Harmonic Meditation exercises. I’ll be happy to give you the name of my instructor.”
There was some smothered laughter from the others.
Rage flashed in Webber’s eyes, but he managed to keep his expression stone-faced.
“I think that’s enough, Lyra,” Cruz said. “Would you mind opening the chamber?”
“Sure,” she said.
She slid the pack off her back and took a pair of dark glasses out of a side pocket. Slipping the glasses onto her nose, she walked directly up to the lightning-filled entrance. The shades dimmed the bright energy to the point where she could look at it directly.
She put her hand on the amethyst wall close to the opening and heightened her senses. The stone warmed under her hand. Vincent chortled in excitement and bounced up and down, delighting in the game.
Energy surged through Lyra, thrilling her all the way to her toes. Her hair stood straight out on end, forming a wild halo around her face. Her shirt lifted a little away from her skin as though caught by a storm wind. She suddenly wanted to fly. She was on fire with power, intoxicated with it. For a tuner, there was nothing like the rush of really hot amber.
But she was also a professional. A lot of people had a low opinion of tuners, but she took pride in being an expert. And when it came to amethyst, nobody worked stone better.
She forced herself to concentrate and began to search for the pattern of the wildly oscillating currents. She found it almost at once. Vincent vibrated with excitement. He was always up for a little psychic thrill. His hunting eyes opened again.
She identified the frequencies needed to control the forces of the lightning that locked the door and sent out counteracting wavelengths, pushing her own energy through the amber charms on her bracelet. The purple lightning flashed even hotter for a moment and then quickly faded. With a few final sparks and crackles and hisses, it subsided altogether.
Her hair tumbled back down around her face, and her clothes settled on her body. The heady sensation of power evaporated.
For few seconds there was stunned silence behind her. Everyone crowded closer, trying to peer through the entrance of the chamber. Purple light glowed from the interior of the ruin.
Five people appeared in the de-rezzed opening, all wearing varying expressions of amazement and relief.
A cheer went up from the group gathered around Lyra.
“They’re okay,” someone shouted.
One of the ghost hunters walked out first, probably testing to be certain that there would be no surprises for the others. He looked at Lyra.
“Appreciate it, ma’am,” he said. “The Guild owes you.”
“No,” Cruz said. “Amber Inc. owes this favor.”
Another man emerged from the chamber. He was in his midthirties, tall and powerfully built, with the sort of rugged features, macho attitude, and short haircut that just screamed cop or private security. He looked first at Cruz.
“Mr. Sweetwater,” he said. “Sorry about this.”
“It’s not your fault, Garrett,” Cruz said. “Hell, it’s an alien ruin. There’s always a surprise of some kind. Miss Dore, here, is the one who opened the chamber. Lyra, this is Garrett Flagg, head of lab security.”
“Mr. Flagg.” Lyra inclined her head politely.
“Miss Dore.” Flagg nodded once, serious and intent. “Sure didn’t expect you to come to the rescue tonight, not after what went down between you and the company. But I’m damn grateful. I owe you. If there’s ever anything you need from me, just pick up the phone.”
“Thank you,” Lyra said. She looked at Cruz. “There is one thing I’d like to do before I leave tonight.”
“Name it,” Cruz said.
“I want to take one more look around inside the chamber,” she said.
Flagg frowned uneasily. “Sorry, Miss Dore, but no unauthorized personnel are allowed inside. Access to the interior of the chamber is strictly controlled.”
“By Amber Inc.,” Cruz said. “As the CEO of the security
There was some smothered laughter from the others.
Rage flashed in Webber’s eyes, but he managed to keep his expression stone-faced.
“I think that’s enough, Lyra,” Cruz said. “Would you mind opening the chamber?”
“Sure,” she said.
She slid the pack off her back and took a pair of dark glasses out of a side pocket. Slipping the glasses onto her nose, she walked directly up to the lightning-filled entrance. The shades dimmed the bright energy to the point where she could look at it directly.
She put her hand on the amethyst wall close to the opening and heightened her senses. The stone warmed under her hand. Vincent chortled in excitement and bounced up and down, delighting in the game.
Energy surged through Lyra, thrilling her all the way to her toes. Her hair stood straight out on end, forming a wild halo around her face. Her shirt lifted a little away from her skin as though caught by a storm wind. She suddenly wanted to fly. She was on fire with power, intoxicated with it. For a tuner, there was nothing like the rush of really hot amber.
But she was also a professional. A lot of people had a low opinion of tuners, but she took pride in being an expert. And when it came to amethyst, nobody worked stone better.
She forced herself to concentrate and began to search for the pattern of the wildly oscillating currents. She found it almost at once. Vincent vibrated with excitement. He was always up for a little psychic thrill. His hunting eyes opened again.
She identified the frequencies needed to control the forces of the lightning that locked the door and sent out counteracting wavelengths, pushing her own energy through the amber charms on her bracelet. The purple lightning flashed even hotter for a moment and then quickly faded. With a few final sparks and crackles and hisses, it subsided altogether.
Her hair tumbled back down around her face, and her clothes settled on her body. The heady sensation of power evaporated.
For few seconds there was stunned silence behind her. Everyone crowded closer, trying to peer through the entrance of the chamber. Purple light glowed from the interior of the ruin.
Five people appeared in the de-rezzed opening, all wearing varying expressions of amazement and relief.
A cheer went up from the group gathered around Lyra.
“They’re okay,” someone shouted.
One of the ghost hunters walked out first, probably testing to be certain that there would be no surprises for the others. He looked at Lyra.
“Appreciate it, ma’am,” he said. “The Guild owes you.”
“No,” Cruz said. “Amber Inc. owes this favor.”
Another man emerged from the chamber. He was in his midthirties, tall and powerfully built, with the sort of rugged features, macho attitude, and short haircut that just screamed cop or private security. He looked first at Cruz.
“Mr. Sweetwater,” he said. “Sorry about this.”
“It’s not your fault, Garrett,” Cruz said. “Hell, it’s an alien ruin. There’s always a surprise of some kind. Miss Dore, here, is the one who opened the chamber. Lyra, this is Garrett Flagg, head of lab security.”
“Mr. Flagg.” Lyra inclined her head politely.
“Miss Dore.” Flagg nodded once, serious and intent. “Sure didn’t expect you to come to the rescue tonight, not after what went down between you and the company. But I’m damn grateful. I owe you. If there’s ever anything you need from me, just pick up the phone.”
“Thank you,” Lyra said. She looked at Cruz. “There is one thing I’d like to do before I leave tonight.”
“Name it,” Cruz said.
“I want to take one more look around inside the chamber,” she said.
Flagg frowned uneasily. “Sorry, Miss Dore, but no unauthorized personnel are allowed inside. Access to the interior of the chamber is strictly controlled.”
“By Amber Inc.,” Cruz said. “As the CEO of the security
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