Partials series 1-3 (Partials; Fragments; Ruins). Dan Wells
soldiers taking enemy fire. Request all possible assistance.” They were running now, Kira taking the lead and Haru following behind, turning and firing periodically to slow the Partials down. “Kira,” said Jayden, “switch my channel.” Kira clicked the knob on Jayden’s belt, and he repeated the message. “Calling all personnel, there is a human strike team taking enemy fire on the Manhattan Bridge. Request all possible assistance. Change my channel again.” Shots were coming toward them now, close enough to scare them into cover. They wove between the stopped cars, watching the ground for trip wires and other triggers, hoping desperately that Yoon had managed to find and mark them all. Haru fired back at the Partials, doing his best to keep them at bay; Kira chanced a look behind her and saw at least seven Partials in pursuit, and gaining quickly. Jayden ran out of breath, straining under the heavy prisoner, and Kira took over, repeating his message again and again in the hope that someone was listening. They caught up to Yoon far too quickly, and she shook her head grimly. “There’s no way we can keep ahead of them and still avoid the explosives. This bridge is a death trap.”
“I’m out,” called Haru, dropping the assault rifle and taking Jayden’s sidearm as they ran. “They’re getting closer.” A bullet glanced off the car in front of them, shattering the side mirror. “We’re not going to last much longer.”
“Calling all personnel,” Kira said again, barely keeping her breath as she clutched the radio, “there is a human strike force on the Manhattan Bridge taking—”
“I’ve got you in my sights, strike force,” the radio crackled back. “Please identify.”
“We don’t have time to identify,” shouted Kira. “We’ve got a Partial army behind us.”
“Jayden Van Rijn,” said Jayden, “sergeant second class.”
“There’s a large pylon tower about twenty yards ahead of you,” the voice crackled.
Kira looked up. “We see it.”
“Proceed straight forward on the outside lane, pass the purple car on the left, and go past that pylon. Take shelter behind the big red delivery truck.”
“Shelter from what?” asked Kira. The group jogged as fast as they could down the path they’d been given, each step lancing Kira’s exhausted muscles. “What are you going to do?”
“What do you think he’s going to do?” asked Yoon, pulling them down behind the Coke truck. “From what I’ve seen so far, this bridge has more C4 than steel.”
“You don’t mean—”
The bridge behind them exploded in a giant fireball, bright enough to sear Kira’s eyes even in the cover of the truck. The bridge lurched, cars flew into the air, and the force of the blast shifted the Coke truck ten feet forward, pushing the fugitives across the asphalt. Kira dropped the radio, covering her ears, and when the shock wave subsided, she staggered out to look.
Twenty yards behind them, beyond the nearest pylon, the bridge was gone. Chunks of steel and concrete dangled from support cables. The river beneath was a churning sea of fallen scrap. The Partials pursuing them had been vaporized.
“Maintain position,” squawked the radio. “We’re sending a team to pick you up, and you’d better have one hell of a good explanation for this.”
“Well,” said Mkele. “It looks like we have another chance to chat.”
“Always a pleasure,” said Kira.
They were camped for the night in the lee of a freeway junction. After verifying that no more Partials were going to try to pursue over the remaining bridge, the Grid had reset the watch and Kira and her companions had been taken inland, as far as they could make it before nightfall. They were unchained, but a large group of Defense Grid soldiers were keeping a very close watch. The Partial was still unconscious, secured firmly to a heavy roadside barrier.
“Last time we spoke, Ms. Walker, we discussed a number of very important issues.” Mkele had arrived moments earlier on horseback, with a team of mounted rangers who quickly dispersed to strengthen the perimeter. He pulled her away from the others. “I apologize that I apparently did not make those issues sufficiently clear. Let’s start with the most obvious: It is considered very suspicious, and in fact highly treasonous, to enter Partial territory, consort with them directly, and bring one back into human territory.”
“I think you and I might have different definitions of ‘consort.’”
“What were you doing in Manhattan?”
“I’m a medic at the Nassau hospital in East Meadow,” said Kira. “I’m trying to cure RM, and my best chance of doing that was to obtain a Partial.”
“So you decided to just . . . go and get one.”
“I made the request through proper channels first,” said Kira. “You have no idea how medically valuable that thing could be.”
“I find it hard to believe that I need to spell out for you how dangerous this is,” said Mkele. “How idiotic it is. The bridge you blew up—do you honestly think that will keep them out? That any of our elaborate defenses are in any way deterring them from attacking us should they decide to launch an assault? There are a million of them, Walker, all better trained, better armed, and physically stronger than we are. We are only alive because the Partials have chosen not to kill us. And you may have just changed their minds, for all we know?” His voice was a furious roar. “And even if they don’t attack, do you have any idea how much of a threat this one Partial represents, all on its own? Our intel from the Partial War suggests that it was the Partials themselves who released RM—not technologically but physically, using their own bodies as living incubators. If that is true, every single one of them is potentially a doomsday weapon. Who knows what kind of biological weapons they could have cooked up in the last eleven years? Their mere existence is a threat to our species.”
“That’s all the more reason we should be studying them,” said Kira. “There could be a wealth of information in just a drop of their blood, and with a full complement of organs and tissues to study, who knows what we could learn? If they created RM, and especially if you’re right and they preserve or synthesize it in their bodies, they may very well hold the secret to curing it. You have to see that.”
“Your job is mankind’s future,” said Mkele. “My job is its present, and without the present there is, as I’m sure you’ll agree, no future at all. If your job ever comes into conflict with mine, mine takes priority.”
“That’s idiocy,” said Kira.
“It’s the truth,” said Mkele. “As a medic, you’re familiar with the Hippocratic oath: First, do no harm. First. There are approximately thirty-six thousand human beings left alive on the entire planet, and our first responsibility is to keep them alive. First. After that is taken care of—and only after that is taken care of—our job then becomes to ensure that we can produce more human beings to strengthen our position.”
“You almost sound sweet when you say it like that.”
“You risked the lives of five soldiers, a technical specialist, and a medic. Three of those soldiers didn’t return. And now I’m going to destroy this Partial anyway.”
“You can’t,” said Kira quickly. “We need it.” After everything we’ve been through to get this thing, I’m not letting you throw it away for nothing.
“I will allow you to take a blood sample,” said Mkele, “for the sole purpose of testing, in a controlled location far from any population center, should the Senate deem it allowable.”
“That’s not good enough,” said Kira. “We need the medical tests now—there are newborns dying every week—”
“I