Voice (3 page)

It didn’t echo, but it did vibrate, as some of her earlier attempts at sending more complicated images and thoughts had. She tried once more, only to be met with a stabbing pain too severe to ignore. She swallowed, reminding herself that if she pushed herself to the point of vomiting, she didn’t have so much as a trash can in the room and would probably have to live with it. She took a deep breath and turned to study the patterns in the cement blocks of the wall, tracing them with her fingertips.

Jemma outlined one of the squares, wondering whether Jack had a similar view, wishing he weren’t being subjected to the same sort of pain she was. She sighed as her vision almost blurred, and she closed her eyes. She was tired and in pain, and at least if there was a silver lining about being held captive and in a cell by herself, it was that if she wanted to go to sleep right now, nobody was going to stop her.

CHAPTER THREE:

Reaching

Both Dr. Harris and Josh were waiting in the lab when she was escorted in the next morning. Two days weren’t, apparently, enough for them to let down their guard, not that she’d expected it to be. Her armed escort stood inside the door of the lab, blocking the exit when he saw both scientists present, leaving the additional guard they’d passed outside.

There had been no sign yet of Heidi, and Jemma hoped that the woman hadn’t been caught helping, that she was just occupied with her normal charge, Naomi, or that she was maybe helping the others whom Jemma had left behind. Shaking off the guilt, avoiding the urge to rub at her spectacularly colored arm, Jemma took a breath and then took her seat.

“If you try lying to us again,” typed Dr. Harris from his chair, “we may have to find some alternate methods of dissuasion, and none of us want to do that, do we?” Jemma shook her head, ignoring Josh’s smile as he walked around Dr. Harris’s chair to attach the monitor to her skin. “We’ve asked them to wait to give your partner his injection today until after we’ve run a few additional tests. Then, we would like the two of you to communicate for us.”

Josh walked back to the tray, retrieving the same type of needle from the afternoon prior and injecting it with identical lack of fuss.

It seemed to take effect even more quickly this time. The scientists were silent while waiting. Josh seemed to be making a token effort to appear subdued, waiting quietly where he stood beside Dr. Harris, but his eyes glittered as he looked between Jemma and the monitor, and a smile seemed ready at his lips. Jemma decided to watch the guard while the drug—serum? failed cure?—went into effect. He was younger than most of them she’d seen, but he seemed sure of himself, of his surroundings. He didn’t use more force than he needed, but he hadn’t acted like he was afraid of hurting Jemma, either. He’d noticed the bruising on her arm and had used her other arm, instead, when he needed to guide her, but she hadn’t seen any sympathy on his face.

Maybe sympathy was why she hadn’t seen Heidi. Heidi seemed to have more autonomy than the other guards since she was privately hired, and it was possible that they were afraid of how she’d react to Jemma’s visible mistreatment. Some of the tension in her shoulders lessened at the possibility, and Jemma moved her attention to Dr. Harris as the open feeling in her mind continued to grow.

He was watching his clipboard, of course, reading whatever notes he had for the day rather than watching her while he waited. She’d internally labeled him “Doctor Clipboard” before learning his name, and she still thought it fit, though now she suspected it might be a coping mechanism rather than a lack of interest in his surroundings. Almost as if hearing her thoughts, he detached something from the clipboard, handing the paper to Jemma.

It was a photo of a woman. There were details underneath, including name, age, location, and some basic likes and dislikes. Jemma looked back up at Dr. Harris as he typed.

“That subject has also been injected with the same drug as you have. I want you to try to make contact with her. Go ahead and try, as soon as you’re ready.” Dr. Harris looked at his watch, noted something on his clipboard, then shifted his attention to the monitor. Josh’s attention, meanwhile, was already on the monitor. He watched, his shoe tapping the tiled floor.

She looked back down at the photo. She’d never been able to Talk to somebody this way, without having ever met before. It had been easier, even, to have physical contact. Talking to somebody from just a photo and some basic description? She took a breath.

The woman had red hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had bright eyes, but Jemma couldn’t quite tell whether they were blue, green, or gray. If the woman was captured, as the injection implied, the photo had been taken before that, in an open field, and judging by the way she looked at the camera, her eyes soft, her smile inviting, the person who’d taken the picture had been someone she cared about.

Her name was April. She was 21. She lived in Tacoma, Washington, and she liked to play basketball.

Jemma focused on all of these facts while staring at the photo before finally she tried to make contact.

“Hello?” She held her breath at the echo. It had actually gone through.

“Who’s there?” April sounded annoyed. Her voice was rougher, lower than Jemma had expected.

“I’m Jemma. I’m at another one of the labs. They’ve injected me, too. They asked me to try to make contact.”

“Are you a prisoner or a volunteer?” April’s voice on the last word virtually dripped with condescension.

“Prisoner.” Jemma suspected her monitor might reveal that to be less than the whole truth, but when she glanced at Dr. Harris and Josh, she saw them watching excitedly, not seeming to care that she had fudged the truth some. She really was closer to a prisoner than a volunteer, anyway, even if she had returned on purpose. “You?”

“What do you think?”

“You’ve successfully made contact, Jemma?” interrupted Dr. Harris, and she nodded. “I’d like you to ask her to confirm some things. Ask her the name of the scientist overseeing her session right now.”

“They want to prove we’re really Talking,” she sent. “They told me to ask the name of the scientist overseeing your session.”

“And you want to go along with them? Do what they say?” April sent disbelief.

Jemma felt a sudden stab of sympathy for Katherine. This must have been how Jemma had come across when she hadn’t wanted to cooperate. “To an extent, yes. I refuse to be a puppet, but they’re the ones who caused the Event. They need to clean it up, and to do that, they need information. Information they can get by studying us. I’m helping where I can without feeling like a complete pushover.”

