Alien Hunter

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Alien Hunter Page 5

by Bryson, Karen M.


  JoJo and I nod.

  “Good. Do you have any questions for me?”

  I’m not even sure what to ask. It’s still not completely clear to me what their mission is or what expectations they have for their interns. When I look over at JoJo, she has her arms crossed in front of her. She doesn’t look like she’s about to ask any questions. I get the feeling she’d be willing to give them one of her kidneys if they paid her enough for it.

  “If there aren’t any questions, Bailey will get photocopies of your licenses. We’ll get your employee IDs made, and I’ll introduce you to the rest of the staff. Welcome to the Optimal Mind Institute.”

  It’s been my experience that when things are too easy, there’s usually a catch. This seems to be one of those times. Getting a job here was way too easy.

  I just wonder what the catch is.

  JoJo and I follow Dr. Roth down the hallway toward the reception area. She stops in front of the first office and knocks. The young woman who led us to the reception area opens the door and smiles at us. “Welcome aboard.”

  “Bailey, go ahead and process their paperwork. Meet us in Dr. Graves’s office once you have their IDs ready.”

  “I’m on it.”

  JoJo already has her license in her hand and is giving it to Bailey before I even have a chance to remove mine from my wallet. She may be mean, but she’s got some stealth skills.

  Then Dr. Roth gives us quick wave. “Follow me to Dr. Graves’s office.”

  We go back down the hallway until Dr. Roth stops in front of one of the doors and knocks. A middle-aged black man greets us when the door opens. “It’s great to have you both at the institute. I’m Dr. Graves. I’m the CRO—chief research officer.”

  He’s immaculately dressed in an expensive-looking black suit and shoes so polished I can almost see my reflection in them. There’s something about his rigid demeanor that makes me wonder if he’s former military.

  “We have one more full-time employee. Our research associate.” Dr. Roth knocks on the office door directly across from Dr. Graves’s office.

  My jaw nearly drops to the floor when the door opens, and the professor-in-training is standing in front of us.

  “You’ve already met Eli Washington,” Dr. Roth says.

  He gives us a big smile. “Welcome aboard.”

  My mind feels like it’s spinning out of control. He wasn’t really interviewing to be an intern. He’s actually one of the employees. Was he spying on us? Was it some kind of test?

  “Guess I’m not a boneless chicken after all.” He directs the remark at JoJo.

  She gives him a look that could kill in response.

  “Your employee IDs are ready.” Bailey is hurrying down the hallway with two laminated badges in her hands.

  She hands one to me and one to JoJo.

  It’s got one of those alligator clips on the back, so I attach the ID badge to my collar. JoJo attaches hers to the pocket of the shirt she’s wearing.

  “Eli will be training you both. We hope to have you working in the field later this week.”

  Working in the field . . .

  I wonder what that means.

  “If you have any questions, you can always knock. My office is right next to Dr. Graves’s.” She points to her door.

  “Thank you for this opportunity,” I tell her.

  “Thanks,” JoJo says as if letting the word of appreciation out of her mouth is killing her.

  “If you’ll follow me into our lab,” Eli says, “I’ll get started with your training.”

  We follow him to the end of the hallway and into a much larger room. There are several long work tables, desks with computers, and storage cabinets.

  As soon as he shuts the lab door, JoJo glares at him. “What was that?” she spits.

  “What was what?” He furrows his brow.

  “That performance you gave during the interview.” She gives him a slow clap. “You deserve an Oscar for that acting.”

  “We’ve had some interviewees who were hesitant about signing the forms. We needed to make sure that you were both committed to the institute’s mission and goals.”

  “I’m committed to earning a paycheck,” JoJo tells him.

  When Eli turns to me, I shrug. It’s hard to make a commitment to something I know so little about. And I’m not completely comfortable with him pretending to be an internship candidate. The whole thing feels deceitful.

  “Right now, we’re conducting field experiments. It’s a joint project between the Optimal Mind Institute and the Department of Defense. You’ll be assisting us with the experiments. You’ll be given randomly generated instructions via text message, and you’ll be following those instructions. We have various locations set up throughout the city where we have cameras installed. You’ll also be wearing body cameras so that we can see exactly what you’re doing. Just follow the instructions you’re given via text, and that’s it.”

  “You’re not going to shoot at us, are you?” At first, I think JoJo is kidding, but she’s as serious as a nun at Sunday Mass.

  Eli laughs anyway. “Why would you say that?”

  “When I hear the words Department of Defense, it makes me itchy. It makes me think of guns and tanks and bombs.”

  “This is a Defense Research Projects grant, but we don’t develop those kinds of weapons.”

  I notice that he didn’t deny that they develop weapons. Just not those kinds of weapons.

  “What are you developing?” I ask.

  “We do psychological experiments in partnership with the military. Dr. Roth and Dr. Graves both have PhDs in psychology. I’m a doctoral candidate at the university. The research we’re doing here is also going to be used in my dissertation.”

  I was right. He is a professor-in-training.

