The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Transitions 1

Paul woke early. He rolled out of bed, dressed quickly, and headed down to the lab. His mind was full of ideas on redoing the chair. He should be able to host everything in a single digital signal processor.

In the lab, he brought up a display and set the office systems to alert him when anyone came in. He returned to his design work.

Paul glanced up from his work in response to an alert sounding. He nodded; Carol was pulling into the parking area.

After a sequence of alerts telling him of her movement through the building, Paul reached over and told the system to alert him when she got in the chair. He smiled, betting silently to himself she’d be in the chair within twenty minutes.

Carol wiped the tears from her eyes as she sat the last box down in her new office. She wasn’t sure how she was going to make it, but she knew she would—Paul was her future, she knew that.

She’d gotten home Friday night after working late with the patent attorney. When she arrived, her roomie Patty was frantically packing stuff into boxes, bags, and suitcases.

And in spite of the talking, the begging, the hugging, the crying, Patty had taken off first thing in the morning, all her possessions loaded into her Volvo wagon. She was driving back to Carbondale to live with friends and return to grad school in the fall.

Carol had tried—but she knew her future was with Paul, even though she wasn’t sure how she was going to do it. A while after Patty left, Carol found the envelope she’d left with money for the next month’s rent. Carol figured she could make the next two, maybe three months on her own, but after that...

She put things away in her new office. It was quite nice, with more room than she’d had before. She put some of the clothes she’d brought in into file drawers, hanging the rest on the back of the door—she had an office with a door again, not a cubicle!

Carol laughed at herself as she moved things from one place in the office to another. Her car was safely parked in the garage downstairs, her things were unpacked... She knew she was stalling. She knew what she wanted to do, needed to do. She grabbed her little key case with her cardkey and headed down the hall, stopping at the restroom before heading to the chair.

The chair—she knew it would help. She felt so tight, so wound up. Last night in bed, she imagined that magic chime sounding, melting her body and soul. She’d cried herself to sleep.

She slipped off her running shoes. She was wearing sweats today, and didn’t care how hot she got. She felt her pulse race in anticipation as she waved the card key over the chair console’s reader.

Her heart caught in her throat when nothing happened. She moved it over the reader again, closer and slower, her hand shaking. Her breath escaped with an audible sigh as the light turned green and the reader chirped. She slipped her key case back into her pants pocket, and got into the chair.

She relaxed a little as she fastened the headband, yet she knew she was keyed up. Oh, how she needed it now, needed to unwind... She slipped her fingers into the sensors and sighed, closing her eyes. The surf started and she took a long, deep breath, waiting for that chime. It sounded and she exhaled, releasing her breath, her tension, letting the sound carry her away.

Paul decided to use the evaluation board provided by a DSP vendor; it provided the basic support circuitry and greatly simplified his efforts. He could even build his software into the framework they provided.

He looked up when another alert sounded. He raised an eyebrow; it had taken Carol almost forty minutes to get into the chair. He set another alert for when she got out, then brought up the rec room camera and set up the audio cues he’d play through the speakers in the rec room ceiling.

When Carol woke again, she felt much better. The chair was rocking her slightly still. She felt so safe, so secure. She felt rested and full of energy.

As she got out of the chair, she didn’t feel as agitated as she had the day before. She had that full-of-energy feeling, but not the hunger. She felt quite good. Her future was here, with Paul.

Paul put down his pencil as the alert sounded, letting him know Carol was getting out of the chair. He moved his hand to the mouse, positioning the cursor over a button on the screen. He watched her get out of the chair and stretch, then clicked the mouse to play her arousal stimulus through the rec room speakers. He smiled as he watched, clicking the mouse again.

Carol moved over to the futon, letting herself fall back on it. She closed her eyes, remembering the surf sounds, the sensation of rocking. One hand found its way into her sweat pants, the other found its way up her sweat shirt, loosening her bra. Soon she was crying out, eyes closed and head arched back, floating again.

When she opened her eyes and sat up, she noticed there wasn’t a clock in the room. She shook her head and got up. The chair had powered itself down. She spent a few minutes looking at the cables coming out of it, and the rack of equipment supporting it. A lot of the equipment was for motion control, rocking and positioning, she guessed—the computer part looked to be about five years old. Well, she thought, we should be able to improve things quite a bit.

As she stepped into the hallway, she patted her pocket, being sure she had her card key. That would be very bad form, she thought, to lose that, or lock it in the rec room. She really didn’t want to disappoint Paul. The clock on the wall by the reception area told her she’d been in the rec room about two hours. How long in the chair, and how long on the futon, she had no idea. It didn’t matter, and that was the great thing.

She got a change of clothes, showered, moved some files onto her iBook, and headed out for the day—time for a late lunch or early dinner, and do some more writing.

Becky opened the office door, stepping inside with a sigh. She was back. Her future was here, with Paul. She, and her aunt and uncle, had gotten back from the airport only an hour or so earlier. As they unpacked, she told them she needed to check on the office—she was worried about Paul being alone for a week, and what trouble he could cause.

But things didn’t look so bad. The mail was more-or-less sorted into stacks. She redid those and took care of some things. As she reached for the power button on her computer, she paused, looked down the hall, and sighed. E-mail and schedules could wait.

The chair—she needed the chair. She missed the chair. Especially after that miserable cross-country flight, after her dad’s funeral, after all of it, she needed the chair.

She went to the rec room and waved her card key at the chair console. It gave her a beep and a green light. She slipped off her shoes, and then with a grin stripped down to her panties and bra, and made herself comfortable in the chair.

Had it only been a week she’d been gone? It felt like it had been so much longer. Oh, it felt so good to be back. She deliberately held the fingers of her left hand out of the sensors for a moment, feeling the chair supporting her body.

Then with a sigh, she closed her eyes and jammed her fingers into the sensors. She almost moaned as the chair started reclining back. She let go, relaxing and waiting for the chime...

Paul cleaned up after his lunch, putting the two bottles of Sake, gifts from the Sony people, in his kitchen cupboard. The Giants baseball game last night with them had been good—an opportunity to develop important contacts. At least the Japanese part of the company was going to license his technology. He anticipated a trip to Japan in five or six weeks. He felt the rumbling in his loins; Carol should be quite well trained by then. That was a big challenge with her program, another difference between her and Becky and Gina—he couldn’t do anything to dull her intellect, her creativity. Hmmm... If anything, he needed to bring those qualities out, make them more accessible.

As he was practicing the piano a while later, the annunciators let him know Becky had entered the building. He paused momentarily, then returned to Mendelssohn’s Rondo Capriccioso.

Another annunciator sounded later, informing him she’d activated the chair. He glanced at the clock—he could practice another forty-five minutes before heading downstairs.

As his practice time drew to a close, Paul got up from the piano, straightening out his music. He visited his bathroom, washed his hands and face, and ran the shaver over his face. He headed downstairs after putting on some after-shave.

