Chapter Eleven

Myka felt May leave and was relieved to be alone, save for her statue-like friend. If it took her forever, she would stay by Helena's side and keep trying to reach her. Either she would succeed in getting the woman back or they would both eventually perish.

Her mind ran briefly to Christina at the apartments. The suddenly nervous girl had not wanted Myka to leave without her and the agent had promised to return before too long. She felt conflicted.

Perhaps she would be able to leave Helena briefly and still have a chance of reaching her when she returned. Perhaps May or one of the others would return shortly and she could ask them to fetch the child.

'I've got to stay,' she thought desperately. 'This could be her only chance to wake up.' Feeling tears begin to prick at the back of her eyes, Myka grabbed HG's upper arms again and shook her gently.

'You know that this is impossible,' Helena began to reprimanded herself. 'It is an illusion. You are being distracted from your true purpose.' The logic of her words took a long painful moment to sink in but when they eventually did, her gaze fell back on her fellow agent and she finally began to hear the mysterious voice clearly.

Gazing longingly at her daughter, Helena made a conscious effort to let go and forced her mind to focus away from the beautiful fantasy.

"Come on Helena," Myka urged. "You are one of the strongest people I've ever met. You can fight this!" She stared intently at dark blank eyes and for a moment thought that she saw a flicker of life. "I know that what you must be seeing is tempting to give into, but trust me... There is still reason for you to hope." Myka's voice faltered with the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. "Come back to me Helena. We will save her... together," she promised heartily before the tears flowed and her throat tightened so much that no more sound would pass.

For an agonising moment, nothing happened, and then, very slowly, HG's expression began to tighten as she struggled to regain control of her body.

Myka continued to hold Helena steady as the shorter woman's body seemed to lose all strength. She knew the exact moment that her friend returned when dark eyes filled with tears and a choked 'Myka' forced its way out from HG's throat.

Together they sank slowly to the ground until Agent Bering had the inventor's head cradled in her lap and tried to offer some comfort by gently stroking through ebony locks.

It took some time before the distraught sobs faded into small occasional hiccoughs, and only then did Myka attempt to speak, "Helena?" she tried softly, pulling raven hair behind a shapely ear to peek at the side of the woman's face.

HG sniffed uncharacteristically loud and began to sit up. She seemed to falter for a minute before resigning to her fate and wiping her eyes and nose distastefully on her sleeve. "I cannot keep doing this," she croaked, hands shaking as she covered her eyes briefly and then pushed back her hair.

Myka placed a steady hand on the inventor's back and was relieved when it wasn't shrugged off. Then those windows to a tortured soul honed in on her and the brunette couldn't stop herself pulling Helena into a firm hug. "You are so amazing," Myka assured the Victorian. "You're always fighting to be in control, but Helena," she pulled back to look into glassy eyes. "You can lean on others sometimes. I'm here for you when you need me, no questions asked."

Helena finally smiled through her tears. "Thank you Myka. I came here thinking to rescue you, but I appear to be the one in need of a knight in shining armour."

Myka blushed, her mind suddenly filled with the image of them on horseback; Helena's arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She aimed her gaze at the ground, afraid of what she would see in the other woman's eyes.

HG placed two fingers under Agent Bering's chin and angled her head up once more. Feeling words that she'd suppressed bubble up on her tongue, she took a long breath and forced them back again, knowing that now was not the right time. "Thank you darling," she repeated with all the sincerity she could muster. The last of her tears had been wiped away and she'd quickly come to realise that at least one of the two people she loved was alive and well.

"You don't need to thank me Helena; you're my friend, it's my honour." Myka took a step back, breaking the spell. "It's good to see you," she added with a shy smile.

HG grinned. "Myka Bering, you are a sight for sore eyes. You've had us all quite worried you know?" For the first time, the temporary agent began to take in her surroundings. She gave her fellow agent a cocky smile, feeling slightly relieved after her outburst but still needing to cover the residual pain that lay within. She linked a hand through Myka's arm and led the stunned young woman towards the light of what appeared to be a main road. "So tell me darling, what has your wonderfully analytical mind discovered thus far?"

"Do you think Artie set her up to get rid of her?" Agent Jinks asked as his temporary partner paced passed the spot where HG Wells had disappeared a few minutes ago. "He didn't seem overly concerned for what might happen to her."

They had taken alternate hourly watches over the Victorian. Pete had sat outside his room, watching the inventor's door, contemplating the director's intentions. Artie's intense dislike of HG Wells was no secret amongst the Warehouse operatives, but Pete was fairly certain that he wouldn't deliberately try to kill her.

