I always forget this! Do not own them - just enjoy these characters.
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Chapter One IQ, UQ, We all Queue for IQ
There has been a lot of controversy surrounding IQ tests but they are still widely used especially in certain jobs such as the Secret Service. The tests do not measure intelligence but rather one's capacity for intelligence. While there are many misconceptions and debates about the testing of brainpower, one thing is certain. People are greatly biased by knowing their own IQ or someone else's.
Intelligence testing was part of the battery of tests that each of the agents was subjected to and HG was no exception. When she reentered the Warehouse personnel, her files had to be updated to include all of the components that every file contained. A special IT team was called in to help create HG's past so that there was no gap of one hundred years in the system. She had a seamless history now and the documents to back it up.
The personnel files were confidential and in the case of the Warehouse Agents, sealed. No one could access those files without the highest clearance and authority. That is, unless you were a mastermind hacker who went places you shouldn't when you were totally bored. And that is exactly what happened one day when Artie was not in the Warehouse and Claudia found herself with too much time on her hands.
"Holy freaking Einstein!" she said as her nimble fingers flew across the keyboard with illegal strokes. She did not access grade, salary, clearance level, history, commendations, psychological evaluations, or financial history even though each was a simple click away. That would be an invasion of privacy akin to the Invasion of Normandy.
No, the young computer sleuth checked out only one list about her fellow agents; IQ. Claudia had a general understanding of what the numbers meant and she wasn't surprised that the entire Warehouse staff had scores within the superior intelligence classification. What did surprise her a little was HG's score which clearly put her in a class by herself. It was so high that one government mandate stated that it should be noted agents of this classification typically become too bored by the tasks required of them. That is why Mrs. Frederic allowed HG to have special projects and to work on her inventions in addition to the Warehouse work. But she also allowed Myka full use of the Warehouse Library, Pete his Pete-Cave and Claudia access to top computer databases. A bored agent was a dangerous thing in Mrs. Frederic's book.
Claudia meant to keep this top secret information to herself. She was doing it more for the exercise of hacking than fact finding. And she would never have mentioned it to anyone had she not left the screen open on the computer in the Warehouse Office. Artie was going to have her head!
She was down in the Warehouse when she called up to Pete to read her the shelf number the artifact she held carefully was supposed to be returned to. Reluctantly, he scooted over to the desk to get her the info but what he saw first on the screen was the IQ file. He read it, minimized it and then found the information she was looking for. It wasn't until she returned to the office did she suspect something was up from the look on his face.
"I am freaking bright, aren't I?" he said to her because he already knew she had hacked into the file.
"What? What do you mean?" she asked nervously because the expression on his face was too happy.
"If I had to guess, I'd say my brightness shines somewhere in the superior IQ class range," he said with total satisfaction.
Claudia jumped to the chair and spun him out of her way. To her horror, there was the screen with the test numbers. A sudden sick feeling came to her stomach. She quickly closed the file and noticed now her hands were shaking.
"Pete, please you can't say a word to anyone about this. Artie will kill me," she pleaded.
"Kill you for what?" Myka asked as she and HG walking into the room.
"Nothing. Just, you know, for messing around with his computer. Not for anything specific like hacking. No, I mean, you know just for messing around," Claudia stammered.
"Man, you are a terrible liar," Pete said not covering for her at all.
"Thanks, Sherlock," Claudia said annoyed.
"You sound nervous," Myka pointed out to her young colleague.
"No, you know, just eh finishing up here. Thanks, Pete," she said as she pushed him away from the desk and tried desperately to look preoccupied. She silently prayed they would lose interest and Pete would keep his mouth shut.
The distraction came in the form of a yelp when HG caught the skin on her finger in the zipper on her winter coat. It was one of those deep freeze kind with a jacket within a jacket and as many zippers to close. She longed for a simple wool coat with buttons but Myka had told her that the South Dakota winds would go right through that so HG gave in and bought this.