In the rec room, he could smell her. He brought up the chair displays—she had six minutes to go. He smiled—she’d had a very, very good ride. This should be quite good.

He pulled out the futon, took off his clothes, and sat down to wait.

Becky opened her eyes and laughed softly. She was home. She felt great. She left her hands where they were—she knew the chair would rock her for another few minutes, so she closed her eyes. She wiggled her bottom a bit, feeling the dampness. She’d have to change the cover on the cushion soon. Oh, but that had been good! It was so good to be back where she belonged!

The lights were off in the room as she got out of the chair. She turned in the early afternoon light.

She saw her Paul sitting naked on the futon. She whimpered, undoing her bra and letting it fall to the floor. She slipped off her panties as she walked dreamily over to the futon, pushing him to his back, sliding her body over his, closing her eyes and taking in the sensation, his scent.

Paul smiled at the noise she made, relaxing back as she adored him. Gradually he rolled her to her back and plunged into her.

The effect on her was immediate and intense. Her head arched back and she started to moan and quiver as he slid in and out of her, taking his pleasure.

He looked down on her with an animal grin, watching and feeling her body under his. He felt orgasm approaching, and gripped her shoulders tightly.

She moaned and thrashed as he pumped into her, and then with a guttural noise and a twitching shudder, she went limp.

Paul moved his hips slowly, savoring the sensation. He squeezed one of her breasts, causing her to moan and her head to move slightly. He lifted one of her eyelids, and watched her eye move jerkily for a few seconds, then roll up.

He thrust his hips into her again, moving and savoring. It was good to have her back.

An interesting side effect, he thought as he got up. She’d had mild seizures as the result of an early experiment with the chair years ago. The effects only seemed noticeable during sex right after she got out of the chair. More to think about... He picked up his clothes and left the room.

Becky found herself in the shower. She held the handrail for a moment, feeling a little light headed. She stuck her face into the spray. It was great to be back!

New Development

Paul wore a dark suit to the memorial service for Miss MacDonald. He met the grieving parents and a sister. He nodded to Detective Hastings, but didn’t see Ross. Most of the partners from the law firm were in attendance, along with attorneys and support staff. Paul sat next to Weiss, the partner he usually worked with. The service got underway.

An interminable time later, Paul filed out slowly with the others, milling around as was called for socially, exchanging appropriate phrases.

“Mister Walters,” said one of the other senior attorneys, “Would you be able to join us for lunch?”

Paul noticed Detective Hastings within earshot. “Yes, thank you,” he said, walking off with the attorneys.

Paul sat at a table with three senior members of the law firm. Weiss turned to him and asked, “How is our Mr. Marsh doing for you?”

Paul considered, sipping his iced tea. “He seems eager enough, and competent...”

“But...” one of the other partners said.

Paul smiled and nodded. “Yes... Let me put it this way... If you had to spend an afternoon working with someone, would you rather spend it with Mr. Marsh, or someone else, such as, say, Miss Cathcart?” Paul had been close to getting her into his chair when she resigned from the firm and went to work for the District Attorney’s office. She had been quite attractive.

One of the other partners nodded and smiled. “Indeed...”

Weiss asked, “Do you have a suggestion, Paul?”

Paul sat back a bit. “Yes, I do. When I look at my business, and where I expect to be in two years, I can justify a full-time attorney in-house. I want to pick someone from your staff, a second-year associate say, and funnel all my work through her. She won’t be capable of handling it all, especially at the start, and especially in specialty areas. I expect her to work with others in your firm. But she would be my primary contact. In a year and a half to two years, when I’m ready to bring her on board, she would have developed the requisite skills.”

The other men at the table nodded. One of them raised an eyebrow. Weiss looked to him and asked, “Carl, you have a suggestion?”

Carl said, “Miss Pomeroy, Laura Pomeroy.”

One of the other men nodded and added, “I have to agree. She’s top notch, but the, ah, political reality is that she’ll never make partner at our firm. I think this would be a superb opportunity for us all.”

The others murmured their agreement.

Weiss said, “We can go back to the office and you can meet her this afternoon. We can start her on your work, and if she performs acceptably over the next few weeks, your decision of course, we can approach her with the arrangement. Satisfactory?”

Paul nodded. “Quite.”

Paul got out of his elevator and walked to the office door a little before two. Miss Pomeroy was quite a catch—a dark-skinned beauty. She seemed quite eager, quite eager indeed.

He chuckled to himself; “political reality” indeed—those bastards wouldn’t allow a black woman to make partner at their firm. But he knew how to make use of her talents—all of them.

Becky was at her desk when he walked in. It was good to have her back.

“Good afternoon, Mister Walters,” she said with a smile.

Paul nodded, stepping to her desk. She hadn’t called him “Master,” which meant someone else was in the office—probably Carol.

“It’s good to have you back, Becky. Anything for me?”

She handed him a few message slips. “Nothing urgent. The Texas Instruments people called to reconfirm their presentation here tomorrow afternoon.”

Paul looked at the slips. “Good.” He looked at Betty again. Miss Pomeroy and her well endowed bustline were affecting him. “I may need you later on, Becky. Will you be ready for me?”

Becky’s face smoothed. She sighed and smiled. “Oh yes, I’ll be ready,” she whispered.

Paul nodded, noting the blush spreading up her neck. Her conditioning was very much intact.

“Very well. Back to work!”

Becky blinked, looking alert again.

Paul smiled and went back to his office.

Becky blinked, feeling a little flushed, as she watched Paul walk away from her desk. It was so good to be back.

Carol’s office door was open. Paul stepped in. She was wearing headphones, typing and concentrating on her computer. She looked up, smiled, and took off her headphones.

“Hello!” she said with a smile.

Paul nodded. “Have a few minutes?”

Carol nodded. “Of course!” She stood, and followed Paul next door to his office.

Paul ushered her in, closing the door behind her, then sitting behind his desk.

“I take it you’ve met Becky,” he said as he brought up his computer.

Carol smiled and sighed. “Oh yes—she’s such a help. It’s almost like having an older sister working here. She showed me around, helped me move clothes into a closet. She also told me you live upstairs here.”

Paul brought up one of his sound control panels as he nodded. “Yes, I do,” he said as he positioned the mouse. He looked up at Carol as he clicked the mouse.

A chime sounded softly in the room. Carol’s face went blank and her eyes drifted closed as she fell into trance.

“Carol, do you like Becky?” he asked.

“Oh yes, Master,” Carol replied.

Paul’s smile broadened. Her conditioning was going quite well.

“Good. It’s important to me that you get along. Will you do that for me?”

Carol sighed, “Oh yes, Master!”

“Drift deeper for me now,” Paul said, clicking the mouse button once more.

He connected to the file server and moved files to a new project folder, giving Carol access.

