“We’ve still got about forty minutes if you want to shower.”
Danielle stretched a pair of cables from the laptop to the helmet. “You’re not exactly springtime fresh yourself,” she said.
He glanced down at the wet spot she’d left on his chest. “Yeah, well, that’s why I always bring a spare.” He peeled off his tee-shirt and tossed it on the table near the armor’s right arm.
A longer cable unspooled to the back section on the next table. She seated it and accessed the main processors along the armor’s spine. Her attention went to the laptop and made it clear she had no interest in seeing his very broad and naked torso. A few strokes on the mousepad activated a set of diagnostic programs and she glanced over the screen to watch him pull the fresh shirt across his chest.
“I’m going to hit the shower,” she said. “Are you going to wait?”
He shrugged. “If you want.”
She nodded at the flimsy curtain separating the bathroom from the workspace. “I’m trusting you to at least act like a gentleman.”
“I’ll be working on my goggles with my back to you.”
Danielle rolled her eyes and wondered if he was ever going to take the hint. A minute later she was surrounded by the comfort of the tiny shower stall. She left the curtain open just enough so it didn’t look deliberate. Not enough she felt exposed. Ten minutes later she walked from the shower to her bedroom in a wet towel and bared her teeth at his back.
“Set,” she said a few minutes later.
“Wait there.” He gave one of the tiny screwdrivers a half turn and tapped the trigger a few times. On the work bench, his goggles flashed open and shut. Another slight adjustment, another test, and he lifted the lenses back to his face.
“You good?” She’d walked up right behind him.
He turned. “Yeah. Thanks for the tools.”
“No problem. Let’s get this over with.”
She killed the overheads at the door, leaving a circle of light at the center of the room. The last sections of the armor still stood between the workbenches, headless, armless, and backless. The power cable ran off into the darkness.
Only a few hours and she could have it back on.
Gorgon scowled across the table. “What’s he doing here?”
Josh sighed and turned to St. George. “I told you this would be a waste of time.”
“He is here because I asked him to be,” said Stealth.
“Why?” asked Danielle. “Connelly’s our senior doctor. If anyone should be here it’s her.”
“Because he understands the virus,” said Stealth. “And he understands us.”
“And Doctor Connelly’s setting a broken arm right now,” said Josh. “Nice to see you, too, Danielle.”
Barry placed his palms on the table and hefted himself up out of the wheelchair. He swung his butt onto the tabletop. There were half a dozen pictures of the prisoner scattered across Stealth’s usual collection of maps.
“You are all aware of this new development. The Seventeens have found a means of keeping their intellect and awareness when they transform into exes. It would appear they still pose a threat to us.” She held up one of the photographs. “Eduardo, last name unknown. He claims to be here under the orders of the gang’s boss, an individual by the name of Peasy. According to Gorgon, the number and style of Eduardo’s tattoos indicate he has only been with the Seventeens for a few months at best, which would be the proper rank for such an assignment.”
Danielle blinked. “They’re still initiating people?”
Gorgon nodded. “It’s what they do. The gang just exists to grow, build up prestige, grab territory. There’s no outside system left, but they still want the power.”
“Next question,” said St. George. “Have many of the Seventeens changed? Are most of them exes?”
“I dropped over a dozen of them when they attacked the other night. They’re still alive. The majority of them, at least. And all five prisoners were alive when they were brought in.”
“Are you sure your power doesn’t work on the...” St. George shrugged. “On the smart ones? Maybe they’re different somehow.”
“I tried Eduardo in the cell. No effect. He’s dead.”
“About that,” asked Barry, “did all the prisoners change?”
Stealth set her fist on the table and rested on her knuckles. “The two who committed suicide both became exes. So far only Eduardo has shown signs of intelligence.”
“And we’re sure he’s intelligent? Not just spitting out words like a parrot or something?”
“As of yesterday he has taken part in three conversations. He is making definite, deliberate responses.”