by J. Bryan
Chapter Thirty-Two
A guard appeared at the narrow window in the steel door to Seth’s cell. “You have a visitor,” the man’s voice said over the intercom. “She’s eager to see you.”
Seth stood up and started for the door, but the guard ordered him to sit back down. Seth returned to the edge of his bed. It had been a long, slow day, broken only by the arrival of breakfast (toast and canned pineapple) and lunch (toast and beans). The guards slid his food trays through a very narrow panel at the bottom of the door, shoving it deep inside his cell with something like a broomstick. Seth always had to catch his tray before it hit the wall and spilled all over his floor.
The days were otherwise extremely long and slow—he kept refusing to cooperate with the secretive government agency that had captured them, and in return he had nothing to read, no television, nothing to do except sit in his cell and wait for nothing to happen. His only diversion was looking through all of his new past-life memories, learning about times he’d lived in nineteenth-century London, in the Italian Renaissance, the Middle Ages. He’d often been cast as a kind of sorcerer or witch doctor. He’d also spent a number of lives as a nearly invincible warrior, leading armies into conquest, quickly recovering from countless arrow and sword wounds, which his men naturally saw as a sign of divine favor, spurring them on to fight harder.
Seth and Jenny had both resolved to never to be used as weapons again.
Now, he waited anxiously as the door slowly opened, hoping that they’d sent Jenny to see him for some reason. He was disappointed when Mariella entered instead, and the guard slammed the door behind her.
“Seth!” Mariella ran toward him, and he stood and awkwardly accepted her hug as she pressed herself against him.
“Have you seen Jenny?” Seth asked.
“No...they wouldn’t let me see her.” She looked up at him. “But I’ve been doing their tests, and they’re happy enough that I could ask for one privilege. I told them I wanted to see you.”
“You did?”
“Of course. I needed to see you....I needed a friend. And you always make feel so safe.” She looked up at him and brushed her fingers through his hair. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“I’m glad you’re okay. I just wish I knew what they were doing with Jenny.”
“I’m sure Jenny’s fine.”
“How can you know that?”
“We’re fine, aren’t we?” Mariella smiled and touched his cheek. “They haven’t hurt us, so I don’t think they’d hurt her, either. If they wanted us dead, they wouldn’t have bothered bringing us all this way.”
“And I wish I knew how the baby was doing,” Seth said. He’d worried constantly about Jenny losing this one, just as she’d lost all of them in past lives. He knew it was useless to hope, but he hoped more than anything else for a better outcome this time. He needed the baby to live—he could not imagine what life would be like if they lost it.
“You’re under a lot of strain,” Mariella said softly, tracing her finger down his cheek to the corner of his lip. “So am I. That’s why I begged them to let me see you. I need you, Seth.” She rose up on her toes and tried to kiss him, but Seth dodged it.
“What are you doing?” he asked, stepping back from her until his legs bumped against his bed. She moved closer, cornering him.
“I think you know.” Mariella wrapped her hands behind his neck and kissed him along the cheek. “Play along, they’re watching,” she whispered. Her fingers drifted down along his muscular stomach, brushing the front of his orange prisoner jumpsuit.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Pretend to cooperate,” Mariella whispered. “It’s our best chance to find a way out.”
“I won’t even think about working with them until I’m with Jenny again.” Seth looked up at the black dome in the ceiling. “Tell them that.”
“Cooperating is the smart choice,” Mariella told him, not bothering to whisper now. “If you don’t work with them, you’ll never get out of here.”
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Seth said. “Tell them I have to see Jenny, or I’ll make sure everyone suffers. Especially Ward.”
Mariella pulled back from him, looking angry.
“You’re making the wrong choice,” she told him.
“How can you be so sure you’re making the right one?” Seth asked.
“Just remember I tried to help you.” Mariella glanced at the black camera dome as she left. “I did my part. I can’t be responsible for what happens to you if you don’t listen to me.”
“I’ll remember,” Seth said. “I’ll remember you turned on us the first chance you got.”
She had a hurt look in her eyes as she knocked on the door for the guards to let her out.
“You don’t understand anything, Seth,” she said.
“I understand enough,” he replied. When she was out the door, he let out the breath he’d been holding.
He was glad Mariella had left so quickly, because her visit had stirred up too much of what had happened in the past and the confused feelings he still had for her. Mariella would be remembering those things, too, if she’d recovered her past-life memories like Seth.
* * *
Niklaus knocked as he pushed open the door to Sebastian’s room. The young S.S. officer with the cold gray eyes looked without comment on the issue of Amazing Stories that Sebastian was re-reading for the tenth time. No more American pulp fiction could be brought to the base, under the irritating new guidelines that allowed only “fine German culture,” such as films of Adolf Hitler addressing huge crowds, which Sebastian hadn’t learned enough German to understand. Sebastian could so far only understand some common, simple words and phrases.
“Pack your bag,” Niklaus said in German. “You’re moving rooms.”
“Why?”
“Orders,” Niklaus replied. “Move now.”
“Where am I going?” Sebastian asked, standing up.
“Other room.”
