Orchid

by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Gilbert’s eyes sparkled. “This makes me believe it, my dear.”

  He reached into the pocket of his lab coat and removed a long, thin object that resembled a small flashlight. In the glare of the lab lights it gleamed with a strange, metallic sheen.

  “Well, that answers one very interesting question,” Orchid said. “You were the twit who arranged for the theft of the alien artifact.”

  “I did, indeed, Miss Adams.” Gilbert glanced at the silvery relic with fascinated pride. “I learned about the relic’s powers when I persuaded Mr. Willis to return to ParaSyn a couple of months ago for a three-year follow-up.”

  “Theo would never have come back here willingly.”

  “Poor Mr. Willis was in need of money. He had some silly dream about opening a focus agency specializing in ice-prisms. Utter nonsense, of course. But when I offered to pay him a considerable sum for a single, one-hour session, he reluctantly agreed to return.”

  “I still can’t see him confiding data about the relic to you.”

  “To tell you the truth, I, too, did not trust him to be fully cooperative during the session. So while he was here I took the liberty of using some new medication that induced him to talk quite freely. He had just started his job in Dr. Brizo’s lab.”

  “You mean you drugged him and that’s when he told you that he thought one of the alien relics in Brizo’s lab had some real power?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you actually believed him? Sheesh.”

  Gilbert gave her a disapproving frown, as if she had disappointed him. “He was under the influence of the medication, my dear. He told me the truth.”

  “What he believed to be the truth, maybe. Theo had a few syn-psych problems, if you’ll recall.”

  “Rest assured, it’s the truth.” Gilbert chuckled. “At any rate, he explained that while working with one particular relic, he had sensed that it contained some form of energy. He wanted to conduct further tests before he wrote up his report. He wanted to be very certain, you see, because he was afraid his new associates would think he was crazy if he simply told them what he suspected to be true.”

  “Theo Willis didn’t like you any better than I did. Mind telling me how you got him to steal the relic for you?” Orchid gave him a derisive look. “You’re only a low-range hypno-therapist, after all. Class two at best.”

  The barb stung, as she had intended. Gilbert’s hand clenched violently around his clipboard. But he quickly recovered his composure.

  “It was quite simple, my dear. I worked through a much stronger hypno-therapist.”

  “Quentin Austen,” Orchid whispered.

  “Yes, indeed. Once I discovered the value of the relic, I knew I had to have it. But I could not risk having ParaSyn connected to the theft. With the assistance of my new hypnotic enhancement drug, I convinced Mr. Willis that he would benefit greatly from therapy. He agreed to allow himself to be referred to Austen.”

  “Austen used hypnosis to get Theo to steal the relic.”

  “You’ve already figured that out, have you? Quite right. What’s more, with the aid of the same new medication I just mentioned, Dr. Austen was able to instill and enforce an especially strong hypnotic suggestion in Mr. Willis.”

  “Why would Austen help you?”

  Gilbert beamed. “Because he was about to lose his license to practice due to a pending lawsuit from one of his ex-patients. He needed the support and influence that I wield with the disciplinary committee of the New Seattle Association of Synergistic Psychologists.”

  “You told him that if he helped you use Theo to steal the artifact, you’d see to it that he got to keep his license, is that it?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Once you had the relic, you arranged for Theo to be murdered.”

  Gilbert’s brow furrowed. “I really had no choice. I assumed that getting rid of Willis would erase any trace of a link between ParaSyn and the stolen relic. Besides, I intended to use another ice-prism, not Willis, for my work on the relic. Willis was much too erratic for serious research.”

  Orchid felt suddenly very queasy. “You intended to use me, didn’t you? That’s why you kept sending me those letters urging me to return to ParaSyn for follow-up studies.”

  “Yes. I had hoped the influence of your Northville academic background would persuade you to return to the lab. But, as always, you proved extremely stubborn and uncooperative.” Gilbert smiled. “Ah, well, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

  Orchid ignored that. “You hired Mr. Amazing and his prism to murder Theo, didn’t you?”