"Myka!" she all but whined when she couldn't get the two zippers to move in unison. She felt perfectly comfortable standing there waiting for Myka to attempt to do this since she was the one who insisted on buying the damn thing.
Myka diligently bent down and inspected the two fasteners and lined them up precisely so they would close. She shook her head and smiled at her partner who stood there patiently waiting for Myka to finish.
"Some genius," Pete said and then purposely turned to Claudia in case there was any doubt in her mind that he has seen everyone's testing results.
"Pete!" she yelled and shut off the computer screen and began to get ready herself to end the work day.
"I'm just saying, you would think a genius could figure out how to zipper a coat," he continued to elaborate. He intended his sentiments to only push his younger friend's buttons and forgot that the subject was also there – listening.
"Excuse me, Agent Lattimer, but it is not my fault that my excellent mind and dual dexterity do not translate into being able to endeavor this cumbersome mode of closure on my outer sheathing," HG explained none too patiently.
"That's a whole lotta words to say 'can't zip my own jacket'" Pete said satirically.
It was enough to make HG approach him but Myka still had hold of her jacket and simply held onto it to keep her in place. 'If the Lord giveth and taketh away,' Myka thought, then what the Supreme Being gave Helena in brilliance, She took away in patience. Myka got the zipper closed and stop short of HG's chin.
"I don't need to zip this all the way, do I?" she teased but the joke didn't register.
"OK, let's go home," Claudia announced and rushed her fellow agents out the door. Artie was due back soon and she did not want to run into him. The last time he caught her fooling around the Warehouse, she had to write 'I will not disobey Artie' a gazillion times. He'd have it tattooed on her if he found out she hacked into files.
"Myka, I can't find my gloves," HG announced stopping short of the egress. Helena had learned her lesson about thinking she could brave the elements.
"You know, we could get you those mittens that connect so you could pull them through your coat," Pete teased her.
"Mittens? That wouldn't do. Then I wouldn't be able to pull the trigger on my Tesla when I shoot you, Mr. Lattimer," HG quipped.
Bantering with HG was not a shooting event you wanted to show up at short on ammo.
They piled into the SUV and HG waited for the car to heat up as she sat there freezing in spite of the coat, gloves and hat. She had not adjusted to the weather of her new environment and although she enjoyed the white blankets that often coated the ground, the cold was still something of a shock to her system. Leena had seen to it that HG had extra blankets and Myka shopped with her for heavy clothing. But more often than not, it was HG alone who was chilly when everyone else had warmed up.
"It's that Celtic blood," Myka teased her and she wasn't far off. The coldest temperature HG had experienced in London winters was still higher than South Dakota on a warmest winter day. The nights were the worst. One night when the temperatures dipped well below zero, Myka knocked on HG's door and found her buried under blankets, wrapped up in pajamas and robe with a Dartmouth hoodie that Pete lent her. She looked pathetic - shivering unable to get warm. Myka lit a fire in the fireplace to radiate a little more heat and got into bed with her and held her. Helena could not remember feeling such warmth; certainly not since she had crossed the pond, so to speak. It was the best night sleep Helena had since winter broke in South Dakota and much to Myka's surprise, the best one she had since she started working at the Warehouse. It was a nice feeling to be needed Myka thought.
The agents went into the B&B where Leena had prepared them a spread of comfort foods. And afterwards, she made Helena tea which always helped warm the Brit.
"Let's watch Jeopardy," Myka suggested because it was one of her favorite shows.
Claudia and Pete tolerated it because Myka often watched their shows. But they found it boring when night after night; their fellow agent calling out answer after answer correctly. God, she was good. The suggestion brought Pete back to the list he saw on the computer.
"Yes, let's ALL watch it. I mean, we're all so superiorly bright and all," he said renewing his poking at Claudia.
He spent too much time getting in trouble for playing with artifacts not to enjoy someone else on the hot seat. His sudden enthusiasm caused suspicion though.
"You want to watch it?" Myka asked pleased to have the enthusiasm.
