Minutes to Burn

Maricarmen waved her hand. "Of course. I will maybe have to reschedule some things, but if you are busy saving the world…"

Iggy laughed. "My mom saves the world," he said.

"Not quite, honey."

Iggy banged into Kiera with his rear end, almost knocking her over. She leaned over, unstrapped her leg, and smacked him across the head with it.

"Kiera!" Samantha said. "We talked about that kind of attention-getting!"

"Well-"

"No 'wells.' Are you going to act like that when you're a senator? Well? Are you?"

"I'm not gonna be a senator. I'm gonna be a virologist."

"You can be both if you stop whacking people over the head with your prosthetic limb. Now…" Samantha pulled out another enlarge-ment and pressed it to the glass. Round particles containing small grainy bits.

Kiera bent over, strapping her leg back on. "Arenavirus," she said.

"Excellent." Samantha tapped the glass and Iggy penned an "O." He blocked her move with an "X."

The lab tech returned. "I took care of the gloves," he said. "And you got this from Donald Denton at the New Center." He pulled a test tube, containing the Sangre de Dios dinoflagellate DNA pellet, out of a padded box. "He thinks the plankton are virus-laden. I'm sending them through." Not wanting to damage the DNA, he clicked a switch to deac-tivate the heat and UV light inside the autoclave before placing the test tube inside. The precautions were only a necessity when moving materi-als from inside the slammer to out.

Opening the autoclave from her side, Samantha pulled out the test tube and held it up, then glanced at her microscope on the counter. She looked back at the kids.

"I know, I know," Kiera said. "You have to get to work now. I recog-nize when your mouth gets like that."

Danny shook his head back and forth furiously. "I don't wanna go yet."

"Honey, I'll be home soon," Samantha said. She tapped the window with a blunt fingernail. "I promise."

"Yeah, right," Kiera said.

"Honey, please. Give me a hand here."

"Well, I can't spare a leg."

Samantha set her hands on her hips. "Maricarmen, why don't you take the boys to the car? I'll send Kiera out in a moment."

The boys kissed the window, and Samantha cringed but refrained from scolding them since she'd set the example. Maricarmen took the boys by their hands and led them out. Kiera played with a hole in her jeans.

"What is going on with you?" Samantha asked.

"Why are you in here?"

"I just…I needed to…I got exposed to…"

Kiera sighed. Loudly. "I read what you did in the newspaper. Maricar-men cut out the article, but I saw the blank square and knew it would be something good, so I dug it out of the garbage."

"Don't dig in the garbage, honey."

"That is not the point!" Kiera said, her nostrils flaring.

"Honey, you know how my work is. We've talked about this. I some-times have to take risks to help other people."

"Well, what am I supposed to tell Danny if you end up with… with hantavirus pulmonary syndrome or something? Then what?"

Samantha pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. "How old are you again?"

Kiera's face remained angry. "It's not just you anymore, you know," she said. "It's us too."

Stunned, Samantha sat down slowly on a nearby chair. She felt as though she'd just had the breath knocked out of her. The test tube was cool in her hand. "I know," she said. "You're right."

Kiera chewed her bottom lip. "Well… just don't let it happen again."

"Okay," Samantha said. "I won't." She stood again and crossed to the window. She reached out to touch the glass, then lowered her hands in frustration. She'd never wanted to hold her child so much. "Honey, you kids are the most important thing to me in the world. I hope you know that."

Kiera's face softened. "I do." She looked up at her mother. "I'd better get going. Maricarmen's waiting."

Samantha leaned against the glass, watching her daughter until she turned the corner at the end of the hall. She sat back down in the chair and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. She didn't move for a long time. Then she rose and walked over to the microscope.

Chapter 21

With all they had seen on their respective tours-men drinking cobra blood in Snake Alley in Taiwan, the diffuse orange sunset over Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, decapitated frogs still breathing in Vietnamese markets-the soldiers had never encountered a place like the Galapagos.

The water was postcard-blue and calm, lapping against the panga. The soldiers sat up along the pontoons, the gear stacked between them. The panguero, who smelled of aguardiente and wore jeans cuffed in wide bands, navigated admirably, despite the fact that the outboard was straining under the load. Cameron leaned over the side, running her fingers through the clear water and praying the little boat wouldn't sink under the weight of their gear. She stole a look at Justin, who winked at her. His face was streaked with sunblock that needed to be rubbed in.