by John O'Riley
“We needed to debrief him,” Hurst said.
“There was no reason we couldn’t be here, too,” Teresa said coolly.
“There will be an agent watching your house to make sure they don’t try to kidnap him again,” Driscol interjected. “Brian has our business card so he can call for help if he needs it. I doubt the researchers will take such a great risk though.”
“You never know. This is the first time anyone has ever escaped from them before,” Brian said.
Hurst and Driscol carefully hid their surprise but their energy pulsed with it.
“We’d better be going.” Hurst threw a smarmy smile at them. “I’m glad Brian’s okay.”
Jason followed them out of the house and locked the door before returning to the guestroom. Brian told the two of them what had occurred over the past four days.
“I’m sorry you had to suffer through that,” Paul said.
“What happened to Russell?” Brian asked.
“The police gave him a ride home,” Jason said.
“Jason told me what happened on the drive over here,” Teresa said slowly.
Teresa and Jason both possessed level ten telepathic ability so they could communicate over vast distances. Soon, Brian would be able to do the same thing.
“How does your connection to the Global Net feel?” Teresa asked with concern.
Brian hadn’t stopped to consider that. He’d never been able to assess the strength of his connection to the network. It was just there. He’d always taken it for granted. Brian closed his eyes and tried to feel it out with the same lack of result he’d always achieved throughout his life.
“I can’t get any sense of it. It’s just there,” he said.
“We need to get you scheduled to see a medical doctor or psychiatrist with connectivity psi. They’ll be able to get a more accurate reading,” Teresa said.
“You and Jason can get a sense of it, too,” Brian pointed out.
“Yes,” Teresa said grudgingly.
“You’ve already tried. What did you see?” Brian asked.
Teresa’s expression became guarded as did Jason’s.
“What’s going on?” Amy demanded heatedly. “Tell him what you see!”
Jason flinched at his granddaughter’s anger and threw a worried look at Teresa who remained silent.
“Your connection looks a lot weaker than it used to,” Jason said. “It’s not showing signs of breaking off but it’s a problem.”
“Why is it weaker?” Brian said as dread twisted in his gut.
“Most multipaths gain their abilities as toddlers. Sometimes multipathic abilities don’t awaken in certain individuals until they reach adulthood or their late teens which increases the chance that they’ll loose their connection to the network,” Jason explained slowly.
“Now that I’m a multipath, if my connection breaks away from the network, I’ll die,” Brian said shakily.
Jason nodded sadly while everyone gazed with a look of undisguised horror at him. Brian swallowed nervously as terror threatened to consume him. It wasn’t a good sign at all that his established connection had weakened so much.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get you to a shielding specialist. As long as your psionic protection stays strong, that should prevent further deterioration of your link to the network,” Teresa said.
“We should get you home so you can rest,” Paul said gently.
“I guess I’d better,” Brian said reluctantly.
He hated to leave this peaceful sanctuary with its pervasive tranquility. Maybe it was all the evergreens and plants surrounding the home coupled with the lack of intrusive energy from any neighbors which were miles away. It was with great reluctance that he left with his parents and sister to return to their house in Lynnwood. As they gathered in the living room, Brian realized he no longer felt safe here. His mind went back to his time spent in captivity and he wondered if Samantha and the others would try to get him back. Even though he knew the FBI had an agent watching the house, he still didn’t feel secure. Soon, Derek and Dick arrived to visit.
“It’s good to see you,” Derek said. “We were worried.”
“So was I,” Brian said. “I knew she planned on killing me after a week.”
“I’m sure you would have thought of a plan if Russell hadn’t forced you to act before you were ready,” Amy said emphatically.
This prompted Derek and Dick to demand more details of what had happened since they hadn’t yet heard. Brian filled them in and they listened with rapt attention.
“Man! That’s intense,” Dick said.
“Quit trying to sound hip,” Amy said. “It makes you sound your age.”
Dick scowled at her in annoyance as he didn’t like to be reminded he was elderly.
“Where’s Stephanie?” Derek asked.
“Things didn’t work out,” Dick said dismissively.
A flare of energy pulsed to indicate he wasn’t being completely honest. Brian ignored the psychic input as he almost always received it when people spoke about the end of their relationships.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Paul said sympathetically.
“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Paul,” Dick said heatedly. “Next thing you’ll say is that you know exactly how I feel. I don’t want to hear it. You have no idea what it’s like. You’re the one who’s married.”
Everyone froze in shock as naked violence danced in Dick’s eyes and radiated from his body. The psychic energy caused pain to flare in Brian’s forehead and chest as his heart beat wildly and adrenaline coursed through his veins. Dick shot to his feet and abruptly left the house.
“What’s his problem?” Amy asked. “You’d think when he went through as many women as he does that he would be used to being dumped by now.”
“He’s always been emotionally volatile,” Teresa said with distaste.
“It’s nothing we haven’t seen before. He’ll be fine tomorrow,” Paul said decisively.
