BDP 26
The next two weeks passed in a whirl of happiness for Nottingham. He didn't even mind the injections or the cortex stimulations. Even the frequent trips into the imaging machine to photograph brain activity could not dampen his spirits. Mobius, just call me Moby, had become more than a bunkmate, and more than his unit leader. He had become a friend. The first one Ian had ever been allowed to have.
For that reason alone Nottingham would have endured much worse than their poking and prodding. Not that what they were doing to them was painless, oh no. It just seemed worth it for him. He was actually faring better than some of the other members of the unit, who complained of headaches and nightmares.
He had dreams about Moira, and the things they had done together. It was far from the materials that nightmares were made of.. Which had led to some startling and embarrassing moments, however. He had awakened burning with desire, or worse, the sheets sticky with the results of his dreaming. Moby had told him such things were common, and were a healthy sign. He had even admitted to having it happen to himself, which relieved Ian immensely.
If he knew whom Ian had been dreaming about, he never mentioned it.
Nottingham did his best to keep silent; although there were times he was bursting to share his feelings about Moira with Moby. He was beginning to think he was in love, but having never felt such a thing, he would have liked to discuss it with someone.
Ian and Moira had not found a way to be alone again, and the only physical closeness they managed was limited to casual-seeming touches. Some days it was so hard to not grab that blasted clipboard, toss it across the room, and pull Moira into his arms. He had whispered his urge to her once, and the look she had given him in return was filled with the desire for him to do just that. Caution had prevailed, but it remained one of Ian's favorite nocturnal fantasies.
They had a great deal of time together after the injections, as it was part of her job to monitor their reaction to the drugs. They had learned a lot about each other, and their newfound knowledge brought them closer together.
All subjects were proceeding better than anyone had projected, even with the setback that had occurred on the first day. The drug therapy was stepped up, and a new chemical series was added as well. Moira had warned them that the chimps had responded to the secondary phase with increased aggression and territoriality. Ian had not really thought about what that would mean until.
The red haze receded from his mind, and he was dimly aware of the fact that there were several sets of restraining hands keeping him from moving forward. Ian shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation he found himself in, but he couldn't remember anything. The burning in his knuckles told him he had struck something repeatedly, but he didn't know what or why. It was frightening, this hole in his mind.
A dark head came into view, the harsh overhead lights reflecting off the sheen of sweat on Moby's forehead. Calm brown eyes gazed into Ian's dilated amber ones, "It's all right Nottingham. Take a deep breath, and relax. We are your brothers, and we are with you."
Moby was an anchor in the storm Ian's mind had become. He stopped straining against the hands and arms holding him. "What happened Moby?"
"I was hoping you could tell me." Mobius raised a brow.
"Everything is still hazy. The last think I remember was getting the injections and watching the training tapes." Ian was still except for the small tremors chasing through his frame from adrenaline bleed-off.
The other members of his unit slowly eased away from Nottingham, ready to pounce again if need be. They all looked concerned, and a bit frightened. Ian was not happy to realize they were afraid of him and what he'd done.
"I'll tell you what happened, you fucking prick. You jumped me. I was just talking to the Doc when you came over the lab table like it wasn't even there and you hit me." Beck glared at Nottingham as best he could with one eye swollen shut. His lip was split, there was bruising along the left side of his face, and blood liberally decorated his torn shirt.
Ian stood in silent horror. He had done that? He glanced over at the table, trying to remember something, anything. The table was six feet by four feet, and covered with equipment. None of it was broken or disturbed, which meant he had to have leapt, clean over it from a nearly standing start. He was athletic, not Superman. The jump should not have been possible. Slowly he walked around it, wondering if Beck was exaggerating.
He finally ended up where he must have started and looked across the table at the group. They had not followed him around. There was a ripple as they were shoved aside, and Moira stood in their midst. She looked upset.
Suddenly the veil cleared. He remembered walking into the room for the check up that they always did after a session. Moira had been finishing up with Beck, who had made an insinuation and tried to kiss her.
Ian had been furious that Beck was trying to touch his woman. His reaction had been as instantaneous as a match to gasoline, and just as dangerous. He had wanted to kill, had intended to kill. Thinking about it brought the red back to the edges of his vision. He felt his hands clench and his upper lip curl as he fought back a snarl of rage.
"Never, ever, try to touch her again." Nottingham's voice was filled with barely contained fury, and the glare he leveled on Beck was merciless. He shifted it to include the rest of the men in the room.
Beck stiffened in surprise, "All this because I made a pass at the only woman in the compound?"
"You call grabbing her and trying to kiss her a pass?!" Ian roared in disbelief.
The rest of the unit was now looking at Beck as well, who replied self-consciously, "Well not exactly, it was like it was me, but it wasn't. I hit on Doc, she started to blow me off, and suddenly I got mad. She wasn't giving me a chance. I would like to chalk it up to proximity and frustration. I don't know if it's a side effect of the injections or not, but I've been horny as hell all week."
"It may well be the injections, coupled with the visual stimuli. Is everyone feeling this way?" Moira looked around the room. Most of the men wouldn't meet her eyes, which told her everything she needed to know.
"Well, considering the target area of this project, we should have anticipated this possibility. We may have to adjust the treatments. I will confer with my colleagues." Moira left to get Matheson and Weis. They, being guys, might stand a better chance of getting honest replies to the questions that were going to have to be asked.
