by Gennita Low
“Yeah. Can I also have a copy of that program that created the avatar?” She was glad the mental activity stayed mental. She didn’t want to think what her body looked like writhing about. Not to mention her hands exploring some big parts. Sheesh. She needed some time to think this out. No doubt T. would be amused at the idea of having wild monkey sex in virtual reality, but Helen would prefer to keep that private.
She got out of the Portal, brushing down her pants. Oh-oh.
“I need a quick bathroom break, Doc. Can the post-checkup wait?”
Dr. Kirkland was copying things from his notes. “Of course, Miss Roston. Go ahead.” He checked his watch. “Everything is on schedule, don’t worry.”
Helen nodded. Halfway out the door, she turned back. “He had us falling off a building, Doc. I don’t know about his, but tell him that’s not good for my health.” Ha. Let him take the blame.
Dr. Kirkland looked up from his files. “I wondered what all those spikes in the readings were about. He did pause to come out of sync for a few minutes to instruct us not to panic. I guess that was the point when all your vitals were a bit erratic.”
Derek snorted. “The term ‘gone haywire’ describes it better,” he said, pushing his glasses back up.
That must have been when Hades had ordered her to stay quiet while her face was buried in his chest. She remembered feeling strange, as if her body and mind were separated. Then all the blood had seemed to rush into her head. So he could communicate with Dr. Kirkland and Derek, and was giving them a rundown of the situation while he was holding her.
“You mean, if I had an unexplained seizure, you would be pulling me out of the chair?”
She meant that as her usual way of teasing, but Dr. Kirkland’s expression was solemn. “Your life is in my hands, Miss Roston. I take that very seriously. This isn’t just your monitor room; it’s your connection back to us. I’ll bring you right back here if something goes wrong.” He smiled, softening the gravity of his words. “But I also know you’d probably be all right as long as he’s around.”
He being Hades, of course. People sure had a lot of faith in the guy. It was her life they were playing with and everyone was talking as if he had any say about how the experiment was going to go. One would think he was in charge of the program or something. T. Kirkland. Hmmm. “Better start calling me Helen, Doc, if you’re going to get all serious about me.”
She caught him smiling again at her parting shot as she headed out the door. The restroom was empty. Good. She checked her reflection. She looked normal, although her usually hazel eyes had a tinge of green in them. That happened whenever she was emotionally charged. Okay, aroused. She made a face at the mirror, then moved quickly into one of the stalls. She pulled her pants down.
Aroused. She came in here because…she didn’t even need to check…her panties were wet. She touched herself and fell back against the commode with a small gasp. Her sensitivity was like an electric current. She moved her middle finger and shuddered at the extreme pleasure that shot up from point of contact to somewhere behind her eyes.
“Sweet holy hot tamale,” Helen muttered. She slid her finger again and bit down on her lower lip. “This is not good.”
She pulled at the toilet paper a few feet away. This wasn’t good at all. She was all hot and bothered by some image in her head. Worse. She was about to have the best orgasm she’d had in…months…Shit, she couldn’t remember when she was this urgently close to coming without a man around.
She blew her nose into the paper. Well, this was getting more and more interesting. Or fucked up. Or both. Should she report her condition to Dr. Kirkland and T.? Or should she keep this quiet? The doctor was recording her brain waves and vitals to help keep her alive, but umm…she didn’t think she wanted to explain why she was simulating sex with her trainer. As for T., nothing would surprise T., but she would use the information for more of her mind games later. Of that, Helen had no doubt.
Well, she wasn’t going to have someone coming in here and catching her moaning by herself. Hades said they were the drivers behind the theories, so she was going to wait and see what he would do. If he reported what happened, then she was bound to get questions from either Dr. Kirkland or T.
Washing her hands, Helen looked at her reflection again. Her eyes still had those green glints, dammit. She curled the loose tendrils of her hair behind her ears. She would not allow herself to be manipulated by someone unseen. She was a GEM operative first and this was just another contract. GEM operatives always got the better of their men.
