Hybrid Zone Recognition (10 page)

I looked up at that. “Where does the rest of the funding come from?”

“Private sources and proprietary profits.”

Profits? What part of hybrid technology could they possibly sell and to who? I jotted that down at the end of my list.

“If found out, could I be arrested for terrorist or terrorist related activities?”

“No,” he said somewhat angrily.

Okay, not into terrorism. “Would I be betraying my country in any way?”

“By whose estimation?”

Touché. “The military’s.”

“Most definitely not.”

Good. I loved the military. “Are you affiliated with the military? The US military.”

He sighed. “The military is an interested party.”

It seemed that I hadn’t needed to worry about approaching my contacts in the military. They already knew. Or, at least someone in their ranks did. It was not unexpected that they would want the technology for super soldier type stuff.

“Only the US military?” I asked.

“Yes,” he drawled.

“Is the public at risk?”

We must have been reaching the very edge of what he was willing to tell me without any commitment from me. He stared at me for a full ten seconds before answering. “Possibly.”

“Am I right to assume that you cannot answer any technical questions I have about the hybrids or their abilities?”

“That is correct. The boys down in the lab will be meeting with you for that.”

“You do understand, Director Garrison, that I will not agree to anything until I know for certain exactly what I am agreeing to?”

He smiled at me. “I’m beginning to. However, I am so confident that you are going to agree to work for us, Dr. Greer, that I have cleared you for full disclosure with the boys in the lab.”

He slapped his hands down on the table and pushed his chair back in an obvious sign of dismissal. Walking over to me, he extended his hand and said, “I’ll let Agent Needham handle the rest of the particulars. She will give you access to whatever you need.”

He placed his other hand over our handshake, “And Dr. Greer, I do mean whatever you need. We are not wholly government funded for a reason. Please make use of that fact. We need answers fast.” With that, he left.

The bodyguards remained where they were. I guessed they were for me or against me, if necessary. Just what they thought I was capable of, I didn’t know.

Belatedly, I realized he’d assumed that I’d say yes. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to decide. I didn’t have enough information to know. I’d only made it through half a page of questions.

Placing the pen on the pad in front of me, I began massaging my stiffened shoulders. This meeting had been more stressful than I had anticipated.

Agent Needham caught my eye across the table. “Need some stress relief?”

“That would be nice,” I nodded.

“I thought we would start with a quick run. I can also give you a tour of the grounds at the same time. Then you have your appointment with Dr. Hollins, which will probably take the rest of the afternoon.” She scooted her chair back and stood up. “We’ll just stop by your room to let you change.”

Oh, boy. I hadn’t noticed any spare running shoes in the closet. “Does my closet have a pair of running shoes?”

“What happened to the shoes you came here with?” she asked.

I so did not want to say this, but she kept looking at me, waiting for me to answer. This was going to tilt the scale in her favor again.

“NOLA ate them. Well, one of them.”

Catman, who had been in the process of standing up, stopped halfway with one hand on the table and one hand on the chair.

“NOLA?” Agent Needham’s face said perplexed, but I could have sworn she had a smile in her voice.

“The shower,” I sighed.

All eyes in the room turned to me.

“You got in the shower with your shoes on?” She asked with her head tilted to the side.

“I didn’t mean to get in the shower with my clothes on. But NOLA is evil. She trapped me in, and then she started talking to me and engaged some cycle…” My voice trailed off as I stared at Olivia’s open mouth.

Catman sat back down.

Agent Juarez put his hand up and said, “Wait, you got into the shower with all your clothes on and then started it?”

I sat back in my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. “I did not intentionally turn on the shower.”

“What cycle?” This from Olivia, who was now clearly amused and no longer trying to hide it.

“Ten,” I said reluctantly.

That was it for Catman. His head hit the table and his shoulders were shaking like a big ol’happy earthquake. The others in the room randomly dissolved into laughter.

I was never going to live this down.

“I don’t see what’s so funny,” I protested. “She scalded me and tried to yank my hair out.”

Those added details only led to more braying from everyone but Agent Pike. He was laughing so hard that he wasn’t making any sound at all.

Through her tears, Olivia asked, “So how’d you get the goose egg on your forehead?”

Dang it.

“Well, there was a lot of soap because
NOLA
heard more soap when I actually said no more soap. Anyway, I couldn’t really see what slammed me against the door thus producing this knot.”

