“You told me to stand up to bullies, Doc,” he said. “That's what you said.”
“Yeah, stand up to them. Not beat them to death.”
He looked down at Stanley and Mitchell. “Well, you'll leave me alone now, won't you? You sorry pieces of shit.”
“Hey! Language.”
Doc led Mason out of the cafeteria by the arm. They passed some nurses who were heading towards the cafeteria to tend to the bullies. Mason kept quiet as they navigated the halls. He shook free from Doc's grip, but stayed next to him. He knew where they were going.
“You shouldn't have done that, Mason,” Doc said. “Our relationship with this hospital is delicate, at best. You know this.”
“I'm so sorry. It just kills me to make your life harder.”
Doc ignored the teen's sarcasm. “This is gonna be twenty more phone calls and ten more meetings now.”
“Well, Doc, you let me out of here, and all your problems go away.”
Doc stopped in the hall and looked at Mason. “And where would you go? Did you forget you're a ward of the state?”
Mason's tone was laced with venom. “No, Doc, I didn't forget. I don't forget anything anymore. Unlike the idiots that work here. Do you know they still haven't found my parents' picture yet?”
Doc rolled his eyes. They stood in front of Mason's room. Doc ushered him inside with a wave of his hand, then Mason turned around and crossed his arms.
“I'm on lock-down, I guess?”
“I'm afraid so. I'll have to make some calls, suck up a little.”
“You have a nice day, Doc.”
Doc closed the door and locked him inside.
Mason smiled.
Lock-down meant nothing to him.
*****
Doc bought a soda from a machine in the faculty lounge. He took a deep drink before leaving.
He heard his name as he stepped into the hallway. “Albert! Hold on a second.”
Doctor Ronald Fuller jogged towards him. Doc tried to hold in laughter. He knew it was going to be an eventful day. Ronald didn't run for anything or anybody. It took very important news to make him move quickly.
“I heard Mason got in a fight,” he said. “What happened?”
Doc patted Ronald's shoulder as they walked down the hall together. “Relax, Ronald. I already left a message on the director's machine. I'm sure he'll be mad, but he'll get over it.”
“Is Mason okay?”
“Yeah. After all he's been through, two bullies are nothing.”
“Do you want to skip the underwater test today?”
Doc swallowed. He wished they could skip every test until the young man turned eighteen.
They flashed their badges as they approached the doors to their wing, and the security guard stepped aside.
“Maybe we'd better. Give him a chance to relax for a day or so.”
They walked down one more hall until they reached their lab. Various doctors and technicians were studying charts and x-rays, inputting data into computers, creating more of their Cocktail mixture. Twenty people, all devoted to the teenager that was Mason Thomas.
Doc barely had time to step into the lab before Annie, one of their best technicians, walked up to him.
“Doctor Rierson,” she said. “You've got a visitor in your office.”
He frowned. “Ah no. Another suit?”
Annie nodded and walked away.
Doc looked at Ronald. “Don't they usually tell us before they drop in?”
Ronald shrugged. “Maybe they saw something on the reports they didn't like.”
Doc took a deep breath. “Come with me. Help me handle this.”
“Sure. Then I want to spend some time on the Cocktail.” He gestured to the many reports and graphs scattered on desks and computers. “It looks like Mason's starting to develop resistance to it. I want to make it stronger.”
Doc nodded, and the duo walked across the lab. They passed the centerpiece, the metal table where Mason spent so much of his time, and approached Doc's office in the corner. He opened the door, and was caught totally by surprise.
It wasn't just a suit, it was the suit.
Ronald barely managed to keep from gasping. “Sir,” he said.
They didn't even know his name. They simply called him Mister Suit in private, and sir in public. They'd only met him twice, the last time being two years ago.
Mister Suit was in charge of everything. He'd made the deal, funded by the government, to locate Mason in Yingling. He'd put the team together, had the lab built, kept the money flowing to Yingling in exchange for housing the teenager for nine years.
They sent him reports and data every week. They barely had correspondence with him. Now he was there, sitting in Doc's office.
Mister Suit was an appropriate name. He was immaculately dressed. A custom three-piece suit, silk tie, black dress shoes. Doc couldn't spot a single wrinkle. He guessed Mister Suit was in his forties, with a full head of thick blond hair.
He extended his hand and rose from his seat.
“Doctor Rierson. Doctor Fuller,” he greeted.
Doc said nothing. Ronald tried not to stutter.
“Sir,” he said. “You should have told us you were coming. We wouldn't have kept you waiting.”
Suit just waved his hand dismissively and sat back down. Doc sat behind his desk. Ronald had no choice but to sit next to Suit. Doc could see the sweat beading on his friend's forehead.
“Gentlemen,” Suit said. “It's been a long time.”
“Yes, it has,” Doc said. “What can we do for you?”
Suit leaned back and crossed his legs. “I want to see for myself what we're investing in. Quite frankly, I'm having trouble reading the reports you send me.”
Doc almost narrowed his eyes. He knew Suit must have had just as many people outside his own office, interpreting everything they sent.
