Читать книгу Virtually His - Gennita Low, Gennita Low - Страница 11

Philosophy class was an odd course for them to inflict on her. After all, thinking too deeply would affect action. Analysis paralysis, that was one of her Special Ops. trainer’s favorite sayings.

“You start thinking about how dark it is in there, you’ve already lost half the battle, Roston,” he’d said, during one session when she had to belly-crawl into a pitch-black tunnel. “There’s active anticipation of danger and there’s passive anticipation. The second type will get you killed.”

But they insisted on philosophy classes at the Center. Helen hadn’t thought she would enjoy them. She wasn’t particularly interested in logic and reasoning; she reasonably explained to the tutor that if she had any logical brain cells at all, she wouldn’t have signed up for this experiment in the first place. Everyone had laughed at the workshop.

However, the sessions weren’t entirely useless. There was a method to their madness, she supposed. Command Center definitely had a different approach. Analysis, Helen found, was used to paralyze latent emotions, such as fear and anger.

She understood that fear could be a major stumbling block in the coming experiment. It could defeat her. It was important therefore that she learn to shape her fears into something tangible so she could overcome them.

Helen was getting so damn good at pretending, it should scare her. But it didn’t, really. Fear, as they had told her from the beginning, would eventually be under her control.

She applied fresh lipstick in the restroom, and made a face. She’d learned at GEM that reality had many faces. Often, what one saw in front of oneself was just part of the truth. What mattered most was the hidden agenda.

She knew from day one that she was different. She’d sensed the danger behind the reality around the friendly strangers who’d approached her, but food was a powerful tempter to a hungry kid. She had options—accept the food and go with those nice GEM agents or remain alone. Hunger could conquer anything, even fear. And something about the whole thing gnawed at her, so she’d followed them. And here she was.

Unanswered questions. Looking for the unvarnished truth. That was her driving force in life.

Pulling her loose hair into a ponytail, she fluffed the bangs away from her forehead. Her hand wandered on its own to the spot below her earlobe. How did he know she liked to be touched there?

That irritated her. She didn’t mind being psychoanalyzed by their team of head doctors; she was trained in NOPAIN—nonphysical persuasion and innovative negotiation—and she could easily evade questions she didn’t want to answer. She had even grown comfortable with them staring at her through their microeyes; it was in her contract. She had known when she’d agreed to this experiment that her life wasn’t going to be hers again. What was it Enrique always told her? Ya gotta let the big boys think they’re bigger and stronger before you can whoop their ass, Elena. She smiled at the memory of the older punk boy who was her sometime companion. At fifteen, Enrique—a name he’d chosen for himself—was more grown-up than most kids his age. Street wisdom still made a lot of sense in her world.

Her smile turned into a frown. She hadn’t counted on someone knowing little things like her erogenous zones, though. Again she wondered about this trainer behind the avatar. Was he anything like her creation? Did he remote view, too? And if so, how far along was he? Her training hadn’t taken her into some of the higher levels she’d read about—the government was too eager to try her out.

Helen looked at her reflection. She had to admit that letting her create her trainer’s avatar was insidiously clever. Psychologically, she would immediately have an innate response to him already. Maybe it was one of their tricks, to make her assume that it was a man—

Nah. Hades sounded too much like a man. A woman wouldn’t have said those last lines. She closed her eyes, recalled the scene in her mind with the quick vividness that was now so familiar…

Her instincts rose like a radar. Her eyes flew open.

“You know, I thought I smelled your perfume,” she remarked calmly.

“Liar. I don’t have any on today.” T. appeared from one of the stalls.

“Oh? Are you testing me, too?” Helen turned to give her full attention to her operations chief. “Or are you here to tell me who my trainer is?”

T. shrugged. “I don’t know everything.”

“Who’s the liar now?” There was no one higher in her agency here—she had the security clearance.

T. shrugged again, then turned to the mirror. “They’re very secretive here at the Center. Surely you’ve noticed that? I rarely get to talk with anyone other than the commandos I work with, and I’ve been here almost two and a half years.”

