Part One

“...the Minnow would be lost!”

Michael looked up at the monitor and said, “What’s a minnow?” Birkoff laughed. “A small fish. Why?” Michael pointed above Birkoff’s head. “Look!” Birkoff’s mouth fell open. “Huh?”

Just then, Walter came out of his workshop, muttering and cursing. “Okay, what’s the joke? I’ve been trying to run a ballistics check on some weapons, and instead of guns, I’m getting Gilligan’s Island!”

Birkoff stared at the monitor. “Is that what this is? What’s Gilligan’s Island?”

“An old tv show,” Walter answered. Birkoff flipped a switch, but the feed remained the same on every monitor. “Um...this could be a problem...”

Madeline walked into the area, where people were starting to gather. “What’s going on here? Doesn’t everyone have work to do?” Walter glanced at Birkoff. “Uh, there seems to be a minor problem with the monitors.”

“What kind of problem?” Madeline queried sharply. “I want to know, and I want to know now!”

Birkoff looked scared spitless. “Well, the monitors all seem to be running the same program, an old tv show called Gilligan’s Island.”

“What kind of nonsense is this, Birkoff? How can this be?”

Michael was actually smiling. Now they were in trouble for sure. “Madeline, come and look at this. It could use subtitles.” Madeline glanced at Michael as if she doubted his sanity. “Somehow I doubt that would improve it.”

Michael grinned at Madeline. “So this is American tv? Is it some sort of secret weapon?”

Madeline swallowed a giggle. “I’m afraid not, Michael. You seem to be taking this entirely too seriously. It was not a very good show.”

“Oh, but it is.” Michael laughed. “It’s better if you watch with the sound off.”

Walter muttered under his breath, “or even better with the picture off.” Birkoff snorted impolitely. “You didn’t get out much when you were growing up, did you, Michael?”

“I never watched tv.”

Birkoff choked as he caught Walter’s eye. “Somehow I guessed that.”

“I wonder if Nikita has seen this.” He seemed mesmerized. Birkoff was beginning to wonder about Michael. Maybe he needed a vacation.

“Oh, I don’t think it played in Australia.”

“Nikita’s Australian?” Michael looked surprised. “I never knew that.”

Walter nodded slowly. “Yessss,” he drawled, “she’s Australian, and you’re French...remember?”

Michael nodded animatedly. “J’en suis. I am one of them.”

Madeline frowned. “Michael, you haven’t been hit on the head recently, have you?”

“Actually, no.” Michael smiled politely, and Madeline was beginning to feel like she was in a bad remake of The Stepford Wives, with Michael playing the lead.

“Do you--” She cut herself off suddenly and stared at Birkoff and Walter. “Damn! We should have thought of it sooner!”

“What?” Walter and Birkoff chorused as one.

“There is a subliminal message implanted in that tv program. No, don’t look at it, Birkoff! And Walter, how long were you looking at it?”

“Not long. I came here right away. I knew something was screwy.”

Birkoff scanned the tv program, and chortled when he discovered that Madeline was right on target. “You’re right! There is a subliminal message imbedded in it! But it’s too twisted! Who would do such a thing?”

Madeline looked horrified. “Why? What does it say, Birkoff? You have to tell us!”

“It says...Paul is dead! But only if you play it backwards! It also says that John was the Walrus, but I don’t think that’s true, do you, Walter?”

Walter looked like he was ready to scream or strangle Birkoff. Maybe both. He smiled sardonically and said, “Perhaps we need Nikita’s input on this. She hasn’t been exposed to much tv either. Maybe it only affects minds that weren’t raised on the old electronic babysitter.”

“Was this Ginger a big movie star?” Michael asked, apparently unaware that he was behaving out of character.

“Michael...” Walter went to touch Michael on the arm, but Michael simply brushed him away. He seemed fascinated by Ginger and her considerable assets. Walter looked at Madeline. “This is scary,” he whispered. “I ain’t never seen a reaction like that to Gilligan’s Island. I mean, Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”

Birkoff leaned over and agreed. “There is definitely something curious about the tv program, Madeline. But without further study, it would be hard to tell what it is.”

