by V. E. Lemp
“Not that I’m aware of.” Karen fidgeted as Alex examined her. She asked if she should continue discussing her dream, and he simply nodded, his eyes never leaving her face. She ducked her head to hide the color rising in her cheeks. As she concluded her report she looked up and noticed Alex yawning. “Sorry, am I going into too much detail?”
“No, I’m just tired. Had to be out late.”
“Had to?” Karen tried to imagine a scenario where Alex couldn’t do exactly as he wished. “You couldn’t change your mind?”
“No. I promised my date months ago and felt obligated. But I probably should’ve made some excuse. It was one of those events where you’re forced to make small talk for hours. Fortunately, my companion had no trouble doing most of the talking.”
“That does sound dull,” Karen said, before realizing how those words might sound. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to imply your date was boring.”
Alex’s eyes were bright with amusement. “Actually, she was. Couldn’t discuss anything except her last trip to Paris, and then only to name-drop and describe her shopping expeditions in tedious detail. Very dull indeed.” He leaned back in his chair and surveyed Karen. “You wouldn’t enjoy such an event, would you?”
“No, I’m not much of a party person.”
“I bet you’d prefer a discussion with people who actually have something to say. Am I right?”
“Yes.” Karen realized she was chewing on one of her fingernails and dropped her hand into her lap.
“I thought so.” Alex rose to his feet and crossed to the room’s single window. “I suppose we’re done for today. You’re free to go.”
Karen took a deep breath. “I do have a question,” she said, rushing to speak before her nerves silenced her.
“Yes?” Alex had opened the blinds and was intently watching something in the street.
“I just wondered why Dr. Vance is so interested in my drawings. They don’t seem to mean anything. Truth is, I’ve never been able to figure out why I draw that stuff. It isn’t like what I paint when I’m awake. Not my style at all.”
“Oh, Ian’s like many people who love art but have no talent. He’s intrigued, I expect. His wife’s an artist, you see.”
“I know. Pandora O’Drury. We studied her work in my photography class.”
“Yes, Dora is very talented. Now, forgive me, but I must leave you. Afraid I double-booked myself this morning. Don’t tell Leena.” He shot her one of those disarming, obviously practiced, grins.
“Of course not.” Karen felt her cheeks flush.
Alex glanced out the window once again. “Take care, kiddo.” He flashed another smile as he exited the room.
Kiddo. He’d called her that before. Karen found the term a bit off-putting. She wasn’t that young. But Alex said it with such charm she was willing to overlook the implication, just to hear that slightly affectionate lilt in his voice. Of course, he probably used that tone with every woman. Karen sighed as she stood. She crossed to the window to look out and see what had captured Alex’s attention.
Leena Rebani was standing on the sidewalk, talking with a man. A slender, pale, dark-haired man. Karen gasped. This was too much of a coincidence. Whatever the consequences, she was going to demand Dr. Rebani identify this man.
Karen dashed into the hall, slowing her pace only when she reached the open door to the lounge. A rattle and crash made her stop and glance into the room.
Max was rummaging through one of the closets that lined the far wall, tossing objects out onto the floor.
Karen crossed to him. “Lose something?”
“They must be here,” Max replied, his voice strangely hollow. “They ran into this room, and there’s no way out. No way without me seeing them …” A ream of copy paper hit the floor.
“Who?” Karen stepped around until she could look up into his face. It was clear he was exhausted—his brown skin was ashy and his lips chapped.
“The people in black. I saw them, in the hall, waiting for me.” Matt glanced down at Karen, his dark eyes unfocused.
Karen steadied her hand before laying it on Max’s arm. “What people? There’s no one here. Just the research team and us. And the doors from the lobby are locked.”
Max shook off Karen’s hand. “I’ve seen them before. They follow me. I’ve seen them. You can’t tell me I haven’t.”
