Crosstalk

  But if that was what he was doing, he’d have blocked Trent, not her. Maybe since she was talking to him, he’d had to block both of them. C.B., did you do that? she called.

  Nothing, and not only didn’t he respond, Yes, or, Doing what?, but his attention never wavered from Lyzandra’s face.

  He can’t hear me, she thought. And she couldn’t hear anything at all.

  Then Trent was back, saying accusingly, Why didn’t you answer me? I asked you whether you wanted me to focus on the wall, and you didn’t answer me. He stopped to swipe reflexively at his shirt front. And the bugs—

  Which meant she was the only one who’d been blocked. I’m sorry, Briddey said. Yes, focus on your wall and think, “It’s impregnable.” Say it over and over. And as soon as he’d started, she returned to pondering the shutdown. It must have been some reaction to the deluge. All those voices had been too much for her mind to process, and she’d done the neural equivalent of fainting or something.

  She wondered if she should tell C.B., but he already had enough to worry about. Plus, he’d said they didn’t have much time to get the others’ defenses up, and she hadn’t even started on Trent’s safe room.

  Trent was still repeating, It’s impregnable.

  All right, Briddey said. Now you’re going to build a safe room inside your perimeter, and explained what it had to be like, listening warily for another abrupt loss of sound, but it didn’t happen again.

  Which was good, because they didn’t need anything else to worry about. Neither Lyzandra’s collapse and Trent’s twitching nor C.B.’s dire warnings of how dangerous telepathy was had had any effect on Dr. Verrick. He was earnestly taking notes, and Briddey heard him think, If Lyzandra’s too traumatized to continue monitoring their tests, I’ll need to bring in Michael Jacobsen and the Dowds.

  Oh, no, Briddey thought. He’s got other telepaths. Which meant even if they could convince Trent and Lyzandra that telepathy was a terrible idea, Dr. Verrick would still have a way to continue doing research. She needed to tell C.B.

  I don’t understand what you mean by pleasant associations, Trent was saying.

  It needs to be somewhere you’d feel both safe and happy, Briddey said absently, like—

  An executive suite like Hamilton’s.

  Of course, Briddey thought. I might have known, and was glad C.B. was too busy with Lyzandra to be listening to this.

  Perfect, she told Trent. She set him to imagining the executive suite’s walls and furnishings and then said to C.B., I need to tell you something. Can you meet me in Santa Fe?

  You bet, he said, and, after telling Lyzandra to focus on her perimeter, came into the courtyard.

  But when Briddey told him, he already knew about the other telepaths. “They’re Verrick’s patients. I heard him thinking about them earlier. Michael Jacobsen was the first one to report hearing his fiancée’s voice after they had the EED. She couldn’t hear him, though, and both Dowds are only partially telepathic. He thought you were a more promising prospect.”

  “Because of my red hair.”

  “Yeah. Jacobsen’s a strawberry blond, and both Dowds have chestnut hair.”

  “At least he hasn’t tumbled to the Irish connection.”

  “No, but it’s just a matter of time before he does. Because red hair’s an inherited trait, he’s already leaning toward a genetic explanation, and the name Dowd’s Irish.”

  “But Schwartz isn’t, and Jacobsen’s Scandinavian. And Lyzandra’s last name is Walenski.”

  “Yeah, but we need to give him another reason quick—he’s already wondering why I don’t have red hair, and if Lyzandra recovers enough to answer questions, he’ll find out that her mother’s side of the family came from County Mayo.”

  “What kind of reason?” Briddey asked.

  “Preferably something that leads him away from inherited traits, like brain damage or drugs. Find out if Trent took that relaxant Verrick prescribed, and if he ever had a concussion—played soccer or wrapped his Porsche around a tree or something. I mean, it’s obvious from his treatment of you that he was dropped on his head as a baby, but see what else you can find out that we might use. Finish getting his safe room up first, though. I don’t know how much longer I can shield them from the brunt of the voices,” he said, and left before she could tell him about her fainting spell.

