Part 83 (2/2)

”Why are you talking to her, Karl? She can't hear you.”

”We don't actually know whether she can or not. At some level I think she's aware of her surroundings. In a way we should hope that she is.

If there are going to be impacts on her consciousness, I'd rather she be alert and able to remember what it was like.”

Then the voices drifted away, but she was sure she had no control over anything. The white mushrooms. She was thinking about them again. Only now they were above her and growing toward the sky and then she realized she was underground, buried and looking up from her own grave.

What happened next was a journey through time--somewhere in the far- distant future. She seemed to be watching it through a large window, unable to interact with what was happening on the other side.

Time.

She felt a sensation at the back of her neck and the images faded away.

”This d.a.m.ned well better be right” came a voice. ”There's not going to be another chance.”

”I did an activity simulation for a range of antibodies, just to make sure she wouldn't automatically reject the enzyme because of the earlier injection.” The voice belonged to Karl Van de Vliet Her mind was clearing and she recognized it ”But all the results indicate that the effect of the antibodies is essentially washed out at this concentration of active enzyme. Have the good grace to let me try to get this right.”

She was listening and trying to understand what was going on. Her mind had been drifting through time and s.p.a.ce, but now she was aware that something new was happening. The hallucinations, the conversations around her, all were beginning to focus in, to build in intensity.

But that was not what was really happening; it was merely a mask over something that had entered the laboratory, some kind of force.

Then her vision began to work in a strange way that felt more like a sixth sense. She was ”seeing” what was going on in the room, even though her eyes were shut. Or perhaps they weren't. She didn't know and she was still strapped to the gurney, so she had no way to check.

”Kristy,” Winston Bartlett said dismay in his voice, ”you shouldn't be in here. You should be resting.”

”What the h.e.l.l are you doing down here?” Van de Vliet demanded. The pitch of his voice had noticeably gone up.

Who? Ally wondered. Who's he talking to?

There are definitely new people in the room.

”Come on, Ally,” said a voice in her ear, urgent. This time she knew who it was. It was Stone. ”d.a.m.n them all. I'm getting you out of here.

Now.”

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