by J. Judkins
Kim suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.
Less than a minute later, there was a soft click. “Aaaaand done.” Angel pulled open the doors, thankfully without the shriek of an ear-piercing alarm.
Kim let out a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. “Ready to do this?”
Angel peered into the darkness. “Please, stay here. I need to find and disable their security system.”
“Okay.”
Angel fell into a crouch and crept inside.
The minutes crawled past before she returned, slightly dustier, and beckoned Kim inside. Angel closed the door behind them.
The interior looked to be a steel workshop. Worktables piled high with miscellaneous equipment stretched out in every direction, interspersed with machines whose function was anyone’s guess. Cardboard boxes competed for floor space with handheld tools of every sort. Only the concrete floor looked immaculate. Distant windows high above let in generous amounts of moonlight—the only source of illumination.
Darkness shrouded the second floor, but Kim could make out numerous tables and chairs placed among the artfully arranged plant life and fake-looking trees.
The largest item by far claimed a spot in the room’s geographic center. It stretched upward to just short of the ceiling. A rough, multilayered drop cloth covered it at every level. Steel scaffolding partially surrounded the unknown structure in a giant semicircle.
Angel disappeared down one of the side corridors while Kim milled about, not at all certain what she was looking for. A wall safe would be ideal. A discarded laptop for Angel to hack would be best of all.
Ten minutes later, Kim’s search had come to an end. Nothing. Not even an entertaining but ultimately irrelevant audio voice log. She’d found nothing beyond construction equipment, construction supplies, and cleaning materials.
Angel approached her. “I found a space on one of the desks completely free of dust and debris. My guess is that it was used for a laptop, but I don’t think it’s here anymore. Were you able to find anything?”
“Not a thing.”
Both lapsed into silence. Kim’s expression turned sour.
It hadn’t escaped her notice that Angel had left the obvious solution unsaid.
Chapter Twenty
The notification came as a pleasant surprise. Naomi had been worried the personal alert system she’d set in place wouldn’t function as she’d hoped, but it did. It worked flawlessly. Localized power had been disrupted at one of the warehouses, and Naomi was now the sole member of their group with the knowledge and authority to do something about it. This could never have happened with her former boss looking over her shoulder and breathing down her neck.
Naomi used her central computer link to focus on the disruption and . . . nothing happened.
She tried again, using a different pathway, and again, her efforts were met with failure. The system persisted in telling her the power had been cut entirely, which didn’t seem at all likely.
Undeterred, Naomi assumed she must be doing something wrong, not that something must be wrong with the system.
A third try confirmed the problem. The power had been cut. She’d been right the first time, but more importantly, her scrutiny had allowed her to identify a second, unidentified power source in the area.
The modulator was there. And if the modulator was there, that meant Angel and her companion were there, too.
Things were proceeding at a faster clip than anticipated.
Naomi spent a brief moment familiarizing herself with the location and its importance. If Kim and Angel were there, what were they hoping to discover? And more importantly, why had they brought the modulator with them? It didn’t make sense. Even if Angel were able to interact with the device, she’d never be able to utilize it to its full potential without the necessary training.
The modulator was a precision instrument. What was she hoping to use it on at an empty warehouse? Why bring it when it served no purpose?
It seemed her adversary was playing a deeper game. Could it be that Angel was setting a trap, anticipating Naomi would come to reclaim the device?
In that case, it was vital Naomi stack the deck against Angel and weigh the odds in her favor. It would serve no purpose to end the game early by reclaiming the device, but she could use the opportunity to extract as much information from Angel as she possibly could.
Naomi killed the link, and her thoughts turned to Melanie. This sort of mission would be perfect for her.
In an accident of efficiency, the connection went through before Naomi could reconsider her decision.
“Hello?” Melanie’s voice sounded weary.
Naomi hesitated. Had she been sleeping? How long did humans need to sleep, anyway?
“Hello? Naomi? Is this you?”
“How did you know?”
“Caller I.D. You’re using a company line. Is something wrong?”
“I know it’s late—” Naomi caught herself before she could say more. Her personal link recorded everything she said and did. If she wanted to involve Melanie, it was imperative she keep her words as vague as possible.
“What do you want?” Melanie sounded irritated.
“I’d like you to come with me. Into the city. I want to see you.”
“You’re asking me out?”
“Yeah. That.”
“Sorry if I sound dubious, but I want to be sure. Are you asking me out on a date?”
“A date, as in some sort of social event? That sort of thing?”
“Are you?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Melanie chose not to respond, and Naomi realized she’d made a mistake. Her explanation had been too vague.
Fortunately, the obvious solution presented itself. If she made a reference to their previous discussion, Melanie would certainly pick up on it. “It’s related to what we talked about earlier.”
There was more silence.
“You remember. At the office?”
Silence.
“We talked about dinner,” Naomi prompted. “Do you remember?”
“Are you asking me out to dinner?”
“No.”
Melanie let out an extended sigh. “Why are you calling, Naomi?”
