Xenofreak Nation, Book Three: XIA (26 page)

Since it was late and no one was going to be released any time soon, hospital staff pushed cots into the quarantine room for them. Bryn didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but she passed out soon after her head hit the pillow.

By morning, nothing had been resolved, but Unger assured them things would happen quickly or he’d know the reason why. Shasta was reportedly up and about on crutches already, efficiently conducting agency business from a borrowed holophone.

The first thing to be decided was that Padme should be admitted to the hospital. Apparently, experts from all over the US were converging on the hospital to examine her. She was moved to a private room in order for them to determine what to do with the cloned heart growing in her uterus. When Doctor Gellar had asked her, she told him if the heart was viable, and as long as it didn’t endanger her life, she would continue to be its incubator – for Nicola’s sake.

Bryn didn’t really know what to think about that. Padme had always been an enigma.

Fournier had come out of surgery, but was still unconscious. He was in serious but stable condition, and wouldn’t be fit to answer any questions for another day at least.

He had a lot to answer for. There was no doubt he would spend a good portion of the rest of his life in prison, but among the doctors at Middleborough Hospital at least, he was a celebrity. Once word of his astonishing accomplishments got out, he would certainly be respected worldwide.

Bryn thought it ironic that the man widely known as the Bestia Butcher, a modern-day Doctor Frankenstein, could have taken a concept straight out of the pages of a science fiction novel into the realm of reality. Given the things he’d told her about government corruption, it struck her that maybe only someone as twisted and ruthless as Fournier could have done it.

“
Chaos begets change
,” he’d said, but despite the chaos he’d caused, she didn’t think much
would
change. It seemed to her that even before any given problem was rooted out, another was waiting to take its place. The whole ‘history is doomed to repeat itself’ thing would always keep people scrambling.

Thinking of change brought Dundee to mind. He’d wanted her to believe he’d become a different person after getting his crocodile eyes. He’d vehemently defended Fournier; telling them his boss had unleashed the typhoid not to kill anyone, but with the express purpose of finding out how it spread. Perhaps that was partially true. Bryn figured with Fournier’s fondness for chaos, he probably had more than one reason for doing the things he’d done. In the end, though, he’d been caught. But so had Singh.

She hoped Singh and Dundee would spend a good long time in quarantine. On the other hand, Boardman was stuck in there, too. She wondered what would happen if they had their grafts surgically removed. Would it reverse the process? If that was the answer to stopping the spread of the disease, she assumed Boardman and Singh, at least, would agree to it. But what about Dundee? It was very unlikely he’d consent to being made blind again.

Still, like Fournier, he faced a lifetime of incarceration for his crimes. Maybe they’d put him in solitary confinement, where he’d be able to see, but not see any
one
.

At least Mia was encouraged that her team seemed to be on the verge of proving Fournier right – something about the influence of a crocodilian graft on its human host created the perfect incubator and delivery system for the mutated typhoid. She’d consulted with local officials on how best to handle the rounding up of potential carriers, but area hospitals had already reported that dozens of xenos with crocodile and alligator grafts had turned themselves in.

At some point during the night, Singh must have been allowed a phone call, because his attorneys – three of them – arrived at the hospital, and from what Bryn heard, were lurking in the corridors like a trio of hungry vultures. They would no doubt begin harassing the hospital’s legal advisors as soon as they arrived, which, given the state of the city, might not be any time soon.

The city did seem to be settling down, though. Experts had popped up all over the news, citing statistics that suggested this kind of unrest was self-limiting. The near-tragedy of the collapse of Poppy’s Pier appeared to be the event that turned the tide. Pro-xeno sentiment was on the rise, and stories supporting the notion that xenos were immune to more than just the typhoid abounded.

Unger was furious that they’d blown their chance of bringing Singh to justice. Abbott had been his only witness, and the congressman’s death crippled the investigation. The DA would never agree to prosecute without his testimony. Even the attack on Maddy’s yacht, or later, the attack on the bus that caused Malone’s death, couldn’t be linked to Singh with no physical evidence and none of his men in custody. All they had was the word of four ‘rogue’ agents – and that of Bryn and Mia. In fact, Unger seemed resigned to the high probability that once Singh realized he was in the clear, he would take action against the XIA for destroying his yacht. With the man’s unlimited resources, his legal team would bury them.

“But he admitted he knew about the pier,” Bryn said.

“So?” Unger snapped. “He can say anything. He overheard strangers talking about it. Whatever.”

Even though Unger’s terse response seemed to have been designed to shut her down, she plucked up her courage and said, “Remember what I told you on the pier, though? About the corporation that bought the xenofarms and the disposal company? Can’t you link that back to him? I mean, why else would he want to kill all those xenos? Every one of them had an older graft, right? They were immune to stuff. Maybe that’s why he wanted to wipe them all out.”

