Origin in Death (In Death #21)(107)

"Dings mostly. Mostly dings. Backup's coming. Help's coming."

He looked her dead in the eyes, and he smiled. "And we're just going to sit here and wait for the cavalry, are we?"

The smile loosened the sweaty fist around her heart. "Hell, no."

She pushed herself up, offered him her hand. What she saw around them made her stomach pitch and her heart shrivel. They'd been flesh, blood, bone. They'd been boys. Now they were pieces of meat.

She shut herself down, began to gather weapons. "We don't know what else we've got coming. Take all you can carry."

"Bred for war, that's what they were," Roarke said softly. "They had no choice. They gave us no choice."

"I know that." She shouldered on two combat rifles. "And we're going to exterminate, destroy, decimate what bred them."

Roarke hefted one of the weapons. "Urban War era. If they'd been better equipped and more experienced, we'd be dead."

"You had boomers. You had illegal explosives."

"Well, be prepared, I say." He aimed the rifle at one of the cameras, blasted it. "You've only used one of these a couple of times in sims down in the target gallery."

"I can handle it." She aimed, took out a second camera.

"No doubt."

From their position, Diana looked over her shoulder. "It sounds like a war."

"Whatever it is, it's keeping it off our backs." For now, she thought. She'd estimated she'd had a fifty-fifty chance of coming out of tonight alive. Now she had to survive. She had to get it done and get Diana to safety.

But her palms were sweating, and that only lowered the odds. Avril had been the only person she'd ever loved. Now even that strong current was tame beside the tidal wave of emotion that swept her. Diana was hers.

Nothing was ever going to touch her child again.

So she prayed that the data she and Avril had accessed was still valid. Prayed that whatever was behind them would wait until she got through the doors marked GESTATION.

Prayed that her courage wouldn't fail.

At last the light glowed green. She heard the swish of air as the doors opened into an airlock. What she saw through it, through the glass, drained the heart out of her.

She made herself go in, made herself look.

While her vision blurred with tears, the monster, dead for a decade, stepped into the white stream of light.

Jonah Delecourt Wilson was fit and handsome and no more than thirty. In his arms he carried a sleeping infant. One hand held a stunner and was pressed to the child's throat.

At his feet was the body of a young Wilfred Icove.

"Welcome home, Deena. It's a testament to both of us that you got this far."

Instinctively Deena pushed Diana behind her.

"Saving yourself?" He laughed, and turned the baby to the light. "Which one of yourself will you sacrifice? Infant, child, woman? Fascinating conundrum, isn't it? I need you to come with me now. We don't have much time."

"You killed your partner?"

"Despite all the work, all the adjustment, all the improvement, he proved to be inherently flawed. He objected to some of our most recent advances."

"Let her go. Give the baby to Diana, and let them go. I'll go with you."

"Deena, understand I've terminated my closest associate, the man- well, men, as there are two more of him equally dead-who shared my vision for decades. Do you think I'd hesitate to kill any of you?"

"No. But it's wasteful to kill the children. It's wasteful to terminate me, when you can take me, use me. Study me."

"But you're flawed, you see. As Wilfred proved to be in the end. And you've cost me beyond measure. All this, about to be destroyed. Two generations of progress. Fortunately, I have countless generations to rebuild it, improve it, then see it flourish. You'll all come with us, and be a part of that. Or you'll all die here."

Another stepped out of the opposite door, and had a sleepy toddler by the hand. "Keep your hands up," he ordered her, and stepped forward.

"Transportation's waiting for those selected," the first told her.

"What of the rest?"

"Once we're clear? Fail-safe. A difficult sacrifice. But we understand difficult choices, don't we? We have all the records we need, and the funds, the time to rebuild. Move forward."

As she did, Diana pulled the laser scalpel out of her pocket and aimed it at the eyes of the one holding the toddler.

The little girl screamed, and began to wail when the man holding her hand convulsed and fell. Equipment exploded as Diana swung the beam. Even as Wilson returned fire, Deena shoved Diana to the ground, then dove toward the younger child. As she scooped the toddler up, spun, she saw Wilson, and the infant, were gone.

"Take her." She pushed the screaming child-her child-into Diana's arms. "You've got to take her. I've got to go after him. Don't argue! Just listen. Someone must be trying to get through-all the fire we heard."

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing." Deena dismissed the burn on her shoulder, and pushed past the pain. "You get her to safety. I know you can. I know you will." She pulled Diana into her arms, kissed her, kissed the little girl. "I have to stop him. Now go!"