I, Human

by John Nelson

  “Like a headache’s coming on,” I said.

  “That’s what commonly happens with these reinsertions.”

  “Okay. I guess I don’t need to be alarmed then.”

  “Alarmed? You’re feeling … different?” he asked, trying to hide his smirk.

  I felt like reaching over and wringing his neck, but decided to play along with him. “Yes, but given my earlier expansive experience, I’m probably just coming down from a high.”

  “Yes, I would think so.”

  “Well, has word come down on our new … strategy?” I asked.

  “Yes, we’re going to send you back to Jerome …”

  “What about Emma? Is she going back with me to keep my cover intact?”

  Klaus was staring at me and gauging my reaction. “Not for now. We’d like you to get … closer to Maria Fria, become part of her inner group, and your relationship with Emma—since you’ve become lovers, in spite of a contrary mission protocol—would interfere with that.”

  I was feeling a strong emotional reaction, a combination of fear for her safety and a kind of rage over their manipulation, but I also could see the test, or at least for me, was not to overreact and let this counter neural programming win out. “Are we still working the double agent protocol?” I asked rather dismissively.

  “No, we want you to develop your own healing potential and expand your intuitive powers.”

  “Okay, to further gauge its effect on my neural processor?”

  “Obviously, since we do plan further upgrades, but we also want to better understand how she facilitates energy as a healer, which means making you one.”

  “And what happens to Emma? She goes back to her civilian life?”

  “No. She may be needed later, depending on how this plays out,” he said.

  Yeah, I thought to myself. She’s their hostage, probably why they brought her back to begin with: to form an emotional bond with me, to keep me in line for their end game.

  Chapter Fifteen

  44.

  As I drove through the desert, I felt both a sense of exhilaration having escaped, if only momentarily, from the clutches of Musgrave and Dr. Klaus, but also a sense of desperation at having to leave Emma behind with them. I knew Emma would have told me to leave, sacrifice her if needed, to save Maria and her clan and the hope they represented for the rest of us. But I just couldn’t do one without the other, I felt. I watched this feedback as my new neural processor seemingly took my feeling of concern and justified sacrificing her with platitudes like, “the needs of the many outweigh those of the few,” which some would call dualistic thinking. I told myself it was a blessing in disguise that forced me to operate from a higher level or plane, but I couldn’t do that 24/7 and the more it twisted my feelings, the harder it would be to fight off its counterintuitive influence.

  I arrived in Jerome Tuesday afternoon—talk about a hellish four-day weekend—and settled back into my routine, for at least that first day. I told the desk clerk that Emma wouldn’t be coming back for now, but to hold her room. He seemed impressed that I was willing to pay double awaiting her return. I really didn’t know what came next: did I contact Maria, or wait for her to make a move? I decided to return to the Iguana Café and write again in earnest during the day; maybe my creative juices would give me some inspiration. I also needed to work with this new processor, to better gauge its influence. It did occur to me that Maria, having dealt with other agents with modified processors that couldn’t integrate feelings, even though this one was better at it, might have some insight. I also recalled Emma talking about Ling’s anti-government scientists and their understanding of modified processors. Maybe Maria’s group was in touch with them or others.

  I found that my creative thrust was affected; there was definitely a darker impulse to the writing. I couldn’t monitor it and write at the same time, since it came from a subconscious outpouring, but maybe I could alter it on rewrites, not that I was really taking the effort seriously now. Days later, at the cafe, June walked by and passed me a note. I wondered if they had spotted some new people in town, who might be monitoring me or them, or both of us, and were being cautious. The note said that, on the way out, she was going to invite me to dinner at her house and Maria would like me to accept.

  I went back to work and twenty minutes later, June did stop at my table, started up a conversation, and invited me to a potluck dinner at her house. I thanked her and accepted. I didn’t think I needed to bring anything, or that this was really a gathering. I showed up with some potato salad anyway, from the local vegetarian food market, for appearance purposes. June took the bowl and ushered me into the living room where Maria and Su Ling were waiting for me—Ling dressed in ninja warrior black.

  This was a big surprise. “Su Ling,” was all I could get out.

  “Alan, aren’t you glad to see me?” she said with a smirk.

  “But, a month ago you were …”

  “Transferred to a minimum-security prison. Thanks to Emma’s deal.” She paused. “I didn’t stay long.”

  This sounded a little too convenient, and I had to wonder if, besides getting Emma close to me, part of the government play was allowing Ling to escape.

  “Too easy? It occurred to me as well, Alan,” she added. “Let’s see what we can make of it.”

  June poured me a cup of tea and refilled their half-empty cups. They must’ve been talking or strategizing before my arrival.

  “I didn’t know you two knew each other,” I said.

  “Well, Alan, I’m not part of Ling’s anti-government group, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Maria said. “But, given the complexity of the situation, I thought we might need a broader perspective … and response.”

  “I see … and agree.”

  “Well, this is off to a good start,” Su Ling added. “First of all, what happened to Emma?”

  “They’re holding her at an Air Force base northwest of Phoenix, where we were tested and I was interrogated.”