Unger’s forbidding expression eased as he gave it a moment’s thought. “Maybe. Assuming what Fournier told you was true.”

Savvy pointed to the printer in Scott’s lap. “The proof is right there.”

“In the printer?” Unger looked skeptical.

“On the hard drive,” Savvy said. “I’ll show you.”

“But first,” Nicola put in, “we talk about making a deal for my dad.”

Scott had slept a little, but was still punchy from exhaustion by the time they were cleared to leave the hospital. Unger managed first thing to arrange an impromptu meeting with the DA. He took Savvy – and the printer – with him in the surveillance van. Hospital staff had contacted Children’s Protective Services to deal with Nicola, and Carla opted to stay behind to talk to them.

“What can you do?” Bryn asked.

Carla shrugged. “I’m her birth mother. That’s gotta count for something, right? Maybe I can keep her out of the system.”

The sun was high in the sky when Scott, Bryn, Lo and Alton walked out to the UAAV. Lo had just started it when Mia knocked on the passenger side window. Alton hastily rolled it down.

“I, um, don’t have any way to get back to my hotel,” Mia said. “My rental car’s still parked out in front of Fournier’s den. I don’t suppose I could catch a ride?”

“We’re going to headquarters to pick up our cars,” Alton replied. “I’d be glad to give you a ride from there.”

Mia nodded and climbed aboard. Scott caught Bryn hiding a smile and asked quietly, “What’s that all about?”

“I think she likes him,” Bryn whispered.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I happen to know it’s mutual.”

She laughed and leaned her head on the back of the seat, rolling it languidly towards him until her lips were only inches away from his. Whether she intended it as an invitation or not, he took advantage. Her mouth tasted like coffee and something sweet, like honey. He wanted to savor the moment, but they weren’t alone, so he reluctantly backed off.

“Later, okay?”

She smiled again and bit her lip, eyebrows raised in promise.

There was more traffic on the roads today, an indication that things were getting back to normal. When they arrived at XIA Headquarters, the building security company had dispatched a team of armed guards to supervise a construction crew as they began clean-up and repairs.

Scott got a glimpse of the destroyed stairwell and thought about Bob. The duty of notifying Bob’s family of his death had fallen to Shasta. He hoped she told them he’d been brave in his final hour.

In the parking garage, Lo stopped for a moment to look at the burnt-out husk that had been assigned to her. She made a wry face at it. “Glad it wasn’t my car. See you guys tomorrow.”

She walked off with a little bounce in her step.

Bryn and Mia stared at each other for a long moment.

“Take care, okay?” Mia said.

“You, too.”

“Lighten up,” Alton said. “It’s not like you’ll never see each other again.”

Mia looked up at him soberly. “I’m going back.”

“To the CDC?” He seemed surprised. “Isn’t that in Georgia or something?”

“Or something. My flight leaves tomorrow morning.”

He flinched as if her bald statement stung him, but a businesslike mask slipped over his features. “Let’s get going, then.”

Scott took Bryn’s hand to walk her over to his motorcycle, but she said, “Wait!”

Alton and Mia turned.

Bryn let go of Scott’s hand and took a few steps towards Mia. “You’re coming back, right?”

Mia hesitated. “I don’t know.”

Bryn nodded decisively and looked at Alton. “Don’t let her push you away. It’s a defense mechanism.”

Mia frowned in indignation, but Alton only laughed.

“I’ll take that under advisement.” He reached out and chucked Bryn under the chin. “Maybe we can double-date.”

Mia’s cheeks turned bright pink, but she didn’t protest. Bryn grinned and took Scott’s hand again.

When Alton started up his ancient truck, exhaust filled the parking garage. Bryn waved goodbye as they drove past, but Scott coughed and waved his hand through the air sarcastically.

“Quit it!” she said, slapping at his hand and giggling. “He was undercover and needed a ride befitting a Mad Eye.”

She lifted his helmet from the back of his bike and thumped him in the chest with it. Then she squinted and reached up to brush her fingers through his hair.

“You’re missing a chunk right here.”

“Am I? Probably the flame thrower.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He picked up her helmet. “I see you’re missing a chunk yourself.”

“That would be courtesy of the jerks who broke into your apartment.”

He gently fit the helmet over her quills. “Maybe tomorrow will be a normal day.”

“That would be nice for a change.”

He drove a little faster than usual on the way back to his apartment. The door was still on its hinges, but the frame on the knob side was splintered. Someone had closed it for him, though, and it didn’t look as if anything was missing.

Once he’d propped a chair up against it, he turned to Bryn. “I really need to get out of these clothes.”

“Oh?” She looked interested.

“Yeah, they’re dry now, but they chafed me something awful.”

“Ouch.” She moved in closer, reaching for the buttons on his shirt. “By the way,” she said, looking up at him as the quills slowly went flat to her head. “I love you, too.”

The end.

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