Doctor Grant all but collided with the biometric doors, slamming through them and into Director Sterling’s office. The decontamination shower hissed behind him, ignored. His surgical scrubs were still damp, streaked with arterial red and flecked with metallic silver. He held a newborn wrapped in hospital cloth, blood seeping through the weave, and thrust it out as if the infant were a trophy or a bomb about to detonate.
“Sterling!” Grant’s voice cracked as he all but threw the infant and the data tablet across the glass expanse of the director’s desk.
“You’re not going to believe this—he’s perfect. We did it. We finally did it.” He was trembling, not with pride but with something like terror, something raw and animal that wanted to claw its way out of his ribcage. “The mother… Christ, s
