The Doorkeeper's Mind

by E. L. Morrow

  “I don’t think so,” Marie says as she turns off the recorder and is shocked by what felt like an electrical charge traveling from the device to Duncan’s neck. He cried out at the same instant.

  While listening to The General’s ranting, Marie set her PCD to record. This action also alerted her Personal Assistant. Next, she opens an access panel under the dashboard and disables her instructor’s controls. She is also turning gradually back toward Eisenhower Airport near Wichita.

  Laying her finger over three keys on her communicator and holding them for three seconds activates Marie’s “speed send network.”

  The first voice is her PA’s “I contacted your network; they have been listening.”

  Marie says, “I am heading back to the airport. Dr. Norris, I have reason to believe that Duncan Hanger’s wife and two male children, along with two other women and one female child, are being held captive together. They are not wearing SOG’s. They can be identified using the satellite scanners.”

  “I don’t know how to use the ‘sat-scans.’”

  Rudy says, “I’ll walk you through it.”

  PA says, “Rudy you need to stay with Marie. I will assist Dr. Norris.”

  Marie calls the tower, “This is Training Flight 1761, we have a medical emergency, returning to airport.”

  “You can’t land here.”

  “I assure you, I can land this plane.”

  “No, I mean you can’t land here.”

  In that instant, Marie picks up the speaker’s energy and thoughts. The second air traffic controller is bound and gagged. He’s thinking of two gunmen on the roof, with what looks like bazookas. She now knows this air traffic controller’s mate and daughter are two of the six captives.

  “Understood,” is all she says before turning the radio off. “Friend, tell Dr. N that one of the women and daughter is the tower officer’s family.”

  “Reason to believe again?”

  “Affirmative. Everyone, our fuel is reduced so we would get only halfway to our destination. I remember a landing strip northeast of the shelter; I’ll need to use the air currents over the shelter to make the fumes stretch to get us there. The shelter defenses must be neutralized so we can get over. I’m three and a half minutes away.”

  Wessel says, “I’m on it.”

  On her communicator screen is a message:

  There is an extra transmission coming from the seat next to you. R

  “Understood.”

  Grabbing her overnight bag from behind her seat, Marie removes a penknife and first aid kit and retrieves a pair of glasses allowing her to view active electronic signals.”

  “Duncan, did they put something in your neck?”

  “Yeah… locator. So, I couldn’t… run.” His speech is slow, and his eyes are unresponsive.

  Marie takes the small blade, finds and removes a small receiver with an ampule attached. This device picked up all our conversation, and it is feeding the toxin. Half the poison remains, maybe I can keep him alive.

  A bandage is applied to his neck to stop the bleeding. The transmitter is placed in a plastic bag, put in the center of Marie’s carryon, and tossed to the back of the plane.

  Rudy reports the extra transmission stopped.

  “Duncan Hanger, you stay alive. Breathe and stay awake. That’s your job.”

  Marie removes the circuits that transmit the plane’s location. To anyone watching on radar, it would appear the aircraft just crashed.

  Wessel’s voice comes over the communicator, “Shelter defenses are off.”

  Using the air currents over the shelter saved just enough fuel to make it to the landing strip. The right engine fails a mile out. She is ready, adjusting approach to the landing strip. The second one quits as they reach the end of the runway. Stopping a powerless aircraft is a bit tricky but turning to the side does the trick.

  Marie is out with D Hanger on the ground in the shade. He stops breathing as she carries him down the steps. CPR is administered. The medical unit arrives and takes over after two minutes.

  Because of the removal of the toxin ampule, Medical personnel quickly analyze and administer the antidote with the highest potential. Duncan Hanger is treated at the scene for 45 minutes before transferring him to the University Medical Center.

  Twenty-Five

  Almost Betrayed

  Wichita

  2094-11-13, Saturday, 8:00 pm

  The Counseling Center is nearly empty at this hour. After the preliminary greetings, Marie takes 20 minutes to give her counselor every detail of the day’s events. Each word is spoken factually with no emotions or interpretation.

  When the recitation is complete Ava says, “You’ve never seemed so …”

  “Depressed.”

  “I was going to say somber. Is despondent the better word?”

  “Depression seems like the right term. And no, I’m not suicidal. I’ll not give up, but for the moment, I’m down.”

  “Ever experienced this before?”

  “No … well once, after my Foster Father died—I called him ‘Dad.’”

  “How old were you?”

  “Seven.”

  “How long did that bout of discouragement last?”

  “A few days … perhaps a week. I still missed him for years.”

  “Do you remember what helped you get over your feeling low then?”

  “Well, we had a memorial service. And of course, I had school. The woman who raised me, I call her ‘mother’—we took a trip that summer to where he died. He was out of the country. It was a car crash—went over a cliff—the car burned. There was barely enough of his body left for identification.

  “The funeral started the closure process—the trip finished it. We later found out the brakes had been tampered with—he was murdered. My primary emotion became anger. That replaced my despondency with a drive for justice.”

  “Do you know who was responsible?”