“Carol, I have a project I want you to work on for me. You’re going to move some code to a new DSP for me. It’s an important project, and a very confidential project. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” she said softly.

Paul nodded, sending an e-mail to her computer pointing to the project folder.

“If you think of better ways to do things, or don’t understand some things, you should ask me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

Paul smiled. He closed one window and went back to the sound control window.

“Good, Carol. That makes me very happy.”

She moaned slightly, her head going back, leaning against the chair’s headrest.

He clicked the mouse. As another chime sounded in the room, he said, “Come for me, Carol.”

Paul watched with satisfaction as Carol moaned and writhed in the chair.

Carol blinked, looking around. Had she spaced out or something? She looked at Paul, who was smiling at her. His smile sent warm feelings through her. She shook her head slowly, sighing.

“Any questions?” he asked.

Carol said, “I’m so lucky. Can’t think of any right now.”

She stood up and let herself out of Paul’s office. She started walking to hers, but decided to go to the ladies’ room first—some times being in the same room with him made her wet.

Paul handled some business matters, but his mind kept drifting. He sighed and picked up the phone, pressing the button for Becky.

“I need you,” he said into the phone, then hung up.

Becky stepped into his office a few minutes later, closing the door behind her.

“You wanted to see me?” she said.

Paul nodded, waving to a chair. “Yes, have a seat.”

As Becky sat down, Paul asked, “What do you think of Carol?”

Becky smiled, adjusting her skirt. “She’s so smart! But it’s also like having a little sister again, with so many things to show her.”

Paul nodded. “You’ll take good care of her, then?”

Becky said, “Oh yes, I’m taking very good care of her.”

“That makes me very happy, Becky,” Paul said with a smile bordering on a leer.

Becky sighed, almost moaned as the phrase sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

Paul reached over to the mouse and clicked it. A chime sounded in the room.

“I need you, Becky,” he said.

Becky moaned and stood up, her eyes glassy, her face relaxing into a blissful smile.

As Paul stood and dropped his pants, Becky stepped around to his side of the desk. She pulled up her long skirt and bent over, putting her elbows on the desk. She’d taken off her panties already, in response to his earlier commands.

Paul stepped up to her, running his hands over her broad behind, sliding them up her back and down her sides to cup her breasts. She moaned as he squeezed her, and that put more fire into him.

He slid into her easily; she was already wet. Becky moaned as he slid in and out of her, holding on to her small breasts. After a while, he closed his eyes; his mind filled with images of breasts, Carol’s in the shower the other day, Laura Pomeroy’s bouncing as she laughed. With the image of those breasts and her full lips filling his mind, Paul thrust in strongly, coming with a sudden intensity.

Paul held on, his knees wobbling. He collapsed forward onto Becky, feeling her breathing rapidly underneath him. For a moment, he imagined Carol, or Laura on top of him, holding him to a full, warm breast, holding him ... he breathed in sharply and straightened up, sudden feelings of aversion filling him, aversion to being held close.

He felt himself slipping, and pushed against Becky.

“Clean us up, Becky,” he said.

Becky raised her head a little, and reached for the box of tissues on her Master’s desk. Placing a couple between her legs, they pulled apart. She cleaned up her Master and pulled up his shorts and pants, helping him sit down.

Becky smiled and sighed as she sat at her desk, seeing Paul walk to the Men’s room. It was so good to be back where she belonged.

“Good! I’m glad I caught you! Do you have time for some questions?” Carol asked, catching Paul in the lab later in the afternoon.

Paul looked up from the cable assembly he’d just completed.

“Oh, is this the demo board?” Carol asked, stepping over to him.

“Yes, it is. I just finished the third of five interface cables,” he said in a somewhat irritated voice.

Carol nodded, smiling. “I’ll probably have some code for you tomorrow night or Wednesday.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “So soon?”

Carol pulled up a chair. “Moving those sections was easy, even with the compiler we’ve got. I’d guess the new DSP gives us a factor of 40 performance increase, at least, without any tweaks to the code.”

Paul nodded, reconsidering. “That sounds good. What don’t you understand?”

Carol spread out some papers on the workbench. “I’m not sure what’s going on here,” she said, tapping on a section of code. “You’re looking at sensor inputs, tweaking positioners until you see a specific waveform, then triggering pulse generators. What’s going on? I need a bigger picture—it feels like it can be done differently.”

Paul nodded. He started explaining the code, in a somewhat oblique manner.

Over the next half hour, he went into greater detail, surprised and impressed with Carol’s ability to take it all in.

At one point he went to a cabinet and took out one of his prized tools, the field sensor he’d used in developing the coil systems used in the chair.

He held it in one hand, a sphere about half an inch in diameter on the end of a ten inch or so rod, the other end of the rod going into a small metal box a couple of inches on a side, with a switch and three light emitting diodes.

“The probe end,” Paul said, “has both sense and generating coils. The generating coils, driven by the drivers in the controller, produce the same waveform we’re looking for. It also has two sets of sense coils—one covering a small target area, the other with broader coverage. The trick is to only stimulate the inner coils, not the broad ones.”

Carol smiled and nodded. “Okay, I think I’ve got it. First step, though, is to just move things as-is. Once we have something working, then we can optimize it.”

Paul raised an eyebrow. “But you’ve got ideas on how to improve things?”

Carol nodded again. “Oh, yeah—but it’s always better to get something working before you work on making it better.”

Paul was impressed. “Very true—one step at a time, and replicating functionality is the first step. It should take me about half an hour to complete the rest of the cables.”

“Okay—I’ll get back to work on the code.”

They ran the new board and code in a simulator Wednesday morning. After identifying one timing glitch, the new board performed flawlessly.

Paul looked at the simulator display. “Very impressive, Carol—how much of the CPU are we using?”

Carol looked over at a monitor screen. “About eight percent, which gives us plenty of cycles for the rest of the code I did.”

“And what does that code do?” Paul asked.

Carol smiled. “I need to work with actual parts. When are they supposed to get here?”

“I think I’ve got a FedEx tracking number downstairs.” He looked to a clock. “It’s about lunch time anyway. Shall we go downstairs and see what Becky has arranged for us?”

Carol shut down the simulator. She carefully touched the heat sink on the DSP. “Not even warm. Let’s go.”

As they walked to the lab door, Carol took Paul’s arm in hers. “This is so much fun!” she said.

Paul wasn’t sure what he felt—her contact raised conflicting feelings. Still, it would only be a day or so. “Happy to be here?” he asked as they went down the stairs.

Carol paused on the stairs, looking Paul in the eyes. She sighed, “My future is here, with you.” She closed her eyes slightly and moved a little closer to him.

And was surprised and disappointed when he pulled away and continued down the stairs.

Her spirits improved later that afternoon when they went back up to the lab with a package containing a pair of the new transducers. Still, she had the feeling Paul was distant.

