Chapter Nine
How bizarre, how bizarre. That phrase from some long ago song popped into Helen’s head. That about summed up the last twenty-four hours.
The familiar tingle that always warned her of imminent danger had disappeared. She trusted that instinct in her; following it had saved her life before. However, this time, nothing had happened. Eight Ball had confirmed that there had been no intruder, nothing out of the ordinary.
The only strange thing linking it all was the man carrying her, Armando Chang.
He’d also sensed something was wrong, she was sure of it, and his strange explanation had caught her attention.
He’d told them he was chasing the Cheshire Cat, something she’d just used in her head in reference to Jed McNeil.
Which brought her thoughts back to the man walking a little ahead of her and Armando. Jed had a headset on, seemingly absorbed in a conversation with Admiral Madison, barely paying attention to the people who stared at them as they passed by their offices and desks.
That was an act, she realized it now. Jed McNeil was the master of multitasking.
He seemed able to hold meetings, reschedule an appointment with an admiral, and make snap decisions about this operation or that operation, all while being interrupted by operatives at the same time.
When one or two stopped him to ask questions, he’d pause and give her one of those looks that made her shiver inside.
And the man could still seduce without words.
“But can he chew gum and whistle?” Armando said softly into her ear.
Helen looked at the man carrying her. “Is mind-reading one of the many COS commando talents?” she asked teasingly.
“A combination of good timing and lucky guessing,” Armando told her, a small smile on his lips.
“Oh yeah, we must put all that good timing and lucky guessing to good use and play the lottery some time,” Helen said, watching as Jed walked a little further ahead of them with de Clerq, who had joined them.
“You’re only given a certain number of opportunities,” Armando said. “If I’d used my limbic talents on the numbers game, then it wouldn’t have directed me to you. So actually, you owe me a meal rather than with McNeil. We have so much more in common than you and he.”
“Is that right?” Helen asked, keeping her eyes on the man ahead, catching phrases here and there.
The dark smoothness of Jed’s voice was strangely soothing and at odds with the commotion that surrounded him.
Armando didn’t seem to care that Jed could listen in if he chose to, even though he was talking to three or four people at the same time.
“Yes, Miss Roston, we do,” he said, his hand under her giving her side a small squeeze.
“Lost in a maze. Unfamiliar feelings. Stranger in a strange land. Speaking in tongues.”
Helen arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re the one speaking in tongues, Armando. Everyone can understand me fine.”
“Do you think blaming everything on the hypothalamus is a normal everyday topic?” he countered mockingly.
Helen conceded with a shake of her head.
He had her there. Everyone was giving her scientific explanations and Armando was pointing out the obvious.
No matter how they explained away the effect of the serum on her system, they couldn’t deny that there was something else happening, something that only she could feel.
Her gaze caught Armando’s sardonic one. No, him too.
Dr. Kirkland and his assistant Derek, were looking at the recording Eight Ball had sent them when they arrived. Dr. Kirkland looked up, his eyes assessing, looking for injuries.
“How bad?” he asked.
“It’s just the same leg that was injured,” Helen told him. “I can’t put my weight on it right now, but I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
“It’s serious enough that you can’t walk on it,” Jed pointed out.
Armando put her down on the examining table. “My fault,” he said.
“No, really, I like being carried around by commandos,” Helen said airily. “Why, a few days ago, Flyboy carried me to the restroom. Then Heath carried my useless tranqued body up to Medic. When is it your turn, Jed?”
She swore the man had no sense of humor at all. Everyone else was grinning at her attempt at humor. Hadn’t he ever tried laughing when something serious was going on? Apparently not. The darn man just stood there like a block of ice.
“That leap was awesome!” Derek said to Armando, then flushed. “Ooops, sorry, Dr. Kirkland.”
Dr. Kirkland just shook his head and turned to Helen. “If nothing’s broken, we’ll examine the leg afterwards. Let’s talk about what happened. Pull the two monitors forward, Derek. Let’s rewatch.”
Everyone gathered closer around Helen as Derek positioned the screens. Helen sat up and watched curiously, eager to see whether the micro eyes captured anything out of the ordinary.
The replay was exactly how she remembered it.
They were walking down the hallway from the debriefing room.
