The Lasaran (Aldebarian Alliance Book 1)

by Dianne Duvall

  Lisa’s father had fallen apart. He had loved her mother dearly and couldn’t forgive himself for not being with her when his wife had died. Both he and Lisa had thought there would be more time, so he had been at work, struggling to avoid bankruptcy. The fact that he had not been with the woman he loved during her final moments had utterly crushed him.

  Lisa had suppressed her own grief and done what she could to help him. She continued to work even while she started college on a partial scholarship. But her father never recovered. A year ago, halfway through her freshman year, a car accident had taken him from her, too. He’d been driving drunk. The other accident victim had survived with thankfully minor injuries. But lawyers and insurance companies had swooped in and taken everything, as had the hospitals still awaiting outstanding payments.

  Lisa had spent the past year trying to get back on her feet. Dr. Aguera had been her lifeline here on campus, ensuring her other professors dropped her from their classes instead of failing her when she’d suddenly found herself without a home or a job and no way to attend classes shortly before finals. Once she’d found a full-time job at an all-night Superstore and rented a crappy apartment, he’d helped her apply for grants and scholarships so she could resume taking classes.

  “I would avoid this one,” he murmured, handing back one of the flyers. “They’re being too cagey on the details.”

  “Okay.”

  He’d also tipped her off to alternative ways to earn a little extra money on the side. He’d had to work his way through grad school. And one way he’d made ends meet was by participating in clinical studies various medical groups advertised on the science building’s noticeboard.

  Lisa hadn’t even thought of that, nor had she paid attention to the notices, assuming they were mostly students looking for roommates or frat-party announcements. But there were also, she discovered, calls for paid volunteers for studies, just as Dr. Aguera had said. So far she had been paid to participate in several. Her favorites had been a cholesterol study and a blood pressure study. Both had paid her for participating and supplied all her meals, so it had been a win-win… and the first time since her father’s death that she had been able to eat three meals a day. She’d also participated in a study researching whether or not arnica gel could decrease muscle soreness after exercise in comparison to a placebo. That one had been easy peasy. So had another on the effect of Concord-grape-juice consumption on cognitive function. The one on the effects of grape supplementation on physical endurance had probably been her least favorite.

  When Dr. Aguera had mentioned participating in studies, he had also encouraged her to let him look them over first so he could warn her away from any that might be too risky. “My wife—then fiancée—freaked out my first year of grad school when I participated in a trial for a sleep aid that gave me such horrific, vivid nightmares that I woke up screaming once or twice per night,” he had confided. So she had shown him every prospective flyer that caught her eye.

  “They’re not going to want you for this one,” he said, handing her another page. “They’ll be looking for subjects with a higher BMI.”

  “Oh.” Lisa had been forced to choose between paying rent and buying groceries so often since her father’s death that she was at the low end of a normal BMI. She’d been underweight, her rib cage and collarbones uncomfortably prominent, for so many months that she was actually thankful she made the scale now.

  His brows drew down as his eyes widened. “Hell no on this one. One of my other students checked it out, and the possible side effects are terrifying.”

  Lisa glanced at the page he handed her. “Really? It’s for an allergy medication.” She had seasonal allergies, so she’d thought this one would be a win-win.

  “I know. You’d think that would be okay, but…” He shuddered. “Don’t do that one.”

  “Okay.”

  He perused the next. His expression lightened as a smile dawned. “I’m tempted to try this one myself just to see who else shows up.”

  She grinned. “Is that the psychic one?”

  “Yeah. The Anomalous Cognition Research Institute,” he read. “That’s a mouthful, isn’t it?”

  She laughed.

  “They appear to be looking for psychics.” He sent her a narrow-eyed look over the paper. “You haven’t been holding out on me, have you, Holt? I could really use those winning lotto numbers.”

  She sent him a wry smile. “So could I. Then I wouldn’t have to do these trials.”

  He scanned the flyer. “They pay you for the time it takes to go through the screening program.”

  “Right. And I can do it on my lunch hour, so I won’t miss work.” She had a two-hour break between classes.

  He read a little more. “Looks like they’ll do the old What card am I holding up? test.”

  She nodded. “I checked out their website. It seems legit.”

  He handed her the flyer, then retrieved his phone from his battered briefcase. “Let me give it a look and make sure they aren’t crackpots.” A moment passed while he browsed. “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “I think their parent company might be funded by the government.”

  She frowned. “Really?” She hadn’t seen that.

  “Seems okay though,” he murmured, swiping and scrolling through the site. “Read the fine print on whatever forms they give you first. Make sure it doesn’t mention testing any drugs or herbal supplements they believe can enhance psychic abilities or anything like that. If it does, don’t commit until we check those out. Their website doesn’t really go into depth on how exactly they plan to study you if you’re selected, so if they want to do any scans that involve exposure to radiation, tell them no.”

