Monday Oct 9 2006
Covington, Upper Peninsula, Michigan

The 'cabin' used by Andy Grissom and his companions for their regular hunting trip was anything but rustic. It belonged to an old Team Four buddy who'd advanced to a senior position in IO's Personnel Division, and it was everything one might expect of the vacation-getaway home of a single man with an eight-figure income. The five thousand square foot structure, situated on a ridge overlooking Worm Lake, had six bedrooms and three baths, Jacuzzi and sauna, a kitchen with professional furnishings, and a great room with a twenty-foot ceiling. One wall of the big room was dominated by a huge stone fireplace; another was made of triple-pane glass giving a view – on clear days – down the wooded slope to the lake below. The TV area, with its three couches and six-foot flatscreen, barely took a bite out of the room's two thousand square feet of floor space; neither did the two pool tables, or the six-seat bar area. There was plenty of room for a couple of card tables, which were set up and occupied.

The friends spent almost all their time on these 'hunting' trips indoors; for the next five days they would mostly eat and drink, talk, play games, and watch TV. Although they'd all brought guns, the only use the weapons were likely to get was on the practice targets just outside. After a man has hunted quarry that shoots back, he often loses interest in prey animals. Besides, Andy thought, they were all getting kind of old to be tramping through the woods with two feet of snow on the ground and the temp hovering in the low teens.

Andy and Mike Diehl, their host, played pool while their friends played cards and drank. Not all of the group drank alcoholic beverages; Mike, for one, had gone on the wagon years before, though he always stocked the fridge and liquor cabinet with his friends' favorites and sent them home with whatever was left. A couple of Mike's guests simply didn't want to get so early a start on their week-long party. But everyone had a glass or can or bottle near at hand, whether their choice was Smirnoff, Molson or Gatorade.

"Hey, Mike," one of the men at the tables called. "What's the weather supposed to be like tomorrow?"

Another spread his handful of cards in a fan and stared at it. "More snow. My knees can predict it better than the frickin National Weather Service."

Mike bent over the table to take his shot. "Maybe six inches tomorrow. The TV weather guy was almost embarrassed to mention it. By January, that hardly counts as a flurry around here."

Andy watched his friend stroke his third solid into a corner pocket and said, "Take a little walk before it gets dark? I could use some air."

"Sure," Mike said, eye on the cue ball. He stroked it into another solid, which missed its intended pocket. Andy took over and dropped in a stripe before missing. Eventually the game was over, and the two men donned coats and stepped outside.

While the snow lay deep in the woods all around, a broad area around the house was paved and plowed, including a wide drive and several parking spaces. Feet crunching in the thin drifts, breath forming clouds in the still cold air, the two men strolled toward the parking area. When they were around the corner from the big windows, Andy reached into his pocket and drew out the scrambler. "Meant to get this back to you sooner."

Diehl glanced at the TV-remote-sized device, then slipped it into his pocket. "Like I said, no hurry. These things don't get taken out of the armory often. Didn't use it on anything that's gonna make headlines, I hope."

"Nothing like."

"No trouble with it? It's not much like the one you asked for. I didn't even know we made a rifle version."

"It was easy enough to figure out. I think the one I used was a prototype; it was a long time ago."

The man looked off into the woods, avoiding Andy's eyes. "Can you tell me about it?"

All the men on this vacation trip were veterans of IO's Expeditionary Teams. The others in their party had moved from field work to administrative or training duties years before,while Andy had been inexplicably retained in the field. Mike Diehl, IO's Director of Personnel and an old friend from Andy's Team Four days, had looked with skepticism on Andy's 'retirement', certain that IO would never let go of a man with Andrew Grissom's talent over a heart murmur; Mike believed that the Shop still called on him for odd jobs that required a greater-than-normal degree of deniability. Andy had found that mistaken assumption useful: Mike had shared information with him that even the old friends at the card table would never be privy to. "Special project," Andy said."SPT."

Mike nodded and asked no more. 'Surgical personal targeting' was a Shop buzz-phrase for assassination; the Personnel chief wouldn't ask his friend to divulge information that might incriminate him. And the excuse was even true, in a way; targeting couldn't get any more personal than pointing a weapon at someone's head. Not that Andrew Grissom would ever have stood trial for killing Annie, of course, whether in the lab or the daycare's playground. He felt uncomfortable, but not from the cold.

Mike looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "You okay?"

"Just thinking all the ways that one could have gone bad."

The other man nodded. "I saw your boy at Central. Looks like he's doing well. They'll be putting him in the field soon, I think." The IO officer looked at him keenly. "You know what he's doing."

Andy nodded. "I know about Special Security, Mike. And who he's detailed to."

Mike Diehl showed no surprise at his 'retired' friend's knowledge of classified info, but he didn't ask if Dan had told him. "Yeah. They did a crap job keeping Chula Vista under wraps, didn't they? Not that I have a clue how they could have done better."

Andy looked away to hide his surprise. "Yeah." All he knew about events at Chula Vista was the story he'd heard on the news last April: that a freak storm, a one-of-a-kind atmospheric anomaly, had smashed an industrial park at the eastern edge of town. By coincidence, the park had been shut down for the day so that some HRT types could practice urban scenarios. The storm had hit with the suddenness and power of an artillery barrage, and flying debris had injured or killed a great many of the troopers. For security reasons, no names had been given, either of the dead and injured or of the organization they'd been part of. Weather experts were offering a number of theories about the origin of the storm, and the global warming debate had been a little louder for a while before it all faded from the public consciousness. Now, suddenly, Andy knew all that was bullshit. Chula Vista had been a battleground, IO against Gens, and IO had been handed their asses. And people like his son had been killed. "Was it all Lynch's people?"

