Read Partials Online

Authors: Dan Wells

Tags: #Romance, #Science Fiction, #Young Adult, #Adventure, #Fantasy

Partials (8 page)

BOOK: Partials
5.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“Well, yeah,” said Kira, nodding, “of course. But I’m not in no-man’s-land anymore—I’m in a military base. That’s got to be, like, the safest place on the island.”

Mkele watched her calmly. “Have you ever seen a Partial, Miss Walker?”

“In person? No. I was only five during the war, and no one’s seen any since then.”

“How can you be sure?”

Kira frowned. “What do you mean? No one’s seen one in years, they’re … well, I’m alive, for one thing, so apparently none of them have seen me either.”

“Let us assume,” said Mr. Mkele, “just for the moment, that whatever the Partials are planning is larger in scope than the murder of one teenage girl.”

“You don’t have to be insulting about it.”

“Again, I apologize.”

“So is that really what this is about?” Kira asked, with more than a hint of exasperation. “Partials? Really? Don’t we have more important threats to deal with?”

“If a Partial were planning something big,” he said, ignoring her question, “some insidious attack on us or our resources or any other aspect of our lives, the most effective way would be to infiltrate us directly. They look exactly like us; they could walk among us without any fear of discovery. You’re a medic; you should know this as well as anyone.”

Kira frowned. “The Partials are gone, Mr. Mkele—they backed us up onto this island and then disappeared. No one has seen one anywhere—not here, not on the border, not anywhere.”

Mkele flashed a small, mocking smile. “The innocent complacence of a plague baby. You say you were five when the Partials rebelled; the world you see is the only world you’ve ever known. How much of the rebellion do you remember, Ms. Walker? How much of the old world? Do you know what even one Partial is capable of, much less an entire battalion?”

“We have bigger problems than the Partials,” said Kira again, trying not to lose her cool. It felt like the same old attitude she got at the hospital—from every adult, really, a stubborn, brutal insistance on dealing with yesterday’s problems instead of today’s. “The Partials destroyed the world, I know, but that was eleven years ago, and then they disappeared, and meanwhile RM is continuing to kill our children, tensions are rising because of the Hope Act, the Voice are out there raiding farms and stealing supplies, and I don’t think—”

“The Voice,” said Mkele, “look even more human than the Partials.”

“What’s your point?”

“This is the point, Ms. Walker. The Partials may indeed be gone, but they hardly need stage an outright attack on the island if tensions between the settlement and the Voice progress any further. RM is performing a more insidious function than even the Partials devised: our inability to produce healthy children and the measures we’ve subsequently taken to try to deal with it—”

“You mean the Hope Act.”

“Among other things, yes … they are tearing the island apart. I have a hard time believing that what happened to your team yesterday didn’t have something to do with this, and unless there is overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I’m going to assume that it was part of a plan to destabilize the human civilization and thus to hasten our extinction.”

“You are an incredibly paranoid person.”

Mkele tilted his head to the side. “I’ve been charged, as I said, with the safety of the human race. It’s my job to be paranoid.”

Kira’s patience was wearing thin.

“Fine, then—let’s get this over with. What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about the veterinary clinic.”

“What?”

“The clinic you and Marcus Valencio were assigned to salvage—tell me what you saw there.”

“I thought you wanted to know about the bomb.”

“I have already spoken to other witnesses who were present both before and during the explosion, and their information trumps yours in that area. The clinic, on the other hand, you experienced directly. Tell me about it.”

“It was a clinic,” said Kira, searching for something interesting to say. “It was the same as every clinic we salvage—old, smelly, falling apart. There was a pack of dogs living in it, and, um … what else do you want to know?”

“Did you see any dogs when you were there?”

“No, why? Is that important?”

“I have no idea,” said Mkele, “though it does seem odd that a pack of wild dogs would fail to defend their home against a group of invaders.”

“I guess so,” said Kira. “Maybe the salvage group that went through a few days earlier scared them all off.”

“It’s possible.”

“Um, what else…,” said Kira. “We started on the meds, and then the bomb went off after just a few minutes, so we didn’t get a chance to test the X-ray machine.”

“So you saw the front exterior, the foyer, and the medicine storage.”

Kira nodded. “Yeah.”

“Did you see anything out of the ordinary?”

