Chapter Two #3
“Armando told me he doesn’t get this feeling,” she said. That was another commando she had to see soon.
“Agent Chang says he’s probably had more intimate partners than you in the past two years,” Dr. Kirkland pointed out.
Oh, that was just great. Her love life was the subject of conversation among them all. “Armando talked to you about me?”
“But of course. He’s the only other operative who has tried the new serum, Helen.
When I asked him for information that I could use to help your condition, he offered that insight.
It makes sense. Messing with the brain can bring out the oddest effects and your needing sexual gratification is perhaps, for lack of a better word, a blessing. ”
“A blessing?” Helen asked incredulously. She leaned forward, resting her hands on the desk. The acrylic surface felt cool against her heated skin. She wanted to put her forehead down. “A blessing?”
Dr. Kirkland nodded. “It could be worse. Armando becomes blind from headaches after using the serum.”
“Oh.”
Put that way, her condition certainly didn’t sound so serious. Why hadn’t Armando just told her that? He’d made it sound like some kind of unworldly experience, the way he called it the “reckoning”.
“We keep test results a secret because that’s part of being an experiment.” Dr. Kirkland unerringly read her mind. “Everything has to be done with a clean slate each time, so that every cause and effect are separate from the previous experiment.”
“I know. It’s just that I think there’s more to it than chemical imbalance.
This...” Helen waved her hand impatiently.
“This is sensory overload. I feel out of control. If I rub a bar of soap while taking a shower, it becomes...Doc, it becomes embarrassing, okay? I forget that I’m taking a bath because my mind is on the feel of the soap suds and... ”
She shrugged. No need to go into more details. She knew Dr. Kirkland wouldn’t laugh or make fun of her. He was a doctor, so she was just a lab rat in his eyes, but she didn’t feel like being told all she needed was sex, either.
“In every experiment, it comes down to the subject and all the things he or she has gone through and are going through in his or her daily life,” he said quietly.
“Control is an important part of your make-up, Helen. Loss of it is bound to affect you more psychologically. Remember too, that your brainwaves are being manipulated whenever you sleep here. We’re syncing your sleep stages with that of your monitor with the theory that it’d help your remote viewing in virtual reality.
That’s the experiment we’re monitoring, but obviously, your brain’s doing other things as well that’s not part of this experiment. ”
Like having sexual dreams that belonged to her monitor. She didn’t want to go there. Dr. K would start asking her for details and the way even thinking about anything sensual was affecting her, she dared not imagine what talking about it in detail would do.
“Is there something that can be done to lessen the sensitivity?” she asked.
“I don’t recommend any more drugs at this point,” he replied. “It’ll confuse your system even more.”
Helen sighed. “I was afraid you might say that.”
“You need to be examined,” Dr. Kirkland said gently.
She shook her head. “Not now.”
“It can be by a female physician, if you’re uncomfortable. But actually, I think you already know the solution.”
“I do?” she asked, startled.
Dr. Kirkland nodded. “Tell me, Helen, how bad was your condition before you left COMCEN for your downtime? You were wandering around for a long while before you finally went to bed. And then, when you finally let me examine you in the morning, you were able to walk without pain and that sensitivity had subsided. Whatever you did that night quelled your condition temporarily. It’s a temporary solution until we figure out another way. ”
Sex. A whole night of raw sex. Helen cleared her throat.
“That’s why I want to see Jed McNeil,” she said, avoiding a direct answer.
She met Dr. Kirkland’s eyes squarely, trying not to look embarrassed that the doctor might have guessed what happened the other night.
“I have something to ask him. Since you can’t tell me, I’m going straight to the source. ”
“Do you think he’s the source?”
“Did you give him my message?”
Dr. Kirkland nodded. “I passed it on. Once he gets the message, he’ll be expecting you, but it isn’t easy getting hold of Agent McNeil. He’s a busy man.”
Interesting. When she’d bumped into him just now, he hadn’t mentioned anything about getting a message. In fact, he’d made her ask him personally. Bastard.
“Maybe he can schedule a fifteen-minute break,” Helen retorted.
