The Operator

Allen’s eyes flicked to Michael, then back to Bill. “Steiner is mopping up, bringing in drafters in hiding. Michael is their biggest annoyance right now.”

Bill rubbed his stubble to hide his smile as Michael’s expression darkened. “And in exchange for her help,” Bill guessed, “she gets lab access to reverse-engineer the Evocane that will make her their slave instead of my drafter?”

It had taken him five years to perfect Evocane. Denier picking it apart before Peri ran out was not going to happen. He had to convince her to come home. Five doses of Evocane would make it addictive enough that to go without might cause heart failure. But it was more than her risking death that bothered him. He’d promised her that he’d never let her need. He wanted her to come back because this was where she belonged, because of the thrill she got being who she was—not the need. Getting a larger stash of Evocane to her would prove his word was good and begin to rebuild her trust. She had trusted him once. She would again.

“She thinks she can bring me in?” Michael said, frowning when Bill chuckled.

“She doesn’t care, but the CIA does, and that’s who she’s playing for right now.” Bill inspected Allen’s phone and turned it on, sighing at the small icons he’d have to manage. “Peri is simply exploring the viability of a second source of Evocane.” He frowned at the password prompt. “That’s why she’s helping the government. We can make that work for us. If she wants you, let’s give her a shot at you. She’ll show, even knowing it’s a trap. Especially if Evocane and Allen are in the mix.”

Michael’s head was down, hiding his expression, but Bill could guess at it. Finding a stylus, Bill typed in 1997 for the password, which was denied. Not your birth year, then. “By tomorrow, we’ll know if she’s going to reject the Evocane, and if not, we move forward.”

“Rejection?” Jack said. “There was nothing about rejection in the lab reports.”

Bill tried again, this time using the last four digits of Allen’s Social Security number, failing. “They vary from individual to individual,” he said, trying a variant of Allen’s birthday using the month and day, getting nowhere. “We’ve been tweaking to minimize them. Why do you think I’m trying to get her back?”

Allen pulled his head up, a new worry giving him strength. “What kind of rejection?”

Not wanting the phone to lock up, Bill gave it a rest. “Sometimes a sound or light sensitivity develops,” he said, wanting Michael to have a doubt or two—seeing as the med wing full of comatose ex-Opti drafters wasn’t enough. “It manifests as an avoidance of crowds or a lowered sensation limit. If it is too extensive, the agent has limited use. Occasionally Evocane will cause an increase in aggression, either sexually, which can be addressed, or more typically, as a short temper and inability to trust, even people he or she has in the past.”

“Paranoia,” Jack said, frowning.

“Sometimes there’s an unusual salt craving,” Bill added.

“Salt?” Allen echoed, clearly surprised.

Bill nodded, satisfied at Michael’s attentive silence. “Upon occasion, Evocane causes an imbalance in the cellular ion exchange. They end up jerking uncontrollably, but we usually see the salt craving within the first few days. We can ask her the next time we see her.” He smiled, suddenly realizing what Allen’s password was, and punching in 2024, the year Allen and Peri had met. Sure enough, the phone lit up. “Why don’t we do that now? She’s probably in a van somewhere with nothing to do.”

“You son of a bitch,” Allen whispered, and Michael leaned closer, clearly trying to see the number. “She’s better than a damn guinea pig, and you know it.”

Of course he knew it. They all knew it. But Michael was getting too close to the truth for his liking. “Peri, Peri, Peri,” Bill said softly as he scrolled through Allen’s phone. “Ah, here she is. Let’s give her a ring,” he said, delighting when Allen’s expression went from anger to fear.

The line clicked open. “Allen?” came her voice, and Bill beamed.

“Hi, kiddo,” Bill said pleasantly as he put the phone on speaker. “No, don’t hang up. Allen is here. Allen, say something so Peri knows I’m being honest.”

Smiling, Bill held the phone to Allen, but he stayed predictably silent, eyes glaring past the swelling and bruises.

“Go on,” Bill encouraged, and Michael ominously slid a syringe off the tray.

“Trust Silas, Peri,” Allen rasped. “He won’t let you go insane.”

Peeved, Bill drew the phone away. “He won’t mean to, I’m sure,” he said to Peri. “But we all know Denier’s track record. He won’t make it in time, and it’s going to hurt if you go without. It’s more addictive than the high of running a task, and you’ve been fixed on that a long time. You don’t know how to go without.”

“If you hurt Allen—” came faintly, and Bill chuckled.

“You’ll what?” Bill said flatly, humor gone. “Hunt me to the ends of the earth? I’ve hurt him. I’m going to hurt him some more if the mood strikes me. But there’s an alternative. Are you alone? Are you listening?”

Allen’s breathing was harsh in the sudden silence, and then her hesitant “Yes.”

“Good,” Bill said dryly, watching Michael for his reaction. “I’m willing to give you a vial of Evocane for your continued health. I’ll even throw in Allen to prove my sincerity. You’re going to need the Evocane to have any chance of keeping WEFT in the dark about your new addiction.” He waited, letting that sink in. “I’ll send Michael with them if that will make you feel more comfortable. You can be wired. You can even bring someone. I don’t care. I simply want to impress you with the knowledge that your way home is already open.”