  She went back to helping Trent visualize his executive suite, which he’d apparently been coveting for months—or years. He knew exactly what he wanted in it, right down to the paintings on the walls. Hamilton has a Modigliani, but I’m thinking maybe an Andreas Gursky or an Orozco.

  Briddey wondered if Lyzandra’s safe room was as elaborate as Trent’s. No, listening to C.B. coaching her, she seemed to be more focused on making it as strong as possible. What if they break through the door? she was asking C.B. anxiously.

  They won’t, C.B. said. But you can add another lock, if that’ll make you feel safer.

  Can it be a deadbo—? she said, and her voice cut off.

  Lyzandra? C.B. said.

  “Where did you go?” Lyzandra said. “Why can’t I hear you?” and Briddey couldn’t hear her thoughts, only the words she spoke aloud. She could still hear C.B.’s thoughts, though.

  I’m right here, Lyzandra, he was saying. Don’t panic. The voices can’t get in.

  “I can’t hear you,” Lyzandra said, her voice rising.

  “What’s going on?” Dr. Verrick demanded. He stood up.

  Talk to me, Lyzandra, C.B. said. Tell me what’s happening.

  She stared at him with wide, frightened eyes.

  “Lyzandra.” He gave her a little shake. “Lyzandra.”

  “I can’t hear your voice,” she said. “Your mind-voice, I mean. I can still hear when you talk aloud.”

  C.B. frowned. “What about the other voices? Can you hear them?”

  “No.”

  Briddey, say something to her, C.B. said.

  Lyzandra, can you hear me? Briddey asked.

  “Did you hear that?” C.B. asked Lyzandra.

  “Hear what? I can’t—oh, now it’s back.”

  “I said, what is going on?” Dr. Verrick demanded, advancing on them.

  “Shh,” C.B. said. Lyzandra, tell me what happened.

  Everything suddenly went silent, like it did before, and I couldn’t hear you. I couldn’t hear anything.

  Did it fade out? Briddey asked. Or cut off suddenly?

  Suddenly. Like somebody flipped a switch.

  And it came back the same way?

  Lyzandra nodded, and C.B. asked, Briddey, why—?

  She looked at him, and this time he didn’t need to be told to meet her in the courtyard. He was instantly there, saying, “Why’d you ask her that?”

  “Because the same thing happened to me.”

  “When?”

  “Just a few minutes ago.”

  “Was it like when you started hearing Trent, and you could only hear him intermittently?”

  “No,” Briddey said. “This was much more abrupt, like someone hanging up a phone, and I couldn’t hear anything, including the voices beyond my perimeter. I don’t think Trent could hear me either. He asked where I’d gone.”

  “Lyzandra said the same thing to me,” C.B. mused, “and when she was talking just now, I couldn’t hear her underlying thoughts. When it happened to Lyzandra before, I thought it was because she was too hysterical to listen to me, but if you experienced the same thing…how long did it last?”

  “Maybe a minute. Do you know what’s causing it?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “Look, tell me if it happens to you again, okay?”

  “How? You won’t be able to hear me. I called to you last time, but I couldn’t receive or send.”

  “Okay, then tell me out loud. And get Trent’s safe room up as fast as you can. If this is some after-effect of the deluge, who knows what other ones there might be,” he said, and went immediately back to instructing Lyzandra.


  Briddey turned her attention to Trent. I need you to tell me exactly what your executive suite looks like, she said.

  I don’t have it done yet, Trent said. I’m trying to decide on what kind of desk I should have. Hamilton’s is mahogany, but I think teak gives a more professional—

  It doesn’t matter, Briddey said. What’s important is—

  But you said to visualize every detail. How can I do that if—? He cut out.

  Trent? Briddey said. “Trent?”

  “What?” he said aloud. “I thought you told me we had to talk mentally.”

  I did, Briddey said. Can you hear me?

  He didn’t answer her.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” she asked aloud. “When we were talking mentally?”

  “No,” he said, and she could see from Trent’s expression that he was saying something to her and waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

  C.B., she said, but he was already asking her, What’s going on? Is it happening to Trent now, too?

  I think it must be. His voice stopped in mid-word.

  “What’s happening?” Dr. Verrick asked.

