Essentially Human (8 page)

It ended and she leapt into his arms. He caught her and spun, laughing with her. Damn, she felt good and to see that smile, her spirit totally engaged in just living, presented him with a sweet vision and gift.

“Let’s make that the finish, eh?”

She nodded and spoke to the room, “End program.”

She raised her arms and stretched, trusting him to hold her. He felt the electrical zing at his crotch and wanted with all his heart to slide to his knees, run kisses up her bare breasts, to those lips and slide into her. She’d be hot, wet and perfect. He already knew that.

He also knew she wasn’t ready. She turned her eyes down to his and blinked.  Her smile faded in brilliance and she set hands on his shoulders. “Down, please.”

It took every ounce of self-control he knew to let her down. He took a small step sideways so she wouldn’t feel his erection, and turned her to face the screen. “I bet we could get the video feed in here also.”

“Oh, I know. I did that some. But I’ve always preferred music with my eyes closed. I’d forgotten how much fun it is. And how strong…how much I enjoyed listening to some groups.”

He wondered what she’d been about to say. He put an arm around her shoulder. “You have good taste. But let’s get to the shower. I need to clean up, eat and talk to you about some of the information I’ve gathered.”

“Okay.” She nonchalantly strolled to the door. He followed, giving her privacy in the shower, though he took the creamy negligee in for her to put on when she finished. He’d actually found a man’s short robe and changed into it, plus his baggy shorts.

When he exited, she was busy braiding her hair. He watched her a moment. “How does it dry so quickly?”

“I don’t really know. I believe the water here encourages the health and way it grows. Plus it braids easily and doesn’t tangle.” She shrugged and tossed the thick plait over one shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile at her near dance out the door. He could hear her humming.

Ria let the music wash through her. She could hear it still, deep inside. How could she have forgotten the glory of music? Lyric after lyric dove into her, words painting pictures she knew so well. Her heart swelled with colors and feelings she didn’t know how to describe anymore. As the beat pounded, the chords cascaded around her, she remembered what it meant to feel human.

When Sam joined her, the pure lunacy of dancing by herself, in an alien vessel at the bottom of the Atlantic, made her laugh and jump into his arms.

And he caught her, held her as she remembered the glory of living. She hadn’t wanted to let the sensation go. But it ended, and the quiet slipped back into her, leaving only this sliver of music. The memory of it stayed with her and she fought to keep from wrapping her arms around Sam and asking him for something more. When he touched her, she knew warmth and heat. Her skin sensitized, the fine hair of her body rose to his fingers. A great hunger woke, but she didn’t know what to do with it.

To ask him for more would be wrong. So she didn’t.

When they sat, nibbling from a bowl of cubes flavored to taste like pizza, he spoke to her of contacting his team and what they had discovered. “It appears Hammer did hold a personal grudge against you. He and his father.”

“Well, I do recall signing petitions against projects he supported. I met him once at a Congressional function and barely managing to remain cordial. His father spilled a glass of wine down the back of my dress. Petty behavior.”

“I don’t suppose he asked for an autograph for his wife? A devoted fan who later became a major fund raiser for the Save the Seas Foundation and very outspoken opponent of every project his company attempted?”

His news surprised her. “I don’t remember a Hammer on the lists. We would have used that in our newsletters, if she agreed.”

“Evidently she signed some legal agreement to stick to her maiden name when she attended conventions, as Janice Brown.”

“Janice? I…” She froze, holding the cube on the way to her mouth and sat, lost in thought. Janice. She remembered her, a vivacious woman who appointed herself a guide whenever they were in New York, knowing that city well. She’d never said anything about an ex-husband or son. But there had been a current of secretiveness about her. Not so unusual for the romance reader. Regardless of the money spent on the genre, society still saw those who were devoted to the books as bubble brained fools.

Poor woman, to be so estranged from her family.

She focused on Sam again. “You think they blamed me?”

“Seems likely. Though at this point, it’s more about using you to increase his pharmaceutical profit. Hermione will research his connection to San Diego.”

She popped the cube into her mouth, tilted her head and peered at him, setting the connection with Hammer to the side. “Hermione and Harold. Harry Potter fans?”

Sam smiled ruefully. “You remember the night before the British Potterville Park was due to open?”

