The Doorkeeper's Mind

by E. L. Morrow

  That was the kind of fear I’m having today, because I did not check the unauthorized exit. Everything that happened to them is my fault.

  But Marie understands my guilt and fear. She ignored it and focused on finding them. What she did with the robot-like movements and her signaling the attack—I did as she told me, but had no idea why.

  Now she tells us she can listen in on our thoughts. It seems unbelievable, but she did it. And she saved four lives.

  I don’t know if I’m in trouble—I probably should be—I let them down. There I said it—I deserve whatever punishment is handed to me. Now perhaps, I can write up the experience….

  The next morning everyone is again checked for any residue. All are dismissed after breakfast except Marie and Lexie. Counseling appointments for the same day are secured.

  When they are alone, Lexie asks Marie, “How much trouble am I in?”

  “Why would you be in trouble?”

  “I missed the unauthorized exit of Vivi’s nephews.”

  “It was prom night. Friend, and Dr. Norris found 86 unauthorized exits. None of the others were problematic. If you had checked, what would you have found?”

  “A limo with the boys leaving. I could have followed to see if they went to the dance.”

  “What would make you suspect they should be followed? Unlike pods there is no audio in that vehicle, so you couldn’t listen to what transpired in the car.”

  “Well … they were anxious … I would’ve picked up the non-verbal cues.”

  “Yes, you would. Think about it. Two guys going to the prom exhibiting anxiety. They’re expecting sex with the young women they plan to mate—if they weren’t nervous they wouldn’t be human.”

  “I should’ve known.”

  “Why? Because I would? Do you read energy trails or thoughts? This kidnapping was carefully planned so no one would suspect until it was too late.

  “We have an advantage, as long as I can do what I do, and we can keep my abilities from the detractors.”

  “You mean, I’m not at fault?”

  “No, Lexie. You performed admirably, particularly after I called you over. Without you, the four captives would’ve been murdered, and I would be dead from the stunning.” It begins to sink in for Lexie that she is just as responsible for the lives saved as Marie.

  The last two are discharged at about noon, following another inspection and the fitting of their new hair.

  Thirty-Nine

  Dr. Andrew Mark Winder

  Allison Ward calls Dr. Benjamin Stevens, one of the few remaining contacts from HMP—the Human Maturity Project. Well into his 90’s, he’s been forced to give up active work on the project.

  Two issues contributed to this decision. First, he is too well known: the detractors followed, bugged, harassed and threatened him. He cannot risk being seen with any former researcher, parent, or Project Offspring, for fear of putting them in danger.

  The second factor is his energy level. He no longer possesses the stamina to make the trips while eluding his tails.

  Dr. Stevens still helps collate data sent from follow-up sessions and is a source of information.

  A secure line and signal scrambler convince Allison to risk contact. She tells him about the situation regarding “a former client” who after being shocked with a stunning weapon is no longer in possession of her previous paranormal capacity. Without the use of names, places, or other identifiers the picture emerges.

  Dr. Stevens says, “Stunner shock can result in dilatory effects on certain ‘susceptible’ ganglia in the elastic brain. You need to talk to a Developmental Brain Specialist. I know of five who are working in this area. Only one is on this continent. You may want to read his paper on ‘adaptive neuro-ganglia inceptors’ before talking to him.”

  After a few more minutes of obscure conversation, Allison can find the name. Code names identify various listings of medical specialists.

  After reading his paper, Allison is ready to act. She realizes, “This is the first time I contacted someone before Rudy’s vetting of him. I hope I’m not making a mistake. Ben knows him, I think.”

  After a brilliant residency, Dr. Andy Winder took a two-year leave of absence. He spent the time in Switzerland where his grandmother chose to live out her final years.

  Evolutionary Brain Science is his field because of his Grandmother. As a youngster, he noticed she knew things that defied explanation. He spent two summers with her, while his parents took intensive courses.

  His mother, Anita, was an expert in bone diseases; his father, Mark, was a world-renowned Prenatal Surgeon, specializing in development. Both were near the top of their respective fields. Andy learned from them, but his father’s mother fascinated him.

  She was a teacher of Philosophy, Ethics, and Religion. Grandma L, as she was called, always posed a question for her only grandson. Every morning at breakfast she would ask the question. After supper, he would deliver his response, and they would discuss it.

  Forty-years later he still remembers some of her questions. One he can never get out of his mind from long ago is: “Humans plumb the depths of the oceans, and find there a species that is far superior to us in every way: intellectually, socially, artistically, and scientifically. Furthermore, these creatures possess the understanding of the creation of the universe, the healing of all diseases, and the answers to life, death and all things. They invite people to come, learn from them, and live in the water. They will teach them to breathe underwater. All that’s needed is giving up living on land. What would humans do? And what would you do?”

  There are no wrong answers. But whatever answer one gives will be questioned, until you either improve or affirm it as your “best answer at this moment.”

