The Mind's Eye, page 8
He ran his eyes over the crowd and smiled. Six of them were Marines or regular army; five came from the Air Force and the remainder came from the intelligence community. They’d had a chance to compare notes and had probably realised that they had only one thing in common. They were all over-achievers, the men and women who were just very good at their jobs. It made him wonder if telepathy, even if used without any awareness of what they were doing, was involved somehow.
The research staff had advised him to break it to them gently. Art knew his fellow Marines, at least, well enough to know that they wouldn’t tolerate any bullshit. He intended to break it to them as bluntly as possible. He wondered, suddenly, if any of the Marines knew him personally, but he didn’t recognise any of them. It might have made it easier for them to believe him.
“Recently,” Art said, “I developed telepathic abilities while on deployment.”
He didn’t need to be a telepath to sense the waves of disbelief rolling towards him, emanating from the seated men and women. It took everything he had not to recoil in pain as their emotions poured into his head, but somehow he remained upright and focused. Briefly, as quickly as he could, he ran through a brief explanation and then an outline of what had happened in New York. That received some surprised looks; there had been rumours that something odd had happened in New York and telepathy would explain it nicely. Or so they thought.
“If that is true,” a short man wearing an Army Ranger tab said, “please would you tell me what I am thinking of right now.”
Art had to smile at the challenge in his tone. He liked the Ranger on sight, even if he was a Ranger and therefore not quite as good as Force Recon. Art concentrated, reached out towards the Ranger’s mind and had to smile. The Ranger was thinking about having sex with Bugs Bunny.
“You have a filthy mind,” Art said, and told everyone. The Ranger gaped at him. Simon Hawking had deliberately thought of something no one would consider believable. Art sensed the sudden flurry of fear – fear that he might be peeking into their thoughts – that ran through the group. The look on Hawking’s face was unmistakable. “Why did you think about Bugs Bunny?”
Hawking leered. “My girlfriend and I once dressed up as Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck for charity,” he explained. “Afterwards, we were so tired that we couldn’t be bothered getting undressed before we had sex and…”
“Oh,” Art said. He carefully held back the other comment that rose to mind and cleared his throat loudly. “The important part of the story is that I have a telepathic spike in my brain…and you have it too. You are, at least potentially, telepaths like me. What we intend to do here is to unlock your powers and put you to work serving your country.”
There was a long uncomfortable pause. “Sir,” one of the women said, finally, “what do we have to do to get out of this chicken-shit outfit?”
Art gave it to her straight. “If it doesn’t work,” he assured her, “you will be returned to your unit with a letter of commendation. If it does, you may discover that working with us is more rewarding. I helped catch a set of very dangerous terrorists and save New York City. You may end up doing the same.”
There was a second pause. Art knew what they were thinking, even without reading their minds. None of them wanted to attempt to become telepaths, although he was sure that at least a few of them were tempted by the prospect. They wanted to continue to serve in their units, instead of abandoning them on the whim of a crazy officer’s scheme. He wondered if their reluctance to accept that telepaths were real – or that they had telepathic powers themselves – was driven by fear that they would never be able to live a normal life again.
The thought made him smile inwardly. Somehow, after the operation in New York, he’d accepted it without quite admitting it to himself. A Marine Lieutenant – even a Force Recon Marine Lieutenant – was replaceable. Sergeant Bass was probably breaking in yet another green lieutenant right now. A telepath – so far, as far as they knew, the only telepath – was unique. If it meant that he could no longer be a Marine, at least he’d found a worthy cause.
But the others would not accept it so quickly.
“If we agree to go through with this,” the woman said, even though Art knew that she knew that there was no choice, “what will happen to us?”
“You will be tested,” Art said, and refused to be drawn any further. The researchers had drawn up a whole list of experiments – Art had vetoed two of them on the grounds that they were too dangerous – and were looking forward to trying them out. It made Art think of the blind leading the blind, or carrying out delicate surgery by touch alone, without any prior training or experience. God alone knew what was going to happen. He wasn’t even sure if it was legal. “Unless you have any further questions, we’ll make a start at once.”
“I have one,” Hawking said. “Is this telepathic power good for picking up hot chicks?”
“You’re not allowed to talk anymore,” Art said, firmly.
***
Alice watched from behind a one-way mirror as the potential telepaths started to undergo the procedure that should – in theory – allow them to develop their telepathic powers. Doctor Sampson had explained it to her, but Alice had only been able to follow about one word in ten of a very complicated explanation. The gist of it – as she’d been able to establish after he’d finally finished the main explanation – was that the doctors intended to use electrodes to stimulate parts of the brain and hopefully allow the patients to develop telepathy.
She watched as one of the female patients, stripped down to her underwear, was placed on a surgical chair. The doctor attached the electrodes to her forehead and took the baseline readings, checking that she was thinking properly before the experiments began. The woman looked nervous and Alice didn’t blame her. She’d been briefed that the CIA had developed a way to stimulate emotions in a person’s mind, yet she also knew that the process was not one hundred percent reliable. An oversight committee had cancelled the process on ethical grounds after an experimental subject somehow became overwhelmed with bliss and ended up trapped in a permanent high.