"Oh, yes I do! I think we should all play. Claud, you in?" he asked and was met with the dead look in the younger woman's eyes.
"You're not funny, Pete," Claudia said through clenched teeth and it was obvious now to Myka that something was going on.
"Claudia, are you OK?" Myka asked.
"She's fine now. But you better check back later when Artie gets back," Pete said.
He didn't really get what the big deal was. So she hacked! She always hacked. And so what they knew their IQ's. They didn't get to where they were by being low on the scale. Myka read every book there ever was and had an eidetic memory. He was highly trained agent and had vibes. Claudia was the technology whiz kid. And HG was as Pete like to put it, "Bloody brilliant," based on what Mrs. Frederic called her when she rejoined the Warehouse; brilliant beyond what we have seen before.
Pete didn't know that Artie didn't care for the high praise his boss paid HG in saying that. He preferred to think all his agents were bright and good at what they did. Each brought something to the team and that was all he needed to know. In fact, he spent most of his time struggling with the things his dazzling agent wouldn't do; like following protocol if it didn't suit her.
"Pete!" Claudia admonished him. "If you're so freaking bright, you'd know Artie is going to have a fit if he finds out," she explained to him.
"Why, you're always hacking," he said flatly and now Myka and HG focused their attention.
"Claud, what did you hack into?" Myka asked with the right amount of concern and panic because she knew Artie would not be happy.
"You know, I was bored and just checking out the mainframe files and …. Really, I was checking to see how secure the files are and boy, can I tell you that they're not really as secure as Artie thinks because I was able to … you know without too much trouble, get right into the personnel files. Which is a good thing because now I can help them secure them," Claudia babbled her crime and defense all in one soliloquy.
"Your IQ is of Superior Intelligence," Pete said to Myka.
"You saw the files?" Myka asked incredulously.
"She left it open on the screen," he said defensively.
"OK, OK so you know our IQ's. What's the big deal? I mean, those numbers really don't tell the whole picture anyway," Myka tried to think it all through.
"True, true, Myka. But they do tell I am three points ahead of you," Pete said in a friendly, competitive tone.
He was just happy to be in the same company as Myka because he admired her so much. But it came across a little threatening to Myka who didn't want to make a big deal out of it until she heard Pete point out the numerical difference.
"What do you mean three points?" she asked and HG could see her partner stiffen up.
"You know, Myka, three as in more than two less than four, trois in French, tres in Spanish, drei in German, three," he said trying to be funny and falling short. He saw the look on his partner's face. "I'm kidding, Myka. Geez, I guess it doesn't measure sense of humor," he said irked.
Just then the host of the show read the clue: In the Iliad this dwarven race from Africa fought against cranes who destroyed their fields.
"What is Illyrian?" Myka answered and HG cautioned her.
"What is pygmy?" Pete yelled out correctly and stunned his fellow agents.
Helena watched the expression on Myka's face turn from stunned to brewing frustration. Inside that head, Myka struggled with the logic of knowing the number did not matter and the emotion of feeling threatened. She felt bad and didn't want to give in to that feeling. But she rarely got the answer incorrect.
As if reading her mind, Helena leaned over. "Myka, it's a silly number. It means nothing. It is not even a true indicator of how smart one is. And you my dear are in a class by yourself," HG smiled and her words were soothing.
"Absolutely HG!" Pete said. "Which is why it shouldn't faze you I was only seven points less than you," Pete said.
"What? No bloody way, Lattimer. Your score could not be anywhere near mine. I refuse to believe that. With all due respect Pete, it's simply impossible," the Brit said indignantly and drew the icy look of Myka's eyes demanding an explanation for the change in her tune.
"I thought it was just a number, Helena?" Myka said crossing her arms defensively.
"Oh, it is darling. But really, Myka," her partner stumbled to find the right words, "….But truly, there simply is no way his score could be close to mine," HG tried.
"But he could be close to mine?" Myka said as HG dug herself deeper.
It was going to be a very cold night for Helena.
TBC