“ParaGen was hardly a civilian target in that particular war,” said Vale. “Many of our facilities were attacked, and he may have been in or near one at the wrong time.”

“But you survived.”

“Why are you interrogating me?”

Kira took a deep breath, shaking her head tiredly. “You’re trying to work, and I’m . . . preoccupied. I’m sorry. You’re in here practically twenty hours a day trying to cure this thing, and I should be helping you, not—”

Now it was Vale’s turn to shake his head, refusing to meet Kira’s eyes. “You’re helping more than anyone.” There was more anger in his voice than Kira had expected. “You’re a sixteen-year-old girl and I’m letting Morgan treat you like a cell culture.”

“I volunteered.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“It’s the only right choice there is.”

“That doesn’t mean I like it.”

They sat in silence for a moment, and Kira smiled sadly. “I’m seventeen, actually. Almost eighteen.”

Vale smiled back, though the smile seemed just as sad and forced as Kira’s. “When’s your birthday?”

“I have no idea. Sometime in January. I always just celebrate it on New Year’s.”

Vale nodded, as if that meant something profound. “A snow baby.”

“Snow?”

Vale sighed again. “I forget you kids don’t know about snow. When was the last time . . . ? I can’t remember. . . . Even I must’ve been a kid the last time it snowed. Anyway: a New Year’s baby, then.” He turned back to his monitor. “That’s good luck. We’re going to need it.”

Kira looked at the glowing DNA strand, trying to read it like he did, but it meant virtually nothing to her. She’d trained as a medic, so she knew the terminology, but genetics were not her specialty. She traced the tape holding the IV tube to her arm. “Are you sure there’s nothing more I can do to help?”

“Find Armin,” he muttered, staring at the screen, “and ask him what the hell we’re supposed to do now.”

Kira felt a surge of excitement at the suggestion, but she knew it was a hopeless plan—there was too little time left, and no idea even where to begin. And when it came right down to it, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to find her father. What would she say to him? She didn’t even know if she’d be angry or glad. “I’ve tried looking for the Trust already,” she said at last. “I can do more good here, helping you and Morgan with your research.”

“That’s what you keep saying.”