When she’d been young, she’d read about experiments carried out by doctors – if they deserved the name – in Nazi Germany. It had surprised her to discover that the CIA carried out its own experiments, although she had to admit that the CIA was a great deal more moral about the whole process. The experiments were carried out on volunteers or, in a handful of rare cases, on Death Row prisoners. Some of the fruits of the covert research programs had found their way into the public domain. Even so, the whole process disturbed her on a visceral level.
She liked Captain Russell – not least because he hadn’t made a pass at her when they’d wound up sharing the same room – but she didn’t know the other potential telepaths. If the experiments worked, they’d end up with fifteen telepaths in all, who would probably be distributed among the various intelligence and counter-terrorism agencies. And what would happen then? Alice knew, even if Captain Russell didn’t, that they’d gotten lucky with Patel. If the SWAT team hadn’t been able to find enough evidence to implicate him, a great many hard questions would have been asked, starting with the obvious one of how they’d known to pick him up.
An alert tone rang through the observation room and she turned back to watch the woman. The doctors had strapped her to the table and the experiment was about to begin. Alice didn’t want to watch, but she felt as if she had no choice. It was her duty.
***
The emotions running through the room were loud enough to make him want to flee and head back to his quarters, but Art forced himself to remain in the room as the first experiment began. The woman on the table had had the highest rating on the scale and so the doctors had chosen to start with her, using both the induced emotions and a tailored group of drugs to bring out the telepathic ability. Art could sense her fear – almost panic – as they placed the skullcap on her head and started tapping the computers. The timer was counting down …
Art cringed as a blast of absolute terror blazed through the room. He staggered and then found himself on the floor, his head reeling in pain and horror. Before he could get up, another blast of terror flashed though the room, followed rapidly by a third and then a fourth. He opened his mouth to demand that the experiment was halted, but it was already too late. There was a fifth burst of absolute terror … and then the woman’s mind opened wide. Art pulled himself to his feet and yanked the doctor away from the controls. The woman’s telepathy had flowered suddenly and violently, just like his had back in Afghanistan. She was reading, without any preparation, the mind of everyone in the room, Art included. A moment later, before he could do anything, she fainted.
“Take her to the recovery room and clean her up,” the doctor ordered, calmly. Art wrinkled his nose. The woman had been so terrified that she’d lost control of her bowels and bladder. “We’ll move operations to the next room until this one can be cleared.”
Art stalked away, angrily. The experiment had worked … and he felt ashamed of what he’d done, or started, just by developing his abilities. Who knew where it would all end?
***
The experiments were a success with twelve of the potential telepaths, in the end. One of the men resolutely refused to develop any telepathic powers; one of the women went into a coma and nothing they could do would bring her out of it. Art cursed the doctors aloud, but they and his new superiors were unmoved. A legion – or even a platoon – of telepaths was worth any risk. He suspected – the superiors had refused to meet with him or the other telepaths – that they’d already decided that some potential telepaths were expendable, as long as they developed a small number of telepaths under their control.
Once the new telepaths recovered, however, they made progress by leaps and bounds. It was easy to tell when one telepath was probing another’s mind and they held competitions to develop ways of shielding their thoughts from other mind-readers. The embarrassments that Art and most of the others had anticipated didn’t materialise, although the non-telepaths in the base tended to give them all a wide berth when contact wasn’t absolutely necessary. At least it was becoming easier to block out the thoughts of others, telepaths or not, now they could practice on each other. Art suspected that it wouldn’t be long before several of them were deployed to work in other covert interrogation teams, but for the moment they could act least practice. It was much easier when he had someone to talk to who genuinely understood what telepathy was like.
The other discovery was that, with effort, they could actually send telepathic messages from mind to mind. They couldn’t reach a non-telepath, sadly, but they could contact each other at a quite considerable distance. Once they’d mastered it, the telepaths had started using it to talk in private, knowing that the watchers – the entire base was still under scrutiny – couldn’t listen to them. Art had a private suspicion that the effects of that were still undiscovered. Who knew where it would all end?
The day afterwards, four of the telepaths received marching orders to join various intelligence agencies. Art waved them off, knowing that they would still be in touch mentally. As far as they could tell, telepathic messages didn’t seem to have any range limitations, although they’d never been that far apart since blossoming into telepathy.
And, somehow, they’d never gotten around to describing that ability to the researchers. It would only have upset them.
Interlude One
CLASSIFIED: LOOKING GLASS EYES ONLY
From: Project Looking Glass Analysis Team
To: Looking Glass Distribution List
Classification: Looking Glass Cleared Individuals Only
As per the directive from Langley, we have been carrying out experiments into the alleged mental powers demonstrated by Subject Alpha. The results of the tests have proved that Subject Alpha possesses genuine mental powers. A series of tests were devised and conducted – see attached document – with the intention of qualifying the nature and limitations of these powers, as well as devising a test in the hopes of locating others with comparable abilities.