Arousal during a job was nothing new to him. He’d seduced women while interrogating them. If need be, he’d used sex to manipulate and retrieve information.
“I’m fine. I don’t need any help,” he said and clicked off the intercom.
He got up and walked through the private entrance into his quarters, unzipping his VR avatar suit as he stepped into the shower area. He stepped out of the garment, slung it on a nearby rack, and closed the shower door. He turned on the water, leaving it on cold.
He looked down. His hand reached for his flesh, his eyes closing involuntarily. Anticipation was a strange aphrodisiac. She’d aroused him more than any other woman had been able to in a long time, and this time hadn’t even been real. Nonetheless, her hands and her lips had the same effect of her actually physically being with him. Her having made a certain part of him bigger hadn’t helped, since he felt the heaviness of his erection even more during the session. The unfamiliarity of it had actually made him harder, tempted him to go a little further.
He wasn’t averse to crossing the line. God knew he’d done that more times than he could count, but in all those times, he’d been in total control, even in the middle of sex. He opened his eyes, ignoring the sharp stab of cold liquid needles on his head and shoulders. He thought of how wet she’d felt. Real or not, he’d felt her response through the feedback oscillator. His lips twisted wryly. The experiment—a virtual reflection of her virtual reality experience being fed back to him—was going to be more successful than they’d thought. He had felt her very close to coming without having touched her. What would it be like when their minds became even more in sync with remote viewing?
The cold water didn’t appear to affect his current condition. Kirkland would be coming over here soon. He squeezed a small amount of liquid soap in his hand. Reached down. Closed his eyes. And thought of the feel of her hand around him.
Six
Area 4, secret test facility, Virginia
“I want you to find out the identity of our target. Here are the coordinates. Find out exactly what they’re doing. Remember how it felt to lose to that woman. We aren’t going to let some other candidate win, are we? Think of it. You can beat her. This is your chance.”
Zoom.
Dark. Dark.
“This is where I am. The room inside the monitor room. Right turn. Electronic panel. Going to open…”
“We’re not interested in the panel, Agent. Go through into that room on the right. What’s in there?”
Zoom. Focus.
“I…the door is gray and made of…”
“Agent 22! Just walk through it.”
“I…can’t.”
“What does he mean, he can’t?”
“I don’t know. He’s never said that before. Listen, Agent 22, go through the door and tell us what’s in that room. This is an order.”
Zoom. Close-up. Make door open. Make door disappear.
“I…can’t. Can’t go through. Feels like thick liquid. Like drowning. No, there is some electrical current. I feel energy. No, waves, like…”
“Shut him up. Those drugs are really fucking him up more and more. He’s useless.”
“Agent 22, this is your monitor. I’m your guide. You can trust me, remember? You can go through anything. You’re the camera. Tell us what you see. Zoom in.”
“Can’t…see. Feel lots of pressure. Like waterfall. Like electric current. Like big waves movi
ng and rolling together.”
“He isn’t even making sense. The others never had this problem. Waterfall, big waves?”
“Let me try another way. Agent 22, listen to me. Why can’t you go through?”
Zoom. Pan back.
“This is what I see. Someone walks into the room. A doctor. He opens a drawer and pulls out some files. He walks back toward the entrance. The phone rings. He pauses, then returns to the desk and picks up the phone.
“He says, ‘Yes, I’m alone. I punched in the secured line. I’ll bring them to you and we can go over them.’ The doctor then hangs up. He has the file…”
“Oh, shut him down. We want to get into the room, not follow this doctor.”
“No, it’s okay. We’ll see where the doctor’s going, find out more about this project. Follow him, Agent. Where’s he now?”
Zoom. Cut.
“Entering another level. Gray carpet. Looking up. Different…I can’t see well.”
“Follow him, Agent. I’m here with you. Don’t be afraid.”
