Virtually His

by Gennita Low

  Yes. A dangerous woman. The man returned his gaze back to the screen. “Not if I look like that. She can’t do anything to me with that image in her head.”

  T. looked at the new image of the avatar. “Superspy. Remote viewing-trained. Combat-ready. And once she takes the drugs, she should be a supersoldier—fearless, with little capacity for emotion, and less need for sleep. You’ll probably be the only one holding on to her mind. Be gentle with her, hmm?”

  “I thought you said she would give me trouble?”

  “I just don’t know about the drugs. You never know with drugs. You, better than most, understand how that is. They’ve done things to you in your program. That’s why you’re a perfect balance. Guide her through her first mission and get her back safely.”

  “I’ve no intention of failing, T.,” he said softly. It wasn’t the guidance part of Mind Setter that would be the problem between him and Elena Rostova. It was getting her ready for him.

  “Okay, I put on these goggles and then he’s just going to be there?” Helen loosened her ponytail. She weighed the goggles in her hand. Lightweight plastic, malleable in feel. “We can talk and everything? Do we need to go to the CAVE to test this?”

  Dr. Kirkland, Dr. Hollingsworth’s second-in-command, shook his head and pointed to the virtual reality chair and equipment at the far corner of the room.

  “Not today. This is just a run-through and we thought we’d try out the new VR Portal. We’re going to monitor your heart rate and vital statistics. You can talk while we get both your brain waves in sync.”

  “Wait, he’s here somewhere? We aren’t using a simulated program?” Helen looked up at the doctor sharply. “Where?”

  “He’s in a similar test room, Miss Roston,” Dr. Kirkland said as he nodded to his assistant. “This is just a test to see whether the communication comes through.”

  “But it’s virtual reality.” Helen pretended to frown. She understood what was going to happen but it didn’t hurt to hear the doctor’s version of the truth.

  “The simulated reality is virtual but your trainer is real. You already know that. He has to be, or you won’t be able to get real instructions when you’re in your remote viewing state.”

  “Oh, I know I don’t see him—it’ll be my blond god but still, do I have to call him something?”

  “Miss Roston, we’ll get to that as soon as we start this program. Right now we don’t even know whether you two are in sync.”

  Helen grinned. “Doctor, I’m in control of this hottie in my head. How in sync do I need him to be?” Flyboy chuckled as the doctor tried to remain serious. She turned to Derek. “You make sure he’s still naked. I want to see the goods before I agree to have you guys mess my mind up with drugs.”

  The reference to the more serious aspect of the experiment brought a quick nervous nod from the young programmer. Helen gave him a soothing smile. Ironic, really. She was the one who might go psychotic and she had to comfort the poor guy. She looked at the goggles in her hand. This was it, the final phase before…

  She could feel her heart beating faster and she glanced up to see the doctor looking at her closely. Like she was some mouse in his lab, she bet. Oh well. She had agreed to this. She took in a deep breath. Fear, especially of the unknown, was normal.

  A beep distracted her. Flyboy reached for his back pocket. He gave a sigh. “Damn. I have to go, babe.” He stood up. “Call you later? Drinks? Massage?”

  Helen wrinkled her nose. “I have to go to philosophy class. Want to come along?”

  Flyboy shuddered. “You’re kidding me.”

  Her smile was devilish. “Come along and find out,” she invited.

  Flyboy shuddered again. “You win, Hell.” The beeper went off a second time. “Got to go. Later.”

  Helen nodded to Dr. Kirkland and held out her arm. She remained quiet as he read her statistics to his assistant. The goggles sat in her lap, their gleaming surface reflecting parts of her face. Such a little thing with such power. She had done VR before but this was going to be different. This time, unlike the CAVE, someone was going to be in her head. Remote viewing was weird enough. This was going to be one step more into her strange new role of supergirl.

  Fifteen minutes later, she was strapped into the sensor jacket, sitting on the VR chair. Derek looked at her expectantly. Dr. Kirkland adjusted the headgear.