Subject Alpha is essentially capable of reading minds. Going from his testimony, it is extremely difficult to control the ability, let alone neutralise it. (Closing the mind’s eye appears to be impossible.) The ability does not appear to follow logical rules, at least as we understand them. Subject Alpha is incapable of reading the mind of a person five meters away when he is unable to see the person; but is capable of reading the mind of a person ten meters away, provided that he is able to see the person.
There appear to be several levels to the ability. First and foremost, Subject Alpha is capable of reading the emotions of a person speaking to him, even at quite a considerable distance. This ability turns him into an organic lie detector. He claims that he can always tell when a person is knowingly lying to him; their words are shaded with falsehood. It seems impossible to fool him.
Second, Subject Alpha is capable of reading the surface thoughts of another human being. To use a specific example, he asks a question and then reads the answer out of the target’s mind. The truth apparently floats to the top of the mind – his words – even if the target chooses to lie verbally.
Thirdly, Subject Alpha is capable of digging into a person’s deeper thoughts and memories. This process is apparently unreliable as the target can distract him by thinking about other thoughts and memories. To some extent, this process requires physical contact; the wags on the base have already termed it the ‘Vulcan Mind Meld.’
Subject Alpha does not appear to be capable of influencing or controlling other human minds. Despite some experiments, he is also unable to use telekinetic abilities or remote viewing.
As Subject Alpha scored highly on the ESP test administered to all new recruits into the military – his specific test was administered at Parris Island – other high-scorers were tested and pushed into developing telepathic abilities. It is recommended that others who scored highly be also tested for telepathic ability. However, as Subject Alpha’s abilities appeared under stress, it is likely that others (i.e. not people involved with Looking Glass) will develop telepathic powers on their own, without medical intervention or support (see attached file). All field commands should be alerted to watch for signs of stress that might lead to a telepathic breakthrough.
It should not need to be stated that this is both an opportunity and a considerable security threat. A telepath with comparable abilities could pull classified data out of the mind of a security-cleared person, who would not know that their mind had been read and that the data was loose. (A handful of people on the base were able to sense Subject Alpha’s mental touch; interestingly, they also scored high on the ESP test administered at intake.) If other telepaths appear, we may be forced to face rapid and unpleasant social changes when the details become public.
In line with that, I have several possible recommendations…
CLASSIFIED: LOOKING GLASS EYES ONLY
Chapter Nine
Yusuf Mohammad Patel, arrested four weeks ago on charges of terrorism, claimed in a court hearing that his mind was read by government agents without his consent. This marks the third such claim surrounding the New York City Dirty Bombers, a claim that has been roundly dismissed by the government. In a statement issued to the media, the NSA stated that while some evidence had to remain secret for reasons of national security, the evidence discovered with the bombers was enough to convict them.
-AP News Report, 2015
“So tell me,” Professor Benjamin Zeller said, “how are we today?”
Elizabeth Tyler scowled at him. Zeller looked rather like a genial – and mobile – version of President Roosevelt, but his smile concealed a razor-sharp mind and an obsession with the paranormal that led him to spend his own money on his private quest. Elizabeth knew that she shouldn’t mind too much – after all, his money was helping her get through college – yet he could be irritating, all the more so when she had a date with her boyfriend lined up in a few hours.
Two years ago, when she had moved to college to study for her degree, she had underestimated how much it cost to maintain a respectable student lifestyle. She’d blown through her funds alarmingly quickly and had been reduced to begging her parents for money, a source that had started to dry up after the third time she’d gone home, hat in hand. It was hard to get good jobs while being a student and some of the jobs were downright sleazy. As a young brunette with a perfect figure – or so she considered herself – she was a magnet for all kinds of indecent proposals. One recruiter had even offered her dollars for posing naked on a website. She had been seriously considering the offer – she had been that desperate – when a friend had pointed her to Professor Zeller’s program. Elizabeth hadn’t expected much, but the reward had been surprisingly high. They’d been offered fifty dollars just for completing a test.
Elizabeth had been surprised to be called back a few days later by the Professor himself, who had explained that her tests scores had been very high and offered to work with her to develop her psychic abilities. Elizabeth had been stunned. It wasn’t uncommon for college students to be given all kinds of tests and she honestly hadn’t realised that the test she’d undergone had been intended to measure ESP. She’d thought it was just an odd survey for psychological research. It had crossed her mind that it was a joke – or another attempt by a lecturer of dubious integrity to get her into bed – but she’d been offered a hundred dollars for each successive test. That, she’d decided, was too much for a joke.
“Tired and headachy,” she said, finally. The headache had been pounding in her temples all day, despite swallowing twice the recommended level of painkillers. “Do you think that we could get on with it? I have to be home early tonight.”
