I pointed to the door. ?Out.? Not waiting to see whether she obeyed me?largely because I was pretty certain she wasn?t going to?I grabbed my overnight bag off the floor by the foot of the bed and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
There?s only one way to prevent a migraine from the combination of too little sleep and too much light from fully establishing itself, and that?s to wear my contacts. They come with their own little complications, like making my eyeballs itch all damn day, but they block a lot more light than my sunglasses. I pulled the case out of my bag, popped off the top, and withdrew the first of the lenses from the saline solution where they customarily floated.
Normal contact lenses are designed to correct problems with the wearer?s eyesight. My eyesight is fine, except for my light issues, which the lenses can compensate for. Unfortunately, while normal contacts enhance peripheral vision, these ones kill the greater part of mine by covering the iris and most of the pupil with solid color films that essentially create artificial surfaces for my eyes. I?m not legally allowed to go into field situations while wearing contacts.
Tilting my head back, I slipped the first lens into place, blinking to settle it against my eye. I repeated the process with the other eye before lowering my head and looking at myself in the mirror. My reflection gazed impassively back at me, eyes perfectly normal and cornflower blue.
The blue was my choice. When I was a kid they got me brown lenses that matched the natural color of my eyes. I switched to blue as soon as I was old enough to have a say. They don?t look as natural, but they also don?t make me feel like I?m trying to lie about my medical condition. My eyes aren?t normal. They never will be. If that makes some people uncomfortable, well, I?ve learned to use that to my own advantage.
I straightened my clothes, tucked my sunglasses into the breast pocket of my shirt, and ran a brush through my hair. There, that was as presentable as I was going to get. If the senator didn?t like it, he could damn well refrain from allowing any more late-night attacks on the convoy.
Buffy was gone when I emerged from the bathroom. Shaun handed me a can of Coke and my MP3 recorder, wrinkling his nose. ?You know your contacts creep me out, right??
?That?s the goal.? The soda was cold enough to make my back teeth ache. I didn?t stop gulping until the can was empty. Tossing it in the bathroom trash, I asked, ?Ready??
?For hours. You girls always take forever in the bathroom.?
?Bite me.?
?Not without a blood test.?
I kicked his ankle, grabbed three more Cokes from the room service tray, and left the room. Steve was waiting in the hall, blood test unit still in his hand. I eyed it.
?Isn?t this going a bit far? We went from cleanup to bed. I doubt there was a viral reservoir in the closet.?
?Hand,? Steve replied.
I sighed and switched my pilfered sodas to my left hand, allowing me to offer him the right. The process of testing me, and then Shaun, took less than a minute. Both of us came up unsurprisingly clean.
Steve dropped the used units into a plastic bag, sealed it, and turned to walk down the hall, obviously expecting us to follow. Shaun and I exchanged a glance, shrugged, and did exactly that.
The boardroom was three floors up, on a level you needed an executive keycard to access. The carpet was so thick that our feet made no sound as we followed Steve down the hall to the open boardroom door. Buffy was seated on a countertop inside, keying information into her handheld and trying to stay out of the way of the senator?s advisors. They were moving back and forth, grabbing papers from one another, making notes on whiteboards, and generally creating the sort of hurricane of productive activity that signals absolutely nothing happening.
The senator was at the head of the table with his head in his hands, creating an island of stillness in the heart of the chaos. Carlos flanked him to the left, and as we crossed the threshold, Steve abandoned us to cut across the room and flank Senator Ryman to the right. Something must have alerted the senator to Steve?s presence because he raised his head, looking first toward the bodyguard and then toward us. One by one, the bustling aides stopped what they were doing and followed the direction of the senator?s gaze.
I raised a can of soda and popped the tab.
The sound seemed to snap the senator out of his fugue. He sat up, clearing his throat. ?Shaun. Georgia. If the two of you wouldn?t mind taking your seats, we can get things started.?
?Thanks for holding the briefing until we got here,? I said, moving toward one of the open chairs and setting my MP3 recorder on the table. ?Sorry we took so long.?
?Don?t worry,? he said, waving a hand. ?I know how late you were out with the cleanup crews. A little sleep is hardly repayment for going above and beyond the call of duty like that.?