“The passage is light, then dim, then almost shadowy. Like a tunnel with strange walls. The doctor knocks on a door. The pounding’s so loud! He palms the scanner and the door slides open. The doctor steps into the—oh, my God—”
“Shit! He’s screaming like he’s in pain! Why’s he covering his eyes?”
“Agent, what’s wrong?”
Dark. Dark. “Can’t see, can’t see! Loud! Mental block. Can’t see! Headache. Get me out, get me out!”
“That’s the second time his stupid headaches have interrupted the sessions. I say let’s use someone new.”
“Please, please, I need another dose.” Dark. Gone. “It hurts! The air is like water. The energy is beating on my head.”
“You’re right. The drug has eaten his brain or something. Look at his vitals. He’s having difficulty breathing.”
“I say let him suffocate. It would be natural causes, right?”
“No. They’ll discover the serum in his system. We don’t want anyone to be suspicious about any of the patients here. Let’s snap him out of it. Agent, can you hear me?”
Dark. Dark. Very, very dark.
COS COMMAND CENTER
Kirkland put down the files he had brought along on the huge desk that dominated the room. The private living quarters suited the owner—stark, simple, and work-oriented. He couldn’t find a single thing there that betrayed anything about the man who was casually putting on some clothes in front of him. Like the desk, his presence dominated the room. He wondered whether the man had any other life outside here.
“Here they are. Nothing unusual. I assume the session went very well? She mentioned you both were falling from a great height. Did you plan that?” Dr. Kirkland sat down.
He watched the man throw the wet towel into a bin nearby, then walk with that unhurried air he always had toward the small kitchen.
“No, it was unplanned,” he said as he poured a drink from the refrigerator.
Kirkland nodded at the silent offer of a glass. “Was it a test of her reflexes? Or how she was adjusting to VR?”
The Portal was the newest tech advancement for VR and with its brain wave synchronicity mode, he was concerned about the complex issues behind the program. As a doctor, he was excited to see two candidates so suited for the new program. He had been a junior aide during the first experiments in the V-Program years ago, and now he was part of the main research team of V2, as COMCEN had secretly renamed this program.
“Yes.”
“They like to file every finding and effect about Miss Roston ASAP,” Kirkland said.
“Later, Doc. Tonight.”
Kirkland usually advised against that, but he was talking to a man who could recall a memory of a map of a hostile camp down to the color of the coffee cup in the hand of the man he had assassinated from six years ago. He would never forget the amazing show of the man’s computation abilities during the initial stages of finding and approving the trainer role for V2.
“Will you be at the Q and A session?” Finishing the cold protein juice, Kirkland got up to put the glass in the kitchen sink.
“Probably, if I’m back. I’ll want to listen in on the tape if I’m late.”
Kirkland noted the new shoes the man was putting on and wondered what assignment he was going into. “I’m sure Miss Roston will be asking a bunch of questions. She’s the one taking all the risks, after all. She’s been very cooperative, though. Her psych profile said she wasn’t a team player but I find that to be untrue.”
“Are you sure, Doc?”
Dr. Kirkland caught the amusement that flitted momentarily across the man’s face. “She has always answered every question, even the ones that were private. She hasn’t objected to the lack of privacy and has forgone many things without complaint. It’s not every day we find a woman like that,” he pointed out, and hastily added, “or a man.”
The amusement was now evident in the man’s voice. “I know you like her, Kirkland, no need to get so defensive. GEM operatives are very professional. The few I’ve seen and worked with have always been exceptional when it came to adapting to extreme environments. Hell’s exceptionally good at her job.” The lips quirked. “She also has an exceptional way with men, as you noticed.”
So it was Hell, the nickname her friends used. That was quick progress. It was very good that the two of them were getting along.
“Yes, it’ll probably help speed our synchronization,” the man agreed.
