Ruins

Kira felt unable to look away from the Ivie’s body and everything it represented. Too much blood. Too much loss. “You’re going to build a new species.”

“Human and Partial will be no more,” said Armin. “There will only be one species, one perfect species. I’ve done it before. I’ve unlocked the human genome and arranged it in perfect order, like notes in a symphony. I’ve honed the genetic template for the human form through dozens of generations of Partial technology, and you know that better than anyone. Because you’re the final result.”

Kira looked up, meeting his eyes, and he smiled.

“You,” he said, “my daughter, built on the model of my own DNA, polished and refined through countless drafts until I had eliminated all trace of flaw or imperfection. I had hoped some of the late-model Partials had survived, for they would be the ideal starting point for this new world, the first brushstroke on our new, blank canvas.”

“Okay,” said Marcus, stepping forward to place himself between Armin and Kira. “This whole conversation has been freaking me out, but that last sentence took it down a whole other path.”

“You want my DNA too,” said Kira. “My blood in a jar to take back to your lab.”

“I want you,” said Armin. “Your body and your mind.”

“I won’t go with you.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” said Kira. “I learned that from someone who was more of a parent to me than you could ever be.” She drew herself up as tall as she could. “If you want my blood, you’re going to have to take it.”

Armin sighed, and the energy in his face fell away like dead skin, leaving nothing behind but a dull, emotionless stare. “You’ve heard what I’m planning,” he said softly. “You understand that there is no other way.”

He pulled a small metal tube from a sheath on his belt, like a rounded trowel, sharpened on one end. The precise size and shape to puncture a human body and sluice out all the blood and tissue within. “None of us is more important than this. Not even my own daughter.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Dr. Cronus Vale used the link to clear a path through the crowded White Plains street, ignoring the stunned glances of the Partials he passed. His age alone marked him as an anomaly, for there were no Partials left who looked older than eighteen. The doctor and officer models were all part of early batches, long since expired, and his link data marked him as a god, a powerful being their biology had no choice but to obey. There were no guards at the door of his hotel, just as there were no housekeepers inside. The soldiers took turns cleaning it, infantrymen alternating with the women of the piloting corps, giving the building an austere, military feel. Everything in White Plains felt that way. Vale missed the country paradise of the Preserve, but there was no way to get back there now. He could commandeer a rotor, he supposed, but what then? Fly there in the deepening cold and worsening storm? Bring another group of Partials along and hope they would understand what he was trying to do? Rely on Morgan to not come out looking for him again? Vale wanted to see the Preserve once more, the friends that he’d made there, but more than that he wanted to keep the Preserve safe. If the only way to do that was to stay away, he’d stay away.

Especially now that there was a nuke on the loose. The stakes had been raised, and the few Partials who knew about it were clamoring to take the fight to the humans. They were already terrified by the thought of the bioweapon—Vale had left Dr. Morgan’s lab partly just to keep the army under control, halting every new plan for retaliation. If he told them the humans were on the way with a nuclear device in tow, he didn’t know if he’d be able to hold them back.

A Partial soldier named Vinci was waiting in the lobby; he was the one who’d warned Vale about the nuke. He’d been chasing Delarosa all the way from Long Island, but when he’d lost the canny human terrorist in Manhattan, he’d come straight to White Plains to recruit more people to the search. He watched Vale with somber eyes. “Any news?”

Vale shook his head. “Not here. We’ll talk in my room.” He led him up the elevator to a suite on the top floor, which Vale had converted to a command post. When the door was closed and locked, he turned to Vinci with a solemn look. “We’ve canvassed the Bronx with regular patrols, and put as many spotters as we can on the coast in case she tries to cross by water, but they haven’t turned up anything yet. It was smart of you to come straight to us, but we have to consider the possibility that Delarosa already crossed to the mainland before we established our patrols.”

“I put the men you gave me on regular routes in and around the city,” said Vinci, acknowledging the possibility that Delarosa was already on their doorstep. “I just don’t know if it will be enough.”