Simon grinned. “Work ‘em out soon. Before he gets out of control.”
* * * *
“You can't do it, Hylton. That kind of outbreak is usually handled by the Disease Centre.”
“So—get them involved. The problem's lethal enough to deserve some of their attention. Maybe you'll have more luck than I did. They can't see the relevance of testing for a plant virus. According to them, Denaro's gone, and all known vectors have recovered, and are presently non-infectious.”
“So, what's the problem?”
“FOCUS is one of them. Denaro's not gone. Her organs—virus and all—are frozen in their facility, except the ovaries, which they've transported down to Canuga.”
Wallington shrugged. “Your report said she was treated with Lockmann's blood before she died. Wouldn't that be enough to get rid of the virus? What I don't get is why the hell FOCUS is moving her corpse without permission.”
“Damned if I know, and FOCUS isn't talking. They nearly killed Lockmann in one of their attempts to ‘procure’ him. Our specialists think Denaro's corpse still has a high titre of virus. As for FOCUS, there's a good chance they had money sunk into Denaro's research, and they want to recoup some of their investment. It sounds like they want to work it from both directions: infection, and antiserum.”
“They probably want a look at Lockmann's genome, too.” Harry Wallington frowned. “Do they know about the plant infection angle?”
“Not yet. What I'm concerned about is—if they do find out—they'll try to use it. There's no cure for this, Harry. The antiserum from Lockmann's blood offers only temporary immunity, and the few people who've recovered can't supply the kind of protection we'll need if something like this gets loose.”
“Let Lockmann run his tests, but if there is a problem with plant infection, then it gets turned over to the Disease Centre.”
Steven's smiled with grim humour. “I've seen this stuff in action. If there is a problem, I'm tossing out my pot plants, filling my yard with concrete, and moving to the south end of the Arctic circle.”
* * * *
Sheryl was waiting for him in his impromptu office when he got back.
“Who let you in here?” he grumbled.
“Have you forgotten where you are?” she countered. “This is my hospital. I decide where I go and what I do. Besides—you're hardly the one to talk about going places where you're not wanted.”
“So, what do you want?”
“I want to talk to you about Rick.”
“No.”
“Do you enjoy playing ignorant, intolerant tyrant, or does it come naturally?”
“Get out—”
She stood up and slammed her good fist on the desk. It jarred her other shoulder, and she flinched, but she didn't say anything. At least, she had his attention. “You're so damn scared of what he can do that you won't even find out more about it.”
“There're enough people out there trying to find out what he ‘can do’. That's why this happened.”
“I'm not talking about the other spies or whatever-they-are. You're terrified of the man because you don't understand what's happened to him. Why don't you try to find out? Do some research on out-of-body experiences. It's a daily practice in some cultures.”
He was silent, and she sank wearily into a chair. At least he was thinking about it—that was a good sign.
“I'll look into it,” he said brusquely. “Now, go.”
“No,” she said. “I'll leave when I'm ready.”
His eyes went quickly to her face. She was as white as a sheet. He walked around the desk and squatted down at her side. “Used it up, didn't you?” There was a trace of amusement in his voice.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the chair. “Just about.”
“That's what I thought. Can you stand up?”
“I'd rather not,” she whispered.
He went to the door. “Dave? Get a wheelchair in here, and tell them to warm Dr. Matthews’ bed up for her.”
“They already gave it to someone else, you fool,” she said.
“No, they didn't. I knew you'd be needing it, sooner or later. Stratton told me just to give him the word, and he'd have a hot water bottle ready for your feet.”
“Steven?” He squatted down close to her again, and rested his hand on her thigh. “I like your warmth a whole lot better.”
“Good,” he said. “I'll take over as soon as you're finished here. But you're not leaving until Stratton gives the okay.”
“I just need a little rest. Then, I'll—”
“I'll put you under arrest,” he interrupted smoothly.
“Bastard,” she muttered, and placed her hand over his.
“Damn right,” he said.
