by John Nelson
Paula was still unconvinced, but there wasn’t much more she could do.
“Okay, Alan,” she said while standing up. “I still think there’s something … sinister going on here, but without your help I can’t get to the bottom of it, and will just have let it go … for now.”
I stood up. “Thanks, Paula. Please don’t let Emma’s father pay for this. Submit a bill for your services, and I’ll have the funds transferred.”
“It’s pro bono, for your help with Su Ling and Emma’s cases.”
We stepped back inside and I walked her to the door. “Oh, there is one more thing. I contacted your wife, Sherrie, who’s just as annoyed with K Industries and their refusal to update her on your whereabouts.”
“And?” I asked.
“She’s asked me to file a petition on her part to contact you, but Dr. Klaus said he would arrange a visit for her.”
“Thanks so much, Paula. Give my … best regards to Emma.” She nodded her head, no doubt confused by the formality of my request. I’m sure Emma filled her in on the nature of our relationship.
Later that afternoon, Sara Irving called and asked me to dinner. She informed me that she had been appointed my liaison because of our earlier contact at the Institute, in regards to Dr. Quirk. I asked how he was doing, and she said that he was serving out his time at a mental hospital in Maine. I agreed to meet with her; she would pick me up and we could walk to the cafeteria. I assumed that I was personally bugged and that even my walks were subject to surveillance, but they couldn’t watch eye contact or body language as closely.
When my door detector recognized her presence, I opened the door. She stood back in the hallway, deep enough to be in a shadow blind. She looked at me and shook her head; I nodded; we both understood the limitations of our meet-up. I was ready and closed the door behind me.
“First of all,” she said, as we strolled across the campus, “we’ve rolled out test models of the X5 neural processor, implanted it in test subjects who’ve been subjected to emotional upsets, and we’re pleased with how they’ve been able to … adapt.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond at first, but since I wanted them to succeed and just hoped that this processor would allow higher functionality in some, I decided to be … collaborative. “That’s wonderful. Anything I can do to help? Getting pretty bored with my current routine.”
“Well yes, the reason for my invitation.”
“So this isn’t a ‘get to know each other better’ dinner?”
She laughed. “I think those were the exact words I used last time. How remarkable.”
“For a functional idiot?” I asked.
We walked on for a moment. “Well, you’re showing us that the good old neocortex can still surprise us.”
“Well, it sure the hell surprised me.”
She smiled and brushed up against me on the uneven ground, but I definitely got the message. I was not surprised that a section of the Institute’s cafeteria was converted into a restaurant at night, with tables and waiters and a much expanded menu. We ordered some wine and then dinner, and after the waiter poured our glasses, Sara raised hers in a toast.
“To Alan and his most excellent adventure.”
I had to laugh at this retro movie reference from the 1990s.
“Yeah, I love quirky old movies,” she added.
We just sat there and stared at each other until it became somewhat awkward for her. I imagined like most moderns she didn’t feel comfortable with silence.
“You seem a lot more peaceful than at our last encounter.”
“With Dr. Quirk?” I asked. She nodded. “Well, I was sent to discredit a man who wanted others to see ‘God,’ despite his twisted attempt to force-feed it to them, and I wasn’t entirely pleased with the assignment.”
She smiled. This seemed to play into her agenda—the reason I phrased it that way. “And did you see ‘God’ on your last assignment with Maria Fria?”
I laughed. “What kind of question is that?”
“Just curious. You seem … different.”
“Yeah, well, trying to survive the X2 certainly required an elevated response, that Fria’s energy only augmented.”
“You didn’t really answer my question, Alan?”
“Well, I do feel a connection to the greater whole and realize I’m more than the computing power of my … brain.”
She nodded her head. The waiter stepped over and served our dinner. The flounder looked great, even if it was farmed, and we took a few bites of our meals and just let this last exchange settle.
Finally, Sara looked up at me. “Alan, while I’m really interested in your process, from seeing the effects on you, I need to ask you if you’ll interview some of our test subjects.”
“See if they have this ‘unwanted’ potential too?” I said with a smirk.
“Well, yes I guess you could say that. No signs of any questionable orientation, but then we might not spot it given our own bias.”
I put down my fork. “You expect me to help you quash this impulse in others, or detect if it will arise and if your X5 needs further adjusting?”
Sara looked down; I could sense that she was being pressured and being used to what … seduce me into complying with their request? But, given that I was just as interested, I wondered if I could get what I wanted from the subjects, while not showing my true intent. Interesting challenge.
“Okay, I’ll interview them, but don’t expect me to help with your little witch hunt.”
She squinched her eyes. “It’s not, believe me. We just can’t account for all the new neural pathways in our upgrade, taken from your X2 cells, so they’re concerned.”
“Well, my long-term ‘orientation’ was augmented, not created by my struggles with the X2, so I wouldn’t expect the same in others.”
“Good. I can take that back to them.”
