Seven Point Eight

by Marie Harbon

  “Woman trouble?” Paul laughed. “Max? Who’s the lucky, or could I say unlucky lady?”

  Oscar looked amused.

  “I stay out of it. They’ll have to work it out on their own.”

  Paul found it hard to believe. Max, womaniser extraordinaire, having trouble with the female species? He became curious. Who was she? He never discussed her at all, although obviously, she dominated his thoughts. Maybe one day he’d meet her and discover what all the fuss was about.

  Nobody really wanted to examine Max’s relationship issues, so Paul decided to achieve his primary objective. He was a man with a vision and hopefully the discussion today wouldn’t shatter it.

  “There’s something I want to lay on the table,” Paul revealed.

  Oscar and George sat up in their chairs, all ears.

  “I have a potential project I want to put to Max, but I needed to run it by you two first, as it would involve you.”

  They seemed enthusiastic so Paul continued.

  “You may be aware of the fast developing space race between the US and Soviet Union.” They both nodded. “Well, part of the problem is the human organism, our physical body and escaping the gravitational pull of the Earth, not to mention surviving in the harsh environment of space.” He paused for effect. “My question is - why do we need our bodies to explore the cosmos? You’ve demonstrated that consciousness can separate from the body and observe remote locations. Well…why can’t that be applied to space travel?”

  In response, they shared their delight in his light bulb moment.

  “You know, I never thought of it. But now you mention it, it could open up endless possibilities.”

  “I’m wondering though, how feasible is it? I mean, do you think you could project your consciousness into space? And report back the findings?”

  They considered his question carefully.

  “Well, I’ve never tried,” they both said, simultaneously yet independent of each other.

  Oscar added, “I must admit though, I don’t think I could muster enough psychic clout to get that far.”

  Paul felt his enthusiasm sink.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well,” he tried to explain, “there’s like a magnetic pull between the mind and body, I guess that’s what binds it together or our minds would be floating all over the place. You need a lot of psychic strength to push against it, if you know what I mean. There often seems to be a limit, sometimes I can feel the magnetism trying to pull me back.”

  George agreed. “You’d need a really powerful remote viewer to pull it off.”

  Paul’s fervour plummeted further.

  “And I bet they come along once in a blue moon, if you’re lucky,” he said in resignation.

  He sat back in his chair, while Oscar and George exchanged knowing glances. Should they put him out of his misery?

  “Let me put it this way,” Oscar said. “You need to present this to Max, as he has someone to become this project.”

  Paul left The Institute feeling hopeful again. As he walked through the hallway, Tahra stood at the top of the stairs. She watched as Paul opened the door, bidding farewell to Oscar and George. Once the door closed, she instantly ran down the stairs, curiosity getting the better of her.

  “Who was that?” she asked.

  Oscar looked at her, and a knowing smile flickering across his face.

  “I think you’re gonna find that out real soon.”

  13

  A Year’s Work

  Friday 12th November 1993

  The day had arrived. A year had flown by since Daniel Costa had been given an unusual assignment by a man who wished to remain anonymous, and who insisted on a non-disclosure. A year’s worth of privately paid investigation revolved around ten names, the majority of which were children. Daniel now held a large ring binder, full of information and photographs protected in plastic wallets. He reached the university, and reported to the biology department as directed.

  He entered the building and smoothed back his dark, shoulder length hair. While he didn’t look professional due to his casual attire, when it came to his job, he was no amateur. Daniel had a keen eye for detail and a stubborn tenacity for the truth, which made him an excellent private investigator. His rate was also very reasonable, he wasn’t high maintenance.

  At the reception, he felt quite embarrassed when asked who he was here to see, and he had to explain that the man didn’t give his name, but told him to come to Room 304 in the biology department on the 12th of November at 2:00pm. The receptionist took his name, rang the biology department, who confirmed Daniel Costa’s appointment so she gave him a visitor’s badge and instructions on how to get there.

  Daniel found the room easily, knocked, and opened the door when a male voice called out ‘Come in!’ He entered a room with oak panelled walls, and a large walnut table in the centre of the room. The man who’d given him the assignment sat at the far end. Daniel felt a little intimidated and walked tentatively towards the table, clutching the ring binder tightly.

  “I take it you have a year’s work to show me,” the man said, leaning forward in his seat.

  “Yes, I’ve brought what you asked for.”

  “Good, then let’s get started straightaway.”

  The man gestured towards a seat at the table adjacent to him and Daniel sat down, preparing his notes in front of him.

  “When you’re ready,” the man said.

  “Well,” Daniel began, “I did wonder what the point of the investigation was at first, then as I got halfway, I realised there was a lot of…common ground.”

  He looked to the man for some sort of response, a clue that would tie up the connections he found, but he gave nothing away. If anything, he lightly drummed his fingers on the table so Daniel passed him the first of the photographs.

  “Laila Foster,” he stated, “born on the 17th of June 1979 to Michael and Lorraine Foster. As she’s an incredibly bright child with a validated IQ of 155, she requires home schooling to meet her full potential. She’s already demonstrated a clear aptitude for science and number.”

