"Whoa . . . man . . ."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," J.L. said excitedly, waving his hands. "It was freaky. So I asked Mom Delores if I could babysit Ayana for the day. I didn't want to say anything to anybody until I had hard evidence, ya know-in case I was just tripping. But I tested her on everything. I used old DVDs of her favorite cartoons and shows and Disney moviesbefore the Greek isle battle as a control group of items, and then I showed her direct broadcasts over cable, satellite TV, images off my cell phone, and songs on the radio versus off older CDs as my test group, feel me?"
"Yeah, I feel you," Carlos said, worry making him clench his jaw for a moment. "What happened in the test?"
"Every time out the kid had the same reaction. Whatever was being broadcasted made her sad or afraid. Then I asked her what she saw and how she felt, and the poor little thing would only shake her head and say it made her want to do bad things to people. The kid was so horrified she wouldn't spit it out . . . so maybe Inez is gonna have to go in, as her mom and also a seer, to lift it out of her head . . . maybe purge it and then translate what the kid witnessed for us."
"Okay, we're gonna have to have a full team meeting about this, you know that, right?"
"Yeah, Carlos, I know. Because think about it, man . . . if after Marlene sent up some serious prayers with the members of the Covenant so that the angels would do their thing to cloak Ayana's little mind from going into the more, uh, sensitive areas of house business," J.L. added with a wry smile. "I mean, even Heaven knows the kid doesn't need to accidentally see what happens between couples . . . TMI at her age."
"At any age," Carlos said, forcing a smile.
"True . . . and if they've kept her shielded from any war strategy we have in the Situation Room, so the kid can live with us, then if she's picking it up that strong through a shielded mind . . ."
"Whatever's jumping through the airwaves now has some serious kick to it."
"You tellingme?" J.L. shook his head and picked up a pair of tweezers. "The average human without any powers of sensitivity would be oblivious to the subliminal messages being broadcasted-but they'd feel the effect. They might even start to act out. It could be pure chaos . . . but I'm not a seer, just a tactical sensor, bro. So I didn't want to turn Krissy or any of the other seers onto her, because Ayana isn't our kid. Inez would have every right to be pissed off with us going that far with testing her daughter . . . I figured the exposure to TV and radio and whatnot was okay because that was already happening. But to send my wife into the little girl's head without her mother's consent might be crossing the line."
"So what you got, man?" Carlos said,nodding toward the silver item J.L. had lifted. "You didright, by the way . . . Inez might kick your ass."
J.L. nodded and laughed. "I might know karate but 'Nez knows kar-ray-zay."
Carlos pounded J.L.'s fist as they shared a private chuckle."Especially when it comes to her baby girl. Mike might kick your ass, too."
"That's why I didn't go there, but instead worked on a small distortion device," J.L. said proudly. "It basically sends the broadcasted signal through the silver first, before it hits the screen and/or the speakers. Went to my geek buddies over at the University of San Diego, where they have da bomb labs already set up for nanotechnologies and new computer technologies-and where they love to work on wild-ass conspiracy theories . . . all I had to do was give them the specs and some cash, and it was all good."
"You've got some mad skills, man," Carlos said, impressed, as he leaned in closer to inspect the tiny object J.L. held over the velvet. "How did the kid react?"
"Like a normal kid . . . laughing, smiling, and clapping at her favorite parts of whatever show was broadcasted. But get this . . . she also wasn't mesmerized."
Carlos straightened and stared at J.L. He'd seen little kids in his extended family and in the old neighborhood watch television before he'd left them for this life. They normally sat two feet away from the screen, eyes wide, practically unblinking, staring up into the light, jaws slack and in a daze.
"You know how dangerous this shit is, J.L.?"
"I know," J.L. said, gently setting down the miniscule filter again. "I've seen little kids watch TV, old people, too. How many people you know sit with the remote control in their grip, just staring, like they're in a spell or a trance?" He smoothed his hair back from his forehead. "And don't forget nursing homes, prisons, hospitals, captive audiences, the broadcast zone is limitless."
"Plus, how many people download music and walk the streets with earphones stuck in their ears, music blasting?" Carlos said, his mind envisioning the busy sidewalks of every urban environment he knew.
"Or have a cell phone glued to their ears?" J.L. said quietly.
Carlos looked at J.L. for a moment. "Or have the computer on surfing the Net, while talking on the telephone with the speakers on blasting music MP3 downloads while the TV is on in the background? Or cops, with loaded weapons in the streets, getting signals off their radios. . . . This shit could be epidemic."
"My point exactly," J.L. said, lifting his chin with dignity. "So I went around the house filtering everybody's equipment room by room, gadget by gadget for the last twenty-four hours. How do you feel?"
Carlos stopped and thought about it hard. "Way better, man. Like, I got my energy back or something."
J.L. simply looked at him. "Good, man, 'cause you did."
CHAPTER TWO
After an exhaustive search of the house he found Damali in the last place he'd expected-the kitchen. Carlos came to a silent halt and watched his wife for a few precious moments before she noticed him.
He let his eyes take in the graceful curve of her back, the way her shoulder blades added contour where wings could majestically emerge when she was provoked or impassioned. Gorgeous, cinnamon-brown skin kissed by early morning light seemed too soft to even make contact with her casual getup of white sweat shorts and a wife-beater T-shirt with no bra. Barefoot, hair swept up in a ponytail of soft brown dreadlocks, and a voluptuous figure that would soon be evidence of growing life . . . the sight of her stole his breath. And she was hungry; that was a blessing.
Since the last battle, her appetite had been off. Anything edible sent her into the bathroom to secretly hurl. Keeping her symptoms from the team had been difficult. Nausea had plagued the poor woman so badly that she was actually beginning to look gaunt. At least that's what he'd thought had been the culprit until his enlightening conversation with J.L.
Carlos remained in the archway of the kitchen entrance, watching his wife bend and survey the refrigerator shelves. The sight of her luscious backside tweaked his libido, making him remember how many weeks had gone by since they'd done more than cuddle. Sure, he could have just mentally scanned the compound to find her, but he'd needed to walk and think and process what he'd learned from his Guardian brother. He reminded himself of that fact as his gaze caressed the sleek backs of her thighs.