Authors: Gennita Low
“Morning, Miss Roston. How was your sleep?”
Medic Room 3 should have been renamed Special Room for Helen Roston. As far as she knew, she was the only patient who went in and out of the place. Every instrument in the room was part of the Helen Roston S and M toys, as she called them—from the head-scan machine in the corner to the oscillators on the tables that monitored her. And to the left was the VR room. Most women had jewelry and shoes. She had tubes and electrodes.
“Normal,” Helen replied.
“Any interruptions?”
She sat down on the familiar leather sofa. “Nope.” She looked around casually. “You’ll have to take me to the viewing room one of these days.”
“Viewing room?”
“The one where you watch me sleep.”
There was a pause. “We don’t watch you, Miss Roston. All we do is monitor your brain waves and stats.”
Interesting. He was the second person—if you could call Eight Ball a person—confirming that someone else was watching her. Helen crossed her legs. “What, don’t you want to study my sleeping positions as well?” she asked lightly. “Might as well. You all seem to know just about everything else.”
Dr. Kirkland smiled as he pulled on plastic gloves. “How do you feel about tonight’s test? Do you feel ready? Anything bothering you?”
Putting an arm over her forehead, Helen stretched out in a classic psychiatric patient pose. “I don’t know, Doc. Sometimes my left foot seems to want to go one way and my right foot, the other. And I get totally confused whether it’s because one of my stepfathers hit me on that foot once. The left one, I mean. And being he’s a male authority figure, Freud would say that I have a problem with—”
“All right, Miss Roston, it’s good to see that you’re mentally alert.” Dr. Kirkland shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother asking questions of either of you. Evasion, evasion, evasion. How’s a doctor supposed to make charts? Let’s begin then.”
Either of them, huh? She was getting some good information this morning. Helen sat back up, offering her arm for the usual procedures. She looked at the door leading into the VR room. She had a few questions for her trainer, too.
She found out that they called the new VR chair the Portal. She watched Derek and some technicians playing around with it, using the goggles, head-scan gear and the special gloves on themselves, as they adjusted and fine-tuned the machine with its straps and electrodes. The experimental gears and switches excited geeks like them. She could tell from their little whoops now and then that they were having the time of their lives.
She shook her head, but was glad that she’d been allowed to watch them at work. She was going to find out as much as she could about the experiment and all the equipment, but being explained to and having it done to her were two entirely different things. Yeah, yeah, synchronized brain waves. A communications link that utilized her “talent.” But the reality—or the experience when it happened—was a jolt to any normal human being.
“We’re activating the Portal, Miss Roston.”
Derek’s voice jerked Helen back from her reverie. She was so used to people doing stuff to her body that she could drift off without even feeling needles. She took a deep breath.
“Give me a sec.” She wanted to be in total control this time. Someone else in her head. Get used to that, Helen. She released her breath, then mockingly drawled, “A girl’s got to get ready when she meets a Greek god, you know.” She flexed her fingers.
I want to get him closer.
She smiled, and instructed softly, “Okay, proceed, Derek.”
The darkness didn’t last as long this time. There was a quick prickle of awareness as something was turned on, then there he was, larger than life, in front of her.
Helen couldn’t help smiling. Well, what was there not to smile about, when she had created this beautiful creature herself? Her eyes went lower and her smile turned into a wide grin. Who said a girl couldn’t have her cake and eat it, too?
No need for greetings.
“How do you like your changes?”
she asked impishly.
“I suppose any man would thank you for extra blessings,”
he replied dryly.
She waved her arms out experimentally. The sense of space was so real, even though her mind was telling her she was really in VR mode.
“So, are you ever going to tell me what we do during these sessions? Besides me admiring your beauty, of course.”
She had read the contract and the stages of experiments but this was the vaguest part. What exactly was this man to her?
“How many times do we meet?”
“Look at it as a getting-to-know-you kind of thing,”
he replied. Was that a hint of mockery?
“And we meet as often as we can.”
Helen sauntered closer, tilting her head to the side a little as she looked up at him.
“So this is like questions and answers?
”
“Something like it. For now.”
It was unnerving how the avatar just stood there unmoving.
“Can you make yourself appear with clothes?”
she asked.
“No, you have total control over what I look like, Helen.”
“Oh. Am I embarrassing you?”
“But you wanted to.”
“That’s not so!”
Well, a little, but it was just her need to assert control.
“Yes, control is very important to you, and I don’t blame you at all. Your life isn’t your own these days.”
“
How do you read my mind? And how come I can’t read yours?”
She wrinkled her nose.