"Looks like, except for the little blonde. We're not sure where she came from."

Little blonde? Of course, Annie wouldn't have let her kids walk into danger unescorted. The Chula Vista business had come right on the heels of Westminster Mall, and had quickly crowded it off the front pages. Just one more little thing she forgot to tell me about."I thought they established her as part of the group."

"Not the same girl. At least, we don't think so."

Again, Andy felt a chill that didn't come from the winter air. "Describe her."

Mike looked at him carefully."Five-one to five-three, a buck to a buck twenty. Honey blonde, waist length, worn in a braid."

"How often have you looked at these pictures without noticing the hair?" The chill deepened. She told me the one I saw in the photos was destroyed. Do they all look alike, then? Except for Annie, because she was refurbished? "She kill anybody?"

"One, for sure. Put her fist into his sinus cavity, right through his bulletproof face shield. And she's the one beat Colby to pulp. For fun." He paused. "Oh. Cracker accent. Could be fake, I suppose."

"Eye color?" The grinning monster in the photograph had had Annie's eyes.

"Really think anybody who got that close had other things on his mind at the time." Mike's eyes were locked on him. "What do you know, Griss?"

Andy didn't like misleading his old friend, a man who'd seen him at his worst and probably saved his life more than once. It was his first taste of the bitter brew his son had been sampling since beginning training at Central. He shook his head. "Nothing solid. But I've been picking up little bits for a long time."

"Like?"

"Like, Westminster Mall wasn't the first time one of them popped up on the radar." He decided to reveal a little information, both as proof he was also an insider and as an investment towards further trust. "You remember that little party just before the balloon went up in 'Ninety?"

Mike's head bobbed, and a puff of mist came from his nostrils. "I still dream about it, man. You?"

He nodded. "Burt ever talk about it? The insertion, especially?" Andy watched Mike's expression change as he got it. Burt, one of the guests back in the house, was a former Team Six member whose people had flown into Iraq with five masked strangers in the opposite seat. "I've got no proof. But I think the five guys who blew the reactor were five girls."

"Fuck. We've been working with them?"

"Maybe just that one time. But it means that somebody making decisions high up knew about them and could talk them into a big favor."

"Craven," Mike said. "Had to be. Now he's gone, and they want to take IO down brick by brick. He must have fucked them over good."

Andy puffed out a white cloud. "Lynch and his bunch start taking things personal, it could get very hairy for our people in the field." Especially for the ones working for the other side, if IO finds out about us…

Diehl dropped a hand on his shoulder. "We'll be better prepared next time, Griss. That's what the buildup on the Lynch team is about."

And maybe they'll be better prepared too.

-0-

Andrew felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking it. "C'mon, Griss," Mike said. "Up and at em."

He opened his eyes. His friend was dressed for outdoors and carrying a rifle. "What the hell, Mike?"

"Just got a call. We're back on the clock."

"I'm retired."

"Not tonight. Shake it. The others are already gone."

He threw off the covers. "What time is it?"

"About midnight."

"What kind of job does IO have for a bunch of desk jockeys out in the boonies in the middle of the night?"

"It's not exactly an op. Just a little chore that's come up, and we're handy." Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "Turns out the Shop has a research facility close by. Some big secret. Bet your ass I didn't know, or I'd never have built here. A bunch of lab animals got loose, and they want us to hunt them down quick."

Suddenly Andy realized he was dressed. Had he just managed to throw his clothes on still half-asleep, or … had he gone to bed with his clothes on, and only just noticed? Everything felt oddly unreal – probably from having been wakened suddenly into this unexpected situation.

Diehl led the way through the great room, which was dim and quiet. The fire was burned down to embers. The billiard table had most of its balls still on the felt, and two cues lay across the rails. At the card tables, hands lay facedown, and half-finished drinks sat at every place. It gave Andy an eerie feeling, as if the big house was inhabited by ghosts.

Something else about the scene bothered him: the apparent suddenness of his friends' departure. "How long have they been gone?"

Diehl offered Andy a heavy coat from the hall closet; he was already wearing one. Had he had it on when he'd shaken Andy awake? He couldn't remember. "Hour, maybe. I'd have let you sleep through, but I want to check on them, and I might need some help. Nobody's answering the phone."

Andy paused halfway into the coat. "Trouble?"

"Not likely. Reception's for shit around here. Even sat phones don't work half the time."

How can that be? Satellite phones are supposed to work anywhere. Unless…Something niggled at the back of Andy's mind, but Diehl turned to the door leading to the attached garage, and the thought slipped away as Andy followed.

The headlights of Diehl's four-wheel-drive illuminated a narrow snow-drifted road pressed close by evergreens. The snow glowed in the light, making the sky appear black. The vehicle was parked on the shoulder, engine idling. Andy blinked. "How long have we been on the road?"

"Just a few minutes. Like I said, it's close. You fall back asleep?"

"Guess I must have."

"Well, the cold air will wake you up." Diehl killed the lights and shut off the motor. "Let's go."

The air bit at him when he opened the door; he figured the temp must be in the single digits. Andy looked up and down the road: only their own tires had marked it. "Is this where the rest of them are supposed to be?"

