Voice (18 page)

Yeah, that’s it, not because he knew you were a sadistic creep
, she thought. “I just needed to see you locked up.”

His eyes narrowed for a moment before his expression recovered. “You were the one who locked me in my lab, weren’t you? I suspected as much.” He shook his head. “We could’ve made such a team if we’d just worked together, Jemma. Our brilliance, together? We’d be unstoppable.” He leaned forward. “It’s not too late, you know. You can still report to me until they release me.”

Jemma stared at him. “You really think either of those things would happen? That I would help you when I’m not being forced, or that you’re going to be released any time soon after what you’ve done?” She’d never be able to pull off sincere agreement or patience when talking to him, but she’d had luck with goading him in the past.

“Jemma,” he said, his voice low and earnest, “I’m just an assistant. All I’ve done is gather information. Why would they keep me for long? Why wouldn’t you come to me if you realized you were still able to Talk?”

Josh watched her carefully, and Jemma kept her features still. Her stomach churned. Was he guessing, or did he know? “What do you mean?” She managed to keep her voice steady.

“See, I’ve got this theory.” He leaned back in his chair, studying his free hand. “Those of you who have natural telepathy, I think part of the limitation, part of the reason we didn’t see the results we wanted and why we had trouble before and after the Event, the thing that makes some of you more compatible with others, is that you all function on different wavelengths. I wasn’t able to find any equipment that could measure those wavelengths without something—someone—else to connect to, but based on my best theories and statistical models, I suspect there are about eight different wavelengths.”

Jemma flashed again on the colors she’d seen, on her suspicion that the similarity between hers and Jack’s could make it easier for them to Talk. Colors were sometimes discussed in terms of wavelength and frequency, weren’t they? Maybe he’d been looking for the right thing in completely the wrong way; it would explain why he hadn’t found a machine that measured it properly. It might still translate to the lines that she’d seen so often on the monitors, but not in a way that would make sense.

“With how strong the connection was between you and Jack,” he continued, saying his name dismissively, “the only conclusion I can come to is that the two of you function on the same wavelength. The siblings may have, also. I didn’t get to study them firsthand, not together.” And Jemma hadn’t checked their colors like she had with the others. “I’m less sure about those two. But you two, you and Jack? I would stake my reputation on the fact that you can still Talk.”

“Your reputation as assistant?”

His eyes flashed, not in the anger she’d expected, but in appreciation. “I’d stake a little more than that, maybe. Those first weeks would’ve been so much more entertaining if I could’ve understood you, wouldn’t they have? You’re quick, and it shows when you’re angry.” He leaned forward. “Come on. Tell me. What are the limits? How far does it reach?”

She shook her head. “You remember, I cured everyone. Reversed the limitations that you put on them. Aside from the fact that I still can’t see right, still have headaches, still have throbbing pain in my arm, all because of experiments that
you
put me through, everything’s gone back to normal. I can talk again,
out loud
. I can see my family again, can try to get my job back, can go back to my
life
.” She realized she’d raised her voice, and she turned to see one of the detention assistants watching her with a warning on his face. Nodding at the guard, she closed her eyes, waited until she’d gotten her breathing back under control, then looked back at the monitor.

Josh was smiling serenely at her. “Jemma.” He said her name as if she were a small child who had just said something unreasonable but inoffensive. “I was just an assistant. I didn’t have any power to approve anything on my own. How could I have put limitations on anyone or caused you all that harm? I wanted to work
with
you, Jemma. I still do.”

Jemma held the phone away from her ear, staring at it as if it could help her understand the man on the other end, the one she’d thought she had a handle on. Of course, though, if he was playing the assistant angle, he wouldn’t admit to anything incriminating over this sort of system; it might be recorded and used against him. She wanted to hang up, wanted to leave, but she still hadn’t really found out what she’d come for. She put it back up to her ear. “How could we work together if you’re in there? What would you even do with the information?”

“That sort of thing shouldn’t really be exchanged over the phone like this.” He tilted his head to one side, studying her. “I want you to think about it, Jemma, because I know you’re just baiting me right now. Think about how much we could learn together. I have lab equipment, separate from the company’s, so it won’t be confiscated. It wasn’t used in any illegal activities. Without the company involved, there would be no need for the particular sorts of force you were subjected to, since you would, of course, be a volunteer.”

The hair on the back of Jemma’s neck stood on end. “You still haven’t explained how we would communicate, how you would access any of this.”

“Did you know I wasn’t always interested in science?” He sat back again, his expression changing, looking thoughtful. “No. Originally, and you’d know this already if you’d shown more interest, I actually studied communication. Foreign language, cyphers, body language, oh, any form of communication with information I could get my hands on. My transcripts were a mess.” He grinned, rolling his eyes before fixing them back on her. “Telepathy, Jemma, isn’t the only means of covert communication. And me?” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m not the only assistant I know who was a little smarter than his supervisors.”

“What does that mean? Are you saying you have someone else helping?” She watched his mouth twitch. “Is there more of the company still out here?”

“I’m stuck here in this silly jail cell. How would I know who’s still out there?”

He was talking in circles, trying to scare her, trying to keep from incriminating himself, or both, but she was pretty sure he was trying to imply that he had at least one connection.

The backup laboratory, meanwhile, had been more than simple implication.

“Speaking of stuck, Jemma,” he continued. “Did you know I was in the lab for a full day after you locked me in there? It was a good thing I kept those granola bars in there for you, or I might have lost weight.”

