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Authors: Sahara Kelly

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BOOK: The Facilitator
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“Thanks. I’ll manage somehow, but you’re right. It’s very hard.”

“With a handsome hunk like that? Yeah, no question.” The nurse licked her lips. “Sorry you bagged him first. I’d’ve liked a shot at that one. Bet he was hot enough to light fires in bed, huh?”

Not willing to share anything that personal or speak of Johann in the past tense, Martine simply shrugged and pulled an expression of grief over her features. “I have to do this. No point in putting it off.”

“Sure, honey. Here.” The nurse passed over the usual electronic paperwork and Martine filled it in as always, finishing it with her fingerprint. “I’ll be waiting when you’re done. Maybe we’ll go grab ourselves a drink or something.”

“That’s nice of you. Thanks.” Quietly Martine turned away. Until this moment, until Johann, she’d done her job efficiently and unemotionally. She had a skill that was rare and she used it in a way she hoped benefited others. But now? At this particular instant of time when she laid her hand on the door to the sterile room where Johann was waiting for her to facilitate him to his death, she began to grasp the full implications of what she and her fellow facilitators were doing.

And she wasn’t sure she liked what she felt. Her world shifted a few degrees and became a slightly darker place. For that alone, she could’ve strangled the director of Eternal Tranquility. For what they intended her to do to Johann? Yes, she would willingly have destroyed them all.

Walking inside with a sigh, Martine tried to leave all that behind and focus on the most important man in her life. He was lying beneath a light covering, the usual assortment of monitors connected and beeping their subtle messages. A brief glance told her he was sedated, but not to the levels she’d seen in Taber.

He was, to use the time-honored phrase, resting comfortably.

She moved to the bed and sat in her usual position, hips against his thigh, her hand reaching out to lie on top of his. At the moment of contact, there was a tiny spark between them, a static discharge of some sort she supposed.

The neural-interface cable emerged—but at the same time, Johann’s own neural interface began to swell and emerge from his scalp.

She’d never actually seen him interfaced like this—their one facilitation together had been distracting to the point of tunnel vision. She’d been so focused on her own experiences she hadn’t had the time to notice his.

The patch in his scalp protruded for a few inches, just enough for the neural interface cable to pick up the signal to connect. Hesitantly, like a snake caught between two mongooses, it wavered, then neatly divided and sent half its connections to Martine and the other half to Johann.

Blinking away her surprise, she sat and waited, wondering if a facilitation would work at all with only half the connections. Then she realized that all the connections were there, of course, just in two different places. Why should the equipment read anything different?

She closed her eyes…and waited.

Sure enough, the shimmer that preceded a facilitation began. She felt that slight moment of disorientation and then…she was standing beside Johann in a luxurious room.

“Thank God you’re all right.” He took her in his arms and squeezed her.

“You’re not sick, are you? I was right…they’re trying to get rid of you. And use me to do it, yes?”

He nodded. “Yes. Something somewhere made them uneasy. They don’t believe in giving anyone the benefit of the doubt. Any loose ends or possible problems are done away with.” He grinned ruefully. “Literally.”

“Not by me.” She hugged him. “Not anymore.”

“No. We’re done with that.” He kissed her then, a full-on, lots-of-tongue, hotly passionate kiss that blinded her with its heat for a minute or two.

“God, we’re going to fry our neural interfaces.” She eased back, licking her lips and wanting so much more than just one kiss.

“Hold that thought. We have things to do.” He noticed her pendant. “Great. You saw Jezzy.”

“I did. And I’m guessing this is what you wanted me to have?”

He nodded. “Yes. I’m Theta. Now you’re Theta too. Taber was Theta, and Jezzy’s sort of a Theta contact point inside Eternal Tranquility’s facility. It’s an organization that tries to monitor and prevent cyber crimes, like this facilitation-killer thing. Too much money, too much power and you’ve got maniac corporate dictators who want to rule the world. Our goal is to stop that from happening, but we’ve had to find new ways to patrol our existence. It’s not guns and handcuffs anymore, it’s technology.”

