Author's Note: We're back with our regularly scheduled update. And since this one is another short one, there shall be one on Wednesday too. If there wasn't this week I think you guys might kill me for the end of this chapter. With that slightly ominous sentence I shall leave to you read, review, and enjoy.
The walk to the physics lecture hall took the better part of fifteen minutes. Helena could see that students who lived on campus definitely got their exercise. As for her, her feet hurt immensely from all the walking. The boots she had chosen to wear that day hadn't exactly been the most practical thing in the world, but they made her look fabulous. And since impressing Myka had been at the top of her to do list that morning, the boots had won out over more sensible choices.
A hand grabbed hers, pulling her from her bubble of self-pity. Helena looked over. Myka's face was still forward, watching the students scurry back and forth around them. The woman was breathtakingly beautiful and she was all hers. Finally.
Helena squeezed Myka's hand gently. Even though today had not been how Helena would've preferred the day to go, she couldn't imagine doing anything else right now. Though, hopefully, they were on their way to finding whatever artifact was causing the disturbance and they would neutralize it and then soon be home to execute her more…nefarious plans for Myka Bering.
As luck would have it they walked into the lecture hall in the few minutes before the next class started. Myka went to talk to the professor while Helena looked about the room for possible artifacts. Nothing really stood out to her. It looked much like the lecture halls Helena had sat in during her own school days. Nice to know that some things didn't change.
After a few minutes, though, Helena did notice something a little strange. A few students had gotten up and walked behind the professor's desk, opened the top drawer, grabbed what looked to be a pen, and sat back down. Odd, weren't students supposed to bring their own writing utensils to class? Odder still, that they were allowed into a professor's desk.
Helena walked forward to stand beside Myka, still talking to the professor.
"Hello professor," she said, interrupting him, and smiling the slightly seductive smile that melted all men.
The professor smiled back. "Hello, Miss?"
"Wells."
"Ah Miss Wells. I'm Professor De. Your partner was just asking me a few questions about students of the physics department."
"Yes, it seems all the disappeared students all take physics oddly enough." She stopped and nodded towards another student who was grabbing a pen out from the drawer. "What's that all about? I thought students were responsible for their own supplies."
"Ah, a professor here years ago started the tradition. Brilliant man, but always forgetting his pens everywhere. He set up a drawer of pens for himself and the students to borrow from. It's continued ever since. The students are very good about returning the pens, oddly enough. I don't think we've had to replace the pens in there, ever." He shrugged.
Helena and Myka exchanged a glance. Perhaps this was where their artifact resided. They broke of the conversation with the professor as quickly as was polite and walked over to the pen drawer, pulling on their purple gloves. They opened the drawer together. Myka shuffled the pen around for a few seconds before they both of them saw it, an old fancy ball point pen.
Both their hands touched it at the same time.
Helena felt a strange sensation wash over her. Her head spun, her legs wobbled. What was going on? She was wearing her artifact gloves, the artifact shouldn't be able to activate, so what was happening?
She looked up at Myka. Myka had her hand to her head, her face tightly drawn. It seemed that she was experiencing much the same symptoms as Helena.
The author reached up and took the artifact bag from Myka, opening it and shoving it in. Instead of the normal sparks, nothing happened. Helena's stomach sunk to the ground. This couldn't be good.
"Myka," she said, voice shaky.
"What?" The other woman asked, opening her eyes.
"It didn't spark."
She shrugged. "Maybe it isn't the artifact?"
"And what exactly would you call this sudden illness that seems to have overcome both of us after touching that pen? Coincidence? Myka, I think we've been over that no such thing exists at the Warehouse."
Myka bit her lip. "We'll take it with us just in case, but we should keep investigating just to be safe."
Helena scowled but nodded her ascent.
They exited the lecture hall and walked back onto the campus. Helena felt worse and worse. Beside her Myka had started to lean more heavily on her shoulder. She led them to a bench and sat them both down.
"Myka, something is happening." Helena leaned back against the bench.
"Ok, so maybe something is. We had our gloves on; this shouldn't be the artifact, if the pen was the artifact at all."
Helena brought her head up and just looked levelly at Myka. "Do you have another suggestion for what this could be?"
"Maybe we should call Artie…" Myka trailed off.
Helena dug out the Farnsworth and handed it to Myka. The agent pressed the call button and leaned her head against Helena's shoulder. A second later Artie's face filled the screen.
"What?" He asked in his typical short manner.
"Artie, I think we might have found the artifact, but-" Myka's voice broke in the middle of the sentence.
"But what?" The older man scowled.
"But we think the artifact might have activated even though we were wearing the purple gloves," Helena finished for Myka.
"Nonsense, that doesn't happen and even if it did, you should be fine if you put it in the containment bag."
Helena weakly raised an eyebrow. "What about the time Steve was burned through the gloves by the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory door knob? And Artie, do you think that wasn't the first thing we did? The bag didn't give off any sparks."
Artie sputtered for a few seconds before falling silent. "Alright, what's happening?"
"Myka and I got suddenly sick when we touched this pen." She held it up to the screen. "Myka seems to be getting worse faster than I am, as well."
"Whose pen is it?"
"If I had known that Artie I would've told you. All I know is that we found it in a community pen drawer in the physics lecture hall at Stanford that all three of the students who disappeared attended." Helena's patience was wearing thin.
"Alright, alright." He typed something into the computer and hit enter.
A sharp pain went through Helena. The Farnsworth dropped from her hand. Beside her Myka jerked up.
"Helena," Myka's voice was very scared. "What's going on?"
"I don't know."
Another pain shot through her and then everything went black.