Partials

“Even in these uniforms they’re going to recognize us,” said Jayden. “Kira and Marcus at the very least once we get to the hospital—everyone there knows them.”

“And they’re the ones who know the hospital,” said Tovar. “None of us do, at least not well enough. Here’s the plan: Farad drives you back and gets you through the border, while the more notorious members of your band stay in the back and keep your eyes down. It’s risky, but if you’re careful you can make it work. You drive to the hospital, to that rear service door you were telling me about.”

“The same one we slipped out of the night of the riot,” said Kira. “There’s a big ramp leading down to it, which will make us hard to see—any guard around the building will know we’re there, obviously, but they won’t have a good look at anyone who gets in or out of the jeep.”

Tovar nodded. “Make your way through the lower levels, up to maternity, and grab your friend. This is the trickiest part.”

“Which is why I’m going,” said Gianna. “Once you guide us through the back hallways, I can get in and out of maternity without raising eyebrows—nobody knows me, and with this uniform I’ll look official.”

“You hope,” said the bearded man.

“Seriously, Rowan,” said Tovar, “is this really the time? Do we have to argue with every little step of the plan?”

“Your so-called plan is just ‘good luck and don’t act suspicious,’” said the bearded man. “You’re sending them into the heart of enemy territory, I’d like to think you’d have something a little more workable.”

“I don’t even want them to go,” said Tovar, throwing up his hands. “I’m trying to plan a full-scale assault of this city, and this is the best I could come up with given my time and resources.”

The bearded Rowan turned to Gianna. “Are you willing to risk your life for ‘the best he could come up with’?”

“We’re willing to risk it for this,” said Kira, and held up the syringe. “This is not an abstract concept, this is an actual cure—an actual injection that will save a child’s life. Can you even imagine that? A living, breathing child that lives for a week, a month, a year; a child that laughs and crawls and learns to talk.” Her voice cracked. “I would die for that in a heartbeat.”

The room was silent.

Rowan stirred first. “Being worth the risk doesn’t justify a risky plan.”

“This plan will work,” said Tovar fervently. “Farad has the codes, and our informants in the city have fed us the full rundown of hospital security. We can get them in, and we can get Madison Sato out. We’ll take her to the eastern farms, she can deliver there, and the baby will live.”

“I’m going to split the cure into three separate doses,” said Kira. “One stays with Tovar, here in the back lines, to be used on Madison’s baby Arwen. The second goes with us, just in case Arwen has already been born; depending on how advanced the virus is, we have to inject her on-site.”

Tovar pointed at Rowan. “The third goes with you, east to Flanders or Riverhead or somewhere the Grid presence is weakest. Inject every newborn you can find.” He looked at the syringe in Kira’s hands. “The cure is too important to risk on a single mission.”

Kira nodded, but a niggling voice in the back of her mind posed the question: Do I have the pheromone? If I’m really a Partial, can I cure RM too? She almost didn’t dare to consider it—didn’t dare to hope—it would be too easy, and nothing so far had been easy. As soon as I get the chance—as soon as I have the right equipment—I have to test myself.

Gianna whispered reverently. “We’re pinning an awful lot of hope on this.”

“I know,” said Kira.

“So that’s the team,” said Rowan, “Gianna, the new guy, and these two medics.”

“And us,” said Jayden. “Madison’s my sister.”

Xochi nodded. “And Kira’s mine.”

Kira felt a pang of conscience, as stark as if she’d willfully betrayed them all. What would they do if they knew what I really am?

The car died two miles northeast of East Meadow. Gianna and Farad spent nearly an hour under the hood, cursing and banging and trying to get it started; Kira and Marcus sat by the curb and planned their route through the hospital: where to go, how to get there, and what specific medical phrases to teach Gianna to help get Madison out of the nurses’ sight. Kira had kept the syringe in her own gear, carefully wrapped and cushioned and strapped to her waist. She touched it reflexively, making sure it was safe. Farad walked over tiredly and dropped a chunk of oily black metal on the road beside her.

Marcus looked at it. “Bad gas?”

“The gas is the cleanest I’ve seen in a while,” said Farad. “This is the starter—it’s not cracked or bent or gummed up, it’s just … old.” He flopped down on the curb beside them. “Of all the things that could have gone wrong, I never would have guessed this.”

“But you can still get us in,” said Kira, “right?”