"Hereabout." Diehl handed him the rifle. "We're going in by a different route. Shorter." He led the way into the trees.

Andy's booted feet sank to his calves at every step. His night vision adjusted quickly, but he still felt blind as he crunched his way through the trees behind his former squadmate. The snow seemed to radiate a pale ghostly luminance like reflected moonlight, though the sky overhead was black and starless. It provided plenty of light to walk by, but the woods surrounding him remained dark, and he couldn't make out anything more than ten steps in any direction. Ahead, Diehl's legs were backlighted by the snow, but his upper body faded into shadow against the deeper dark of the trees.

Although Andy was full of questions, he felt strangely reluctant to ask them. There was a great deal he hadn't been told, and he knew the missing information was important, but he felt a weird compulsion to simply trust his friend and let events unfold –throwback to training, maybe? He listened hard, but there were no sounds not of their making. He wondered again at their prospects for catching a bunch of rats or chimpanzees or whatever; unless the area was solidly fenced in, such a hunt was sheer waste of time. Then he saw his breath in the air, and was reminded of the cold. "Mike," he said in a low voice, "what kind of animals are we looking for?"

"You'll know them when you see them, Griss. I think first we'll find the others, then we'll-" He stopped. "Bingo." Diehl abruptly changed direction, and a moment later, Andy saw why: they'd crossed the tracks of another hunter, and Diehl was now following them.

The woods around them changed. The men were still surrounded by evergreens, but now interspersed among the Christmas-tree spruces were trees with large bare trunks and thick reaching branches sporting clusters of needles instead of leaves. Something about them arching overhead gave Andy a sense of foreboding.

A shot sounded, faint with distance but clear in the still cold air. Two more followed rapidly. Andy said, "We're not trying to capture them."

"No. They're more dangerous than they look, Griss. Way more Quick containment is top priority." Mike slowed, studying the ground. Andy studied the deep tracks as well, trying to see to the shadowed bottom where the footprints were: something about them didn't seem right. But it didn't come to him before Mike said, "Here," and Andy saw that the trail ended at the base of one of the tree trunks. Mike produced a big flashlight and shone it up into the branches.

A human being, naked and shivering violently, stood on one of the branches ten feet up, clinging to the trunk. A girl. Andy just had time to register the figure's wild copper hair and the glint of the metal collar on her neck before she stared down into the light, unseeing and terrified.

Kat.

"Does look a little like a treed puma," Diehl said, looking up into the tree, and Andy realized he'd breathed her name aloud. "Don't know why Central's so worried about them getting away. None of them would last another hour out here like that. Well. I'll hold the light, you take the shot."

Incredulous, Andy stared at his friend. "You can't be serious."

"Dead serious." Mike waved an arm upward. "This isn't just some random chick off the street, Grissom. This is one of IO's experiments. We both know the Shop plays with some seriously nasty shit, and they play for keeps. Maybe she's a plague carrier, or knows how to dupe the nuclear launch codes. I don't really need to know specifics." He frowned. "Come on, man. When did you ever need a dossier on somebody they put in your crosshairs?" He locked eyes. "It's not like you know her or anything."

Andy's hands flexed on the rifle. They know.

Mike saw it, sighed softly, and shook his head. "You really are getting old, Griss. Time was, you'd never have taken anybody's word that a gun was loaded." He reached into his coat and produced a pistol. "Let's get this over with. Turn your back if you want, I won't tell." Andy stopped breathing until the other man said,"Then we can join the others, and I'll tell them you did it." Diehl pointed flashlight and weapon back up into the trees. Andy changed the grip on the rifle, preparing to buttstroke the old friend who'd probably just bent orders to spare his life.

A voice from the shadows made them both start. "You'll be joining the others sooner than you expect."

Something rushed out of the darkness, throwing up a cloud of snow. It struck Diehl, who grunted as he was thrown off his feet. There was a snapping sound, and the man was lying half-buried in a snowdrift half a dozen feet away, an icy mist of fine snow drifting down around him. The flashlight, now lying far from his hand, shone on the trunk of the tree, and on a figure in black-and-gray camo crouched between Andy and its base.

It was the creature from the photos. Her braided tail fell over her shoulder and brushed the snow. It was stained with blood, as were her hands and jacket. She grinned at him. There was blood in her teeth.

Andy lifted his weapon, somehow unsurprised to see it wasn't a Ruger anymore but the EMP rifle from the lab. The sighting dot found the little monster's forehead and madea caste mark.

Caitlin, invisible in the darkness above, spoke for the first time."P-p-please. No."

"Which of us is she talking to, do you suppose?" The creature spoke with Annie's voice, but the inflection was all wrong, twisted by madness. "Time to get off the fence, eh, Sarge? And I guess I see which side you came down on."

"Annie?" The red dot wavered on her forehead. "No."

"No," she agreed. "She's not here, not anymore. She didn't want to be me again, ever. But." She briefly turned her eyes upward to indicate the girl in the tree. "She did say she'd do anything, didn't she?" Still grinning, she took a step towards him. "Think your clothes may just fit the redhead, if I don't mess them up too bad."

"Annie, forgive me." He pulled the trigger.

She stopped; so did his heart. Then the grin widened. "Like your buddy said, Sarge. You can't trust somebody else to tell you a gun is loaded."

"Griss! Wake up!" Diehl's voice again, and a hand shaking his shoulder.