Teresa, Amy, and Derek nodded in agreement. They decided to watch a movie but exhaustion quickly settled in on Brian and he went to bed early. As soon as he fell asleep, he dreamed of Samantha and her three colleagues; Brandon, Norman, and Ashley. The four of them sat at a flimsy card table in a white, dusty room with their equipment and supplies hastily dumped on the counter. Four syringes lay at the center of the table. Samantha’s blond hair was slightly disheveled and her icy blue eyes intently locked onto each of the three colleagues as though emphasizing a point. Ashley couldn’t hold the gaze and looked down at her hands.
“Are you sure this is a wise idea?” Norman finally said.
“Of course, I’m sure. This facility is only a backup. We don’t have the space here to conduct further trials. We don’t receive enough funding to start again. Furthermore, our time is up,” Samantha said.
“What do you mean?” Norman asked sharply.
“Project Onyx wasn’t meant to last this long and our benefactor has lost patience. He informed me a couple of months ago that next month is our last. If we don’t succeed, we will be given other assignments and they won’t be fun. No one we’re working with will know what project we were working on but they’ll know we failed because we fell from top-secret clearance to low-level clearance,” Samantha said.
“Will we still work together?” Ashley asked in a neutral tone.
“If we fail, then no. If we succeed, it’s possible we may be assigned to another project with even more importance than this one.”
“Are you sure we should inject ourselves with the formula? We didn’t observe the subjects for a full two weeks,” Norman said anxiously.
“That doesn’t matter. Both subjects demonstrated multipathic abilities. We know it works. This isn’t like the other time when we were only testing one subject at a time,” Samantha said.
“I don’t like this uncertainty,” Norman said.
“Dr. Reynolds is right. This is our only hope of salvaging the project,” Brandon said.
He deftly reached out, grabbed one of the four syringes, and with a practiced hand, injected himself with the formula. He’d been the one to administer the formula to most of their captives. Samantha followed his lead by giving herself the formula. Norman reluctantly did the same. Ashley was the last to comply. She stared at the remaining syringe and slowly reached for it. Her three colleagues regarded her expectantly. She sighed and injected the formula into her arm.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Samantha said coolly.
“I hope we’re not making a big mistake,” Norman said dismally.
“Quit whining,” Samantha said icily. “This is the only way and we already know it works.”
“There have been a couple versions of the formula that killed our subjects,” Norman said.
“All of our previous subjects died before the fifth day but Russell and Brian are still alive. There is nothing to worry about,” Brandon said. “We need to go to our homes and rest. The first couple of days are kind of rough. It’s like having the flu.”
Without warning, the scene abruptly changed to a visual of Jason packing a box of kitchen utensils. Five more boxes were already filled and shoved in a corner of the room. Jason continued to place pots and pans into the current box until it was full. At that point, he carefully taped it shut. Jason set the tape gun down and stood to his full height to stretch. He had a lot more flexibility than one would expect from a man in his mid seventies. The scene shifted again to show Jason reading a brochure with lush, green evergreens across the background. Jason was now sitting at his small kitchen table and the room no longer contained packed boxes. He was carefully reading the opened brochure and typed papers spread across the surface in front of him. The words, Phoenix Enterprises, Inc jumped out at Brian because they were in bold. As this was a dream and he lacked any control, he was unable to focus on the rest of the words.
A blissful, relaxed smile curved Jason’s lips as his gaze looked away from the brochure and stared off into space as though he could see something breathtakingly beautiful. The scene shifted again to show Teresa sitting alone at a beige, plastic table typing on a data padd in a spacious, empty white room. Her long blond hair was twisted in a tight bun and she wore a black suit as her fingers danced swiftly over the touch keys of the screen. The page she was currently working on hung projected in the air in front of her. The door opened and a bulky, middle-aged man strode into the room wearing a blue military suit. He sat down on the only chair which was positioned directly opposite her.
“Major Delmont, I’m almost finished with the report,” Teresa said crisply.
“Excellent. How much more time do you need? We’re going to have to act soon,” he said.
“I need less than half an hour,” Teresa said.
“All right. I’ll leave you to it.”
She continued to work after he left but abruptly halted. Brief but vivid and alarming images of explosions with bloodied men, women, and children screaming flashed through her mind. She clasped her head with both hands and moaned softly. She squeezed her eyes shut and went very still for several long moments. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked composed again; however, her fingers trembled as she continued typing. The dream shifted again to show Jason speaking earnestly with an Asian woman wearing a beautiful purple flowing dress.
“He has suffered for many years and would make an excellent addition to Phoenix Enterprises and the Zen Network,” Jason said passionately.
“I’m sorry but there can be no exceptions. The only way for minors to join is if their legal guardian becomes a member,” the woman said with a slight accent. “Don’t worry. He is almost eighteen. He may not even wish to join us.”
“I’m sure he will. Who wouldn’t want to?” Jason said.
“There are many who find it too constraining in our community. Those like yourselves who suffer from the negative junk energy that the majority of the population give off often find the peaceful surroundings and the psychic tranquility more than make up for it,” she said.
