Orchid followed his pointing finger, her tiny face screwing up. “You know I can’t read,” she accused, and he felt himself flush, embarrassed for forgetting.
“Sorry,” he said as he asked the computer to print out the screen. “These are engineered linkage spots on Daniel’s virus. I figured he’d have them if Trisk worked on it. She put three just like them on her tomato in case she ever wanted to tweak it in the future.”
Orchid hovered before the monitor, her pooling dust shifting color to match the text on the screen. “Isn’t that kind of stupid? To have the same linkage on two things?”
“It would be if they were alike, but they aren’t. See?” He pointed to the other screen, where Trisk’s code for her tomato still glowed. Leaning to reach the other keyboard, he asked the computer to print out one of the linkage codes on Trisk’s tomato as well.
Orchid dusted her hands free of pollen. “I’m not following. What are we trying to do?”
“Break the unbreakable,” Kal muttered, and Orchid sighed, her dust shifting red. “Trisk made her tomato resistant to everything,” he added. “I’m going to use Daniel’s virus to kill it.”
Orchid’s mouth dropped into a little O of understanding, making Kal smile. “Her entire three years here will be discredited, tainting her work on her universal donor virus. I’ll make sure all her funding goes to my studies, where it should have been in the first place.”
Wings blurring into motion, Orchid took to the air, spinning to look out the wide window at the green field. “You said they wouldn’t match up.”
“Not on their own, no. I’m going to need to synthesize a link. A puzzle piece. A tiny piece of code that fits the virus on one end, the tomato on the other.” He stood, leaning over the console to erase his actions. “QED.”
“You can do that?” Orchid asked, still at the window. “How long will it take?”
Finished clearing the one terminal, Kal moved to the other. “If I were in my old lab, by lunch. Here, it might take a few days.” He hesitated, his thoughts on his earlier plans of seducing Trisk into his bed. He was not letting go of that. “If I work through lunch, I might have enough by tomorrow to infect the cultures they’re going to synthesize this week. They’d be incorporated right into the tactical virus’s replicating DNA.”
“And it will kill all her tomatoes?” Orchid asked. “What about everyone else?”
Unsure, Kal clicked his pen in rapid succession and tucked it behind an ear. It rubbed on the scar tissue where his ears had been docked to look more human, and he took it out. When his work was finished, he’d be able to change the elves’ genetic code so they were born without the need to cut their children. “It can’t kill people, Orchid. It can’t even replicate outside of a lab. The only thing it can affect is the tomatoes.” If he was lucky, it would decimate Trisk’s entire crop from pole to pole, but he wasn’t going to tell Orchid that. She liked growing things too much.
“But the enclave sent you to make sure it’s safe,” the pixy protested. “You have a responsibility—”
“Responsibility?” he interrupted, surprised Orchid even cared. “Trisk’s work is dangerous. If no one can see that, it’s my responsibility to put an end to it before it hurts anyone,” he said, voice harsh. “Tell you what,” he added when her wings drooped. “That’s her seed crop out there. What if I infect that, and nothing else?”
“I suppose,” she said reluctantly, and Kal smiled, thinking it would shorten his time in the lab as well. He straightened, his stretch to crack his back coming to an abrupt halt as his fingers closed into a fist inches from the smear on the ceiling. Sobered, he looked over the office, ready to pick up his copies at the printer and settle into a lab down the hall. If he were at Kennedy, his part would be done, but spending the day prepping strands of DNA was a small price to pay for seeing Trisk’s helpless rage when her work was utterly disregarded.
“Coming?” he said as he scooped up his hat. “I have to hustle to get everything done for tonight.”
Orchid turned from the window, her hands clasped at her middle. “You’re still going to seduce her?” she said, her eyes becoming wide. “I thought you didn’t like her.”
“I don’t.” Kal’s lips went tight in a mirthless smile. “She’s playing me for a fool. I’m going to play her right back.”
“Yeah, but Kal,” Orchid protested, her wings a harsh clatter as she hovered right before his face, “you’re talking about hurting her, now, not just her work.”
“That’s right,” he said, looking forward to playing the attentive boyfriend for as long as it was necessary. The payoff would be seeing her frustrated and angry, knowing she’d been used and discarded.