* * * *
Johnson caught Steven Hylton in the hall. “Kerrington's called an emergency meeting in 105. He'd like you to attend—Sir.” His lips twitched as he fought to keep a straight face.
“Are you here to ‘assist’ me, Mr. Johnson?”
“Wouldn't think of it, Sir. But Kerrington said not to be late.”
Johnson turned and walked quickly away. Steven could hear his laughter ringing in great echoes off the corridor walls.
* * * *
Steven Hylton was glowering when he came into the room. Simon took that as a positive sign—when Hylton's face was expressionless you needed to worry. Annoyance meant he was letting his hair down a little.
It also meant he might be willing to listen.
“You remember Eric Sterner? Cole? Jason?”
“Get to the point, Kerrington.”
“I know. You've got mutant butt to mutilate,” Simon replied calmly. “Eric, here, has come to talk to you about OBEs. Out-of-body experiences.”
Cole snorted. “Thanks for nothing, Simon,” he complained. “I thought this was a spy lecture.”
Eric cleared his throat. “When I was in college, we did a lot of transcendental meditation, yoga—that kind of thing. It was popular, almost like a sport. The ‘in’ thing. Astral projection, OBE's.”
Cole shifted his chair away. “Sicko,” he muttered, grinning. “Why don't you just take your body and project it back to your precinct?” He turned to Hylton. “You just can't trust the police these days. They're as bad as spies.”
“Yeah, Mr. Kung Fu,” Jace said. “Or is it Mr. Hai Karate? A lot of the Eastern religions practice astral projection for discipline, and to focus their minds.”
“How do you know? Besides, my mind's already focused—”
“We're not talking about food,” Simon told him calmly. “Rick might have a problem with it.”
“We already know he has a problem with food,” Cole said impatiently.
“Kerrington—” Hylton said warningly.
“They have to know,” Simon said angrily. “Rick had an incident.”
"Out-of-body?" Jason asked, horrified.
"Jesus!" Cole said. “Rick? Out-of-his-body? You're out of your mind!”
“I warned you—” Hylton was glowering.
“There's nothing to worry about,” Eric told them. “Rick's not the kind of pers—”
"Shut up." Jason spoke with a quiet intensity that cut through the noise. It had just occurred to him that if Rick was subject to this kind of thing, he might well be, too. “What happened, Simon?”
Steven Hylton cleared his throat. “This one's mine.” He hesitated, wondering how much he should reveal.
“They need to know it all, Steven.” Simon met his eyes. “It's important.”
“Lockmann—Rick—has been getting a series of deliveries calculated to trigger some kind of episode.”
“A book on OBE's, with a personal inscription—a letter from his mother with a silver cord, and the word Chakras—”
“What does that mean?” Cole interrupted.
Eric picked up a book, and began to read, “'Chakra is the Hindu word for wheel. It refers to the spiritual, or mystical, centre of the body.’ Occult dictionary,” he
explained.
Cole was shocked. “They actually publish a dictionary of that shit?”
“The other thing Rick got was a bag of leafhoppers, again with a cord and a lock of Denaro's hair.”
Eric looked puzzled. “Why leafhoppers?”
“Vector for WTV,” Jace told him.
“I want to know why they put a cord in everything.”
“The link between body and spirit. I used to see a silvery cord linking me to my body when I did it. A lot of people do.”
“You're just lucky the rest of the DSO isn't here. They'd try to kill you for that last one,” Cole said. “I'm more open-minded than my co-workers.”
Steven forgot himself so much as to groan.
“I knew he'd find a way to throw that in,” Simon told Eric.
“You're DSO now?”
Cole nodded.
Eric shook his head. “Are you out of your mind?” he asked Hylton.
Simon realised that Jason was being unusually quiet. It suddenly occurred to him that Rick might not be the only one who needed to worry about this stuff. It was time to get the conversation back on track. He turned to Steven. “It was Denaro's hair, wasn't it? Rick was right.”
Steven nodded. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Which means that the people who sent it are probably the same people who shot him.”
