by Thomas Locke
“Probably not a good idea.”
“So . . . do you know how to dance around the secret?”
“I think so.”
“Because I need them to trust me.”
“Yes. You do.”
She glanced down at his sandwich. “That smells great.”
“I can make more.”
“Later. Right now I need you to address the troops.”
Lena found the situation unsettling. Not in a bad way. Just disconcerting. She felt the same as she had that first night in Denver. People were relying on her. And she was relying on a voice from beyond.
Only this time there were differences. For one thing, Lena was seated next to a man who not only accepted her events as real but actually had a name for them. According to Brett, she had been contacted by her temporal self. Brett had not shared in such an experience. But he’d had events of his own. Many of them. And he had helped others have their own events. Lena knew she was going to give these ascents of his a try. It was only a matter of time. But right now she had to focus on getting through the next few hours.
Even so, she remained very unsettled. Not because of the project, not really, though there was a multitude of issues they had to work through. She had previously acquired a trio of companies. She was ready to face the challenge of doing it again. What she had trouble with was the man beside her. The threat he represented. Of growing old with a heart rendered useless by sorrow and empty longing.
“My field is neurobiology,” Brett began. “These days, the discipline is dominated by numbers. These numbers come in three main flavors. First are the statistics, literally tons of data from experiments and measured results. Next is the interpretation of these results, which increasingly focuses on quantum mechanics, which is all about mathematics. And then there is funding. Defining your research in dollar terms and explaining how the outcome justifies the investment.”
They were seated in four swivel chairs. Robin and Chester had half-finished mugs of coffee. The polished table separating them reflected the afternoon sun directly into Robin’s eyes, so Lena slid down the two shades. She liked how Brett addressed them. He used the same manner as in the Columbia University classroom. His tone suggested that here was a man who knew his subject backward and forward. They could rely on his knowledge. They could trust him.
It didn’t hurt that the man was easy on the eyes. Dangerously so.
“There is a warning we give to every new postgrad that goes like this,” Brent went on. “Sometimes you have to ignore the numbers to see the obvious. It’s a forest-and-trees situation. That’s what we have here. We need to set your analysis aside.”
“Everything we said was correct,” Chester replied.
“Absolutely on the money,” Brett said. “And it was crucial. Because we all needed to understand the obstacle. The reasons why nobody else ever moved on this deal.”
“Five deaths,” Robin said. “A bankrupt inventor. Public disgrace. Horrible publicity.”
“All the reasons why everybody else has turned away,” Brett agreed. “This project for all intents and purposes is not just dead. It’s radioactive.”
Lena watched Robin’s and Chester’s tension ease a notch. They accepted that Brett was not here to condemn their work.
The jet engines rumbled softly, the wind whispered. Finally Robin asked, “What did we miss?”
“I have no idea,” Brett replied. “I can only make two observations. First, whatever it is, the missing key is so well hidden that no one else has managed to find it.”
Chester asked, “And the second thing?”
Brett turned his chair slightly. Looked at Lena. And waited.
She spoke for the first time since sitting down. “This is an important project. And we’re going to make it happen.”
Chester sighed. “I totally don’t get it.”
Brett went on, “Forget the numbers. Throw out all the normal rules of risk analysis. From now on, we’re taking a different track.”
Robin’s gaze reflected a growing awareness. “Because of Lena.”
“Correct. We’re going to trust that she has sensed another winner. She has managed to climb up and look over the barrier that has stopped everybody else in their tracks. Our job is to identify the hidden elements and then piece them together.”
Chester said, “But how?”
Brett said, “Let’s lay out what we know and look at it all fresh. Only this time we’re already convinced. We don’t need to sell this. We don’t need to worry about our jobs or what anyone else thinks. Up ahead in Savannah, there’s a deal waiting for us to put together. It’s a good one. Our job is to find out why it’s good.”
“And who covered it up,” Robin said.
“And what they didn’t want us to discover,” Lena said.
Chester looked from one to the other. “You guys are nuts.” But he smiled as he spoke.
29
When Reese entered the monitoring station, Karla Brusius, her longtime aide and technical specialist, was seated before the long desk. Karla’s hands rested easy on the controls, her oversized glasses slipping down her nose as she concentrated on the monitors. When she spotted Reese standing to her right, she said in greeting, “We are ready to go.” Like it had been a couple of hours since their last mission. Instead of the longest and hardest fourteen months of Reese’s life.
“It’s good to see you,” Reese said, slipping into the seat beside her.
“Kevin said he was going to try to bring you in,” Karla said. “I’m glad he succeeded.”
“Tell me what we’ve got to work with.”
“The voyagers’ readouts are individual now,” Karla said, indicating the first row of screens on the wall directly in front of them.
“Because of the neural nets,” Reese said, recalling Kevin’s description.
