People were a hazard to the damn human race.
Though her face throbbed, she swung by the Icove residence. She wanted another shot at Avril.
One of the police droids opened the door after verifying her ID.
"Where are they?"
"Two are on the second level with the minors and my counterpart. One is in the kitchen. They've made no attempt to leave, and have made no outside contact."
"Stand by," she ordered, and walked through the house to the kitchen.
Avril was at the stove pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven. She was dressed casually in a blue sweater and black pants, and her hair was pulled back in a shining tail.
"Ms. Icove."
"Oh, you startled us." She set the tray down on the stovetop. "We enjoy baking on occasion, and the children love when we have fresh cookies."
"There's only one of you in here, so why don't you drop the trio bit? Why didn't you tell me about the surgeries, the subliminal control programs performed on minors routinely at Brookhollow?"
"They're all part of the process, the training. We assumed you already knew." She began to move the cookies from baking tray to cooling rack. "Is this an official, recorded interview?"
"No. No record. I'm off duty."
Avril turned fully, and concern moved into her eyes. "Your face is bruised."
Eve poked a tongue at the inside of her cheek, relieved she didn't taste blood. "It's a jungle out there."
"I'll get the med kit."
"Don't worry about it. When's Deena due to contact you, Avril?"
"We thought she would by now. We're starting to worry. Lieutenant, she's our sister. That relationship is as true for us as if we were blood. We don't want anything to happen to her because of something we did."
"What about something you didn't do? Like telling me where to find her?"
"We can't, unless she tells us."
"Is she working with the others? The others who got away?" Avril carefully removed her apron. "There are some who formed an underground. There are some who simply wanted to disappear, to live a normal life. Deena's had help, but what she's done-what we've done," she corrected, "is what she, and you, I imagine, would call un-sanctioned. Deena felt something had to be done, now. Something strong and permanent. We felt, because of what we'd learned about our children, that she was right."
"By this time tomorrow, Quiet Birth will be all over the media. You want it stopped? Public outrage is going to go a long way to making sure it is. Help me clean up the rest of it. Where are the nurseries, Avril?"
"What will happen to the children, the babies, the yet born?" "I don't know. But I suspect there'll be a lot of loud voices calling for their rights, their protection. That's part of human makeup, too, isn't it? Protecting and defending the innocent and the defenseless." "Not everyone will see it that way."
"Enough will. I can give you my word I know how this story'll be broken, the tone that's going to be set. The odds of Deena going to prison for her crimes to date are slim to none. Those odds start climbing if she continues her mission now that we've taken steps to stop the project, to shut down the training area." "We'll tell her, as soon as we can."
"What about the data removed from the private office upstairs?" "She has it. We gave it to her."
"And the data she removed from Samuels's quarters?" Surprise flickered. "You're very good at your work." "That's right, I am. What was in the files she took from Samuels?" "We don't know. There wasn't time for her to share it with us." "You tell her if she gets me the data, the locations, I can slam the door on this. She doesn't have to do any more."
"We will, when we can. We're grateful." She lifted a platter already loaded with cookies. "Would you like a cookie?" "Why not?" Eve said, and took one for the road.
There were kids in the yard. It gave Eve a jolt, especially when one dropped out of a tree like a monkey. He seemed to be of the male variety, and let out war whoops as he raced her car to the house.
"Afternoon!" he said, with an accent much broader and somehow greener than Roarke's. "We're in New York City."
"Okay." He didn't appear to consider it godforsaken.
"We've never been before, but we're having an American holiday. I'm Scan, and we've come to visit our cousin, Roarke. This is his grand house here. Me da said it's big enough to have its own postal code. If you're after seeing Roarke, he's inside. I can show you the way."