Again, it wasn’t the full truth since Jemma felt like she was helping beyond that point, but it was the spirit of the truth. Her head felt full, open, the throbbing lacing with the opposing feelings to make her a little dizzy. She focused again as April responded, a little more subdued this time.

“Jasmine is my scientist’s name.” When Jemma relayed the information, spelling the name in large letters in the air, Josh jumped, almost a dance in place. Dr. Harris’s eyes widened briefly before he composed himself, nodding at his clipboard, taking notes, and returning his attention to the monitor. “What do they want us to do next?” Some of April’s spirit had returned, and Jemma felt a smile tugging at her lips.

“They haven’t said. They can’t tell exactly what we say, and they can’t control
everything
we do. I think they’re just trying to study different connections right now. How long have you been there?”

“Pretty much since the telepathy started. I’ve lost track of time.”

Months. They’d held her captive for
months
. Jemma clenched her fist before relaxing the one on her injured arm, breathing until the pain faded. “Are they treating you all right?”

“I mean, sort of. It depends on the day and the definition of ‘all right.’ They don’t beat me or anything. Um, hold on, Jasmine says she wants you to ask Dr. Harris where they last met. Is this some weird dating service? Seems like a lot of effort for a hookup.”

Jemma sent a laugh before looking to Dr. Harris, miming writing. He frowned, then handed her a crayon and paper. Jemma held the crayon lightly, knowing from her meals that if she held something too tightly, it would hurt where Josh had insert the tracker.
Jasmine wants you to verify where you last met.

“My brother’s house,” typed Dr. Harris. Beside him, Josh waggled his eyebrows. Jemma looked back down at her paper while she responded to April.

“Oh my God, she actually blushed,” sent April. “I didn’t think she could do that. She’s totally old, not like, I mean, no offense if you’re old, too, but I wasn’t expecting that.”

They must not have given April the same information they’d given Jemma. “None taken, I think,” she sent. “I’m a lot closer to your age than to Dr. Harris’s, anyway.”

“It’s time to stop communicating with her for right now,” typed Dr. Harris, and Jemma nodded, feeling the connection break on the other end, too. As when she Talked with the others, the connection hadn’t been obvious like it was when she Talked with Jack, and it cut out more quickly, too. “Now, I’d like you to try contacting this man.” He handed her another sheet of paper.

Once more, Jemma studied it before trying to make contact. His name was Ben. He was from Illinois. He liked painting. He was 43. His photo looked like it had been taken from some sort of professional website or a business card. He wore a collared shirt, blue like his eyes. His hair was dark.

“Hello.” Instead of the echo Jemma expected after her earlier success, she was met with stabbing pain. She clutched her forehead until she felt a careful hand on her arm. She looked up, brow still furrowed, to see Dr. Harris.

“We won’t try contacting him again today. He’s telepathic, but he’s not been given the injection.” Jemma nodded, swallowing away the pain. Dr. Harris typed for several minutes, and Jemma’s pain faded as Jack’s connection grew into the place it belonged.

“Jack,” she sent, smiling at the echo, ignoring the fact that though his connection still seemed to help, even with the drugs, contacting him at this distance through whatever barrier the labs had still hurt. She saw Dr. Harris shaking his head, but it seemed to be directed at the monitor, not at her.

“Jemma.” Her name held a caress.

“Jemma,” Dr. Harris typed, the repetition from the electronic speaker jarring, “the difference in your connection with Jack and your connection with April is astounding. Look.” He turned the monitor so she could see it, and Jemma shifted, grateful he seemed willing to share today. “You can clearly see the rise and fall of your conversation with April here, how when you aren’t actively sending or receiving, the background connection is nearly undetectable. It’s there, but barely.” He pointed at the activity line, just above the bottom of the relevant portion of the monitor. “When you’re communicating with Jack, though, it’s amazing.” Without his needing to move his finger to the newer sections of activity, Jemma could see the difference. She could see the two blips of activity from their brief exchange, and she could see their connection between, still ongoing, nearly as high as some of the actual exchanges between herself and April.

“We want to extend that to a conversation between you and April,” Dr. Harris continued. “What we’re going to try is having the three of you communicate at once. You’ll initiate that. Then, when I let you know, you’ll continue focusing on that connection, but you’ll sever contact with Jack while you continue communicating with April. Can you do that?”

Jemma closed her eyes at the idea of dropping her connection with Jack on purpose, but she nodded. “Ready for the test of the day?” she sent Jack. “We get to try long-distance conference calling.”

“That sounds like a blast,” he sent back with just a trace of sarcasm. “Ready when you are.”

She reached out, focusing again on April. “Still there?”

“Yeah,” sent April. “Sorry I was talking like a middle school student earlier. I’ve just been cooped up for too long.”

“That’s fine.” Jemma sent understanding, then frowned. She knew how to Talk to both of them at once, but how to make it so they could hear each other? Eyes closed, she concentrated on her connection with Jack, that one easy enough to call on, then on her new, tenuous connection with April, pulling them together. “Can you both hear me?”

“Both?” sent April.

“Reading you both loud and clear,” sent Jack with a mental wink.

There was brief silence from April. “So are you not alone there, then?”

“We were here together,” sent Jemma, “but we split up. Long story, and they want us to try something else. I have to stop talking to Jack and keep talking to April.”

“Already?” At Jack’s question, Jemma opened her eyes and saw Dr. Harris nod.

“Yes. Maybe they’ll let us Talk later.”

“Be careful, and don’t overdo it,” sent Jack, ending with what felt like an embrace. Jemma smiled to herself, then closed her eyes again to focus on working through the connections as Dr. Harris had asked.

Focus on how Jack’s connection feels, but let go of his connection. She tried it, knowing she’d visibly winced when she cut his connection, then checked to make sure April was still there.