  “We call this a psi lab,” he continues. “We develop and test methods of alternative consciousness for military use. I can’t tell you any more than that without compromising the integrity of the experiments you’ll be participating in.”

  “Alternative consciousness sounds like another name for some type of psychic phenomenon.” I can’t help the note of cynicism in my voice.

  “We don’t like to call it that.”

  “Because there’s no such thing.”

  He gives me a smug smile. “Just because you’ve never experienced it doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

  Now he sounds like my aunts.

  “I’ve lived with two so-called psychics my entire life. I know it’s a racket. I wouldn’t call it fraud because I think most people who claim to be psychics are sincere and have good intentions. I think they truly believe in what they’re selling and believe that they are doing something good. They just don’t realize they are fooling everyone, including themselves.

  “People generally don’t contact psychics when everything is rosy in their lives. They contact psychics when they are desperate and have tried everything else to solve their problems. They just want someone to give them hope. At some point in their lives, most people need someone to tell them that everything is going to be all right. That’s the service they provide. But there’s nothing out of the ordinary about what they do. They’re just very good at reading people and creating the illusion of a psychic phenomenon. But it doesn’t really exist.”

  “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to believe in the phenomenon, and it still works.”

  “I think you’ve picked the wrong person to work here.”

  As I make my way toward the door, Eli stands in front of me, blocking my exit. “I think we picked just the right person. Your skepticism will be an asset in the field.”

  “How can I do something that I don’t believe in?”

  “One of our goals is to develop mind tools that can be used by anyone. We don’t believe that you have to be born with special abilities to use psi techniques. We believe that humans can be trained to use these tools. What better person to have on our team than a skeptic.”

&
nbsp; I heave a sigh. Maybe he’s right. And it’s not like there are other employers lining up to offer me a job. “Fine. I’ll stay. For now.”

  “Give it a shot. If you find that you don’t like the work we’re doing here, we can part ways. No hard feelings.”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “So when do we go out into the field?” JoJo asks.

  “Let’s do some orientation training first,” he says. “See how you do with the system. How does that sound?”

  “I’m just here to get paid,” she reminds him.

  “Right. You’re all about the money. Do you have any preconceptions about alternative consciousness or psi phenomena?”

  She shakes her head. “Nope.”

  “Okay then. Why don’t we get started?”

  “I do have one question.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “When do we get our first paycheck?”

  Eli laughs. “Back to the money. The institute issues paychecks on a biweekly basis. We’re scheduled to get paid at the end of this week. You should be in the payroll system by then.”

  JoJo’s face seems to soften just a bit. Whatever she needs the money for seems to be weighing on her pretty hard.

  I feel a little bit of empathy for her. But just a little. She’s still not a very nice person. But I suppose there are people in the world who would say that about me too.

  “If you don’t have any other questions. Let’s step into the viewing rooms.”

  JoJo and I follow Eli out of the lab. We walk down the hallway, past the interview room, and stop in front of another closed door. Eli unlocks it, and we enter. There are four small offices enclosed in glass. Each office is not much bigger than a walk-in closet. In the center of the area adjoining the rooms is a large console that looks very high tech and intimidating with all its computer equipment.

  “Why don’t you each take a seat in one of the viewing rooms and make yourselves comfortable?”

  Each viewing room has a reclining chair like the ones you normally see in dentists’ offices, minus the large lights and dental equipment.

  JoJo doesn’t hesitate to march into the viewing room closest to her and plop herself down on the reclining chair.

  I’m a little more hesitant, but I do as instructed. Fortunately, the sterile-looking chair is more comfortable than it appears.

  “Get in a relaxed position.” Eli’s voice sounds like it’s coming from a speaker in the wall next to me.

  I wiggle around a bit until I find the sweet spot.

  “Please affirm that you can hear my voice.”

  “I can hear you.” It feels weird talking with someone who is not in the room with me. There must be a microphone in the wall, along with the speaker.

  “Good. Now close your eyes, and take in a few deep breaths. I’m going to play some Bach to put you in a more relaxed state.”

  Classical music begins to play. I’m not a huge fan of the genre, so I’m not sure how relaxing it will be, but I do my best to release the tension from my body.

  Several moments go by before I hear Eli’s voice again. “Now I’d like for you to clear your mind.”

  That’s not as easy as it sounds. My cluttered brain produces an endless stream of noise and chatter.

  “Visualize a blank screen in front of you. Like a movie screen but with nothing playing.”

  I picture a large white screen in front of me.

  “Now I want you to wait for an image to appear. Don’t force a picture onto the screen. Just wait for one to emerge.”

  For several moments, nothing develops. Then a figure starts to materialize. It’s fuzzy at first; then it comes into focus.

  It’s a small rectangular box. With a lion, an elephant, a polar bear, and a gorilla. At first, it doesn’t make sense. Is it a zoo? But how could a zoo be so tiny?

  Then I realize the animals are drawings on the box.

  “Let me know when you see the target,” Eli says.

  “I see it,” I tell him.

