“You’re saying that you want to make all the major decisions of every operational target, that we’re to listen to you?” The incredulity in the man’s voice echoed the stares of the others around the table.
“Yes. Have a good day, gentlemen.”
The man cut off the satellite feed and turned away from the screen. He punched the intercom on his desk. “Tell Derek to get the room ready.”
Now that the camera was off, Kirkland came forward. He’d listened in often enough to know exactly when to interrupt. He watched as his test patient unbuttoned his shirt with one hand while offering his other arm.
After a few minutes, Kirkland rubbed alcohol and drew blood, then checked his stats. He labeled the tubes, putting them away in a small case. “Same questions—no nicotine, alcohol or caffeine the past twelve hours?”
“No.”
“How’s the stress level today?”
“I haven’t killed anyone today.”
“At least you’re retaining your sense of humor after pissing off some of the most powerful men in our country.”
“It’s relaxing. You ought to try it sometime, Kirkland.”
“To each his own. Of course, I feel quite powerful now knowing that I have more information on what COS Center has been doing with Miss Roston.” The doctor smiled at the direct stare of the man in the chair. “Yes, I understand. That also means I’m potentially in more danger than most people.”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you worry they’ll axe you?”
“No.”
“Why, if I may ask?”
A glimmer of humor appeared in the other man’s eyes. “They don’t like working with each other, Kirkland. They hate having things out of their hands. Yet someone more powerful than they are is ordering them to continue this research, year after year. Why?”
Kirkland cleared his throat. The answer was pretty obvious. Everyone wanted their own COS success story. “Because covert and subversive training work?”
The man straightened his elbow and Kirkland placed the Band-Aid over his vein. “The success rate tells the story. And as long as it remains so, they won’t question how we run things here. We pick and choose what we do, and we give them the results.”
“It was nice to see you defending Miss Roston, especially with their remarks about her being a woman. After working with her these past few months, I find her more than just the test subject those people view her.”
“Really?”
“Don’t you like her? You’ve talked to her, seen her up close.”
There was a pause. The man stood up and buttoned his open shirt. “She does have a sense of humor.”
“Especially the way she made you up as in the VR program.”
“Is this relevant for your evaluation?”
“No. But I’m curious about your reaction, that’s all. How does it feel to be seen as something you aren’t?”
The usually serious face of the project monitor cracked a slight smile. “I’m not the one who needs psych evaluation, Doc. She is. I’ve been through enough tests in this lifetime to know what you’re up to.”
The doctor sighed. Closing the file, he tucked it under his arm. “I suppose that’s why you’re the best for this phase. You have the experience to guide her, especially if the serum doesn’t go well with her system.”
“The test dose will tell.”
“The previous tests with soldiers gave the exact results we wanted, although we don’t know the long-term effects. It’ll be doubly important with Miss Roston, who has been subjected to so many programs. She should be a mess, but she’s remarkably stable.”
“Yes, Kirkland, I can tell you like her. I’ll take care to keep her safe.”
Kirkland cleared his throat. He hadn’t wanted to appear too concerned for Miss Roston, but he’d gotten to like the young woman.
The intercom buzzed. “Derek’s ready, sir.”
“Is she asleep?”
“Yes.”
Dr. Kirkland picked up his case. “Shall we go?”
“Wait.”
The man turned on his monitor and flipped channels. Helen Roston’s room at the Center was all gray, just as her test required it to be. But the woman in there wasn’t gray. Even from where Kirkland stood, she emanated a vibrancy all her own. The way she slept, on the right side of the bed, blankets kicked off. The way her features were perfectly composed, a small smile still playing on her lips. The way she was dressed, in a small shirt and underwear. Gray, of course. The way one long naked leg was tucked under the other. Helen Roston obviously didn’t mind being monitored half-naked. Just like him—Kirkland returned his gaze to his patient.
“If I weren’t a doctor, I would feel this is an invasion of privacy,” Kirkland said.
“She signed the agreement. She knows we’ll be watching her when she undergoes sleep training here.”
“She thinks scientists and doctors are. Not you.”
The man glanced at Dr. Kirkland, a brow raised. “She’s a smart woman, Doc. She’s GEM. She has more training than you’ll ever know.” He returned his gaze to the sleeping woman. “She knows I’ve been watching her.”
“She’s even more remarkable then. But that’s good. She needs to trust you, or this isn’t going to work.”
The other man didn’t say anything as he continued looking at the screen. Kirkland didn’t interrupt any more, quietly waiting. He was used to the man staring at the test subject. It was the same intense stare every time, as if he was memorizing every detail of the sleeping woman. Kirkland wasn’t a psychologist; he wasn’t going to make any professional conclusion about that. As a scientist, he found this whole thing quite bizarre, but all experiments at the Center were bizarre.
The man next to him was probably one of the Center’s most successful experiments and at times, Kevin Kirkland wasn’t even sure he was human. His abilities were legendary. Kirkland glanced at the screen, then back at the man. What a pair. Helen stirred, stretched, and then turned the other way, tucking one hand between the bed and one leg.
“I’m ready.”
The elevator took them to a sealed chamber. It was gray, just like the other room. The man stripped without preliminaries and climbed onto the special bed. Kirkland adjusted the straps and the headrest that was similar to the one Helen Roston had in her room.
“You can skip the subliminal message tape.”
Dr. Kirkland paused, trying to hide his surprise. “There is no—”
“Doc. I know when my mind is being fucked with.”
How? Another mystery about the man. “I had orders.”
“I’m not angry. Just skip the subliminal loop. I’m as honest and loyal to the government as I’m ever going to get. You can choose to tell them that or not.”
“I’ll have to tell them that if I change any order of the test.”
The man reached out, caught hold of Dr. Kirkland’s wrist. “I’m no longer a test. She is.”
“You’re part of it,” Kirkland reminded calmly. He sighed. “I won’t put on the subliminal text.”
The man released him and settled back comfortably. “Is she on theta wave yet?”
The