Rebel Heart Page 10

  The laboratory was assembled in one of Tori's favorite spots. Her office and workspace sat high in the tower from which the City was named. Her room had always been in the tower. It was the place from where she and Nessa had grown up and learned to escape from at such an early age. And in the process of escaping, she had avoided the confining restraints of the City and enjoyed the blessed freedom that so few in this sheltered life understood. The freedom was the foundation for her heart and soul. Without it, she would wither and die.

  Three main sections of the laboratory harbored her secrets, one holding a myriad of computer terminals from which her sister Nessa held charge over, another being a storehouse of equipment and sterilized experimental space, and the third being the visitor's center located as a type of bulwark in the main part of the building. Only those well versed in disease control guessed at what went on behind the well-manicured and carefully disguised visitor's section. Only a few were trained to know. Sheridan knew about some of it.

  The lab had been assembled a year ago when the period of Tori's and Nessa's banishment ended, when a deadly mutant strain of the signe virus spread through the cities for the second time in five years, when they were welcomed back to their father's City as possible angels of mercy.

  Yet they were far from saviors. They had no pedestal-like characteristics. They came as two women, bent on humanistic endeavors, thrilled with the promise their research held, afraid of falling from grace once more, but more than ever determined to spread their wings and fly on the winds of freedom.

  Rebels at heart, they had come of age, each in her own way, each seeking their own identity, one no longer the shadow of the other. The blood of all three worlds flowed in their veins. Tori and Nessa's grandfather had married an Outsider, but that was before the world spun crazily out of control. Then their own father, Advisor DeMontville, married a physician, a healer from the old world. She was an individual who belonged to neither the cities nor the forests. She was a woman so beautiful that many vied for her hand.

  Tori's father had told her he'd seen her mother in the forest, wild and free, her untamed hair flying around her head. He had hesitated, unable to tear his eyes from her. She fled when she saw him, luring him with her innocence, beckoning him with her sweetness. The sight of her entranced him, bound him to her forever, and no one could tell him that he could not have her.

  Not even the physician herself.

  It wasn't an easy task to convince her. Determined and righteously stubborn, she refused his suit, the suit of a City Dweller, as if he was beneath her, Tori's father had said. After the story was told and delivered magnificently as if he were on stage, Tori's mother spoke of it differently. "I pretended an indifference to the politics he was so enamored of. And I made him memorize in minute detail every part of the human body imaginable and its function. But that did not deter him. He was a tenacious man, and before I could find something else to distract him, another mountain to climb, so to speak, he had asked for my hand. I had never believed him a romantic, but he pursued the topic with the gentlest concern over candlelight and music and upon bent knee. He touched my heart."

  With every glance, every breath of air their love for each other was apparent, and Tori had treasured it close to her heart, spinning her own fantasies about love and happiness forever.

  With her banishment, Tori had lost the ability to spin fairy tales. Life exploded around her that long-ago day in the forest, and she'd never quite recovered. When her father died, she'd ostracized herself and the girlish daydreams that had still hovered in the back of her mind. Tori rallied quickly, only to discover the limitations her father had brought down upon her. Then, within a few years, she found that no one paid her any attention. Indeed, she believed that all save Jonathan had forgotten her existence. They had forgotten, either because she was an embarrassment to them or because they had truly forgotten that she had humiliated her father, Advisor DeMontville. Jonathan had indulged her, casting a blind eye to what he called a passing fancy and had given her carte blanche when it came to building and assembling her laboratory. And that, Tori knew well, was an over-sight Jonathan might well correct when he learned how very indulgent he had been.

  The monitor in her office shadowed Sheridan and his associates, clearly indicating his progress through the visitor center into the level one-security rooms. The wretched man flipped through several files on a computer screen as she watched. After giving a disgusted snort, he strode through the door connecting him to level two-security. From her office on level four-security, she hurried so she could meet Nessa and Sheridan on level two. Practically flying through a maze of well-hidden stairways, Tori reached the level two rooms. After smoothing her hair and her clothes, she opened the door.

  "Victoria! I hope this unannounced visit will not hinder your research."

  She forced her most regal appearance. "Why, Mr. Sheridan, you know what we do here is trivial in comparison to the other laboratories."

  "You do your efforts an injustice," Sheridan told them, looking over the spacious room. Having reached her, he accepted the hand she held out in greeting. She forced herself not to pull back. "You should not have brought the dog."

  Sheridan was simply a man doing his job, she reminded herself pointedly. He sought the cure to this horrible epidemic as much as any man or woman living in this small global community. He just reminded her of the devil somehow. He was dark and his black eyebrows connected at the bridge of his nose, hovering over almost black eyes. He was average in height, hardly an imposing figure, but he was cunning and quick-witted.

  "Well, look around, sir," Tori murmured, backing her way across the room. She looked around his shoulders trying to identify the people following him. Nessa assumed a place beside her. "Hope, come."