“Correct. Each neural net has eleven microchips set at crucial points around the skull. These are calibrated so as to have maximum impact on the individual voyager’s brain-wave patterns. The wave patterns identified as background noise—random thoughts and emotions—are all dampened. Those patterns identified as alpha, or related to heightened awareness and hyper-calm states, are magnified. The differences are too subtle to notice at first. Everything is computerized. There is a Cray operating behind this wall, handling the frequencies.”
“I like this term voyager.”
Karla nodded. “It seemed good to use a new term for this new method.”
“How many voyagers can we work?”
“The most we have tried so far is sixteen. But I am sure we can do more.”
“Can we handle more than one team at the same time?”
“Of course. Because the readouts are individually calibrated, we can split the teams however you like.” Karla glanced over. “It’s good Kevin brought you in. There have been . . . problems.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Reese rose from the chair. “To make all the problems go away.”
As Reese left the monitoring station, she tore the Keep Out sign off the door. The Velcro strips formed an empty black frame. She crossed the hall, signaling to the group still clustered by the coffee station. “Let’s get started.”
She waited until they had all entered, then dumped the sign in the wastebasket. “Anybody who wants to join us in the monitoring station during your free time, fine. My team is my team. Now take your positions.”
Carl lifted his neural net. The cables dangled from his hand like rainbow worms. “I don’t know . . .”
Reese lifted her chin and spoke to the ceiling. “Karla, you monitoring?”
A voice from the ceiling speakers said, “Of course.”
“Come give us a hand.” When Karla appeared, Reese went on, “Position Ridley and Carl together in the back right corner.”
There were three rows of eight chairs each, twenty-four leather reclining dentist chairs. Each had an overhanging swivel arm attached to monitors and cable leads. Reese watched as the rest of
her team slipped into their preferred spots, plugged in their neural nets, seated themselves, fitted the nets over their hair, and waited. Heather, the glassy-eyed blonde, took up a loner’s position in the back left.
“Everyone has read the file on today’s target, correct?” She got nods from most, though Heather turned to the side wall and sighed in mock boredom. “How have you handled probes like this in the past?”
There was a moment’s silence, then one of the women said, “Two teams of four. First go, we scout the entire group. The monitor tells us to hunt for a weakness.”
“That sounds solid,” Reese said. There was no need to ask why Heather was not included.
She walked to the back row and waited until Karla had finished wiring in Carl’s net. She did not try to hide her words. This was not about secrecy. Not yet. Clandestine actions would come later. She addressed both Carl and Ridley. “Remember what I said. You go out, you hang back, you watch. You don’t take Carl any further than is comfortable for him.”
When she received nods from them both, she walked back to the front and said, “Your first task is to go out safe and return the same way. Any danger, anything that unsettles, you turn back.” She gave that a beat, then continued, “It may look like the same gig as yesterday. But that’s just on the surface. Down deep where it counts, this is a whole new day.”
Reese grabbed herself a cup of coffee as she crossed the lobby, then poured a second one for Karla. Her assistant had always taken hers with four brown sugars and a dollop of heavy cream. Reese had met inmates who replaced their drug of choice with such mixtures of fat and sweet. Reese had never thought about this before. She wondered if Karla was fighting her own secret cravings.
She passed by a trio of voyagers clustered by the monitoring station doorway. “From now on, this door is always open. You come, you go, it’s your choice.”
One said, “There isn’t anywhere for us to sit.”
“Good point. We’ll change that later.” Reese settled into the chair beside Karla and set her coffee on the station beside the open file. “We ready to go?”
“Green across the board.” She sipped her coffee and smiled. “You remembered.”
Reese took a long look around the boards and monitors and screens blanketing the front wall. Most was familiar, only far more detailed. “Tell me what’s changed.”
“The voyage is almost instantaneous, if they want to go at all.” Karla used her cup to point out the heart rate monitors, which blipped along in red pulses. “They’re all scared. Rates are higher, partly because of you and all the shifts you’re making to their routine.”
“And the other reason is . . .” Reese nodded when Karla’s only response was to point at the monitor showing Heather’s face. “Will the fear factor impact their ability to take off?”
“I told you. If they want to go, they go.”
“So how do we manage the voyage?”
“We count them down. Otherwise Kevin told me to hold to the routine. Only accelerated. Five-four-three-two-one, go.”
“You count them down.” Reese mulled that over and decided she liked the change. It fit their purpose. Especially the pair she had just put together. “The two at the back are on their own separate channel, right?”
“The regular team is on com link one, your pair on two.”
“What about Heather?”
A tremor rocked Karla’s entire body, tight but visible. Coffee sloshed unnoticed over her hand. “She is linked in with team one. You didn’t say you wanted her separated.”
“Leave her exactly where she is.”
“Heather scares me.”
Reese sipped her coffee and nodded. “I understand.”
“They all do. Her group, I mean.”
“Probably a good thing.” She had questions, but stowed them for later. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
30
Reese said into her mike, “Your target is a company called Kray Armor. You will begin your voyage. I will direct you with a question. The question is this: Where is their weakness? What lever can be used against the company? You will search only so far as you can and remain in total safety. You will be in complete control at all times. You have ten minutes.”