Paul got up early Thursday morning. With a smile, he checked the office systems to see how late Carol had been up. He’d worked with her in the lab until about nine the night before, hooking up the new transducers and checking out basic operation. They were breathtaking in comparison to the old ones—so much smaller, more efficient, and more powerful.

He chuckled a little. The lights in the lab hadn’t gone off until almost three in the morning. On a hunch, he brought up the rec room camera. Carol was on the futon asleep. Hmmm—Becky was in the chair. He knew Becky had been coming in early, going right to the chair. Carol came in a while later, using the chair. Both women were at their desks by the time he came down to the office around a quarter to nine. He chuckled again—it made for an efficient office.

He left that camera up on his display as he puttered; Becky was almost at the end of her session. He watched as Becky got out of the chair and stretched. He smiled as he watched her help Carol into the chair. His programming of the two women to treat each other as sisters was working out quite well.

Becky got out of the chair. Poor Carol—Becky found her naked and asleep on the futon, the comforter wrapped all around her, when she came in. She helped the poor dear to the chair, waving Carol’s card key over the chair’s reader. Once things started up, Becky got her things and went off to shower. Checking the chair’s timer, she had half an hour.

Carol woke partially to Becky helping her get into the chair. She’d slept fitfully on the futon, design details still running through her mind. She settled in, moaning as the chair started rocking her gently. She moaned in anticipation, waiting for the chime, waiting for it to take her away.

Becky reentered the rec room a couple of minutes before Carol’s session completed. She sat on the edge of the futon and waited.

Upstairs eating breakfast, Paul put down his spoon and stared at the monitor in front of him. What the hell was going on? It took him a moment to figure out why the way Becky was sitting on the futon looked so familiar. Then it hit him—that’s how he sat on the futon when he was waiting for her.

As the footrest pulled back and the chair righted itself, Becky stood and stepped closer to the chair.

Carol moved her feet and hands, stretching as the chair helped her sit up. She felt so invigorated, so alive.

Paul reached over the monitor and turned up the sound all the way. He stopped chewing, watching and listening.

As Carol stepped from the chair, Becky smiled and reached out for her. Becky slid one hand behind Carol’s head and the other hand to one of Carol’s breasts as she said, “Relax—deep trance for me.”

Paul watched astounded as Becky led Carol back to the futon, repeating what he’d done to her countless times.

Carol was floating in her wonderful dreamworld again, floating onto her back, feeling passions flaring up yearning for release.

Becky took Carol to the futon and after easing her to her back, started speaking softly as she stroked Carol’s body.

Paul nodded, watching intently, recognizing now the pattern Gina used with Becky as she ended up her Friday massage. How had Becky recalled all that? He frowned. Had she consciously recalled that? Somehow, he didn’t think so.

Becky was half in a dreamworld as well as she brought Carol to a crashing orgasm. She loved Carol so much. It was so nice to have someone to take care of. She was so looking forward to moving in with her.

Paul watched as Carol climaxed. He watched as Becky took her deeper into trance, giving Carol the same instructions Gina had given Becky every week for so, so, long. Somehow he didn’t think Gina suckled at Becky’s breasts the way Becky did with Carol, though.

Becky covered Carol with the comforter, kissed the dear girl on the forehead, and left the rec room. She was so smart, but she needed so much help, and Becky was glad she was there.

Carol woke, feeling wonderful. She stretched, gathered her clothes, and headed to the shower to clean up.

Paul picked up his toast. It was cold. He frowned, then smiled. Always unintended consequences—complex systems could demonstrate such interesting behavior. He quickly cleaned up the kitchen and headed downstairs.

Walking to Becky’s desk, he said, “Becky, could you join me in my office, please?”

Seeing her smile and start to stand, he turned and walked back down the hallway.

In his office, he turned away from the window as he heard his door closing.

He turned in time to see the last of Becky’s clothes hit the floor.

“I need you, Master,” she pleaded.

Paul stepped to her, dropping his pants and briefs. Together they almost tore off his shirt. He took her on her back on the floor. She shook as he slid into her, and he came quickly and intensely.

Paul was shaken at how intense that had been, and how quick. He got up, scooping up his clothes and stepping to his desk, leaving Becky moaning slightly on the floor. He reached for the mouse, his hand shaking a little. “Deep trance, Becky,” he said, clicking the mouse to play her trance cue.

After watching Becky sink into trance, he dressed and started questioning her on what he’d witnessed in the rec room. He was intrigued to learn she’d been “helping” Carol in that way since Monday morning. He was pretty sure neither Carol nor Becky were consciously aware of it, though. His early experiments involving Becky seemed to have produced a “leak” between her conscious and unconscious...

With a sigh he had her dress, and sent her away. She’d stop and clean up in the washroom, then waken on the way back to her desk.

Paul pondered for a moment, looking out the window. His programming had worked very well. When would he get the results from Carol’s medical? Her conditioning was pretty much complete.

But of more importance, if the new coils and the new driver board were indeed ready, how was he going to test them? Who? Not Carol, and not Becky—the risks of failure were too great. Hmmm... He was sure an opportunity would present itself.

He turned to the computer and flicked through monitor cameras. Becky was at her desk. The rec room was empty, as was the bathroom. Ah—Carol was in the lab, working away.

He pushed the intercom button on the phone. “Becky, I’ll be up in the lab with Carol.”

“Thanks. I’ll call you for lunch,” she replied with a laugh.

Tests

Paul headed upstairs to the lab.

But when he stuck his head in the door, Carol turned to him and called out, “Not yet! I need another hour! I’ll call you!” She waved him away with her arms.

Paul smiled. “Okay, I’ll be in my office.”

Paul headed back downstairs.

Carol called him on the intercom about an hour and a half later. “Ready, if you have the time,” she said.

Paul headed back upstairs.

Last night they’d mounted the transducers in a headrest containing a pair of high quality electrostatic speakers. The DSP board and the drivers were piggybacked on the enclosure containing the speaker electronics.

Carol was sitting in one of the lab chairs, smiling and sipping on a can of Dr. Pepper.

“Well?” Paul asked.

“Have a seat,” Carol said, waving him to another lab chair.

Paul sat down.

Carol stretched as she stood. She picked up the little probe and turned on the power. She hit a couple of keys on the keyboard connected to the DSP.

“Okay, here’s the old code. Constraint-based, you watched for a particular signature before you started pulse generation. Driving the coils in quadrature gives you some steering ability.”

She moved the probe between the transducers, slowing as she got to a particular area. A sensor on the DSP board chirped, and the green LED on the probe started flashing.

“Okay, the old code sensed lock and started pulse generation. But if I move it slightly...”

She moved the probe a fraction of an inch, and the green light on the probe went out.

“Here’s an intermediate level of the code, using the steering ability of the transducers. We still have lock criticality, but once we’ve gotten that, we have more leeway.”

She tapped a few keys on the keyboard, then moved the sensor back to the sweet spot. The DSP started making a tone as the green LED on the probe started blinking.

