“That’s it?” Surprise mingled with disbelief. “I feel like an elephant had walked all over me. Usually that means I’ve been out for at least six hours.”
Dr. Kirkland smiled at her attempt at humor. “I’m not surprised. Projected studies point to the fact that Total Immersion Virtual Reality Remote Viewing will put a lot of stress on the mind and body.”
TIVRRV had just been a term in Helen’s head as she had gone through the stages of training. But now that she’d undergone the first experience of combining all those stages, she was suddenly aware of the significance of what she’d achieved.
Stress indeed. Not to mention having someone else talking in her head and other things she would rather not tell these scientists. She couldn’t focus properly as she tried to recall every detail. “This is good, right?” she asked, rubbing her neck absentmindedly, remembering a warm, sure hand. “Then we’ll know for sure whether the next phase actually works.”
The next phase was SYMBIOS 2, the drug that would cure all fatigue generated by remote viewing, thus enabling her to complete the mission. This was the tricky part. She was in charge because only she knew what she had seen. A whole group of operatives now depended on her version of what truth was, and if the operation failed, it meant she’d failed.
The world of remote viewing was a strange one. Helen knew that many incidents had been summarized and filed away—world events and secrets—that the government hadn’t taken on because no one department was willing to send out a team on the word of a viewer. Millions of dollars could go down the tube. Lives could be lost. No one was willing to jeopardize their teams just to prove one person’s vision.
But a remote viewer, trained to spy and trained to go where no one had dared—that was the grand experiment. And Helen was it.
“We don’t have much time,” the assistant said to Dr. Kirkland.
“We’ll give her a few minutes.”
Helen shook off the fatigue, sitting straighter. “Get De Clerq.”
She stood up slowly and felt as if she was carrying fifty more pounds on her. Whoa. This was totally different from all the other sessions. She scowled at Derek when he proffered a hand. No. She would walk out of here without any help.
Gingerly, she took a few steps, willing her leaden feet to move normally. She found it easier to walk if she stared at each foot, moving one in front of the other as if she were robot-controlled.
“Sweetheart, at this rate we’ll never get started.” It was Flyboy at the doorway. “You’re going to need my help.”
Helen scowled. “No, thanks.”
He came forward just as she stumbled and scooped her into his arms with one easy swing. “Pride goes before a fall, haven’t you heard?”
“And what will it look like if you carry me into that meeting with all the brass looking on? Sure, that’d have their confidence in the mission soaring, wouldn’t it?”
Flyboy continued walking. “You’re right. But you can’t walk in like you’re Tim Conway impersonating an eighty-year-old either.”
Helen frowned. “Tim who?”
“You know, Carol Burnett’s sidekick from her show. The one that shuffles his feet when he impersonated…” Flyboy shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not funny when I have to explain his act.”
“You watchedThe Carol Burnett Show?” Helen asked incredulously.
“With my mom,” he told her, smiling down at her. “Here we are.”
Helen turned her head, startled that she’d forgotten that she’d been arguing about walking on her volition. Flyboy had taken her to the restroom.
“This will give you a few minutes while I go get a wheelchair,” he said, setting her back on her feet.
“A wheelchair isn’t going to give a good impression either,” she pointed out. She fought for balance. Dammit, she was having a lot of difficulty trying to coordinate her movements.
“Not if we have all the medical stuff attached to it as if we’re readying you for the drug. We’ll make it look okay.” Flyboy tilted her chin. His blue eyes were serious, searching hers. “Hey, the most important thing’s you being okay. Can you do this?”
Helen nodded. “You don’t think I’m going to back out at this stage, do you?”
“No, you don’t seem the type, although I question your sanity.”
“Didn’t I hear you say you put that stuff in you, too?” she asked, arching a brow. “Oh wait, you’re playing protective male about it being okay for you to do it but not me?”
His thumb teased the bottom of her lip. “You’ll know when I play protective male,” he told her.
She smiled at him. He really was so cute for being so concerned about her. “Does Tim Conway do his act in a wheelchair?”