Jemma let out a disbelieving huff. Under his care, she’d lost so much weight that none of her clothes fit, that she couldn’t get through a normal meal before she had to stop because she wasn’t used to eating anymore. “Just tell me, if I decide to help you study whether or not I can Talk now that the Event’s been reversed, do I have to come back here to let you know?”

He smiled slowly, his lips pulling upward until his teeth were exposed. “Don’t you worry, Jemma. I’ve got everything under control, and we’ll be able to work together again soon enough.”

CHAPTER TWENTY:

Underway

Only her limited eyesight kept Jemma from running as far from the video visitation center as she could once she got outside. She reminded herself that her need to get away from the building was irrational; Josh wasn’t even there, was miles away, and trying to navigate sidewalks and busy streets with drivers who didn’t always watch for pedestrians was a bad idea when she wasn’t able to compensate. She pulled out her phone, muttering a curse when she saw how badly her hand was shaking. She concentrated until she could hold it still enough to see to text Jack, not yet trusting herself to speak aloud.

Done. Come get me?

On my way
, came the immediate response.

She put the phone back away and shivered, despite the fact that she’d dressed way too warmly for the time of year. She hadn’t wanted Josh to be able to see her arm, though, what it had taken to remove the tracker. She hadn’t wanted him to see how much weight she’d lost, or really anything that he didn’t have to. She’d thought it would help her keep control of the situation, wearing a sweatshirt.

Because wearing a sweatshirt made any difference at all when dealing with somebody who could get under your skin so completely.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, trying to decide whether she needed to work through her conversation with Josh or distract herself from it. She would need to go back through the conversation soon, she knew, but she wasn’t handling it well at the moment, and it was possible that alone, in front of a place designed to visit inmates, next to a busy street, might not be the best place to have a breakdown, if it came to that.

Once she had re-examined the exchange, though, then she could move on to making a plan, and that, she knew, should help her get her bearings.

***

“He’s sure he’s getting out, and soon.” Jemma started speaking before she’d even shut the car door, twisting and pulling rather than giving Jack a chance to help her close it. “He’s claiming he was just an assistant, and I don’t know whether he knows something, knows that they’re letting the lower-level employees go or what, but he is completely sure that he’s going to be released.”

Jack watched her. She knew her hair had to be a mess from running her hand through it, and her voice had been pitched higher than usual. He commented on neither, nodding once and turning his attention to the drive home. “Okay. We’ve got a heads up. We can make sure someone knows that he’s just pretending. The senator should know who we can contact.” She closed her eyes and nodded, sending acknowledgment when she felt him cover her hand. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes. He says he has a whole lab set up, waiting for him, ready to get back to. Jack, what if he does this all over again? If I understood how everything works, he can’t recreate the exact nanocreatures that were behind the Event because they’d be killed, but we know the cure didn’t help everyone, so we know there are some that are immune to it, right? What if he finds out what makes them immune and bases new ones on that?”

“With what resources?” Jack asked after a moment. “We know he did a lot more than he should have for an assistant, but he would’ve still been paid like one, right? If he put together an entire lab, I can’t imagine he has anything left in the way of funds. The nanocreatures can’t be cheap to create.”

Jemma let out a breath. “That’s true. He’s working with others, though, or at least, I think that’s what he was implying. He wouldn’t come out and say it. I’m not sure whether it was because he didn’t want to incriminate himself or because he knew how it would affect me, not knowing. But he was talking about communication and other assistants, and it’s the only thing I can think of that makes sense.”

Jack squeezed her hand. “Okay. So we assume he has help. That might mean other people or more money. That complicates things, doesn’t it?”

“He might already have access to the people who haven’t been cured. We don’t know.”

Jack sent a wave of reassurance. When they stopped at a light, he drummed the fingers of his free hand against the steering wheel. “We’ll talk to the senator as soon as we get back to my dad’s. If he can’t help, he should at least know who we should contact. In the meantime, how are you doing with all this? Can you manage food? I did promise Dad we’d stop, but he’s asleep, and I can go back out before he wakes up.”

“I don’t know whether I can eat,” answered Jemma. “We can stop for food, though. It doesn’t make sense for you to have to come back out.”

She watched out the window, the world mostly a blur even at the lower, city speed limits. How could one person affect so much? He was just one person. Yes, he might have connections, and she should probably be more worried about them; she wouldn’t know who to watch for, who to worry about.

However, even knowing that somebody could show up to continue his work, it would still be
his
work. He’d taken a mission for a company and run with it, completely beyond all reason, making it look like he believed he was helping the world by doing it, by forcing his goals on everyone else, no matter the cost.

And he’d done it all with a smile on his face.

***

“Wait, she did what?” The senator was on speaker phone, Don asleep in the back bedroom, and Jack had started the conversation.

“She went to speak with the person who did most of the experimenting on her because she—we all—we were sure something wasn’t right. And it’s true.” Jack paced in front of Jemma while he spoke, staying close enough to her that she could join in when she was ready or if she had something to add or clarify.

“And the detective working with you didn’t advise against you doing this?” asked Myles, a disbelieving tone in his voice.

“What detective?” Jack asked, slowing.

“All of those kidnapped were supposed to be assigned a detective. One should’ve contacted you. It’s how they’re coordinating to get testimony, to make sure that the right people are put away for the right amount of time.”

“Nobody’s contacted us,” said Jack. “We’ve been on our own since we got here.”

“I don’t think anyone’s contacted Marcia or Ken, either,” added Jemma. “I think they’d have mentioned it.”