It would fall apart. Temporarily for those who were strong enough to glue it all back into pattern or make another. Permanently for those who couldn't. Or wouldn't.
She glanced at McNab. Even here, with all the chatter, there was a smear of worry over it all. If that one part of them stayed broken, the rest would tumble down like tiles. They'd form a new pattern-that was the job-but they'd never forget the way it had been.
She pushed back from the table. "I've got some stuff I need to do."
"The Walking Dead said there was chocolate cake."
"Jamie," Roarke said mildly.
"Sorry," Jamie said reluctantly. "Mister Walking Dead, also known as Summerset, said there was chocolate cake."
"And if you eat it all, I'll kill you in your sleep. Then you can join The Walking Dead. Roarke, I need to talk to you."
As they started out, she heard Jamie ask: "Think they're gonna go do it?" And heard the quick slap of Feeney's hand on the teenaged skull.
"Are we going to go do it?" Roarke grabbed her hand.
"Want me to have Feeney knock you, too?"
"I'm a bit quicker than Jamie yet. But I take that to mean we're not going back upstairs for a fast tumble."
"How many times a day do you think about sex?"
He gave her a considering look. "Would that be actively thinking of it, or just having the concept of it lurking there, like Jamie's invisible document?"
"Never mind. Did you see Mira before?"
"I didn't, no. I was in the lab. Sorry I missed her. Peabody said Mavis stopped by as well, and needed a private word with you. Is she all right?"
"She's knocked…" She didn't have time for that little routine again. "She's pregnant."
"What?" He stopped in his tracks.
It was always a treat, a rare one, to see him stupefied. "Totally pregs, as she puts it. On purpose, too."
"Mavis? Our Mavis?"
"One and the same. She came in jumping and spinning and dancing. I don't know if she should be bouncing around like that now. Seems like you could, I don't know, dislodge the thing in there. She's really hyped."
"Well, this is… lovely," he decided. "Is she well?"
"I guess. Looks great anyway. Said she was puking in the mornings, but she liked it. I don't get that."
"No, I can't say I do either. We'll take them out to dinner as soon as we're able. I should check on her performance and recording schedule." He knew every bit as much about the care and feeding of expectant mothers as Eve did. Which was nothing. "I don't suppose she should be overdoing."
"If this afternoon was any gauge, she's got enough energy for both of them, and then some."
When they stepped into her office, she shut the door. The action made him lift a brow. "As you've vetoed sex, I assume you want privacy for a less pleasurable reason."
"They're blocking my warrant, and when you've got two bureaucracies duking it out in court, you can die from natural causes before there's a ruling. I had a brief consult with Mira. I've still got to read her profile, but she gave me the gist in the oral. I got Baxter's take."
"Eve, what is it you want me to do that you'd prefer not wanting me to do?"
"People are dying, right now. They don't know it, but they're infected, and for some it's already too late. It's going to keep spreading. A good cop is dead. Another… another who's a friend of mine-and Jesus, I can't believe I'm friends with such an idiot-may not walk again under his own power. Some of the answers to who's doing this are in those sealed files."
"Then we'll break the seal."
She stared at him, then cursing, spun away. "And what makes me any different from them? I'm willing to slide around the law because I think I'm right."
"Because they're killing people."
"I can tell myself that. But it's just a matter of degrees."
"The hell it is. You'll always have a conscience, and you'll always question the right and wrong of it. Worry it to death, and yourself with it. You know how far to push the line before it breaks, Eve. You'll never break it. You can't."
She closed her eyes. "I said something similar to Baxter. They're using the law to slow me down. I can't let them."
"It would be best if we used the unregistered."
She nodded. "Let's get it done."
The room was accessible only by voice and palmprints. Only three people were cleared for entry.
There was a single window, wide and uncovered to the dying evening. But she knew it was privacy treated to prevent anyone nervy enough to try a flyby from seeing in.
The room itself was designed almost rigidly. This was work space. Serious space. There was a wide, U-shaped console in sleek black that commanded all the research, retrieval, communication, and data systems. Systems unregistered with CompuGuard, and therefore illegal.
The first time she'd seen it, well over a year before, even she'd recognized the level of equipment as superior to anything in Central. Since then, some units had been upgraded.
She imagined there were some toys in here not yet on the market.
There were comp stations with monitors, a holo unit, a smaller auxiliary station, which now boasted its own miniholo.
Crossing the glassed black tile, she studied the new addition. "Never seen one like this."
"Prototype. I wanted to run some tests on it without documenting them. It seems to be working out nicely."
"It's really small."
"We're working on smaller yet. Palm-sized."
She glanced up. "Get out. Palms with full holofunction?"
"Three years, maybe less, and you'll be slipping one into your pocket just like your 'link." He placed his palm on the console's identi-screen. "Roarke. Open operations."
The console came to life with lights. Eve walked over to join him, laid down her palm. "Dallas."
Identification verified, Darling Eve.
She hissed. "Why do youdo that? It's embarrassing."
"Darling Eve, the computer, however brilliant, is an inanimate object and can't embarrass anyone. Where would you like to start?"
"Start with Cogburn. He was their first. You can pull the data off my unit." She gave Roarke the case number and the file number for her notes.
He had them accessed, copied, and displayed in almost less time than it had taken her to give him the numbers.
"You see his sheet? I've made notations of the case files that connect him to the other victims through arresting officers, social workers, legal, medical. Baxter's started interviews where we have vic ID, but he hasn't gotten a bump."
"Bump."
"The vibe."
"No bump on the vic," Roarke repeated with a chuckle. "And you threatened rabbit food for comp jargon."
"Jeez. Upon interviewing identified victims related to this matter, Detective Baxter found no connection to The Purity Seekers, nor felt any indication of connection from statements, attitude, or background checks."
"I got it the first time, darling, but it's such fun to hear you explain it to me in such official tones."
"Moving on," she continued. "The incident reports list interviews with two additional minors. Records sealed."
"It'll take me a few minutes."
"Yeah. I'll get the coffee."
"Let's have some wine instead," he said as he began to work on a keyboard. "I'd prefer not to get buzzed on caffeine."
"I need to keep sharp."
"Any sharper, you'd be drawing blood. Now this is interesting."
"What?"
"There's a secondary block on this file. That's not usual for a standard seal. Damn good block, too. Well now." He rolled his shoulders like a boxer about to enter the ring.