“Those brain wave sync tests, right? Somehow you can read my thoughts.”
He shook his head.
“No,”
he assured her quietly.
“Those tests aren’t advanced enough to read subjects’ minds, Helen. Let’s just say that I find this situation quite unique myself. The VR is supposed to let me see what your mind is projecting when you’re in session, but my sensory perception is also picking up things I shouldn’t—sometimes your thoughts, sometimes your feelings.”
She didn’t think she liked that at all.
“I don’t blame you.”
“Oh, stop. You’re going to make me nervous about my own thoughts.”
“No, you have to learn to get used to me, Elena.”
She stepped closer. It was strange how he sometimes switched to calling her Elena. It made their conversation even more intimate, somehow.
“Why?”
she asked. His eyes drew her to him, dark chocolate, and so secretive.
Again he shook his head.
“If I tell you, you’ll just anticipate and then fight it. It’s in your nature. I can feel it. You hate being told what to do and how to behave.”
Helen didn’t want him to tell her what she was like.
She
was the one trying to find out what he was like, dammit.
“T. told me to think of Greek myths. Hades kidnapped poor Persephone into the Underworld. She must’ve told you they call me Hell-on-Wheels. Is that why you chose that name?”
“Apt, don’t you think? Although I much prefer Elena.”
The way he said her name made her think of doing things with a man—naughty, private things. She quickly pushed the thoughts away.
Hades reached out and waved his hand. The perception of white light disappeared and Helen found herself in a desertlike place, a blazing sun above her. He waved again, and like magic, the sudden ovenlike heat was gone, and they were standing near the edge of a building, a long way above a snarl of traffic. She could feel the wind beating on her body and she reached out to grab his arm to steady herself. It felt hard and muscular.
“Fine, you have programmed controls at your end to play with the scenery,”
she yelled above the wind.
“So you’re Hades giving me a tour. What’s that got to do with your being able to read my thoughts and feelings?”
Hades turned suddenly, his eyes sharp and assessing.
“Give and take, Helen. That’s the foundation to a good relationship. What’s your remote view trigger code?”
H
er RV trigger. That was an essential key to her remote viewing. Any viewer had a code or a series of images to keep his or her hold on reality. Remote viewing was free-form…dangerous; without an experienced human monitor or a trigger code, the viewer could be lost in the ether. Mind…reality…ended up somewhere in the twilight zone.
A gust pushed Helen forward, closer to the edge of the building, and she tightened her hold on his arm. She willed herself to ignore the drop below.
“No,”
she said.
“Nice trick, but my mind can withstand trick questions.”
The wind stopped just like that. They remained standing at the edge of the tall building.
“I know. GEM’s NOPAIN’s a wonderful tool,”
Hades said,
“but that wasn’t a trick question.”
Very few people outside the most covert ops could casually bring up NOPAIN in conversation. Most operatives asked its meaning or its usage. Obviously, Hades already knew, and seemed to be trained in a form of it. The KGB and CIA each had their versions of NOPAIN. So, was her trainer once from the CIA? That was highly possible since COS Command recruited all its operatives from the different branches of covert government. Something else to file away.
“What do you call that wind?”
Helen demanded. She didn’t like the fact that he still hadn’t moved an inch.
“A finger itch at your end? You’re constantly trying to scare me. I haven’t forgotten our first meeting, you know.”
Or forgiven. But
forgiven
was an intimate word, pushing a training incident into the realm of the personal. She’d told herself that she wouldn’t make anything during her training personal, even down to the times when she knew they weren’t supposed to be watching her. She was going to be exactly what they were training her to be—a supersoldier-spy. But there were times, what Hades did with her in the CAVE, that almost crossed the line. She had a feeling that the person behind her avatar did that a lot.
A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.
“A test.”
“Of?”
It irked her that he didn’t address her comment about how he’d introduced himself.
“Your reflexes. You didn’t show much surprise at the sudden temperature changes. And you also aren’t afraid of heights. That’s good to know.”
Helen stared hard at him, then laughed.
“Reacting to temperature changes? Excuse me,”
she pointed out in between chuckles,
“but I’m not the one naked here. You…ummm…didn’t react much to extreme heat and height, either. That’s good to know.”
She was still holding on to his arm. When the wind was gusting hard, his solidity was very reassuring. An image of an anchor materialized in her mind.
“That’s good to know.”
Helen glared at the man beside her. She was getting terribly tired of his reading her thoughts. What she needed was…pure adrenaline. Without allowing herself to deliberate, she tugged at Hades’ arm and stepped off the building. It was a heart-stopping moment. His eyes met hers for that split second just before the free fall. He twisted his body and held her in his arms. There was no surprise in his gaze. Or fear. Whoooooosh.