“This partnership GEM has with them—is it that great?”

Ever since the news had gone through the grapevine that their contract agency was now working with COS Command, there was rampant gossip that the “partnership” would become a merger, and that GEM’s independence could be history. So far, Helen hadn’t seen any difference in the way her agency worked, but then she had been deep in training and hadn’t had the time to really pay close attention.

Helen studied the tall blond woman who was her operations chief and mentor. Even after all these years, it was still tough to read T.’s emotions. T. was a chameleon, able to project whatever was needed for the situation, and when she was in her element, even Helen’s intuition couldn’t gauge her chief’s real feelings about anything.

But Helen trusted T.’s judgment more than anyone else’s. It was T. who told her she had a special gift, who had always encouraged her to use her special instincts during dangerous situations. It was T. who told her that she had far to go in GEM.

“It’s been highly beneficial,” T. told her. She smiled. “I just love the way we both seem to have our meaningful conversations in the ladies’ room.”

Helen wrinkled her nose and thumbed at the exit. “Out there is the macho man’s world. This Center is full of them. You know it, and I know it. Some of them are sexy as get-out but I don’t trust any of them.”

T.’s smile widened. Her brows arched meaningfully. “Not even your hot trainer?”

Helen let out a sigh. “Why are you trying to use NOPAIN on me? Just ask your damn questions outright, T.”

“Darling, you’ve been delightfully evading and dodging those head doctors all these months. Why can’t I try my hand on you?”

“Because you’re on my side.” Helen cocked her head. “I hope?”

“Yet you don’t want to tell me everything. I’m still your operations chief, Hell, even though you’ve been out of touch lately, what with secretive CIA RV training and disappearing for weeks without debriefing.” T. played with the many rings on her fingers. “They’re playing with your mind, and as a friend, I’m concerned that you might forget this is a contract, not a permanent thing.”

“Ha! How could I forget right now I’m the CIA’s and various government agencies’ favorite toy? I’m the most watched woman in the spy world now, barring a few hundred posters of calendar babes. I’ve been monitored, recorded, prodded and probed. They had me hooked up to devices that measure my pulse and pretty much every body function they could think of. I’m sure they’ve tried every available way to look into my mind while doing those experiments in remote viewing. T., darling, I’m the last person to forget what I’ve become.”

“Which is?”

Helen frowned. Damn. T. got her there. She hated it when T. won in NOPAIN. She shrugged, trying to evade. “I don’t quite know yet. After all, they pulled me out of training as soon as I finished Phase Two, and I’m still miffed about that! I was getting to be quite good at their stupid little tests. Why did they interrupt my remote-view training?”

T. continued turning one of her rings. Her amber-gold eyes were thoughtful as she studied Helen. “Maybe they were trying to keep within the time limit of the contract. Or maybe they didn’t want to lose you. You do know the high cost of the advance stages of the CIA program.”

T. didn’t mean in financial terms. She had been frank about the real dangers when the contract was offered but Helen had been intrigued. Getting a bird’s eye view of so many agencies was an operative’s fantasy. “Yeah,” she said, with another shrug. “The casualties end up in some mental ward and they didn’t want to risk me. Not too soon anyway.”

T. nodded. “You’ve been doing excellently. They’re eager to start with what you can do now. They told me those flashes you have are longer now.”

Helen turned back to the mirror. “I’m not supposed to elaborate too much about the project to anyone.”

“Darling, your state secrets are safe with you. When I want an update, the info I seek is your welfare. However…” T. paused, her eyes narrowing. “I can see I can’t depend on you for that.”

Helen met T.’s eyes in the mirror. Her reflex had been to be defensive because she had to be alert all the time and she knew she’d been doing the same with T. She allowed a part of herself to relax. “I can’t explain what’s happening to me, T.,” she said quietly. “It’s exciting and scary.”