Karla reached over, coded off Reese’s mike, and whispered, “Kevin gives them twenty.”
Reese thumbed the mike back on and repeated, “Ten minutes. We will do several quicker voyages today. The first is what we call a recce. You go, you check out the terrain, you return. Following this, we will assign specific targets.” She pointed to Karla, who placed her hand on the main control. “I am starting the voyage now. Five, four, three, two, one. Go. You have ten minutes starting now.”
Karla scanned the monitors, said, “All are in the green.”
“I’m starting with team two.” Reese tabbed the com link over and said to the pair at the back, “All right. Here we go. Carl, you are playing tagalong. Ridley, you monitor the others and you keep Carl safe. Thumbs-up from you both to show you understand. Good.” Reese sharpened her voice to the same military precision she used with team one. She gave them similar instructions, only the pair were held to an eight-minute voyage. Then she pointed to Karla and counted them up.
Then there was nothing to do but wait. Reese sipped her coffee, and in the act of setting it back on the counter, she realized what was happening behind her.
Over a dozen people were clustered by the monitoring station’s rear wall. Most if not all of the off-duty teams, observing her with tense, fearful gazes.
Reese asked them, “What is going on here?”
No one spoke until Karla said, “Coming up on eight.”
Reese swiveled back around, only to see the same mix of tension and dread on Karla’s face. Her assistant said, “Twenty seconds.”
Reese asked, “Can I speak with both teams together?”
“Com link three.”
She keyed the mike and said, “I am beginning the count to end your voyage. I am counting now. One, two, three, four, five. You are back, you are safe. Welcome home.”
All the monitors showed normal levels of conscious activity. The brain waves spiked, the heart and breathing lines accelerated within standard limits. There was nothing on any of the screens to indicate a reason for the tension that Reese could now almost taste.
Karla’s swallow was audible. “All are back.”
“Stay here. I’ll check with them on results, then we’ll go again.”
There were so many people lining the back wall they pressed in on each other. As Reese approached the doorway, they shifted away from her and the exit, just like they had from Heather.
Reese left the monitoring station, crossed the lobby area, and entered the departures chamber. She liked the new term. Voyagers carried a sense of adventure. These were travelers who ventured into new terrain. They deserved a strong title, just like they deserved to be rewarded. They deserved . . .
Her forward momentum carried her two paces inside the chamber. But with that first look, her brain froze solid.
The voyagers remained in their seats. They stared back at the station by the left wall. All of them watched as Heather rose to her feet.
Only it was not Heather.
Reese could not say how she knew this. Even so, she was absolutely certain. At the level of bone and sinew, she knew. Some ancient awareness had been triggered, some genetic recognition she carried from the epoch of cave dwellings and medicine men and monsters cast in nighttime shadows. Heather was gone. In her place was something else.
The beast wearing Heather’s skin arched her back, the muscles on her neck standing out like steel cords. She opened and closed her mouth several times, an almost reptilian move. Tasting the air. Savoring this glimpse into a world filled with prey.
And that was precisely how the beast eyed the others. The lips peeled back and the teeth clicked twice. Snap-snap, very quick, hungry and alert. The predator was in the open now. Sizing up which quarry to take down first.
/> Reese was not fully aware of moving. Only that her view of this beast shifted. Drew closer. She stationed herself between the beast and her team.
Her team.
The beast was clearly unused to human eyesight. The eyes did not track together. The voice was the most un-Heather component of her, a lyrical chant laced by an accent from some distant epoch. “Are you coming to join us too?”
“You are not welcome here.”
The sense of facing a reptile grew stronger still, as the beast twisted its neck, the jaw fashioning a slow curve as the tongue darted out once, twice, a third time. The chant carried the rattle of leaves over an open grave. “But we would welcome you.”
“Go and do not return.”
A smile flickered in and out, fast as the darting tongue. “Shall I eat some of your precious others? Will you behave then?”
“Show up here again,” Reese said, “and I will personally murder this woman and her entire team.”
The neck arched again, the throat rasped, and only later did Reese realize that the beast had actually laughed. Then Heather gave a massive shudder, like she was being pulled apart at the seams.
And she was back. Just like that. The brittle smile, the dead eyes, the shellacked hair, all of it came together again and reformed into the woman.
Heather smiled at all of the petrified forms and said, “Isn’t this fun?”
Reese took a moment to prepare her next move. Heather assumed the silence was due to fear and preened for the watchers. Reese stifled an urge to rip her apart. She took a steadying breath, then said calmly, “Everybody get ready for a second go. Same as the first, general observations only.” She looked over at Ridley and Carl. “Everything okay?”
“He did good,” Ridley replied.
“We’ll debrief after round two. We voyage in ten minutes.”
But as she left the departures lounge, a woman by the door said softly, “What you said to the monster, it won’t make any difference.”
Reese gestured for the woman to accompany her. When they were away from the others, Reese asked, “Does this happen every time? Not just with Heather, but the others, do they also . . .”