The vision abruptly ended and Brian was working on schoolwork at his desk. A disturbing feeling made him pause and look up. It seemed as though he was being watched. Remembering how he’d been captured by an individual entrenched in the Quiet, he abruptly leapt to his feet and prepared to run. Of course he would be trapped if someone happened to be standing in the doorway. He swiftly lunged forward but encountered nothing solid. He slammed the door shut and locked it. He slowly backed away from the door as the feeling of being watched intensified. He quickly surveyed the room for any telltale signs of trespassers. Abruptly, his bedroom window shattered and a man leapt through it. He was dressed all in black and his features were hidden in shadow even though the light shone over him. The switchblade in his right hand glinted eerily in spite of his shadowy body.
Brian fumbled with the lock and threw open the door. The killer swiftly pursued him as he sped through the empty house and out the front door. Brian didn’t have time to grab his keys so he couldn’t escape in his car. He pumped his legs to try to gain more distance between himself and the killer. He took a quick peek behind him and his heart sank when he saw that only six feet separated them. Abruptly, Brian fell to the street as the killer managed to tackle him. The killer raised his knife in preparation to strike and Brian grabbed his wrist with both hands to halt the progression of the knife to his chest. In spite of his best efforts, the switchblade slowly dropped lower and lower to his chest.
Brian abruptly awakened from his dream and stared out into the darkness of his bedroom. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and his body felt extremely weak as though he’d really been running for his life. He wondered if he’d ever get used to the nightmares. He ruminated over the previous dreams which had been more vivid than usual. He slowly sat up and took deep, cleansing breaths. If the nightmares indicated he was nearing psychic burnout, it was a very good thing he had an appointment to see the shielding specialist as it was absolutely critical to retain strong psionic shields in his current condition.
Brian swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up to a standing position. As he moved towards his bedroom door, thousands of thunderous voices crashed against his mind. He stumbled as a fresh wave of chaotic emotional energy struck savagely. Brian couldn’t withstand both the empathic and telepathic overload. He couldn’t sort through or process the input. His body spasmed and he almost lost his footing. He weakly grasped the door and tried to call out for help but his vocal chords wouldn’t cooperate. He sank to his knees and clung desperately to the handle. Agony coursed into him through a new, unexpected source – his hand. Psychometric energy arced up his arm and his body collapsed to the floor.
Chapter 8
Brian awakened in a sterile, white, hospital room with one other patient. An IV was secured to one arm and his condition was being monitored electronically. He felt a lot better as he sat up but was still extremely weak. Teresa was seated in a chair on the other side of his bed and he hadn’t seen her until now. She smiled weakly at him.
“Welcome back,” she said.
“Mom, what happened?” he asked even though he knew the answer.
“You experienced psychic burnout. Your brain couldn’t handle all the psychic input. One of the doctors, a talent detector, said you were receiving telepathic, empathic, psychometric, and connectivity psi stimulation all at the same time,” Teresa said. “Your body was shutting down. I extended my psionic protection over your mind which helped until Dr. Bettinger could strengthen your own defenses.”
“Dr. Bettinger came here?” Brian asked.
“It was an emergency. Normally, he doesn’t make visits to the hospital,” Teresa said. “Thank heavens you’re all right.”
“Where’s Dad?” Brian asked.
“He stayed here for an hour but had to go back to work,” she answered.
“How am I going to survive?” Brian asked quietly.
“Your body needs time to adapt to its new abil
ities.”
“You work in a white room a lot and one of the people you report to is Major Delmont,” Brian said in reference to his dream which he now realized was more than that.
Teresa’s eyes registered surprise but she quickly adopted a poker face.
“What makes you say that?” she asked.
“It’s one of my abilities. I’m not sure which one. I dreamed about you working but I know it was real. There’s no use denying it,” Brian said.
“I can’t talk about work. It’s classified,” Teresa said stiffly. “What other dreams did you have?”
Brian told her what he had seen and she gazed at him in silence for a moment after he’d finished.
“It must be your connectivity psi ability the doctor sensed. Do you know how it works?” she asked.
“No.”
“You can sense and manipulate psychic connections that we aren’t aware of. For example, you could isolate certain people into a smaller network almost instantly if you wished rather than wait for several days. It also has an unconscious component. It works with your other psychic abilities to give you information subconsciously from individuals which later turn up in dreams. It seems to be random what people pick up but sometimes you can practice what is called controlled dreaming where you can exercise a certain level of conscious direction to your dreams. It sounds like Dad is planning on moving. You saw packed boxes so he’s already in the process of packing. He never said a word to me,” Teresa said.
“Have you heard of Phoenix Enterprises or the Zen Network?” Brian asked.
“I’ve heard of a few religious groups isolating themselves in the Zen Network but I don’t think that’s what your grandfather has done. I’m going to have to have a word with him,” Teresa said.
“Why am I in the hospital?” Brian asked.
“You almost died,” Teresa said in a flat tone.
“So? The hospital can’t really do anything for me. You and Dr. Bettinger are the ones who saved me. Only psionic shielding makes a difference with psychic burnout,” Brian said.