"Artie's not like that. He'd put her back in the bronze section I think, but not kill her." Lattimer was struggling with the sporadic vibes he was getting. There was a constant feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach but he couldn't narrow it down any further. He last clear vibe he'd had was about HG and he was beginning to wonder if all he had achieved by bringing her in was to lose her to this artefact too. He wondered whether she and Myka were even able to communicate where they were. "He saved her life once," he finished, trying to find a reason to feel confident.

Steve nodded but knew that Pete was experiencing some small waves of doubt. "But you don't think he'd be overly concerned if she just happened to disappear forever? Particularly if it helps find Myka?"

Pete clearly heard the accusation in Steve's tone and immediately tried to defend his boss. "No, he wouldn't... Well he's..." Lattimer stopped and looked at the sceptical expression on Steve's face. "Ok, so Artie wouldn't miss HG if she never came back, but he still wouldn't just send her to her death. He knows something."

"Like what? No one seems to know what's inside that thing," he pointed to the brick where they'd seen a curling cloud of sand appear just long enough to engulf HG Wells and whisk her away to some unknown plane. "Even the information he gave us from the regents is full of holes. No one has managed to find a way back. How does he know that HG can help?"

Pete shrugged. "I guess the same way we all sense these things... Instinct."

Myka filled Helena in on everything bar one vital detail. She hadn't yet figured out what the significance of Christina's presence was and wanted to get everything else out of the way before dropping that bomb on the Victorian.

"So you think the visions and memories are centred around individual desires? That the entity has created a utopia to draw victims in and persuade them to stay?" Helena was sprawled out on the grass next to the curly-haired agent, in a very unladylike fashion and yet she still managed to look regal in Myka's eyes.

"I think we're being used as an energy source. From what we know of artefacts, there's usually a sacrifice that comes with whatever perceived benefit that the user receives. It could be physical, emotional, psychological, intelligence, a life... Some form of energy that the artefact draws upon." Myka stared across the lake to where she remembered seeing Christina the first time. What did the artefact need the young girl for? "The sacrifice for us appears to be our freedom, but I'm still not sure why that's significant here. Particularly since so many have fought off the pull of their innermost desires."

Helena frowned over the memory of the glowing brick and the shape of something trapped inside that had seemed familiar. "It's worship," she whispered at last.

Myka hugged her knees and frowned, her thoughts having drifted as she figured out how to approach the subject of Helena's daughter. "Huh, worship?"

HG recited for Myka the update she, Steve and Pete were given the night before by Artie and Claudia. "The energy!" She jumped up and began pacing in excitement. "Agent Thomas mentioned seeing a scarab beetle."

Myka was soon on her feet too and filling in the blanks with Helena. "Which were revered by the Egyptians."

"Right. Though I do not believe that we are dealing with Khepri. I would be willing to wager that the artefact is an amulet designed to represent one of the great pharaohs."

Myka averted her eyes from where HG's index finger stroked her bottom lip. "You think there's a cartouche underneath?" She took a deep breath, thinking. "There are so many. What else do we know?" She began to pace too, now focussed enough that she didn't feel admiring eyes following her. "Dreams and visions of our deepest desires. No control over our actions when we were 'called' here... Hidden from the world," she muttered, beginning to see a connection.

"Hidden?" HG questioned as her brain began to come to the same daunting conclusion. "You don't think...?"

"Amun, meaning hidden. Amun-Re was said to be the protector of the poor and distressed. He aided those who travelled in his name and became known as the 'Protector of the Road'." Myka was on a roll, feeling the pieces fitting together neatly. "Creating a utopia in our minds in exchange for our devotion."

The inventor found herself mesmerised by the shifting expressions on her fellow agent's face and was content to enjoy watching Myka's mind whirr and dance.

"Towards the end of the eighteenth dynasty, Akenaten forced in worship of the god Aten and it wasn't until his death, when Tutankhaten, later Tutankhamun, revised worship of Amun-Re." Myka chewed on her bottom lip and twirled a lock of hair between her fingers. "Tutankhamun's tomb was not discovered until 1922 but that doesn't preclude the discovery of treasures in his name being found elsewhere. In fact..." Her eyes lit up and she turned to HG with a knowing smile. "The first disappearances; did they begin earlier in the nineteenth century?"

"Yes." Helena grinned, following Myka's train of thought. "Right about the time those young French soldiers were returning with the Rosetta Stone."