We finished dinner, but this couched request certainly strained the conversation. As we walked back across campus, Sara invited me to her place for an after-dinner drink. I begged off. I had no doubt that they wanted me to engage in sex with her, to see if something interesting was happening in that realm. They must’ve had consultants who were familiar with Eastern literature and its Tantric practices, and especially after Dr. Quirk’s quest, they were suspicious. But it also confirmed that she was no collaborator and had fed Su Ling her information on the X2 as part of Klaus’ overall plan. It just showed how much planning had gone into this operation, and made me wonder if my own recruitment by K Industries was part of it.
54.
It was interesting that they were conducting these interviews in the same interrogation room, or living room as it were, as we used with Dr. Quirk. I made a note not to underestimate Klaus and crew, and knew that these interviews would be examined from every angle and a lot of remote electronic monitoring was being conducted. The first beta tester, a Ms. Julie Mays, was shown into the room. She had already gone through a pre-interview, which covered standard questioning and tests, and was curious as what I wanted or needed from her.
“Julie, I’m Alan Reynard, and I have just a few questions for you.”
She smiled. “Go ahead. This has been routine so far.”
“So, besides handling emotional upsets better, have you noticed any changes in … temperament?”
“Not sure what you mean by that,” she said.
I paused. “For instance, have you been more tolerant of others and their quirks,” I said and had to smile.
She thought through this question. “You mean like my little brother’s weird ideas about everything?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Huh. Now that I think about it, I’ve only wanted to slap him upside the head a few times this week.”
I laughed. “And that’s an improvement?”
“You bet. The kid’s a major annoyance.”
I asked her a few more ‘pedestrian’ questions, and then excused her. The next tester was more of a challenge—kind of
a nervous wreck, and an interesting choice for the program.
“Henry, I see that you’re feeling less on edge after this replacement surgery.”
“Really, if you say so, Doc.”
“So, tell me, what usually sets you off?” I asked.
“People are so fucking greedy and just concerned about their own stuff, and could care less what’s happening outside their little world.”
“That is annoying,” I said. “So has that changed any?”
He stared at me for a long moment. “Them or me?”
“Well, they are interchangeable.”
“We’ve got a real philosopher here.” He paused and looked over at the one-way mirror but I didn’t react. “Since I don’t feel as … emotional about things, I guess it doesn’t bother me as much.”
“Do you ever catch yourself ready to react, and then hold back?”
He just stared at me. “Yeah, that’s the whole idea, isn’t it?” he asked. I didn’t respond. After a moment, he got nervous. “Yesterday I caught myself catching myself, and that was interesting.”
Just what I wanted to hear. The watcher complex. I asked a few more questions and dismissed him before he said too much.
This went on for a dozen more testers, all of whom were handling emotional upsets better and a few seem to be getting an expanded outlook. It was hard to tell within the limits of this format, but it became more evident with George Midas. The beta testers were supposedly picked at random, but I had to wonder if George wasn’t slipped in to test someone’s theory.
After a few standard questions, I asked if anything unusual had happened since the trials started.
“You could say that,” he replied rather cryptically.
“Care to elaborate?”
“You care to tell me what’s really going on?” he spit out.
I stared at him for a long moment. He had an asymmetrical face that made reading facial expression difficult, but I sensed that he was having “unusual” experiences.
“Why don’t you just tell me what’s been happening.”
He looked at me and shook his head. “Like you don’t know.”
I shook my head.
“Okay, the weird dreams started right off, and then I started knowing things.”
After a moment I asked, “What kind of things?”
“The phone would ring and I had a pretty good hunch about who was calling, before looking at the caller ID. Things like that.”
“This ever happened before?” I asked.
“Yeah, my wife says I’m psychic, not that I give a damn, but what was weird stuff happening every so often, has become pretty regular since the trial started.”
“Has this frightened you?”
He stared back at me. “That’s the funny thing. It’s been annoying as hell but I seem to deal with it better. Hey, maybe I’ll hang out a shingle and start giving psychic readings.” He laughed.
“Well, don’t be surprised if it lets up at some point.”
“Oh yeah, you got your own crystal ball or something?” he asked.
“The unconscious mind, as Carl Jung once said, just wants to be acknowledged. I think it’s got your attention, and if you don’t resist, it should stop ‘annoying you.’”
“Okay, professor, if you say so.”
At the end of the day, Sara informed me that I had interviewed enough testers and that tomorrow, Dr. Klaus and a few of the brain scientists wanted to get my impressions of how the trial subjects were handling the new X5.
This exchange happened in a corporate boardroom, with a huge oak table and with them sitting across from Klaus and me. To start out Klaus asked me my overall impressions. I had thought about what I would say and had even done some research on the Web, and I felt that I had a good handle on the first stage of this expansion, but would only dole it out to them.
Klaus asked me to make a general statement. “I quoted Carl Jung yesterday, when trying to explain this phenomenon to Mr. Midas, the would-be psychic.” This got everybody’s attention. “So I did some research, actually just a reminder from my psyche courses in college. Jung claimed that we apprehend what’s happening around us with either our intuition or our physical senses, and for most some combination of the two, and that we process that information either through our feeling or our thinking function.”