“Gods, yes. The fire bombs. So many people died, including J.K. Rowling.” She dropped the cube she’d just picked up. “Happened two years before I took my dive.”

“Well, a great many children were named after the characters in the next ten years. Hermione’s parents had already saddled her with that name, while Harold’s named him three months after the park’s destruction. I once knew a Rowling Edwards, on my high school football team.”

“How’d you escape being Ronald or Severus?” She wiped at her hand, her mind suddenly too full of the horror of that night. The Romance Writer convention was held less than a month later and had been a very somber affaire. The fear wove through everything after that.

“Oh, I’m Samwise. My parents preferred Tolkien.”

She snorted, then chuckled, losing herself to simple laughter next.

“My sisters were Rosie and Merry, m-e-r-r-y.”

“Well, could have been Arwen or Galadrial. You could have been Pippen.” She wiped at her eyes. “At least it isn’t likely children grew up wanting to kick me in the ass. What’s Dr. Drummond’s first name?”

“You’ll have to ask him.” Sam yawned. “I’m beat, Ria. If you want to look over the report sent to me by Hermione, you can do it on the unit T’talin set aside for me. And can you see if you can find my cell phone?”

“Oh, I have that. Back in the room. I’m sorry, I forgot. Come on, you can get some sleep.” She offered her hand and he took it. Back in the room, he was asleep within seconds of lying down. She watched him from her table, using his tablet computer to read what his team had uncovered.

Hammer held back his satisfaction at the resignation of the Pritchard hag. He’d have preferred using her to swing the board his way, but he accepted her retiring. How delightful that one youthful indiscretion could reap such rewards.

Ordering the expansion of the quarantine zone worked to remove one of the investigators, now he just needed to finish off the cool blonde. Professor Bales certainly held secrets, but her expertise in computer security managed to keep them hidden, for the moment. Contacts from her university days hinted at colleagues the defense department would object to. But those were too old to be off much use.

Her lack of putting up a real fight for her boss surprised him. Then again, perhaps her personal ambition saw the writing on the wall and she wasn’t ready to sacrifice herself for Sam Montgomery. He’d see today.

As he approached the meeting room. he thought back to the video call with T’talin. That Aleena had proven stubborn from the very beginning. His father may have overreacted, ordering the terrorist attack on the rig in Mission Bay, but they couldn’t let the fool reveal their presence to the Navy. San Diego paid the price of T’talin’s stubbornness. And they’d both enjoyed satisfaction from knowing the author’s home had been reduced to a toxic wasteland.

Since then, the aliens had done exactly as directed. At least he’d though that until the revelation regarding Rachel Aster. But that would work to his advantage. The lab would take her apart and discover what they did to keep her alive and youthful. If it was cloning technology, he’d push through a change in the laws and find a way to make it work. Or better yet, keep it underground and charge the rich for the chance to have perfect body parts made available.

If they’d managed to reverse her age…the potential knew no bounds. He only wished more of her brain were aware. He needed the tests Dr. Drummond ran to ascertain if T’talin lied to him regarding her mental state. The HRSD doctor proved stubborn, claiming the loss of power to the facility compromised the analyzing of the data.

They lied to him. Not that it mattered, he’d have them all eventually.

He paused to watch Professor Bales in an animated discussion with Admiral Jenkins. The ancient Admiral snarled at her before spinning away and entering the room ahead of her. She bowed her head and lifted her cell phone, gazing at the screen without reacting.

Interesting!

Jenkins followed old school protocol and no doubt objected to the woman attempting to converse with him before the hearing. Hammer decided to take the unusual step of making the first move.

“Ms. Bales, is everything all right?”

She glanced from the screen at him, blinked and then slipped the phone into her coat pocket. “Oh, yes, Mr. Hammer, as right as they can be under the circumstances. I only wish I had something substantial to report regarding Agent Montgomery’s disappearance. At least the sailors from the
Ballard
have been cleared of culpability.”

“Yes, no doubt they were used to see the woman infiltrate the base. I understand you have been on administrative leave. I’m surprised they are keeping you in the information loop.” He studied her face. Lines had deepened and there were bags under eyes. Her suit didn’t fit as well as the last one, and he took note of a small stain on the cuff. Signs of distraction.

