She gave him another innocent look. “Don’t know what you’re talking about. We’ll meet downstairs near those ghastly house plants, okay?”
Flyboy laughed. “The ghastly house plants. Yeah, that’s about the right description for those damn ferns. Okay, but I’ll be ten minutes or so late.”
“Now how would you know I’ll be waiting for ten minutes?”
He winked. “I’m a COS commando. I know everything.”
Yeah, and a half-naked man calling at her hormones to boot. She wished she had time to stay right there and chat, but duty called. She ran an appreciative eye over that gorgeous body once more and gave Flyboy a mocking salute before sauntering off.
Helen didn’t doubt that he had women calling him at every hour. She wondered whether every one of the gorgeous nine from the V-Program was like that. Arrogant and too sure of themselves. She had to ask T. about them one of these days. What the hell was V-Program, anyway?
“Morning, Dr. Kirkland. Are you ready to suck more blood out of me?” Of all the scientists and medics who handled her, she liked Kevin Kirkland the best. For one thing, he had a sense of humor. For another, he didn’t treat her like a lab rat all the time. Sometimes, she even thought he actually worried about her well-being.
“Morning, Miss Roston. How was your sleep?”
Medic Room 3 should have been renamed Special Room for Helen Roston. As far as she knew, she was the only patient who went in and out of the place. Every instrument in the room was part of the Helen Roston S and M toys, as she called them—from the head-scan machine in the corner to the oscillators on the tables that monitored her. And to the left was the VR room. Most women had jewelry and shoes. She had tubes and electrodes.
“Normal,” Helen replied.
“Any interruptions?”
She sat down on the familiar leather sofa. “Nope.” She looked around casually. “You’ll have to take me to the viewing room one of these days.”
“Viewing room?”
“The one where you watch me sleep.”
There was a pause. “We don’t watch you, Miss Roston. All we do is monitor your brain waves and stats.”
Interesting. He was the second person—if you could call Eight Ball a person—confirming that someone else was watching her. Helen crossed her legs. “What, don’t you want to study my sleeping positions as well?” she asked lightly. “Might as well. You all seem to know just about everything else.”
Dr. Kirkland smiled as he pulled on plastic gloves. “How do you feel about tonight’s test? Do you feel ready? Anything bothering you?”
Putting an arm over her forehead, Helen stretched out in a classic psychiatric patient pose. “I don’t know, Doc. Sometimes my left foot seems to want to go one way and my right foot, the other. And I get totally confused whether it’s because one of my stepfathers hit me on that foot once. The left one, I mean. And being he’s a male authority figure, Freud would say that I have a problem with—”
“All right, Miss Roston, it’s good to see that you’re mentally alert.” Dr. Kirkland shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother asking questions of either of you. Evasion, evasion, evasion. How’s a doctor supposed to make charts? Let’s begin then.”
Either of them, huh? She was getting some good information this morning. Helen sat back up, offering her arm for the usual procedures. She looked at the door leading into the VR room. She had a few questions for her trainer, too.
She found out that they called the new VR chair the Portal. She watched Derek and some technicians playing around with it, using the goggles, head-scan gear and the special gloves on themselves, as they adjusted and fine-tuned the machine with its straps and electrodes. The experimental gears and switches excited geeks like them. She could tell from their little whoops now and then that they were having the time of their lives.
She shook her head, but was glad that she’d been allowed to watch them at work. She was going to find out as much as she could about the experiment and all the equipment, but being explained to and having it done to her were two entirely different things. Yeah, yeah, synchronized brain waves. A communications link that utilized her “talent.” But the reality—or the experience when it happened—was a jolt to any normal human being.
“We’re activating the Portal, Miss Roston.”
Derek’s voice jerked Helen back from her reverie. She was so used to people doing stuff to her body that she could drift off without even feeling needles. She took a deep breath.
“Give me a sec.” She wanted to be in total control this time. Someone else in her head. Get used to that, Helen. She released her breath, then mockingly drawled, “A girl’s got to get ready when she meets a Greek god, you know.” She flexed her fingers.I want to get him closer.She smiled, and instructed softly, “Okay, proceed, Derek.”
The darkness didn’t last as long this time. There was a quick prickle of awareness as something was turned on, then there he was, larger than life, in front of her.
Helen couldn’t help smiling. Well, what was there not to smile about, when she had created this beautiful creature herself? Her eyes went lower and her smile turned into a wide grin. Who said a girl couldn’t have her cake and eat it, too?
No need for greetings.“How do you like your changes?”she asked impishly.
“I suppose any man would thank you for extra blessings,”he replied dryly.
She waved her arms out experimentally. The sense of space was so real, even though her mind was telling her she was really in VR mode.