  The man listened attentively and nodded appreciatively. He surveyed the photograph, looking at a young girl with blonde, wavy hair and intense blue eyes. In the picture, she held a rabbit and no one would guess she was an academic genius.

  Daniel passed him the next photograph, one of a young boy with dark, curly hair and green eyes, who held a violin and appeared to be lost in thought.

  “David Timms,” he continued, “born 2nd of March 1980 to Donald and Joanne Timms. He excels musically, having achieved grade 7 at piano, grade 8 at clarinet and grade 6 at violin. David has already composed his own music. Neither of his two younger sisters display any prodigious tendencies.”

  He passed the man another picture, one of a boy with strong features, dark eyes and ebony hair, dressed in a scout’s uniform.

  “Liam McKay, born 15th of July 1980 to William and Molly McKay. He’s a bright boy, however, he seems to have a peculiarly acute sense of direction and place, as evidenced from his scout troop and is uncannily accurate when predicting the weather. He adores animals, as can be seen from the picture taken on the farm where his mother works.”

  The man seemed surprised, but continued to listen attentively.

  “Next, we have Tom Hitchin, born 7th of September 1980 to Terry and Michelle Hitchin. Tom is also a very intelligent boy, with a particular leaning towards languages. He’s incredibly articulate, speaks three other languages fluently: French, Spanish and German, and he wants to learn Japanese next year. He has a brother, who is academically average in comparison.”

  The man looked at a photograph of Tom, who had blonde curly hair and freckles, a proud smile, and fierce eyes.

  Daniel handed him the next photograph, one of a boy with dark, wavy hair and small, piercing eyes. He held a circuit board and a screwdriver.

  “Sean Greene, born 30th of January 1981 to Colin and Tina Greene. He’s a bright an
d gifted child with a leaning towards science, electronics, and computer technology. At only nine years of age, he built his own circuit boards and has made a number of gadgets. He also disassembled a BBC computer and re-assembled an improved version in the same year, and has now progressed onto personal computers. At the moment, he’s developing a new method of programming. He has a sister, who displays no prodigious abilities.”

  Daniel passed him a photograph of a girl next, with long, strawberry blonde hair and freckles. She was painting a picture.

  “Hayley Bennett, born 2nd of May 1981 to Thomas and Janine Bennett. She’s incredibly artistic, painting and drawing like an adult at the tender age of seven, and she produces her own original work. Hayley has a sister, who displays no prodigious abilities.”

  The next photograph showed a girl of mixed race origin. She had skin the colour of milk chocolate, and braids in her hair. In the photograph, she took part in a school play in the lead role.

  “Aleisha Keane, born 10th of August 1981 to Roger and Beatrice Keane. They currently live in Jamaica, where Beatrice was born. Aleisha is academically bright, a good all rounder but seems to excel at anything that involves leadership, with an enhanced capacity for organisation and initiative. She also enjoys acting, and is very good at that too.”

  The man didn’t seem as impressed but looked thoughtful. Daniel handed him another photograph of a lonely and troubled looking boy, with dark hair cut in a bowl style. His large, blue eyes were startling as they were sad.

  “Anthony Preston, born 29th of December 1981 to Roy and Colleen Preston. He says very little but has a keen mind, capable of advanced maths and problem solving. Anthony plays chess on a regular basis and has beaten everyone who plays him. His memory is incredible, and he can remember the entire sequence of a deck of cards.”

  The man looked concerned at the boy’s sadness and studied the picture of Anthony intensely. Daniel passed him the next photograph of a girl with long, dark hair and a pretty face.

  “Katie Wright, born on the 12th of February 1982 to Keith and Anne Wright. She’s exceptionally bright and sociable, with an early leaning towards science. At the tender age of eleven, she had an advanced understanding of the universe and wants to be an astronaut. Her brother shows no signs of prodigious abilities.”

  “And finally, Ava Kavanagh.”

  Daniel passed him a recent photograph, in which Ava left the lab with her co-worker, Tom. The man stared silently at the picture, deep in thought until Daniel gave a run through of his findings.

  “She was born on the 19th of November 1967 to unknown parents, and adopted by David and Caroline Kavanagh at the age of four. There’s no trace of her anywhere until that age, my guess is that she lived abroad. At school, she was clearly brighter than the rest of the kids and leaned towards the sciences at an early age. Ava achieved a first in her genetics degree and since 1991, she’s been working at her uncle’s research lab. This is where it starts to get really weird.”

  The man became more attentive now.

  “Last year there was…an incident. One of the workers had a grudge against her uncle and decided to take it out on her, by attacking her with a highly contagious and fatal virus. The strange thing is, she survived, and not only did she survive, she developed no symptoms. The official line is that the virus wasn’t live, but my informant assures me the rest of the batch wasn’t ‘duff’, as he put it. Since then, she’s been involved in illicit research with her co-worker, Tom Fisher, based on her anomalous immunity to the disease. Their results so far indicate an almost…superhuman immune system, for want of a better word.”

  The man’s expression gave little away, although Daniel felt as if he’d stepped into a science fiction book or conspiracy tale. He looked to his contractor for some sort of feedback, but received no leads.

