The Doorkeeper's Mind

by E. L. Morrow

  “I think I can walk without being tested for public drunkenness.”

  “Before you go, what are your impressions?”

  “My senses were dulled. I had to work hard just to think and speak. He wants The General caught.”

  “You think he won’t kill him?”

  “If he dies it will be because he couldn’t stand the sensory deprivation. I don’t think I’d last a year. Seems like poetic justice for The General to experience what he imposed on so many others.”

  Marie stands and takes one faltering step away from the bench. Rudy is at her side ready to catch her. Standing tall she says, “I feel energy. Weakness and that draining lethargy is all gone. Let me try something.”

  She turns and steps back to her former seat. “Instantly the somberness washes over me. I understand. It’s not that I don’t experience his energy field; his is the opposite polarity from mine. I wonder if his energy is stronger closer to where he sat.”

  With this Marie steps around the bench toward the chair, Bluefoot had occupied. She begins to fall and reaches for the back of her seat to steady herself. Rudy sweeps her up in his arms and carries her to a grassy area eight feet away. As he lays her down he realizes: she’s not breathing. Danzella running toward them says, “Medical is on the way.” Without another word, they begin CPR.

  “Where am I? Why is everything so foggy? Who is telling me to ‘stay calm?’ I can’t see anyone.”

  “It’s me, Berry.”

  “Mother?”

  “Who else?”

  “Am I dead?”

  “You are in that in-between stage, but they won’t let you die.”

  “What are you doing here? How do I hear you?”

  “The letter. You picked up my energy field from my letter. After I had handed you to Allison, moments before I died, I asked Jamison to let me hold your letter one last time. I pressed it to my chest and willed my energy—my spirit to enter it. When you finished reading it, you held it to your heart and said you were just getting to know me … and now I was gone. But I wasn’t. That action and your pain—or love—or openness—or something else I don’t understand—maybe all put together focused my energy. I’ve been with you ever since.

  “Bluefoot’s energy is an opposite charge from yours. True for all his type—except those who are deranged—they are catatonic just like you are now. However, you can control your response to being in their energy field.

  “Remember when Phillip taught you how to read minds? Of course, you do. You will remember the part where you increased the distance between you and the mirror. Again, when you first started listening in on the thoughts of random people in a crowd. There was distance. It was like seeing something on an imaging screen, but not allowing it inside. You are so used to letting other’s emotions inside it’s unnatural for you to keep them out. But that is what you must do when you’re around those like Bluefoot—there are others—and you will be in contact with them.

  “In your thought reading practice, there were a couple of times when you envisioned yourself as being in the mirror. You then felt the touch of your body in the mirror with your eyes closed. That worked because you and the glass of the mirror are different polarities of energy. The way to retract a magnet is to turn the same polarity toward it—that’s what your body did. What appears as a coma is your body protecting you from the opposite polarity of Bluefoot’s energy.

  “Let me try to explain it better. Say you are a north-pole magnet, as is everyone else—except those distorted by the Invincibility Project, like Bluefoot—they are all south-poles magnetically. Usually, the two would attract and snap together. That is how ‘the Senator’ got most of his agreements.

  “But you fought against being pulled in—and it exhausted you. Once you no longer needed to hold yourself out of his energy swamp, you gave into your fatigue, and your body found a way to protect you. It put a shield around you—putting south-pole energy on the shield.

  “The problem is now you are back in a north magnetic world, and the shield is absorbing all efforts by others to get through to you. They think you are in a coma—any ‘wake-up’ procedure they perform could injure you. So now you need to wake up.”

  “Okay, how do I accomplish that? Normally I breathe deeply, open my eyes, look around, sit up …”

  “… And say Good Morning.”

  “No don’t try to sit up.” The voice comes from a 50-year-old male wearing a non-SOG doctor’s “lab-coat.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve had quite a shock. You had us worried. This man and woman found you and gave you CPR and called us. Do you remember anything?”

  “I had a wonderful dream; chatting with my mother. She said I needed to wake up, so I did. Where am I? This is not the hotel.” She glances to her right finding the familiar faces of Danzella, and Harris who is “dialing” his communicator.

  “I’m Dr. Gear. You are at Orlando’s Medical Services unit 84. You were brought here by ambulance.”

  The standard questions follow “What medications you are on … any street drugs … noticed any changes in…? What brings you to Orlando? How long are you staying?

  All medical questions are answered truthfully. All others with the cover story devised for such situations. The physician is satisfied and leaves to check on labs and other patients.

  After her security detail confirms she is all right and that the room is “bug-free” they tell her, “We lost Bluefoot. We probably never had him; we were locked in on a ghost signal. The vehicle appeared to turn off at a rest area and disappeared. Did you get a look at him?”

  “No. He wouldn’t let me turn around.”

  Harris hands Marie a sketch of a man’s face. There are no remarkable features: nose, eyes, chin, lips, ears, hair all are similar to tens of thousands of 40s, 50s, 60s or 70s Caucasian, Italian, Spanish, or Native American men.

