She'd intended to find out things about him that would make him more of a person and less scary, but instead she was more intimidated than before.
The file on vampires was a good twenty pages long, and she didn't especially want to be in the file room after hours given what a long day she'd already had, so she sent it to the printer while she looked over a few of the smaller documents that remained. Most of it was cryptic, or at least uninteresting compared to the rest.
She grabbed the printed pages and stuck them in her jacket. She really was going to have to see about replacing her laptop. Frog could probably help her decide what kind; they had a government employee discount with most companies, but since the base ran on a Mac system--and that was whom Frog had worked for, once--that might be the way to go. Then she could email herself files, or at least transfer them to a flash drive and take it back to her quarters to violate everyone's privacy in private.
Really, though, everything she'd found so far was a matter of record, not terribly personal. She surmised that this Duvalier person had been Jason's lover, but that based purely on her own reasoning. Why kill 15 people in revenge unless you were in love with the one they'd murdered? The official history hadn't given her any really juicy details, including one that was really baffling her: if Jason and Duvalier had been a couple, where did that leave Beck? Why turn her into a vampire too? Were they some kind of weird incestuous threesome? She hadn't gotten that "keep it in the family" vibe off the twins when they'd met, but still, they were well-shielded. The thought made her queasy, and it wasn't exactly logical if Jason was gay, but it was possible that his reputation was partly to keep people from asking awkward questions about his sister.
Ugh. Sara didn't like where her thoughts were going, and her eyes were starting to hurt from spending too much time at a monitor that day, so she logged out and left the file room with her report on the nature of vampires safely in her jacket. She stopped at the shredder to dispose of the little blue piece of evidence, then clocked out and made for the elevators.
*****
"Um…you didn't read my file, did you?"
Sara chuckled. "Yeah, I did, and I have to say that thing about you and the sheep was really surprising."
Frog turned seven kinds of red and made a face at her. "Liar. You didn't read mine."
"Nah. The only ones I'm really interested in are the nonhumans. And maybe Ness, if I can get into her file. She's probably got even more security on hers."
"You know I should really report you for this kind of shit," Frog pointed out, gesturing at her with his fork. "It's illegal, and totally against policy."
"Whatever. The Agency spies on people. It's got a file on me going back years. All this proves is that I have the right mindset."
They were sitting in the cafeteria--although that was really a harsh word for what was in reality a very nice place. It was set up more like a restaurant than some institutional chow line, and had self-serve bars as well as hot lines for the entrées of the day. She'd popped by Frog's to see if he wanted to join her for dinner and bring his Mac catalogue.
She'd felt oddly protective of Frog since the explosion in Lab #4, but he'd come out of the accident none the worse for wear and was already back at work, albeit in a different room. The lab itself would take weeks, and millions of dollars, to rebuild. The only things that had been spared the blast were those that were in the wall vaults, including Frog's inhibitor. He'd been more worried about the device than his own body afterward.
She sighed, looking at the huge plate of macaroni and cheese in front of her. "I guess I'm going to have to start eating actual vegetables and stuff if they're going to turn me into an Agent."
"They'll probably have a plan for that too," Frog said. "Carlos is big into nutrition, I hear."
"So what do Naiads eat? And Elves?"
"Dru eats a lot of fish and sea vegetables--you know, kombu and kelp and stuff. Loves sushi. But she also really loves potatoes, for some reason. I think it's kind of like ice cream for her. Rowan's pretty much a vegan but I don't know if that's an Elf thing or a him thing."
"How do they feed the vampires?"
"The Agency has a contract with the Blood and Tissue Center, so they get human blood delivered twice a week, fresh. It's given directly to the twins, though, not here. I'm kind of grateful for that. Don't know if I could watch."
"You don't mind the blood coming out of that steak," she pointed out.
Frog looked thoughtful, then nodded and took another bite. "Good point. I just hope the vampires don't like to sop theirs up with garlic bread when they're done."
"Oh, gross." Sara laughed. "I wonder if that garlic thing is just a legend--I'm going to read through that file tonight and see what it says about all that stuff."
"Cool, you'll have to tell me what you find."
"Deal, if you tell me what to buy." She tapped the catalogue. "Keep in mind I'm on a budget here."
Frog, who was as zealous as any other Mac devotee, launched into the merits of various models and why she was better off with one versus another, and she listened with half attention, watching the ebb and flow of the people in the cafeteria. Finally she got him to just circle what she needed.
"So are you excited?" Frog asked when that was dealt with.
Sara stabbed a noodle and turned it this way and that, as if she were looking at her own fate, plus cheese sauce. "I don't know. I was, but now…I don't know. On the one hand it sounds so great… I love the thought of being able to use my talents for something that could actually help people. But…then there's the whole danger and guns thing, and…the psychic guy they had before me died, did you know that?"