"And likely a lot more than that." Myka grinned triumphantly.

Helena restrained herself for all of a second before launching herself at Myka. She had initially only intended to hug her fellow agent but somehow ended up with a hand either side of her face and suddenly they were kissing. Myka opened her mouth to protest and immediately felt a tongue slipping inside and entwining with her own. The whimper that escaped her throat was testament to how much she wasn't bothered by the interruption.

HG didn't worry about wrestling with her conscience this time. Kissing Myka felt so right. Why had she chosen to give this up? What good had it done? As she felt soft curls running through her fingers and heard a contented hum rise and fall from the brunette, she promised herself that she wouldn't return home until she'd sat down with the agent and really talked things through. She figured she could tolerate being closer to the Warehouse for more of these kisses.

When Myka finally began to process what was happening, she panicked. She envisioned those lonely nights crying over the inventor's absence and the long days filled with numerous tasks, just to keep her mind busy. The touch of Helena's lips and hands made her head spin and her knees weak, but if she had any ounce of control left it was the staunch professional deep inside who refused to be reduced to a hormonal puddle in the middle of an investigation. With determination, Myka took hold of the Brit's hands and removed them from her hair while taking a step back to put some much-needed space between them.

"Helena..." she caught a flicker of concern and confusion in the other woman's eyes before it was quickly smothered. She knew better than to touch the Victorian again; her professional persona wasn't up to a repeat performance so soon, but she made an effort to soften her tone. "Helena, as much as I love when you kiss me," she confessed boldly. "We can't... I shouldn't..." she struggled to find the right words and held her tongue when the other woman raised a hand to stop her.

"Say no more darling," HG took another deliberate step back, showing the brunette that she wasn't going to cross the line again. "I am aware that I have a lot of explaining to do, but for the record..." her expression morphed neatly from sheepish to smouldering. "In my right mind my dear, I would never stop kissing you."

"Which begs the question, have you or will you ever be in your right mind?" Myka teased.

Helena mock glared and placed both hands on her hips. "Be very careful agent Bering, I may mistake your insults for passive-aggressive interest."

Myka blushed again but kept eye contact this time. She believed that the inventor meant what she was saying but couldn't be sure that HG's intentions wouldn't change once she was better informed. The time to find out had arrived. "Walk with me?"

HG fell into step beside the brunette even as she puzzled over the sudden seriousness in her expression. They walked for a while in companionable silence until the inventor realised that they had come full circle. "Myka darling, do you have a destination in mind, because I think we may have already passed this location?"

Myka looked around without actually taking in any of the scenery. She couldn't find any sort of clue to indicate why Christina was there and had to admit that she was afraid of how HG was going to react. She sighed her defeat as she turned to the other woman. "HG, there's really no easy way to explain this..."

"Myka, please, call me Helena," the inventor insisted gently and then smiled mischievously. "I do so love the sound of my name on your lips."

"You love the sound of your name, period," the curly-haired agent shot back before she remembered that she was supposed to be sharing a rather large piece of information. "Anyway, behave! I'm not sure how to say what I have to say or how you're going to react..."

Helena took pity on her companion and smiled gently. "Whatever it is, you will only be able to guess at my reaction unless you tell me. Do you want to forever be in Limbo?"

Myka cracked a nervous smile but was far too anxious now to really be comforted by the joke. "Helena, while investigating this place, I found an anomaly."

HG's interest piqued. "Anomalies usually indicate a weakness. You may have uncovered a possible escape."

Myka nodded her agreement. "You mentioned believing that your time machine is involved. What if when you were in Sophie's body, the artefact sensed your undoubtedly powerful desire to save Christina and tried to pull you in?" She watched a frown begin to appear on HG's features and pushed on before she could begin to lose her nerve. "But because you weren't actually there it experienced some sort of malfunction? From what I can discover, the scarab has been stuck for around about a century."

The inventor heard the conviction in Myka's tone and began to wonder what other evidence the young woman had besides the timing. "Your theory certainly sounds plausible darling, but it could also be entirely circumstantial," her tone was kind as she didn't want to belittle the agent's analysis, but she was concerned that Myka was focussing too much on this single idea.

"Helena, the anomaly is a young girl," Myka added, finally biting the bullet. "She doesn't age and I have no idea whether she would have a physical presence in reality or not. It's possible that she's simply a clever construct of this place."

The look in Myka's eyes and the unusual nervousness in her manner suddenly began to click into place. "Who is she?" HG asked with a strained tone.