  Grandmother L could predict when the phone was going to ring. One summer they played card games after supper, before the answer time. She would occasionally delay dealing a hand, stand and move toward the phone; it would sound when she was one step away. She also knew who was calling. She would answer calling them by name. She did not need Caller ID.

  He asked her, “How can you do that?”

  She answered, “Oh, it’s just the way my brain works.” In further questioning, she said only once, “… there are extra cells in my brain—they found something different to make themselves useful.”

  Grandma saw things impossible to view. The two of them would be on one side of the house, and Grandma L would tell him how many birds were on the ledge on the opposite side. She also told the species, colors, and their positions along the ledge. Andy would check, and she was never wrong.

  That was amazing, but the spookiest thing Grandma L did involved Andy’s father. The only time they ever missed answer time she suggested Andy get ready for bed.

  “Grandma, what about answer time?”

  “I’m afraid we must delay until tomorrow. Your father experienced a big disappointment a few minutes ago; I need to talk to him. It will probably take several hours. We’ll do the answer tomorrow.”

  Searching for the spiritual connections and brain function is what drove Dr. Winder into his field. In the two years he spent with Grandma L, she made him promise to take her brain for analysis after her death. She also told him what he should look for, and where. He reluctantly agreed.

  Grandma L died in a hospital. After checking herself in, she told the admitting nurse, “An aneurysm in my abdomen will rupture in about three days. My death will take about three hours; it will be peaceful.” She was so confident the staff assumed her doctor had sent her—but no one referred her. They scanned her abdomen and found nothing out of the ordinary.

  A psychiatric evaluation was ordered. A Psych Resident was assigned to interview Grandma L. Her back was toward the door as he entered. She told him his name and why he was there before he could speak a word. She also told him the patient he had been evaluating “… suffers from a brain tumor, not psychosis. They think I’m ‘off in the head�
� because they did not find the abnormality in my belly. If they look now, it’s there. I suggest we waste no more of each other’s time. You have work to do, and I need to say many things to my family.” So, she called her family members in individually. Each one was told things about their life, eliciting a promise not to tell the others until “their thing” occurred.

  Dr. Andrew Winder was summoned last, by his grandmother. He remembers her message like it was yesterday. “Once you think you have reached the height of your career, many will reject your findings. You will meet an older woman doctor whose initials are the same as yours. Her pre-mated name begins with an F. She holds at least one Nobel Prize and will bring you the case that breaks your field wide open. AFW will introduce you to a patient with remarkable abilities—far greater than mine. Something is interrupting her progress, and they need your expertise to put her back on track. If you succeed, and you must, human life will make its next evolutionary jump. If you fail, people will again turn to war and greed, then a major opportunity will be lost. Such a window will not come again for 150 years.

  “Listen, this is most important. You can never tell who she is, what you learned, or both you and she will be killed. But what you learn from her, and about her will explode your field.

  “I see you’re skeptical. So, if doubts remain, ask the doctor the patient’s IQ. The answer will convince you.”

  Grandma L’s body was sent to a research group called Progressive Advancement Postmortem Analysis or PAPA for short. Andy later learned the attendants from PAPA arrived within minutes of her death before anyone even had time to call.

  The lab pick-up team waited patiently as the family spent their last moments with Grandma L. They told everyone, “This will be the last time you will see her. A cryogenic chamber is prepared so her body can be kept indefinitely for study.”

  The day after her death Dr. Winder was permitted access to PAPA’s lab, to study her brain. Someone picked him up and brought him, but the location remained secret. He was a bit leery but trusted his grandmother’s choices.

  The analysis put him on the path of a whole new field of neuroscience. In this specialty, he looks for new areas of the brain. Some particularize to create new areas of consciousness.

  He discovered that some people, including his grandmother, have extra brain function centers. Adaptations similar to what a brain does after the loss of sight, increasing the other senses to compensate for the diminished one in part.

  However, in these situations the new areas take on tasks previously not assigned to the brain, like the distance seeing, and ability to predict happenings before they occur.

  To Winder’s surprise and delight, the research center had functional analysis data from his grandmother’s lifetime. It showed what areas of the brain were doing when she engaged in various extra-sensory activities.

  He learned his grandmother possessed three additional distinct activity centers in her brain not found in most people. His paper is based largely on his research on his grandmother and three others the PAPA labs gave him access to study.

  Also, through PAPA he learned of four other researchers around the world, doing similar work. The five began regularly collaborating.

  When it came time to publish, it was decided that Dr. Winder should be the author. His personal connection played a significant part in the decision. His colleagues requested no acknowledgment because of the uncertainty about the response of the medical community and the general population.

  Winder was willing to take the point or become the target. His colleagues supported him, but each had a political or family reason why they should not take the public risk.