“And it’s going to get more so, with this new phase. Remote viewing plus virtual reality is going to play with your mind even more. That’s why they decided that you needed to be connected with a real mind outside. This virtual reality trainer—he’s your anchor, Hell. You can trust him. You have to allow yourself to depend on him sometimes.”

Helen smiled and turned back around. It was now her turn to trap her operations chief. “Thought you said you didn’t know him?”

T. smiled back and took a few steps closer. “I didn’t say that,” she mocked. “I said I didn’t know everything. I could be talking to him through VR, too, you know. You have him looking like some blond beefcake. I myself prefer James Dean. Bad boys are more my style.”

Damn. Thought she had her. “What? You wouldn’t make him blond like your dear Alex Diamond? What will he say to that?”

The GEM grapevine was rife with gossip of what was happening between their operations chief and one of COS Center’s top commandos. Romance was the word being bandied around. A GEM sister had wittily called it Operation Covert Combustion, and it wasn’t too far from the truth, since T. appeared to be playing a game of total ignorance of a certain commando’s presence at the Center. Helen cocked an enquiring brow.

T.’s face was unrevealing, her gaze shuttered. “I’m sure he gets his fantasies taken care of, darling.”

Helen laughed. She bet. T. was also the master of disguises, a woman of a hundred faces. She could see how she confused her men, even Alex Diamond. She sobered. “I can tell you one thing, chief. Once you’re immersed in this program, you find that there aren’t any fantasies left in your life. Or maybe it’s one big fantasy now. Take your pick.”

She knew T. needed to know this. It was the operations chief’s job to make sure her operatives stayed as safe as possible. Any contract taken up by GEM had dangerous elements and right now, Helen’s was probably way up there on the list. She wanted to keep her chief in the loop as much as she could.

“Tell me how so?”

“Part of remote viewing is projecting imagery. Part of it is fortune telling. After a while you aren’t sure whether you’re doing that all the time unless you’re very strong mentally.” She gave T. a level look. “And I’m very strong. I’m going to get stronger. That’s what all these psychoanalysis and philosophy classes are for, to help me stay grounded.”

T. took one of her rings off and handed it to her. Surprised, Helen turned her palm out. “What’s that for?” T.’s rings weren’t just rings.

“Keep it on. It might be useful later.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“Nope. Trust goes along with it.”

“Ah.” More NOPAIN. Helen watched as T. slipped the ring on for her. “This would mean something entirely different if you had a dick, T.”

T.’s laughter echoed in the tiled room. She stepped back. “Soon you’ll have to convince a bunch of suits with a demonstration. Are you ready?”

Back to business. Helen played with her new ring. “Yes.”

“By the way, you’re spending the night here at the Center.”

“Damn, why?” She was already spending too many nights here lately. She loved being surrounded by lots of color, but colors created natural mental blocks for some reason. “I don’t like their sparse comfort.”

“It makes sense to. You’ll have another VR session before the show. Center wants to make sure everything goes smoothly. That means the more they monitor your brain waves while you sleep, the better.”

They had been doing that the last few months. Helen spent a few nights there every week, sleeping on some kind of bed with enough straps and electronic gear on it to qualify it for an S and M contraption.

“Today’s test run went well—you two connected. You don’t know how much this operation depended on that outcome. Believe me, darling, there were quite a few high fives today. They had actually expected more problems, but from what you described and what they could tell, the synchronization was delayed because of lack of sensory data. Once you’ve gotten used to sharing brain waves, communication will be better. He wants to do it one more time before your big show and tell.”

Helen hid her surprise. T. loved ending their meetings with unexpected news. Provoking emotional reaction was her hobby. “So soon? He misses me already, huh?” She couldn’t help smiling, though, at the memory of what she had added to the avatar. “May I ask why?”

“He wants to talk to you about the coming test.”

“Really? How interesting. He’s concerned about my well-being, too,” Helen said dryly.

T. waved her ringed hand, signaling the end of the meeting, and headed for the exit. “Oh, by the way, he told me to ask you to think about Greek gods and their stories. He said you’d understand. Ciao, Hell.”