“You know, I’m now part of their group and I still don’t know the protocol in getting hold of them or how we meet or how to call any of them!
Isn’t there a set of numbers I can punch into an intercom?
Or am I just someone they pull out whenever they need a remote viewer? ”
“It’s only been a few days since you passed the test, Helen. You’ve barely been doing anything but training before that. Give yourself the downtime your body’s asking and then you can concentrate on your new role.”
Helen sighed. “You’re right and I’m sorry I vented on you. But if I don’t get pissed off, I get turned on. Sorry, Doc, too much information there.”
Dr. Kirkland smiled. “The more you give me, the more I can help. For example, the anger comes from frustration, and the frustration comes from the fact that you aren’t getting enough of what your brain’s telling your body it needs. It’s a vicious circle, Helen.”
Hell was all for venting her frustration. And she was going to make him admit to her that he was her monitor.
“I want a session in the Cave,” she said suddenly. Jed said he had three consecutive meetings today, didn’t he? “Can you schedule one today, Dr. Kirkland? Like, as soon as possible.”
He’d been testing her, pushing her. It was time to push back.
SECRET CIA TESTING Facility, Virginia
He was feeling a lot better but purposely kept his eyes unfocused, staring at nothing. Listen in. See what was going on. Mourn. He needed time to mourn. All those memories, stolen in seconds.
“He’s been going through downtime a while now. What’s wrong with him?”
“Standard. We’ve never given him two doses one after another before, so that’s to be expected. He did better than any of the other and he seems to be coming out of it slowly.”
“At least he isn’t drooling. That’s a good sign.”
Fuckers. They used him to track down another remote viewer and didn’t warn him that she was different.
He had no proof but somehow, she’d snatched all his precious stock of memories, every single one, when he slammed through her during her remote-viewing session.
He’d never heard of such a thing before, but it only made sense that if he’d found a way to capture other people’s emotional memories, then some other remote viewer could have found a way to remove another remote viewer’s own private stash.
It made fucking perfect sense—why hadn’t he thought about that possibility before?
He could have maybe avoided the damn bitch.
“When do you think we can send him out again? We need to know whether they’re on to us.”
“We’ll give him a couple more hours’ rest. Then we’ll have to use him sparingly for a while.”
“Why? Push him, I say. We have many more to replace him if he burns out.”
“You’re right about that, of course, but this one’s been able to stay with it successfully the last few times, so he appears to be able to control the serum’s side effects. I want to use him carefully so we can get some good use out of him. He did find the location of the encryption key.”
“What good is that? We didn’t get it before they did. In fact, he almost got us caught, remember, screaming aloud like that in the van.”
“He was in pain, Stevens. Some kind of psychic attack.”
The other man snorted. “Sometimes I think you’re too into this. Psychic attack.” He snorted again.
Of the two men in charge of his session, he couldn’t stand this one the most. He had obviously never been part of any remote-viewing program before, or he’d be more sensitive regarding subjects such as psychic phenomena and mental blocks.
Every time he’d had some kind of problem, he’d noticed the same disbelieving attitude, as if his problem was just an inconvenience.
“Tell me what you need, Agent 51. It’s your downtime. Would you like some coffee? Maybe a cola?”
It’s not 51; it’s Jonah Samson! he wanted to shout at them. He was so tired of being just a number to them. Even his chart at the end of his bed said Number 51. The white coats referred to him as 51. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t heard anyone calling him Jonah for a while now.
But that wasn’t important. What was important was working with them so he could get more of the juice. He had to be smart.
“Cigarettes,” he said. “Can you get me some?”
“Of course.”
“Do you need me to write a report?” That was the standard operating procedure in the old days, when he was in training. But these guys seemed more interested in action than reports.
“No, this is a top secret case, no report’s needed at this moment.”
Just as he thought. An agenda inside the CIA. He didn’t care. He just wanted access to the serum.
He felt empty inside.
He needed these fuckers as much as they needed him. Maybe more. They had the supply of the serum, the only thing more important than his lost “recordings”. Without it, there would be no more emotional memories to record. So he needed to play nice for a while yet. He would be free of them one day.