“I can move the probe within a sphere about two inches in diameter and still maintain lock.” She moved the probe around. The green light stayed on.

“Now let’s look at the new code. It’s a motion estimation approach, so the lock characteristics are much more dynamic. This is fun. Watch.”

She tapped a few more keys on the keyboard, then turned once again to the transducers mounted in the headrest. She had the probe hanging from a loop of string. She held it about six inches away from what had been the sweet spot and let the probe swing.

As the probe swung back and forth, it passed through the sweet spot. The DSP chirped and the green LED on the probe lit up.

“That’s the beauty of motion estimation. The code detects when we’re moving into or out of the area we can cover with the coils. I made some guesses on maximum velocities and accelerations. We can refine those later.”

Carol put the probe down on the workbench. “Oh, and we’re up to 28 percent CPU utilization now.”

Paul stood up and smiled. “I’m very impressed.” He thought for a minute. He’d given her the relaxation signal and pulses to work with. “How long does it take to switch sense and generated waveforms?”

Carol shrugged her shoulders. “Milliseconds. I built the tracker as a synthesized four-channel receiver, so we can look for four waveforms in parallel, and lock and generate whichever we want. The generator only handles one waveform at a time of course, so you prioritize the sense waveforms.”

Paul smiled and held out his arms. Carol moved closer.

“You make me very happy,” he whispered as he held her.

Carol shuddered in his arms as pleasure coursed through her.

Paul felt his hunger for her grow. This was so much better than he’d hoped for. He knew what the first three waveforms would be—trance, relaxation, arousal. That left the fourth one open. He knew what it would be. He’d have to dig into an archive file for that one.

He gave carol another squeeze. She moaned softly.

“Awake and alert again,” he whispered, letting go of her and stepping back.

Carol shook her head a little and blinked. She took a deep breath, looking at Paul.

“I’ll send you four sets of waveforms. How about that?”

Carol sighed. “Easy. We’ve got plenty of room left.”

“Okay. I’ll go get the files and send them up. Good work, Carol.”

She sighed as he touched her arm.

The first three waveforms were easy. Paul had to go through a number of 3-ring binders before he found the fourth one. He pulled out a CDROM, dumped files from it into a directory on the server, gave Carol access, and sent her an e-mail with the pathname.

He was about to head back upstairs when Becky called him. Yes, he had time to speak with a client.

When he walked back into the lab half an hour later, his heart caught in his throat as he walked in the door.

Carol was sitting in one of the lab chairs, working at one of the lab computers, the transducer assembly raised up near her head.

As Paul approached, he could hear music coming from the transducer assembly.

“Oh, hi—I got the files and was integrating them in,” Carol said with a smile.

Paul was relieved to see that the power supplies for the coils and their chillers were turned off. Still—if she’d triggered that fourth waveform...

Still looking at the display screen, she said, “The first three waveforms are really close to each other—almost spatially shifted. The fourth one is quite a bit different. So I went back to the same kind of selector scheme you used in the earlier code—I understand why now. For now, they’re hooked to these four switches. I also added in the audio generation. These are great little speakers!”

Paul forced a smile. “Yes, they are. Show me what you’ve done.”

They spent some time going over the code, making some revisions. Paul was listening to Carol explain how she’d implemented one section when they were interrupted by the intercom.

“Mister Walters?” came Becky’s voice from the speaker.

Paul frowned and went to the phone. She wouldn’t use that tone of voice unless something was the matter.

“What is it, Becky?” he answered.

“Mister Walters, there are two policemen here, named Hastings and Ross. They are asking a lot of questions, and would like to speak with you.”

Paul’s initial frown turned into a smile. “It’s okay, Becky. I’ll send Carol down to get them. Once they’ve left the area I want you to write down what they asked you, as best you can, okay?”

“I understand, Mister Walters. Most of their questions I can’t answer anyway.”

“That’s okay, Becky. Do your best. Carol will be right down.”

Paul hung up the phone. Carol was standing near him.

“What’s happening?” she asked, concern in her voice and showing on her face.

“Carol, there are two policemen downstairs. I’d like you to go down and show them up here to the lab. Okay? I’ll explain more later. If they have questions for you, you can either answer them as best you can, or if you’re not comfortable, tell them so. Don’t let them push you around, okay?”

Carol looked concerned and a little confused. “Okay, I guess. I’ll go get them.”

She headed out the lab door.

As soon as she was out the door, Paul flipped on power to the coils and their transducers and activated the tracking software. He selected the first trigger, relaxation. Then he selected the fourth one, the one he’d abandoned as a dead end.

Years ago, in his early researches, it seemed to be a promising avenue—he’d identified the areas of the brain to stimulate for relaxation, inducing trance, inducing arousal. He thought he’d identified an area that when stimulated would release inhibitions. It was deep in the old reptile brain, and he was sure it would elicit a strong response. In a sense he was right, except that it released deep-seated inhibitions leading to extremely violent behavior. The behavior came in cycles, starting with a brief period of half an hour or so, followed by hours of tranquility, then a longer agitated period followed by a shorter tranquil period, with the agitation becoming more frequent and severe. After two deaths, he abandoned that approach.

But now it might be quite useful. His smile turned almost to a sneer. He glanced at the debugging screen; the coils would be chilled to operating temperature in less than a minute.

He turned to the other computer and brought up a group of demonstration files. He hoped the two officers would enjoy the show. How nice of them to volunteer to help check out the new system.

He heard them approaching. Carol opened the door and stepped in, followed by the two police.

“Paul,” she said, concern evident in her voice.

He smiled. This was going to be fun. “Carol, thank you. Why don’t you go back downstairs. We’ll be down after a while.”

Hastings turned to her with a smile and said, “Thank you for your help.”

Ross had a critical look on his face and nodded curtly.

Hastings turned to Paul. “Thank you for your time, Doctor, I mean Mister Walters.”

“What can I do for you today, gentlemen?” Paul said calmly, not rising to the bait.

Hastings shook his head, glanced at his partner for a moment, then said, “My partner still has a few questions. I think we’ve just about concluded this investigation. It’s still confidential, but the bus driver has admitted to driving too fast for conditions, and to being distracted by riders on the bus.”

Paul nodded. “Thank you. I appreciate the information, and will keep it confidential.”

Paul turned to Ross, who was obviously unconvinced. That could change.

“Well, Detective Ross, what can I do for you?”

“Do you do any medical work here?” Ross asked sharply.

Paul was surprised, but then thought he understood where Ross was going with the question.

“No, I don’t, but I’m not sure I understand your question.”

Ross fired back, “When I look at your background, you’ve done a lot of work, brain work, a lot of it quite invasive.”

Paul nodded. “I did some neurobiology work early in my grad school days, yes, but my work has turned to psychoacoustics for the last dozen years or more.”

“And just what is that work?” Ross demanded.