Helen frowned at that last comment. That VR trainer obviously loved to play games, just like T. Greek gods. Well, he was probably listening in when she was talking to Derek about her ideal man looking like a Greek god—a blond Greek god with chocolate eyes was what she had ordered. Now it made even more sense why he had picked the name Hades, the Greek god of the Underworld. Recalling that he’d known her nickname, she growled under her breath. She should have named him herself. She could see that he was going to be a challenge. A mischievous smile formed on her lips as she opened the door and sauntered out. A big challenge.

In a secret test facility, Virginia

“Okay, Agent 15, here’s your chance. Your operational status is green. Bilocate to target and tell us what you see.”

“Why is he shaking?”

Stop shaking. Concentrate, or you’ll lose their interest. Deep breath, deep breath…Zoom.

Dark. Dark. Tell them what you see…. “I see it now! Classified meeting. Nine men. Four in uniform, one with enough medals to add several pounds to his weight. Three in civilian suits and ties. Two in lab jackets. They are sitting in a half circle around a conference table, facing a media screen. Conversation is quiet, tense, with some of them shaking hands. Do you want me to go closer and get the conversation?”

“Jesus, I hate how we need to guide them through every step. Don’t they know that by asking them to look at the specific location, they’re supposed to get information? That means see and listen in, Agent 15, do you hear me? We want to know the person in charge of the new candidate.”

I hear you, fuckers. You’re my monitors and I’m remote viewing for you. What the hell do you want?

Zoom.

Random words. Relax. “Okay, I’m going to concentrate on their conversation now. I’ll tell you what I hear when I surface.”

Give them what they want. Come on, Andrew, you can do this. Concentrate on the one with all the medals. Yes, yes, the words are audible now….

The Pentagon

“They don’t have time to send talking heads to negotiate or discuss anything, Colonel. They functioned as a center for covert subversive training and activities, and the less said about what goes on in there, the better. It isn’t in the business to explain itself to anyone, even to the President’s most trusted men. Because of that, it’s a good neutral place to test our candidate.”

“Such as the multilateral test that’s coming up.” The colonel frowned, disapproval on his face.

“Yes. The best candidate just happens to be one of their own, so they’re sure to want a lot of control over the tests. COS Center’s operative won, so they get to set the rules. Some of them, anyway. This is a historic moment, though, don’t you agree? Nine government branches, active and covert, working together for national security?”

The colonel snorted and muttered something rude in connection with Homeland Security under his breath. Audio feed from the speaker interrupted the conversation and the scrambled signal on the video screen cleared. Everyone’s attention turned to the image addressing them.

“We’ve reviewed each of your task forces’ lab and training reports. You were sent a copy of each, and we have agreed that the Center’s test offer is by far the superior candidate of the program. So everyone here is on the same page, we’re going to quickly go through the subject’s profile in the file in front of you. The first page is the medical report from the D.I.A. scientists. The subject’s mental and physical health is stable at ninety percent. Her psychological evaluations prove a strong psyche and system of belief. Her decision-making tests are in the top percentile. The stress chart shows excellent capability in multitasking. Positives—good attentiveness, quick grasp of situations, fearlessness, has been pretrained outside. Negatives—a tendency to independence and secrecy.

“Second are the combined reports from the Special Forces trainers from Year One. Physical endurance is above normal and completion of the one-year training with Special Forces was above average. Subject passed basic and advanced tests.

“Third is acknowledgment from the CIA task force in charge of Project Inner Space from Year Two. Their report is classified Red. Acknowledgment that subject finished Phase Two of Project Inner Space and showed no signs of mental stress or behavioral changes.

“Four is FBI background reports. Subject, as are most operatives in this contract agency, is an orphan. No family history available. No attempt taken to look for natural mother and father. Contract agency will not release information. We see this as a nonissue.

“Here is what the Center will provide at the next stage. We’ll combine—”

Secret test facility, Virginia

No! Zoom!

No, no, please, no! Zoom!

