Read Online Regeneration by Stephanie Saulter - Free Book Online

shaking, I wouldn’t bet on it. Are the meds not getting to you, are they not working, or are you not taking them?”
    Zavcka stared, this time definitely taken aback. It looked like she was winding herself up for a riposte, but then decided against it. Her shoulders slumped and she chuckled bitterly.
    “No hiding anything from you, is there? They get them to me all right, when I request them. I forgot to ask last night.” She pointed at the cup of water.
    Aryel understood. “You took them just before I arrived.”
    “Mmm.” Zavcka sounded tired. “Another thing to look forward to: not having to ask for permission to not be ill.” She regarded Aryel wearily. “You never got it, I suppose.”
    Aryel shook her head silently.
    “Lucky you. Anyone else?”
    “Once we knew what to look for, we could identify the people at risk among those who share your sequences. They’ve all received tailored epigenetic suppressants.”
    “What about the one who had it badly—Rhys?”
    “Rhys opted for a dermal implant so he gets his meds automatically. He hasn’t had a seizure in years.”
    “And the sister?”
    “Gwen never developed symptoms.” Aryel looked at her appraisingly. “Even in here, I’d’ve thought you’d have had news of her.”
    Zavcka shrugged. “They’re keen for us to stay abreast of popular culture, and she’s hard to miss. But I can’t say I’ve been terribly interested.” Her gaze turned penetrating. “What about the other sister?”
    Aryel felt a warning chill run up her spine, although she’d known from the start that the conversation would inevitably turn to this. The precise nature of Zavcka’s interest was part of what she had come here to learn, but it was important not to make it easy, nor to trade away more than was absolutely necessary.
    “Do you actually have the nerve to ask about Ellyn?” She drummed her own fingers on the table; Ellyn wasn’t the person Zavcka wanted to know about. “She’s alive. She’s healthy. She’s as happy as it’s possible for her to be.”
    Zavcka stared down at her hands. They were no longer shaking, but they still seemed to require much of her attention. “And the child?”
    “What makes you think I know?”
    “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Aryel!” Another angry explosion, quickly contained this time. “Please don’t insult my intelligence. You will know exactly where she is and what she’s up to for as long as you’re both alive. It’s what I would do.” It was no more than the truth, and they both knew it.
    “Ellyn’s daughter is also doing well,” Aryel said. “She’s happy and she’s safe.”
    “She isn’t —” Zavcka drew a deep breath, visibly calming herself. “Never mind. Call her Ellyn’s child if it makes you feel better. Where is she?”
    “Come now, Zavcka. You know you’ll never be told that.”
    “Surely you can tell me whether she’s in England, or if they placed her abroad—?”
    Aryel was slowly, deliberately, shaking her head.
    Zavcka sighed. “ Fine . But you’re sure she’s all right?”
    “She’s all right.”
    “She doesn’t know anything?”
    “Not yet. Possibly not ever.”
    “Or . . . need anything?”
    “No. She’s well taken care of.” Aryel looked her over, remembering, acutely aware of the room’s bareness. “The thought that she might have ended up poor really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
    “It would just be . . . wrong . Unnecessary.” Aryel’s stare was so long and hard that eventually Zavcka twitched and snapped, “What?”
    “Wealth is no more necessary than poverty.” Aryel didn’t try to keep the sting out of her voice. “She has everything she needs. We would never allow her to suffer on your account.”
    She’d expected a comeback and was surprised instead to see Zavcka deflate, slumping in her chair, silent and stubborn. She was still the haughty aristocrat, still refusing to yield an inch, but there was an edginess to her now, an inconsistency to her focus