  Once the paper was published, he was called everything but smart. He discovered how petty scientists could be. Five percent of those responding found the study fascinating or showing promise. Thirty percent said it was “interesting, but offered no practical advancement to the field.” Forty-five percent noted minor problems with the research methodology. Also, within that group were those who found the study “more anecdotal than pure science.” The remaining twenty percent either dismissed the study as unimportant or directly attacked the idea of any person possessing mental capabilities outside the norm for humanity.

  Under-valued and angry, Dr. Winder is discouraged and despondent. Only his colleagues still believe in the mission. They may be believers, but none of them will stand with him, or publicly support his thesis. After a day of feeling especially sorry for himself, at the end of a week of nothing but abuse, he spent an evening of trying to drown his sorrows.

  His communicator sounds.

  “Ellow.”

  “I hope this isn’t a bad time.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Is this Dr. Andrew Winder.”

  “Oh, you read my paper?”

  “As a matter of fact, I have.”

  “So, you called to tell me how bad my research is, or how stupid my study is? Is that it?”

  “On the contrary, I think such work is essential.”

  “But of no practical use to anybody? Right?”

  “Dr. Winder, I am a research scientist, and I need your help.”

  “So, who are you?”

  “For security reasons, I’d rather not say on an unsecured line. I will tell you; our initials are the same.”

  “… Would your middle initial be an F?”

  “I’m afraid this is a mistake.”

  “No. Please, don’t hang up. I’ve been drinking, and I’m behaving badly. Please just tell me.”

  “I’m uncomfortable answering your question.”

  “Let me try a different tack. My grandmother said someone would call whose initials are the same as mine, with an F for a pre-mated name, and … that person would ask for my help with a patient. Is that right?”

  “Former patient.”

  “She said if I help you, it will make my career even though nobody can know the specifics. If I don’t, it’ll be 150 years before we get another chance like this.”

  “Are you home?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m going to hang up now. In about an hour a friend will bring you a package, and show you how to use it. Then I’ll call you back.”

  “Oh, please don’t ….”

  “Will you be there for an hour?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will call back.”

  Forty

  Depressed Again

  Wichita

  2095-05-30, Monday, 5:20 am CDT

  By prior arrangement, the four women sleep at Marie’s. Vivi and Marie in her bed with Danzella and Lexie sharing the sofa-bed. Rudy and Dr. Norris slept at Danzella’s across the street. For Marie, not being up before five am is sleeping in.

  Our little group has bonded during this ordeal. I can eavesdrop on people’s thoughts, even without my ability to read energy trails. Vivi’s mind is full of awful thoughts about what could have happened. She’s still worrying about the kids. In the back of her mind she is considering the need to give up her work on adjusting economic factors. Now that the detractors identified her, she’s at risk and puts everyone in her department at risk.

  Lexie is finally relaxing. She’s pleased with herself—still confused about my abilities. So am I.

  Danzella’s ready to trust me more. There is a dark story in her past. It’s weighing her down. I hope she’ll share it.

  Without my trail reading talent I can’t interpret people’s emotions, or moods so I can’t guess their next action.

  Marie’s thoughts are interrupted by Friend.

  “Good morning Marie. I see by the biosensors that you are awake. There is a call from Allison. Do you wish to take it?”

  “I’ll take it on my communicator. Let Vivi sleep.”

  Vivi removes her arm from Marie’s middle and says, “It’s all right. I need to wake up anyway.”

  I didn’t realize we were entangled. I remember now asking Vivi t
o hold me during the night. I needed comfort after everything we’d been through together. Marie says, “You’re not going to work today, are you?”

  “No, but I need to check on the kids at the hospital.”

  “I plan to stop by after my counseling appointment.”

  “What time’s yours?”

  “Ten.”

  “So is mine. Maybe we can travel together.”

  “I’ll meet you in the lobby where the church meets.”

  Lexie is up and at the console. The Doorkeeper’s residence is open for joggers. Danzella is ready to escort Vivi to her home for a running outfit. By eight the hospitality chores will be over, and Marie and Lexie will go to the fitness center.

  Marie picks up the call from Allison. Dr. Ward tells her about a conversation with Dr. Andrew Winder.

  “When will you be in the Chicago area next?”

  Checking her calendar Marie answers, “The week of June 20th. I could tack on a day, before or after.”

  They talked about how to accomplish the trip, and what he might be able to do for her.

  Ava welcomes Marie. First, Ava is told about the attempt to obtain sensitive information from one of the sector’s residents by kidnapping four college prom goers. Then Marie says, “I’m depressed.”

  After discussing the signs, and assuring herself that her counselee is not in danger of harming herself Ava asks, “Is this different from last time?”

  “Yes. Now I’m mad at myself for being depressed.”

  “Why the self-anger?”

  “I feel incomplete because I can no longer read the trails of energy left by people going about their daily routines. Until nine months ago, I didn’t know I had this ability. But now, I can’t live without it. Everyone else lives this way all the time.

  “It seems like I’m a self-indulgent brat wanting a party in my honor, every day. I’ve never thought of myself as narcissistic, but it sure feels that way now.”