  “Ready when you are, Miss Roston.”

  Helen nodded. “Ditto.”

  She knew what to expect. At first it would be dark, like a movie theatre. Without the sensor jacket, she could see a whole movie on a huge screen all in her head. Then, when they turned on the switch or whatever they called it, she would experience virtual reality in a training facility, all her movements guided by the sensors. It wouldn’t be the same without the CAVE’s special sen-surround elements, though.

  She’d been thinking a lot about this. The training in the CAVE was for him to test how her mind worked. That was why he kept pushing her buttons. That was why he was always in control. This time, in the Portal, it would be different; she would be controlling the missions with her remote viewing. It seemed that her secret trainer was preparing himself to deal with her.

  One more difference than the CAVE. He’d be closer now, too. He’d be in my mind. Anticipation squeezed the pit of her stomach.

  She glanced around in the darkness. A few seconds went by. “I don’t see anything,” she said out loud.

  “Hang on one more minute, Miss Roston,” Derek said in her right earpiece. “Still trying to get the signals right.”

  Helen rolled her eyes behind the goggles. Idiots. They were going to fry her brain cells before she got to see her yummy dream guy.

  Fried brain cells for a naked man in your head. Who’s the idiot?

  Helen jerked in her straps. Whoa. It was still dark, but that was definitely not her voice. There was no shadowy figure, though. She coughed. “I think I hear something,” she said out loud. “Derek?”

  “Okay. That’s good. Keep trying.”

  “Keep trying? Keep trying what? You’re the one who’s supposed to know what’s happening!”

  Silence. Helen waited for a moment, then sighed. Obviously the doctor had told Derek to shut up. She peered into the darkness. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Should she say hello out loud? Uh-uh. No way were they going to witness her making a fool of herself talking to nobody. She was going to think this conversation, see whether that worked. As in remote viewing with her guide during the CIA training sessions, she moved her lips and spoke silently. It usually took several minutes before the internal conversation became “normal” enough where she wouldn’t be aware of the need not to talk out loud.

  “Yoohoo!” she called, in her head. “Yoohoo, naked guy, wherever you are!”

  Silence.

  Helen made a face. “Dammit, I know that you can hear me!”

  “Thought you wanted to see me.”

  Great. She hated smart-asses.

  “Thought you liked my ass. You requested nice and tight, buns of steel, if I remember correctly.”

  Helen sat there, stunned for a second. Whoa. Wait a minute. He could read her thoughts. She had thought…

  “You had thought to have a conversation with me, which is how it’ll seem to be once they get all those electrodes to work correctly….”

  “Can you read every thought?” she asked fiercely, realization rapidly dawning on her. Damn. The brain wave synchronization. Of course he would be reading her thoughts. She was thinking this reality. The talking was virtual.

  “I’m your monitor, so in virtual reality land, I monitor your thoughts. I’m sure I’ll get to know you better as we continue this.”

  “Wait a minute!” A sudden burst of light caused Helen to blink, her eyes trying to focus. There was a strange humming in the back of her head, or maybe not, because it went away as soon as she tried to concentrate on it. Movement to her right. She turned.

  Oh, my. Naked guy at three o’cl
ock. He was exactly as she’d told Derek she wanted her trainer to look. She found that she could walk toward him as he stood there in all his glory. She gulped as she circled the magnificent man, checking out the details. He looked so real! This virtual reality program they were using was simply amazing.

  Facing her trainer, she gave him her trademark devilish grin. “Oh, yeah!” she whooped.

  “I gather you like me naked.”

  His voice had a sexy Southern drawl, just as she’d requested. Helen grinned again. “This is too cool for words,” she told him, smirking wickedly. “It’s good to finally see you. Don’t you like being naked?”

  He looked down at himself and a glimmer of a smile touched his beautiful lips. “It’s your program for now.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know. Once they get it all ready, I’m supposed to get all serious. But right now, you’re mine, mine, mine!” Helen badly wanted to touch him, but something stopped her from reaching out. She liked the idea of finally having him at a disadvantage. Cocking her head, she drawled, “But they didn’t say I couldn’t have you naked all the time, even if you’re training me.”