“Ultra top secret. Of
course.
That’s why I got kicked out of the data-storage server.”

“Beyond top secret. You’re lucky you got as far as you did. I reckon that was because of your neural-interface talents. All Theta members possess them. It’s how we operate.”

Martine glanced around. “Should we be talking about this?”

He grinned. “Yeah. It’s okay. A facilitation is the one place they really can’t monitor at all well. And honestly? It doesn’t matter now. With us interfaced like this, there’ll be too many wayward energy fluxes distorting the readings.”

“Thank God.” She leaned against him. “I love you, by the way. I’m certainly not going to kill you.” A quick glance showed heat in those blue eyes, and she looked away before she found herself forced to kiss him again. “So what are we going to do about this?”

“I, my darling, have a plan.” He smirked.

“Oh good. Because facilitating you, the first man I’ve actually found myself in love with, would have absolutely ruined my day.”

“You’re going to have to trust me, and yourself.”

“Not a problem.” She gazed steadily at him. “I’m where I want to be. What else is there?”

“What indeed.” He touched her face, a softly loving caress. “I had no idea when I took on this assignment what it would lead to.”

“The facilitation-killer plot?”

“No.” He smiled. “You.”

Martine swallowed and let the sting of tears in her eyes speak for her.

“Now this is the part where trust comes in.” He tugged her to a luxurious velvet couch and pulled her down next to him, cuddling her into his embrace. “There are two things. First? You have to facilitate me, Martine.”

She jerked and gasped, but he lifted a finger and placed it on her lips. “Trust me. It’ll be okay.”

“I have to
kill
you?”

“Yes please. It’s the only way.”

“I don’t… I can’t…”

“Yes you can.” He squeezed her urgently. “You
must.
And the other thing…
I’m going to facilitate you as well.”

Martine’s mind blanked out on her and she could only gaze at Johann while her mind struggled to comprehend.

“It’ll be like Venice. Only better. You have the Theta key now. Don’t worry.” He dropped light kisses on her eyelids, and they closed as her neural interface stirred to life.

This time, there was a difference, a sense of incompleteness that suddenly filled with silver-blue ribbons—John’s energy signature.

She was vaguely aware of their interfaces mixing, twining around each other like lovers in search of total immersion in the act of melding.

The power of their life energies blended as well, becoming a glowing force that surrounded them, blinding them to the image of a room, sweeping them down into a new realm of brilliance and light.

“Let go, sweetheart
.

The words were whispered, and Martine realized she was clinging to the golden threads of her own energies and reaching for his as well. She focused, let her fears and anxieties be replaced by the love and comfort she could still feel emanating from John. He’d asked for her trust. Now was the time to give it to him. What else was there?

With no further thought nor regrets for what she might be leaving behind, she let go and felt their entwined energies fading away.

And together they exploded into somewhere new, somewhere crisp and bright, somewhere clean and welcoming where there was laughter, joy and the brilliance of a clear sky above her.

She sucked in a breath, gasping at the cool sensation, and reached for John who still held her in a grip of iron. “I…I…”

He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest. “Welcome to Theta, Martine.”

 

In the reality Martine and John had left behind, a worried man drummed his fingers on the surface of a massive antique desk. “Any news yet, Wendy?”

“No, Director. Nothing yet.”

It was the fourth time he’d asked in the last half hour, and he realized that if Wendy had been human, she’d have been wondering what the hell was going on right about now. Thankfully, she was only software, designed to serve and respond as required, independent thought not included. For a few minutes, Williams considered the option of replacing a few of his department managers with the same software. It would make his life a helluva lot easier and enrich the budget at the same time.

“Director. You have a message.” Wendy’s efficiently smooth voice interrupted his cogitations.

“Yes?”

“The facilitation you were monitoring has been completed.”

“And?”

“The message states that although the facilitation took place successfully, the facilitator known as Martine TwoSeven succumbed to an energy surge through the neural connections during the process.”

“Oh Lord.
And
?” The director leaned forward impatiently.

