Page 33 of I Dream of Danger
He sat all through the night in the nest of bedclothes they’d made, head hanging low, not thinking, just feeling. Twisting his note in his hands.
Realizing with each painful beat of his heart that Elle Thomason was gone from him forever.
Chapter
Six
Palo Alto, California
Ten years later
The view was muddy, as if underwater in a swamp. Men moved quickly, their movements exaggerated, like ants in an anthill which a stick has just stirred. A wailing siren sounded, filling the air.
She was following one man in particular, not tall but immensely strong, with thick shoulders and a barrel chest, with three red stars on his collar. He was in charge, his body language that of dominance, the body language of those around him that of extreme subservience.
The man in charge pointed imperiously but she couldn’t make out at what. There were two doors, side by side, and a huge sign in the middle with two arrows, one pointing right and one pointing left. The writing was strange, a completely foreign alphabet, the words running up and down not left to right.
The column of soldiers didn’t hesitate. They poured through the right-hand door at a dead run. Disciplined and fast.
I must follow them, she thought, but the scene was already shifting as she moved past the door and down a white corridor. The men were already at the end of the corridor, in front of a steel door like a bank vault. A screen was to the right with odd markings. The commander of the soldiers pulled back his sleeve, punched in numbers on a skin keypad, slapped his palm against the screen.
Even over the wailing siren, the hydraulic hiss of a releasing lock was loud. Two dull clangs and the door started opening slowly outward. There was a massive change in air pressure from the corridor into what lay behind the door. The air behind the door was at a much lower pressure, and it was as if a sudden wind pressed against the soldier’s backs, the high-pressure air flowing into the room behind the door.
She couldn’t feel the difference in air pressure, of course, but the soldiers’ uniforms flattened against their backs. One soldier, taken unawares, stumbled.
The bank vault door continued its smooth progression outward. What lay beyond the door would be visible in a moment or two. She mentally leaned forward, anxious. She’d travelled 15,000 miles to see behind that door. It reached midpoint and started swinging to the right and she could see two huge rails with an electromagnetic engine at the back. The soldiers ran into the room and took up stations around the huge piece of machinery, back to it, rifles pointed outward. Their leader stepped forward and
BLACKNESS
Deep swirling blackness.
A sickening rush…
“—all right?” A tapping of her cheek. “Elle? Elle? Talk to me!”
She was weak, unable to move. Hands, feet, neck—all unresponsive. Her eyes fluttered open to see a pretty face hovering anxiously over her.
“Elle? Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” It came out an unintelligible croak. She coughed. “I can hear you.” The features of the anxious face were familiar—they worked together, her best friend… “Sophie.” Sophie’s face smoothed out instantly, the lines of anxiety disappearing.
“Wow, you scared me. We couldn’t get you to wake up.” Sophie looked around, tapped on the counter to connect her to the adjoining room where the control panels were. “Dr. Connelly’s awake. Did the fMRI show a change of status?”
A disembodied voice answered. “Yes. Subdural involvement. Parahippocampal gyrus lit up like a Christmas tree.”
“Thanks, Rahjiv. Save the data, we’ll collate with the other data tomorrow. I think we can wrap this up for today. You guys can go home.”
“What—” Elle’s mouth was so dry she had trouble articulating. “What time is it?”
“Seven thirty. PM. You’ve been out for almost six hours.”
Elle closed her eyes, trying to absorb that information. Six hours outside her body. This was the third controlled experiment of an out-of-body experience. This time with specific coordinates. She’d gone far away, and it had taken her a long time to get there and a long time to get back.
It was all coming back. The injection of SL-61, an experimental drug to enhance psychic abilities. She’d been hooked up to blood monitors, to an ECG and a mini functional-MRI, and she was restrained. Before she could think to resent them, fight them, the wrist, ankle and neck restraints were released with a loud click.
Firm hands supported her back and she fought the dizziness sitting up. Disorientation, nausea…they were part of the mix. The price to be paid.
“What are the—” Elle’s tongue was too thick to complete the words. Sophie held her head and brought a glass of water to her mouth. Ice cold water, going down like a dream. “What are the readouts saying?”