“Yes, Yes, basic transpersonal theory,” one of the scientists replied impatiently.
“Well, I would say with the changeover to neural processors years ago, that a great majority of the population has become sensing/thinking types, which explains the decline in the creative arts over the last fifty years.”
“Some would question that,” another scientist added.
“Well, by allowing the integration of more feelings, or a slight shift from thinking to feeling processing, you would also see a shift from sensing to more intuition as well.”
Dr. Klaus nodded his head. “Brilliant assessment, Alan.”
“So you’re saying that this adapted X5 isn’t causing psychic experiences per se but increasing intuitive leaps?” Sara asked.
“So by adjusting the threshold of how much feeling you allow to be processed, you set a gauge of how much intuition comes into play.”
The scientists looked at each other and started nodding their heads. What scared them was a lack of control, or the whole population switching its orientation. But, this gave them a rheostat to control that influx.
“But with Midas it wasn’t a quid pro quo, or the amount of feeling integration wasn’t proportionate to the … intuitive leaps,” a scientist pointed out.
“Well, everybody’s makeup is different, and like me he didn’t need as much integration, but that’s the exception, not the rule here, I would think.”
Using this gestalt they seemed to have a better understanding of the interviews and the expansion some of the beta testers were experiencing, or their questions seemed to reflect that view. I also sensed a bit of relief, as they could now convince the political structure that a rollout of the new X5 could correct the social chaos caused by the neural processor breakdowns, without creating a whole new set of problems. I could just hear the advertisements: “Upgrade to the new X5 and get peace of mind.” As the meeting broke up, several of the scientists actually stepped forward and shook my hand, as if I were a colleague, which I guess I was in a manner of speaking—if they only knew.
As we were walking out, Klaus said, “You might have righted the ship and saved the day, Alan. We should give you stock options.”
Hopefully they would let me go, which was my only concern.
55.
I was informed by Dr. Klaus that, given my overall cooperation, I was being relieved of any further involvement with this FBI mission and that I was being returned to K Industries, to resume my work there.
“So I’m free and clear?” I asked at our last interview.
“Well, you still have another year left on your contract with them, and we would prefer that you honor that commitment.”
“Okay, and my subdural tracker?”
“Remains,” he said.
“So you can keep tabs on me?”
“You’re still suspicious of us, which doesn’t bode well for continued government work, but given the sensitive nature of this last assignment and the need for total secrecy, we want to make sure you don’t disappear and honor your nondisclosure agreements with us.”
“You know, without a neural processor, I won’t be as quick or facile as I once was. Is that of any concern, or I should say, have they been informed?”
“No, as far as they or anybody else is concerned, you still have a neural processor. I mean, to them, how else could you possibly function in our society or on your job without one?”
“Otherwise, seeing that I do, would raise questions in people’s minds and unwanted speculation and inquiries, which would put my work on this project and its characterization in jeopardy.”
Klaus nodded his head. “Sharp as ever
as far as I’m concerned.”
“Any further … exclusions?” I asked.
“Well, we’ve placed Maria Fria on the anti-government list and she’s gone underground, so you can’t have any further contact with her, or any such contact will be considered aiding and abetting an enemy.”
“She’s no such thing, and you know it.”
“You mean from your biased reports of her,” he said.
I could see that this line of contention wasn’t going to help my case. “Yes, I guess you could say that.”
“We’ve told your wife that you’re returning to your job at K Industries. I assume you’ll inform her or deal with personal matters on your own.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“Well, I’ve been asked to inquire if you’d be interested in a consultant’s position, here at the Bradbury Institute, for considerably more money and stock options that could make you rich one day.”
It took considerable restraint on my part not to laugh in his face. “No, this environment’s too heady for me. I’d rather go back to catching bad guys.” I gave him a searching look, since he was one of them in my opinion.
“Okay, well I think that does it, Alan. I want to thank you for your work on our little project. I hope you don’t hold any grudges against how it was conducted. I mean, you’ll cross paths with Musgrave and me in the future, and we’d hate for that to be … awkward for you.”
“I don’t see why it would. I mean. We succeeded, and the long-term payoff in terms of social stability has been achieved.”
“Well, I’m glad you see it that way, Alan.”
After the session I was taken to the legal department, where they had me sign another round of nondisclosure agreements. I went back to my apartment, packed my bags, and a car drove me to the city. I had them drop me at a midtown hotel. I wasn’t ready to show up on Sherry’s doorstep. It was interesting that I should characterize that way—I mean it was my place as well, but I guess it didn’t feel that way to me any longer.
The next day I called Gene at K-Industries. He told me that, since my time at the Bradbury Institute was considered a buffer period, I was to report to work the following Monday. He sounded glad to hear from me, wondering what had happened. I was actually looking forward to the normality of it all. The next weekend I planned to talk with Sherry, tell her I wanted out of our contract, which I was sure would be just fine with her. I mean, given the expansion of my feelings and intuitions, going back to the sterile environment of our marriage just wouldn’t work for me. I was sure she’d see that as well after our face-to-face talk.