“Studying it might make you do something dangerous, Birkoff. It might already have infected Michael’s mind.”

Just then, Michael turned around with a glazed smile on his lips. “I’m ready to go meet Ginger.”

“Michael,” Madeline said, in one last effort to make Michael understand that he was not dealing with reality. “Are you hearing voices?”

“Bien sur!” he answered quite cheerfully.

Birkoff gasped. “The message is unintelligible to us because it’s in French! I missed that before when Michael said it was better if you watched with the sound off! He’s been hypnotized by some sort of subsonic frequency that’s giving him command hallucinations!”

“And what can we do to break its spell?”

“Well, I figured out the hard part, Madeline, you’re the shrink, what do you think resolves command hallucinations?” Birkoff said in a voice that clearly did not belong to Birkoff.

Walter stared at Birkoff. “Anti-psychotic medication!”

Birkoff winked. “Bingo!”

Michael laughed. Birkoff gestured to Madeline, and they walked away from Michael. “He’s losing his grip on reality, bit by bit, Madeline. We need to anchor him here, before it’s too late.”

“Got any great ideas, Birkoff?” she said dryly.

“As a matter of fact, yes...” he admitted. “Bring in Nikita. That’ll grab his attention. She’s way better than tv.”

And so, they called for Nikita. Nikita walked in, completely unaware of Michael’s situation. After watching him for several minutes, she agreed that Michael was clearly under the influence of something, or someone. She looked puzzled. “He says he’s in love with Ginger.”

“What?”

They glanced at one another, and Nikita shrugged. “Maybe you don’t like it, but that’s what he said.”

Madeline asked what they all wanted to know, but somehow dreaded hearing. “But who’s Ginger?”

“Oh, that’s me.” She smiled brightly at the group, including Michael.

There was much chest beating and gnashing of teeth. “And who’s Michael?”

“Oh, he’s the Professor.”

Madeline took charge right away. “Well, then, Ginger, go swish that cute butt under Michael’s nose and be ready to move.”

“That could be a problem.” Nikita said with another perky smile.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Michael says he’s going to kill me.”

Part 2

Madeline waved her hand and immediately Nikita was surrounded by armed operatives with their guns drawn. “We need to isolate Michael.”

Nikita edged her way through the blockade of operatives. “Madeline...I think I’m the only one who can get near him.”

“You’re also the one he wants to kill.”

Nikita nodded. “True. I’m also the one he thinks he’s in love with.” She waited for that last bit to sink in, while she tried to detach herself from any personal feelings she might have about the situation. Unfortunately, Nikita’s strengths as an operative did not lie in objectivity and detachment. But the circumstances were bizarre enough that she didn’t really feel physically threatened by Michael’s actions or emotionally upset by his delusional thinking.

“Look, he thinks he’s in love with Ginger, and he thinks I’m Ginger. So it has to be me.”

Madeline weighed the possibilities carefully and nodded in agreement. As Nikita approached Michael, Madeline suddenly called out to her, and she turned around, a questioning look on her face. “If this all goes horribly wrong, Nikita, this is one report I don’t want to write.”

Nikita shrugged philosophically. “If this all goes wrong, Madeline, there won’t be enough left of me or Michael to write a report about.”

Walter struggled to follow, but Madeline held him back with her arm across his body. “No, Walter, Nikita’s right. If anyone can reach Michael in this state, it’d be her.” She turned to Birkoff. “Go help Walter with the anti-psychotic medication. And Walter, you might consider adding a sedative to the mix. If we can’t stop the command hallucinations, we might still be able to bring Michael down that way.”

“You’re not talking lethal doses?” Walter looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“No, of course not. A threat is not the same as an actual assault.” She smiled patiently. “Now go get it set up and await my signal.”

************

Nikita smiled at Michael and it was somewhat disturbing to see him smile back. He didn’t look drugged or spaced out, just happy to see her. “Michael...” she winced when she saw him frown. “I mean...Professor,” she stammered. His face cleared, and she knew he was back in her sights.