Karen took two steps back. “Are you feeling all right? If you’re ill …”
“I'm fine.” Max slumped, and a shudder racked his body. When he lifted his head he ran the back of his hand across his eyes, which had regained their usual clarity. “Just thought I saw something… But it was nothing. Guess my eyes are playing tricks on me.” He took a step and stumbled, reaching blindly for the wall.
“Hold up,” Karen said, as Max slid to the floor. She knelt down beside him, calling for help.
Jasper James appeared in the doorway. He disappeared long enough to summon two assistants from the lab. After a few moments, all three rushed to Max’s side and waved Karen away. “We’ll take it from here,” James said. “Go and find Leena, would you?”
Karen reluctantly rose to her feet. “Dr. Rebani was outside with some strange man …” But at that moment she heard Leena Rebani’s voice ring out behind her.
“Just someone asking directions. Now go, Karen. Don’t worry about Max. He’s probably just dehydrated. I suspect too much late-night partying. Anyway, I’d appreciate you not spreading this around. I’m sure you don’t want to embarrass Max in front of the others.”
“No, of course not.” Karen backed away as Rebani, James, and the assistants huddled around Max. She walked off without speaking the words that lay on the tip of her tongue. Leena Rebani’s comment didn’t make sense. Max couldn’t have been partying. It was impossible. He, like all the student subjects, was confined to the Indigo Building every night.
Karen was still shaken by Max’s collapse when she left for her first class. Alex had asked if she regretted her decision to join the project. Until this moment, she would’ve said no. Definitely not. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She shouldered her portfolio and focused her thoughts on her paintings. She’d have some excellent works for her senior project. That was all that mattered. She could put up with anything for a few months to ensure a successful exhibit.
As for Alex Wythe—well, she’d enjoy her daydreams as long as she could.
SIX
As graduation approached, Karen realized she’d made a crucial error in accepting the Morpheus Project job. To complete the requirements for her BFA, she had to attend the opening of her senior class show. Each featured artist was required to sit with their exhibit during the entire event to answer questions concerning their pieces. Karen’s advisor was not sympathetic when asked if this requirement could be waived. “Hell no, not unless you want to fail your senior project” were his exact words. So that was that. Karen couldn’t afford to fail, but on the other hand, there was the Morpheus Project’s non-negotiable curfew. The show ran until eleven, so there was no way she could return to the Indigo Building in time.
“That’s a bummer.” Val didn’t look up from her abnormal psychology textbook. She rubbed at her temple with one hand and grimaced. “Damn, I’m sick of these headaches. Must be the air in this dump.”
“You’ll have to ask Vance for the night off.” Pilar scraped another plate and handed it over to Karen to wash.
“He won’t like it.” Drew was still lounging at the table. The four students were the only ones at dinner. Lee and Ingrid had gone to an early showing of Metropolis at the campus cinema, and Max was in his room. He’d returned to the project after a brief stay in the hospital but claimed to be exhausted much of the time.
“Yeah, but what’s he going to do? Fire her? We’re so far into the project it wouldn’t matter. It’s practically over. Thank God.” Val sighed deeply.
Karen knew Val was heartily sick of the Morpheus Project. Everyone knew that. Val didn’t hesitate to express her boredo
m with the job and her frustration with her roommates. Her frequent headaches only exacerbated her peevishness.
“Go to Dr. Vance and just lay it out,” Drew said. “He isn’t totally unreasonable. I’ve asked for extensions on some research assignments and he’s allowed them.”
“I suppose.” Karen didn’t look forward to asking anything of Ian Vance, especially after her sleepwalking incident. He’d already made allowances for her. She dreaded asking for another favor.
“Dr. Vance can’t possibly expect you to sacrifice your degree for this stupid project.” Val slammed her book shut. “Anyway, you can just walk out if you have to. You’d only miss a week or two of work.”
“True, but I’d hate to drop out.” Karen wasn’t just thinking of the money but also of more time spent in Alex Wythe’s company. No matter how infrequent their encounters, at least while she was involved with the project there was a chance she’d see him. Once the project was over… She shook her head. “I plan to finish the job, if Dr. Vance will allow it.”