  “We think so, but we can’t prove it. Dad was working on a medication that would replace several that were big moneymakers for some giant companies. We think they hired someone to ‘remove him.’”

  “Does talking about this increase your depression?”

  “No. Others are working on bringing those responsible to justice. I’ll be made aware when something develops—until then; I don’t think about it—well not often.”

  The counselor draws parallels between Marie’s past depression brought on by grief, and her current situation. Gradually Marie articulates a way forward. “I will speak with each of the hostages. And attend Mr. Fredrick Bird’s memorial service. He was my instructor, who refused to cooperate in my death.”

  All this is fine, Marie thinks, but I still feel responsible for not picking up on his energy earlier.

  Eva says, “You seem to be less than satisfied.”

  “I can’t help thinking I could’ve prevented the whole thing. Except for Mr. Bird’s death.”

  “But your quick thinking saved at least eight people.”

  “You’re right. But I’m still mad at myself.”

  “Why? What could you have done differently?”

  “Pay better attention. I was anticipating seeing my friends in Kansas City. Hoping to discover if the friendships are more than … what? Only study buddies. Because my plans occupied my attention, I missed the signs.”

  “When you got into the plane, you knew there was something wrong, and you took action. The situation would paralyze most people. But you conquered obstacle after obstacle and gave everyone the best chance. You impose high standards on yourself but don’t you think you’re too hard on yourself?”

  “You don’t understand…. To understand me, you need to know this sometime—why not now?”

  The next several minutes are spent telling Ava about energy trails, and how Marie reads them. She demonstrates by moving to a different part of the room; picking up on the hostile energy of a couple bic
kering with one another. Enough detail is relayed to be convincing.

  Ava asks, “Do you do that everywhere you go?”

  “No. Before I started employing the energy reading, I developed an ethic. I can ‘turn it off.’ There are no-read-zones, like here, or anytime I’m in public—except as it relates to safety, like someone trying to overhear my conversation, or following me. Never here—except this demonstration.”

  As I talk about this part of my life, I realize I’m becoming less discouraged. Note for future reference: when depressed, I miss the energy fields around me. Now that I am coming out of it, I’m aware of Ava’s care for me. Her concern is personal as well as professional.

  Ava promises to call tomorrow. They embrace, and Marie starts for the door.

  Now I can go home and call Mother. Wait, what’s this intention I pick up from Ava?

  Marie whirls and shouts, “No! Don’t touch that computer! Who are you going to tell about me?”

  Ava gasps. Her face registers shock. She steps back from her desk, raising her hands out in front of her. Meanwhile, Marie taps her chest, below her left shoulder, to activate her communicator and says, “Friend, seal this space, call Rudy; Danzella I need you.”

  The words are barely out of her mouth before her PSO (Private Security Officer) is through the door, stunner out, back to the wall, surveying the room. Her weapon is leveled at Ava. Danzella awaits further instructions.

  “This is … for your … protection.” Ava finally gets out.

  “Do I look like I need protecting?”

  “Marie … I’m your friend; I would never do anything to harm you.”

  “Who were you going to tell?”

  “How did you…?”

  “Never mind. Answer me!”

  “Standing Order 12 from the Counseling Guidance Committee.”

  “Show me.”

  “I’ll need to use the computer….”

  Marie’s personal assistant, speaks, “I have it on your PCD. Electronic seal complete.”

  Marie reads the document. It instructs counselors to report individuals with abilities, which “… fall outside the norms …” for humans to a special website. The examples of what to look for include the ability to know what happened somewhere else, starting fires “with their minds,” or moving objects without touching them. It also says there is research into their makeup and additional protection is provided.

  Marie asks, “Rudy are you seeing this?”

  “Yes, I’ll check the website.”

  Marie asks, “Ava, did you ever report someone to this site?”

  “Yes. My last week in Pittsburg.”

  “Tell me.”

  “It’s confidential.”

  “This is life or death—yours and mine included—tell me!”

  “A twelve-year-old girl. I had worked with her for a few months … probably three. Smart, having a tough time at school. Kids bullied her. Then she told me, she hit a child who wouldn’t leave her alone. As we talked, I learned she hit him with a horseshoe that was on the classroom wall. She made it fall when he was standing under it.

  “I thought it was a coincidence and she was indulging in magical thinking common to children. Then she made a book move from my desk to a bookcase two-feet away. She just looked and made it move, seemingly with her eyes.

  “I listed her. The next day my mate was offered the job here and we had to make a quick relocation. I often wonder about her.”

  “Was her name Melinda Catherin Certain?” asks Rudy.

  Ava says, “Yes. How did you know?”

  “Unsolved crime file. The week you moved to Wichita, a family of four were murdered. The scene was made to look like a drug-related vendetta. Sorry to be the one to tell you.”

  Ava crumples on the windowsill behind her desk. The other women come to her aid with water and tissues. The tears are flowing freely from Ava and Marie.

  Ava says, “I didn’t know she was in such danger.” Marie perceives Ava thinks the killers acted in spite of her reporting, not because of it.