  “Actually the illusion-talent who called himself Mr. Amazing handled the car crash on his own. He had no need of a prism for such a simple job.”

  “But things started to go wrong after that, didn’t they?”

  “Things began to grow untidy.” Gilbert’s plump fingers tapped nervously on the back of his clipboard. “The attempt to discourage Mr. Stonebraker failed. It was really most annoying. Then Austen came to me. He was extremely distraught. He said that just before he died, Willis had written a letter accusing him of hypnotizing him and forcing him to steal the relic. In the letter Willis claimed he had arranged to have another letter sent to a friend, instructing him to go to the police if anything happened to him.”

  “The letter to Morgan Lambert,” Orchid said softly.

  “I employed Mr. Amazing again to retrieve the letter and get rid of Lambert. He and his prism found the letter, but the fool made a copy. He had the temerity to try to blackmail me with it.”

  “So you killed him and tried to kill the prism who had helped him. But you screwed up, didn’t you, Gilly? You didn’t succeed in killing Crowder.”

  “Things got a bit out of control,” Gilbert admitted.

  “And you got desperate. You tried to make it look as though Quentin Austen was behind the theft and the murders. Then you killed him, too. You wanted everyone to think that he had finally gone over the edge and committed suicide.”

  “It wasn’t quite like that, but you’re very close, my dear. Very close, indeed. The plan should have worked.” A troubled expression marred Gilbert’s cheery features. “It will work. I have you now.”

  “Not for long. Stonebraker will come for me.” Orchid deliberately slipped into melodramatic tones that were more appropriate to an actor in a late-night horror film. “He’s a strat-talent, Gilly. Do you know what that means?”

  Gilbert frowned. “They’re rather primitive, I believe.”

  “Very primitive, Gilly. Some people call them hunters. Rafe will find me. And when he does, Gilly, he will hunt you down and he will rip out your throat.”

  Gilbert’s eyes widened. He took an involuntary step back. She did not write psychic vampire romance novels for nothing, Orchid thought.

  Briana stirred on the gurney. “My God. I hope he does exactly that, you nasty little worm.”

  Gilbert’s face darkened. “Mr. Stonebraker is no longer a threat. If he appears, he will be dealt with. Everything is under control in terms of security here at ParaSyn.”

  “Uh huh.” Orchid looked at him. “If you believe that, Gilly, I’ve got a nice bridge in the Western Islands I can sell to you.”

  “Shut up,” Gilbert hissed. “Shut up this instant. And don’t ever call me Gilly again. I have had enough of your scorn and disrespect. You don’t know what you’re up against.”

  “You’re no different now than you were three years ago, Gilly. You’re still envious of people who have more psychic power than you do, aren’t you? You’re well and truly wacko if you think that alien relic is going to help you increase your talent.”

  “Damn you. I will show you what this relic can do.” Gilbert tightened his grip on the artifact. “Link.”

  “Fat chance, Gilly.”

  Gilbert lifted his chin. Very methodically he put the clipboard down on the lab bench, reached into his pocket, and brought out a small pistol.

  “Link, you stupid li
ttle ice-prism, or I will kill Mrs. Culverthorpe. You have until the count of three to make up your mind.”

  “Orchid?” Briana struggled to sit up on the edge of the gurney. Fear twisted her face. “Orchid, I think he means it.”

  “One,” Gilbert hissed.

  * * *

  Selby stared at the slumped form of the guard who had just dropped to the ground with a dull thud. “Did you kill him?”

  “No. But he’ll be out for a while.” Rafe went down on one knee beside the ParaSyn guard.

  Working swiftly, he stripped off the snappy black uniform and boots. He removed the plastic restraint cuffs from the black leather belt and clipped them around the guard’s wrists. Then he retrieved the two-way radio.

  Thus far things had been easy. Too easy, perhaps.

  The layout of the ParaSyn physical plant that he had retrieved from his computer had been accurate. He hoped the data on the security system was also.

  Rafe and Selby had left the Icer parked on a side street and simply walked up to the front gate. Selby had distracted the guard with a string of questions about a friend who worked at ParaSyn. Rafe had taken care of the rest.

