Chapter 18
The next day, I drew the lucky straw and teleported out to see Shelley. She was, to put it politely, a wreck. She looked like she had been crying off and on since the interrogation and hadn't slept a wink all night. I gotta say, that's never a good look for anyone. She was happy enough to see me, though. She flung her arms around me and just wouldn't let go, sobbing the entire time.
To be honest, I was a little worried. I had seen Shelley discouraged before, or angry, or in tears -- even drunk once, I think -- but never so out-of-control hysterical as she seemed right then. Not knowing what else to do, I just stood there and let her cling to me and cry it out while I stroked her hair and said brilliant things like "It's okay, hon. It's all right."
Her emotional storm blew itself out after about five minutes. She pulled away from me and tried to wipe away the damp spots on my tee-shirt. "I'm sorry, Blue," she managed to say. "I -- I hate for anyone to see me like this."
"Don't worry about it," I told her, meaning it. I took hold of her hands and pulled them away from my shirt. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for."
"Thanks." She began swiping at her eyes and cheeks, brushing away the tears. "I was so worried that no one would come out today."
"Why wouldn't we?" I exclaimed, shocked. "Shelley, we're never going to abandon you! Never!"
She looked down. "I . . . I guess I knew that, but after the way I blew up at Black yesterday, I was afraid that . . ."
"Again, don't worry about it."
"Was Black upset?"
I considered my answer, remembering the stricken look on Bill's face. "He . . . didn't know quite what to make of it," I said diplomatically. "So what happened?"
She ran a hand down her face. At first I didn't think she was going to answer, but then she said in a quiet voice, "Have you ever heard of Stockholm syndrome?"
"Stockholm syndrome?" I repeated. "Uh, yeah, I think so. Isn't that the idea that kidnapping victims sometimes fall in love with their kidnappers?" I stared at her. "That didn't happen to you, did it? I mean, you don't seem the type."
"I may have had a touch of it," she admitted. She suddenly looked up. "Wizzit, is anyone listening in right now?"
"Negative." His voice came, not from the ceiling, but from my belt.
"Good. Can you please put a lock on this visit so that no one can view it unless I give the okay?"
"Certainly." Wizzit, I had noticed, seemed always to be on his best behavior with Shelley these days. "Not even Black?"
"Especially not Black."
"Will do."
Shelley breathed a sigh of relief, then she looked over at me. "I have to talk to someone about this, Blue," she said. "You know the doctor who took me out of here . . .?"
"Doctor Schmidt?" I prompted her.
She nodded. "Evan. He insisted I call him that. He was very nice to me. Very warm, very caring, very friendly. It was quite a surprise, and I guess I wasn't prepared for it. We spent a lot of time talking, and . . ." Her voice trailed off.
"Did the two of you do anything else besides just talk?"
She shook her head. "Not really. He kissed me once, and I kissed him back. It was pretty intense; at least it felt that way to me. It might have gone further, and I kind of wanted it to go further, but there was a security guard in the room with us, so nothing happened." She gave me a crooked smile. "His was the first friendly face I had seen in months."
I looked down with dismay at my blue-glowing self. "Shelley, you know why we have to stay shielded while we're here, right? If the security cam somehow caught one of us despite Wizzit's precautions, or if someone walked in before we could get away . . ."
"I know." She sat straight up, as if she had suddenly thought of something. "You don't think they set the whole thing up just to get to me, do you? The beating, having Evan come and bring me back to his infirmary, having him --"
"No," I interrupted firmly. "Definitely not, not as far as we were able to tell. Doctor Schmidt just seems to be a fairly decent guy. We don't think he was part of any kind of setup."
"He had already filed four complaints with his superiors about the conditions of your incarceration," Wizzit said, "beginning about a month after you got here."
"Not someone they would be likely to recruit for something like that," I added, and Shelley nodded without looking at me.
Wizzit went on, "His personnel records indicate that he is married, Shelley. One kid, another on the way."
"Yeah, I knew that, and that he and his wife are pretty happy together. It didn't make any difference to the way I felt, though. And then when they took me away from him, and Black showed up almost right away . . ." She lowered her face until it was buried in her hands. I thought I might have heard a sob. "I'm pretty confused right now, Blue. I don't know what I should feel or think or do."
"Do you want me to give you some advice?"