Although Walter and Birkoff were some distance away, they could still see Michael and Nikita standing close together. Birkoff flipped a switch and suddenly they could hear what was going on. Walter stared at Birkoff. “You do that so easy. You must eavesdrop all the time.” Birkoff never even smiled. “It’s my life.” Walter said dryly, “You need to get one of your own, instead of borrowing everybody else’s.” Birkoff looked pensive. “Maybe...”

************

“Ginger!” Michael breathed ecstatically. Nikita found the strange glitter in Michael’s eyes a trifle unnerving. “Professor!” she squeaked in what she hoped was an appropriate tone.

He suddenly grabbed her and kissed her in a very un-Michael-like manner. Okay, Nikita thought, resisting the urge to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, this was getting surrealistic.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” That was better, they were back on more familiar ground, she thought. Even if he does think I’m a redheaded bimbo.

************

Walter muttered, “I still say, let’s shoot him full of CPZ and Ativan now and ask questions later.” Birkoff said, “I’m sure that Madeline will tell us to do just that any time now.”

“I hope you’re right.”

************

Nikita pulled gently on Michael’s arms to get him to move towards the corridor. When they passed Madeline, she hissed, “Nikita, what are you doing? It’s too dangerous for you to be alone with him!”

She shook her head. “He could take out most of Section from where he is right now, if I take him to his office, he can only get me!” Madeline admired Nikita’s bravery, but she thought the gesture was foolish. “He’ll kill you!”

“He loves me!”

Madeline knew further argument was futile. Nikita had made her choice.

Michael heard the last part of what Nikita said and echoed her words. “I love you.” No trace of the eerie smile anymore. But Nikita knew it was not Michael talking, despite the jump in her heart rate whenever he said those words.She touched his face, caressing his cheek, and he leaned into her hand, obviously enjoying the contact, but he showed no recognition of it being a familiar gesture between them. She sighed.

She opened the door to his office and led him inside. She leaned back against the door and locked it. When she turned back to Michael, she felt an anticipatory silence. He was waiting for something. “Are the voices telling you something now, Michael?” He nodded.

“They want me to kill you.” He said it completely impassively, no trace of emotion or conflict.

“Do you want to kill me?”

“No-o-o...I love you.” Now she wasn’t sure that it was not Michael talking. He shook his head and frowned.

Nevertheless, he drew his gun and Nikita grew nervous. “Michael...” He blinked as if waking up from a deep sleep. “Kita?”

His gun hand came up slowly and shakily. He looked at his hand as if it weren’t part of him. She saw fear in Michael’s eyes for the first time and realized that he might not be able to fight the command to kill her. “Michael, if you shoot me, they’ll come in here and kill you. I don’t want you to die.”

He clenched his teeth and fought the urge to shoot, which grew stronger and stronger with each passing second. “I-I don’t want to shoot you, Kita. Run!” He closed his eyes and concentrated. Sweat was starting to pour down his face now.

“I won’t run, Michael. I know you won’t shoot, I know you love me.” He winced. “I do love you, Kita. But I don’t know how much longer I can hold out against this...thing in my head...”

She came closer, slowly, hoping she was talking to Michael now, and not the voice in his head. “Michael, I trust you with my life...” Suddenly the room went dark, the gun went off, and the door burst open...in that order.

Part 3/End

When the lights came back on, Michael was on the floor, being held down by several brawny-looking operatives. His gun was on the floor, some distance away from him, as if it had been thrown or kicked there. Nikita was at the opposite end of the room, lying on her back, eyes closed. Whether she was dead or merely unconscious, no one knew yet.

Walter stalked inside almost angrily, holding a 5cc syringe filled with psychotropic drugs. He nodded to the operatives, and they exposed just enough of Michael’s butt so that Walter could administer the deep IM injection. Michael looked up blearily at Walter, but Walter, worried about Nikita, refused to meet his eyes. “I always knew you were gonna be trouble for my sugar!” he said under his breath, but he knew that Michael heard him. Michael’s eyes widened just a little in reaction and then he lay down on the floor, covering his face with his arms. If Nikita was dead, he hoped that whatever they gave him killed him.

