I required a slight lead on the Warheads for what I had in mind—at a minimum, getting proof of what was going on in that lab. Whatever it turned out to be.
Then I turned on my email auto-reply to be safe. If he couldn’t reach me or Butler, I’d be able to play dumbbell if anyone at the offices said the appointment had been canceled when I showed up. Not that I expected he would cancel. He’d been assured it was a puff piece and that I had an important father.
Next I signed in to chat to see if SmallvilleGuy had listened to the recording yet. I couldn’t wait until later.
I only had one day. Desperate times called for chatting in front of the others and trying not to make any goofy faces.
SkepticGirl1: You around? Get my message?
The little italicized script popped up that indicated SmallvilleGuy was there and typing.
SmallvilleGuy: Missed you too.
I smiled.
SkepticGirl1: I didn’t say I missed you.
SkepticGirl1: But I did.
SmallvilleGuy: Good, because I was about to feel dumb.
SkepticGirl1: Why?
SmallvilleGuy: For staging a picture of Shelby and Nellie Bly in jail—like you were all weekend.
He sent across the photo and I cracked up. He’d staged it in a barn, through a gate so that metal bars were like a jail cell (sort of), and the black and white baby calf was standing on the other side, a cranky-looking giant cow behind her (Bess, no doubt), and Shelby gazing up at her adoringly with a big dog grin.
I shouldn’t be laughing. A glance around told me the others thought I’d lost it. There was nothing to laugh about. We were down to the wire.
My heart beat quicker.
Because SmallvilleGuy was trying to lighten things for me. He’d thought of this over the weekend, assuming I’d be driven mad by being stuck in lockup, knowing that Monday would bring its own drama after what had happened in the game.
It was the sweetest thing. I tried to come up with a clever way to say that, but I couldn’t, so I stuck with the truth.
SkepticGirl1: That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.
SmallvilleGuy: I figured you’d need something to smile about. And you’re a sucker for cute animals. (Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. You’re still the toughest person I know.)
Before I could answer that . . .
SmallvilleGuy: Anavi hasn’t withdrawn her request?
SkepticGirl1: No, not yet. You have any bright ideas about what they’re up to at the lab?
SmallvilleGuy: Did you tell the others everything? About how they can mess with other people’s heads?
I sighed. If only.
SkepticGirl1: I couldn’t. There was nothing that tipped over the line that would make them believe in mad science.
SmallvilleGuy: Lois . . .
He was typing, and then typing, and then typing some more. But when he posted his message, it was short. More deleted things I’d never see.
SmallvilleGuy: I hate the idea of you going up against these guys alone.
I gnawed my lip, tapping a finger on the edge of the keyboard.
I hated it too.
But I would do it anyway. The next day, in fact.
SkepticGirl1: I need to get in there.
SmallvilleGuy: If they’re willing to experiment on human beings . . .
SkepticGirl1: This could be dangerous? I know, which is why I’m not taking anyone else along. I can handle it.
SkepticGirl1: You and me, remember? We protect people. We do what we have to do.
SkepticGirl1: At least, that’s what I think. You going to tell me it’s not true? That you’d do anything different in my place?
SmallvilleGuy: I don’t like it. Just wait. Give it time.
I shook my head before I remembered he couldn’t actually see me.
SkepticGirl1: Time’s up. They said they’re getting stronger and the lab guy seemed to agree.
SmallvilleGuy: Right, about that. What you sent helped. I did some more article searches. I’m willing to bet that Project Hydra is a new application of the real-sim tech. The original creator of Worlds had all these theories that were considered “out there” around group gaming and remapping neural pathways. He believed that the right auditory stimulus paired with the right real-sim imagery could do it. He gave a speech once saying he believed people’s brains could be rewired to work together and create a whole new, smarter consciousness during the game. And then disconnected just as easily with a different set of audiovisual cues.
SkepticGirl1: Those tones we heard. They leaned forward during them both times. They weren’t just listening, it was like they were looking at something too.