  “You really think the government is looking for psychics?”

  He shrugged. “Wouldn’t surprise me. They’ve been known to use remote viewers in the past.”

  She stared at him. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Pretty wild, right?”

  “Right.”

  He put his phone away. “You heading over there today?”

  “May as well.”

  “Let me know how it goes,” he said with a smile as students for his next class began to meander in.

  “I will. Thanks, Dr. Aguera.”

  The Anomalous Cognition Research Institute ended up being in the basement of a pretty sleek two-story medical building. The exterior looked new and modern, lots of brick, glass, and steel. The lobby was crisp and clean with marble flooring and enough artsy accents to remind her of a high-end dermatologist’s office.

  The woman at the information desk directed Lisa to an elevator that took her down to the ACRI office. Though the basement was bright and clinically clean, it lacked the flare of the lobby and was a bit of a letdown. She would likely only see it once though, so it made little difference.

  Three women and two men—all of whom looked like fellow college students—sat in chairs, diligently writing on clipboard-supported pages. After checking in at the desk, Lisa joined them and went to work filling out a standard medical history similar to her doctor’s and responding yes or no on the included questionnaire.

  Some of the questions made her want to laugh.

  Have you ever known who was calling as soon as you heard the phone ring?

  Yes. Hasn’t everyone at one time or another?

  Have you ever known you were going to receive a package before the doorbell rang?

  Yes. Thanks to delivery tracking.

  Have you ever had a feeling or premonition that warned you something bad was about to happen?

  Yes. Every damn time my mother went to the doctor after her initial diagnosis.

  Have you ever had a prophetic dream?

  Yes. Sort of. A few months before her mother was diagnosed with cancer, Lisa had dreamed that two tornados struck her house and demolished it with both her mother and father inside. While neither of her parents had been killed by a tornado, she had still lost them both, so she’
d count it.

  Do you ever know what someone else is going to say before they say it?

  Yes. Easy to do when I know the person I’m speaking with well.

  Have you ever reached for the phone seconds before it rang?

  Yes. Who hasn’t in this phone-centric world?

  Have you ever accurately predicted the outcome of a contest or competition?

  Yes. Couldn’t anyone make a good guess here or there, particularly when they knew the odds?

  And so the questions went. The last page laid out the time requirements. She’d have to come here three days a week for one-hour sessions if chosen. Not a problem since the spring semester would end soon. The page also revealed the weekly pay each subject would be granted.

  Her eyes widened. Really? That much? Holy crap, that would help. A lot.

  Excitement rose as she wondered how the hell she could convince them she was psychic when she wasn’t.

  “Lisa Holt?” a moderately deep voice called.

  Rising, she glanced across the waiting area. “Yes?”

  A slender man about her age—twenty-six—stood in a doorway, holding a door open. He smiled. “Will you come with me please?”

  Returning his smile, she grabbed her purse in one hand, the clipboard in the other, and strode toward him.

  “How are you today?” he inquired politely.

  “Good, thank you. And you?”

  “I’m good.” He closed the door behind her. “Did you finish filling out the forms?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excellent.” He took the clipboard from her. “This way, please.”

  Looping her purse strap over her shoulder, she walked up a long hallway beside him.

  “So how did you hear about our study?” he asked. He was tall, probably nine or ten inches above her own five feet two inches, with short blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.

  Lisa was usually pretty shy, but he had a friendly way about him that put her at ease. “I saw the flyers you posted at UT.”

  “Ah. You’re a student?”

  She nodded.

  “I earned my bachelor’s degree there. I’m almost done with my masters now. Hopefully, I can pursue my doctoral at Rice University.”

  Her eyebrows flew up. “Rice? Wow. That’s big.”

  He grinned. “Yeah. It’s also hard as hell to get accepted, but I figured I might as well go for it. My employers here have put in a good word for me. I’m hoping that will help.” He paused beside an open door and motioned for her to enter. “In here, please.”

  She brushed past him and entered a room that was just large enough to accommodate a table and two chairs. It was otherwise barren, but at least the chair Lisa sank down in was comfortable.

  “Sorry for the boring decor.” He closed the door and headed around the table to the other chair. “They don’t want any distractions.”

  “Okay.”

  Sinking down in the chair, he flipped through the papers on the clipboard.

  Lisa looped the strap of her purse over the back of the chair and studied the table. A vertical board ran along the center of it, tall enough to prevent her from seeing the table surface on his side.

  “Looks like you filled out everything,” he said, setting the clipboard aside, “so we can go ahead and get started.” He offered his hand across the barrier between them with another smile. “I’m Brad, by the way.”