“Well,” Ronald said, before Doc could open his mouth and get them in trouble. “The work is progressing beautifully. We're much further along than we ever thought we'd get.”
“Can the subject control his projections yet?” Suit asked.
Ronald's shoulders slumped. “Not yet. Not without a healthy dose of the Cocktail.”
“Cocktail?”
“A little morphine, lorazepam, a touch of zolpidem-”
“Drugs,” Suit interrupted. “You give him drugs.”
Doc cleared his throat. “Yes. There's a slight problem. He's starting to build a tolerance to the drug. His projections are getting shorter and he's having trouble focusing when he's having them. He claims he no longer projects in his sleep, but we can't really prove that. We have to improve the drug if we want better results.”
Suit merely nodded. “What are his limits? How far can he go?”
“No limits, sir.”
“Excuse me?”
Doc was irritated. Did Suit not read any of the reports they sent? He pulled out a notepad and pen. “When Mason mind slides-”
Ronald winced as Suit held up a hand. Those were words Doc should have been smart enough not to say.
Mason and mind slide.
They learned years ago that Mason was simply the subject.
And mind slide, that was something else entirely.
“I don't really need to hear his name, Doctor Rierson,” Suit said.
Doc hesitated only for a moment, then spoke more slowly. “When Mason mind slides, he can focus on a place or person. Give him an address, complete with zip code, and he can mind slide within one hundred feet of that destination. Give him a person's name, and it's the same thing. Accurate to within one hundred feet. There are no limits, sir. He's mind slid all over the world.” He scribbled a quick address and handed it over. “That's the address of a test site we used in Japan. Give Mason the Cocktail, let him focus on the address, and he's there within minutes.”
It was obvious Suit wasn't pleased with Doc's attitude, but was intrigued at the possibilities. He leaned forward.
&
nbsp; “A person's name? What if I ask him to find John Smith?”
“Do you know a John Smith?”
“No.”
“Then it wouldn't work. We don't know how he does it ourselves. I'm sure he doesn't even know. But if his mind can't zero in on a name, especially a very common name, then he needs a picture to go with it. But if you ask him to find John Doe, and you know John Doe, he'll find him, no problem.”
Doc could see the excitement in Suit's eyes.
“Can we give the subject a set of coordinates. Latitude and longitude. Would that work like an address?”
Doc shrugged. “We honestly don't know. We can certainly work that in the testing schedule.”
Suit had the hint of a smile. “Mind slide?”
Ronald spoke up. “That's the term Ma-...the subject came up with. It's kind of caught on around the lab. Everyone thinks it sounds real cool.”
“Yeah. Very cool,” Suit said. He leaned back in his chair and studied both doctors. “I heard the subject got in a fight today. It's nothing a check or two can't fix. But I have to ask, what is the problem here?”
Doc's eyes went wide, his mouth running before Ronald could stop him.
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Does the subject have problems we should know about? We can't have him running around assaulting mental health patients.”
Doc laughed “That's a joke, right?”
Ronald winced.
“I'm not known for my humor, Doctor Rierson.”
“He lost his parents when he was five. He can't even remember them. He's been here since he was seven, playing guinea pig for us. We've done things to that boy that should haunt us the rest of our lives. Do you think any of that might have something to do with his outburst today? He stood up for himself. I'm proud of Mason, and not just because of his ability to mind slide.”
There was at least fifteen seconds of silence as Doc and Suit stared at each other.
Suit looked down at his cell phone and answered a text message. He tried to act casual, like Doc's attitude didn't bother him. All three men knew that was the furthest from the truth.
“You and your team have done excellent work,” he finally said. “I'm very excited about what the subject and his mind sliding holds for the future. Doctor Rierson, this is your team, your project, and you can run it however you want. As long as I get my results. But I feel you may be getting too emotionally involved with the subject, and you will have to remedy that. Understood?”
Doc opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to say that Mason, despite his amazing abilities, was a sixteen-year-old boy. He didn't know Mason's place in the world, but certainly it shouldn't be inside a mental health center.
But Doc knew he was replaceable, and who knew what his replacement would be capable of.
“Understood.”
Suit let out a smile. “Okay, then. I'd like a tour of the lab and the wing, if you don't mind. Then we'll get lunch. On me, of course.”
The three men rose to leave. When Suit took the lead, Ronald wiped his forehead. Doc brought up the rear, trying not to laugh at him.
None of them were aware the mind of Mason Thomas sat in the corner, listening to every word they said.
Chapter 3
Kelly Rierson paced back and forth near the bleachers as the one-hundred-meter dash went underway. She loved to run, loved practice after school. It gave her something to do and time to catch up with her friends.
But she hated the day of a track meet.
There was the anxiety all throughout the day. She could barely concentrate on any class. When she managed to think of something else for a minute or two, a friend would show up, asking her if she was ready to run her ass off.
There were the ridiculous uniforms. When she first slipped one on in ninth grade she thought it was some kind of joke. A red tank top with white shorts that a stripper would be proud of. Even the guys had to wear them.