He jerked to a sitting position. He was lying on a couch in the lodge. Mike was standing over him, worry creasing his face. Past him, Andy could see a table full of card players staring, then looking away. He pressed a hand to his hammering heart.

"Griss," Mike said, "do you need something?"

"No." He took deep breaths, and felt his pulse slow. He glanced at the cheerily burning fireplace: gas logs, not wood. "Bad dream."

Mike nodded. "We've all had our share."

Later, when Andy was in the kitchen downing one of his pills with a glass of water, Burt came in to fetch a round. As he pulled items out of the fridge, he said, "Mike's right, Griss. We all been there. If you need to talk about something, this is the place."

Not this shit, Andy thought. This is the exact wrong place to talk about it. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

Burt shut the refrigerator and turned to him. "Don't say anything if you don't want, but… This girl Annie. Somebody you lost?"

Jesus Christ, I talked in my sleep? Andy took a shaky breath. "Yeah. Somebody I lost."But did I ever really have her?

Tuesday Oct 10
Escondido

"Happy eighteenth, Eddie." Sarah smiled at him from the kitchen doorway. "The boy becomes a man."

Eddie paused with the cereal-laden spoon halfway to his mouth. There'd been a tectonic shift in Sarah's attitude since she'd started spending her nights with Bobby, and the change was more than welcome, but sometimes he wondered what was going on behind those dark–chocolate eyes these days. "Uh, thanks, Princess. You're the first to mention." Not surprising, since the sun wasn't even warming the windows yet.

"Really. I'm sure Anna remembers."

"Haven't seen her yet. L-Man either. Kat is still sleeping." Cautiously, he asked, "What about Bobby?"

"Dead to the world. Roxanne?"

"Think I heard her in the bathroom. But she might not even remember. You know how she is with dates."

The Apache Princess scoffed. "She knows." She turned. "I'll be right back." By the time Eddie had the bowl tipped to his lips for the last swallow of milk, she reappeared at the door, her hands behind her back. "Mr. Lynch says IO is already pulling out of town, but it'll still be a few days before he feels safe letting us leave the house. I've got something in mind to buy you, but I didn't want the day to go by without giving you something." She brought one hand forward and presented him with an envelope, greeting-card size.

"Thanks." He reached to take the card from her hand, but she didn't let go. He looked up and met her eyes.

She said, "I can't even remember what I got you the past two years."

"Sixteenth was a book about sexual addiction. Last year, I got a tie."

She scoffed. "I really made a project out of putting you down, didn't I? I even tried to drive a wedge between you and Roxanne. Protectiveness was part of it, I'm sure, but not the biggest part. I guess I was just trying to make you as unhappy as I was. I owe you for that." She leaned forward. "They say the best gift is one that you know the other person wants but would never ask for." She let go of the envelope.

Puzzled, he opened the flap on the envelope and drew out the card. Only, it wasn't a card, it was a piece of heavy photo paper, blank. He flipped it over…

Eddie's eyes felt as big as golf balls as he stared. He tried to say something, but when he opened his mouth, all that came out was, "Guh."

"Nice to see I've still got it."Her voice was coolly amused, more like the old Sarah."Anna took it for me last night, with grave misgivings and a slew of warnings. But I think she did a good job, don't you?"

The picture was a digital of Sarah, standing at the foot of her lamplit bed in a pinup-girl pose, turned three-quarters away and looking over her shoulder at the camera. Her inky hair, unbound, cascaded in a thick tangle down her back. She wasn't wearing so much as an earring. There was no frontal exposure, but he was seeing all he could ever want of the Princess's bare booty and legs and hips and shoulders and wasp-slender waist, a visual feast of flawless café-au-lait skin. Both heels were raised off the floor, shaping her thighs and calves in a way that made his glutes tighten, and one slightly raised knee drew the eyes like magnets to her exposed inner thigh. One hand rested suggestively on the ball of the footboard's tall corner post; the back of the other brushed her ass, almost caressing it. Her slightly raised arm gave him a beautiful side view of her breast, with only the nipple hidden. The pose seemed to convey that she'd just walked to the bed and paused to see if she was being followed. The look in her eye could only mean one thing. His vapor-soaked brain supplied a caption: Coming?

Finally, he coughed out, "Uh, I think there's a mixup. This one's for Bobby."

"No, it's not. Not counting Darwin's basement, you're now the fourth man to see me naked since puberty. And, FYI, Bobby's not one of the other three."

He pulled his eyes away from the photo. Sarah's other hand was out from behind her back now, holding a pair of scissors. "Tiny pieces and down the disposer, Mister Photographic Memory. I'd say burn it, but it would set off the smoke detector."

"Surprised it hasn't gone off already. Sarah, I…"

She smiled a secret smile and put the scissors in his hand. "You're welcome. Better hurry, before somebody comes downstairs."

-0-

Sitting on the daycare's playground bench, Adrienne caught her son's smile and wave from the top of the slide and returned them. The smocked young woman watching the kids for the daycare gave her a little smile as well before giving her attention to a child tugging on her sleeve. Drew let go of the rails and slid down, then headed for the monkey bars.

Adrienne's phone chimed. She looked at the display: blank. Her grip tightened a little on the phone, and she took in a deep breath and let it out slowly before she pressed the 'send' button to connect. "Hello?"

"Hey, stranger."

"Hi, Kat."She looked out over the playground at her boy, now climbing the nest of pipes.

