by Debra Jess
Hannah wasn't sure what to say. Before last night, she might have been the least sexually experienced eighteen-year-old on the planet, but Alek was the last person she expected to have a birds and bees sort of concern for her.
"Thanks, Alek. I promise, whatever happens between me and Scott — I'll be careful."
He seemed relieved, patting her gloved hand once more before he left the room. What just happened here? Hannah sat for a few moments, both touched by Alek's concern for her, but more worried that she’d actually managed to have a life-changing night with Scott and no one had noticed. Alek hadn't seen anything different about her. This was a good thing, right? Wasn't this why she'd fled to Thunder City in the first place? To disappear? Live a quiet life where no one took notice of her?
Miranda is dead. You don't have to hide from her. You shouldn't have to hide from the Committee.
A familiar buzz tickled her backside. She'd forgotten to turn her phone off. The recorded message icon flashed. She double checked the number. It was McNamara.
"Hannah?" McNamara answered on the first ring. He'd been waiting for her.
"Yes. I'm sorry, I'm eating breakfast. I'll be there as soon as I can get a ride." She'd been so flustered about talking to Alek about sex that she'd forgotten to ask him for a lift.
"The earlier, the better."
"Did something happen? Did the Oversight Committee tell you I couldn't work with you?"
"No, but if the Committee does try something, I think it would be better if you were here at the hospital. I can protect you if you're here."
Hannah had to figure he meant the VIP floor. It was so far underneath the hospital, it was the last place the Committee would look. It would buy her some time if she needed to escape, but Scott wouldn't have access. At least, he wouldn't have physical access. She wondered if he could translocate her from so far underground.
"Hannah, I promise. I'll be right beside you the whole time. I won't let anything bad happen to you. You won't be alone."
She took a deep, calming breath. "Thank you. I'll be there soon. I just need to get a ride."
"I'll see you then." McNamara disconnected the line before she could.
Half an hour later, Hannah used her secret card to get back to McNamara's VIP level office. She still closed her eyes in the elevator, but her shaking wasn't quite as bad. Maybe she was getting used to closed doors?
This time when she stepped into the hallway, the Shield wasn't there standing guard. Without him, the hallway appeared incomplete, but far less threatening. She knocked on McNamara's door, but there was no answer. Her phone buzzed in her pocket again.
Meet me in the first autopsy room on the left ~ M.
The eerie quiet made the whole set-up creepier than it should have been. All the doors to all of the rooms were closed, so she knocked on the first autopsy room door.
He met her in the doorway, already wearing scrubs. Instead of inviting her inside the room to watch, he slipped into the hallway and closed the door behind him, as if he didn't want her to see what was in the room.
"How are you feeling this morning?"
Various song lyrics about being a real woman flittered through her mind, none of which she was going to repeat for McNamara. "I'm not sure."
He looked her over, as if searching for visible wounds. For a moment, she wondered if he could tell she wasn't a virgin anymore.
"Confusion is natural after trauma, and you've had quite a few traumas in the past few days."
"The past two weeks."
McNamara nodded, his sympathy obvious now and more welcome. His scrubs included gloves, so he was safe. She didn't flinch when he placed a soft hand on her shoulder.
"Since we lost the cadavers from the quarry raid, I suddenly find myself with more free time on my hands. I thought we'd try a few experiments with your Alt ability."
Experiments? The shadow of Miranda passed through her soul. How could this be? McNamara had saved her from the Committee. He’d thrown himself on top of her to protect her from the explosion at the harbor. He was nothing like Miranda. Experiment was just a word and she reacted to it like it was a closed door. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Not here, safe in the hospital with McNamara.
"Are you sure we should?" she asked, stalling.
McNamara moved past her to push open the door to another room behind her. "Why not? We're not working on the living, are we? It's not like we could cause a cadaver any harm or pain."
Not causing pain was true. Not causing harm, though? Everyone deserved some dignity after they died, didn't they? Even the cadavers transported from Star Haven would have been buried or cremated if their bodies weren't at the bottom of the harbor, including Miranda's.
Miranda's body polluted the harbor. Hannah pulled herself away from that morbid thought.
"You needn't worry about ethics," McNamara continued. "These folks donated themselves to further the cause of science. I can show you the paperwork if you wish."
Now Hannah felt foolish. Of course McNamara would make sure he had consent before experimenting. He was a doctor. Hannah never should have doubted him.
"Sorry. My thoughts drifted. I probably should get changed first."
McNamara motioned toward the counter. "I took the liberty of finding some scrubs for you. I had to guess at the size. Is medium big enough?"
Hannah hadn't been a size small since middle school. She snatched the scrubs off the counter.
"I'll leave you alone here to change. Come in when you're ready. Don't worry about your gloves."
Hannah changed as quickly as she could. When she entered the first autopsy room, she saw McNamara had a new cadaver inside, but this time, the cadaver was hooked up to an IV and a cardiopulmonary bypass.
"What's all of this?" She couldn't even guess why a cadaver would need a machine to replace the functions of the heart and lungs.
"Part two of what you started before the harbor attack."