Naomi also experienced frustration. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you’d just come over to my apartment.” Her voice dropped to a confidential whisper. “Once you’re here, I could let you know what I really want.”
“I’m not coming to your apartment, Naomi.”
Frustration grew and multiplied. How else were they supposed to meet? “Fine. I’ll cut to the end. Are you familiar with the motel on Monroe Street?”
“I’m not staying the night with you at a damned motel!”
“You misunderstand. Not for the night. I’m guessing it shouldn’t take more than an hour.”
There was muffled swearing on the other end, and Naomi realized she’d made another mistake.
She delved into the database. It took only seconds to familiarize herself with the concept of motels. “Staying the night” was another way to indicate sleeping.
Her research netted an additional side benefit. “I’m guessing from the tone of your voice that you’re as frustrated as I am. Please, don’t be angry. I was only referring to the motel as a point of reference. There’s a warehouse close by, on the opposite site of the street.”
“I see.” Melanie’s voice sounded distant now. More subdued.
“Would you be willing to meet there?”
“What is this about?”
Naomi cursed the necessity of keeping her words vague, but didn’t see a way around it. “If things turn out the way I think they might, I’d like to have you near me. You implied you were available, that I could call you at any time.”
“This is about the whatever-it-is that was taken?”
Naomi winced at even the abstract reference. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you say that before? I’ll go.”
<
br /> “Very good. Shall we meet at the motel?”
The line clicked and went dead.
Chapter Twenty-One
This wasn’t the first time Kim and Angel had run into a virtual dead end. Despite being hired as investigators, neither were particularly skilled at investigation. And raw tenacity wasn’t the best substitute for training and talent.
It went without saying, however, that both knew exactly how to solve this problem. The device had led them this far; Kim and Angel never would have known about the warehouse without the vision. Using it again could provide another valuable clue.
Kim’s pulse raced as she watched her girlfriend sort through one of the numerous boxes. Given Angel’s sex drive, it surprised her that she hadn’t already brought it up.
No. On second thought, it wasn’t surprising. This was standard behavior for Angel. She’d pretend ignorance, and wait until Kim finally broke down. Then she would look like the pervert wanting sex all the time, and not Angel.
Kim fumed in silence. This was Angel’s mad obsession to find proof, to discover her history in order to decisively reject it in the name of romance. Why should she have to be the one suggesting how to solve it? Let Angel do it for once.
Using the device would be tantamount to admitting that they had no clue what they were doing, that they were nothing more than failures who couldn’t get anything accomplished without a convenient and literal plot device leading them to their next clue on a silver platter. She’d be no better than an impatient, frustrated gamer looking up a puzzle’s solution on the internet.
“I don’t think we’re going to find anything,” Kim ventured. “Ready to go?”
“I’m not ready to leave yet.” Angel pointed to the observation level above them with its assorted foliage. “What about up there?”
Kim didn’t answer. Angel had always been more of a romantic. It made sense she’d prefer a nature setting.
In the back of her mind, Kim had been entertaining hopes that her girlfriend wouldn’t be so brazen. “You’re not seriously suggesting we climb up there and . . .” Kim couldn’t bring herself to finish the statement.
Typical for Angel, she didn’t display even one iota of embarrassment. “Why not? It’s perfect. From that vantage point, we’d have a good view of the structure.”
Kim had her doubts. Angel’s suggestion was better than going for it in a broom closet, but she still balked at the idea. “It’s a little too exposed, don’t you think?”
“How exposed it is shouldn’t matter. All that matters is the view.”
“The view,” Kim repeated. “Seriously? That’s what’s important to you?”
“The alien device led us here for a reason. No one else is here. We shouldn’t let this opportunity to find out more information pass us by. Five minutes?”
“That’s barely enough time to get started,” Kim scoffed.
Angel frowned.
“Not that I’m complaining, or anything. Five minutes should be good. You really think the background setting matters all that much? The garden isn’t anything special.”
“It isn’t the garden itself. I don’t care about the garden. It’s the view.” Angel waved a hand at the balcony again, past the statue or monolith or whatever-it-was under all the wrapping.
Kim absently trailed her foot against the concrete floor. “I can’t believe I’m suggesting this, but why don’t we . . . do it here?”
“Do what here?”
Kim looked down at her feet. Her blush threatened to consume her.
“The second-floor windows are letting in the moonlight,” Angel observed. “We’d be able to see more.”
It was true, the second floor was better illuminated, but Angel had never struck her as a visually oriented type of girl. “Is this some sort of outdoors thing? A few fake trees isn’t going to cut it, if so.”
Angel seemed at a loss for what to say, and Kim felt a stab of guilt. Had she taken things too far? Angel was trying to make the best of an awkward situation. It wasn’t fair for her to keep shooting her down.
Perhaps I can indulge her this once.
“Okay. If you want. Let’s give it a shot.”
Now that it was decided, Kim focused on the task at hand. Before anything could happen, they needed to reach the second floor. Kim eyed the scaffolding with a critical eye. She wasn’t the best athlete in the world, but she’d played more than enough Tomb Raider over the years. This particular climbing puzzle shouldn’t be too difficult.