"I didn't wake you up, I'm sure. I can hear the kid riot. Daycare?"

"Right. Drew's hanging by his heels as we speak." She kept her voice light and even, and her eyes on her child.

"You sound tired."

"Short nights. I'm interviewing, dancers and staff both. Most of them already have jobs at other clubs, and day jobs too. So I'm meeting them after closing."

"And getting up on four hours' sleep to see Drew." Adrienne could hear the smile in the other woman's voice. "Swear, you'd do anything for that little guy."

She blinked rapidly and swallowed. "Yeah. I really would."

"Adrienne." Kat's voice turned low and concerned. "This isn't just lack of sleep. What's wrong?"

"Might be coming down with something. You still on lockdown, girlfriend?"

"Smooth change of subject. Yes, but I should make parole by the weekend. Maybe we could do something."

"That'd be nice if I can squeeze it in. The remodeling crews work Saturdays, and Sunday is my day with Drew."

"Hm." A moment of silence, then: "Adrienne, have you talked to Daniel lately?"

She reminded herself to breathe normally. "Not since Friday. I drove him home from the airport. He was with Drew and Andy when I left him." The first time.

"He didn't call last night. That's not like him. I know he talks to you sometimes late, and I thought maybe."

"No." She watched her son, concentrating on his smile, remembering the scent of his hair in the sun and the living warmth of him in her arms. "I think he was expecting a rough week at work. Maybe they're just keeping him too busy."

"Yeah… I suppose. Listen, if he calls you…"

"I'll let him know you're worried about him."

"Don't say that. Just… sound him out, you know? Find out if he's okay."

"Okay." Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears. "And you do the same. But I've got a feeling he won't be calling either of us this week." She glanced at her watch: twelve minutes left until the end of recess. "Listen, Drew's about to go in. I need to say goodbye to him."

"Kay. I'll talk to you later. Take care."

"Caitlin."

"Hm?"

"I really like you, Kat. I just wanted to say that."

"Well-" The girl seemed at a loss for a moment. "I like you too, Adrienne. A lot."A pause. "I have a cousin. I haven't seen her in years, but she's like a big sister to me. Having you for a friend is almost like having Karen back in my life."

Adrienne closed her eyes. "Thanks. Gotta go. Talk to you later." She disconnected. When she opened them, Drew was standing in front of her with solemn eyes. Without a word, he sat on the bench beside her, feet dangling. She reached over and pulled him close for a moment, then released him. "Go play. Recess is almost over."

"You're sad again."

"Not for long." She smiled. "See? Go on. Watching you have fun makes me happy."

After he left, Adrienne punched in the land line number for her old house - just Drew and Danny's now. As always, she felt a sense of irony as the machine picked up and she heard her own cheery voice: "Hello, you've reached Danny and Adrienne. Please leave your name and number-" She wondered how long it would be before Dan thought to play the recorded greeting while he was listening to his messages. Then she wondered if perhaps he already had.

She thought carefully about what she would leave on the recorder: she'd have to be a lot more convincing than she'd been with Kat. Dan knew her better, and might replay the message, looking for signs of insincerity or other mistakes. Keep it simple, she thought. If you're having trouble keeping your emotions out of your voice, damn it, use them. When the 'recording' beep sounded, she said, "I don't know if I should be doing this. I don't even know what I called to say, really. Old habits are just hard to break, I guess. Specially if they're bad ones. I just … Kat's a wonderful kid, and she could really love you someday, I know. I won't … I mean, I… Oh, hell." She hung up, and considered. Call again tomorrow, to reinforce the message? No, she decided: he played all his messages at once, when he arrived home from Boulder, and hearing a string of ones like that would ring false. Better to let him hear that single plaint and nothing after, to help him believe she was avoiding any temptation to steer his decision.

The daycare attendant clapped her hands, signaling the end of the outdoor play period. Children began to line up at the door, but Drew came to his mother first, arms outstretched for a goodbye hug, and she slid off the bench and knelt in the wood chips to hold him.

Wednesday Oct 11

As was her custom since they'd been roommates at the beach house, Roxanne opened the door to Caitlin's room without knocking. She got a single step inside and paused at the sight of her 'sister' sitting on the edge of the high wood-framed bed, a closed shoebox in her lap. Roxy recognized it instantly, though she'd never seen it anywhere but under the bed.

Kat didn't act caught or guilty; she simply raised her chin to regard Roxy with misty eyes. "Close the door."

Roxy complied, bumping a hip behind it to make sure it was firmly seated in the jamb. Then, with the help of her Gen, she dragged Kat'sheavy reading chair to the door and wedged its back under the doorknob.

Roxy stood in front of the seated girl. "Why don't you?" She asked quietly. "Just one."

"Because it would only make it harder."

"What did he do to you?"

"Nothing."

"C'mon, Kat. Fess up. Good for the soul."

"Good for the soul, right." Kat rested a hand on the box's lid. "He didn't do anything to hurt me, Roxy. I'm sure he never would." She took the box in her hands, bent, and slid it under the bed. "I'm not changing my mind. I just had a weak moment, is all. I wish Daniel would call."

And I wish he'd never call again, Roxy thought. Dan Grissom was all wrong for Kat. She'd never met the guy, had nothing to go on but Kat and Anna and Sarah's descriptions, but that was enough to build a picture, a picture very much like the one of Kat's dad in Mr. Lynch's study. Under Ranger Dan's charm and rough good looks there were a lot of hard sharp edges a girl like Kat could hurt herself on.