  “I hope the information is to your satisfaction,” Daniel said.

  “You’ve told me what I needed to know.”

  “Did you know beforehand that virtually all of these people are prodigies?” Daniel asked. “It’s certainly…a coincidence. I also noted one other factor that most of them share.”

  “And what is that?” the man asked.

  “Well, all of the kids were conceived in vitro, if you know what I mean. Except Ava, because test tube babies didn’t exist in 1967.”

  “Your observations are noted.”

  “Is that all?” Daniel asked.

  “No, I have more research for you.”

  His contractor passed two envelopes across the table, one contained the payment for his work and the other contained a piece of paper. Daniel looked at another list, an additional ten names of children all born in 1982, plus eleven more names of people born much earlier in the century, with no apparent connection to any of the youngsters. Who were these adults? He looked at the man, incredulously.

  “You have a year to bring me the results like before, although you may find some of the adults now reside abroad somewhere, just do your best. I’d really like to find these people.”

  Daniel nodded and stood up to leave, but then the man asked him a question.

  “This co-worker of Ava’s, Tom Fisher… Can he be trusted?”

  “Trusted?”

  “With the knowledge that he holds about her,” the man continued.

  Daniel gave him a wry look.

  “Well, let’s put it this way, he talked for a lot less money than I thought he would.”

  The man seemed concerned but didn’t trouble him with it. Instead, he just nodded with appreciation and Daniel left the room. Outside, Daniel gave little thought to Ava’s potentially precarious predicament and looked at the list of children’s names. The dates were much closer together this time. How many more of them would there be? And was there a more sinister, underlying connection between them? Who were these adults and how were they connected, if they were at all? A story lurked beneath all this and he felt determined to get to the bottom of it.

  Back in the room, the man drummed his fingers on the table again. He picked up the phone and called his friend, an associate researcher at another university whom he’d recently asked a favour of. His friend answered, as the number was a direct line to his lab.

  “Hi Mike,” said the man, “have you found that electromagnetic anomaly yet?”

  “Hey, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking,” Mike joked. “Yeah, I was going to give you a call, just confirming the data now. I’ve picked something up in a remote part of the Far East, HokkaidoIsland.”

  That didn’t surprise the man.

  “I also noticed some weird shit on Long Island, United States,” he added, “don’t know if it’s related. The Hokkaido anomaly is continuous, whereas the Long Island one switches on and off. Do you mind telling me what this is all about?”

  The man considered his request, but remained adamant.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.

  Mike responded, “Try me.”

  “Another time…we’ll discuss it another time.”

  The man put the phone down, satisfied that his plan was beginning to come together. He sat quietly in reflection, with the photographs strewn in front of him, looking over them thoughtfully, particularly the one of Ava. It appeared the woman he’d seen walking through the park matched the photograph of Ava. He wasn’t wrong, he hadn’t been wasting his time watching her. Now he had to decide his next move.

  14

  OOBE’s Birth

  Since Paul made a passionate presentation to Max at the end of July 1964, he’d been on tenterhooks. The possibilities of space exploration via remote viewing overflowed his everyday thoughts, and he couldn’t concentrate on writing his book about the soul as an electromagnetic field. Ironically, maybe this electromagnetic body would allow humans to explore space.

  Could he have envisioned something that would revolutionise space travel, even though it was just in its infancy? The current impetus sought to expend so much fuel and dollars, and subject the human bo
dy to such an extreme environment, that to only take the vital part of a person, their consciousness, the entire core of their sentiency seemed an obvious solution. In the future, remote viewing could scout possible worlds for exploration first, before exploring physically. The scope of it excited him, for maybe human consciousness could, indeed, know no boundaries.

  One September evening, Paul listened to the radio while attempting to type out his most recent thoughts and conjectures. Bob Dylan’s ‘The Times They Are a-Changin’’ played in the background, and a copy of a recent physics paper sat folded up beside him on the table. In it, he’d read an interesting article about Peter Higgs, who proposed that a massive quantum particle called a boson potentially gave atoms the invisible mass that equated with all that empty space, a topic discussed in one of his early lectures.

  The phone rang and Paul stopped typing. For some reason, he sensed its significance and taking a deep breath, he picked up the phone, hearing Max’s voice on the other end of the line. Greetings were brief, as he wanted to get to the point.

  “I’ve reached a decision on your proposal,” Max began.

  The moment of truth had arrived. Paul needed Max to gain access to remote viewers of high calibre and provide the funding.

  “What you propose is radical, challenging yet progressive. It has the capacity to stretch frontiers and expand our knowledge of the cosmos, yet, the results will be difficult to prove and substantiate.”

  Was this positive or negative feedback?

  “It’s unlikely conventional science will ever touch this, however, as we both know, the government uses reports by remote viewers for a variety of different purposes, many of which are of interest to national security.”

  Okay, it looked 50/50 now.

  “I’ve decided to proceed with this project on a trial basis, which will be a year in duration.”

  Paul wanted to punch the air. Although Max had only offered him a trial, it would prove whether the project had longevity or not.

  “How does that appeal?” Max asked, on not receiving a verbal response.