  He got to his feet and tugged on the ParaSyn uniform. He attached the small radio to his belt.

  “Where’d you learn how to do that?” Selby sounded both awed and shocked.

  “Operate a two-way radio? It’s not all that tricky. They’re used a lot in Stonebraker warehouses and on the docks.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the damned radio. Anyone can work a two-way. I meant what you did to the guard just now. The way you crept up behind him and put your arm around his throat. He didn’t even make a sound. He just collapsed.”

  “It’s no big deal, Selby. I just cut off the flow of blood to his brain for a few seconds. He sort of fainted.”

  “Fainted? Is that what you call it?”

  “Actually, it’s a meta-zen-syn exercise taken to its logical conclusion.”

  “I thought that meta-zen-syn stuff was all peace and harmony and synergistic balance.”

  “Balance is not always achieved with peace and harmony. Sometimes you have to give things a little push.” Rafe started to turn toward a stand of trees.

  “Wait a second. We’re inside the grounds, but what’s the plan here?”

  “We find Orchid and Briana and we get them out.”

  “Just like that, huh?”

  Rafe tapped the small radio. “With any luck, this will make things a little easier. Come on, let’s get moving. We don’t have much time. The guard has to check in periodically. When he misses his next call from headquarters, someone will come looking.”

  Rafe led the way into the trees that darkened the parklike grounds of the ParaSyn campus. Moonlight splattered on the ground like so much spilled milk.

  “Lucky they don’t have any guard wolf-hounds,” Selby muttered.

  “According to the security data, Dr. Bracewell doesn’t like animals around except the ones used in the labs. Too dirty.”

  “I still don’t understand why this Bracewell character would want to kidnap your friend Orchid.”

  “It’s a long story.” Rafe quickened his pace. He was almost loping through the trees now. His senses were jacked up as far as they could go without the aid of a prism. Periodically he used a burst of psychic energy to widen his awareness for a few brief seconds and to make a sweep of the psychic plane in a search for Orchid. Thus far he had gotten no response to his questing probe but he was certain she was here somewhere.

  The headquarters of ParaSyn functioned as Dr. Gilbert Bracewell’s lair. According to the map in the Synergy Fund files, Bracewell actually lived on site. He had a small apartment in the main building.

  Bracewell would feel safe here, surrounded by his guards and his unassailable prestige, Rafe thought. He would feel in control here. A man who was slipping over the edge would cling to a sense of control the way a drowning man clung to a rope.

  “Not so fast.” Selby’s breath quickened as he strained to keep up with Rafe. “I can barely see you, let alone where I’m going. It won’t help matters if I run into a tree.”

  Selby had a point. Rafe knew he could not afford to risk leaving his cousin to wander aimlessly around the darkened grounds. Reluctantly he slowed his pace.

  A few minutes later he halted at the edge of the woods. The main building of ParaSyn, Lab A, was so well lit with outdoor floodlights that it almost glowed. The annual report claimed that it operated around the clock but tonight it looked as if it had been shut down for a holiday weekend.

  Rafe studied the two other, smaller labs. Both appeared equally quiet.

  He could feel the trap. The only question was, who had set it? The Synergy Fund biographical data on Dr. Gilbert Bracewell had not painted a picture of a man who was a great strategic thinker. Yet Bracewell had to be involved in this somehow.

  Selby stumbled to a halt beside Rafe and gazed at the brilliantly lit building in despair. “We’ll never be able to get inside.”

  “Sure we will. All we need is another uniform.”

  “How the hell are we supposed to get one? Take out another guard?”

  Rafe glanced across the service road. He watched a man in a blue work uniform walk out the side door of Lab B. The man headed toward a van parked in the lot behind the building. The sign on the side of the van read “ParaSyn Janitorial Dept.”

  “I think I see an easier way,” Rafe said.

  Chapter

  20

  Orchid saw the wild glitter in Gilbert’s eyes. He had already killed more than once. There was no reason to think he would hesitate to shoot Briana.