“Dark, dark…oh, no…I can’t hear anything any more, sir. I tried to focus on the screen, to see who’s talking and…it just turned dark. I hear nothing now.” Blast of power. Really, really powerful energy. “I heard him but I couldn’t see…him.”

“Dammit, Agent 15! Zoom in. It’s important to identify him.”

They don’t understand. Too strong. “I tried…Can’t see any more.”

“Do it again, Agent. Zoom in. This is an order.”

“Tried.” Zoom. Dark, totally dark. “Tired. Mental block.”

“You’ll try again or there won’t be another dose, do you understand?”

“Please. I need…something…. Everything’s dark.”

“If it’s a mental block, you know you’d have felt it. Did you see any striking colors? Was there anything different?”

“No.” Don’t want to tell them yet about that odd feeling. Too hard to describe. They’ll start asking harder questions.

“Maybe he’s really used up for us. We should just get rid of him.”

“No, too risky for now. We have some information at least. The new toy is ready for some tests. We just have to find out more.”

“We’re already familiar with all those phases. Hell, we’ve done a majority of them. What is the Center doing that we haven’t tried?”

“Let’s make him look again. Maybe he’ll get something new. Agent 15, do you hear me? We need you to go back in after you write up what you saw.”

“Write? Are you nuts? Look at the drool on the bastard. He’s all washed up. There’s no control over him, even after giving him the remote coordinates. We need another one soon.”

“It isn’t like we don’t have a bunch of potentials in this facility but we have to do this slowly. They’re garbage but their minds aren’t.”

Say something or they’ll put you in that dark place again. No more dosage. No more happiness…say something quick! “Please! Please, please, I need it. Pain. Headache. Please.” Bands of steel tightening. “I need some rest to write the report. I promise…once…headache gone…I’ll look again. I’ll find out everything…. Please.”

“Give him another dose. We don’t have time for you to rest, 15. We know you like floating out there, messing with God knows what—”

Another dose? They’re giving me another dose so quickly? “Oh yes, I can do this with another dose. I’m ready, of course I’m ready.” I’ll stay away from the force this time. I’ll focus in on that voice and find out for them….

Zoom. Zoom. Oh, this is fine. Look at all the pretty lights moving so quickly. I don’t even have to adjust anything and I can still get them in focus! So cool. I don’t even need to hear the monitor’s voice anymore. No need to stay grounded anymore. What the hell for? I can stay out here and play with the lights….

COS COMMAND CENTER (COMCEN)

Kevin Kirkland liked standing where he was, listening in to the conversation that few were privileged to hear. Part of the reason came from knowing that no one from the Pentagon, except the other man in the room, knew that he was here. It put him in a trusted position, and he knew the man talking right now didn’t trust many people. Strangely enough, that was the topic of conversation at the moment.

“If you want her to trust me, then you’ll have to let me handle this my way. Her agency is now merged with mine, and I have more knowledge of GEM operation procedures than anyone in this room.”

The man’s voice was quiet and firm, with an underlying steeliness. From his angle, Kirkland had an excellent view of the wide screen. Four of the men were in uniform. The other five were heads of departments connected to high levels of national security. Their attention ranged from direct interest to skepticism.

“This is a Classified Flux type project. We’ve always monitored every operational target,” one of the men in uniform said. “This will be the first time we’re using an ordinary outside operative and giving her free rein to achieve a mission. You’re the monitor for us. Letting you handle this your way, as you put it, can put every mission in jeopardy.”

“The COS Center is possibly all Classified Flux, and we aren’t monitored in the way the military has to be, sir. I’m part of the V-Program, also a Classified Red project, and the success rate in our missions depended on our autonomy and secrecy. As for Miss Roston, I doubt anyone else would call her an ordinary operative, sir.”

“Aside from her being a woman, she’s still a contract agent, nothing we could count on,” one of the men pointed out.

“She’s from GEM and the operatives from there are highly regarded by every covert agency, national and foreign. COS Center has been working with them the last few years and our partnership has been very successful.