Kim pushed and pulled at the lowest rung. The metal seemed solid enough. She found a good handhold and pulled herself up.
The next stage would be tricky, but if she took a running leap, she could—
“Why don’t you take the stairs?” Angel suggested.
Or I could take the stairs.
Kim met Angel on the second floor. Angel brushed past her, heading straight to the railing at the edge. She stretched out, straining to reach the drop cloth that covered the giant-sized structure, but it remained elusively out of reach.
Kim didn’t see why Angel was bothering. The cloth texture didn’t appear to be of particularly high quality. Quite the opposite, in fact. She dreaded the thought of how horrible it would feel against her naked skin.
While Kim appreciated the gesture of a blanket of some sort rather than just the cold floor or hard plastic table, the cloth didn’t seem particularly clean. She simply couldn’t see how using it could keep them from becoming filthy.
Angel stretched out a little bit further. “I can almost reach it.”
Kim slid off her pants. The cool air did little to counter the heat of embarrassment. She tried to lose herself in the questionably romantic setting. The flowers seemed nice. The fake trees didn’t look entirely fake in passing, if one didn’t pay any attention to them. The only true selling point was the moonlight, a steady stream of illumination filtering in from the highest windows.
But none of it seemed to help. In the end, it was still a half-finished atrium.
Kim pulled her shirt off over her head and removed her bra and panties. Technically, neither one of them needed to be naked for this to work, but given Angel’s preferences and how both of them always seemed to end up naked anyway, she didn’t see the point of putting off the inevitable.
Angel stretched out further, her fingers brushing the cloth but still unable to grasp it.
Kim focused her attention on Angel. She really did have a cute ass, and most definitely looked exceptionally hot, stretching out over the balcony on her tiptoes.
Grinning mischievously, Kim slipped her hands around Angel and pulled her back from the edge. Her questing hands immediately told her two things: her girlfriend wasn’t wearing a bra, and the chilly night air was making that fact blatantly obvious.
“Leave it,” Kim whispered.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kim recognized that she was losing herself. What had started out as simple foreplay had escalated into something more. Had Angel lost sight of their original purpose? What about the next clue? Was Angel even planning on using the device at all?
Unfortunately, none of these objections were given a voice. The ability to form coherent sentences was always the first to go. Each time Kim made the attempt, her own brain hijacked the message into heated, whispered encouragements.
Kim couldn’t muster even a semblance of opposition. She felt she should be irritated, but it was only an abstract irritation. Even the act of being irritated at her lack of irritation was beyond her. Her eyes were too busy rolling into the back of her head, and she wasn’t about to interrupt Angel for anything.
Kim’s muscles tightened and spasms of ecstasy burst through her in a hot rush. She arched her back and groaned. Angel didn’t stop until the last of the tremors had ceased.
Now that it was over, Kim’s irritation became more than an abstract exercise. “The device,” she prompted.
“The sex toy?”
Kim squeezed her eyes shut. “Yes, the frea
king sex toy,” she hissed. “Weren’t you going to use it?”
“Oh. If you want.” Angel sorted through her clothing at her feet.
That sounded entirely too much like a guess to Kim. “Please tell me you were planning on using it.”
Angel produced the device. “I thought you’d want to avoid using it. The last time, you became paralyzed and had an adverse reaction.”
“How did you expect anything to happen if we didn’t?”
Angel blinked. “What do you mean? It did happen, Kim! I felt the tremors running through your entire body on my tongue. It was beautiful. Magical. Unlike at the condo, you made no attempt to stifle your reactions, and cried out loud enough to—”
“What was the point of this little exercise if it wasn’t to use that thing?”
“You’re upset.” Once again, Angel’s words sounded like a guess.
“Why did you want to come up here in the first place? The view?”
Angel chose to respond physically rather than verbally, and eased the device home. Kim promptly forgot what she’d been about to say. Her hands tightened their grip on the table. “What were you . . . this isn’t . . . oh . . . oh! Oh, God, Angel . . .”
Angel quickened the pace. “Perhaps we could discuss this . . . after?” she suggested with a wink.
Kim closed her eyes. Insufferable, sex-crazed alien pervert.
The vision hit her without warning.
It was the middle of the day, shortly after lunchtime. It had been raining off and on throughout the week. She’d been busy at work, checking up on the progress of . . . something.
Kim recognized her surroundings. It was the same warehouse, but far more crowded, brightly sunlit, and noisy. Teams of sweaty workmen were everywhere, doing various workman things.
Sounds of construction and indistinct conversation echoed in her ears. A commercial played in the background, letting the world know that now was the perfect time for a roast beef sandwich.
The mysterious object was revealed to be a three-sided steel monolith. Two sides were almost entirely covered in silver plaques half the size of a business card. The remaining side stood empty. Kim’s mind tried to make sense of what she was seeing. A monument of some sort? A memorial?