  Rudy says, “The website has an algorithm that sends the report to some other sources and then erases all traces. The site is checked every few minutes for new data. I can trace the destination by creating a bogus report on a non-existent individual. I’ll set it up with some of my friends so the address will be one of theirs, and they will be ready for whoever comes for them.”

  Ava now understands that her report is what precipitated the violent acts against that family. Counselee and PSO transform into comforters. In the process, the need for complete confidentiality is reaffirmed.

  After 20 minutes Rudy reports, “Website sends to several different initial drop points. I contacted the Counseling Sector’s Public Face. We are going to try to find where the reports end up. Then the general order will probably be rescinded. However, until then none of us can talk to anyone about this.

  All three women say, “Understood,” in unison.

  It is after 10:00 pm when they are ready to leave. Security 23 sent an Officer to take them home.

  “Security 218 at your service.” He presents his ID Card to Danzella who scans it and his sleeve with a handheld device. Satisfied she removes another device and scans the pod.

  Once inside Danzella says, “I think we should take Ava home first. Marie and I will go to her place.”

  Marie thinks, Smart. She plans to spend the night at my place. Somehow, I find her presence comforting.

  Ava’s mate is told about one of her former clients meeting a violent end. He will commiserate with her without needing more details.

  Twenty-Six

  Normal?

  Wichita

  2094-11-14, Sunday, 6:30 am

  Danzella spends the night on Marie’s couch and has breakfast ready at 6:30 am.

  “Did you sleep well?” she asks.

  “I talked with Mother, then spent some time catching up on things at WEEL. I plan to go to church, then to the Medical Center to check on Duncan Hanger, and maybe the women and children who were captives.”

  “Will you go to worship with Vivi?”

  “Probably. I need to call her. She thinks I’m in KC.”

  “Will you tell her what’s going on?”

  “Only about the flight thing. I won’t tell anyone at church. Friend, what does the public know about yesterday’s events?”

  “Local news reports a pilot made an emergency landing at an agricultural strip in the Flint Hills. No details are available regarding the nature of the emergency.”

  Later Marie journals about her Sunday.

  Journal Section: Events

  Date: Sunday, November 14, 2094.

  Worship was relaxing. My talk with Vivi helped me come one more step out of my depression. I realize when I’m depressed talking it out helps my spirit to accept what happened. Writing about it seem to objectify the facts.

  At the Hospital, I learned Duncan Hanger will live, but they cannot rule out severe brain damage. My conversation with his mate, Carissa, was unsettling. From her energy pattern, I picked up a distrust of me. Her words said the opposite—she apologized for his behavior and thanked me for trying to save him. After five minutes I still couldn’t understand what she had against me.

  So, I moved into reading her thoughts. Her kidnapper was in her home when she returned from the pool. Demanding to know how he got in, he told her, “The doorkeeper let me in. Oh, you don’t get it … they’re all in it.” Then he raped her.

  Her thoughts hit me like a slap. I must have flinched or something, because Carissa asked, “What?” I said, “It just occurred to me that the kidnapper may have done something other than take you away.”

  She hesitated. I asked, “Did you tell Security?”

  Still unresponsive she looked down and away from me. I said, “You can tell me. They went to a lot of trouble to try to kill me, so I can only imagine what lengths they might take to make that poss
ible.”

  She slowly told me the whole cruel story. Getting home about 4:00 pm she went for a swim, returning after 45 minutes. She had blocked her door open so she would not need a keycard. (A detail she had forgotten until I asked). He was in her apartment, came into her bathroom while she was showering, and forced himself on her. The captor brought his “nephew” who seemed “drug-addled” (her words). When her children came home, at 5:30, the nephew took them into a different room to ‘play games.’

  She was told her kids would be harmed unless she cooperated. Anyway, they convinced Duncan to follow their plan, or unspeakable things would happen to his family. He agreed reluctantly.

  As soon as she told me “… that Keepers are involved …” I called Dr. Norris. He found two substitute pool maintenance staff had entered the courtyard and remained until after 6:30 pm. No unauthorized openings of the Hangers’ residence were recorded, but their entrance to the pool area was blocked open part of the same hours. We concluded the kidnappers entered posing as pool service people.

  When I left her, she agreed to talk to Detective 93, Lisa. We set it up. She now understands Door Services would gain nothing by overthrowing The Plan.

  I had a brief conversation with Frances Bird, my instructor’s widow. His refusal to participate in my death resulted in his murder. I expected a lukewarm reception from her, but she said he loved flying and would never do anything unethical. I apologized for putting him in harm’s way. She absolved me of blame and invited me to the service at the training center Wednesday at 1:00 pm. I promised to attend. Dr. Norris already granted the time.

  Talking to the other kidnap victims must wait until tomorrow. They are busy with counseling. Makes sense; children are involved.

  In the next several days it becomes clear that the attempt on Marie’s life had been a major operation. The planning began as soon as Marie signed up for flight instruction. The victims were spied upon for weeks.

  As Marie recovers from her depression, she takes an active role in assuring, counseling and comforting all involved. The whole experience is still shadowed from public scrutiny, however; all involved gain respect for Marie, her levelheaded action, and compassion.