Partials

Kira nodded; it really did sound stupid when he said it like that. She glanced over at Nandita, wondering what her opinion would be on the matter, but the old woman was still working in the garden, completely unaware. Kira turned back to Marcus. “I know it sounds like the most arrogant thing in the whole world, but I—” She paused and took a breath, looking him squarely in the eyes. He was watching, waiting; he was taking her seriously. She put her hand on his. “I know I can help, at the very least. There has to be something that’s been overlooked. I joined maternity because I thought that was the nerve center, you know? I thought that was the whole point, the place where it all happened. But now that I’ve been there and I’ve seen what they’re doing, I know it’s not going to work.

“If I can put together something concrete for Skousen, I bet I can transfer to research full-time—it’ll take another month or two, but I can do it.”

“That’s a good move for you,” said Marcus. “It’ll be good for them, too—coming from maternity like that, you’ll have a different perspective from the others. And I know there’s an opening, because we got a transfer from research into surgery last month.”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” said Kira, “a new perspective. The maternity team, the research team, everybody’s been studying the infants exclusively. But we don’t need to look for a cure, we need to look for immunity. We’re resistant to the symptoms, so there has to be something in us that fends off the virus. The only ones who aren’t immune are the babies, and yet that’s where we keep looking.”

“That’s why you need my blood,” said Marcus.

Kira nodded, rubbing her fingers over the back of his hand. That was why she loved Marcus: He was funny when she needed to laugh, and serious when she needed to talk. He understood her, plain and simple.

She plucked a blade of grass and slowly peeled it until nothing remained but the soft yellow core. She studied it a moment, then threw it at Marcus; it traveled only a few inches before it caught the air, stopped, and fluttered in erratic circles straight back into her lap.

“Nice shot,” grinned Marcus. He looked up over her shoulder. “Isolde’s coming.”

Kira turned and smiled, waving at her “sister.” Isolde was tall and pale and golden-haired—the lone light-skinned outlier in Nandita’s makeshift foster home. Isolde waved back, grinning, though Kira could see that the smile was forced and tired. Marcus scooted over as she approached, making room beside them on the grass, but Isolde shook her head politely.

“Thanks, but this is my best suit.” She dropped her briefcase and stood next to them wearily, arms folded, staring straight ahead.

“Rough day in the Senate?” Kira asked.

“Is there ever a smooth one?” Isolde glanced around, looking for something to sit on, then sighed and sat down on her briefcase, cross-legged to keep her pale gray pants out of the grass. Kira studied her in concern—Isolde could barely even mention her job without swooning over Senator Hobb. If she wasn’t doing that, she must really be exhausted. Isolde stared blankly, then roused herself to look at Kira and Marcus. “Hey, neither of you do much traveling outside of the city, right?”

“Not really,” said Kira. She looked at Marcus, who shook his head. “When they call us on salvage runs, I guess, but never really on our own. Why?”

“Because they just voted to institute border checks,” said Isolde. “The Voice hit a watchtower last week—knocked the whole thing down and took off with the soldiers who were manning it. Combine that with the raid on the old school depot and you’ve got at least one cell of the Voice working right here in East Meadow, maybe more.” She shrugged. “That’s a little too close to home. The Senate figures the best way to root them out are searches and examinations every time somebody enters or leaves the city.”

“The perimeter of the city is huge,” said Kira. “There’s no way they can patrol the entire thing.”

“That doesn’t mean they shouldn’t try, though,” said Marcus. “It’s better than nothing—”

“Please don’t,” said Isolde, rubbing her temples. “I’ve heard these same arguments a hundred different times today, and I don’t need to hear them again. The vote is done, the checks are official, let’s stop arguing about it.”

“How did Senator Hobb vote?” asked Kira. Isolde was his personal assistant. She opened one eye, peered wearily at Kira, then opened the other and crossed her arms.

“If you must know, he voted for,” said Isolde. “He wasn’t in favor of sacrificing personal rights to privacy, but he didn’t want to stand in the way of stopping another attack.” She shrugged. “I don’t think he’s right, but I don’t have any better suggestions. If the Voice have started kidnapping people now, who knows what they’ll do next?”