  She felt the probing tendril of a low-range psychic power.

  “Two…” Gilbert tightened his grip on the pistol.

  She answered the probe with a brilliant, crystal clear prism.

  “Ah, yes.” Gilbert’s face relaxed into an expression of approval. “I knew you would be reasonable about this, my dear.”

  Unwholesome waves of power began to flow through the prism. Orchid fought the instinctive impulse to dissolve the focus. The only thing that made the experience tolerable was the fact that Gilbert Bracewell was not a strong talent.

  “Okay, you’ve got your focus link, Two-Watt. Now, what?”

  “Now, this, my dear.” Gilbert tightened his grip on the relic. His face grew taut as though he strained to lift a great weight. “Now, you will understand—”

  Without warning, his low-class hypno-talent surged. Out on the psychic plane, Orchid watched first in alarm and then in mounting horror as the power pouring through the prism intensified.

  In a matter of seconds she found herself focusing a great, rushing, pounding psychic talent. Dark energy crashed through the prism in waves that grew stronger with every beat of her heart.

  “The relic,” she managed. “You’re doing this with it.”

  “Indeed, I am.” Gilbert’s smile was tight and strained, but his eyes were bright with cheerful madness. “The artifact is some sort of mechanical device that can heighten the level of an individual’s psychic power. But it only functions when that power is focused through a prism who can adapt to the odd wavelengths given off by the alien machine.”

  “An ice-prism.”

  “Yes, my dear. An ice-prism is the only kind of prism that can work with it. A very strong ice-prism. You see now why you are so important to me, Miss Adams?”

  In the metaphysical realm the dark, unwholesome power surged to new levels. This time Orchid sensed that Gilbert was not simply exercising his new level of psychic talent. He was gathering it with a purpose.

  Dread shafted through her. With the aid of the relic and her unique prism capabilities, Gilbert had become a hypno-talent of monstrous magnitude.” A true psychic vampire.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “I believe this is an excellent opportunity to conduct a small demonstration of my enhanced psychic powers. By the Curtain, no one will ever
call me Two-Watt Bracewell again.”

  He kept the pistol trained on Briana as he opened a drawer beneath the lab bench. Orchid tensed.

  “Gilly, you don’t know anything about this relic. There’s no way to test it safely under these conditions.”

  “Give me some credit, my dear Miss Adams. After all, I am the director of research here at ParaSyn. I know what I’m doing.”

  Gilbert turned slightly to reveal the object he had taken from the drawer. The cold lab lights glinted on a pair of heavy shears. Orchid recognized it as a tool used for cutting wire and other hard objects.

  Carrying the shears in the same hand he used to clutch the relic, Gilbert walked across the room to where Briana sat on the edge of the gurney. He freed her hand from the plastic cuff with a single snip.

  “Take these, Mrs. Culverthorpe.” He slapped them into her hand. “And look into my eyes.”

  Understanding dawned on Orchid. “Don’t do it, Briana. Don’t look at him.”

  Still dazed from the effects of the gas that had been used to stun her, Briana stared uncomprehendingly down at the shears. Then she raised her confused gaze to meet Gilbert’s eyes.

  Hypno-talent slashed through the prism. Briana’s gaze went from dazed to glassy-eyed.

  “What do you want me to do?” she whispered in an emotionless voice.

  “Very simple my dear.” Gilbert stepped back several paces. He smiled broadly. “Take the shears and plunge them into your chest.”

  “No.” Desperate now, Orchid tried to dissolve the prism.

  Nothing happened. The prism was locked in Gilbert’s enhanced psychic talons. She could not cut off his mechanically augmented power surge.

  “Please be quick about it, Mrs. Culverthorpe. I don’t have all night, you know. Miss Adams and I must leave here soon.”

  “Briana, no,” Orchid shouted. “Don’t do it. Look at me, Briana. Don’t look at that stupid little elf. Look at me.”

  But Briana continued to gaze steadily at Gilbert, who smiled fondly back.

  Dark psychic energy whirled and slammed through the prism, intensifying the hypnotic effect.