Rush of air. Heart pounding. Her eyes closed as her head spun. In the back of her mind, the good Helen was already scolding her stupidity.
Helen, you dumb-ass, you can die from this, you know? VR is simulation of reality! A fall can result in fatality.
And the wicked Helen, despite knowing how bad her decision was, still grinned back.
By logic, a falling body from atop a high-rise tumbled down.
She wasn’t tumbling; she was floating.
Panic should make her claw the air. Scream. Kick out.
She was enveloped in warmth and there was no fear.
The spinning stopped. Helen opened her eyes. And saw nothing because she was buried in somebody’s chest. She heard the pounding of his heart. He was warm; he even had a scent. She turned her head. The scenery around them had returned to the white nothingness.
“Don’t move,”
Hades instructed softly.
She had a feeling that if she disobeyed this time, she would regret it.
“Don’t make a habit of ordering me around,”
she said, and was a bit annoyed at the huskiness of her voice. Dammit, did his arms around her have to feel so real?
He didn’t answer. There was a short silence as they sort of floated. Helen didn’t mind. Now that her body had caught up with her head, she felt a bit weak-kneed and breathless. Her arms, she discovered, were between their bodies and if she moved her right hand just a bit lower…
“That was a good test of me, but wrong time,”
he told her, his voice vibrating in her ear.
“Why?”
She forced the former suggestion from her mind.
“Because you alarmed poor Derek and Dr. Kirkland. The spike in your stats was unexpected and I didn’t tell them we were doing anything too dangerous today.”
Today.
Something else to mull over later. Hades must have some kind of communicating device with Dr. Kirkland and Derek.
“So am I suffering cardiac arrest in real life?”
She felt pretty calm about that. Besides, she was busy trying to stop her right hand from checking out something more interesting.
“No. You didn’t go splat. I turned that reality off. That’s the easy part. Stopping your mind from thinking that you’re falling to your death, however, is an entirely different thing.”
She slowly slid her head up to look into his face. His skin was smooth against hers and she ignored the urge to lick it to see whether he had a taste, too. He looked incredible up close, chiseled cheekbones and perfect lips. His eyes were half-open, sensual. And all those lovely blond locks cried out for her hands to run through them. This was a great way to have a heart attack.
There were more horrible ways to die, she supposed. Perhaps having a logical and calm conversation about simulated reality would settle her mind.
“What kind of incredible tech machine is the Portal, anyway? You can’t push a button and create a new reality? A net to scoop us up? A shorter jump?”
“You wanted to test me,”
he pointed out, one golden brow lifted in mockery.
“No more thoughts. Just reflex…you wanted to see what I would do in a situation where you put yourself at risk.”
“So you just let us fall?”
she countered, imitating his mockery by lifting her own brow. She was going to ignore the little dig about putting herself at risk.
“No, Elena,”
he replied softly.
“Think of how you felt right after the falling sensation.”
She stared thoughtfully at him.
“The adrenaline was there. My body believed I was falling. But my mind told me I was floating.”
She frowned.
“No, you told me I was floating. My head was spinning like crazy. You told me to close my eyes. I didn’t react like someone falling off a high-rise and I should have. I don’t have that much control over my body. Somehow, you made me feel…safe.”
He was silent again as she continued staring at him, absorbing her own analysis. The realization that she had been undergoing training all along was…a bit galling.
“And now,”
he said, and she swore she felt something in his mind, like a switch,
“we fall—”
Helen gasped as the sudden speed of falling came back. There was no more floating sensation, just a chaotic jumble of emotions as she tumbled. All she could do was grab hold of Hades tightly, focusing on him. The fall felt like forever and she rebelled at the thought that he was forcing the trust issue on her. She held on tighter anyway.
She let out an “ooooommmff” as she landed unceremoniously on something soft. And Hades was all hard and masculine on top of her.
“—onto a bed of feathers,”
he finished and for the first time, smiled.
If she hadn’t felt so pissed off at having been tested and tricked again, Helen would have taken the time to admire that glorious mouth.
“You could have done that the first time,”
she accused, trying to gather her scattered breath and wits together.
“What would that do?”
She didn’t have an answer. Well, she did, but it had nothing to do with feeling safe.
“Would your mind have accepted the sudden change?”
Hades continued.
“You aren’t that used to VR games yet, my sweet Elena.”
The endearment rolled off his tongue like hot honey. Helen was suddenly very aware of the softness of the bed below her. And the hardness of the body on hers. He was telling her that he was the expert in virtual reality and this game was under his control.
