Wild Thing (27 page)

At last, judging it satisfactory, he turned and left the apartment.

Chapter 29 

Harmon stared as Sara entered the cafeteria, clearly excited: her somersaulting roll toward the meal dispenser gave it away.  It wasn't until she had bounced to her feet that she noticed him, and froze.  He could see the thought: “uh oh” as he checked the time.  After 10 pm: over two hours since he had put her to bed.

Strangely, though, her excitement returned.  Indeed, she ran over and jumped onto the bench seat opposite him, leaning forward conspiratorially before he could reprimand her.  '
It
attacked Faith and me tonight!  With cold!'

He looked around the room.  Five empty tables, two garish junk food dispensers, one large white food processor and a tall thin dishbot waiting patiently for him to finish his coffee, reassured him they were alone.  Most others left at 5 pm.  Now that they'd automated the patient care, only Simmons, Shanahan, and the Director still lived on site; and
they
ate much earlier.

'Really?  That's interesting.'  He kept a smile off his lips with difficulty.  'That was lucky, considering how little you feel the cold.'

She peeled off her jacket, revealing a tight-fitting black top edged in white fur trim, and ran over to stand in front of the dinner machine.  Head tilted to one side before punching in several codes, she turned to talk to him over her shoulder.

'I guess so.  But it would have got me if it hadn't been for Faith.'

He frowned.  It was good that she imagined enemies for herself, bad that she was telling herself she needed external help to overcome them.  'Really, Sara, you must learn to defend yourself.  You're telling me that it got a little cold, and Faith kept you warm?'  He let his disdain show.

She scowled round at him.  'It didn't get a
little
cold, it got
super
cold.  My breath froze and fell to the ground, and my eyes froze shut.  It got so cold I could hardly move, and Faith half dragged me till we got back inside the barrier.'

Her breath froze – what an imagination she had!
  Her face did look a little reddened, though, he noticed, as she returned with a tray loaded with a plate of soy fries and a large mug of hot vegetable soup.  She angrily thumped them onto the table, making the soup splash and the dishbot jerk forward in readiness.  Her eyes also looked a little red, and there was something odd about her eyelashes.  Were they shorter?

'Well, a cold snap is possible, but what made you decide it was
It
attacking?'

'’Cause the frost ended in a big circle about a hundred meters from the main doors.  I remembered you said there was a magic barrier that kept us safe, inside. That means it must of been a magic attack.  Plus, I sensed something out there, afterward.'

'Must
have
,' he automatically corrected as she shoveled a handful of fries into her mouth, looking pleased with herself.  He considered.  The Warding did extend that distance from the buildings.  Which suggested that she had somehow sensed the barrier – quite encouraging, really – and woven the fact into her fantasy.  Unless there
had
been an incident outside?  He took out his MetaStylus, traced “Shanahan” on the table, then pressed the connect button.

'Problem, doctor Harmon?'  Shanahan's voice sounded tinnily in his ear.

'Probably not.  Has it been quiet this evening?  Any incidents?'

'Nope.  All inmates snug in their rooms.  And nobody trying to break in, either,' he laughed.

Sara scowled, leaning forward as she obviously tried to hear the other end of his conversation.

'Ah, good.  Has it been unusually cold outside, perhaps?' Harmon asked.

'Well, the sensor in the entry hall did register a twenty degree drop a quarter hour ago.  Only lasted a few minutes, though.  Probably a faulty thermocouple.  And a sensor out front, too.  Hmm.  That's odd.  Looks like Faith headed out on an extra patrol on her own after I'd settled her; and I see here that her telemetry went offline for maybe half an hour, an hour and a half later.  Hang on: there was an accompanying heat signature at her kennel when she headed out… Wait: are you there with
Sara
?  Did she sneak Faith out again?  Did she-'

He paused, and when he continued, his tone of surprise had shifted to anger.  'Ah, shit: she did something to them, didn't she?  To Faith's sensors.  Which means I've ordered replacements for no good reason.  Dammit!  Tell her to stop fucking with my security systems: they're there for a reason.  Maybe I should charge the replacements to you.'