The tears were flowing freely now from all corners of the room, except where I sat. Though, I would have been justified in doing so.

“How’d you get out?” Juarez squealed.

“I managed to find a voice command she recognized and the door opened.”

“The one,” Juarez paused, momentarily overtaken by laughter, “you were leaning against?”

I sighed again. “That very one. I fell out.”

Agent Needham was now sprawled in her chair, laughing really hard, loud laughs. Not very dignified if you asked me.

Everyone was so consumed with laughter that I thought maybe they wouldn’t notice if I said the rest quickly enough.

“I then proceeded to skid against the floor, crash into the tub and spin around.”

With every detail of my experience, more explosions of laughter erupted. Catman was silently pounding the table with his fist. Even the stoic bodyguards had lost it.

“It was then that I realized NOLA had eaten my shoe. What does NOLA stand for anyway? No One Leaves Alive.”

It was a lost cause. I wasn’t going to get anything from them until they got ahold of themselves. After several minutes, and a few more returns to Laughsville, they finally settled down.

In the fragile silence that ensued, Catman raised his hand.

I lifted my eyebrows in answer.

“What happened to the rest of your clothes?” he asked.

He was enjoying this way too much.

I narrowed my eyes at him before admitting the truth. “They didn’t make it,” I said flatly.

There they went again.

Chapter 7

“C
ome on, Einstein,” Olivia said
once she’d regained her composure. “We’ll skip the workout and head straight for Hollins. I’m sure he won’t mind accommodating you. Anyway, I think my stomach’s going to be sore enough as it is.”

Ha, ha. Very funny.

As we went, Olivia informed me that NOLA stood for National Osmotic Lavatory Assistant. National being the company that produced them, and they were not standard issue. They were originally produced to aid the furrier of the hybrids who had difficulty maintaining the cleanliness standards required by the Agency. Cycle ten was the most aggressive program available and rarely used.

I, who was not the least bit furry, had been pranked. It was an initiation of sorts. They had all been through it, though none of them had a story quite like mine.

After Olivia checked her messages, she informed me that I was going down in NOLA history. Much to my chagrin, a video featuring my retelling of the NOLA experience had been broadcast to all the employees, and I was unanimously voted to the top of the plaque.

Apparently, at some time in the future, there was going to be an actual ceremony in which a shiny new plate with my name on it was going to be added to a plaque located somewhere in this facility. Nothing like delayed humiliation to look forward to.

I was very gratified to learn that Agent Michaels name currently occupied the number two slot. She wouldn’t say exactly what happened, but I did learn that it had something to do with his manhood and not being able to wear underwear for a couple of weeks.

“So, where are we headed?” I asked, craning my head around, looking for some indication of where we were. Honestly, if these people ever expected me to find my way on my own, I may never be seen again. They could at least post maps at regular intervals like they did in amusement parks. I didn’t even know where to go in case of emergency.

“I am taking you to meet Dr. Hollins. He is the head of our implementation team for the existing predicament we find ourselves in. He’ll fill you in on everything.”

That was what everyone kept promising, but here I was still with loads of unanswered questions.

“Yeah, you already said you were taking me to see Hollins, and I thought Agent Michaels was the head of the team?”

“Michaels is the head of the team handling this situation. Hollins is the head of the implementation aspect. Meaning, he is responsible for the actual doing of the solution or non solution in his case.”

“What you’re telling me is that he is going to be thrilled to see me.”

“Overjoyed,” she nodded knowingly.

I pulled up short at the end of another conjunction of hallways. I was completely baffled. One hallway looked exactly like the next. Even the name plates on the doors were all the same. There were no unique identifying marks anywhere.

“How do you find your way around?” I asked her. It was a mystery I needed answered because it was really bugging me.

“We are required to memorize the floor plan.”

I glanced sidelong at her. Was she serious?

She held up her fingers in the familiar salute. “Scout’s honor.”

Well, that explained it. Though it was unlike any job requirement I’d ever heard of.

“About Hollins, did you mean current head of implementation as in soon to be replaced by me should I accept?” I was not going to accept reporting to some bureaucratic weasel, who objected to my horning in on his “project.” I hoped they knew that.

“I suppose if that’s the way you want it, you could negotiate that with the Director.”

I’d negotiate it alright. She didn’t seem to care one way or the other. In fact, since Director Garrison’s exit, she seemed downright care free and way more forthcoming. Maybe the latter had to do with the total disclosure bit I’d been granted.