Cole frowned. “How'd you decide that?”
Simon's eyes met Steven's. “Trust me. The point is, this whole thing's been calculated to see whether Rick would manifest the same abilities Denaro showed.”
“Rick must've been going out of his mind with worry,” Jace said. “No wonder he's suicidal.”
“Rick's not suicidal,” Cole argued. “He's just sick, and that always gets him down in the dumps.”
“Anyway, the last ‘delivery’ was almost lethal.”
Jace glanced at him quickly. “I didn't hear anything about that.”
Simon frowned at Steven. “It's been kept quiet, for obvious reasons. Someone slipped a hallucinogen into Rick's IV. It was enough to trigger an out-of-body experience.”
“What happened?” Cole asked. He couldn't hide the tremor in his voice.
“Lockmann took a little trip to Sheryl Matthews’ house,” Hylton said. “End of story—”
“It wasn't Rick who hurt her—?” Jason didn't want to believe it. The thought horrified him.
“Not ‘end of story’,” said Simon angrily. “Of course, it wasn't Rick. He saved her life. According to Sheryl, he came between her and a killer. Get this, Cole—she said he looked like ball lightning.”
“Ball lightning, huh?” Cole's expression brightened. He still didn't quite believe what they were telling him. “Show-off.”
“He threw the killer out of the room, then watched over her until Steven arrived.”
Something had just occurred to Cole. “How did she know it was him?”
Simon gave a wry grin. “He smiled at her.”
Cole tried to envision ball lightning smiling. He shook his head. “How bizarre.”
“Why did they want to trigger an out-of-body experience in Rick?” Jason asked. “I mean, what's the point?”
It was Steven Hylton who answered him. “To determine whether it's a product of his genes, or the virus. With the amount of physical presence Denaro could generate, it could be used as a means of control. Corporations, governments. Assassins for hire. In and out without triggering alarms. Observation without cameras or recordings.”
“You mean they might use Rick—or Denaro—as a source? To make some kind of elite spy group?” Jace looked disbelieving.
“To provide one more, very effective tool for getting control over certain situations. It's been tried before,” Simon told them.
Hylton looked at him in surprise.
“That's right, Steven: ESP experiments have been going on for years, but it's usually involved telepathy.” Simon lifted a sheath of papers. “I've documented it.”
“There are some experimental computers with cursors that respond to the small electrical differences in thought waves. For paraplegics.” Cole shrugged. “I've been following it in the literature.”
If Hylton had looked surprised before, he now looked absolutely shocked at the last coming from Cole.
Eric Sterner shook his head. “I wish I didn't believe it, but I can't think of any other reason they'd try to do this to him.” He sighed. “Hell—I've seen people robbed and tortured for a hundred dollars. This? If it's true, some people would do anything for that kind of power. Do they know they were successful? It'll make Rick's position worse than ever.”
“Not yet. We caught the only witness—he was lying at the bottom of the stairs.” There was a kind of communal gasp. “Not dead,” Steven told the startled eyes. “Broken arm—from the stairs.” Why am I defending Lockmann? he asked himself. I'm as bad as Sheryl.
“What if Rick turns bad?” Cole asked bluntly. It was the question that had been bothering them all since Simon had started talking about it. It also meant Cole finally believed what they'd been telling him.
Simon frowned. “Leave it to you, Cole.”
For once Cole was deadly serious. “I resent that. I mean, I don't think Rick will, but Denaro wasn't always bad. Otherwise, Rick wouldn't have felt so sorry for her. If it's going to affect him the same way, I want to stop it before it happens. What can we do to help him?”
“I'll field this one,” Eric told Simon. “The point is, you go into an out-of-body experience equipped with your own personality. From what Simon's told me, Denaro got trapped outside her body, and it drove her crazy. Apparently, she wasn't much of a people person at the best of times. Any aversion or persecution she felt was probably magnified by the circumstances. Take that, plus an overdose of egomania, and you've got a psychopath on your hands.”
Simon agreed. “Think about it: locked out of her body, and nobody able to help her.”