Sitting at debriefing for so long and just watching and studying Jed had made her clothes uncomfortable again and she’d tried to distract herself by talking as she tried to ignore the odd tension in the pit of her stomach.
It took a few seconds but she’d suddenly become aware that not all of that strange tingling was caused by Jed’s nearness.
In the video, she saw herself suddenly give a start, the way a body reacted to a sudden jab or needle prick. She pursed her lips as she watched Jed caress her lower lip with his thumb. No one said anything but oh, what she wouldn’t give to read their thoughts at that moment.
The screen divided into four at this point, showing footage from around the corners of the corridor. Nothing.
“Now watch this as a whole scene with the video of Armando upstairs,” Kirkland said, using the remote in his hand. “The clock at the corner of the screen is especially interesting.”
Helen watched, going back and forth on the side-by-side screens.
She could feel Armando’s tension as he leaned closer to the screen.
In the video, the microeye was directly above him as he walked past. He suddenly grabbed the back of his head and stumbled, one hand reaching out for the wall.
Kirkland paused the feed, clicked a couple of buttons and the screen divided into half, one showing Helen’s location, the other, Armando’s.
Helen brought up the obvious. “The clock. On both videos, the point where I jerked and where Armando held his head was the same,” she said. She turned to Armando. “What did you feel?”
He paused, his hand rubbing the back of his head. “Pain,” he said. “Extreme pain.”
“Is it similar to the headaches you complain about?” Kirkland asked.
Armando shook his head. “No. This time I could see.” He turned to Helen. “When I get my headaches, I become blind. In this instance, I was knocked down by the suddenness of it and then I became angry and got up and just ran downstairs.”
“Angry?” Jed interrupted. He pointed at the screen. “You were down with pain and then you just got up and ran? Not just the clock. I think if we use a site map, we can confirm Eight Ball’s report that Armando was right above Helen and me. Unpause it, Dr. K.”
Dr. Kirkland clicked on the remote. The video showed Armando holding on to his head with both hands for a few seconds.
His eyes opened. Even on film, Helen caught the anger in his dark eyes.
And then he started running. The video blinked as the next micro eye took over, recording Armando disappearing through the exit door.
Both screen clocks mirrored each other on the screens as they showed the simultaneous actions of what happened next, first from Helen’s location, and then from Armando’s, splitting the screen when they were only divided by the corridor wall.
One thing was screamingly obvious. There wasn’t anyone else shown, just Jed, Armando, and Helen.
When the video reached the part when Armando was leaping in the air toward her, Helen tapped Jed’s elbow, remembering something. “I thought I heard something right then,” she said softly, thoughtfully. “Not from Armando. I thought I heard a scream. It sounded strange, though, like an echo.”
“I didn’t hear anything. Did you?” Jed addressed Armando.
“No.”
“What about your headache? Do you have one now?”
“Disappeared. The moment I landed on Hell, in fact.” Armando snapped his fingers. “Like magic.”
Helen sat back against the pillow. “I give up. I have no idea what that was all about.” She waved at the screen.
“Nothing was captured on video except Armando charging at me like he knew something bad was going to happen, and now he’s saying he just had a headache and decided to go for a run.
Right to where Jed and I were standing, funny, that.
Meanwhile Jed didn’t see or hear anything.
I didn’t see anything. And the microeyes didn’t pick up anything.
So, if it were just my imagination, why did you decide to run downstairs to where I was? ”
Everyone turned their attention on Armando, who shrugged. “I can’t explain the unexplainable. All I know is that I was very angry and I just ran in the direction of—” he paused, slowly finishing his sentence, as if it’d just occurred to him, “—the anger.”
“The anger?” Helen repeated, really puzzled now. “Well, that explains everything clearly.”
Armando shrugged at her sarcasm.
Jed walked to the glass window that looked out into the next room and lifted one of the plastic shutters with his finger, peering through it.
“Everything’s all about feelings,” he said softly.
“SYMBIOS 2. Synthetic biochemistry. Armando’s headaches.
Pain. Elena has sexual sensitivity. Both experienced their problems at the same time.
Armando rushed toward what he felt was anger.
Elena walked toward what she felt was danger.
Both collide. Headache gone. Sense of anger and pain gone. ”
Armando nudged Helen. “Sexual sensitivity?” he murmured.