-Chapter Twenty-

Lindy was married in late March, and Anthea stood up for her as promised. She was happy that Lindy was so absorbed in her new husband. It made the coming separation easier.

That was what she wanted now: to disappear quietly into the ether.

She took Nolan in for a check-up shortly before leaving London. Anthea wanted a full eval by a pediatrician before she moved, and a recommendation for one in the San Francisco area. She didn't think Nolan was likely to get sick, not as the child of Khan Noonien Singh. But she wanted to be prepared, just in case. She didn't know how long her still-forming plan was going to take, and she wanted the best care for her baby.

Nolan was given an absolutely perfect bill of health, which didn't surprise Anthea in the slightest. He was in the top percentile on everything. Armed with a referral to a pediatrician in the Bay Area, Anthea left with the baby in tow.

In the entrance, she ran, almost literally, into a mother and daughter as they entered the hospital. "Sorry," she exclaimed, before she looked up. "I need to pay more attention to where I'm-"

Anthea cut off as she realised she'd just run into Rima Harewood. "Oh."

The woman smiled vaguely. "No need for apologies. I can see this handsome little man had your attention."

The girl at her side peered into Nolan's carrier. "Hi, baby!"

Anthea swallowed. "Yes, he's a handful. Excuse me."

She stepped out of the small family's way, and stood for a moment, watching, as they went up the steps to the second floor of the hospital. Realising her hands were shaking, she set Nolan down and gave both a hard squeeze into fists.

Of all the people to run into, she'd just had to bump into Rima Harewood, widow of the man her own husband had forced to blow up the archive. Of all the people on the planet, Rima was the one woman who would understand the confusion and grief Anthea herself had experienced a year ago.

Rima was also the last person she could ever speak to about it, because if not for Anthea's husband, Thomas Harewood would still be alive.

Of course, Anthea had no way of knowing that Khan had saved the life of the little girl she'd just met. Neither did Rima know that that miracle had come at the cost of her husband's life.

Once again picking up Nolan's carrier, she hurried out to her hovercar and headed back to the city.

Vice Admiral Brody, in addition to approving Anthea's transfer, had assigned her the Reliance and told her to move it to one of the shipyards in California, so that it could be ready if Starfleet Intelligence needed it. Anthea had nearly burst into hysterical laughter on reading the orders, for it had solved one of her largest logistical problems, and Brody had no idea.

She turned her brownstone over to her parents, since it was owned free and clear and she had no need for funds from it. She'd found a small apartment near HQ, a little studio, really, just big enough for her and her baby.

Anthea was relieved that the Enterprise had left, with James Kirk aboard. Her mistake aside, she didn't want Starfleet's golden boy to know what she was doing until it was far too late. The man seemed to operate on pure luck, and she didn't want to risk him stopping her.

She fit in well with her new position. Since she'd been in charge of the Section 31 projects on a day-to-day basis while her husband worked on his designs, it was fairly easy to transition to managing a small group of engineers and scientists. Out of a feeling of guilt, she'd brought information in Lucille Harewood and set a few of her people to researching its cause, to see if they could find a cure in case it happened again.

One change that had come with her transfer was the expectation that she actually use the rank she'd been given while at the archive. Her primary function in Starfleet was with Intelligence, so she'd always been addressed as "Agent Mackintosh", but she'd also held an officer's rank in case she needed to do field work. Anthea had just never used it, never worn her rank pips on her uniform, and had almost forgotten she was, technically speaking, a lieutenant. Since she was in charge of a group now, she'd been promoted to Lieutenant Commander, and was expected to wear her engineering badge instead of the blank Starfleet one she'd worn around Section 31.

Her staff didn't pay her much attention unless she or they needed something. It was really useful that they didn't, because she needed them occupied elsewhere while she did what she'd come to San Francisco to do.

"Lieutenant Commander?"

Anthea looked up to her open door. She'd found it fostered less suspicion if they were free to come and go and ask questions when needed. "Yes, Doctor Coleman?"

The only member of her staff that had so far tried to win her over-the others didn't care as long as she didn't interfere with their research-was a young, newly-minted doctor by the name of Roxy Coleman. Her speciality was genetics.

"Rogers and I have finished the DNA profile of the subject patient you requested and searched for anomalous readings."