“And the bitch turned on the only one who tried. You're right, Sterner,” Cole said. “She was too far gone. No morals, no principles.”
Hylton shook his head in disbelief, and Simon hid his smile. Eventually, you just stopped trying to figure Cole out and accepted him.
Eric went on, “That won't happen with Rick. For one thing, he won't be locked out of his body. He has lots of people to help him. Just because he can summon up more ‘physical presence’ that people customarily do, doesn't mean he'll act any different than he usually does.” He looked at Cole. “You've been working out. Just because you have more physical strength now, does that mean you're going to use it in the wrong way? Well, Rick won't either. Think of this as just another manifestation of the same Rick you know.”
Cole nodded. “Rick said Denaro had just about given up. You can excuse a lot of wrongdoing if you don't have a hope in hell any more.”
“Or a hope of hell,” Jace said quietly. “No heaven, no hell. Just a lot of nothingness.” All eyes were on him now, and he frowned. “Just extrapolating,” he muttered.
Cole was beginning to feel more confident. “You're right, Sterner,” he said. “Rick's just not that type of personality. He'd be the last one to turn on somebody else.” He saw Hylton's mouth start to open, and cut in quickly with, “Except in self-defence.”
“Which brings us to the next problem.”
“I hate it when you do this, Simon,” Cole complained. “What now? If you tell me he's sucking people's blood or hanging from ceilings I'm going to punch your face in.”
Simon ignored him. “I talked to Phil.”
“Nice to know you can keep a low profile, Kerrington,” Steven said sarcastically.
“He doesn't think Rick knows what happened to him.”
“Of course he doesn't,” Jason said. “It'd be the last straw. He'd never be able to take the final comparison to Denaro.”
“So that's why you're telling all of us, Simon? To keep it quiet?” Cole asked. “Brilliant.”
“'Final’?” Steven asked.
/> “Just ignore him,” Cole said. “He's babbling. Nothing to worry about.”
“Phil said that if Rick knew, the ‘kill-on-sight’ order—” he turned to look coolly at Steven, “—that Mr. Hylton's put on his head would be a waste of time. Because Rick would already be dead.”
“You malicious bastard.” Cole's hands were bunched in fists. “It's creeps like you who turn people like Denaro into monsters.”
“You want to take me on, Calloway?” Steven asked.
Simon interrupted. “No—but we do.” Steven Hylton watched as the rest of his DSO people pushed in through the door.
He frowned. There must be only a skeleton crew guarding Lockmann.
“As of now—until you remove the ‘kill-on-sight’ order for Lockmann—we're on strike.” Simon smiled coolly. “Industrial action.”
“I'm not endangering any more of my staff,” Steven told him. “Do they know what it's about?”
David Geraldo spoke up. “We heard the entire thing, Sir. Loud and clear.” He dangled the receiver so Hylton could see it.
Everyone else was silent, wondering how Hylton would react. There was a chance he'd fire them all, on the spot.
Only Cole seemed unaware of the tension. “You bugged the room, Simon?” Cole's voice was filled with admiration. “That was brilliant!”
Into the dead silence that followed his comment came a snort. And then another. Eric Sterner couldn't help it—he hadn't had this good a time since the night he'd gone to rescue Lockmann. Once he started laughing he just couldn't stop.
“I think he's doing that asthma thing again, Jace,” Cole said.
Hylton couldn't stand it any more. He rumbled, then choked, then burst out into great guffaws of laughter. He was still laughing fifteen minutes later, when he took Eric Sterner up to visit Richard Lockmann.
Chapter Seventeen
Rick was sitting quietly in a chair when they came in. It told Steven more than anything else how slowly Rick was healing this time. The last time he'd seen him it had been at Rick's request, and Rick had been active enough to be convincing. This time they'd taken him by surprise.
Rick glanced up as they came in. Steven, Phil, and Eric. A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Good to see you, Eric.”
Light Plays: Book Two of The Light Play Trilogy Page 26