"Are you not sure she's dead? Is that what I'm checking for you?"
"Oh, she's quite dead. Heart attack, poor thing. Only thirty-six and quite healthy. Not sure what brought the heart attack on, which is why she's down here."
"Down here in the VIP level, but not upstairs? Is she famous?"
"No. We're just borrowing her for a little while."
A niggle of doubt wormed its way into her heart. She wasn't as fluent in medical ethics as she was in anatomy, but this setup reminded her of a few horror films.
McNamara must have noticed her doubt. "Really, Hannah. I didn't select the cadaver easily or without the utmost reverence. Her family, if she has one, will only be grateful if we can solve the mystery of why she died. They'll be even more grateful if we can figure it out without slicing her open, wouldn't you think?"
It all sounded reasonable. The autopsy process was a barbaric way of solving mysteries, but so far no one had found a way of replacing it. At least, not until now. McNamara had no reason to want to harm a dead woman, and he was her mentor after all. Of course he'd want to push her to her limits. How could either one of them know what she was capable of if she didn't push past her boundaries? "Sorry. To the families, the autopsy process must look like a necessary evil."
"Is it, though?" McNamara pulled her closer to the body. "Does it have to be a necessary evil?"
Now Hannah could see what McNamara had done. He'd hooked up an IV to push blood into the body. The CPB machine was forcing it to circulate.
"You want me to bloodsurf through her?"
"You're a smart woman, Hannah. Your knowledge of anatomy is near perfect. Let's take it one step further. We now know that you can penetrate a dead body, but you still need blood flowing to surf through it. This one has blood flowing through it. Try to do what you did before. Try to surf to her heart and let me know what you find there."
It all sounded so reasonable. Saving lives, healing people. She didn't do anything different than your average doctor, nurse, or even paramedic. But this was different. The wrongness m
ade her skin crawl.
"Hannah. This is just an autopsy. You're not doing anything more than what I would do. You're just not going to leave the scars on her body that I would. It's okay. You're doing the right thing."
McNamara's reassuring voice conquered her concerns. Of course it would be okay. She wasn't doing anything that McNamara hadn't done hundreds of times, but she could be cleaner about it. If it worked.
She placed her hand on the woman's chest, just over her left breast. Might as well start as close to her target as possible.
Inside. It worked. It actually worked, except the blood flow lacked the pulse of a beating heart. The smooth ride to the bicuspid valve didn't require any thought on her part to keep herself moving forward. She didn't have to fight the current. As fast as she could move in a living human, without a pulse she moved even faster.
She still had work to do, so she used her newfound momentum and zipped through the rest of the woman's body. When she reemerged, almost as quickly as she entered, she had figured out the mystery.
"You did it!"
McNamara sounded almost as amazed as she felt. Her whole body tingled with the joy of discovering an amazing gift.
"I did. And, I think I know why she died. Diabetes, possibly undiagnosed, and she smoked."
"Well, that does seem plausible and reasonable. I'll follow up on your findings." He started to disconnect the equipment.
"Wait. You mean you're going to autopsy her anyway?"
McNamara paused, but removed his hands from the switch. "Oh, Hannah, I'm so sorry. But, this was an experiment. An unauthorized one at that. I do have to perform the autopsy the normal way. It's still my job. Until the Committee is satisfied with your control, this has to remain between us."
Of course, dummy. She couldn't just break the laws of science, not to mention what she suspected were several dozen ethical standards, and expect the doctors on the Committee to overlook that. It could be years before they allow her to do something like this again.
"It'll be okay, Hannah." McNamara returned to disconnect the CPB machine. "I promise. Now that we know what you're capable of we can start working toward the goal of showing the Committee by using proper channels. It'll take time, but it will be done."
Yes, it would. McNamara would see that it would get done. She'd never met anyone who could navigate through the maze of rules with the slickness of oil like he did. He had a way of making you trust him, so when he did break the rules, no one would believe it — and even if they did, they would forgive him. Just as she did. Or, did she forgive him because he gave her permission to join him in his subterfuge?
At the end of the day, she was responsible for her actions. The Committee might say she was influenced by someone she trusted, but McNamara hadn’t forced her to bloodsurf through the woman on the table. She did it herself. She made the choice. A poor choice by certain standards, but she'd been making a lot of those lately.
"Are you planning to call someone?" he asked. McNamara wasn't even looking at her, and yet he knew she'd pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hadn't even realized what she'd done until he mentioned it.
She put the phone back and slipped on her gloves instead. "Sorry. I was going to call Scott. I wanted to tell him about our success, but I guess I shouldn't."
"No, you really shouldn't. Have you given any thought to what we talked about yesterday?"
"About breaking up with Scott?" How could she answer a question like that after last night? "I haven't thought about it because I can't do it. He means too much to me."
McNamara brought the sheet up to cover the cadaver and motioned her to the door. Together they walked back to his office.
The Shield was still missing. Maybe McNamara didn't need as much protection down here? They appeared to be the only two people on the whole floor — and yet, who had helped McNamara set up the autopsy room? Who was going to bring the body back? It seemed odd he would do either by himself.