She met his dark gaze defiantly.
“Okay, I got the lesson. I’m to depend on you to keep me safe. Now let’s change scenery.”
Oh, man. She was beginning to think creating her dream man was really a bad idea. Well, not bad, not with that slow smile he was giving her. But definitely not to her advantage. It suddenly dawned on her that he was quite comfortable using her creation to manipulate her.
“Who said the lesson is over?”
he asked in a low voice.
A naked man. Correction, a very hot-looking naked man. In bed with her. This was one lesson Helen didn’t need to understand.
“Look, Hades,”
she began, batting her eyes innocently at him as she pushed at his chest,
“I really think you’re really sexy but it’s too soon in our relationship to really do anything about it. You have to give me time to get to know you better.”
His amusement crinkled the corner of his eyes.
“Which brings us back to the beginning. What’s your RV trigger, Elena?”
Her eyes rounded.
“Oho, seduction now, Hades? Surely your knowledge of all things NOPAIN tells you about that, too? It didn’t work the first time.”
“That wasn’t seduction. We’re done with the nonpersuasive portion; we’re now into the innovative negotiation part.”
He shifted, putting more weight on her.
“Didn’t Hades do that with Persephone?”
He was trying NOPAIN on her? Hell narrowed her eyes.
“I’m not negotiating anything with you. For one thing, I’m not your captive.”
“But think of the rest of the myth, Elena. It fits, doesn’t it?”
Helen was familiar with the story. In Greek mythology, Hades kidnapped Persephone and took her to the Underworld as his bride. While her mother, Demeter, the earth goddess, looked for her daughter, she ignored her duties and everything started to die. Hades made a bargain with Zeus. He would allow his bride to visit her mother every six months but she must return to the Underworld to stay with him for the remaining six. And that was how the world had its seasons. When Persephone came home, Mother Earth was happy and everything flourished; when she was in the Underworld, everything went into hibernation or died.
“In other words, if I don’t negotiate with you, the real world is going to dry out and die without me? Haha, Hades, you’re putting too much importance in my role. And umm, do you mind getting up? It’s very hard to have a conversation with a naked man lying on top of you.”
Now why did she have to pun about the hard part? He mocked her with that smile again and still didn’t move. She was going to lose her temper soon. Great, next she would be fighting and wrestling with a hard naked man. This wasn’t quite how she thought she would experience VR. Well, not right now, anyway.
“We don’t have much time, Elena. The coming test depends solely on your success, and your success is my interest, my job. Without the trigger, I can’t help you if you should have any problems.”
His head dropped lower. His breath warmed her cheek.
“Without the trigger, I can’t talk to you when you’re remote viewing.”
Helen refused to move her head those few inches to the left. He didn’t seem to even realize that he was lying naked on a woman. That was because he wasn’t really some Greek god hottie, you idiot. He wasn’t real, and so her state of turned-on-ness wasn’t either.
“You’re in my head talking to me now so why not when I’m remote viewing?”
His hand cupped her jaw, tilting her face toward his.
“The theory is that you would be in an alternate state of mind. The function of this virtual reality training is to get your mind used to having me in it while thinking and knowing everything is virtual. But even with that, my participation isn’t guaranteed because I don’t have your talent. When you’re remote viewing, it’s basically a personal VR experience. You’re alone, seeing and accessing information with your senses. But with TIVRRV, we’re going beyond that in this experiment. We’ve prepared every way we could—brain wave synchronization, mental prep, physical compatibility. I’ll be there with you, seeing what you see, and with your remote trigger, I can…”
he leaned even closer, his lips inches from hers
“…communicate with you, be your second pair of eyes, and pull you out if there are any problems.”
Helen looked into those dark eyes and instantly regretted it. The man was pure temptation. She had been craving chocolate for days and those sinful chocolate eyes were going to be her downfall. She grasped for a lifeline.
“Theory,”
she said, and there was that stupid husky frog in her throat again.
“That doesn’t sound promising.”
Her senses vibrated with need as his lips came even closer. She struggled to pay attention to his words, not to the heat rising between her legs.
“Every theory has a promise,”
he whispered.
“Theoretically, I’m not real, you thought so yourself, but…”
She swallowed the rest of his words as he kissed her. Gently, as if he wasn’t sure whether she was real himself. Tenderly, as if she was really Persephone being seduced. Her lips parted involuntarily and she felt his tongue delve in, slow and deliberate in its search for hers. Oh. My. God. The man could kiss. Or it could. Her virtual-made man. Whatever.