Paul could smile again. “Are either of you familiar with the term watermarking?”

Ross frowned. Hastings tilted his head a bit, as if considering, then answered, “It’s a technique used to authenticate paper money.”

Paul nodded. “Yes, a way of indicating or authenticating the source, such as in bank notes, stocks, and so on. My work is in developing similar techniques for music and sound. Mister Ross, have you heard of Napster?”

Ross nodded. “The music thing on the net, yeah. What’s that got to do with it?”

“Ah, everything, especially if you’re a music studio, and you want consumers buying your product rather than stealing it. I develop techniques for watermarking music—adding an authenticator that studios can analyze and trace.”

“Why?” Hastings asked.

Paul nodded. “If you’re a studio, or a distributor, how do you tell which of the zillions of files out there on the internet are yours?”

Hastings nodded. “Look for the watermark?”

“Exactly—and one of the advantages of a watermark is that a computer can recognize it, if it’s done properly of course, so a human doesn’t have to actually listen to the file. So computers can search and examine thousands of music files per minute.”

Paul turned to Ross. “But where does that tie into psychoacoustics, eh Mister Ross? Would one of you like to have a seat? I can give you a demonstration.” Paul motioned to the chair with the transducers mounted at head level.

Hastings looked to Ross, then sat in the chair.

“Thank you, sir,” Paul said.

“The trick in watermarking music, just as in watermarking paper, is to produce a mark that can be identified when you look for it, but which otherwise isn’t visible, or audible. You don’t want people to be able to tell the difference between watermarked and non-watermarked music.”

Paul put a finger on the relaxation trigger switch, then clicked the mouse button. Music started playing through the speakers.

“You’ll hear the same sequence played a number of times. I selected a somewhat relaxing piece for you, Detective. See if you can hear the difference. You might want to move your head around a little.”

Paul clicked the switch. He watched Hastings, also watching a light emitting diode on the DSP at the same time. Ross was standing a little in front of the board, and couldn’t see it.

Hastings moved his head slightly. Paul saw a green light flash once on the DSP board. Hastings sighed a little. With the second flash, some of the lines had melted from his face, and his shoulders seemed to drop a bit. Paul clicked the switch off—it worked!

“Hear any difference?” Paul asked.

Hastings was smiling. “Not a damn bit, but I could sit here for quite a while trying.”

Paul chuckled. Ross still looked to be carved out of stone.

“The study of psychoacoustics lets us understand what the human ear can and cannot hear. I can produce watermarks which computers can spot, but people cannot. Let’s try one where there is an audible difference. Like to try, Mister Ross?”

Hastings stood up, smiling and shaking his head. “Those little things are about the best I’ve ever heard. Who makes them?”

Paul chuckled again. “A company called B & K in the Netherlands. They’re not too common, but they work extremely well. Mister Ross? Like to take a seat?”

Ross nodded through a hostile glare and sat down.

Paul clicked another selection, but didn’t start it playing. He stepped to the chair and loosened the adjustment on the transducer pole.

“Let’s raise this a little so you can get the most out of it,” Paul told Ross.

Stepping back to the keyboard and control switches, Paul placed his fingers on switches one and four.

“You’ll hear a selection from a Euro-pop tune; you might recognize it. As it repeats, listen for differences around the low bass notes. Compare what they sound like from one version to the other. Ready?”

Ross nodded tersely.

Paul clicked the mouse and threw switch four.

Ross tilted his head a little, listening intently.

The green LED flashed; Ross seemed to grimace.

Paul switched four off and one on. The green LED flashed and Ross seemed to relax a bit.

Paul switched one off and four on. Another flash. Reverse the switches. Another flash. Reverse. Flash. Reverse. Flash. Reverse. Flash. Reverse to one. Flash. Flash. Flash. One off.

“Hear the difference?” Paul asked.

Ross turned his head quickly. Paul almost hit switch one again, the look on Ross’s face was so ... animal.

But Ross took a breath and said, “Yes, the low bass notes seemed to wobble. It sounded strange.”

Paul nodded. “And that’s what tens of thousands of customers thought. Luckily, that was a competitor’s product.” He clicked the mouse, ending the demo. He powered off the system, coil support first.

Ross stood up from the chair. Paul thought he looked a bit different, a bit more on edge perhaps. Throwing in the relaxation pulses had been the right thing to do.

“If you have more questions, we could go downstairs,” Paul suggested.

Ross almost snarled. “Yes.”

Hastings gave a surprised look at his partner. He looked to Paul and said, “We’ll only be a few minutes.”

Paul said, “Follow me then—we’ll use the conference room.”

Going down the stairs, Paul asked, “Would either of you like something to drink? Coffee? Soft drink?”

Hastings said, “A Pepsi would be great, if it’s no trouble.”

“Not at all. Mister Ross?”

Ross growled, then said, “Yeah. Pepsi.”

Paul showed the two into the conference room. Becky gave him a questioning look.

Paul smiled. “Becky, Pepsis for the officers, and a Sprite for me please?”

Becky stood with a sigh and smiled a little. “Right away.”

As he walked into the conference room, Hastings was talking to Ross, in hushed but not friendly tones.

“I’ll give you a minute if you’d like,” Paul said from the doorway.

Hastings gave Ross a very cross look, then said, “No, that won’t be necessary.”

As Paul was sitting down, Becky brought in their drinks.

Paul picked up a notepad and a pen. “Very well, where should we start.”

Ross took out his pad, opened it up and said, “I want...”

Hastings interrupted him, placing a hand on Ross’s arm and taking his pad and pen from him.

“We’d like to know more about Miss MacDonald’s visits to your office over the last month or so.”

Paul wrote down the question, then looked up. “She visited me on business. Details are a matter of attorney-client privilege.”

Ross bristled at the answer.

Hastings merely nodded, adding, “We’re not interested in any details, merely dates and durations.”

Paul wrote that down after sketching out his response to the first question. “I’ll see what I can do about that.”

“Access records,” Ross practically barked out.

Paul wrote that down and looked up, not responding.

Hastings explained. “We’ve noticed your extensive security system. We’d be interested in logs corresponding to Miss MacDonald’s visits. The same goes for phone logs. No content, of course, just times and durations.”

Paul wrote down the question, then capped his pen and folded his hands on the desk.

“Gentlemen. On the security system, Miss MacDonald did not have card-key access to the building. Second, the security system only keeps information on the last four days. No permanent records are kept of that activity.”

“Why are all your employees women?” Ross demanded.

As Hastings put a hand on Ross’s arm again, Paul uncapped his pen and wrote down the question.

“My two full-time employees are women, Mister Ross, but most of my part-time employees are men.”

Ross said, “I want...”

Hastings gripped Ross’s arm. Ross shut up.

Paul allowed himself a tight smile.