She didn't feel like she was ugly. She had dark red hair and sparkling green eyes. She was certain Eric Johnston was going to ask her out any day now. He always stared at her in algebra. But she had a light complexion she tried to cover up as much as possible. Just ten minutes in the sun and she would burn to a crisp. When she wore her revealing uniform she felt like a bottle of milk running across the track.
Coach Walker looked up from his clipboard and spotted Kelly hiding in her usual spot by the bleachers.
“Kelly!” he called. “The two-mile is next. You warmed up and stretched?”
She nodded, annoyed at her hair rubbing the back of her neck. She pulled it back in a ponytail.
She walked up next to the track as the last heat for the one-hundred-meter started. She couldn't wait to get the run over with. Her friend Tina joined her. Tina was one of those girls that made any uniform look good. Tan body, nice breasts, shapely legs. Kelly gave her an envious look.
“You gonna beat me today?” Tina asked with a smile.
“I don't care. I just want to get under twelve minutes.”
Tina laughed. “If you do that, you'll beat me.”
Kelly glanced around the stands. There were other teenagers, parents, teachers, little brothers and sisters, even some college scouts.
She did not see her father.
Not surprising, but she was still upset. He said he'd make it, promised he'd make it. No doubt he was at work, as always, with that boy Mason.
She tried not to feel hatred at the thought of the boy's name, but it was difficult. She didn't know much about Mason, except that he was in a mental health hospital. Whenever Kelly needed her father, Mason had his attention. Kelly would come home from school, make dinner for the both of them, only to hear he already ate at the hospital with Mason. When she broke up with her first boyfriend last year, she desperately wanted to talk with her father. The only thing he wanted to talk about was how much progress Mason was making.
She could understand why Mom left him when she was a baby.
She sighed as she watched the bleachers. No family, no friends to cheer her on, like always.
Her breath caught in her chest as her eyes fell on Eric Johnston.
He sat alone on top of the bleachers with his elbows resting on his knees, scanning the field. He ran a hand through his hair. Kelly thought she would faint.
She quickly turned back toward the track and tried to breathe slow and steady.
Tina put a hand on her shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“Eric is here.”
Tina turned to see for herself. She let out a smile. “You'd better run fast today then.” She gestured to the starting line. “We're up.”
Kelly and Tina were the only girls from their school entered in the two-mile run. There were about fifteen other girls from different schools. Kelly still felt like every eye was on her. She tried to disappear in between the other girls, all bunched up at the starting line. Knowing Eric was in the stands made her want to vomit.
The starter gun fired, and the race was on.
Kelly started out strong, like she always did. After a half mile she had a solid second place position. She mentally slapped herself as she approached the end of mile number one. She was too worried about the other runners, a weakness she always had. She sometimes struggled to focus on herself and her own time.
She stole a glance at Eric as she finished another lap.
So much for focusing.
With two laps to go, something surprising happened. The lead runner started to slowly fade back. She couldn't keep up the pace she started. Kelly knew it wasn't a big deal to finish first. The ultimate goal was to beat her time from the last meet.
Still, it felt great to cross the line ahead of everyone else.
She immediately went to the side to stay out of the other runners' way. Coach Walker always told the runners to keep walking after a race, never just stop dead. Kelly never followed that advice. She leaned over, her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. Coach Walker put an arm around her shoulders and leaned d
own with her.
“That was a great run. You okay?”
She nodded and pointed to her lungs, then at her wrist. Coach understood and looked at his stopwatch.
“Eleven fifty-one,” he said with a smile. “You just made it.”
Tina finished thirty seconds behind Kelly. She crossed the line and joined her friend near the bleachers.
“Did you finish first?” Tina said between breaths.
Kelly smiled and nodded.
“So lucky.”
They both laughed.
Kelly looked up to the bleachers. Random people she recognized from school clapped and cheered at her. It was a feeling she wasn't quite used to.
Her mood fell when she saw her father still wasn't there. Part of her hoped he'd show up in the middle of her run. She'd look up and see him cheering for her. It would have been a great surprise.
She should have been used to her father never being there. He seldom was for anything. Why would a track meet be different?
At least Eric came to watch her.
She looked for him on the top row of the bleachers. When she saw him she felt a slight stab of pain in her heart.
He had his arms wrapped around Meghan Dullaney, the school's top hurdler. They were laughing and kissing as he leaned toward her to whisper in her ear.
It hit her all at once. Of course Eric would go for Meghan. She was one of the prettiest girls in school. Meghan sat right behind her in algebra class. Eric had been staring at Meghan the entire time, not her.
She just ran her best two-mile time, finished first, and she never felt worse in her life.
“What's wrong?” Tina asked.
Kelly gestured to the stands. Tina winced when she saw the public display of affection.
“I'm so sorry. Meghan just broke up with her ex a week ago. I guess her and Eric have been keeping secrets.”
Coach Walker blew his whistle and announced it was time to clean up. The track meet was officially over. Other schools' runners climbed into their buses while everyone else started to gather the hurdles and pads. Home track meets were terrible.
“Do you want a ride home?” Tina asked.
Kelly shook her head. No doubt another reason she couldn't catch Eric's eye. She couldn't drive.
Mind Slide Page 2