“I know what you mean,” Pilar said. “I’ve thought about leaving, but like you, I’m determined to see it through.”
“Why’d you think of leaving?” Drew stared at Pilar with surprise. “It’s pretty easy money, and I thought that’s what mattered to you.”
Pilar looked him over. “You haven’t experienced anything that’s made you question what’s going on here, Drew?”
“No, why should I?”
“It’s not a question of should, it’s just …” Pilar rubbed the back of her neck. “I caught Max acting oddly even before he went to the hospital. He was chasing imaginary things up and down the hall.”
“Did he say what?” Karen had a pretty good idea of the answer but felt it prudent to feign ignorance.
“People in black or something. He said he’d caught glimpses of strangers roaming the building but when he followed them they disappeared. Into the air, I suppose.” Pilar shook her head. “He seemed so confused. So lost. And then,” she added, lowering her eyes, “there are those dreams I have …”
“We can’t talk about that,” Drew snapped.
“Oh, right.” Pilar shot Drew a pitying look. “The sacred research protocol.”
“We don’t need to know all the details of the project.”
“No, I guess we’re just supposed to cash our checks and keep our mouths shut.” Pilar glanced over at Karen. “Don’t you have any questions, Karen, about what’s going on here?”
Lots of questions—about the dark-haired men, Vance’s intense interest in her drawings, Max’s strange behavior, but she said, “No, not really.” Better to bury those questions than jeopardize her place in the project.
Pilar sighed. “And you, Val?”
“I think”—a shocking level of venom laced Val’s voice—“Vance and the other researchers are really running another kind of experiment. Planting weird thoughts in our brains and seeing how long it takes us to crack or something. But I ain’t cracking. I'm gonna take them for every dime and flip ’em the bird when I leave.”
“That’s ridiculous. I’m not listening to any more of this crap.” Drew shoved back his chair and stood up, glaring at Val.
“Suit yourself.” Val tossed her head of brightly colored hair. “But I bet I’m right.”
Drew snorted in derision and stalked out of the room.
“Sorry to have stirred up any trouble.” Karen managed a weak smile for the two remaining students. “Guess I’ll just ask Dr. Vance for that night off. He can’t be too angry, right?”
Pilar and Val exchanged a glance. “Of course not,” Pilar said.
But later, as Karen was being hooked up to the nightly monitors, she mentally rehearsed what she’d say over and over, until the moment she finally fell asleep.
SEVEN
The next morning Karen approached Ian Vance’s office with trepidation. She knew she was being foolish—she’d never seen Vance lose his temper. His cool demeanor, combined with an air of absolute confidence, compelled respect and obedience without any overt show of force.
One of the fluorescent light fixtures echoed Karen’s jitters by buzzing and streaking the plain cement-block walls with chiaroscuro shadows. Outside Vance’s office, Karen gripped the doorknob just long enough to draw a deep, steadying breath. As she turned the knob she heard voices and paused, leaving the door slightly ajar.
It was Ian Vance’s voice and one other. The distinctively lovely tones, with their musical intonation, identified the other speaker as Leena Rebani.
“The interpreters think at least three of our subjects have true potential,” Vance said. “Those are better odds than we expected.”
Leena Rebani murmured something Karen didn’t catch.
“I know, I know,” Vance said. “But I never imagined this first project would be an overwhelming success. It’s enough we’ve found the three. Especially the one. Quite a find, that one.”
“I’m not sure,” Rebani replied. “I’m concerned we’re pushing too hard too fast. There’ve been problems lately. And interference from some I thought our partners …”
“There are always rebels in any group. But I’ve been assured they won’t be allowed to affect our work. Besides, we expected slight bumps in the road.”
“Not sure I’d call that Max McCormick thing a bump …”
“Nonsense. An actor imagining things? What could be more typical? You must remember what we’re doing here, Leena. We’re opening a new frontier. We must expect a few casualties. But all in all we’ve been fortunate. No major crisis yet.”
“I’m still concerned about possible aftereffects. The last thing we need is some lawsuit drawing attention to our work.”