“That’s very helpful, thank you.” Sebastian packed his clothes and meager belongings into the suitcase he’d bought with Barrett’s money in Charleston. It matched Juliana’s, because she’d picked them out.
Niklaus took him past the double doors to the female dormitory hall, then unlocked a third pair of double doors. Sebastian had never seen them open before.
“What’s in there?” Sebastian asked.
“Other room,” Niklaus said again.
The mysterious third hallway had fewer rooms, just three doors on each side. Niklaus took him into the first door, into a room much larger than Sebastian’s previous dorm room. It was also carpeted, furnished with a fireplace, a dining table, a sofa and ottoman, and hung with paintings. Candles burned in sconces along the wall, and soft chamber music played on a phonograph. It was, Sebastian, could not deny, a much nicer room.
The bed was queen-sized and hung with curtains. Mia and Alise sat on the bed, holding hands and smiling at him.
“Sebastian!” Alise hopped to her feet, and Mia followed, still grasping her hand. “Do you like it? I decorated it myself.”
“It’s nice,” Sebastian said. “Why am I here?”
“Because you’ve been so good,” Alise said. “Everyone is pleased with what you’ve shown them in the lab. I know I’m impressed! They say you have real power in your hands.” She giggled, looking him over.
“I’m glad they’re glad,” Sebastian said. “But I still don’t understand.”
“Then let me explain.” Alise held onto Mia with one hand, and with the other, she took Sebastian’s hand. “You see, when you’re good, you get rewarded. You’ve both been very good, going along with all these pesky tests without complaining. So you both deserve a little fun.”
Sebastian’s body filled with a hot, tingling glow. Mia filled his mind, her smoldering dark hair, her sea-green eyes, every curve of her body perfect. He could only think of his aching need to touch her, so strong that his toes actually curled in
side his socks.
“Don’t you each see something you want?” Alise pulled them closer together, then circled them, counterclockwise, wrapping their arms around each other as their eyes shared a hungry gaze. “Could you ever want anyone more than you want each other?” she whispered.
Sebastian and Mia pulled closer together, until they could feel each other’s bodies through their clothes. Alise touched the backs of their heads and pressed them together until they kissed.
“Love each other,” Alise whispered.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“Eight of diamonds,” Mariella said.
She sat at a table in one of the big concrete laboratories, next to a divider wall. A small hole in the wall allowed her to hold hands with the person on the other side. At the moment, that was a nineteen-year-old African-American girl. Like most of the subjects ASTRIA trucked in for this kind of testing, she was an Army soldier recently out of basic training. Mariella couldn’t see her, but she knew the girl was sitting in front of a deck of cards, slowly turning them over one at a time. Mariella had to predict the next card before the girl turned it.
A few men and women in white coats watched her from across the room, while Ward watched from the window above.
“Correct,” a lab assistant said, and she couldn’t help smiling a little. Numbers and letters were difficult to see in her visions of the future, but she always saw things more clearly the nearer they were in time. Over weeks of testing, she’d shown a ninety-one percent success rate at seeing the cards, if the other subject was female, and an eighty-seven percent success rate if she was holding hands with a male soldier instead. Interestingly, and embarrassingly, her rate of accurate predictions dropped to seventy-four percent when she was physically attracted to the soldier in question, as revealed by all her intimate heart, breathing, and brainwave data, which everyone in the room could see on the monitors.
“Ten of clubs,” she said.
“Correct.”
“Jack of spades.”
“Correct.”
“Three of hearts.”
“Correct...”
When the day’s tests were finally done, Mariella was met outside the lab by a pair of guards in body armor. Instead of escorting her back to her own residential area, though, they took her up to the administrative level and right to Ward’s office. He didn’t rise, only stared at her with his feral green eyes as she walked in.
“Did you want to see me, General Kilpatrick?” she asked Ward.
“How did it go with Seth?” he asked, though he certainly knew.
“Not good. It’s going to take more time.”
“You were supposed to win him over,” Ward said.
“In one try?” she asked.
“He’s young and stupid. You assured me it would not be a problem.”
“General Kilpatrick, sir, it’s nothing to seduce a man...but taking his heart requires time. His girlfriend is pregnant. His feelings can’t be changed in a day.”
“In this line of work, we only care about results,” Ward told her. “We don’t care how you get them. Try harder.”
“I will, sir.”
Mariella left, feeling frustrated. She understood why Seth wouldn’t want to cooperate with Ward, but it was their only real choice for now. They weren’t going to get anywhere if they stayed caged up in the cellblock. Why couldn’t he see it? Why couldn’t he at least pretend to play along? Stubborn, stupid boy.
She told herself that her real frustration didn’t come from the part of her that hoped to touch him again, the part of her that wanted to put her own feelings ahead of Jenny’s. She didn’t want to acknowledge any of those feelings, but they kept troubling her anyway.
* * *
Mia couldn’t stop kissing Sebastian, and kissing wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy her. She grabbed at his shirt and tried to push it up, then grew frustrated and ripped it open instead, little buttons raining down on the carpet at her feet. Her hands went to his bare chest and down his stomach. His skin was radiant, like gold...the entire world seemed washed in a golden fog, and all she could think about was the hungry desire that threatened to consume her if she didn’t get even closer to him, feeling his healing touch all over his skin.