  She asks, “I assume this is BF?”

  “Best I can remember. Of course, he wears a delimiter to scramble photographic images. By the way, are you wearing yours?”

  Marie points to the small amber colored earring in her left earlobe. Harris takes a moment to admire the miniaturized technology.

  Handing the drawing back, Marie says, “He appears similar to thousands of other men. He can be invisible in a crowd.”

  “I’m sure that is what he wants,” says Danzella as she puts away her communicator. “The package arrived at the hotel. Rudy confirms no booby traps or bugs.”

  Harris receives a call and hands his communicator to Marie. “A friend wants to talk to you.”

  The voice on the PCD says, “Good morning Dr. L.”

  Recognizing the voice, Marie responds, “Good afternoon Dr. T.”

  Their wording makes it clear they must speak in code because others might overhear the conversation, and the line is not as secure as they would like.

  Dr. Toronto says, “So you know the card game is postponed until tomorrow morning. Then you and I need to go to the beach together. Do you still have your transportation?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I’ll cancel mine, and we can go together.”

  “Fine. Does our railroad enthusiast know about the change?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll see you later?”

  “Of course.”

  Harris takes his Personal Communication Device back. The meaning of the conversation is clear to her attentive friends: Marie’s sub-group will finish its work in the morning, not tonight. It is already an hour past the stated start time. Marie will use her leased plane to take Dr. von Throne and some others to the next meeting. And Rudy is processing all the security changes.

  An hour later Marie is released to return to the hotel. Marie had convinced them to let her go back to the benches. “This is the only chance I’m going to have to try this defense against his energy drain. If it does not work, I will know immediately. You can pull me out if needed.”
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  Rudy and Dr. T join them near the bench. They walk slowly, so as not to disturb the matrix of Bluefoot’s remaining energies through the area. No impact.

  Marie narrates her movements. “First I will sit down as I had been before to determine if it still affects me. Already, I’m beginning to experience an energy drain … now I’m going to step out of the area.”

  Marie gets up, without assistance and steps three steps away. She lets her energy return to normal—about two minutes. “Now I’m going to try my defense. I may close my eyes, but don’t be concerned …” In half a minute, she says, “Now I’ll sit down … nothing …. Now I will stand up and walk around the bench to the place where I remember going weak …. I still see everything around me … I’m fine … I will stay here for two minutes, someone time it please.”

  After two minutes Rudy says, “Two minutes, talk to me.”

  “Nothing different. Bird and animal sounds are all around. Now I’ll turn around and walk toward the chair Ramies occupied … it’s five steps away … here’s one … two, still all is well … three … four … still functioning, five. Now I’m going to turn around and sit in his seat.”

  She sits, looks up and smiles at everyone. “I have a defense. Others like BF will not be so kind as to keep a distance, but that’ll be all right. Last test. I’m standing up … and taking a step away. Now … letting the shield down …” In a few seconds, her knees begin to buckle. “… And back up.” Marie stands for ten seconds … steps toward Danzella, who takes her hand like the two of them are preparing to dance the cotillion.

  Back in her room, she explains to Rudy and Dr. von Throne most of what happened during the time she appeared to be comatose. She omits the part about reading others’ thoughts. I’m not ready to talk about thought reading … not sure when that will be.

  Thirty-Five

  Miami

  The Raven’s Nest committee on “Doorkeeper Curriculum Review” completes its work by noon Saturday, and everyone heads for the airport. Marie, with Dr. von Throne at her side, pilots the aircraft leased to WEEL industries. The plane carries three passengers: Dr. Stanley, Dr. Edmonton, and Danzella.

  Meetings take place starting at 7:00 pm, April 9th and the entire next day. Negotiation for a process and timeline to bring eight major Florida cities into the Unified Structured Economy are finalized. Individual city/county councils will take official action in the next 60 days, and a public vote will occur on the first Tuesday of August.

  Marie’s presence was requested because of the public session set for Monday, April 11th. People want to hear from the founder of the Stop-the-Lies movement. Dr. von Throne wants Marie to learn the details of the negotiations, because, “You may need to defend the process as we get closer to the referendum of 2099.”

  First, there is an hour-long presentation about the changeover and options for those choosing not to be part of The Plan’s economy. Marie has no role in this presentation, so she spends the time reading energy patterns from the audience. Seventy percent are already in favor; another fifteen to twenty percent hope to be convinced; the remaining individuals are looking for ammunition against The Plan. But one person in the third row, fourth seat from the aisle, possesses unusually hostile energy focusing mostly on Marie.

  Slipping her communicator from an outside pocket, Marie takes a picture of the man. She sends it to Rudy with a note indicating his location and her perceptions.

  Time to practice my thought reading on this guy. Okay, he prepared questions to ask me in the hope of making me look small to the crowd. There is something more … what is it? Something to do with explosives in his room; he plans to follow us and blow up the hotel where we stay.

  Marie texts Rudy:

  Subject jittery. Something about explosives.