“I’m not part of the ongoing investigation, but I do have contacts and of course, since I considered Montgomery a friend as well as colleague, Agent Billings stays in touch, hoping I might be contacted. Nothing so far. Too much time has passed, Montgomery isn’t stupid. He knows his cover has been blown.” She shifted attention to the door. “Might as well go in and face the firing squad.”

“It is unfortunate that a brilliant woman such as yourself has been caught up in this fiasco. I do have some influence; perhaps we could meet for dinner and discuss the possibility of my helping you.” He took her arm and guided her to the door, pressing his knuckles slightly along the curve of her bust. She didn’t appear to notice, but he had no doubt she did. An agent this well trained wouldn’t miss the subtle notice of intent.

“Perhaps.” She swallowed and took a deliberate step to the podium at the head of the table.

Excellent, she didn’t like him but acknowledged his power.

Just the place he liked his women.

He opened with suggesting they deny the request for leave from Agent Dancer. “It removes him from our oversight and could be nothing more than an excuse to meet up with Agent Montgomery.”

The argument raged across the table, Professor Bales pleading that the man deserved a chance to assist his family in moving.

“Nonsense, packing and arranging for a truck isn’t something beyond anyone’s powers. The risk is too great.”

In the end, he won, though Admiral Jenkins scowled and mumbled at the lack of compassion being shown. But the Admiral had lost a substantial amount of family when the Shakes abruptly crossed into Oklahoma, leaving him vulnerable to charges of sentimentality.

No doubt Agent Dancer would attempt to resign and find himself under house arrest. Another lever to use against Bales.

Hermione knew that Harold had already left for New Mexico hours ago. With him traveled the cure for the Shakes, already in the hands of a dozen labs Drum knew of. All she wanted at the moment consisted of a scalding shower and an industrial sized bottle of disinfectant to wash away Hammer’s knuckle grope at her breast.

The arrogance of the man knew no bounds, obviously. No doubt he intended to use Harold’s tragedy to manipulate her into a corner where he’d dictate her surrender. She already knew it wouldn’t do any good and his sources sucked if he thought she would pander herself that way.

She stood, leaning on the podium and studied how Hammer maneuvered. Evaluating the men and women at the table, she deduced that Pritchard was correct, Admiral Jenkins didn’t like the contractor or appreciate his being part of these proceedings.

When they adjourned, the man approached her.

“Professor Bales, I hope you will personally communicate to Agent Dancer that I disagreed with the majority on the issue of his leave.” The Admiral stood ramrod straight, his lips curved downward at a steep angle.

“Yes, sir. I will. It seems likely he’ll resign.”

The man tightened one eyelid and peered at her. “He shouldn’t. I understand he has vacation time available. He should consider taking time off to visit one of National Parks.”

Did he wink at her? He’d been quite dismissive of her attempt to speak of Celeste Pritchard before the meeting.

Hermione tilted her head before replying. “Some hard hiking in the wilderness would likely be good for him, sir. I’ll pass on the suggestion.”

“Just keep to the local parks.” He spun and all but marched down the hallway.

“Fascinating man, Admiral Jenkins. Stellar career, but I fear the Navy has outgrown his generation. He once spent several days in the brig for disobeying a woman officer.”

She knew of that incident but acted surprised as she replied to Hammer. “Really? The services have changed a great deal in seventy years. I imagine he’s learned to adjust. Excuse me, I need to contact Agent Dancer.”

“Of course, I’ll be in touch regarding my invitation.”

“I’d like that.” She hung her head and slumped as she headed for the security gate, straightening after half a dozen steps. She figured he watched her. And the incident he tried to use to alienate Jenkins from her consideration him an ally? The female officer in question ordered him to report to her cabin, supposedly for a briefing. The woman later underwent a court martial for sexual harassment. Hammer certainly played with facts.

She left the base, found a coffee shop and set up a diversion with Jermaine. He’d take the clone of Harold’s phone into the nearby park and go hiking. That might buy the agent a few more days to reach New Mexico and see his family evacuated before the order went out for his arrest.

When a flyer advertising a 10k run in another park arrived via e-mail a few days later she studied it carefully. After putting it through several filters she found the small Navy cross symbol at the 8k marker and decided a competitive run would be good for her. She signed up and prepared for the event with some well-placed comments at her local café about how she assumed she’d do poorly, but she might as well do something with her time off.