  “As a hostage?” Ling asked.

  “I would assume.”

  “Play ball with them, or they do nasty things to your girlfriend.”

  I nodded my head. “I told her not to come, but she insisted.”

  “So, you’re guilt free,” Ling said bitterly.

  Maria gave her a penetrating look. “I trust Alan, and you should too.”

  Ling’s reaction indicated that she respected Maria’s opinion.

  Maria turned to me with the same focus. “Alan, what did they do to you?” she asked.

  “Are you sensing something?”

  “Better yet, what did you tell them?” Ling spit out.

  I said, “Well, I didn’t give Maria up, if that’s what you’re asking. I just insisted that the double agent protocol wouldn’t work because she didn’t have an agenda. I tried to convince them that the problem wasn’t with her and her healers but the psychological schism these processors are causing. But Musgrave just thought I’d been turned.”

  “And Klaus?” Ling asked.

  I stared at her.

  “Yes we know about Dr. Klaus, probably more about him than you. His placement at K Industries was an assignment, probably to set you up, Alan. He’s an upper echelon Gov mover and shaker.”

  “That fits with what he said, that an ‘accommodation’ might be in order, but they still wanted me to get close to Maria, in her inner circle, and they’d let me know.”

  Maria continued to stare at me. “You didn’t answer my question, Alan.”

  “Well, they took out my neural processor and tested me to see how I would function without it, and got surprising results.”

  Su Ling nodded her head. “But they didn’t put the same processor back in?” she asked.

  “No, this one’s modified somehow, but at least I’m aware of it, and have been trying to counter its influence.”

  Maria was alarmed and appeared to be concerned for my welfare.

  Ling reached over and touche
d her hand. “Don’t worry, we’ve dealt with them before. My scientists, if need be, can remove it.”

  “So you’re combining forces?” I asked.

  “That’s yet to be determined,” Ling said. “A lot depends on your cooperation, and just how far you’re willing to go.”

  “So you want to turn me into a double agent for your coalition?” I asked.

  Su Ling looked at Maria. “Again, we’re not sure about what’s needed; there are differing opinions.”

  “I bet,” I said.

  Su Ling didn’t like my response, but Maria spoke before she could overreact. “Alan, I know you have my best interest at heart, but we need to determine what’s best for everyone, as we’ve spoken about.” She now stared down Su Ling. “This doesn’t necessarily mean armed conflict or subversion.”

  “Well, Maria, I don’t really think we can expect an alliance with my handlers for the common good.”

  Su Ling laughed. “You surprise me, Alan. You’re like, halfway between our groups in your thinking …” She turned to Maria. “I see what you mean about him; I think we can all work together. Let me get back to my people.” Su Ling stood up, gave Maria a big hug, shook my hand, and left by the back door.

  We all just sat there for a moment. June finally said, “Well, let’s eat.”

  I smiled.

  “You didn’t think we’d let you go without feeding you,” she added.

  “I hoped not.”

  Maria took my hand. “We’ll talk later.”

  45.

  Besides June and Maria, we were joined at dinner by several other members of her sect, all of them advanced healers I assumed, since the conversation was on critical healing topics but no one got into a head space. Since it was obvious that I was being “sponsored” by Maria, I was just treated as one of the group. After everybody left and June had retired for the evening, I sat in the living room with Maria, sipping after-dinner tea.

  “I was thinking, Alan, that the best way to bring you into my ‘inner circle’ would be to have you enroll in our apprenticeship program.”

  I nodded my head, then closed my eyes to get a “feel” about this offer. I could sense that feeling drawing its own counter spin, but at least I was aware of this dynamic.

  “So, your other half isn’t thrilled with the idea?” she asked.

  “Let’s hope it only stays as an annoying voice of doubt.”

  “It would be interesting, not only for you but for me, to give you a healing, which is what I do to new apprentices. We can gauge the neural processor’s manipulation and see if it can be modified.”

  “That didn’t happen with the other agents with modified processors?” I asked.

  “No. As in Brenda’s case, it fought the energy and its strategy was flooding the psyche with repressed feelings.”

  “So it would rather die itself than be … healed?”

  Maria smiled. “Yes, I guess you could say that, but I sense this processor is different somehow and I would like to test its parameters.”

  “It allows and integrates feelings better but seems to twists their intent.”

  “Well, since we operate at a non-mental level during the healing process, learning to just ‘quiet the voice’ could be all that’s needed.”

  “Do you think you can … affect this sort of neural processor?” I asked.

  “Since it’s still made of brain cells, which are natural, despite their unnatural arrangement and intent, I would think the right feedback would affect it. But, of course, this hasn’t yet been put to the test.”

  “Well, let’s do it.”

  “I’ll announce it at our next service and have it posted on our website.”

  “Hope it doesn’t attract a lot of Lewis Hargrove fans here,” I said.

  “What if we use a pseudonym?”

  I thought for a moment. “How about Alan Reynolds, which is my wife’s maiden name.”

  “Which your handlers will recognize, without …?”

  “Blowing my cover,” I added. “A pseudonym of a pseudonym, makes perfect sense in this crazy mix.”