"And?"

Coleman shrugged. She sported cafe-au-lait skin, black hair kept in a cropped pixie cut, and huge green eyes. She was also very earnest and eager to prove herself. "It was a little inconclusive. Given the ages of the samples, they could have degraded somewhat."

"How do the three compare?"

"That's the strange part. Are you sure all three samples are from the same patient?"

"Very. Why?"

"Well . . ." Coleman drew up a chair. "The first sample, from mid-2258, shows a female subject of mixed race-but then, who isn't these days?-with a genetic defect that causes a nerve damaging disease we haven't yet identified. The second, obtained in early 2259, has . . . oddities. The blood sample has clear markers for both the female subject, and an unknown male. But the records you gave me didn't indicate any sort of transfusion."

Anthea frowned. "Tell me about the second DNA profile you found."

Coleman consulted her notes on the PADD she held. "Um. Male, as I said. Mix of Caucasian and Indo-European markers. At first glance, it looks pretty normal, until I noticed that, ah . . . the male's blood cells seemed to have been frozen in the middle of . . . attacking the female's blood cells. Some of them are . . . fused is the only word I can think of for it. In the third sample, that process seems to be complete. Rogers and I found no trace of the genetic defect from the first and second samples. There's no male DNA present in it, but now it shares several alleles in common with the male DNA from the second sample."

Staring, Anthea leaned forward. "Are you telling me that a secondary DNA contribution fixed the defect?"

"And essentially replaced several markers, like parental DNA. The male donor would now register as a sibling to the female."

She thought furiously. Indo-European ancestry in the male donor? Blood that cured-

It hit her like a blow to the head. Somehow, Anthea managed to mask her reaction with confusion. "I don't really see how that's possible, but . . . Wait. I recall hearing something recently, a serum developed by Doctor Leonard McCoy that he used on Captain James Kirk."

Coleman blinked her green eyes. "I haven't heard of anything, Lieutenant Commander."

"Please, call me Anthea. At least while we're in here. Let me see if I can get you some information on it. It might be applicable in future."

"Yes, sir."

She dismissed Dr. Coleman and leaned back in her chair. McCoy had used Khan's blood to heal Kirk after his injury-the exact nature of which she still wasn't sure of, but that wasn't entirely relevant at the moment. She'd asked John to look into helping Lucille Harewood. Had he done it by using his blood to heal her?

Quickly, she accessed the medical files of Kirk, James T. and forwarded them to Coleman, along with a note to see if Kirk's DNA showed the same anomalous DNA blending.

Coleman got back to her that evening. The blood samples obtained from James Kirk during his convalescence the previous year, and those from his checkup just prior to his recent departure, did indeed show the same unknown donor contribution and subsequent assimilation.

Khan's blood had cured Lucille Harewood, as it had healed James Kirk.

Needing to know, she used an extractor on her sleeping baby, now nearly seven months old, to obtain a blood sample. She personally delivered it to Coleman the next morning.

"I need you to keep this one out of the official testing," she said quietly. "I just need to know how this sample compares to the male DNA obtained from Patient 1 and James Kirk."

"Yes, Lieut- Anthea."

"Don't let anyone know where you got the sample, please. And don't ask where I got it, either."

Coleman nodded and went out to her work station. Anthea tried to keep her anxiety at bay, and tried to focus on her own work.

Eventually, the young doctor came back. She spoke quietly when she did.

"The latest sample has thirteen alleles in common with the unknown male donor," she informed Anthea. "It's a direct parental link."

Anthea didn't respond, just stared at the surface of her desk.

"Do you know what this means?" Coleman asked her in an excited whisper. "If we could find this donor, we might be able to cure everything. Barring that, if we were able to replicate enough DNA from this latest-"

"No," she snapped. "Not going to happen. Forget I gave you this assignment, Coleman."

"But, Lieutenant Commander-"

"I said no, Doctor Coleman."

"You know something!" the young woman said. She planted her hands on the desk. "Who is this unknown male? Who is his son you just had me test?"

They stared each other down, and then, slowly, Coleman's face went pale. "You have a son," she whispered. "It's him, isn't it? That's why you don't want anyone to know."

Anthea's only response was a terse, "Get out."