  First, there came the high priestess Janellen, a curious priest if ever there were one. She was a tall, lean, beautiful woman with a startling transparency about her. Though she could stand there and pretend a pious devotion to God, Tori found it difficult to believe she was devoted to anything but herself. Janellen worked at the disease control center as an angel of mercy. Janellen did not meet her gaze.

  "Victoria DeMontville," she greeted Tori, seeming exceptionally charming and yet reticent.

  Beyond the priestess came David Hammond, another member of the disease control center's staff. He was distinguished for his work with mutant varieties of viruses. His development of the serum that had first worked its magic on the signe virus was well known. He, too, greeted Tori with a reserved friendliness, and she became uneasy, wondering at their true purpose at coming here.

  Then the last of Sheridan's entourage came through the level two-security door. He was taller than the others, more arresting than the others--more portentous than the others.

  Quentin Morray. Threatening. Evil incarnate.

  She despised the man with an intensity that had increased the last ten years. She could never look at him without recalling that long-ago time when she had encountered her father with the thieves and thieftakers in the forest.

  She could not look at him without recalling the danger her father had been in because of him.

  Morray...

  He had red hair and a well-trimmed mustache and beard. His eyes were fathomless and brooding. He should have been handsome, except that the fast lifestyle he'd accustomed himself to already showed clearly in his physique. As a wealthy overlord now, he indulged himself in every vice imaginable.

  His evil manifested itself in everything he did. The sight of Morray could make many women shudder. No man within the province had so horrid a reputation.

  Gossip and speculation surrounded him wherever he went. He left fear and desperation in his wake, yet no one dared stop him.

  Like the life-style he devoured, his predilection for brutality and torture lived in the smile on his face.

  "Quentin Morray," Tori forced the words. Hope growled low and deep. She had nothing to fear now. Sheridan would not let anything happen to her
while he was still bent on analyzing her research data. Sheridan was a lot of things, but his career and the acquisition of knowledge always came first. Also, men who might not care what happened to her would rise against Sheridan if he let anything happen to Advisor DeMontville's daughter.

  Yes, it all came down to knowledge, and that was exactly the reason why Sheridan and his cohorts had come. Or was it? She had never willingly let anyone into her laboratory, especially a man like Morray. On the few occasions when other scientist came forth with questions, she had defied all unwritten codes. Instead of staying to field the questions, she would leave some excuse, absenting herself from the premises and then order the immediate shutdown of all data banks while the scientists were present.

  "Tori...ah, that is what your friends call you, am I right?" Morray asked, catching her hand and holding it despite her obvious distress, his eyes raking the length of her body.

  She withdrew her hand as quickly as possible, shoving it into her pocket. "My friends," she said, curtly stressing the word "friends".

  Morray's answering smile was anything but friendly, nor did he look amused.

  "Oh, sweetheart, I believe we will be more than friends."

  Her heart slammed against her chest as her body began to shake violently.

  Defying the terror and the horrible rolling sensation in her stomach, Victoria DeMontville regally confronted her opponent. "Where would you like to commence the tour?" Tori asked them. "With the computer terminals on level two or would you prefer to move right on to level three? I can assure you there is nothing unusual about any of the facilities." She proffered Sheridan a bemused smile, trying to remember the role she played, despite the changed circumstances.

  "I want to see everything. I understand the equipment here is state of the art, and I also have been led to believe your terminals contain archaic information. Data that could be termed fanciful at best. I'm curious how you use it. Perhaps you are merely wasting time and money here. Perhaps this center is in need of a more knowledgeable, refined department head." He looked at Morray.

  "Nothing fanciful, you'll see, goes on here. We always follow every possible lead and nothing more."

  "I see," Sheridan murmured, his eyes on her. For a moment, they were filled with disdain.

  David Hammond pulled a chair out and switched on the computer in front of him. It hummed to life.

  "Some of the best hunting can be found within seemingly humdrum screens, you know. And with Nessa close by, prepared to fill in any holes I might encounter...why, your terminal is an open book; did you know that, Tori?"

  "I am well versed in your ability and, of course, Nessa is the best," she murmured. "So are you planning on some hunting?"

  Hammond began to hum a noxious ribald tune that Tori had heard as a child when the City guards were unaware of her presence.

  "Oh, yes, I'm out for anything that looks the least bit suspicious or illegal."

  "That's a relief," Tori said lightly.

  "What, nothing to hide?" Janellen remarked, every bit as lightly. "Of course David, with his expertise at the computer terminals, has a way of surprising even the most boring opponent. He is really quite efficient. I can hardly wait for the outcome."

  "Shall we proceed, Tori," Sheridan said, moving from his position next to the computer terminal. "Level three and four and matters of importance."

  "I'll inform the staff. They'll be overjoyed," Tori murmured to Sheridan, anxious for them to finish and leave the premises.