  “Won’t it be boring? Looking at this body all the time?” There was unmistakable laughter in that voice.

  “Hey, I made you, so how could I get bored of you so soon?” crooned Helen. She was getting more intrigued by the real man behind this. What other things could he teach her, besides the stuff they’d been doing in the CAVE? And what was his role?

  “More than you think.”

  She blinked in surprise again. She had to learn how to control her thoughts in here.

  “You’re quick. See, the first lesson’s almost over.”

  He reached out and touched her face. She felt his fingers caress the spot just below her earlobe. It felt real, just like in the CAVE.

  Which reminded her—she smacked his hand away. “I want to know something. I—” Looking at him, she found she couldn’t talk seriously to a man standing so nonchalantly naked in front of her. She swallowed, trying to recapture her irritation. “I want to know something about that first night.”

  “What would you like to know?” He didn’t seem puzzled about which night.

  “What if I hadn’t guessed that it was some kind of virtual reality program? Would you have…continued?”

  “Taking your clothes off, you mean? Touching you?”

  He was blunt. Helen hadn’t wanted to say those words. She shrugged. She still hadn’t reconciled with the knowledge that she’d been turned on by that phantom kiss. “Yes,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  She glared at him. “Even if I’d said no?”

  “You hadn’t,” he pointed out. “If you remember, you said you’d kill me, but not once did you say ‘stop’ or ‘no.’ So yes, I’d have continued.”

  He was right. She’d been furious—both at her response to his kiss and then at his intimate touching. “Would you if I had?” she insisted.

  “Yes. It was a test, Elena. Either you pass or fail it.”

  He lifted his hand and caressed the side of her face again. A shiver ran down her spine.

  “What name should I call you?” Could one sound breathless in one’s mind? His fingers tickled sensuously. She could feel a frisson of awareness sliding like silk against her skin. She’d gotten used to him touching her. She should be mad as hell at what he’d put her through, but now wasn’t the time to challenge his way of introducing himself. After all, Dr. Kirkland was trying to get the goggles to work right. She was sure she’d foul up their equipment testing if she started kicking Naked Guy’s ass.

  “You choose.” There was mockery now in that voice, too, as if he’d read her mind again.

  “No, you choose.” She wanted to see how clever he was.

  He leaned closer and she swore she could smell cologne on the man. This was freaking unbelievable. His breath even tickled her ear. “Hades,” he whispered. “And you’ll come when I call.”

  He snapped his fingers. There was that humming again and the lighting in the room dimmed.

  “Miss Roston? We’re done for now. Please stand by while we take each sensor off.”

  Hey, wait a minute! Where did he go? It was over? Helen looked around as the place returned to darkness. She hadn’t even checked him out thoroughly yet! “Hey, you!”

  Of course he didn’t answer. It was strange as she sat there, seeing nothing, trying to grasp the memory of what just happened. Damn. It left her feeling bereft. Hades. Hell and Hades. Damn smart-ass.

  The goggles came off and she blinked again, her eyesight focusing back on Derek the programmer. He looked extremely pleased, as if something grand had happened. Oh yeah, of course. They had managed to sync brain waves today. Yippeedo.

  “How was the avatar, Miss Roston? Everything like you ordered?” he asked.

  Helen sniffed. She didn’t like the way it had ended. She was the one in charge still, wasn’t she? He was still her naked guy.

  She shook her head as they freed her from the straps and sensors and whatnots. She swerved the seat toward the computer. Mr. Hades was going to get a big surprise.

  “Not quite,” she said and tossed Derek a wicked look. “I found him lacking in the size department. I want to make some parts bigger.”

  She had been watching Derek earlier and with her photographic memory, she repeated a sequence of typing on the keyboard. Then she played with the mouse and watched the cursor on the screen follow her movements.