"Yeah. I heard. But you know how he died, right? Did Ness tell you?"
"No. He got shot or something, I guess."
Frog laughed. "He got hit by a bus. Seriously. He snuck out of the base without leave to get drunk on 6th and tried to walk across Congress totally wasted."
"You're joking."
"Nope. The last hardcore psychic to get killed in the line of duty was about thirty years ago. They protect you guys, Sara. Do you know how hard it is to find anyone with a talent over level 4? That's why Rowan and I are working so hard on the inhibitor. About one in a hundred people can hit a 3 on at least one gift, but one in ten thousand goes over 4. Someone who can read stuff by touch like you is probably one in a million."
"Wow." Sara sipped her iced tea, a bit taken aback. "Hit by a bus. That's really…lame."
"I know. Ness was super pissed."
They finished their meal in companionable silence, but then Sara looked up at the clock on the far end of the room. "Damn. I should probably get to bed soon," she said as she savored the last bite of her macaroni. "I've got tests and psychic hoo-hah tomorrow, and I have no idea what to expect."
"Well, congratulations anyway," Frog said with a lopsided grin. "I knew you'd get drafted into the Agent program eventually. I think it's awesome."
"Why, because I'll do a good job?"
The grin widened. "No, because it means Frank in Lab Three owes me ten bucks."
*****
"L-27," she muttered, wandering up one corridor and down another. "Where the fuck is L?" The ground-level rooms were either numbered, as in the staff quarters, or they started with G. There were no L's anywhere. All the sub-surface rooms started with SS.
"Why isn't there anyone else walking around this time of day?" Sara demanded of the empty air. "And where the hell am I?"
Up until now the maps she'd been provided with had been lifesavers. They were drawn perfectly, except for the fact that L-27 didn't seem to exist. The ground level was a big square donut, with staff quarters on the north and south sides, and rooms with various other purposes on the east and west. The east and west rooms were designated G-1 through G-26. There wasn't even a G-27, so she could think that Jason had told her wrong.
"G-22, G-23…" She followed the numbers with her finger on the diagram, going around in circles without tak
ing a step. Conference rooms, lounges, the audio/visual theater where big presentations and Staff Movie Nights were held…a couple of hallways leading to the open space at the center of the building…
What was at the center, anyway?
She scrutinized the diagram. There was a large round shape, and an ameba shape, kind of like one of those kidney bean swimming pools.
"The pool!" she said. "Dru lives by the pool! And the pool is across from the labyrinth!"
She ducked down one of the hallways to the center, pushed open the door, and stepped out into the blinding sun.
She'd barely been outside since coming to the SA; staff were allowed to leave the base, but only if they checked out, so they could be found in an emergency. A lot of field trips went on for staff members both to encourage bonding and discourage association with outsiders. It was best for all concerned if those who worked here didn't have a lot of ties with reality.
The interior of the main building was a gigantic courtyard about the size of the Floor five stories below it. It was landscaped as a park, complete with paths and huge oak trees that had probably been there since before the base was built. To her far left, beyond a fence, was the pool. A sign on the wall bore its designation, P-28, and an arrow toward it. According to the sign, in the opposite direction, was L-27.
The labyrinth.
Sara followed one of the paved paths among the trees and shrubs, past an absolutely gorgeous herb garden that smelled like a Witch's paradise, and through a border of rosemary bushes that opened onto a wide, circular plain. Sure enough, it was a labyrinth, laid out in flat round stones interspersed with grasses.
She'd walked labyrinths before; they were an excellent meditation tool, and could be found at botanical gardens, monasteries, and even hospitals all over the place. One had only to consider one's problem or prayer and allow it to ferment while walking the twisting paths, trusting that by the time the center was reached, an answer would present itself, or at least the questioner would feel more grounded.
Well, one thing was for sure--after four hours of standardized tests in a freezing cold room, followed by a maddening trek all over the building, she sure as shit needed to ground.
Sara found the entrance easily enough, but as soon as she stepped on the path to get a closer look, she felt a strange humming start in her feet, not quite a vibration, but electrical in its way. The hum traveled slowly up through her body, and it seemed that the air over the labyrinth shimmered with heat…no, with energy.
There was power here. A lot of it.
And it was waiting for her.
She took a deep breath and started walking, trying not to think of anything in particular. As she followed the path deeper in, she felt herself slipping into a trancelike state, her mind slowing down, her feet and their motion the only things that mattered. Her psychic barriers parted very gently, and she felt something…or someone…move through her, head to toe, root to crown, examining, evaluating, weighing her in ways she couldn't quantify.