“Nothing comes to mind. Except…” She paused, remembering the marks in the dust. “Now that you mention it, the pill bottles had all been messed with before we got there.”

“Messed with?”

“Moved,” said Kira, “like someone had gone through them or something. Like they were looking for something.”

“How recently?”

“Not very long. There were smudges and tracks and marks all through the dust, both up in the cupboard and down on the counter.”

“It could have been, as you suggested with the dogs, the grunt salvage crew that went through before you.”

“I guess,” said Kira, “but I’ve never seen any of the grunt crews go through the meds like that.”

Mr. Mkele pursed his lips, thinking. “Do any of the drugs you found there have recreational uses?”

“You think one of the grunts was trying to get high?”

“It is one of many possibilities, yes.”

Kira closed her eyes, racking her brain to remember the names of the medicines. “I’m not sure—it’s all kind of rote at this point, you know? You know which ones last and which ones don’t, and you toss them in the piles without really thinking about it. But these vet clinics always have painkillers, stuff like Rimadyl, and a big enough dose of almost any painkiller will get you high. It might also kill you, though, unless you use the military nanoparticle stuff that obviously wouldn’t be in a veterinary clinic. Aside from that, though…” She paused, thinking. If she were a Voice, living in the wilderness and getting into fights with the Defense Grid, she’d have bigger concerns than recreational painkillers. She started to see where Mkele was coming from, and thought about the clinic as a military target. “Clinics like that have a lot of meds a group of rebels might find really useful,” she said. “Antibiotics, antiparasitics, flea powders and shampoos—there’s any number of things a band of forest raiders could make good use of.”

“Interesting,” said Mkele. “You’ll have to forgive my ignorance on the subject of veterinary clinics, but do you think there’s any way to find a record of their inventory? It might be possible to determine, within a small margin of error, exactly what might have been present, missing, or tampered with.”

“I doubt they have anything on paper,” said Kira, “but the clinic had a computer system. You could hook it up to a generator and hope they stored their inventory on the hard drive. If they stored it on an exterior network, you’re probably out of luck.” They used computers in the hospital, thanks to the solar panels, but the old world had used them for everything, all linked together in a worldwide network Kira couldn’t even fathom. It had collapsed along with the power grid, and everything on it had been lost forever.

“We’ll do that,” said Mkele, nodding. “Is there anything else you think might help us?”

Kira shrugged. “If I remember anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Thank you very much for your time,” said Mkele, gesturing to the door. “You’re free to go.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

P
rivate Brown drove Kira home in a small wagon, and she sat in the back holding tightly to Marcus’s hand. Jayden and his soldiers were staying for more debriefing. She didn’t see Gianna or Tovar.

It was nearing twilight, and the rocking of the wagon was putting Marcus to sleep. Kira watched as his head drooped, nodding, then jerked up as he came awake, then slowly dropped again. Over and over. The horse’s hoofbeats echoed dully off the empty houses, but as they drew closer to the populated area, Kira saw the familiar signs of human activity: painted houses, mowed lawns, roofs that were still standing. East Meadow. Kira watched closely for the gleam of reflected light, and smiled when she saw it: glass windows. Everywhere else on the island the windows had been shattered by cats and birds and weather and the uneven shifting as wooden walls rotted around them. Not here. Here the windows were protected and cared for, and most were still as clean and clear as a piece of solid sky. Out in the wilderness there were thieves and the Voice and the dying carcass of an entire world.

Here, there were glass windows.

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” said Kira, bumping Marcus’s ear with her shoulder. “We’re almost home.”

“I didn’t order sushi.”

“What?”

Marcus opened his eyes warily. “What did I say?”

“Nothing I have to smack you for. You’re lucky you were dreaming about food instead of girls.”

“I’m male,” said Marcus, rubbing his eyes. “It was a fifty-fifty shot.”

“Our overnight vacation turned into two days, a Voice attack, and a military debrief,” said Kira. “You think we’ll get in trouble for missing work today at the hospital?”

“The Defense Grid must have told them what was going on,” said Marcus, stretching the kinks from his neck. “I figure if we even try to go in for the rest of the day, they’ll send us home with ration packs of chicken soup.”

Kira laughed. “That sounds like an excellent reason not to go in.”