Harmon sighed.  'I will speak to her.'  He disconnected.  So.  She must have decided that
it
could attack via cold, and done something to the sensors to fit the fantasy, constructing her small adventure.  Quite well thought-out and executed, really.

'Well?'  Sara demanded, taking a mouthful of her soup, fries already finished.

He smiled, rather pleased that she had been able to manipulate the security system without Shanahan's knowledge.  She was becoming quite resourceful.  'Yes, a sensor did register a temperature drop,' he told her, not wishing to weaken her fantasy, then changed the subject, indicating her plate.  'Still hungry?  You ate quite a large dinner.'

'I got cold.  From
its
attack.  This is just to warm me up.'

He eyed her figure.  It was a good thing she stayed active, or with the quantity of food she ate she'd soon be overweight.

Sara just smiled at him over her mug of soup, looking self-assured, even more so than usual.

A scan of her in the Imaginal supported her account.  She looked as he would expect had she faced an ordeal.  But fantasized or real?  If there had been a twenty degree drop in temperature registered in the entry hall, then there
could
have been a larger drop, outside.  But what could do that?  A weather elemental?  But elementals and “foreign” spirits would be unable to penetrate the external Wards.  He examined her again, hoping for a hint of magical Unfolding, but there was nothing, as usual: she remained stolidly normal.

Did she look
too
pleased with herself, though?  Planning some mischief, perhaps?  He cast mindmeld and skimmed her thoughts, but she was focused on the warmth and taste of her soup; just an occasional darting memory of cold, of struggling on leaden limbs.  Nothing else.  Surely…?

'Sara, you haven't been visiting Godsson, have you?'

Bizarrely, she immediately pictured the vintage “Mario Brothers” cap she had begged him to purchase, some months back – and which he had never seen her wear.  Then she grew angry, remembering herself standing on the chair which had been removed, holding up the broken cleaning bot which had also been taken from her.

She slammed her mug down on the table, soup splashing out.  'I'm
not allowed
to!'

Then stormed off.

For some reason, he was not as reassured as he should have been.  The mind link, of course, snapped as soon as she disappeared from sight.  He sighed.  She couldn't be visiting Godsson.  Shanahan had tightened the security.  They'd changed all the passcodes.  And he had just probed her, too.

He shook his head.  She was beginning to make
him
think of her as something more than a mere child.  If only she would Unfold!  He brought his mind back to the matter at hand: her “ordeal” tonight.

Just her fantasy.
  He would have to watch that: if she began taking too much satisfaction from make-believe activities, such a relief mechanism could interfere with his own experimental programme.

A part of him, though, worried. 
Could
there have been some kind of magical assault?  But from who, or what?  Nothing supernatural could penetrate the Institute's Wards – at least, not without such a massive display of power that it would be noticed.  And the imaginary creature was just imaginary.

Surely?

She, however, still remained utterly convinced it was real; he knew that from his mindmelds.  Her “Robo.”  A most peculiar choice of name, given his suggestions of an unsettling invisible creature.  Odd that she was imagining robotic behavior for the thing.

It was also odd that she was still so certain it was real, since in many ways she was quite the little pragmatist.  It had been years since he had used his telekinesis to encourage her belief.

Then, too, there had been that singular occasion very early on, when he had secretly followed behind her, reading her mind, and felt what seemed like some kind of backlash effect.  Even, for a moment, had felt he sensed the same thing she did.

Something about the situation definitely made him uneasy.  But in the end there was little he could do except stay alert, and keep an open mind.

At least she had appeared uninjured – even unconcerned.  Indeed, she had seemed in very fine fettle.  And by her own account, Faith too had come through unscathed.  So even if something odd had happened, it had not been dangerous.

At least, not at this stage.

He felt a shiver run up his spine.

Chapter 30 

I am
so
ready!
  The last six months had taken
forever,
but finally, it was the summer solstice.