“Gentlemen, I think it’s time to end this. If you have any further questions for me, or any of my employees, you will deliver those questions to me in writing, and my attorneys and I will consider how or if we will respond to them. I will be speaking to my attorneys as soon as you leave here, which will be momentarily. I suggest you do the same. Good day, gentlemen.”

Paul stood up.

Ross stood quickly, startling Paul and Hastings. Hastings grabbed Ross by the shoulder, as Ross seemed as if he was going to leap over the table.

“Thank you for your time, Mister Walters,” Hastings said, almost using a restraint hold on his partner.

Paul maintained a good distance as he showed them out the door.

When the door closed, Paul called to Becky, “Get Laura on the phone for me—I’ll be in my office.”

Paul sensed Carol coming out of her office, but he closed his office door quickly.

His hands were shaking slightly as he stepped to his desk. It worked! Oh, how it worked! He glanced at his watch. If it followed past history, Ross would be calm and collected again in another few minutes. And Hastings had been so relaxed! It worked!

“Your attorney on line two,” came Becky’s voice through the intercom.

Paul picked up the phone and filled Miss Pomeroy in on what had happened. He learned that they had visited the law firm asking similar questions and were politely told to piss off unless they had a subpoena. Yes, they’d asked his employees questions as well. What had they asked?

Paul put Laura on hold and called Carol and Becky into his office, then switching to the speakerphone.

The two women looked concerned. On the other end of the phone, Laura brought in an attorney with criminal law experience. Together they reviewed what had happened. They agreed that any further questions would be handled by the attorneys.

Paul clicked off the phone, looking at the two women. With a click of the mouse on his computer, the sound of a chime filled the room. Both women sighed, their eyes closing. The chime sounded again.

Paul told them that everything was under control, and they didn’t need to worry. They didn’t have to answer any more questions to the police unless he told them they should. It was all an unfortunate incident, and it was over. Then he woke them

As they blinked their eyes, Paul asked, “Any questions? I think we’re through that.”

Both women were now smiling.

“I’m glad it’s over,” Carol said.

“Me too,” Becky added with a sigh.

Paul nodded. “Now we can get back to work. Tomorrow is Friday.”

Becky rolled her shoulders. “Oh, I need Gina! Those guys were creepy!”

Carol smiled. “I’m looking forward to it as well, from all Becky has told me. Can I get back to work upstairs?”

Paul stood. “Sure. Let’s go. But no late night for you tonight!”

Carol and Becky both laughed.

“Not tonight—I’ve got other things to do,” Carol answered.

Paul and Carol worked in the lab for another hour or so, until Becky came up.

“Is it time already?” Carol asked.

Becky said, “Your plan. I can hardly wait.”

Paul looked up from the DSP board, glancing at Becky, then Carol.

Carol smiled. “I’ve solved my roomie problem—Becky is moving in with me. Her aunt and uncle are helping us move stuff tonight.”

Becky chimed in. “That makes room for my mom to come out from back East. My aunt is flying back next week to help.”

Paul nodded. “I’m glad you’ve both managed to work things out.”

Becky and Carol looked at each other, smiling.

“Our future is here, that’s the best part,” Carol said with a sigh.

“Let’s get going,” Becky said.

“See you in the morning, Paul,” Carol said, brushing his arm with a hand. “Thanks so much for making all this possible.”

Paul nodded, watching the two leave.

He sighed and shook his head. Unexpected, that. But still, quite in line with the programming he’d given them.

He returned to the now-proven system. He ripped out the fourth file, replacing it with a duplicate of the relaxation data.

The whole thing lacked portability in its present form—the DSP board, another board with coil drivers and preamps, the power supplies, all cabled up to the B&K platform.

Hmmm... He had another B&K mount—that made sense. He smiled—time for some rework.

But first, a small test was in order. He brought up another directory from the server downstairs, loading in a tone to play with the relaxation pulse. He powered things up, waiting in anticipation for the transducers to reach operating temperature again.

He shook his head as he watched the display—these took a third the time and less than a tenth of the energy to cool, yet it still felt like a very long time.

He configured the system to provide pulses every five seconds automatically, once lock was obtained.

It was ready. He took a breath, hands shaking a little in anticipation. He remembered the first time he’d used the prototype of the chair downstairs.

He sat in the lab chair, holding on to the arms as he moved his head back into position.

He was surprised by the chime sounding out, the pulse hitting him, melting him as he moved his head.

He opened his eyes and laughed, his head back, resting against the transducer assembly. He’d moved through the sweet spot, and it had gotten him—so quick, so good! He closed his eyes and lifted his head slowly, determined to hold it in place this time, moving a little more, a little...

The chime sounded again, and he tried to balance himself, holding in position. He felt his whole body waver slightly, so hard to hold still so that... The chime sounded again and he sighed, feeling the tension melt away. It sounded again, and his head rolled forward.

He opened his eyes, leaning forward in the chair. Oh, it worked! He reached forward, disabling the system, then got out of the chair slowly.

What now? He looked up and laughed. Integrate the preamps and drivers, produce a single printed circuit board with everything on it. He laughed again. Should he install them in the conference room chairs, or in Carol and Becky’s desk chairs? The chairs in his office? The passenger seat headrest in his car? That would be just the thing for meetings with those people down in Silicon Valley—what had Carol called them? “Vulture capitalists?” A short drive to lunch would change their views significantly.

He thought about Carol again, her figure, her aroma as they’d worked closely in the lab. He should call the doctor’s office. He was getting impatient. Perhaps something had turned up? All the more reason to wait for full clearance. She was quite the woman. He chuckled; her technical skills were very good.

He remounted the coils in the B&K frame without the speakers. Maybe a custom foam pillow for his bed?

He sighed as he moved the newly mounted equipment over to a different spot in the lab. He needed some time in the chair as well—the day had been quite trying.

A short while later he was downstairs in the chair, sighing as his relaxation program started in.

Friday

Paul woke feeling refreshed. He started to turn on the monitor to see what was happening downstairs, but didn’t bother. He wanted his breakfast in peace this morning.

He stopped in the lab on the way downstairs.

“I see you found things,” he said to Carol.

She smiled, a rosy glow on her face. He almost chuckled.

“Yes, I like how it’s packaged up. What’s next?”

“Well, I think that’s about it for the software side. Why don’t you start marking up schematics. I’d like to see everything but the power supplies on a single board. Give Carl a call and see what he wants in order to do the board layout.”

Carol smiled. “That sounds like fun! I had an idea on simplifying the code I wanted to try out, though, seeing as how we don’t need the overhead of a parallel receiver.”

Paul considered for a moment. “Archive what we’ve got, then have a whack at it. Remember, we’ve got a short day today, with Gina coming in. You’re in for a treat, and I, like Becky, need it.”

“Late nights with a logic analyzer catch up with you,” Carol agreed. “Have you talked to Becky yet this morning?”

Paul shook his head, “No.”

