He had no idea how long that might take. He could only hope that no one on Rosenthal’s teams would choose that precise moment to monitor the readings from a research station that supposedly had been defunct for longer than he’d been alive.
The phoenix stirred again, and this time, it managed to lift its head. Those ancient eyes fixed on him, and he felt something brush against his consciousness. It wasn’t words or even images. Just a sense of profound urgency mixed with something that might have been hope.
Help her. Help us both.
“I’m trying,” Ben whispered.
Rebecca Morse touched his shoulder. “You need to understand something else. Something about why Dr. Rosenthal wanted you here specifically.”
He turned to face her. Rebecca’s dark eyes — such a contrast to her pale blonde hair — showed a strange sort of compassion.
“Your electromagnetic compatibility with Sidney isn’t random. It’s genetic.” She was still holding her tablet, and she swiped a finger over its screen, pulling up another file. “DAPI has been tracking hereditary patterns in bioelectric signatures for twenty years. Your family tree intersects with Sidney’s six generations back.”
“You’re saying we’re related?” he demanded.
“Distantly. Genetically, you’re more like seventh cousins. But electromagnetically?” She showed him a chart that appeared to compare two sets of DNA. “You share specific genetic markers that govern how your nervous systems process electrical signals. That’s why your bioelectric fields resonate.”
Magical ability seemed to run in Sidney’s bloodline, so he’d already halfway guessed that there had to be a genetic component to all this. “Rosenthal knew about our connection when she recruited me.”
A nod. “She specifically searched for someone with your combination of traits — technical expertise, electromagnetic compatibility, and professional credibility that would make your documentation believable.” Rebecca Morse sounded almost bitter. “You weren’t chosen randomly. You were targeted.”
The phoenix made another sound, weaker this time. Seventy-four percent corrupted now.
Sidney’s hand twitched, her fingers curling as if reaching for something.
“We need to set up a perimeter,” Ben said. “Security cameras, motion sensors, whatever you have. If Rosenthal’s people somehow manage to figure out that we’re here, I want a warning.”
“Already on it.” Rebecca turned away from him and began to pull equipment from her pack, what appeared to be compact surveillance devices that she started placing around the room’s entrance. “These will give us five minutes’ warning if anyone approaches down the main corridor.”
“What about the other entrances?”
“There are three. I’ll lock them down after I finish here.” She paused. “Ben, if this facility is breached, I won’t be able to protect both of you. You need to be prepared to run.”
“I’m not leaving Sidney.”
“Even if staying means getting captured?”
He looked at Sidney’s unconscious form, at the blood on her face and the way her body trembled with exhausted effort. “Especially then.”
Rebecca Morse studied him for a long moment, then nodded. “Fair enough. But let’s try to avoid that scenario.” She finished placing the last sensor and headed for the door. “There’s food and water in the cabinets. Medical supplies if you need them. If something happens to me, you have to get Sidney and that phoenix out of here. Use the maintenance tunnel. It exits three miles north of here in an old lumber yard.”
“Where will you be?”
“Creating enough noise to draw their attention away from you.” She offered him a grim smile. “I’m good at creating noise.”
Then she was gone, and Ben was alone with Sidney and the dying phoenix — and two hours that felt like two minutes.
He pulled his chair close to Sidney’s examination table and took her hand. It was still trembling, still channeling electricity that made the hairs on his arm stand up. But it was warm and solid…and here.
For now, anyway.
“I need you to wake up,” he said quietly. “I need you to wake up and tell me what to do, because I’m a scientist, not a miracle worker, and what you’re attempting here is definitely in the miracle category.”
The phoenix’s fire pulsed weakly, and his sensors registered another spike in the corruption level.
Maybe thirty-six hours wouldn’t be enough.
Especially since Sidney still wasn’t waking up.