His warm hands slid up the backs of her thighs, raising her dress. He lifted it up to her waist, and she eagerly held up her arms so he could take it all the way off. She reached her arms behind herself and unlatched the heavy brass hook on her bra, which was stiff and starched and concealed half her torso.
“Enjoy each other,” Alise said, her voice like a distant echo that barely registered in Mia’s brain. Mia had entirely forgotten that Alise and Niklaus were still there. Mia paid them no attention as they looked at each other and laughed, and she didn’t think of them again after they left and closed the door. Her need for Sebastian filled her body and mind.
She giggled as he threw on her the bed and then lay down beside her. She lost all sense of time as they kissed, her hands exploring the taut muscles of his body while his fingers moved up her stomach, pulled her loosened bra aside, and touched her hard, swollen nipples.
Her hands found their way to the front of his trousers and pulled until they broke open. She reached inside, taking his hard length in her hand.
He made a kind of growling sound and rolled her on her back, and she hurried to take off her underwear. When he lay between her legs, she put him inside of her.
Every part of him felt good, radiating his healing power. She felt like a miniature sun had flared to life between her hips, scorching her from the inside.
She whispered again and again that she loved him, she loved him, she loved him...
Chapter Thirty-Four
Tommy looked over the two rows of eight soldiers each, more of the kids just out of basic training, standing ramrod-straight in their fatigues, their faces blank. Their last order had been to stand at attention, and then the officers and scientists had all left the room, sealing them in with Tommy.
“So, what are you guys afraid of?” Tommy asked. None of them replied, and he smirked. “Going to war? Getting your arm or your head blown off, maybe? What about your families back home? Your parents? Do you worry about horrible things happening to them? Nobody’s talking.”
“They won’t reply unless ordered to,” Ward said over the speaker. He watched from the window above, not bothering to dim the lights to make the window look black and empty.
“That’s no fun,” Tommy said. “Let’s liven things up. Ready?”
“Go ahead, Tommy,” Ward instructed.
Tommy took a deep breath, remembering what he’d done in Charleston the night he’d caused the riot. His power had been charged up by contact with his opposite, Ashleigh, but she’d been dead for quite awhile now. He didn’t exactly miss her, though he’d learned a lot from her.
The fear wouldn’t be as strong today, without Ashleigh around, but he only had sixteen people to panic this time, not hundreds or thousands. He’d had an extra-large breakfast to prepare for this, and he knew he’d be starving again afterward.
Tommy summoned the fear, a chaotic blood-red energy that teemed with incoherent voices, whispers and screams that brought flickers of his childhood and his abuse at the hands of Mr. Tanner. He imagined himself charging up like a battery, until the fear was like a thrashing hurricane inside him.
He exhaled, and a storm of bloody droplets blew out of him, raining down on the soldiers and absorbing into their skin. They flinched but remained at attention. He smiled and crossed his arms, waiting.
It didn’t take long. First a couple of them began to shudder, and then one screamed, and then hell broke loose. The soldiers scattered, some of them hiding under tables and chairs, some tucking themselves into corners, three of them falling to the floor and curling up right in the center of the lab. They were crying, howling, shrieking, swatting and kicking at invisible attackers that existed only in their minds, babbling mindlessly at scenes of unknown horror visible on
ly to them.
Tommy looked up at the window and grinned. In a few seconds, he’d turned the lab into the rec room at a state mental hospital, soldiers howling and hiding, a couple of them fighting each other. In the window, Ward beamed, while the officer who’d brought in the young soldiers was livid to see how quickly Tommy had scattered them.
“I’d say the enemy ranks are broken, sir,” Tommy said to him. “Who’s up for a couple of beers?”
The other officer stalked away, while Ward nodded and gave Tommy a thumbs-up.
After the test, a guard escorted Tommy back to his dorm area, standard procedure for all paranormals.
Tommy hadn’t told anyone, but each time he used his power in the lab, it kicked up the sick, disoriented feeling that this entire place evoked in him, sometimes making him see ghosts or hallucinations. He locked himself in his room and opened a can of Warsteiner. He guzzled the warm beer, hoping it might settle his stomach.
He heard the creaking sound of his door opening behind him. He turned to see Ashleigh there, dressed in a long black skirt and jacket, with a black tie and a crisp white shirt. His room had shifted to a drab olive color, too. It was his recurring dream, the bizarre one where he wore a swastika and answered to the name Niklaus. The hallucinations were back. Fortunately, he held a beer in the dream, too, though the can had a much plainer label and was the kind that had to be punctured with a bottle opener. He took a drink as Ashleigh’s gray eyes looked him over. Her name was Alise, but she had Ashleigh’s eyes, Ashleigh’s golden hair, Ashleigh’s large breasts...
Alise closed the door as she entered the room.
“What do you want me to do now?” Niklaus asked.
“Must I only come to talk about work and give you instructions?” She stood very close to him. She took the beer from his hand and drank, her eyes never leaving his. “Can I not simply visit my own beloved cousin?”