Carol shook hers. “You’d better—a call from the attorneys. Something is up. I wanted to call you, but Becky said you weren’t to be disturbed.”

Paul smiled; Becky was well conditioned. “I’ll head right down, then,” and headed down the stairs.

Carol started to boot up the development machine, but when she touched the mouse, the screen lit up. She made a face—perhaps her boss was human after all, forgetting to shut things down. She frowned—he was all too human. She and Becky had talked about him for an hour or more last night after moving in Becky’s things. She sighed and archived all the files.

As Paul walked to Becky’s desk, she called out, “Call Laura, right away!”

“Good morning to you too!” Paul called back.

“You called?” Paul said when Laura came on the phone.

“Paul, get over here right away.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ross,” she said.

Paul frowned. “I’ll be over as soon as I can. This time of morning, about twenty minutes.”

“That will have to do,” Laura replied.

Paul hung up the phone. He grabbed his coat, pausing at Becky’s desk.

“I’m headed to the law offices, not sure when I’ll be back. Don’t wait lunch for me.”

Becky nodded somberly, but then broke a smile. “But have Gina wait?”

Paul smiled as well. “Yes.”

He headed out the door, and started walking to the subway station. Hopefully everything would be running on time.

When Paul walked into the law firm lobby, the receptionist gestured to one hallway and said, “Conference Room B, Mister Walters—they’re waiting for you.”

Paul entered the room to find Laura and three other attorneys he recognized. Hastings was there. Paul guessed the two suits next to him were also cops.

“What’s going on?” Paul asked.

One of the senior partners motioned to a chair. “Paul, please have a seat. This is difficult to explain.”

One of the suits he didn’t recognize spoke up. “Doctor Walters, I’m Captain Brown from Internal Affairs. This is Travis from the District Attorney’s office.”

Paul barely stifled a snarl.

Brown continued. “First off, we’ve closed out the investigation on Miss MacDonald. The DA is still deciding whether or not to press charges against the bus driver. But you and your employees will not be bothered again.”

Paul nodded. “But?”

Brown, Travis, and Hastings exchanged glances. Paul shot a glance at Laura. She made a gesture with her hand as if to tell him it was okay.

Brown asked, “Doctor Walters, how would you describe Detective Ross?”

Paul sighed and shook his head. “Aggressive, impatient—especially yesterday. Why?”

Brown continued, “Could you tell us what happened yesterday, in as much detail as you can recall?”

Paul explained what had transpired, allowing himself to be interrupted for questions on Ross’s demeanor.

“Would you mind if we took a look at your lab?” Travis asked at one point.

Before Paul could speak, one of the senior attorneys said, “I don’t see what relevance that would have.”

Travis sat back. “It was just a suggestion. We would like to interview the two others though.”

The attorney nodded and said, “We can probably arrange that.”

“Would someone mind telling me what the hell is going on here?” Paul said loudly.

The senior attorney turned to Paul. “Paul, it’s nothing to do with you.”

Paul interrupted, growling, “That’s what Ross has been saying...”

Brown jumped in. “Would you say that Detective Ross was agitated yesterday?”

Paul huffed. “I already did. He was on a razor’s edge when he got there. He scared both Carol and Becky—both of them told my attorneys that yesterday afternoon. I think if Hastings hadn’t been there... Well, I don’t know what would have happened. That man scared me; he scared all of us.”

Brown turned to Hastings. “Yet you say he was calm and collected when you got back to the office?”

Hastings frowned. “Yes, somewhat. As I told you, he’s been, I don’t know, hard to get along with the last month or so. I didn’t realize it was so serious.”

Paul was getting close to his limit. “What the hell is going on?”

Travis looked at his colleagues again, then to Paul. The other two lowered their heads.

“Late last night, about two this morning, Detective Ross... As best we can piece together, he stumbled on an undercover drug bust. He shot and killed an undercover police officer, a suspect, and didn’t cease fire when uniformed officers arrived on scene. He exchanged fire with them, wounding one seriously, before he was shot and killed.”

Paul sighed, suppressing a smile. “I’m sorry. He pursued what he believed in very aggressively.”

Silence filled the room.

One of the senior partners asked, “Did he have family?”

Hastings said softly, “He was single.”

Paul said, “You’ll notify us of the services?”

Brown said, “Of course.” He looked to his colleagues.

Travis said, “Doctor Walters, thank you for your cooperation this morning. We may be in further touch with you, but from what I’ve heard, I don’t think that will be necessary.” Travis looked to his colleagues, who shook their heads in the negative. He looked to the senior attorney.

The attorney stood up. “Very well, then. Thank you, all, for attending on such short notice.”

Paul spoke up. “A question about my lab?”

Brown said, “Yes?”

“We’re in the middle of a number of projects. Is there anything I need to do? It’s usually in quite a state of flux. The demo I did yesterday was quite impromptu.”

The senior attorney frowned at Paul.

Brown looked to Travis, who shook his head. Brown turned back to Paul. “We don’t need to see your lab, thanks.”

As they filed out of the conference room, Laura caught Paul’s eye. He followed her down the hallway towards her office.

“Thank you for coming over so quickly. I’m sorry I didn’t fill you in more, but I was told not to,” she told Paul apologetically.

He smiled. “That’s quite all right. I understand. I’m happy this episode is over.”

Laura smiled. “But I wouldn’t mind seeing your lab...”

Paul laughed. “I’m sure something could be arranged.”

With a twinkle in his eye, he asked, “Are you free for lunch?”

Laura sighed. “I know I shouldn’t turn down a client, but the chaos this morning has set us all back a bit.”

“But in loss, there’s always opportunity,” Paul said softly, looking at her.

Laura smiled, returning his gaze.

“Could you join me for the baseball game tomorrow night? You might have heard I’ve got season tickets, and for better seats than your firm has.”

“Oh, I’ve heard...” Laura said suggestively.

“You can bring a chaperone if you want, I’ve got four tickets.”

Laura laughed, her head going back, exposing a delicious neck. “How about your two ladies, Carol and Becky? I should meet them face to face; we’re going to be working together quite a bit. Your patent attorney has told me quite a bit about Carol—she sounds to be quite a catch.”

“Yes, she is. And that’s a superb idea,” Paul said. “Meet me at the office at six thirty, and we’ll walk over.”

“Done. Until tomorrow night then.” Laura said, walking to the door.

“That’s fine—I know my way out—see you tomorrow.”

On the street, Paul stretched and took a deep breath. The sun was bright and the day beautiful. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number.

“Doctor Foster, please—this is Paul Walters. I sent an employee over for a physical last week, and we haven’t heard any results. Oh? All clear? Yes, please fax over the confirmations so I can send them on to the insurance carrier. No, no problem, I understand; we all get backed up from time to time. Yes, thanks again.”

Putting the phone back in his pocket, Paul laughed loud and long. It was a great day. He could hardly wait to get back to the office.