Echo 8 (25 page)

What must it feel like? For Jake, there would be pain—on multiple levels. But for Tess … well, he'd watched Jake feed on
her
. It was like witnessing a religious experience.

Ross pressed a fist against his thigh.

Then suddenly he was moving, and his arms were around Tess. He tugged her backward, separating her from Jake.

Light blossomed behind his eyelids. The ground dropped from under him.

He clutched at her as they tumbled into the light tunnel, keeping her close. But as they plummeted through cellophane layers of space and time, he lost her. He shouted her name, but the light was a tangible thing. Thick and liquid, it seeped into his throat, coating his vocal cords.

But their bodies came back together, tangling again as they dropped into the bed—Mac's bed on the
Kalakala
.

Not here!
Pushing back the vertigo, he shot up, reaching for his absent weapon.

He rolled onto his feet just as two men burst through the doorway at the top of the stairs. They raised their guns, and Ross threw his hands in the air, Tess mirroring him.

“Both of you, freeze!”

 

P
SI
G
AMES

The United States Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) and Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) have endorsed a procedure for neutralization of individual Echoes. The procedure, though effective, is considered extremely high risk and should be conducted only by approved personnel. The FBI is in the process of acquiring a secure facility for the housing of captive Echoes and has agreed to take on maintenance responsibilities until such time as the UN Echo Coalition is able to agree upon a longer-term solution. Please see the attached document for further details and instructions.

—Official Memo from the Office of Ann Green, U.S. Director of National Intelligence

“W
E'RE UNARMED!”
Ross shouted, dropping one arm partway, shielding Tess.

Tess studied the two men—dark suits, government-issue weapons.
Not Echoes.

One man cautiously lowered his gun. “Agent McGinnis?”

“That's right.”

The man's gaze shifted to Tess.

“This is Dr. Caufield,” said Ross, “from Seattle Psi. You are?”

“Kendrick, from the Seattle Field Office. We were mobilized to find you after your car was towed from a no-parking zone.”

The other agent lowered his gun, and Ross dropped his hands.

“You should warn your men there are Echoes on this boat,” Ross told them.

Kendrick nodded. “We found the bodies belowdecks. We're still sweeping the other levels, but it looks like they've all fled.” He holstered his gun. “Come on. I'll drive you back to Seattle Psi. Director Garcia is waiting to talk to you.”

Tess eyed Ross uneasily. The short nod he gave her wasn't enough to answer her unspoken question.

Who am I now? Lover? Echo expert? Recovered fugitive?

*   *   *

It was a long, silent ride back to the institute. Tess watched the last dregs of blood-orange light drain from the sky to the west. As good as it was to be warm again, it was hard to feel much relief about being home. She'd come back to the same problems she'd left. And she could only guess at the consequences of running from the Bureau and freeing Jake.

Mac's words replayed in her mind.
Unreliable. Unstable.

She wished she'd had a chance to talk about everything with Ross before the sudden dislocation. She especially wished she'd had the chance to explain about that kiss. Though what could she really say? It had been such a Jake thing to do. And she didn't regret it. They'd been through so much together, and she might never see him again.

But now she was returning to the institute with her only potential ally, not knowing what he felt about her, how the kiss might have changed that, or whether he intended to go along with Garcia's schemes.

Why would he do anything else?
It sickened her how much her thoughts sounded like Mac since the transfer.

As Kendrick parked the car in the visitor lot, she resolved not to run again. Her whole life was here at the institute. She had to give Ross a chance. She had to give
herself
a chance. And she had to show them both she was strong enough to face her problems.

Inside they met Garcia in the lobby. “I'm glad you're safe, Dr. Caufield.” His gaze took in their muddy, disheveled state.

“Director.” She nodded.

“Good work, Agent McGinnis.”

Were they going to politely ignore the fact she had intentionally fled the institute? That was fine by her.

“Echo 8 is at large?” asked Garcia.

Tess winced inwardly.
Here it comes
.

“No, sir. Echo 8 faded out.”

She stared at him. Was he covering her ass or his own?

“That's a shame.” Garcia's gaze shifted to Tess. “Fortunately we've found you a replacement subject, Doctor.”

“What?” She exchanged a glance with Ross, who didn't appear any more pleased about the news than she was. “Where?”

“Here, in your lab. I think it's someone you'll be glad to see.”

Someone she
knew
?

Her heart thumped in anticipation, but Garcia turned his attention to Ross. “I want you both to shower and change. I've ordered food. I'll send it up when it gets here.”

“Yes, sir,” said Ross.

“Who is it, Director?” asked Tess, too tired for games.

“When you've eaten, come back down to the cafeteria for debriefing. After that we'll look in on Echo 9.”

She reminded herself she'd decided to play along for the time being, and when Agent Perez appeared to escort her she went without a fight.

But she whispered a prayer to the universe:
Please don't let it be anyone I love
.

She started up the stairs, Ross following unescorted behind her. One of them was still trusted, at least. She couldn't help wishing they could go to the same apartment, as they had several times in the days before the director's arrival. She wanted to crawl into bed with him and sleep for a week.

*   *   *

By the time she'd showered and eaten the Thai takeout the director had sent up, it was after 10
P.M.
She felt wrecked, and unequal to whatever “debriefing” entailed, but she knew the director wasn't going to let her see who he had in the lab unless she complied with his order.

When she arrived at the cafeteria, Garcia and Ross were already seated at the table where they'd all had breakfast earlier that day.
Surely it was more like a week ago?

Both men rose as she entered.

“Please, Doctor,” said Garcia, pulling out a chair for her. The unexpected courtesy scared her more than if he'd started right off with berating her.