  She hated to admit it. Those times in the CAVE, when he’d chosen to put her in roles where she felt dominated, pushing at all her hot buttons, testing her emotions as if he wanted to learn how to switch her on and off, had sometimes left her feeling vulnerable. She didn’t like that at all, and the bastard knew it. She knew he was testing her mental strength, to see how far she would allow him to go.

  She wrinkled her nose. She was going to push some buttons herself. Her forefinger tapped on one of the keys several times. And a few more. She laughed in naughty satisfaction. Revenge was satisfyingly sweet.

  “Hell, yeah!”

  Three

  Philosophy class was an odd course for them to inflict on her. After all, thinking too deeply would affect action. Analysis paralysis, that was one of her Special Ops. trainer’s favorite sayings.

  “You start thinking about how dark it is in there, you’ve already lost half the battle, Roston,” he’d said, during one session when she had to belly-crawl into a pitch-black tunnel. “There’s active anticipation of danger and there’s passive anticipation. The second type will get you killed.”

  But they insisted on philosophy classes at the Center. Helen hadn’t thought she would enjoy them. She wasn’t particularly interested in logic and reasoning; she reasonably explained to the tutor that if she had any logical brain cells at all, she wouldn’t have signed up for this experiment in the first place. Everyone had laughed at the workshop.

  However, the sessions weren’t entirely useless. There was a method to their madness, she supposed. Command Center definitely had a different approach. Analysis, Helen found, was used to paralyze latent emotions, such as fear and anger.

  She understood that fear could be a major stumbling block in the coming experiment. It could defeat her. It was important therefore that she learn to shape her fears into something tangible so she could overcome them.

  Helen was getting so damn good at pretending, it should scare her. But it didn’t, really. Fear, as they had told her from the beginning, would eventually be under her control.

  She applied fresh lipstick in the restroom, and made a face. She’d learned at GEM that reality had many faces. Often, what one saw in front of oneself was just part of the truth. What mattered most was the hidden agenda.

  She knew from day one that she was different. She’d sensed the danger behind the reality around the friendly strangers who’d approached her, but food was a powerful tempter to a hungry kid. She had options—accept the food and go with those nice GEM age
nts or remain alone. Hunger could conquer anything, even fear. And something about the whole thing gnawed at her, so she’d followed them. And here she was.

  Unanswered questions. Looking for the unvarnished truth. That was her driving force in life.

  Pulling her loose hair into a ponytail, she fluffed the bangs away from her forehead. Her hand wandered on its own to the spot below her earlobe. How did he know she liked to be touched there?

  That irritated her. She didn’t mind being psychoanalyzed by their team of head doctors; she was trained in NOPAIN—nonphysical persuasion and innovative negotiation—and she could easily evade questions she didn’t want to answer. She had even grown comfortable with them staring at her through their microeyes; it was in her contract. She had known when she’d agreed to this experiment that her life wasn’t going to be hers again. What was it Enrique always told her? Ya gotta let the big boys think they’re bigger and stronger before you can whoop their ass, Elena. She smiled at the memory of the older punk boy who was her sometime companion. At fifteen, Enrique—a name he’d chosen for himself—was more grown-up than most kids his age. Street wisdom still made a lot of sense in her world.

  Her smile turned into a frown. She hadn’t counted on someone knowing little things like her erogenous zones, though. Again she wondered about this trainer behind the avatar. Was he anything like her creation? Did he remote view, too? And if so, how far along was he? Her training hadn’t taken her into some of the higher levels she’d read about—the government was too eager to try her out.

  Helen looked at her reflection. She had to admit that letting her create her trainer’s avatar was insidiously clever. Psychologically, she would immediately have an innate response to him already. Maybe it was one of their tricks, to make her assume that it was a man—

  Nah. Hades sounded too much like a man. A woman wouldn’t have said those last lines. She closed her eyes, recalled the scene in her mind with the quick vividness that was now so familiar…

  Her instincts rose like a radar. Her eyes flew open.