  Maria smiled. “Yes, Alan. It does.”

  At the next healing service on Thursday, June announced from the podium that they had enlisted a new apprentice in the Institute’s healing program, whom everybody knew as Lewis Hargrove, but for privacy concerns would henceforth be known as Alan Reynolds. I was asked to stand up, everybody put their hands up sending me their loving energy. It almost brought tears to my eyes, considering that some of them knew of my tattered history and mission, but all could embrace me or my humanity, given our higher connection. I was scheduled for my “introductory” healing on Tuesday and showed up at the Institute and waited for June to escort me back to Maria’s residence. She was standing in her living room ready to greet us.

  “Alan, as always, I’m so glad to see you, especially today with the inauguration of your new journey.”

  June took a seat on my right side, which drew my attention.

  Maria added, “June usually sits in on these healing sessions, to take notes and give her impression of the needed adjustments for our apprentices, since she runs the program.”

  I nodded my head. Maria stood up and walked over to my straight-back chair and stood behind me. “Usually we don’t ask the students for their feedback or converse with them during the healing, but you’re certainly not only one of our more advance introductory students if most compromised as well. So let’s just leave it open and let the process direct itself.”

  Maria did her healing ritual to call in the energies, then placed her hands above my head. I could immediately feel the energy pervading my cranium and its brain structure. I felt a reaction from my neural processor that was more accepting than I would have figured.

  “Did you sense that, Alan?” Maria asked.

  “Yes, the processor or appendage seemed to quiver but not shrink away.”

  Since the energy was conscious, as Maria had told me any number of times, it seemed to do its own dance with the processor, which was different from what it initiated with the last one. The energy seemed to caress it, as a mother might with a recalcitrant child, but did not try to penetrate its inner workings. Interestingly enough, its reaction was to slow down or slightly alter its processing, or so it seemed to me.

  “I feel it slowing down and it seems to better accommodate the energy than Brenda’s did,” Maria said.

  “Well, it’s been doing that with feelings but twisting the input.”

  “Okay, and that’s probably something you’ll have to work on,” Maria added.

  Maria finished up her healing, then walked to the sofa and sat down. “Alan. You’ll need to do what we call, the inside out approach. Or, integrate the feeling before the processor can modify its input and that may affect its programming.”

  “Well, I’ve been doing something like that for years, but this might allow me to turn it into a reliable methodology.” A feeling now arose as to the manipulative nature of this processor. I felt my way through it until it shifted and its energy spread out through my body, with remnants of this more refined energy getting acquired by the processor which did its programming thing.

  Suddenly this peaceful movement or dance was interrupted as my heart went into palpitation. I withdrew my consciousness, and as I did, the palpitations slowed and then stopped. As I sat back and relaxed, Maria asked me to explain what had just happened.

  I went through the process from the initiation of the feeling to my shifting it, the heart palpitation, to my withdrawal and I concluded saying, “Seems like, it’s programmed to deal with raw feelings or emotions, but my interference somehow short-circuited the process and like an angry child, it lashed out.”

  “Doubt if it would’ve actually caused a heart attack, but seems to be programmed to fight back in this manner,” Maria said.

  “So I stop my processing, or what?” I asked, feeling a little overwhelmed.

  Maria closed her eyes. “What I’m
getting is that you need to continue to work with the processor incrementally, do partial integrations and let it process the altered feelings and hopefully adapt and allow more in time.”

  This was brilliant. “Yes, like a gradual detoxifying process, but with energy, not hormones or body chemicals.” I had another thought. “It might even evolve it or change its programming.”

  “Yes, I could see that,” Maria added.

  June spoke up. “We have an advanced biofeedback machine that might help with this process.”

  “Yes, June. You’re right.” Maria turned to me. “I think working with the machine will let you discover the optimum way to interface with the processor and its erroneous programming, and then just do it yourself.”

  “Okay, I’m open. Can we start today?”

  June took out her portable to check their scheduling. “We have an opening at three o’clock. We usually do one hour sessions to start, but could extend them according to your feedback.”

  “Good. I’ll be back.” I stood up, gave both of them hugs, and June escorted me back through the building to administration where I set up a payment program for the apprenticeship and biofeedback sessions. I felt great letting the government, who placed this monstrosity in my head, pay for my therapy. I doubted Musgrave would see it that way.

  46.

  So the work began. At first I just sensed the raw impulses, did a partial feeling/integration process, and the technicians showed me the body/mind before and after reactions. Since this was a lot different from just helping people to lower their blood pressure, we had to work out a protocol, but they were pleased that they could gauge the processor’s reaction and help me modify my process to work with it. After I left the Institute, the work continued, since it was really my life in the world that triggered feelings and drew out its programming, and so it was here I would have to deal with it. What was interesting to discover was just how pervasive feelings are, which this process brought to my conscious awareness. Previous processors largely repressed them, but while this new model did try to integrate more of this energy, it was to its own end. I gradually came to see the warped “genius” of their approach: allow more feeling integration while shading its input to suit their design. This had Heir Klaus’ input all over it.