She sat down, and Ross—his expression pressed as crisply as his Bureau uniform—poured her a glass of water. It was cold and helped to sharpen her senses, which had gone tepid with fatigue.

“I'm not going to sugarcoat the situation, Doctor. Your decision to fly out of here, flouting the Bureau's authority over a dangerous captive, has obliged me to view you as a very serious security risk.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him Jake had been
her
subject, and no one's captive, until the
Bureau
had come in uninvited and started bullying everyone. But she pressed her lips together and waited for him to continue.
Pick your battles
.

“However, Agent McGinnis has indicated that you've expressed remorse about your precipitous departure, and I'm inclined to view the fault as partly my own for not giving you the opportunity to ask questions about the information I'd given you.”

Again she stuffed down her first response: Anger, that Ross had believed himself qualified to speak for her. She wasn't at all sorry for rescuing Jake from forced participation in Garcia's death squad. But a calmer internal voice suggested that it could be that Ross was trying to help her.

“As Echo 8 departed this world without killing any innocent bystanders, I'm also inclined to let bygones be bygones, assuming future cooperation.”

Tess swallowed, allowed her lips to part, and spoke carefully. Her brain was barely keeping ahead of her mouth, and she couldn't afford to say anything stupid right now.

“I'd like to point out, Director, that Echo 8 never killed anyone, even while he was ‘at large,' due to the work the two of us”—she glanced at Ross—“the
three
of us did together here at Seattle Psi.”

Garcia nodded. “Acknowledged, Doctor. And that's why I consider you an asset to our team.” He poured himself a glass of water and continued. “Ross has also told me about the most recent dislocation.”

Her eyes rolled Ross's direction and back. How she wished she had even a fraction of his control. What exactly had he told Garcia? And why?

Did you expect him to lie to his superior for you?
Tess clenched her fists in her lap, trying to flush the Mac residue out of her head.

“He explained to me how he used the dislocation to transport the two of you out of danger on the
Kalakala
.”

Tess opened and closed her mouth. She let her gaze rest on Ross. What possible motive could he have for that particular lie? She knew him better than to suspect he wanted to impress the director with his ability. Most likely he was trying to protect her, but she was pretty sure his taking all the credit for the dislocation wasn't going to be enough to make Garcia forget about her.

“Yes, he's very resourceful,” she said lamely.

“His disclosure has led to a change in plans. While Echoes continue to be essential to our operation, we no longer plan to use them as assassins. Your role will remain the same, however. You'll work with Ross and the other agents on energy transfers, and you'll conduct Ross's psi training.”

“I'm glad to hear that, Director.” But the surge of relief was neutralized by her sense that all was not right with this picture. The Bureau would not have so easily given up its objective. “How do you intend to eliminate your targets without them?”

“Echoes are necessary to enable the dislocations. Trained agents will use dislocation to eliminate the targets. The risk of collateral damage is reduced to practically nil.”

They're turning Ross into an assassin instead
. Ross had done one dislocation; he didn't have that kind of control. But she had no doubt he was capable of it.

Her heart went down like the
Titanic
.

“I understand that you're a scientist and not an operative,” continued the director, his gaze flickering briefly at Ross. “And my early mistake was not giving that fact the consideration it deserves. So from this point on we'll draw a line between preparation and end objectives, and will confine your involvement to the former.”

And I can go happily about my work, repressing the fact I'm training Ross to track and kill people
.

Again she found herself trying to read an unreadable Ross.

“Now, do you have questions, Doctor?”

She folded her hands on the table, asking in a subdued voice, “Will I be able to continue my work with the task force?”

The director frowned. “In a more limited capacity.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“For one, we expect your new responsibilities to consume most of your time. But also we've discontinued your access to task force members until we're reassured of your commitment to preserving the classified nature of this project.”

So much for bygones
.

“I see.”

“The task force will of course be kept apprised of your progress and any new discoveries you make.”

“May I request to continue to receive their updates, as well?”

“I don't see why not.”

“How about Dr. Carmichael and the institute?”

“We'll continue here until we can locate a more secure facility. Your director is understandably eager to return to her own facility, so we will make that happen as soon as possible.”

The first thing Tess read into this was that Abby was raising hell about the Bureau coup. Good for her. The second thing she read into it was that
she
would soon be leaving the institute.

The director rose from the table. “And now if you're ready, we'll take you to meet Echo 9.”

She rose quickly. Awkwardly. Still trying to assimilate all the new information, she had all but forgotten the new Echo.

She watched Ross rise from the table, again looking for messages he wasn't transmitting. She followed the director into the lobby, and Ross drew up beside her, cupping her elbow with his hand. A feather-light touch. Nothing suggestive. Reasonable contact between a bodyguard and the woman he was protecting.

Or a man escorting a woman in custody.

They stopped outside the lab door, and Ross squeezed and released her elbow. She peered through the window, afraid of what waited inside.

The man on the floor was transparent. But she still recognized him in an instant.

“Professor Goff!” she cried, stepping close to the door, pressing a hand to the glass. “He needs a transfer!”

She reached for the lock, but Ross's hand moved to cover it.

“All energy transfers will be conducted by Bureau personnel,” said Garcia. “It's for your own safety, Doctor.”

She almost laughed in his face.
You don't want anyone dislocating that you can't control
.

“He's too weak to come to the door,” she protested.

“I'll take care of it,” Ross said softly. His hand closed over the knob.

“Can you…?” She resented having to make such a personal request in front of Garcia. But she had to know. “Can you find out if he knows me?”