test to find out why she’s ill? It’s too bizarre with the D generation illness and all.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt,” York said. He led the way into the building, flashing his police credentials for a volunteer.

Amanda breathed a sigh of relief, certain York’s doctor friend would be able to help.

* * *

York almost forgot about his brother, mother, and Stacey trailing him as they followed the volunteer into Kindra’s domain. His attention was fixed on the sweet young girl. Fiona’s eyes were closed and her breathing sounded shallow to him. The police techs detailed to check Global Dolls at Seville were already in the conference room adjacent to the lab.

Shit, this place is crowded.

A group of other parents and children were waiting at the far end. But Kindra wasn’t anywhere in sight.

He found a spare chair for Stacey to sit down and placed Fiona in her lap. “Hey,” he called to a lab assistant, waving her over. “This is Fiona. I need a blood sample taken and analyzed ASAP.”

The petite GEI with silver-blue eyes stepped back. “This is most unusual. We don’t usually—” Her eyes widened, closed, then she swallowed hard.

For a second, he wondered if she would deny his request, well aware this facility probably had not treated a Coder—ever. Relief rushed through him when she grabbed a blood test strip and methodically drew a blood sample from Fiona’s arm.

If whatever was affecting Fiona turned out to be the virus, too… He palmed his face and his generous growth of beard. He’d see to it that Coders received the same consideration as GEIs. His gaze shot to his mother. He thought of all she’d been fighting for. This might be the biggest test ever.

York asked the assistant, “Do you know where Dr. B-Zaika is?”

“No, Lieutenant. I haven’t seen her.” She raised the blood test strip. “I’ll process this.”

The assembly of people closest to them dispersed, each doing what seemed to be their job, and leaving York and his family in limbo. They weren’t anyone’s responsibility—or so it appeared. Therefore, what they did didn’t matter.

It seemed a long while before the door opened and Kindra walked in. She came to an abrupt halt as her gaze swept over the tight-knit group. Her brow wrinkled as she looked at his mother. “What’s this?”

York walked over to her but drew up just short of invading her personal space. His feet tingled to take one more step closer. To take hold of her hand. To confide in her about his anxiety, his fear that this disease may be touching his family, too.

He did none of those things. Instead, he explained what was happening and who the newcomers were. “This is my mother, Amanda, and my cousin, Stacey. And this sweet girl is Fiona, her daughter. She’s four.”

York held his breath, waiting for his mom to say something rude and alienate Kindra. For once, his mother held her tongue and simply nodded in greeting.