Nikita moaned in pain, and Walter turned on his heel, forgetting Michael. “Sugar, are you okay? Where are you wounded?” He leaned over her anxiously, as if he really were the father Nikita sometimes fancied him to be. “I-I don’t think I am.”

He looked her over and realized it was true. Madeline entered, Birkoff close behind her. “What’s the situation, Walter?”

“Well, Michael has been thoroughly sedated, cold sonuva--” Madeline held up a hand and smiled tightly. “Please, spare us the commentary, Walter. I know what you think of Michael right now.”

“And Nikita?”

Walter snorted. “She’s not wounded at all, as far as I can see. No thanks to him over there.”

Birkoff asked, “So cutting the power did work, Walter?”

“Yep, lil buddy, when you said the voices were being transmitted through the program running in the computer mainframe, I realized there was another way to stop Michael. With the power off, the monitors shut down, and the transmission was interrupted.”

Nikita sat up, rubbing her ankle. “Yes, long enough for me kick the gun out of Michael’s hand.” She made a face. “I think I sprained my ankle hitting the gun, though.”

A muffled voice said, “Actually, you broke my wrist, Nikita. But I’m sure that no one here cares.”

Nikita stared at where the voice had apparently come from. “Michael? Did I hurt you?”

He rolled over, beginning to feel the effects of the sedation already. He held out his right wrist, which indeed looked broken. Walter whistled. “Wow, that is already swollen up like a cantaloupe. That’s my sugar,” he said proudly.

Michael grimaced at the pain. “Thanks for the sympathy.”

Madeline waved to the operatives, and indicated that they could now release Michael. “Birkoff, you found the virus responsible for all this?”

“Done, Madeline, already removed from the system. We shouldn’t have any more problems with, um, runaway cable transmissions.”

Michael blinked sleepily at Madeline. “Madeline? I’m never watching tv again. I swear.”

She smiled sweetly. “I know, dear. None of us are very fond of it right now.”

Walter snickered, then held a hand out to help Michael stand. “I’m sorry, Michael, I know it wasn’t exactly your fault.”

He managed a faint smile. “You just enjoyed giving me that shot a little too much, Walter.”

Walter laughed. “Well, yeah...I did.”

“I’ll take Michael to the medlab,” said Nikita. Madeline nodded. Birkoff glanced at Michael and left with Walter.

Nikita hobbled to a standing position, unconsciously favoring the injured ankle. She tried to lean on Michael, inadvertently touching his broken wrist, and he let out a yell. “Hey, watch out!” Nikita jumped back, almost falling, as the ankle gave way. She leaned on the desk with an obvious wince, and Michael struggled to keep his eyes open. “I’m so tired.”

“Well, they sedated you.”

“You sound happy about that.”

“Well, you were trying to kill me, Michael.”

“I’m glad you don’t have red hair, Kita.”

Nikita blinked. Michael under the influence of drugs was more interesting than Michael under the influence of electronic mind control. “You seemed to have the hots for Ginger, Michael.”

He smiled lazily, trying to point his finger at her and failing. “I dunno about that. It got all sort of mixed up in my head...you and Ginger, I mean.”

“Michael, I’m a bit confused. If you thought you loved Ginger, why did you want to kill her?”

“God, Kita, did you see her acting?” He made a ridiculous noise. “Enough said.”

She held Michael up as best she could, given the condition of her ankle, and he tried not to lean his entire weight on her. When they had hobbled into the elevator, the doors closed, and they headed for the medlab. “Michael?” He tried to focus on her face, but it kept slipping away from him. “When you said you loved me, you were delusional, right?”

He smiled enigmatically. “Maybe...”

He reached out with his good hand and touched her face, fondling her in much the same way that Nikita had done to him earlier. “Maybe not...” he whispered.

This story © Copyright 1999, Jade