“You seem more relaxed now than when we first met,” I told her.

“I suppose I am,” she acknowledged with a smile. “You are here and assuming you can work your mojo, everything will be put to rights.”

I had mojo? I thought it was moxie. “What do you mean exactly by work my mojo?”

“You are full of questions,” she observed.

I waggled my notepad at her and said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

She eyed me and the notepad briefly before explaining. “By mojo, I mean see what our guys are missing, solve the puzzle, and, over all, fix it. Whatever way you choose to phrase it is fine with me.”

“Just get it done.”

“Exactly,” she said, doing a sort of voila thing with her arms.

“Now if only I had my magic wand with me.”

“Don’t be absurd, Dr. Greer. Magic isn’t real.”

“Big cat men and human bloodhounds, and any number of other hybrids, aren’t supposed to be real either, yet they are.”

She considered my recounting for a moment, but then shook her head. “I suppose so, but that’s hardly magic, that’s science.”

She was right that it was science, but looking at some of the hybrids, it sure felt like I’d just crossed over into Fairy. If we could make magical looking creatures, then who was to say we couldn’t someday make magic. Or what seemed like magic. It could be some sort of physics deal that we simply didn’t understand yet or hadn’t invented yet. That was about as far as my magic theory went.

Unwilling to argue from a point of weakness, I changed the subject. “Why were you so stressed over bringing me here?”

She cut her eyes at me, and I smiled baring my teeth.

“Besides the coercion and kidnapping,” I said accusingly. “Don’t you do this sort of thing all the time?”

“You noticed that, did you?” she said guiltily.

“The Clones are hard to miss.”

“That they are,” she said, smiling softly. “Kidnapping is not our normal mode of operation. And, it wasn’t kidnapping, just detainment.”

They weren’t in the habit of kidnapping scientists extraordinaire. That would be encouraging if it didn’t point to the extremeness of the situation.

Director Garrison had said it could affect the public. Originally, I thought he’d simply meant the exposure of continuing hybrid research. But I was beginning to think it was something more serious. I’d know for sure in a few minutes when I met this Hollins guy.

Glancing at Olivia and her still smiling face, I thought someone might have feelings for a particular Clone? Do tell.

“Which Clone is that smile for?” I asked.

She cleared her throat in obvious embarrassment. “No one in particular. They have just saved my life on several occasions. Kind of got a soft spot for them now.” She lengthened her stride and pulled ahead of me. “That’s the third time you’ve called them Clones,” she tossed over her shoulder.

A subject change could only mean one thing. She was definitely into someone. Maybe not a Clone, but it was someone around here. Evidently, she did not want to talk about it.

“It was an upgrade from Goon.”

“How generous of you,” she quipped. “Are you patient as well?”

Was I patient? I didn’t think anyone had ever attributed that virtue to me. “Does wanting what I want, the way I want it, exactly when I want it count as patient?”

“You mean like a two year old?” she said, turning to wait for me.

That was one way to put it. Not the way I’d define it, but accurate nonetheless.

“That’s harsh, but exactly like,” I confessed as I reached her. “But without the fits. There may, however, either independently or in any combination, be crying, yelling, snarky looks and or throwing things.”

Even though we were the same height, it seemed like she was looking down her nose at me as she weighed my comment. “I fail to see how that is different than a two year old’s tantrum.”

“Oh, there’s one huge difference,” I said, brushing aside her skepticism.

“What’s that?”

“I’m not two,” I stated firmly.

She snorted in laughter while simultaneously rolling her eyes at me. She seemed to have ditched the elegance factor again in favor of down to earth. I liked this Olivia much better.

“Oh, that makes all the difference,” she laughed.

Precisely.

We started walking again, and I thought I heard gun shots. “Is there a shooting range nearby?” I asked.

“Just down this hallway,” she said, gesturing to another long expanse of identical hallway. “Want a peek?”

“Sure, why not,” I sighed. Was I ever going to get to the bottom of this crisis?

She turned crisply, saying, “Follow me,” as she strode confidently down the hall.

Like I had a choice. I didn’t want to get lost in here forever. Become the ghost of the Agency, doomed to walk these halls. Get a nickname like Crazy Macy. My eyes found hers, and I realized she was staring at me.

With a funny look on her face, she asked, “You okay?”