Gentle, ascetic Luis seemed perfect for her – more now, even, than when they'd met. Why wouldn't she answer his letters, or even read them? Why did she refuse to even let the other girls talk about him or read their letters from him aloud in her presence? Anybody could see how hard she'd fallen for the mysterious dark-haired young hunk that Mr. Lynch and Anna had brought home for a week's stay. But Caitlin had been iron on the subject.

Kat was treating Luis like an addiction she was working hard to beat. But Roxy knew girls who had done tragically stupid things with rebound boyfriends, and Kat, who'd never had a serious relationship with a guy before, worried her greatly. If she had her way, Caitlin and Dan would never be alone together for five minutes. Roxy sat beside the big redhead and put a hand on her knee. "Well, you'll see him Friday, right?"

"Or Saturday." Kat looked at the chair under the doorknob and scoffed. "Who was that for?"

Roxy shrugged. "Bobby, mostly. Not that he'd just walk into your room without knocking,but if he thought you needed help…"

"Or heard me bawling, I suppose?" Kat brushed at her eyes with a fingertip, careful not to smear her scant makeup. "Notlikely, Sis. Like I said, a weak moment, that's all."

Boulder

Dan braced his legs, tucked his elbows tight against his sides, shifted his grip on the bar pressing against his thighs, and brought the barbell up smoothly to his chin, grunting at the end of his effort. He lowered it smoothly, almost to its original position, and repeated the exercise. Ten reps later, he lowered it halfway and dropped it into its rest, completing his third set of curls.

He lifted the hem of his sodden cutoff sweatshirt and wiped the sweat from his eyes. After working out nonstop for two hours and pressing himself hard, his heart was pounding, and he felt rubbery all over. He also felt curiously loose and light-limbed, which was a pleasant change. It seemed leaving his room in the middle of the night to hit IO Central's gym for some endorphin therapy was just what he'd needed for the heaviness of spirit that had been weighing him down all week.

He reached for the towel lying across the rest and mopped his dripping face. His mood was lifted somewhat for now, but he knew it wouldn't last; his problems with Kat and Adrienne were unchanged, and a decision as far away as ever. He was still spending his evenings at Boulder with Colby's men, but hadn't called Kat from the bar, and he'd resolved not to call Adrienne for casual reasons ever again. This problem was nothing to handle over the phone, he thought, and he was sure he couldn't speak to his girlfriend about mundane matters while it was hanging over his head. He'd have to talk to her this weekend, face-to-face, and settle things.

He suddenly felt an unexplained wave of expectancy and pleasure wash over him. He just had time to recognize the sensation before one of the big room's double doors opened and Nicole Callahan stepped through. His hands squeezed the towel as his eyes took her in. The girl seemed dressed more for sunbathing than exercise, in a pair of black tap shorts that barely covered her ass and were slit to the hip besides, and an elastic top that provided hardly more coverage than a brassiere. Her look of surprise toned down his internal alarms - until she smiled."Well. Dan."

He held the towel bunched in front of him. "Uh, hi." She was gorgeous and incredibly sexy in her little outfit, and he couldn't take his eyes off her."You here to work out?"

"Yep." She moved off toward the exercise machines at the other end of the room. "I've usually got the place to myself this time of night. Which is why I come."

"Sorry. I can leave." I hope.

"I'd rather you didn't, really. Sharing the gym with one guy in the weight room isn't a problem. It just isn't safe when the place gets crowded." She mounted a stairstep machine and began to dial it in.

"Safe?"

"Uh huh. You're far enough away, don't worry." She smiled at the machine's display. "I mean, I'm sure you're thinking of jumping my bones right now, but wouldn't you anyway? If I was just some hottie walking in to use the Stairmaster?"

He scoffed, and suddenly felt some slack in the invisible line pulling him towards her; he saw her as she'd described herself: an exotic and sexy young woman wearing too little clothing, very tempting but not irresistible. Was she throttling down her power, or using it somehow to put him at ease, or was she simply far enough away? "Well, for a second or two, anyway." He started to add weight to the bar. "Maybe ten. Followed by ten seconds of guilt and remorse."

The stair machine started up with a soft whine, and the girl's bare white thighs rose and fell in an alternating rhythm that drew his eyes. "Guilt and remorse? Oh, the girlfriend, right. Well, like they say, looking's not cheating."

The last of his previous good mood evaporated. "So they say. Not that I ever believed it." He carefully picked up the heavy bar, turned away from her, and lowered it to the floor, crouching over it in preparation for a dead lift set."Although, in this case, I think she'd understand." When he raised his head to begin, he saw her reflection smiling at him from one of the room's ubiquitous mirrors.

"That's right, I think you said she works at the Shop. But not in Research. That's convenient. I bet she's pretty, too. Blonde or redhead? I'm guessing she's not dark-haired."

Wary again, he said, "Blonde." He straightened his back and legs carefully, and stood with the bar against his thighs. Change the subject, right now. "You come here every night?" Do you come here often? God. Please don't let her think that's a pickup line.

"Only nights I'm alone."

"That can't happen often." His ears warmed. "I mean…"

"You meant what you said. Don't worry about it. You're never going to insult me by saying you know I sleep around."