  Neither Briddey nor C.B. paid any attention to him. Trent? C.B. asked, can you hear me?

  I’m the only one he can hear, Briddey reminded him.

  Then you call him, C.B. said, and watched Trent carefully as Briddey began repeating, Briddey to Trent, come in, Trent.

  He still didn’t answer, but a suspicious look came over his face. “If you’re doing this…,” he said to C.B.

  “Doing what?” C.B. said. “Tell us what’s happening.”

  “Is Mr. Worth having a disruption now?” Dr. Verrick asked.

  “Shh,” C.B. said. “Trent, can you hear Briddey’s voice?”

  “No,” Trent said, glaring at her accusingly. “I was asking her about the desk for my executive suite—”

  “Executive suite?” Dr. Verrick interrupted. “What are you talking about? Mr. Schwartz, you said—”

  “Shh,” C.B. said. “Then what happened, Trent?”

  “She broke in asking me out loud if I could hear her. And I said yes, but she didn’t hear me, and if she’s talking mentally to me, I can’t hear her either. I can’t hear anything.”

  “Including the voices?”

  “Yes, there’s no sound at all. One second I could hear”—Briddey suddenly heard him think—and then I couldn’t.

  I can hear him again, she told C.B.

  So can I, C.B. said. “Trent, can you hear Briddey?”

  “Yes.”

  “I demand to know what’s going on here,” Dr. Verrick said.

  “We don’t know,” C.B. said.

  Liar, Trent thought. Schwartz is probably the one behind this. How do we know building these so-called defenses didn’t cause…oh, no, they’re back! And he began brushing madly at his legs.

  Good, Briddey thought, the voices will keep him from telling Dr. Verrick that, and said, Trent, this is why you need your safe room. Forget about the paintings and finish visualizing your walls.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?” Dr. Verrick was asking.

  “We don’t know,” C.B. said. “We lost telepathic contact with Trent for a short time, but we got it back.”

  Which meant he wanted to downplay what had happened. And I should help, Briddey thought.

  “It’s not an uncommon occurrence,” she said. “Trent and I have experienced gaps in our communication before. The first few hours after we connected, we only caught occasional words and phrases, didn’t we, Trent?”

  “Yes, but—” Trent began.

  Briddey cut him off. “You said stress could interfere with connecting,” she told Dr. Verrick, “and Trent and Lyzandra have just undergone a tremendously stressful experience.” And stress can also cause the voices to break through again, she told Trent, so you need to get a lock on your safe-room door now.

  I will, Trent said, and hastily began envisioning a deadbolt while Briddey retreated to the courtyard to consider what Trent had said about C.B.’s being behind this.

  Was he? The blackout had felt like someone had put a soundproof barrier between her and the voices—like her perimeter, only much more effective—but C.B. had said he didn’t have the strength to block the voices, and he hadn’t been lying about how exhausted he was. Looking at him now, coaching Lyzandra, she could see the lines of weariness in his face and the shadows under his eyes. There was no faking those.

  She believed what he’d said about not being able to block the voices completely for more than a few minutes, but that was all this was. He could have done it. Only what good would blocking them for a few moments do? It would hardly convince Dr. Verrick that the telepathy had stopped working. And if C.B. was behind the disruptions, he wouldn’t have downplayed them.

  Unless he’s trying to make them think he had nothing to do with them, that they’re a natural occurrence, so he can pretend to be blanked out when Dr. Verrick wants to do a scan. That would explain why she’d been blanked out, too. He’d had to block her once to make it look like the disruptions were affecting all of them. It also explained why he’d agreed so readily to the scans. He’d never intended to undergo them.

  How are you coming with Trent’s safe room? C.B. asked. Can it stand up to the voices yet?

  I think so.

  Good, he replied, because I can’t—

  His voice cut off, slicing through the “t” in “can’t,” and Briddey thought, He’s blocking me again. But why? He only needed to block her once to convince the others.

  So what do I do now that I’ve got this executive suite? she heard Trent say.

  Meaning I’m not the one who’s blocked, Briddey thought, glancing over at C.B.