In any other situation she might have felt threatened, or at least invaded, by the energy, but her whole being felt at ease, trusting the power that touched her so gingerly, as if she were made of spun glass. Everywhere the energy moved, she felt a familiar sensation of comfort that could very easily tip into arousal; it was as though fingers were trailing over her skin, from the inside. She hadn't felt that kind of tickle in a very, very long time.
To her disappointment, she soon reached the center. There she paused, unsure whether she should walk back out the way she'd come, or wait.
[One moment, please,] came a voice she knew, and she smiled.
As she watched, mouth dropping open in astonishment, the stones in front of her moved, shifting so that the path opened up to lead her straight out of the labyrinth.
On the far end was an enormous oak tree that she hadn't even noticed before, and sitting underneath it, reclining against the bark, was SA-5.
"Hi," she said as she approached.
"Good afternoon," he replied, gesturing for her to sit.
"You built this," she said. "It's incredible."
"Thank you. I find that it's much easier to test people if they're relaxed."
"So what did you test me for? Did I pass?"
"I should say so." She saw that he had her file, and a clipboard, and had been filling out yet another form. "Psychometry, also known as contact clairvoyance, level 7. Telepathy, level 5. Empathy, level 3.75, possibly 4 with further training. General psychic ability--that means anything we can't really categorize--3."
"How high do the levels go?"
"Ten is the highest in existence," he replied, and her heart did a cartwheel. "Anything level 8 or above, however, is crippling and requires such heavy shielding that most people with that great a power end up classified as insane and locked away before they can be trained. The average human tops out at about 3 on everything. The SA requires a 4 or above in telepathy for Agents due to our communication system."
"If you don't mind my asking--"
He smiled. "I'm a level 6 telepath and a level 9 empath. General ability, level 5."
"Holy shit. No wonder you don't get out much."
"My people are capable of controlling those levels pretty easily. It's part of who we are. Humans for the most part deny the existence of psychic ability, so when they have it, it's either blocked off while young or goes rogue."
"So am I that high up because I'm a Witch, or am I a Witch because I'm that high up?"
"That's a question you'd have to ask yourself, Sara. My jurisdiction is how we proceed with what you have. Now, your basic shields are very good; I'm not as concerned with that as I am with you learning to use your gifts actively. The SA is most in need of your ability to read objects and locations. It's my opinion that we need to fully train all of your gifts; empathy in particular can be…very debilitating if allowed to run amok."
"This is going to be hard, isn't it?" she sighed. "Months and months of mind-breaking work. Just learning to meditate without writing grocery lists in my head took a year."
Rowan laughed, and she felt the sound in places she probably shouldn't have. God, she needed to get laid before things got out of hand.
"Actually compared to learning to shoot a gun or use the Ears, this will be very easy. With your consent, I can step into your mind and implant the knowledge you need directly. It takes several weeks of sessions to be sure your energy doesn't burn out, but there's really not a lot of effort involved until afterward. I'll give you exercises to do daily--a workout regimen, if you will--to keep yourself sharp."
"How come you can't teach people to use the Ears that way too?"
"I don't fully understand the technology," he admitted with a shrug. "I've never learned how it works because I don't teach it. And most of the time, when I train someone, we have to do it the old fashioned way. You, Sara, are strong enough to make my job easier as well as your own."
"Wow. I mean…damn. I had no idea. I mean, I've been able to do stuff all my life, but I had no idea."
"A testament to your shielding," Rowan observed. "You've been able to keep your energy under control even though you couldn't do a fourth of what was possible with it." Something dark she couldn't interpret crossed his face briefly. "I envy you."
"So…what happens now?" she asked.
He shook his head and the lightness returned to his eyes. "I send this to SA-7 with my recommendations, and he takes that, your other test results, and whatever Carlos comes up with tomorrow, and creates a training schedule for you. I'll probably see you five days a week for the next two or three weeks, then three times a week after that, tapering off to once a week until you're certified as an Agent."
"God, I'd forgotten about that. Exercise and I have never been more than nodding acquaintances. I'm dreading that almost as much as I am the whole weapons thing. Speaking of which…you're officially an SA, right?"
"Yes. And yes, I can shoot a gun. No, I've never killed anyone in the lin
e of duty. Very few Agents have, when all is said and done."
She would have disagreed, having read Jason's file, but she didn't want to give herself away. "Good. That makes me feel better."
"We're not all gun-toting lunatics like the Adams twins," he said wryly. "However…on the few occasions when I've left the base, I've always requested SA-7 as my bodyguard. I'd trust him, and Beck, with my life before anyone else."
She thought about Jason's password and the bag on his desk, but again, said nothing.
"For now, you're free to go and finish out your day however you like," Rowan said. "If you have any questions about the work we'll do together, or need anything at all, my quarters are #117, in the southwest corner of the building."
The Agency, Volume I Page 8