“Part of it is due to our training, but most of it is because of the ability of each operative to make quick decisions during his or her mission. In Miss Roston’s case, it becomes complicated with every agency—CIA, DIA, NSA, INSCOM just to name a few—having trained her and wanting to claim her as their own, if the experiment is a success. There is a danger of information dissemination, of too many cooks spoiling the broth. She’s GEM and therefore, she’s mine. This project belongs to COS.”

There was shocked silence as the men digested the speech.

“You’re saying that you want to make all the major decisions of every operational target, that we’re to listen to you?” The incredulity in the man’s voice echoed the stares of the others around the table.

“Yes. Have a good day, gentlemen.”

The man cut off the satellite feed and turned away from the screen. He punched the intercom on his desk. “Tell Derek to get the room ready.”

Now that the camera was off, Kirkland came forward. He’d listened in often enough to know exactly when to interrupt. He watched as his test patient unbuttoned his shirt with one hand while offering his other arm.

After a few minutes, Kirkland rubbed alcohol and drew blood, then checked his stats. He labeled the tubes, putting them away in a small case. “Same questions—no nicotine, alcohol or caffeine the past twelve hours?”

“No.”

“How’s the stress level today?”

“I haven’t killed anyone today.”

“At least you’re retaining your sense of humor after pissing off some of the most powerful men in our country.”

“It’s relaxing. You ought to try it sometime, Kirkland.”

“To each his own. Of course, I feel quite powerful now knowing that I have more information on what COS Center has been doing with Miss Roston.” The doctor smiled at the direct stare of the man in the chair. “Yes, I understand. That also means I’m potentially in more danger than most people.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you worry they’ll axe you?”

“No.”

“Why, if I may ask?”

A glimmer of humor appeared in the other man’s eyes. “They don’t like working with each other, Kirkland. They hate having things out of their hands. Yet someone more powerful than they are is ordering them to continue this research, year after year. Why?”

Kirkland cleared his throat. The answer was pretty obvious. Everyone wanted their own COS success story. “Because covert and subversive training work?”

The man straightened his elbow and Kirkland placed the Band-Aid over his vein. “The success rate tells the story. And as long as it remains so, they won’t question how we run things here. We pick and choose what we do, and we give them the results.”

“It was nice to see you defending Miss Roston, especially with their remarks about her being a woman. After working with her these past few months, I find her more than just the test subject those people view her.”

“Really?”

“Don’t you like her? You’ve talked to her, seen her up close.”

There was a pause. The man stood up and buttoned his open shirt. “She does have a sense of humor.”

“Especially the way she made you up as in the VR program.”

“Is this relevant for your evaluation?”

“No. But I’m curious about your reaction, that’s all. How does it feel to be seen as something you aren’t?”

The usually serious face of the project monitor cracked a slight smile. “I’m not the one who needs psych evaluation, Doc. She is. I’ve been through enough tests in this lifetime to know what you’re up to.”

The doctor sighed. Closing the file, he tucked it under his arm. “I suppose that’s why you’re the best for this phase. You have the experience to guide her, especially if the serum doesn’t go well with her system.”

“The test dose will tell.”

“The previous tests with soldiers gave the exact results we wanted, although we don’t know the long-term effects. It’ll be doubly important with Miss Roston, who has been subjected to so many programs. She should be a mess, but she’s remarkably stable.”

“Yes, Kirkland, I can tell you like her. I’ll take care to keep her safe.”

Kirkland cleared his throat. He hadn’t wanted to appear too concerned for Miss Roston, but he’d gotten to like the young woman.

The intercom buzzed. “Derek’s ready, sir.”

“Is she asleep?”

“Yes.”

Dr. Kirkland picked up his case. “Shall we go?”

“Wait.”

The man turned on his monitor and flipped channels. Helen Roston’s room at the Center was all gray, just as her test required it to be. But the woman in there wasn’t gray. Even from where Kirkland stood, she emanated a vibrancy all her own. The way she slept, on the right side of the bed, blankets kicked off. The way her features were perfectly composed, a small smile still playing on her lips. The way she was dressed, in a small shirt and underwear. Gray, of course. The way one long naked leg was tucked under the other. Helen Roston obviously didn’t mind being monitored half-naked. Just like him—Kirkland returned his gaze to his patient.

