Chapter 8
Wizzit teleported us back to HQ without any delay. I think he was maybe a little worried about what the Chinese police officers would do once the threat was removed, and he wanted to avoid any confrontation. He materialized us in the lounge, where my parents were waiting.
"Trevor, are you all right?" my mother asked anxiously. "I heard her say you were hurt."
"I'll be all right soon, Mom. Don't worry," I said, trying to keep the pain out of my voice. I waved Toby over. "I think my arm's broken," I explained quietly.
He nodded. Toby has the most medical training on the team. He is usually the one who sets the broken bones and dislocated joints that we sometimes experience, although he has trained us all to do that if necessary. He limped over to me and performed a cursory examination. "It's broken, all right," he grunted. "Don't think it needs setting, though." With that, he turned away and levered himself painfully into one of the comfortable chairs.
Trina glanced at Toby, then came over and offered me a hand up. "Thanks, Trina," I said with a smile as I stood up on my good leg. She laid my good arm across her shoulders and helped me hop over into a chair myself. I had no idea what kind of bruises I was sporting, and I didn't want to know how bad I looked. At the moment, all I wanted to do was to lie back and feel the soothing drowsiness of a healing coma.
While I waited for it to descend on me, I looked around the room. Except for Trina, it appeared as though everyone was hurt in one way or another. Even Angie was limping a little. Trina was talking quietly to my parents and Angie, probably explaining that everything was fine and that healing up was the first thing we always did after a mission. Angie was still surrounded by pink mist, I noticed. I grinned and wondered just how long Trina would let her go before reminding her to deactivate.
"Initiating healing comas now," Wizzit announced.
I closed my eyes with a sigh of relief and felt myself sink deeper into the cushion of the chair. There was a slight rustle as someone moved closer to me. "Trevor," I heard Angela say worriedly, "are you sure you're going to be all right?" She touched my shoulder, then immediately yanked her hand back with a little shriek.
"What's wrong?" Trina asked her.
"N-nothing," Angie said. "He gave me a little shock, that's all. It was just static electricity or something."
"Hmm," Wizzit said. "Very interesting. Scanning . . ." A few seconds later, he said, "Angie, could you deactivate, then reactivate again?"
"Sure," she said. "Why?"
"Just something I'd like to test. How's your foot, by the way? You're limping."
"It's fine. I just twisted my ankle a little. Junior-Prime-Pink-Deactivate-Junior-Prime-Pink-Activate!" Through half-closed eyelids, I saw the pink glow emanating from her flicker, then grow steady again. "Is that good?"
"That's fine. Now, please touch Trevor's shoulder again. Trina, stand ready to catch her in case she has trouble remaining upright."
"To catch me?" Angie repeated, sounding anxious. "What's going to happen?
"Nothing bad, I assure you," Wizzit said, honey simply oozing from his voice. "I would just like to try an experiment, that's all."
"Well . . . okay. Here goes." I felt her hand touch me again, and then she made a small sound like a sigh. I felt an odd lessening of the lethargy produced by my healing coma. A short time later, her hand moved away, and I went back to happy-drowsy-land.
"What happened?" Angela asked, sounding bewildered. "For a moment there, I felt so sleepy I could barely stand up, but now I'm fine again."
"How is your ankle?" Wizzit asked, practically purring now.
"It . . . it doesn't hurt any more." She sounded surprised. "Wizzit, what did you do?"
"Nothing special. I just let you piggy-back off your brother's healing coma, that's all," he said, sounding as smug as I have ever heard him. "That shock you experienced earlier suggested the possibility to me. You and Trevor have enough genes in common that his force shield very nearly recognizes you as part of him. All I did was to change the base number of your badge to Trevor's prime number squared, and your genes did the rest."
"Oh. Okay. I . . . see."
"Do you now?"
Angie burst out laughing. "No, not really. But the main thing is that you can heal me now, too, right?"
"From minor injuries, yes, with some preparation. I wouldn't want to have to heal you from anything serious."
"Trevor's number is . . . eleven, right? I think that's what Padma said. So now I'm one hundred twenty-one?"
"For the moment. I'm changing it back right now; it will take effect the next time you activate. I don't want too many elevenses floating around the grid for too long; it would skew the balance."
"Oh, right." She gave an uncertain laugh. "We, uh, we wouldn't want to skew the balance now, would we?"
"Most definitely not."
Attack Doll 4: Primes Emeriti Page 8