They exercised in companionable silence for some time. She moved from the stair machine to a mat and started doing floor exercises. Sneaking glances her way, Dan made several observations that he would have been too lust-blinded to note the first time they'd met. Nicole Callahan's skin was so fair it could be compared to milk, but so flawless he couldn't imagine it being improved by a tan. She hadn't put her hair up to work out, and perspiration had caused it to curl a little and darken still further, the strange purple highlights disappearing. As she bent and flexed and stretched, he saw that she was as limber as a yoga instructor, or possibly a ballerina; he wondered if she danced.

He also noted, with a little embarrassment, that her shorts were too brief to conceal her panties: plain white cotton, Bikini cut. A conservative, almost virginal selection, he thought, more suitable to Caitlin than a girl with Nicole Callahan's rep.

"I'd have covered up a little more, if I hadn't been so sure I'd be alone." Sitting spraddle-legged on the mat, Nicole grasped the ankle of her outstretched leg and bent forward until her chin touched her knee. "But I'm kind of a narcissist. I like the way I look naked. Put me in a room full of mirrors, and I just feel strange in clothes." The violet eyes stared blankly at the toe of her crosstrainer. "Sometimes when I'm alone in here, I think about just peeling down to my skin and turning all around, taking in all those reflections." She suddenly smiled and looked up at him. "I'm shocking you."

"No."Are you a graduate of one of those rooms in Darwin's basement, Nicole? If so, how much of it do you remember, and how deeply did it mark you? He bent to put the bar on the floor, and to hide his face. "I'm just getting the visual."

She actually giggled. Her voice nearly broke his heart, she sounded so young. She switched to the other ankle. "If you're feeling guilty about getting a free show, you could quid pro quo. Maybe take your shirt off?"

"I… think I'll live with the guilt, thanks."Did you scream and pound on the wall? Talk to your reflections? Are you what Kat would have been if she hadn't escaped before they broke her?

She rose and headed for the workout machines. "I usually start with the thigh adducer, but if I do, I don't think you'll finish that set before you cool off." She started adjusting the weight stack at the pulldown station, her back to him.

They shared a bit more solitary exercise, him in the free weight area, her on the circuit training machines at the other end of the room. Nicole's workout, while not light, seemed geared toward maintenance rather than development – which was as it should be, he thought; the dark-haired beauty was perfectly proportioned already. Perfectly toned, too, though muscle definition wasn't easy to discern against that creamy skin, except where perspiration highlighted it.

After she finished up a set of presses, Nicole sat up and straddled the press bench and rested her elbows on the station's handles behind her. "You want to talk about it?"

Dan, lying head-down on an incline bench with a five-kilo weight held to his chest, was about to begin a sit-up set; instead, he said, "Talk about what?"

"You're not pumping iron at one in the morning for the peace and quiet. Something's keeping you awake, and you came down here to push it out of your mind." A moment later, she said, "And, judging by our conversation a little earlier, I'd guess it has something to do with your girlfriend. And cheating."

He froze.

"Talking with people is what I do, Dan. And you gave me plenty of clues. Like the way you kept mentioning guilt. It was you, not her, right?" After a moment of heavy silence, she said, "I'm not judging here. And I probably don't have any worthwhile advice to give you. Sometimes you just need to share your problems with somebody."

…who reports directly to IvanaBaiul? He sat up and dropped the weight to the floor, then cleared his throat. "Why do you think your advice wouldn't be worth anything? You must know guys inside and out."

"Not like that. I've never even had a boyfriend."

Daniel stared at the beautiful half-naked girl sitting fifteen yards away. "Say what?"

She gave him a humorless little smile. "All my relationships are one-night-stands, Dan. That's the way it's got to be."

"Oh." He assayed, "Your talent."

She nodded. "I'm sure you've heard all the stories."

"Don't think so."

"Oh?" Her eyebrows lifted. Nicole had the most arresting eyes, he realized, and seemed to get deeper the longer you looked into them…

He slipped off the incline bench and took a better seat on the press bench, a little farther away. "I don't think I've been here long enough to hear them all."

She scoffed. "After awhile, they all sound the same. I don't do second dates, Dan. It would be more dangerous for him than the first. So…"

"You sleep around."

"I hope you're not feeling sorry for me or anything. Most guys would pay real money to be in my situation."

"Or think they would." He hesitated. "Ever been with a married man?"

She head-shrugged. "Once, for sure. I took an instant dislike to the wife. I thought he deserved better."

"No regrets, then."

"Oh, I didn't say that." She shrugged again. "It was impulsive. Looking back, I should have passed him up. So. What are you feeling all regretful about?"

It occurred to him that Nicole, a Genactive who'd been at Darwin and shared many of Kat's most significant experiences, might make a very good audience for a rehearsal of his intended confession.You feel completely in the dark about how a girl like Caitlin might react to what you need to say? Maybe this is a way to find out. But you'd have to be very, very careful. He swallowed. "You're right. I was with another woman."

"Oh." Her eyelids lowered, and she looked at him coyly through her lashes. "And you're afraid your girl will find out."

"Afraid of what will happen when I tell her."

"Tell her?" Her mouth turned up at the corners. "Why do you want to do that?"

"Well, because it's the right thing to do."

"Oh, I see," she said in a mocking tone. "You want to break up with her."

"No," he said, then his mind sort of froze. Don't I?

Nicole was studying him carefully. "You don't think she'll dump you?"

He stared at the bench between his thighs. "I hope that's all she does. She's sweet and kind of innocent, and I'm afraid she might…"

"Oh, brother." Nicole shook her head. "Got to tell you, Dan, innocent just doesn't suit your style. Maybe there's a reason you strayed."

