One of the watcher's camera catches up with my pace and follows me until I stop inches away from it.

« Hi. Let's see... You're Wall-E. » I say, looking at the scratched panel just below what could pass for its waist, though these watchers didn't have legs as they were mounted on the giant box server. « I haven't seen you since the car crasher case. How you been doing ? How's your handler doing ? Hi Ella ! You know, Wall-E's got a loose panel on the right. You should check that. »

Sometimes people, when they're close enough, think I am nuts. Good to be sent in with the loonies. I don't really care anymore and, anyway, they're all far too busy with the box on the ground to care about me now.

« Creep ? I thought you were still off. How's your head ? » says Ella's voice through the small earpiece I pick from under one of the Watcher's panel.

Ella is the mechanic behind a handful of watchers. And she is live monitoring them from the center of operation. Or so she told me.

« It's fine, Ella. It was the hips actually that caught the worse of it. But here I am. So... Creep it is ? » I reply as enthusiastic as I can be, trying not to eye the damn box on the ground.

« Yeah. That's how the other handlers are calling you now. Ever since they discovered your little quirk of talking to the watchers. Not that I mind. I do the same sometimes. At least they listen, unlike the most majority of people here. You do quite the job too when you're not trying to get yourself into troubles. It was the hips then ? There's a bad boy who'll have to behave for a while. »

I feel my cheeks blushing at Ella's deliberate warm tone.

« I... I think there won't be much left to behave if that thing goes BOOM on me over there. »

« I definitely know of something that wants to go BOOM on you... but I see your point. Want to know the drill I guess ? »

I have never been able to pin wether Ella was joking on me or if she is actually seriously hitting on me. It feels way too... Open. And direct. I don't know what to think about it. And I have never found it in me to ask.

« Yes. Please ? »

« I love a man who says please... so... let's see... Ah. There it is. Alarm went off at 0512. A call for a man down. No visible injuries. Most likely a seizure of some kind. Medics were dispatched. AT 0533, second call, from the medics this time. The man was indeed in perfect physical condition according to them but went completely delirious about a box upon waking up. At 0548, there was no more call as the land security declared the emergency state and pulled the residence into lockdown. That's for the short version. »

I feel my stomach moving and swallow before asking :

« Delirious ? This is rather hinting at a bacteriological threat. »

« So they said. That's why the techies were sent instead of the minesweepers. Chances are that, if it'd been a bomb there, the guy wouldn't have known if he'd been looking straight at it. Unless the terrorists do have some strange sense of humor and made it look like one of those centuries old bombs with cables and red ticking timer."

I know she is trying to sound funny and comforting. Somehow. And I can't agree less. If someone had wanted to blow the place, they wouldn't have been that obvious about it. They'd probably have already blown the building from the moment they'd been discovered, just to make sure we didn't get a chance to stop their plan....

Or - I feel my guts tightening at the idea - they have planned all this on purpose, somehow knowing all too well how many people would be called up here, going for a much bigger strike.

It's either that, or Ella's right, it isn't a bomb at all.

It's bacteriological.

I don't like my chances with that one.

"Any idea what kind of biohazard threat could be involved ?" I ask, pulling a hand nervously through my hair.

Ella doesn't respond right away, which feels odd.

"Ella ?"

I look up the watcher's figure, straight at one of its many camera lens, almost expecting to see it moving. Around me, I still catch a few looks, but mostly I am ignored. I could have tried to use my bracelet to spot the one in charge but, in the past, Ella has been my most reliable source of information. After all, she is monitoring the whole black box through which every single data gets loaded and sent. Hard to do better than that. I never understood why I had been the only one to think about it. Had anyone else tried that before ? I can't be the first. Maybe Ella didn't respond to them ? But why me then ?

I am about to give up on waiting for an answer, convinced that Ella must have had an emergency, she is working too no matter what it looks like, and the watcher I am facing is only one of those she is monitoring, when Ella suddenly comes back on the line with a crackling sound.

"Radioactive scans came back fully negative. Generic neurotoxins, airborne viruses and most known spy gas were cleared. You'd have felt the effects by now anyway, you or anyone in the vicinity for more than 5 minutes. Whatever it is, it's not in the air you're breathing. If I were you, I'd be careful about touching anything though."

Or anyone, I think.

Ella's voice had sounded quite cold and matter of factly, far from her usual self. I want to ask her what happened but my mind is already toying around every damn threat possibility. If the techies haven't found anything yet, Ella is right again, it has to be something that works through contact only. It is the only damn thing the techies can't really test despite all the technology involved.

Some bacterial threats are known to come alive only upon organic matter. Nothing a drone can test. I pull gloves out of my pockets, going back through all of my recent moves, trying to decide wether or not I might have touched something hazardous.

"You didn't touch anything, sweetheart. I'd have told you. Put the damn protection now... Oww... how I wish I could be talking of something else... I'm pretty sure you're the type to use protective skin..."