  His head was raised in a listening attitude, and the look on his face was one of shocked bewilderment. C.B., she called to him. What’s wrong? but he didn’t answer.

  Because he’s the one who’s blanked out. That’s why I couldn’t hear him, because his voice couldn’t get through to me. Or at least that was what he wanted them to believe. Nobody would suspect him of causing the disruptions if he was a victim of them, too.

  But if he was faking it, why didn’t he say aloud, “I just got cut off,” and tell Dr. Verrick he thought something was happening to the telepathy, that it seemed to be disappearing? He didn’t say anything. He just stood there, looking stunned.

  He isn’t faking this, she thought. And a minute later, when it ended and he said, Briddey, I think the thing that happened to you just happened to me, too, and she asked him what was causing it, and he said, I have no idea, she believed him.

  When yours started, he asked, did it—?

  She was abruptly surrounded by silence. Did he get blanked out again? she wondered, but it was obvious this time she was the one being blanked out. She couldn’t hear Trent either—or the voices.

  C.B.? she called, even though it was clear she couldn’t send messages in this state, and then said aloud, “It just happened to me again.”

  “It did?” C.B. said, and there was no way he could be faking the confusion and anxiety in his voice or on his face.

  He isn’t causing it, she thought. I’m convinced of that. But then what was? Or who?

  Maeve, she thought, and was glad she was blanked out so neither Trent nor Lyzandra could hear that. Maeve’s doing it.

  Maeve had promised she’d stay in her castle. She’d also been certain her defenses could protect her. And a mere promise wouldn’t stop her. She’d promised her mother she wouldn’t do any number of things and then promptly gone and done them.

  I need to talk to her, Briddey thought. But she couldn’t while she was blanked out, and when the disruption ended, Trent and Lyzandra would be able to hear her. And her top priority had to be keeping Maeve off their radar.

  I’ll have to wait till they’re blanked out at the same time, she thought. If that happens. So far the disruptions had only lasted a minute or two, though this one seemed to be
going a little longer.

  Perhaps if they get longer, they’ll start to overlap, and I’ll be able to— she thought, and could abruptly hear again.

  Lyzandra was telling C.B., I don’t think my door’s strong enough to hold them, so she obviously wasn’t blanked out.

  Trent? Briddey called.

  He’s incommunicado, C.B. said. I take it you were, too?

  Till just now. Were we out at the same time?

  I’m not sure. I think they’re getting longer.

  I need a stronger lock, Lyzandra said. And not just a deadbolt. I need—“It just happened again!”

  “It’s happening to me, too,” Trent put in.

  “What—?” Dr. Verrick said, advancing on C.B.

  I should stay and help him, Briddey thought, but this was more important. And it might be her only chance to talk to Maeve while no one was listening. She dived for her courtyard, shut herself in, and called to Maeve, I want to talk to you right now.

  No answer.

  Of course not, Briddey thought. Because she knows what I’m going to ask her. Cindy! she called again. Rapunzel! Maeve! Answer me this instant!

  Still no answer, and Briddey was rapidly running out of time. Lyzandra or Trent could come out of the disruption any second, or C.B. would notice she’d gone into her safe room and—

  I can’t believe you guys did that! Maeve said. I stayed in my castle just like C.B. told me to, and I didn’t talk to anybody. So how come you blocked me like that?

  “This time it vanished quite slowly, beginning with the end of the tail.”

  —LEWIS CARROLL, Alice in Wonderland

  Shh, Maeve, Briddey said automatically, looking at Lyzandra and Trent and Dr. Verrick. Not so loud. They’ll hear you.

  No, they won’t, Maeve said. I’ve got like fifteen firewalls and encryption walls up around me. You didn’t have to block me, too! I can’t believe you did that!

  Tell me exactly what happened.

  Oh, like you don’t know!

  I don’t, Briddey said. I swear. Tell me.

  I was listening to C.B.—he didn’t say I couldn’t listen, just that I couldn’t talk—and all of a sudden I couldn’t hear anything. It was like when your laptop crashes and the screen goes blue, you know? I couldn’t hear anything, not even the zombies.