“She failed to survive the experience. Her life energies ceased to function within her neural interface at 1647 hours. Both the facilitator and the client have been recorded as deceased.”

He clicked off the comm unit and swore fluidly, for once regretting the series of events that had resulted in the loss of Martine TwoSeven. She’d been the best earning asset they’d had, word of mouth alone bringing in nearly twenty percent of their bottom line. They didn’t have another facilitator anywhere near as good or as marketable.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He swore again and rubbed at a sharp pain that coursed through his chest only to vanish before it became a nuisance.

Then he sighed, brushed off his impatience and reached for the comm unit again. “Wendy, get me President Chan. A-4 level priority. He’s expecting my call.”

“Yes sir. One moment please.”

Chan was indeed expecting the call. Scarcely had the screen flashed than he was there, inscrutably staring out at Williams. “You have news?”

“I do.” The director sat down. “The client has been successfully facilitated.”

Chan blinked, a rare sign of emotion. “That is most satisfactory.”

“Unfortunately there was another casualty.”

“Explain.”

“Our best facilitator, the one who performed the assignment, was apparently overcome by a neural-energy surge or something. She did not survive the facilitation either.”

Chan was silent for a moment, digesting the information. “That is…unfortunate.”

“Indeed. She was our best.”

Chan shrugged. “You will be recompensed. There will be others. For now, the threat has been neutralized.”

The director frowned. “Threat?”

“No matter.” Chan waved his hand dismissively. “Your funds will be deposited as usual. I will be unavailable for some time, so you will be speaking with my assistant, Professor Hua.”

“Vacation?” The director tried for a little cordiality.

“Of a sort, yes.”

“Well, I hope you have a good time.” He nodded. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

“It is a possibility.” Chan bowed and the screen went dark.

Fucking inscrutable bastards
. Williams leaned back in his chair. Still, they paid some hefty numbers into his personal account. He had no problems with that, for sure. And he reckoned it entitled them to dance naked upside down if they wanted.

He shrugged and stood. It was time to move on. Pity about Martine TwoSeven, but she was only a facilitator, although she had been one of the best. There were more out there. None of whom mattered very much in the overall scheme of things.

 

The director had no idea his words—and even his thoughts—were being overheard. In Theta, Martine and John stood side-by-side and listened in, Martine’s hand locked in his. She was standing, on two feet, a human with a body assembled—according to John’s loose explanation—from the energies within her cells.

He readily admitted he had little or no idea about the science behind their present forms. Then he touched her and asked her if she cared. She shook her head and smiled, laughing as hair moved and tickled her skin. There was no neural interface, no weight of wires anchoring her to her previous existence.

“There is so much we have yet to learn, Martine.” John took her to a window and let her look. “This is what our world used to look like. And what it will look like again in a few generations time. We could just exist here, pretend that it’s real and spend happy lives together. Everything you see and touch is present in this reality.”

He stared out as well, and yet Martine felt he wasn’t really seeing anything. “There’s a
but
coming, isn’t there?”

“Yes,” he agreed on a sigh. “We have this reality, but we also have the knowledge of other realities and what’s happening there. And, no matter where we happen to be or what form we take, we still have that essential humanity within us we call conscience.”

Martine leaned against him. “You can’t let them get away with it, can you?”

“No. I can’t. Others can’t. That’s why Theta was created, developed, however you want to describe it. This place, this Theta, is for us, the rare ones who can go beyond a single reality. Once here, we can meet, talk, exchange experiences and learn from each other. And we watch.”

“Watch what?”

“Watch
who
would be more accurate.” John glanced at her. “We watch those who we would ask to join us.”

“Like me?”

“Yes. Like you.”

“And who else?”

“We watch those who would control, destroy and otherwise completely mess up too many lives. Those who would grab more power than any one entity should possess.”

At that moment someone flicked a switch and the director’s voice came into the room. It was his conversation with the president of Shanxi.

Everyone listened, Martine most intently of all.

BOOK: The Facilitator
9.47Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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