“Leena, you fret too much.” Vance’s expansive tone seemed designed to envelope the listener in his own sphere of calm. “You’ve always been a worrier, yes, you know it’s true. You must trust me in this—nothing can or will stop this project. You know that as well as I, my darling.”
It was on that last, unexpected, word that Karen finally pushed the door open and repeated, “Sorry to bother you,” several times.
The researchers turned as one. “Karen, good to see you. Please, come in.” Ian Vance calmly walked forward to greet her just as Leena Rebani, who’d been standing next to Vance mere seconds earlier, stepped away and slid behind the large free-form desk. Karen thought she detected a trace of embarrassment in Leena’s quickly composed face, but Vance’s amber eyes were as cool as ever.
“I’m sorry, should have knocked.” Karen cursed the heat rising in her face.
“It’s not a problem,” Vance said. “Was there something you wanted?”
Karen nodded and launched into her carefully rehearsed speech. As she outlined her need for a night off she allowed her gaze to flit about the room. The contrast between this office and the stark industrial design of the rest of the Indigo Building was astonishing. Vance’s office exuded an air of expensive simplicity and understated elegance, its blonde-wood cabinets and shelves as sleek and tightly fitted as the cabin of a yacht. The only decorative items in the office were a photo of a woman and two children—Vance’s family, she assumed—and a large photograph that dominated one wall. At first glance the photo appeared to be merely a composition of white against dark, but as Karen looked closer she recognized the image of an expansive radio telescope array.
Ian Vance smiled. “Ah, the photograph. Leave it to an artist to focus on that. That’s my wife’s work. Pandora O’Drury? I see you recognize the name, but of course you would. It’s the Very Large Array in New Mexico. Radio telescopes—you can see it if you know it’s there. Dora captured it dramatically, don’t you think?”
“It’s intriguing,” Karen admitted. “I thought it was an abstract at first.”
“That’s why I like it so much. It’s much more than it first appears. You can look at it from various angles and see many things. Anyway, to answer your request, I think we can spare you for one night, Karen. I certa
inly wouldn’t want to be the cause of your failure to graduate. Not something the university would smile upon, as you can imagine.”
“Thank you. I’m truly sorry if I interrupted your discussion …”
“Not at all,” Rebani said with a tight smile. “We have no secrets, do we, Dr. Vance?”
“Not a one,” Vance answered smoothly. “By the way, Karen, I thought I might introduce you to my wife someday. I’m sure she’d be delighted to meet a fellow artist.”
“That’s very kind of you.” Karen’s stomach clenched. More than kind, it would be a miracle. “I’m not really in her league, but of course I’d love to meet her.”
Leena Rebani was eyeing Karen with an expression she couldn’t quite place—something between irritation and fascination.
Early on, Val had been the students’ source of information on Rebani. “Her specialization is computer and human brain interaction studies or something,” Val had explained. “Way above my head—yeah, go ahead and smirk, Lee. Anyway, Rebani took a seminar with Vance while finishing her doctorate and decided to work in the program. Some people say Vance was the attraction rather than the work, but I’m not sure I buy that. He was already married by then, so I don’t think anything was going on there. I mean, he certainly seems immune to any outside attractions, even now.”
With this information in mind, Karen took another look at the lovely senior researcher, wondering if Rebani did harbor a secret love for Ian Vance. It would explain her uncharacteristic lack of composure. Karen shook her head and decided not to share this suspicion with the other students. Now that Val had abandoned her flirtatious assault on Vance—and Alex Wythe, a more important factor—Karen had no desire to reignite the redhead’s efforts at seduction.
“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Vance said. “Perhaps Dora would be interested in your show. I’ll let her know the time and date.” His gaze seemed to pass over Karen like an x-ray, exposing everything hidden.
“That’s very kind, but of course I don’t expect her to drop by a student show.” A quiver vibrated through Karen’s body. She decided being the object of Ian Vance’s razor-blade focus was not a desirable situation, no matter the context.