“Consistency is often an advantage. Burns? Does she have internal burns at the site of the injuries?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Let me look at the scans again, enhanced. If we can get a strong enough picture, I might find them. I wasn’t looking before.”
“Help yourself. It used to be you had to do everything on a comp by hand, right? Fingers on keyboard only. No voice commands, no smart screens.”
“When I was a medical student we keyboarded nearly everything, and had only just begun to use palm scans routinely for diagnostics. Holo wasn’t yet considered reliable or cost-effective for teaching or diagnostics. I remember as a boy we—ah, look here. Do you see this?”
She moved closer to the screen. “What am I supposed to see?”
“Along the leg fracture—the shadows? Dots really. So small, so faint. But there.”
“Burns.”
“I’ll give you five to ten. See, yes, see, there all over her. Every point of impact, every wound, difficult to separate as she’s so badly damaged. This, here, yes, here, on this shoulder wound, they show more clearly.”
“Where he cut her.”
“I agree it could very well be a knife wound. Or, like your previous victim, a sword. I’d want to see it in the flesh, so to speak, take measurements, do an analysis, but from a visual like this, a sharp blade. And the burns—those minute internal singes. Fascinating.”
“She’d have been armed, too. But she wouldn’t have known it.”
“Sorry? How would she not know?”
Eve shrugged, her eyes on the scan. “Just a whacked theory I’m working on.”
The door opened. “Dallas. Oh, hey, Morris. Ah, you’re a little early,” Peabody said to him. “The vic’s coming out of surgery. The doctor’s coming out in a minute to give us the picture.”
“I need to shut down here, then I’m on my way.”
“I’m interested in your theory, whacked or not,” Morris said when the door closed. “When you’re ready to share.”
“I need to run it by another expert. You’ve made it seem a little less whacked.”
“Always happy to help.” He glanced at the screen before Eve shut down. “I hope I don’t have the pleasure of meeting her.”
“The human body stays pretty much the same, right? Technology changes and science advances. This one? She started out tough, so that’s her advantage. Now it’s up to technology and science to pull it out.”
“Not just the body, but the spirit. Technology and science don’t hold a candle to the human spirit. If hers is strong enough, she may stay not dead yet.”
20
The partners paced now, wearing a groove in opposite sides of the room. If she’d gone by visual alone, she’d have concluded both were utterly exhausted, holding on by those thin threads of hope, faith, and desperation.
“You should sit down,” she said. She wanted them seated together, where she could watch and gauge face
s, hands, bodies.
“Sit,” she repeated, putting enough authority in it to make it an order. “We’ll hear from the medicals soon enough. Meanwhile, you should know we’re making some headway on the investigation. Little steps,” she said quickly, “and I can’t be specific with you. But I wanted to be able to give you some positive news.”
“I don’t care about the investigation, not now.” Benny sat, eyes trained on the doorway. “I can’t think about that. Just about Cill.”
“We just want to keep focused on her. Like—I know it sounds weak, but like pushing energy to her.” Var shrugged. “It feels like something we can do.”
“I think you’re right.” Peabody offered an understanding smile. “I believe in that kind of thing.”
“Free-Ager,” Eve said with the faintest—and very deliberate—tone of dismissal. She moved slightly to the side as a woman in surgical scrubs entered.