“If I weren’t a doctor, I would feel this is an invasion of privacy,” Kirkland said.

“She signed the agreement. She knows we’ll be watching her when she undergoes sleep training here.”

“She thinks scientists and doctors are. Not you.”

The man glanced at Dr. Kirkland, a brow raised. “She’s a smart woman, Doc. She’s GEM. She has more training than you’ll ever know.” He returned his gaze to the sleeping woman. “She knows I’ve been watching her.”

“She’s even more remarkable then. But that’s good. She needs to trust you, or this isn’t going to work.”

The other man didn’t say anything as he continued looking at the screen. Kirkland didn’t interrupt any more, quietly waiting. He was used to the man staring at the test subject. It was the same intense stare every time, as if he was memorizing every detail of the sleeping woman. Kirkland wasn’t a psychologist; he wasn’t going to make any professional conclusion about that. As a scientist, he found this whole thing quite bizarre, but all experiments at the Center were bizarre.

The man next to him was probably one of the Center’s most successful experiments and at times, Kevin Kirkland wasn’t even sure he was human. His abilities were legendary. Kirkland glanced at the screen, then back at the man. What a pair. Helen stirred, stretched, and then turned the other way, tucking one hand between the bed and one leg.

“I’m ready.”

The elevator took them to a sealed chamber. It was gray, just like the other room. The man stripped without preliminaries and climbed onto the special bed. Kirkland adjusted the straps and the headrest that was similar to the one Helen Roston had in her room.

“You can skip the subliminal message tape.”

Dr. Kirkland paused, trying to hide his surprise. “There is no—”

“Doc. I know when my mind is being fucked with.”

How? Another mystery about the man. “I had orders.”

“I’m not angry. Just skip the subliminal loop. I’m as honest and loyal to the government as I’m ever going to get. You can choose to tell them that or not.”

“I’ll have to tell them that if I change any order of the test.”

The man reached out, caught hold of Dr. Kirkland’s wrist. “I’m no longer a test. She is.”

“You’re part of it,” Kirkland reminded calmly. He sighed. “I won’t put on the subliminal text.”

The man released him and settled back comfortably. “Is she on theta wave yet?”

The doctor read the panel on the brain entrainment machine. The tonal frequencies were specifically designed to merge the brain waves of both right and left sides of the hemisphere. “No. Beta.”

The man closed his eyes. “Don’t get on theta till she’s in REM state.”

“Why do you want her to be dreaming when we hit theta?”

“Just do it, Doc.”

Kirkland nodded and dimmed the lights. His other orders had been to follow the man’s intuition when it came to the tests. This sounded like one of them.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Doc.”

Kirkland punched the code to lock the chamber and took the elevator to the next level. Derek turned around, the audible tones from the two machines in the background.

“We aren’t using the subliminal tape for Chamber B tonight, Derek. And we’re going to wait till Miss Roston hits REM before theta stage.”

“Why, Dr. Kirkland? Are we now monitoring her dreams?”

“No, we have enough on our plate with this operation. We don’t need that.” Yet. He didn’t know. “Adjust the template.”

The monitors only showed the brain waves and breathing patterns of the subjects. The panel registered the vitals and different changes through the sleep session. There was privacy for Miss Roston, even if she didn’t know it. As for the other…that display was top-secret and even Derek didn’t have the clearance to know his identity.

“Alpha wave,” announced Derek.

That man could fall asleep at will. Even after three months of watching it happen, Kirkland was amazed at the man’s total control. He checked Helen Roston’s monitor. She had started Rapid Eye Movement, usually the period when dreams happened.

“Slow down to theta, Derek.”

The doctor opened his case and pulled out the files to make his notations. There was nothing unusual at the slowed-down readings. Over the intercom Helen Roston let out a soft snore and a tiny purr.