The FBI man watched her carefully as her uncle concealed the keypad from her sight.  She looked away while he entered the code, hoping it'd make him go faster. 
Why was he so
slow
?
  She always did it much faster.  She bounced up and down on her heels: the sun had already set and she was sure
She
would already be attacking.

Sure enough, as soon as the final door was opened she could hear Godsson's cries from below.  Wrenching her hand free from her uncle's grip she raced down the stairs.  Thanks to his shouting, the FBI agents along the corridor swiveled to face her as she sped toward them.

Maybe some of them recognized her from the year before, because no one shot at her as she dodged between them to press her nose up against the bottom of the window into Godsson's cell, squinting against the terrible golden glare.

It was bad.  He was turning, not quite spinning, as if She were coiling around him, trying to make him dizzy.

'Don't let her trick you, Godsson!  She's just tryin’ a confuse you!' 
She
had learned spinny things recently: how to make things whirl and flash in bewildering ways that were hard to look away from.  'Just shut your eyes!'

She felt a wave of hatred, from
Her
of course, and pulled back, even as masculine arms pulled her away from the window and lifted her onto the bench opposite, which she didn't really need.

The man who'd lifted her so easily was a tall stranger she hadn't seen before.  He was dressed in actual skins, with pale gray fur still on them, the edges curling loosely open over a broad, tanned, and well-muscled chest.  Complicated feathery knots and little tiny dangling jewelry things hung from the skins, and around his neck a leather cord held up a small lumpy bag drawn tight shut.

His eyes were a dark brown, very clear, and she realized he was studying her just as closely as she was studying him.  For some reason it made her blush.

He looked well-fed, and for some reason he was sweating slightly, as if the air-conditioned corridor was too hot for him.

Past him, looking on, were two others almost as strangely dressed, a man and a woman.  The man was bald, his face painted in bright and dark stripes.  The woman had long blonde hair and a slightly cross face.  Both looked older than the man who'd moved her away from Godsson.

Whose cries had eased after she'd warned him.  But only for a while.  Soon enough,
She
attacked again.

And it kept getting slowly worse, hour after hour.  She called encouragement till her voice grew hoarse; and then kept calling.  But by midnight, it had gotten worse than she ever remembered it being, worse even than that awful first time she'd seen him being attacked.

She went quiet,
willing
him to win, to keep fighting, to not let Her beat him.  She eyed the keypad, wishing she'd managed to spy out the combination.

If only she could get in there somehow!  Then she'd
really
help.  But entering from above wouldn't work: even if she
could
still get in undetected past all the new security gadgets they'd sneaked in up there, she remembered how the area over his cell had been super strong.  Real different to the rest of the old, thin ceiling tiles.

If only she could get
in
there!  She kept willing him on.  It felt especially awful now that she'd gone quiet.  But she had to: she felt suddenly sure that something was creeping up on her, and she had to stay still and quiet to hear.  Waiting in the silent moments was horrid, like she could feel hooks or barbs trying to sneak into her own flesh.

She looked carefully around.  Godsson's agonized grunts and howls gripped them all. Everyone had their eyes focused on the speaker where the terrible sounds escaped the cell.

But it felt different.  It felt wrong.  Like
She
was tricking them.  She looked around, trying to see… and like a puzzle coming into focus, saw how the edges of the skins the handsome shaman wore curled too sleekly against his skin.

'It's here!  She's here!  She's come through!'  She screamed and threw herself onto the strange shaman, tearing Her off his clothes.  Clinging to him with her legs, she felt seams and ties rip and tear as she clawed at the invisible thing wrapped across his broad chest and round his waist.

At first he stood still like he was in shock, but she knew it was more because
She
was confusing him, probably whispering to him, or doing other weird stuff.  She felt the man's arms wrap warmly around her, cuddling her, and felt something pressing oddly against her, before he jerked like he'd just come awake, and then started grappling her and trying to pull her off.