  Morray stood behind her. Her skin crawled.

  "This will be an unforgettable day," he said softly, bending low to let his breath whisper across her neck.

  She fought the nausea churning in her stomach. "You are so sure," Tori said, turning around. "What would you wish to remember? The long, boring list of data you'll have to decipher, the cleanliness of the lab, or perhaps our sterilization techniques? Mayhap a moment in the purification chamber would exhilarate you."

  Fury lined every muscle of his face. "What an impertinent little bitch."

  "No one should be so rude," Janellen dictated piously.

  "No need to bicker," Sheridan laughed. He patted Tori's head as if she were nothing but a child and strode to the door. "Announce on the intercom that I have free reign as long as I'm here, Victoria. I'd not like it if I met with any resistance or recalcitrant technicians. You did imply that you have nothing to hide, did you not?"

  "As you say," Tori murmured uneasily.

  "A likely story," Hammond said softly. "Victoria, I cannot believe you have not heard all the wild tales lately. Why, the grapevine here is alive with accusations and recriminations. Numerous laboratories tapping into the infinite boundaries of cybernetics have been astounded by the ludicrous information floating through the channels."

  "The accusations hurt us all," Sheridan said irritably, his hand resting on the door, "and I'm sure the rumors are unfounded. You have tapped into some of these blatant lies, have you not, Victoria?

  "Nessa deals with the computers."

  Sheridan moved to Tori's side, watching her eyes. "You actually expect me to believe that travesty. There is a computer block they call Romeo. And another with the name of Juliet, though perhaps you do not understand the significance. Have I underestimated your proclivities toward the past, your need for adventure and the romantic, Victoria?"

  "Romeo and Juliet? How quaint," Tori repeated, relieved. She didn't need to pretend. "I have no idea what you're implying. Romeo and Juliet, a Shakespearian play, I believe. But computer blocks? You've been ensconced in your lab too long."

  "Romeo, Juliet! They must be ferreted out! The perpetrator found and prosecuted," Morray demanded.

  "And the other, the one they call Isolde," David Hammond said glumly. "I have spent hours in search of this quarry while trying to decipher the hidden codes that lead directly to this terminal. It is said this is the home base."

  "And I should like the proof," Morray said. "I imagine I could deal quite well with the perpetrators once they were found."

  Shudders raked Tori's frame. "I can imagine," she said coolly. "Perhaps, Sheridan," she told him, "you prefer not to hunt in these terminals since you think so much is at stake."

  "Nothing's at risk here," Sheridan assured her sarcastically. "Of course you already know that, don't you?"

  "Excuse me?" Tori returned.

  David Hammond gave a short, fierce victory cry, causing her insides to plummet as he tapped out a rapid fire staccato on the keyboard. "Damn," he murmured then, "it vanished again."

  Quentin Morray stared at her for a few tremulous moments then reached out to touch her cheek.

  "It will be a day for surprises," he told her as if he already knew what lay behind all the carefully manicured nonsense she was willing to present to them.

  When they left, each going unattended to separate destinations in the complex, Tori breathed a deep sigh, relief pervading her body. Tori and Nessa hurried out of the room, quickly slipping through one of the secret doors into the passage to the tower room.

  "Nessa, do you remember how to pray? If Sheridan finds anything, anything at all, there will be hell to pay. Morray will be ensconced here permanently then what will we do?"

  Nessa straightened, a determined line formed across her lips. "Don't worry." She grinned suddenly. "That pompous fool Hammond will never unlock the door he needs. My confidence lies with you. Meanwhile, let's not waste valuable time second guessing their progress."

  Tori laughed softly. "You never cease to amaze me." They hurried up the spiraling stairway that led to the tower room, her office and her own set of rooms.

  The monitors hanging on the wall transcribed every move Sheridan and Morray made. "What are they up to now?" Nessa asked, anxiously peering at the television screen.

  "I have to move quickly, Nessa. It's obvious Sheridan knows something, or at least guesses. We haven't been careful enough."

  "They will hunt until they are weary, and they will find nothin
g."

  "Nessa, I have to get rid of these." Tori gripped a small box of flash pins on her desk. "You know I do."

  "I don't like this," Nessa warned her.

  "Neither do I. I simply have no other choice. I have to make sure no one finds these or all our efforts will have been wasted." She hesitated, shuddering horribly. How strange that Morray was here now. Quentin Morray had helped shape her into all she believed in, all she despised. He'd been there that horrible day in the forest, and he'd killed at least one of the thieves. He'd taunted her father with the trial, almost forcing him to take the extreme measure of purification and banishment. She'd never forget the smug smile that curved Morray's lips when he sensed his victory.

  Perhaps she was risking too much. Their suspicions hung hot and heavy in the air surrounding them. She fought to recall every word of their conversation. Indeed, every other suggestive word pointed to her. Nothing subtle had passed between them.