," she confessed, waiting for the storm clouds to appear.Where Diane had been a godsend of Discipline and Cooperation to the colony, her masculine antithesis, Joey Fields, a gangly walking hormone of a teenage boy, was the bane of Trish's existence. He was the son of a press secretary, weasel-like in face and disposition, but coddled by Madeline's notion of keeping the true males healthy and happy. This opinion, lead to the first open fracture within the human hive, a fierce disagreement between the Queen and her Warrior Chief..."Then I'd better do damage control then," Trish sighed, her fingers lightly touching the young woman's shoulder. "Joyce'll spell you in about fifteen minutes, OK? "Diane nodded gratefully with such a sweet smile that the Colonel felt a soft motherly ache. But such moments of sympathy were fleeting, the flow of good feelings vanishing at once as Trish entered the caves...The short narrow tunnel, well hid behind strategically arranged brush, lead into a common. ‘Breathe, Langdon!’ She could feel her breath coming in short panicked gasps, but she couldn’t control it. Her head swam and she clenched her eyes shut as an oxygen mask pressed over her nose and mouth. She couldn’t get enough air, she felt that she was suffocating. The panic set in and she was hyperventilating. ‘Langdon!’ the doctor barked. When she didn’t respond, he shot a nervous glance to Connor. ‘She’s going to hurt herself, I have to sedate her.’ Connor gripped Langdon’s shoulders, ‘Do it.’ Langdon felt the rush of narcotic enter her system and everything went from fuzzy to black. Her body slumped on the bed and her breathing slowly deepened into a gentle rhythm. The doctor pressed a stethoscope to her chest, listening carefully for a few moments. He wrapped the steth around his neck with a sigh. ‘Let me guess, you two weren’t dating in June of oh-seven.’ A wry smile touched Connor’s lips. ‘No, we didn’t start dating until after that Christmas.’ ‘Sorry, man. I should have.
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