The next two weeks passed in a whirl of happiness for Nottingham. He didn't even mind the injections or the cortex stimulations. Even the frequent trips into the imaging machine to photograph brain activity could not dampen his spirits. Mobius, just call me Moby, had become more than a bunkmate, and more than his unit leader. He had become a friend. The first one Ian had ever been allowed to have.
For that reason alone Nottingham would have endured much worse than their poking and prodding. Not that what they were doing to them was painless, oh no. It just seemed worth it for him. He was actually faring better than some of the other members of the unit, who complained of headaches and nightmares.
He had dreams about Moira, and the things they had done together. It was far from the materials that nightmares were made of.. Which had led to some startling and embarrassing moments, however. He had awakened burning with desire, or worse, the sheets sticky with the results of his dreaming. Moby had told him such things were common, and were a healthy sign. He had even admitted to having it happen to himself, which relieved Ian immensely.
If he knew whom Ian had been dreaming about, he never mentioned it.
Nottingham did his best to keep silent; although there were times he was bursting to share his feelings about Moira with Moby. He was beginning to think he was in love, but having never felt such a thing, he would have liked to discuss it with someone.
Ian and Moira had not found a way to be alone again, and the only physical closeness they managed was limited to casual-seeming touches. Some days it was so hard to not grab that blasted clipboard, toss it across the room, and pull Moira into his arms. He had whispered his urge to her once, and the look she had given him in return was filled with the desire for him to do just that. Caution had prevailed, but it remained one of Ian's favorite nocturnal fantasies.
They had a great deal of time together after the injections, as it was part of her job to monitor their reaction to the drugs. They had learned a lot about each other, and their newfound knowledge brought them closer together.
All subjects were proceeding better than anyone had projected, even with the setback that had occurred on the first day. The drug therapy was stepped up, and a new chemical series was added as well. Moira had warned them that the chimps had responded to the secondary phase with increased aggression and territoriality. Ian had not really thought about what that would mean until.
The red haze receded from his mind, and he was dimly aware of the fact that there were several sets of restraining hands keeping him from moving forward. Ian shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation he found himself in, but he couldn't remember anything. The burning in his knuckles told him he had struck something repeatedly, but he didn't know what or why. It was frightening, this hole in his mind.
A dark head came into view, the harsh overhead lights reflecting off the sheen of sweat on Moby's forehead. Calm brown eyes gazed into Ian's dilated amber ones, "It's all right Nottingham. Take a deep breath, and relax. We are your brothers, and we are with you."
Moby was an anchor in the storm Ian's mind had become. He stopped straining against the hands and arms holding him. "What happened Moby?"
"I was hoping you could tell me." Mobius raised a brow.
"Everything is still hazy. The last think I remember was getting the injections and watching the training tapes." Ian was still except for the small tremors chasing through his frame from adrenaline bleed-off.
The other members of his unit slowly eased away from Nottingham, ready to pounce again if need be. They all looked concerned, and a bit frightened. Ian was not happy to realize they were afraid of him and what he'd done.
"I'll tell you what happened, you fucking prick. You jumped me. I was just talking to the Doc when you came over the lab table like it wasn't even there and you hit me." Beck glared at Nottingham as best he could with one eye swollen shut. His lip was split, there was bruising along the left side of his face, and blood liberally decorated his torn shirt.
Ian stood in silent horror. He had done that? He glanced over at the table, trying to remember something, anything. The table was six feet by four feet, and covered with equipment. None of it was broken or disturbed, which meant he had to have leapt, clean over it from a nearly standing start. He was athletic, not Superman. The jump should not have been possible. Slowly he walked around it, wondering if Beck was exaggerating.
He finally ended up where he must have started and looked across the table at the group. They had not followed him around. There was a ripple as they were shoved aside, and Moira stood in their midst. She looked upset.
Suddenly the veil cleared. He remembered walking into the room for the check up that they always did after a session. Moira had been finishing up with Beck, who had made an insinuation and tried to kiss her.
Ian had been furious that Beck was trying to touch his woman. His reaction had been as instantaneous as a match to gasoline, and just as dangerous. He had wanted to kill, had intended to kill. Thinking about it brought the red back to the edges of his vision. He felt his hands clench and his upper lip curl as he fought back a snarl of rage.
"Never, ever, try to touch her again." Nottingham's voice was filled with barely contained fury, and the glare he leveled on Beck was merciless. He shifted it to include the rest of the men in the room.
Beck stiffened in surprise, "All this because I made a pass at the only woman in the compound?"
"You call grabbing her and trying to kiss her a pass?!" Ian roared in disbelief.
The rest of the unit was now looking at Beck as well, who replied self-consciously, "Well not exactly, it was like it was me, but it wasn't. I hit on Doc, she started to blow me off, and suddenly I got mad. She wasn't giving me a chance. I would like to chalk it up to proximity and frustration. I don't know if it's a side effect of the injections or not, but I've been horny as hell all week."
"It may well be the injections, coupled with the visual stimuli. Is everyone feeling this way?" Moira looked around the room. Most of the men wouldn't meet her eyes, which told her everything she needed to know.
"Well, considering the target area of this project, we should have anticipated this possibility. We may have to adjust the treatments. I will confer with my colleagues." Moira left to get Matheson and Weis. They, being guys, might stand a better chance of getting honest replies to the questions that were going to have to be asked.