Page 84 of CHOICE Lover
Her head might actually explode. “All the more reason to meet these IdenTECH people and get me an identity.” Louder, so the fight scene is believable, she says, “And just when I thought things were going well.”
“We don’t know them. It could be a setup by NHOS searching for thesereincarnates. It’s too risky.” He takes her elbow, leading her out ofthe restaurant.
As they march down the hallway, something nauseating occurs to her. “This is about your company again, isn’t it? Not me, an actual human being. I don’t know why I thought you might understand. You’re unbelievable. It’s easier for you to keep me under your thumb where you can control me and make sure I don’t upset your perfect world. So fucking typical. Take me home. I’ll figure it out on my own.” She jerks her elbow out of his grasp, cringing at the wordhome.
His arm wraps around her waist without another word. When they finally get back in the elevator that leads to the penthouses, he leans in, grumbling, “You are being impossible. If you recall, I chose you over my company when you had a sparkler aimed at your head. Then I got rid of Chryl, again choosing you.”
Her throat tightens at the chastisement. “I—”
“I’m not done,” he growls, releasing her waist to punch the elevator button, which redirects them to the private SAT garages. “Inspector Wanda informed me that NHOS knows about GROW’s mishaps. Apparently, there was a manhunt a few weeks ago that made the news. Since then, they learned about and caught several more.” Her hand drifts to her gaping mouth. “Do you know what they’re doing with them?” She shakes her head. “They’re keeping them in holding cells as if they’re manupartners.” His eyes go distant, like when he’s using his m-volt. “Come on.” He takes her hand, leading her from the elevator to his private SAT.
Between his irritation and his determined strides, resisting seems pointless. “Where are we going?”
He blows past the attendant and opens his private SAT’s door. “Get in. I was going to drop you off at the unit before my next meeting, but since you refuse to listen to reason, change of plans.”
That doesn’t sound ominous at all. She slides in, noting the sleek silver case in the backseat. He marches around, droppinginto the seat next to her. “You’re not reconsidering recycling me, are you?” she asks, halfheartedly joking.
His eyes roll—an apparently universal gesture. “I agreed to help Inspector Wanda evaluate these mishaps she’s caught. Since you refuse to hear reason, you’re going with me.”
Electra plasters on what must be a manic, fake smile if the wary glances from the eight reincarnates in the spacious, sterile room are any sign. She wants to shout, “It’s okay. I’m one of you!” But the dismal holding center is enough to give her pause.
Res6 stands beside her carrying the silver case, which, it’s strangely comforting to know, has something to do with Camp Reincarnate and not with whatever secret project he’s working on behind locked doors. His irritated expression has bled away. He now wears an appropriately concerned grimace.
Inspector Wanda swipes at her tablet. “When your name is called, please come forward.”
Only a few people acknowledge her. A man sitting in a metal folding chair in the center of the room glares at them as he gets up and turns the chair to face away. His glare makes Electra feel unwelcome, like an intruder seeing something they shouldn’t. Another person, a woman sitting in a cross-legged meditative pose, blinks her eyes open to gaze in their direction before taking a long inhale and closing her eyes again. Three people sit in a corner talking quietly. There is a couple huddled together, dozing against the far wall. The last person is a woman lying facing the wall, trembling. Is she sick? As a manupartner, could she ask? Will Res6? He’s similarly scanning the space.
“Marshal Withers!” Wanda booms.
Several reincarnates jolt at her loud voice. The man who turned his chair shakes his head but gets up. His defeated, sagging posture suggests he’s resigned to whatever Wanda’s about to do to him.
Electra represses a shiver. What has he been through? She isn’t sure she wants to know, but her urge to help them is firing. But she’s powerless to do anything except get herself caught. Then she’ll be forced to join them.
She watches in horror as the reality of their circumstances hits her. That’s the impression Res6 was hoping to make. Well, his plan is backfiring because this is even more proof that she needs an ID. She can’t end up like these people—in a barren holding chamber awaiting some government agency’s decision about what to do with her. How long have these people even been here? She glances at the shivering woman, and her stomach tightens.
As Marshal approaches Wanda, his gaze snags on Electra’s for an extended pause.Look away, she wills him, hoping he can read her mind. Finally, his gaze slides to Wanda.
“Hello, Marshal. This is Res6 and his manupartner.” Wanda says, not bothering to mention her name. “He’s going to do a few quick scans.”
Marshal shakes his head. “How many more scans do we need? I’ve told you and every so-called expert you’ve brought in here the same story.” He turns to Res6. In an annoyed monotone, he says, “My name is Marshal Withers. I’m a twenty-eight-year-old mechanic from Idaho. The last thing I remember is fishing at my buddy John’s pond outside of Fort Hall. It had just started to rain—rain always makes for amazing fishing. Keith, my other buddy, who’s an amateur weatherman, said it was only supposed to be a light drizzle. That thunderclap came out of nowhere. I remember nothing after that. See. Same story.”
“Of course,” she says, blatantly blowing him off. “Just one more for good measure. Res6 is the owner of a company like the one who created you. That means he has special insight into your nature andcan help us understand what is wrong with you. Our goal is to prevent it from happening again in the future.”
“I don’t need no more scans. What I need is to go home. My wife’s gonna be pissed as hell that I’ve been gone this long, and she’s never gonna believe I got picked up by aliens.” Several of the other reincarnates glance in his direction. “She’s probably havin’ the lawyers draw up divorce papers as we speak.”
Oh my God, Marshal thinks these strange future people are aliens. It’s a fair guess.
“That’s all very good, Marshal. I’d like you to tell Res6 what year you think it is now,” Wanda says.
Marshal covers his eyes. “Not this again.”
“Marshal,” she scolds.
“It’s 2016.”
Electra gasps. He’s from her time. She has a million questions, but she can’t voice a single one.
Wanda turns to Res6. “I’m sure you understand the ramifications if NHOS determines the risk is too high.”
