“We’re all carriers,” she said. “Every single survivor has it in us, all the time. Even if we’re resistant to it, we can still pass it along. That’s why the babies die—that’s why it gets them so fast. Even in an airtight room.” She looked up at Marcus. “We can never get away from it.” She sifted through the images of the virus, trying to remember everything she’d learned about how it spread and functioned. Part of RM’s danger was that it didn’t behave like a normal blood-borne virus—it lived in the blood, yes, but it lived in every other part of the body as well; it could be passed through blood, saliva, sex, and even the air. Kira pored over the images, looking at the structure of the virus, looking for anything that would key her in to the secret. It was a big virus, big enough to contain every function of a very complex system—though they still didn’t know exactly what that system was.
Marcus rubbed his eyes, dragging his hands slowly down his face.
“It’s what I told you before—the top minds left in the world have been studying RM for eleven years. They’ve looked at everything.”
“But there has to be something else,” said Kira, flipping furiously through the list.
“Live studies, dead studies, blood scrubbers, dialysis, breath masks. There are even animal studies in here. Kira, they’ve studied literally everything they could possibly get their hands on.”
She kept flipping through study after study, variable after variable. And as she reached the end of the list, something dawned on her.
There was one test subject not included anywhere in the database. A subject no one had seen in eleven years.
Kira paused, staring at the screen, feeling dirty and uncomfortable as the virus stared darkly back.
If they wanted to understand that virus, why not go to the source? If they wanted to see what true immunity looked like, why not look at the subjects who were truly immune?
If they really wanted to cure RM, what better way than by studying a Partial?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Come in,” said Dr. Skousen. Kira opened his door slowly, her heart in her throat. She’d spent a week going through the current research with Marcus, convincing herself of the need to come to Skousen, and several days more planning exactly what she’d say and how she’d say it. Would it work? Would he agree, or would he laugh her out of his office? Would he get mad and throw her out of the hospital completely? Skousen’s office was bright, lit by both the wide glass windows and a brilliant white lamp on his desk. Electric light always surprised her, no matter how many times she saw it. It was an extravagance few people could afford. Did those people realize how casually they used it in the hospital?
“Thank you for seeing me, Doctor,” said Kira, closing the door behind her and walking crisply to the desk. She’d put on her most professional-looking outfit: a red blouse, a coffee-colored skirt with matching jacket, and even a pair of heels. She usually hated heels—they were ridiculously impractical, both for her job and for post-Break life in general—but Skousen had grown up in the old world, and she knew he would appreciate them. She needed him to see her as an adult, as an intelligent, mature person, and she’d use every advantage she could get. She held out her hand, and Skousen shook it firmly; his hands were old, the skin wrinkled and papery, but his grip was still strong.