Marcus grinned and looked at the sun. “Not much daylight left, anyway. And if they’d send us home from the day shift, there’s no way they’d let us work the night.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Kira, shifting her weight on the hard floor of the wagon. “I’m going to head home, get cleaned up, and fall asleep. I might wake up for the party this weekend, but I’m not making any promises.”

“I wouldn’t miss that party for the world,” said Marcus. “Xochi’s gonna make a chicken—a real, live chicken. Though I suppose it won’t be live for long. I’ll even pluck the scabby thing myself.”

“You think her mother will be there?”

“Senator Kessler?” asked Marcus, his jaw falling open in disbelief. “Xochi owns a gun now—Kessler won’t get anywhere near the place.”

Kira laughed and nodded. She hoped Xochi wouldn’t actually shoot her adopted mother—but she couldn’t be sure.

“Just bring something to share this time,” said Kira, turning back to Marcus and tapping him pointedly in the chest. “I’m not covering for you like last time.”

“That was a one-time thing,” said Marcus, laughing, “and it wasn’t last time, it was four times ago, and I’ve covered your share way more than that.”

“I’m just saying,” said Kira, poking him again in the chest, “I don’t want my good-for-nothing, freeloader boyfriend to make me look bad in front of everybody. Again.” She poked him one last time, glared at him playfully, then poked him again for good measure.

“Do you poke all the boys, or am I special?”

She leaned closer. “It’s just you.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Until somebody better comes along.”

Marcus put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her in for another kiss, on the mouth this time, slow and soft and perfect. Kira pressed herself closer, feeling his body against hers, thinking about what he’d said at the clinic. Was it time? Was she ready?

“Guys,” said Brown, “I’m like two feet away.”

Kira pulled back, embarrassed. “Sorry.”

“I’m not,” said Marcus. “Totally worth it.”

“You said the blue house, right?” Brown pointed ahead to the row of houses, and Kira recognized her street.

“Yeah, the blue one’s mine.”

Brown nodded. “Is Romeo getting off with you?”

“I would,” said Marcus, “but Nandita wouldn’t let me in anyway. I’m just two streets over, if you can do it.”

“Not a problem.” The young soldier slowed the wagon and pulled the horse to a stop. Kira gave Marcus a final peck on the cheek and hopped off.

“There’s Nandita,” said Marcus, straightening up and pointing. Kira turned and saw her working busily in her garden. Marcus lowered his voice. “See if she’s got some herbs for the chicken.”

“Rosemary, I assume,” said Kira, and Marcus nodded with a grin. “Anything else?”

“Whatever she can spare,” said Marcus. “Everything in your garden is awesome.”

“You got it,” said Kira. “Thanks, Brown.”

The soldier smiled. “Call me Shaylon.”

“Easy, tiger,” said Marcus. “She’s spoken for.”

The wagon pulled away, and Kira shouldered her pack and walked toward her house. Kira shared her home with several other girls and their “nanny,” Nandita, though after eleven years she seemed more like a grandmother than anything else. Between the Partial War and RM, no family had survived intact: Every surviving wife became a widow; every child an orphan. Those few humans who’d been immune to the virus had banded together for protection, gathering here on Long Island because it was a developed, defensible position with good access to fish and arable land. The children had been divided among the adults, and Nandita had happily laid claim to four of them: Kira, Madison, Ariel, and Isolde. Ariel had moved nearly three years ago, on her sixteenth birthday, and Madison had moved in with Haru when they got married. Ariel had hardly spoken to any of them again, but Kira loved them all like sisters.

Nandita was working in the garden, and Kira could smell the exotic mix of aromatic herbs: rosemary, nutmeg, anise, cilantro, basil, marjoram.... Kira helped in the garden every summer, and she still couldn’t keep track.

“Does Marcus want rosemary on the chicken this Friday?” asked Nandita. The old woman straightened up from the garden, brushing soil from her hands. She spoke quickly, almost impassively, but Kira could tell from her eyes that she had been worried sick the entire time Kira had been gone.

Kira smiled.

BOOK: Partials
5.81Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Highlander the Dark Dragon by Donna Fletcher
Gardens in the Dunes by Leslie Marmon Silko
Dead Man Docking by Mary Daheim
Standing Strong by Fiona McCallum
Made to Break by D. Foy
War in Heaven by David Zindell
Beyond by Graham McNamee