This time I feel my cheeks going on fire and my genitals have a brief spark of life that comes and goes at Ella's warm and purring tone. I can't help but picture what she's just said. Both on the islands and here, condoms are still regularly in use as contraceptive and illness barriers, but their popularity is decreasing as they are blamed for reducing pleasure and polluting the planet. A lot of people, men and women alike, are using everyday pills or yearly injections for contraption instead of relying on condoms but some viruses still can be passed from lover to lover. Hence the protective skins. Expensive, but reusable, made from high grade material that feel close to real skin, tailored to the user, it is said to be completely allergy free, acts both as contraceptive and barrier, can be worn all day long for those who want to be ready at anytime, and it is said to feel quite like it isn't there at all. Its major drawbacks are its price, the need to take it on and off to pee, and the need to wash it quite regularly.

For some reasons, most men I know despise skins mostly for the need to wash it and they prefer to go using condoms or try to coerce their lovers not to use anything... Why the hell am I thinking about that now ?!

I swear I heard Ella moaning as I pulled my gloves on. It can't be any weirder.

"I'm sorry..." she says. "You're hot and I've been locked up here for the last three months, there's nothing happening, I've got no window, you can't imagine what it feels like to be monitoring these all days with nothing else to do but imagine what it would be like to touch human skin again and the screens' heat isn't helping. Keeping clothes on ? It's flat out torture. I'm sweating in my underwear so please let a girl have her little fantasies, will you ?"

I am voiceless.

I knew being a handler couldn't be easy, I knew they were isolated while monitoring, but three months of isolation ?!

"Ella... When's your next permission?" I hear myself asking, realizing a bit late that I used the military expression.

"One more week..." she purrs, making me conscious of the way I nervously brush my hair again, trying to remember the bomb, the threat, everyone possibly dying, instead of thinking about skins and warmth as she adds " You must think I'm nuts but despite the sheer number of screen I have to monitor, there isn't a single camera IN here. Which means... Hmm... I sometime get creative with meds... and when it kicks I admit I have brought some toys... Sorry... I definitely was in the middle of starting something when the alarms went on... and OH MY you are GORGEOUS."

I can hardly swallow at that and retreat away from the watcher, turning my back on its cameras, searching for the officer in charge while trying not-to-notice how Ella is growing somewhat high on me and trying to act normal while she obviously is talking about... pleasing herself. It's a challenge and a very embarrassing moment that I'd gladly have avoided considering the whole terrorist threat.

How did I even pull myself into that again ?

"Ella I think I should..."

"Don't go... you'll need the datas. I can behave. Hear ? Back behind the lines. It's just that it kicks in a bit randomly. I always told you, you were damn hot... Right now, with the meds it's impossible not to think about being a really bad girl with you. I wasn't supposed to be on watch today or I wouldn't have taken anything obviously but Del is sick, I had to replace him. Please ? I really LOVE talking with you."

I can hear the efforts she puts into it. And her plea does hit home. No-one else talked to her. Isolation can be a bitch, I know that. I know how it can feel like going insane, not talking to anyone else for days. I don't have a choice anyway because I found the officer and I really don't want to explain him why am I taking off a small earphone off upon meeting him. All I can hope for is that Ella won't do anything too embarrassing.

"Officer ?"

The man turns around, short grey hair, tanned skin, slim hands, small stature. I take his looks in with a small shock, but instead of looking at me, he looks straight at his bracelet.

"Agent Blender." He states. "You late."

I stiffen.

"Where's your team ? They late too ?" The chief of the police station himself, a man I spoke to only once until now, asks me, still looking at his bracelet.

"I kept them behind the lines for now." I answer dryly. "What do we have ?"

He slowly lowers his arm and goes back to staring at the circle of people working around the box. Not once did he look at me and this starts to make me nervous.

"The hell if I know what it is that we have, agent. Your team should be here. I need all your eyes all your thoughts and all your impulses on this."

"Sir, if I may..."

"You may not!" He spits, his black eyes shooting up to mine. "The lines aren't gonna protect them if whatever gift lies there is a bomb ! You know that better than we do!"

"Again, sir..."

"There's no sir here! You're not a damn soldier anymore!" He growls in anger, waving his arm, tensed like he's about to burst. "Let's cut the bullshit and call me Henry. I don't give a damn about hierarchy, there's no point if we're all to die in a matter of hours! You're a borderline element no one wants to hear about but you get RESULTS and that is why I wanted YOU here ! So do your thing and get results! If you want your team out, please yourself! If you want to punch random people around, please yourself ! Crack their bones if you must ! You want to break every single rule we ever taught you ? Please yourself too ! Do whatever you need to do ! After all, it's only our lives and a thousand more at stake."

Even locked half naked and drugged up miles away from where Henry and I are standing, I hear Ella's breath stop, in shock, in same time as mine as we both realize how more fucked up this situation apparently is.