Hammer sent an invite for dinner the night before and she debated whether to accept it. Finally, she did so, but requested an earlier start and change in venue, citing the run as the reason. He suggested they wait and dine two nights later. At his home.

She shuddered as she read that and sent a quick message that she’d get back to him. Then logged off and shut her system down.

The man seriously gave her the creeps, but she might be able to ascertain something more of his plans if she met with him. But not slept with him. At his home that might be difficult to avoid. She decided to consult with Drum before accepting anything.

The night before the race the agency put out a warrant for Harold arrest. He’d disappeared four days earlier after the agents sent to track him found his abandoned cell phone thirty five miles up a hiking trail. By then he’d arrived in Arizona, gathered his extended family and seen them to the central valley of California.

That same day Hammer let her know he needed to leave town and their dinner would have to be postponed. That e-mail made her smile. The news of a Shakes vaccine had broken hours before. Two pharmaceutical companies in South America and one in Canada announced shipments would commence in a matter of days.

An outcry rose in response to an attempt to block the shipments, politicians dashing here and there to cover their asses, citing concerns that the vaccine was untested. The public didn’t give a damn and wanted it sent. Anything being better than nothing. She knew the black market and underground was already in place to see it spread. The actual compounds needed to create it were simple and within the quarantined zones medical personal toiled to see it put together. The stock of Hammer’s drug company sank like a rock on the stock market. She bet he was too busy for a dinner with her!

As she laced on her running shoes, Hermione found her spirits lifting higher than they had in years. The dance to avoid Hammer and clear Monty’s name, not get fired or arrested, along with accepting the reality of an alien race existing within the ocean depths for several centuries, brought out the best in her. And by all accounts, she should be giggling uncontrollably while being strapped into a straightjacket, instead of relishing the days ahead.

Her parents had been new age believers who ran away from the growing conservative tilt of their country, fleeing to Canada when the freedom of information act was repealed in Washington. She understood and didn’t argue with them, much. Her sense of patriotic duty ran too strong to follow them. Years of justifying the means to the greater good finally caught up with her as she realized her definition of greater good seldom jibed with who actually considered themselves greater.

She’d grown cold and distant the last five years, but finally the spring approached. Looking forward to the future and the innovations Monty claimed the Aleena held, made her want to smile all the time.

The light cloud covering kept the heat from growing too oppressive as the runners gathered at the starting line. It had been years since she’d run a cross country race and she almost wished this were nothing more than a race instead of a contact point with Jenkins. As the beginning of the race saw the runners take off, she hung back, content to follow the main pack. The trail began gently enough, but grew quite steep after two miles. She nimbly placed her feet, missing the obvious tree roots and occasional deep rut. At the three mile mark, volunteers handed out water and she gladly accepted the cup.

The clouds kept the heat down, but didn’t defeat it totally. The trees grew thicker on the downslope and the runners spread out. By mile six she hadn’t seen another runner for several minutes. Then the sounds of another runner came at her back. The trail widened and the other runner drew parallel to her.

“Give me your number!”

Hermione glanced at the woman. Looked remarkably like her, even wearing the same color shorts and shirt. She quickly pulled the little bib over her head and handed it over. The woman slipped it on and pointed to a fork coming up in the trail.

“Go that way.”

With a nod, Hermione did so. The fork took a sharp right turn and ended at the shade of huge boulder. She stopped to catch her breath and Admiral Jenkins stepped around the other side. “Over here, out of sight.”

Wiping sweat from her face, she followed.

The elderly man perched on a fallen log, dressed in jeans, a beat up t-shirt with a straw cowboy style hat shading his face. He handed her a bottle of water and she gladly drank.

“I’m not normally one for such subterfuge, but Hammer and his cronies have made it all but impossible to simply speak to you without inviting investigation.”

“I understand, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Nothing. I’m fine, but you need help or you’re going to end up without a career. I don’t understand what his agenda is, to ruin the reputation of Agent Montgomery. I don’t care for your boss’s way of doing things, but he’s no traitor.” Jenkin’s pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “Now, my wife is a big reader and I’ve seen that author’s picture. What is Hammer up to, Agent Bales?”