Thorne, slumped against the steering wheel, coughed a laugh. “Told you. No one on this bus has a choice. Not even me. Especially not me.”
It carried a choice.
She was a Breeder legend, a ghost story. Vess had been the lead geneticist on the original sterilization project. When it failed, she didn't seek a cure. She sought a workaround . If people couldn’t make babies the old way, she’d make them in vats. If the vats failed, she’d stitch viable tissue together into walking, breathing incubators. She called them Amalgams . The cartel called them her daughters. Everyone else called them monsters. breedbus
But she didn’t stab Vess.
Kaelen looked at the syringe. Then at Thorne. His eyes were tired, not cruel. That was worse. Cruelty had a pattern. Tiredness was infinite. Thorne, slumped against the steering wheel, coughed a laugh