  She shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, Lisa.” The sound of a drawer sliding open reached her ears. A moment later, he set down what sounded like another clipboard. He then held up a deck of cards. “So, the cards in this deck have five different images on them.” He turned them to face him, fanned them, then peeled off five cards one at a time and held them up. “There’s a square, a triangle, a circle, a plus sign, and these squiggly lines that look like the river symbol you might find in a map key.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to shuffle the cards, then hold one up facing me.” He demonstrated the action, revealing the card’s plain black back. “You’ll tell me what card you think it is. I’ll make a little mark here on my paper.” He glanced down and to his right. “Then I’ll return the card to the deck, shuffle it, and hold up another.”

  “Okay.”

  He reached forward and flipped a laminated piece of paper from his side of the barrier over to hang on her side. The page depicted each of the five cards he’d shown her, aligned side by side. “In case you forget the symbols.”

  “Okay.”

  “Any questions?”

  “No.”

  “Good.” He smiled. “Here we go.”

  Lisa diligently studied each card he held up and tried to identify it. “Star. Square. Star. Star. River. Star. Plus. Plus. Circle. Star.” She didn’t know how many cards he held up, but it felt like a lot. She also wondered if perhaps she might be making some good guesses, because by the time they finished, he looked pleasantly surprised.

  “Okay. On to the next one.”

  “How’d I do?” she couldn’t resist asking. This would be an easy, high-paying gig if she could get it.

  He offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. We aren’t allowed to tell you that.”

  “Okay.”

  “Next we have a deck with four different cards.” Again, he held each up as he verbally identified it. “Red heart. Red diamond. Black spade. Black club.” He flipped another paper over to hang on the barrier, depicting the cards. “We’ll do the same thing with this test that we did with the other.”

  “Okay.”

  He shuffled the cards and began to hold them up, one by one, pausing to make a note on his clipboard after she gave each answer.

  “We have two more decks to get through. Would you like some water or something first?”

  Two more decks? “No, thank you.” She didn’t want to be late for her next class.

  “This deck consists of the primary colors red, yellow, and blue.” He showed her one of each. Her side would be black like the other cards. His side was white with a smaller rectangle of color in the center.

  Lisa silently swore. She had hoped the color on his side might go all the way to the edges so she could catch a glimpse.

  Leaning forward, he flipped the laminated pages on her side back to hang on his side. “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  He held up a card, then another and another.

  “Yellow. Blue. Blue. Red. Blue. Yellow. Red. Red.” As she called out the colors, Lisa began to suspect she was doing quite well. Brad had a very expressive face, and the farther they got into the test, the more his eyebrows rose, his eyes widened, or his lips twitched as though he fought a smile.

  Wait. Was he doing that because she was getting so many right? Or was he doing it because she was so abysmally, laughably bad at this?

  Damn. She really needed this money.

  “And the last deck we’ll use is this one,” he announced. “Each card boasts a number, ranging from zero to five.” He held one of each up to show her. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” She took a little longer with this one, really trying to get it right.

  “Don’t second-guess yourself,” he murmured.

  She glanced at him. “How did you know I was second-guessing myself?”

  “You’re taking longer and sound uncertain now.”

  “I’m just trying to get it right.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t overthink it. Just do what you were doing before. Let’s start again.”

  Did that mean she had been getting some right before?

  He held up a card.

  Lisa gave a mental shrug and did what he said, blurting out the first number that came to mind when she saw the black surface. “Four. Zero. One. One. Five. Four. Five. Two. Two. Two. Three. Two. Zero. Four.”

  Finally, he smiled. “All right. That was the last one. We’re done.”

  She smiled back. “Great.”

  After shuffling s
ome papers, he opened and closed a drawer, then rose. Lisa stood, waiting patiently while he fiddled with the papers on the clipboard he held. It looked like the one with all the forms she’d filled out, but there were more pages now. He must have added her test results.

  Rounding the table, he opened the door and motioned for her to step out into the hallway, then started off in the direction opposite the waiting room. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll just turn this in, make sure you’re compensated for your time and—if you parked in the garage—we’ll validate your ticket so you won’t have to pay a fee.”

  Lisa wished she’d known they validated parking beforehand. She had parked way the hell back in the farthest parking lot to avoid paying a fee, wanting that five dollars to go toward her light bill instead of a shady, convenient parking spot.

  Brad stayed by her side and engaged her in friendly conversation, asking what classes she was taking while a woman behind a large desk examined Lisa’s driver’s license, compared her address to that on the forms Brad handed her, then issued Lisa a cash payment.

  Cool. She had expected a check.

  Brad consulted his watch. “Yes! Time for my lunch break.” He sent her a sheepish smile. “My stomach has been growling for half an hour. I was afraid it was going to distract you during your tests.”

  Lisa laughed.

  The woman behind the desk rolled her eyes.

  Brad tapped the counter. “You want me to pick you up something, Joan?”