Lena trekked through flooded tunnels of the marina and to Acheron, the baby strapped in a waterproof sling against her chest. Ryan's coordination had schismed to such an extent that he hung onto Sophie, whispering felt good just to keep them going toward the exit of the maze.
"Turn left at the morphine bricks," he whispered. "Dad marked them... for the nurses..."
The tunnel opened into a private dock, a dimly lit scene where the Acheron towered, deck crawling with hazmat-suited figures loading the last of the cryo-tanks. At the gangway stood Tom's twin, face lit by a tablet with real-time Phase Two deployments:
Marseille - 43% saturation
Shanghai - 67% saturation
Baltimore - 91% saturation
Sophie's fingers danced on her hacked comms. "I can override the cargo hold's locks, but we need—"
At that moment, Ryan's body chose to embarrass him. A seizure wracked him, his scream reverberating along the tunnel walls.
Hazmat helmets swiveled toward the sound.
Lena could do only one thing- she stepped into the light, holding her glowing blue daughter high like a torch.
"Subject 114," she stated, throwing all of Margaret's steel into her voice. "Direct from the maternity ward."
The twin's eyes were glued to the baby's glowing veins. He lowered his tablet.
"Bring her aboard."