The oddness of the situation disappeared when McNamara motioned for her to sit behind his desk. Jimmy Chung's records had already appeared on the screen. McNamara was trying to help her, so she dug into the records as McNamara left, remembering to keep the door open. He might want her to break up with Scott, but Hannah had other plans.
16
Scott made a pit stop to change clothes and clean up at Thomas's penthouse. Hannah hovered on the edge of his consciousness the entire time he showered and changed. Last night wasn't what he’d had in mind for their first time. He’d wanted to take it slower, more careful, more romantic with flowers and a fine meal and all of the other things a man does to seduce the woman he cares about.
Instead, he gave into her command to speed things up, to give her what she demanded when she asked for more. The turn-on spurred him to keep going and hope that he didn't hurt her. She didn't appear hurt, but he'd call her later to make sure.
He checked his watch after his shower. Not even mid-morning and he already needed a second cup of coffee — black and strong. He'd have to grab a cup at the shop located on the first level.
All the coffee in the world wouldn't solve his problem with committing both to Hannah and the Shield. His conversation with the Shield circled his protective instincts, pecking at the weak spots, looking for a break in the barrier that would let loose all of his insecurities.
His training as a cop demanded that he let Thomas know that the Shield worked for the Court of Blood. The Shield knew their secrets, their mission, their vision, their members, their locations. He claimed to want to bring Scott into the organization to bring them down, but did Scott trust the Shield enough to follow him?
If it weren't for the Shield, he, Hannah, and McNamara would have died at the harbor. They worked well together, in tandem, as if they were already a team. Scott knew he needed the kind of training he wouldn't get from T-CASS, but there were still too many unanswered questions about his new mentor.
And what about McNamara? Was he a part of the Court of Blood, too? Or, was he part of the Shield's subterfuge, keeping Hannah away from the Court without making it look as if he was protecting her?
Scott needed answers, but first, he'd promised Hannah and Betty Chung that he would help figure out what the deal was with Jimmy. Until he was sure about the Shield, he would focus on Hannah's report about someone slicing through Jimmy Chung's spine, a barbaric mystery that needed to be solved. He'd worry about the Shield and the Court of Blood later, after his training session at the Arena.
If Thunder City cared about his dilemma, morning traffic didn't show it. He hit every light between downtown and the row of factories bordering the Fargrounds. Nik had encouraged him to observe Jimmy himself; Nik wouldn't be able assist except to advise from the sidelines. If Dani was going to donate her kidney to her younger brother soon, Nik would stay by her side.
Scott had to wonder if Nik's new girlfriend had something to do with Highlight's attitude during their training sessions. Scott had only met Serena Jakes once when he had been a kid, maybe ten or eleven. Nik was already in high school, and Serena was his brother's first serious girlfriend. She'd been nice enough to him then, asking him questions about the new computer he'd gotten for his birthday, but she didn't really have much else to say to him.
He buried this latest train of thought, as he pulled into the driveway of a row of townhouses. He found the right number just as a woman opened the door. He could see the resemblance to Betty, despite the longer hair and stouter body. An older sister, it would seem, but not by much.
"Ms. Han, I'm Scott Grey."
"I recognize you from the news. Your mother was here this morning to check on Jimmy."
"Is she still here? My mother, I mean."
Rita shook her head. "No, she didn't stay long. She wanted to make sure Jimmy was adjusting. That's what makes Captain Spectacular so special to us Norms. She really does care about us. Please, come in."
Rita opened the door wider to let him inside. He looked around. Rita's home, unlike B
etty's, was tidy. "I was wondering if I could see Jimmy?"
Rita sighed. "Betty showed you the video, didn't she?"
Sisters talked to each other. He should have expected no less, but after years of not talking to his brothers, the familial connection still caught him off guard. "Well, yes, she did."
"It proves nothing." Rita backed away from the door to let him inside. "Look, my sister means well, but this whole 'my kid is an Alt business' didn't start until after her husband ran off with another woman. He lives in Star Haven, but is fighting Betty for custody. He thinks...we all think...Betty is trying to fake Jimmy's Alt power to keep him from getting custody. If her ex insists on living in Star Haven, and if Jimmy is an Alt, Jimmy can't live there because of the Alt ban. If her ex wants to see his son, he'll have to move back here, or at least commute here every weekend or however the court sets up visitation rights."
It was a simple strategy, but only if Jimmy was truly an Alt. Betty had to know she could only keep such a charade up for so long. Since no one knew, except for Hannah, what caused Alt power, there was no way to prove that a child was an Alt until they used their ability in front of witnesses. Hannah had promised Catherine that she would never tell another soul, not even Scott.
He took a seat near the living room picture window. "I'd still like to see Jimmy, if you don't mind."
Rita left the room. A moment later, she returned with Jimmy in her arms. She sat the boy down in the middle of the room.
"Jimmy, this is Mister Grey."
The boy blinked at his aunt, then turned to stare at Scott. He blinked again, but didn't try to crawl or stand or fuss with the toy in his hand.
"Hi, Jimmy. I'm glad to meet you. You've had a couple of exciting days."