  “Describe what you see.”

  “It’s a box of animal crackers.”

  “That’s specific,” he says.

  “That’s exactly what I see.”

  I always wanted them when I was a little kid, but my aunts would never buy them for me. Fortunately, Gunner always had extra boxes to share. I haven’t eaten them in years.

  “Let’s try one more,” he tells me.

  “Okay.”

  He turns the classical music back on. I take in a deep breath and relax. This time, it’s easier for me to clear my mind. I’m also able to get an image on the screen more quickly.

  “Let me know when you see the target,” he says.

  This time, the image isn’t static like the box of animal crackers was. This one is a moving image. It’s like I’m viewing an actual movie on the screen. Someone is opening the box of animal crackers. The cookie eater is wearing a uniform. Camouflage. A military uniform. It’s so strange, but it’s almost as if I can feel what he’s feeling as he removes a cookie from the box and stares at it. He’s never eaten an animal cracker before. He’s sad that he never got the chance. When he puts the cookie in his mouth, I can taste it. The sweet, buttery vanilla flavor.

  “Can you describe what you’re seeing?” Eli asks.

  “Not really,” I tell him. I’m at a loss for words. This feels like it’s way beyond simple visualization. It’s like I’m right there with the cookie eater.

  “Can you tell me anything about what you are seeing, hearing, smelling, sensing, or detecting?”

  I feel like a voyeur observing another person’s experience. But it’s more than that. I feel like I’m experiencing it with him.

  “He’s eating the animal crackers,” I tell Eli.

  “Who is eating them?” He sounds a little taken aback by my response.

  Now he has me wondering who the cookie eater is. Right now, I can only see his hand and arm. I relax my mind and try to get a wider view of the target.

  When his chest comes into view, I’m able to make out a name emblazoned on his chest.

  “Falcon,” I tell him.

  There’s no immediate response. After a few moments, he says, “That’s enough for today.” His tone is curt, and I wonder if I’ve done something wrong.

  It would be just my luck to get fired before I’ve even started the job.

  When I sit up, I’m a little woozy. Did I get too relaxed? Is there such a thing?

  I take in a few deep breaths before I hop from the chair and exit the room.

  JoJo is still lying on her chair when I glance over at her room. I think she might be snoring. That’s super-relaxed.

  Eli enters her room. As he carefully touches her shoulder, her eyes snap open, and she nearly jumps out of the chair.

  She grabs his wrist and pushes his hand away from her body.

  I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it looks like he says, “Sorry.”

  She points a finger in his face and says something I can’t make out. But she’s scowling, and I can tell that she’s angry.

  When they exit her small room, I can still feel the tension between them.

  “I didn’t mean to startle you,” Eli says.

  “Whatever,” she bites back.

  Eli nervously clears his throat.

  “We got some interesting results with your initial screenings,” he says. “I’ll need to discuss them with Dr. Roth and Dr. Graves. But I think you’ll both be ready to go into the field tomorrow.”

  JoJo doesn’t say anything more. She just stares at him.

  I’m not sure what to say because I’m still trying to process everything that happened. So far, this is an extremely weird job.

  “Let’s get you your equipment,” Eli suggests.

  We follow him back down the hallway and into the large lab.

  He unlocks a tall metal cabinet and removes two cell phones. “These are the phones that we’ll use to send you random text messages. W
henever you get a text, just follow the directions.” He also removes two spherical objects the size of jawbreakers from the cabinet. They look like robot eyeballs. “These are your body cameras. You wear them on chains around your neck.”

  He hands each of us a camera.

  “You can start anywhere in downtown Cordia. You’ll get the first text at nine o’clock tomorrow morning. We’ll track you with your body cameras and with other cameras we have set up throughout the city. Do you have any questions?”

  I have a lot of questions, but I’m not sure where to begin. I’m not even sure he’ll be able to answer them.

  “Are we done for the day?” JoJo asks.

  “Do you have somewhere else to be?” Eli fires back.

  She glares at him.

  “We’re done for today. Be ready tomorrow at nine. We want you in the field when you receive your instructions.”

  JoJo takes off so fast you’d swear she had rockets in her boots. I struggle to keep up with her as she hurries down the hallway, through the reception area, and out the front door. Just as I’m about to catch up with her, she stops and turns to face me. “I don’t need any friends.”

  “I wasn’t offering. I just thought you might want to talk.”

  “About what?” She places her hands on her hips and gives me one of her hostile glares. I’m getting used to the gesture. It seems to be a defense mechanism. Like a human “Do Not Disturb” sign.

  “Maybe we could have a conversation about our new jobs. This strange place. That crazy stunt that Eli pulled. Don’t you think it’s all a little odd?”

  “Look, Eli could tell me that he’s from another planet, and I wouldn’t care, okay? I need the money, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get it.”

  “Fine. No friends. I get it. I’ve always been a bit of a loner too.”

  She laughs at me, but there’s no humor in it. It’s a laugh filled with bitterness. “You have no idea what it means to be alone in the world.”

 

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