She laughed, and I tried to ignore the hysterical tinge around the edges of it. "Sure, go ahead; it couldn't hurt. I can't promise I'll follow it, but -- okay, what advice do you have for me?"
I put my arm around her shoulders and drew her close to me. "First of all, don't take this the wrong way, Shelley," I said, "but you're kind of nuts right now."
"Tell me something I don't know! I haven't felt normal since I've been here."
"Uh huh. And one thing I've learned is, if you make a decision while you're nuts, then the decision is probably going to be a bad one."
She was silent for several seconds. "So you're telling me not to make any decisions? Just to take things as they come?"
"Something like that. At least until we can get you out of here."
"But what if I . . . what if Evan comes in here and he turns off the security cam and we . . ."
I leaned over and kissed her on the temple. "Shelley, listen to me. Black is a big boy, and he understands what you're going through as well as any of us. Trust me, no one is going to blame you for anything that happens while you're in here, least of all Black."
"But . . . what if I get out and I still feel the way I do now?"
"Then that's the way it goes and we'll deal with it. But I don't think that's going to happen. Shelley, you're one of the smartest and wisest people I know. When you're not nuts, that is," I added, and we both laughed. "The sane Shelley thought that Black was just perfect for her, isn't that right?" She nodded. "Okay. Then who are you going to trust, the sane Shelley or the crazy one I'm sitting with right now?"
She didn't say anything for a while, and then she started to laugh. "That's a good way to put it. Thanks, Blue. You give pretty good advice after all."
We sat for a while in silence together, our arms around each other. I think Shelley was just enjoying the human contact. After a while, she said, "What were those names I gave them yesterday? It sounded like they got someone pretty upset." Then, before I could reply, she said quickly, "No, don't tell me. The less I know, the less I can let slip."
I nodded. That was the principle we had been working under the whole time she was here. "I'll just tell you that we scored a pretty big hit with that one, Shelley. Or rather, you did. The biggest." I squeezed her shoulder. "You came through like a champ for us, hon. We're all proud of you."
We talked for a while longer. I told her in vague terms about Mike and Trina's dinner date and how, ever since then, the two of them had been doing some sort of slow-motion dance of mutual attraction about each other. I assured her that her mom and sister were doing okay and that, as far as Wizzit was able to determine, there were no outstanding charges against either them or Shelley; the whole thing with the stronghouse had died a quiet death once the tests had confirmed that the powder they had found was not cocaine and that the blood on the walls could not have been her father's.
"How are things going with Lily?" she suddenly asked me. "You haven't mentioned her in a
long time."
"I haven't seen her for a long time," I replied. "Not since that mission in Guangzhou. Um, let's see . . . Black and Wizzit have been playing around with that earring I took off of her in Iceland, trying to make a remote control like JB Swift's. Of course, without a test subject, even if they're able to generate a command that it recognizes, they won't know what it does. And Red still thinks I'm obsessed with her."
"Are you obsessed with her?"
I grinned under my force shield. Now that was the Shelley I remembered. "Maybe a little," I admitted. "But not as much as he thinks. To hear him talk, I would -- I don't know -- betray the rest of the team if she offered to give me a kiss or something. It's not like that. Underneath all the Enclave programming, she's really a sweet kid, and I just don't want to see her get hurt."
Shelley nodded. "I hope that --"
"Sorry to interrupt," came Wizzit's voice from my belt, "but Shelley's supper will be delivered in about five minutes. You two had better say your goodbyes now. And don't forget her protein supplement."
I handed Shelley the protein shake I had brought along, and she chugged it down. "You know, I'm getting really tired of these," she commented, grimacing, as she handed me back the empty bottle. "Evan had them give me real meat when I was staying in the infirmary. It was only salisbury steak, but oh, it tasted so good!"
She frowned at the floor. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "between the food and sleeping in an actual bed for a change, I was feeling pretty good when I was in that infirmary. Do you think it's possible I might have transferred some of those good feelings to Evan?"
"Could be," I said with a shrug. "Tell you what, after we get you free, I'll tell Black to take you out and buy you the biggest steak he can find, and you can eat it in a king-sized bed. Most romantic dinner date ever. How's that sound?"
She burst out laughing. "That sounds wonderful! Thanks so much for coming out, Blue. Tell Black I'm sorry and that I want to see him tomorrow."
"Will do."
She gave me another long hug, and I teleported back home.
Attack Doll 4: Primes Emeriti Page 19