Kirkland rubbed his nose, trying to hide his surprise. How did he always read his mind at the oddest moment? It was unsettling, even after all these years. “Yes, of course.”
“You’re probably going to stay up all night wondering which came first, the synchronization of brain waves or the ease with which we’re relating to each other.”
Kirkland silently agreed, although the chicken or egg question wouldn’t worry the people who were going to watch the test tonight. Some of them hated what they mocked as ‘woo-woo’ stuff. But with nine department heads sitting in—some of whom were already miffed that their candidates didn’t get them the crown—this was a very important project for them. And it all rested on one woman’s shoulders right now. He wondered whether she understood the importance.
He looked at the worn book opened on the kitchen table, glancing down at the page quickly. “E, huh? What’s today’s word?” He’d recently become aware of the other man’s strange habit of thumbing through the dictionary. “Is it a difficult one?”
“Exceptionally hard.” There was that small quirk of lips again, as if something was privately amusing him.
Oh…exceptional. Kirkland looked down at the page again. “Constituting, or occurring as, an exception; not ordinary or average,” he read out loud, “needing special attention or presenting a special problem.” He glanced up and quizzically asked, “Which meaning?”
The quirk became even more mocking. “Both.”
He was missing a joke here somewhere; he was sure of it, but then he was slow to catch them. Following the man out, Kirkland watched him pick a set of keys from a panel that had dozens of sets hanging there. “You’re dividing your time with too many operations,” he observed. “Consolidate and give someone else more responsibilities.”
“We all have to do our assignments, Doc, but Miss Roston will get my top priority, don’t worry. Now I have to get going.” He pocketed the keys. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”
Kirkland sighed. Mind games, that was what they were all trained for. He was just a poor scientist trying to get some results in a controlled environment. Needless to say, COMCEN wasn’t a good place for scientists.
“You’re fifteen minutes late,” Helen announced as Flyboy hurried down the stairway to her, his long limbs in crisp white pants.
“You’re a tough woman,” he said when he reached her at the bottom. “I told you I’d be ten minutes later than you, and that makes me five minutes late.”
�
�What were you doing, beautifying that perfect coif?” she mocked.
Flyboy laughed, his teeth perfectly straight and white, of course. He looked boyish in his cream T-shirt and pants, his hair flicked back carelessly. He tapped on his watch.
“How much time do we have before I have to get you back here?”
“We’re eating outside the Center?”
“What, you want to be cooped up in here all day? Want to come or not?”
“Yeah.” A breath of fresh air from everything would be welcome. “Where are we going? Not too fancy a place, I hope?”
Flyboy’s grin was devilish. “That’s for another date. Got to slowly work you up to fancy. Then you’ll appreciate me more and more.”
“Ah,” Helen said with a nod. They walked past security, then through the double doors. “It’s cheap hamburger and fries then.”
The weather was balmy outside, just turning a bit cool, especially in the shade. Flyboy put on his sunglasses as he pointed to the vehicle parked not too far away.
“My, my, Center must pay their commandos very, very well,” she murmured. This was an expensively-packaged European car, with the extra knobs and whistles under the hood, the kind one admired in a magazine with no hope of purchasing. She paused a few paces away to admire it. “Six hundred horsepower. Double overhead cams. Sixteen valves, supercharged. Top speed 180 miles an hour. Zero to sixty in five point five secs. Back to dead stop thirteen point five secs.”
Flyboy gave her a bemused look. “Not quite the typical girl talker, are you? Next you’ll tell me you’re a race freak.”
Helen stole a quick glance at Flyboy but he was just looking at her with open admiration. Strange coincidence that she had just passed on a certain image to Hades, and here was a race car. Still, they couldn’t have possibly produced the exact image in that quick a time.
“I like cars,” she said in an easy voice. “You must be superrich to own this one, sweetheart.”
“I like speed.” Flyboy grinned as he flipped the car keys into the air. “And I test drive vehicles for anyone who is kind enough to lend me fast things.”