He felt a twinge of anger. "You're awfully opinionated, for somebody who claims she doesn't know anything about men and relationships."

"I never had one of my own, but I've got plenty of girlfriends, Dan, and they talk. Do they ever. I've heard a thousand breakup stories." She leaned back between the handlebars to rest her shoulders on the bench. "And they usually happen for good reasons."

He shook his head. "I just don't want to hurt her." Any more than necessary.

"Oh, that old excuse. You hurt her plenty already, she just doesn't feel it yet. Best thing you could do for both of you is leave her. Go ahead and confess, it'll make you both feel better afterward. But don't let her forgive you and take you back. The two of you are done. End it clean." She gripped the handles, adjusted her shoulders, and began another set. "Believe me… unnh." She locked her arms and held the bar above her. "No good will come of trying to keep her and start fresh. Don't kid yourself this is going to be the last time. This is just the last time you'll confess." She lowered it and paused again."Cheating on her will trouble your conscience less and less, and hiding it from her will seem more and more effort, because deep down you're hoping she'll catch you. And sooner or later, she will." She rested another moment, still gripping the bars. "Is that how you want it to end?" When she saw that he wasn't going to answer, she shoved the bar toward the ceiling again. "Unnh. Don't pull at the wound any more, Dan. Cauterize it."

You wanted her advice, the little voice said. Can you trust it? "I'll have to think on that one."

"Don't wait too long, if there's any chance of her finding out some other way." She finished her set and sat up again. "Who else knows?"

"Just the woman I was with." Adrienne wouldn't tell – I think – but she might let something slip.

"Was she just a one-nighter, a stranger in a bar, something like that?"

"No. We all… we know one another."

"Not good. Does she maybe have designs on you?"

"She thinks it was a big mistake."

The girl eyed him keenly; even from this distance, Nicole's eyes were mesmerizing. "That doesn't tell you a damned thing about her intentions now, Dan." She stood. "Should have brought a towel. Borrow yours?"

He said uncomfortably, "It's a little damp."

The Mona Lisa smile was back. "I don't mind sharing a little sweat if you don't. Toss it?"

He could have thrown a ball the distance easily, but the rectangle of cloth would be another story. Trying to place it in her hand seemed riskier than skydiving without a chute. He tied a quick knot in one end to weight it, then whirled it by the untied end and released it to sail over to her.

She caught it neatly, smiling. But instead of wiping herself with it, she brought it close to her face and inhaled. "Mmm. Call me weird, but I think fresh sweat smells better than cologne. Depending on where it comes from, of course." She blotted her face and limbs and breasts, smiling faintly at him the whole time while his breathing roughened. She approached him with the towel pressed against her bare belly between navel and waistband.

He stood, thinking he'd back up so she could lay it on the bench, but his legs seemed to have forgotten that particular motion. Her eyes caught his and held them, and his inner alarms faded away as she halved the distance between them. When he felt himself begin to lean toward her as if about to take a step, she stopped. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, can you toss it from there?"

She held the towel in her hand a moment more, almost as if weighing it - or weighing a decision. "Sure." She flipped it at him, a sure throw that she could have made almost from where she'd been sitting. "I'm headed for the shower and bed. You should too, big guy."

The cloth in his hands smelled of her – perfume or soap, he didn't know what, but damned good. He nodded. "I will." Whether I'll sleep is another thing. And I think my shower's going to be a cold one.

They stood regarding each other for a few moments more, then she said quietly, "Could you move away from the door a little? I don't think I can get past you."

He was already six feet from the door, but he understood. He took two steps back. "Okay?"

"Plenty." She moved toward the door, no longer looking at him.

It suddenly occurred to him that Nicole was lonely.

And then she was surrounded by soft light, and he saw her once again as she truly was, a creature of unearthly beauty, too lovely and tragic for this world. He ached to hold her, to cure her of loneliness forever. Her eyes were gems, their color and luster infinite; they widened and he started to fall into them….

She took two quick steps back and held a hand up. He realized he'd been reaching for her. "Jeez, Dan. Take a couple more."

He did as she bid, blushing. "Sorry."

"You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about." But she frowned at him. "You're really sensitized."

She was a normal girl again, or as normal as she was ever likely to be. He felt dull, slow: the way he did sometimes after an action, when the adrenaline was washing out of his system and his brain caught up with whatever he'd just done automatically through training and reflex. "Sensitized."

"Yeah. On some guys – most guys, really – exposure to I-S has a cumulative effect. That's why it's more dangerous a second time." The frown deepened. "I know I was 'casting pretty hard the first time we met, but you never got within ten feet of me. You're acting almost like I touched you for a second."

His breath caught. Kat. I've been within arm's length of her for hours. I've held her hand. But we've never even kissed…she almost seems afraid to…

"I saw the video. Fairchild backed him up to the pump and snogged him. When she let go, he was her slave."

She shrugged. "We don't know as much about it as we'd like. Some people are more resistant than others. You must just be super susceptible." She moved toward the door. "How about you take one more? Just to be safe."

He took two.

She nodded and approached the door. As she did, Dan said, "Nicole. It was good talking to you. Thanks."

She paused with one hand on the door handle. "It was nice talking with you too, Dan. Too nice." She pulled the door open slowly. "I won't be back here tomorrow."

"Neither will I."

"Good."