I smiled at the picture I’d just painted. “Just my overactive imagination,” I said without elaborating.

She stared at me a few more seconds, but didn’t pursue any further explanation.

At the brink of the upcoming intersection, she looked back at me to indicate that we were turning. Before she could complete her next step, Juarez came barreling around the corner and ran smack into her. Their collision flattened Olivia while I was spun off to the side.

As they detangled themselves, I heard her ask, “Is there a problem?” The look in her eyes told me she was asking about something deeper than the reason for the collision.

“Might be,” he said, pulling her to her feet.

He didn’t let her go immediately, and I suddenly felt like an intruder. She cleared her throat and cut her eyes to me. He glanced behind him to find me leaning against the wall. He smiled, and I offered him a nod and a wave.

“Were you on your way somewhere?” she prompted.

“Yeah,” he said distractedly. He rested his forehead against hers, and I just barely made out his whispered, “Stay close.” Then he dropped her hands and sped off in the direction we had come.

I watched her as she watched him speed away. She hadn’t technically lied. He wasn’t the typical Clone, but he was obviously into her. By the blush coloring her cheeks, I knew the feelings were mutual.

“Should we forego the shooting range?” I asked, rousing her from her dazed state.

“Probably best,” she nodded.

I pushed off the wall, trailing slightly behind her. “So, Juarez?” I said carefully.

“Don’t start,” she warned under her breath.

I smiled, throwing my hands up in the air in surrender. “Far be it from me to pry into personal affairs.” I mean, you’ve only been prying into mine for how long? Even knew my underwear size and my taste in coffee. But far be it from me to ask a personal question and expect an answer.

Miranda was right. I did carry on lengthy conversations with myself.

We walked past a few more intersections before I attempted to question her further. “You mentioned that the Clones saved your life. Do I get the details about the life saving part, and more importantly, will my life need saving if I agree to work here?”

“No details this go round, and I seriously hope not.”

She had resumed the professional demeanor she’d had when we first met. I was beginning to think it was some sort of defense mechanism. The collision with Juarez must have her worried about something. Maybe she’d tell me about it if I could keep her talking.

“What about an explanation for my life being observed? Nobody could have guessed my size this well, which to me means there was some definite personal prying going on.”

She looked at me with that far off expression again. She was starting to worry me with her worrying. Finally, she looked away, as if she’d just comprehended my question.

“We observe everyone we consider for a position here,” she said. “Consider it like a personality evaluation, but you didn’t have to say what the pictures looked like.”

“Yeah. That’s probably good,” I nodded. “They all look like one bacteria or another. Or burger parts.”

She looked at me with disbelief in her eyes. “Burger parts?”

“Have you seen the ink blots? It’s totally true,” I argued.

She gave a dry chuckle at my assertion.

“Just a little?” I said, measuring the distance between my thumb and forefinger.

“Thanks,” she said smiling.

“No problem. Just get me through this maze, and we’ll call it even.”

We turned one more corner and stopped in front of a huge set of stainless steel doors.

“Consider this the finish line,” she said with relief in her voice as she motioned me to stand to the side.

Was I that hard to handle? I didn’t think so. I just had what I called a strong personality. I was honest. I was frank. I was completely on guard as a panel rose and a small nozzle emerged.

I took two giant steps away from the emerging nozzle while Olivia stepped closer. As soon as it was eye level with her, it emitted a small puff of air directly at her face. She inhaled and then said, “Fear.” The nozzle then retracted back into the ceiling, and one of the big steel doors opened

What the heck just happened?

“You can come back now,” she teased. “The big scary nozzle is gone.”

She could mock me all she liked. I was not going to be caught unaware again. Besides, I was more than justified in my new nozzle phobia.

I closed the gap between us. Flicking my hand in the direction of the ascended nozzle, I asked, “Care to explain that?”

“Finger prints, retinal scans, even DNA are too easy to replicate or obtain by nefarious means. Our security system is keyed to everyone’s own personal skill set.”

“Yours being?”

“One of my skills allows me to discern emotions through the chemicals or hormones that a person releases.”

“You can scent hormones and the emotions they are connected to? In essence, you can read emotions?”

“Correct,” she affirmed.

That could come in handy. I’d never come across that in any of my research. “That is very interesting,” I told her. “So, you are the perfect liaison because you can address any worries or fears that I might have before they become an issue.”

“That was the thinking. Why are you frowning?”