Omega The Girl in the Box - By Robert J. Crane Page 0,76

they’ve probably got legit I.D. to go along with them. They’ve got people in the UK government getting them into the system the same way we have access to the U.S. systems, and because of it, they’re invisible to anyone who’s not looking specifically for them.”

“Which is pretty much us and no one else,” I said, feeling glum again.

“To work, J.J.,” Ariadne said with about as much enthusiasm as I had for it. “How long will this take?”

“Depends on how long he’s been in the country,” J.J. said. “If he’s entered in the last twenty-four hours, it’ll be fast. If he’s been in the country a week or less, I can have this done in a couple hours. Two weeks will take the rest of the day. Longer than a month...” He cringed. “Could be a while.”

Ariadne waved her hand. “Get to it.” She hesitated. “Can you set it to run and do your work from off-site?”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, nodding. “Our servers are pretty much set up for me to do just that, so I can push data wherever it needs to be. I usually use it to work late from the computer in my apartment. Why?”

“Because I want you to do this from the computer in your apartment,” Ariadne said, taking off her reading glasses. “Can you do that?”

“Yessum,” he said, mostly serious. “And you want me back here when?”

“I’ll let you know,” she said.

“Shore leave approved,” he whispered to me, then turned and vanished out the door. I watched him go and I didn’t feel bad about it at all. The campus was no place for humans right now. I felt the tension in my stomach pick up as I pondered that.

Ariadne leaned back in her chair, studiously ignoring Eve, and then looked back to me. “I’m glad you’re here. I had something to tell you, anyway.”

“Oh?” I said with exaggerated brightness. “You’re approving my vacation to Bora Bora, all expenses paid?”

“Hah,” she said with no mirth, head resting on the back of her chair as she tossed her glasses onto her desk. “I’d pay for your trip myself right now if I thought you’d go to Bora Bora. No, I wanted you to know I had Scott Byerly sent home.”

I felt a tingle of loss I couldn’t define. “Yeah, I know. I caught him on his way out.”

“Wait, you let the waterboy leave?” Eve looked down at her. “Why?”

“Dr. Perugini said he couldn’t form enough water pressure to wet an envelope,” Ariadne said. “He’s emotionally distressed and completely wrecked at present. Per her recommendation, he is to take two weeks of emotional leave.”

“For a breakup?” Eve said with obvious disdain. “If only my employers had been so generous with paid time off every time I had a difficult relationship.”

“If only,” Ariadne said. “He’ll be out until further notice. He’s back to his parents’ house in Minnetonka. And you,” she said, looking to Eve, “could show a little sensitivity to his plight.”

Eve snorted. “Teenage romance and heartbreak. He has the emotions of a baby. He doesn’t know heartbreak, and even if he did, a real man would continue to work, ignoring the pain. This is courting weakness, inviting it into your sitting room and giving it tea—”

“Noted,” Ariadne said, cutting Eve off. “But he still has the time off.”

“He’s useless to us right now,” I said. “Better to get him out of the way.”

Ariadne smiled weakly. “That was the idea.”

“This is all ridiculous,” Eve said, and Ariadne gave her the look again. Exhausted, mixed with exasperated. “I’m due to meet with Bastian and Parks anyway,” she said, and with a subtle bend she tried to kiss Ariadne on the lips. Ariadne turned her face to the side and gave her the cheek. Eve shot me a wicked smile and leaned into her neck, causing Ariadne to squirm and curse under her breath, and giggle unintentionally from the tickle of it. I averted my eyes, trying not to pass judgment on what Eve was obviously doing to get a rise out of me. She slid past me a moment later, same cool smile, and pulled the door all the way open before she left.

I waited a moment for Ariadne’s embarrassment to fade before I spoke. “Is it my imagination or is she getting more provocative by the day?”

Ariadne averted her eyes from me, focusing instead on her computer monitor. “It’s probably not your imagination.”

I let that hang for a beat. “She got a buzzsaw in her g-string or