  Rudy responds:

  Name: Marcus Rammer. Suspected associate of G. Anything else?

  Rudy is asking for more about his activities. I’ll go back to energy tracking to see where he’s been. Following him back … West Range Motel … white van in parking lot … full of explosives. Detonators are in his room … B11. What else? He came in yesterday … Grog Institute jet … landed at Ft. Lauderdale, the van was on the plane.

  Back a few more days. He was in a cabin in Maine with The General. When? Not sure … a week or less. I can’t reach further back.

  Marie messages what she has learned to Rudy. He texts,

  We’re on it.

  Rudy knows I can read energy trails; he will involve the rest of the security detail without telling them how I get my info. They’ll confirm it, and he’ll keep me posted.

  When question and comment time comes, the group is reminded that the founder of Stop-the-Lies will be taking questions after any process questions. After ten minutes Marie is invited to the podium.

  Beginning with a few comments, she addresses the difference having Doorkeepers can make for the safety and comfort of citizens. The first four questions are ones she has come to expect from her presentations in other cities. Then the antagonist raises his hand and is acknowledged.

  He stands, glances at the stage, but turns to address the gathering. “Thank you. I realize that everyone on the stage this evening has a vested interest in our support of these changes; providing job security for them. However, some of us wonder if all the stress such a changeover would require is worth the results.

  “Now, I don’t mean to dwell on weakness, but I read a report involving the death of an officer while following your instructions.”

  He turns back to address Marie, “I can’t begin to imagine how that has affected you and all other door openers. I’m sure even you don’t know how you will react the next time you’re faced with a life-threatening situation.

  “I also understand from the report, that the weapon used was developed at great expense, without anyone in the economy, as you call yourselves, getting wind of it. So, my question is: how can we be sure someone else is not, at this very moment, developing another weapon to make the Planned Economy, defunct?”

  Nicely done. Sowing seeds of doubt about everyone on the stage. Ending with a question, he’s sure I can’t answer. I should be ashamed of how much I’m enjoying trapping him with his own words.

  Marie glances at her communicator finding the confirmation she expected. To the crowd she appears to be stalling—her desired effect. Everyone is focusing on her next words.

  Looking directly at the questioner she says, “First of all, let me assure you that no one on this stage claims to be the economy. We all participate in the economy, sharing its benefits and responsibilities. Saying otherwise would be like the Norfolk pine in that corner claiming to be ‘the forest.’

  “Secondly, the weapon you speak of was developed at the cost of millions, using funds stolen from the taxpayers.”

  He interrupts, “And another thing. How can we expect the economy to take care of us, if it can’t keep track of how money is used?”

  “There is so much wrong with your statement that I have to ask your name. You don’t have to tell us, but the media will want to know later.” Now I’m appealing to his vanity. He may think I’m admitting defeat.

  “Of course, I’ll tell you. My name is Mercer, Edwin Mercer.”

  “Okay, if that’s who you want to be today.” Now he wonders what I’ve learned.

  “Well Ed, let’s talk about the incident. My first responsibility is to my residents. There were 45 people in homes backed up to a courtyard where a killer had a dangerous weapon. So, I needed to separate the shooter from his weapon before he used it on others. How that was accomplished is classified; we may need to do something similar another time. Two inquiries praised the work of everyone involved as being effective, efficient and collaborative.

  “You imply that I might not be up to the task when another life-threatening situation occurs. Let me assure the people of Florida, that I did respond as needed, without hesitation, to the next attempt to kill me and several others. I was able to prev
ent further loss of life.” Wide-eyed glances and whispered questions take place among audience members. This is news to everyone.

  “You also implied there might be insufficient benefits to adopting the Structured Cities Model. I can give you one example of how being structured is beneficial.”

  Marie shifts her attention to the whole room—away from the questioner. “You see if we were in a Structured City everyone would be wearing a Smart Outer Garment, like those of us on the stage. Then if someone comes from another state or country, security accesses information about his or her arrival. So, if someone arrives in, say a military-style transport plane, with let’s say a van loaded with explosives—Security would know that.”

  “But since we are in an Unstructured State, it becomes harder to find those things out. However, anytime a group of us from such an area travels, a small security detail comes along.

  “So, Mr. Mercer, when you ask if someone is developing another weapon, I suggest you can answer that better than any of us. Since you work for the man who received all those taxpayer funds and built the first weapon.

  “Now, you need to go with the security person coming down the aisle. They want to ask some questions about the explosives in the van at your hotel, and the detonators in your room.”

  What most people in the audience see and hear in the next five seconds is:

  1. A man in the third row stands and falls forward—with his arms stretching out in front of him—over people in the first two rows. Some thought, “he’s having a medical emergency.”

  2. Three shots ring out, with sounds of small explosions following each.

  3. A sound like the sizzle of frying bacon, followed by a loud scream.

  A few people near the front hear the man who stood say to Marie: “You’re dead.” Over the screaming, those in the last few rows could make out the clatter of an object (rifle) hitting the floor.

  What those on the stage observe: