His contribution to the conspiracy was both prospectively valuable and time sensitive. He only had minutes to reach his office in order to not miss P’s weekly phone call! He gave a weekly account of his progress to P every Tuesday at 7 pm sharp! When he walked into his office, the time on the clock said 7. Luckily for him the red-color cell phone had just started to vibrate.
“Yes?” he said, a little out of breath.
“It’s me. Do we have something? I’m all ears…” The deep voice was familiar at this point but there was no trace of friendliness in his words.
“I’m not quite sure yet, but I think we might have a chance with one of the clients of this EM.” Oscar picked up a pen off his desk and started clicking the top nervously.
“What is it about?”
“It’s about a case I had mentioned about a month ago. Something new has come up.”
“I’m listening!” the disembodied voice announced impatiently.
“In a random check of identity that every two weeks the police forces us to make, his identification papers came up as being forged.”
“And…?”
“I found out his true identity and as it turns out he has a psychiatric history. He has been hospitalized several times in the past for his murderous impulses.” Oscar hoped that P would be satisfied with the news he was sharing. He personally found this development to be very promising.
“So he has a criminal record?”
“No. He never went through with an attempt.”
“Well… it’s a long shot. Experience is needed for our purpose.” P was never one to show any enthusiasm.
“I am aware of that. I still think we might get a fast result from him. He’s very eager to go through with his emotional invasive procedure. He actually intends to buy the maximum volumes allowed in many emotions.”
“Apparently this must be good.”
Oscar dropped the pen and slammed his hand down on his desk in excitement.
“Yes, it is ideal! No one with a psychiatric record is allowed to buy the maximum volume of an emotion! Let alone several…”
“Because…”
Oscar thought this was obvious, but he wasn’t trying to get on P’s bad side, whoever he was, so he went on to explain.
“Because… of the unprecedented agitation that will occur in his mind! He’ll find it impossible to control.”
“And how is this of any use to us?”
“He will get absolutely crazy if he doesn’t fulfill the objective that will be imposed to him.” Oscar’s nervous energy had now led him to walk in circles around his desk. The excitement of taking part in such a monumental, if nefarious, task made him feel more alive than he had felt in quite a while.
“So you’re certain that you are able to impose our objective on him?” P asked in an even tone.
“I’m very optimistic. Such cases are rare though, but I think he could be just the right candidate for the job.” He didn’t want to oversell it just in case, but he really felt he had found the perfect candidate for their purposes.
“Go ahead and do it if you think we have a chance. There are so many other candidates you know. There’s no reason why we can’t try with him as well – the more the merrier!”
“In any case, we have no risk of exposure with this one. I am not obliged to inform the police about false identification papers. It’s only wishful thinking on their part.” That was the best part for Oscar – minimal risk with great reward.
“How convenient…”
Oscar finally settled into his plush leather office chair.
“Indeed! I have already deleted his records from the system.”
“What about a possible crosscheck?”
“That’s the best part! There isn’t any! As far as I am concerned, his papers are legit. The system never traced him. Thankfully they failed to foresee this parameter. It is an opportunity that we won’t have in a month or so. It won’t be long until the police update their identity cross-reference system,” Oscar said hoping for some kind of acknowledgement for his brilliant work, but he knew it was extremely unlikely.
“Continue as planned then. The target should be prominent and not directly related to EM tech. It’s up to you to decide.”
“Perfect! I will do my best!”
“I underestimated you, Oscar. I see that I was wrong… Contact me only if you have secured the target; otherwise, we’ll talk again in a week.”
Was that a compliment? He would take it!
“The incident will occur within this week. I’m thinking the major New York event that’s coming up.”
“You mean the…”
“Don’t say it! That’s affirmative!” Oscar spun around in his chair, happy with the way this conversation was going.
“If you manage to pull this through, it’ll be ideal for our goal. Be very cautious though and… best of luck!”
His part in all this was well organized… Oscar Johnson may not have been a scrupulous doctor, but he was so much more… He was a good golfer, had a remarkable collection of old stamps and a well-preserved body for his age. If one would weigh his pros and cons, one would agree that his strongest advantage as a psychiatrist was his ability to flawlessly get inside his patients’ heads. He had a natural talent for it. His only problem was that it wasn’t moral to project his own ideas to his patients. He often had succeeded in eliminating the persecution complex from some patients but was never paid extra for his services. It was counterintuitive. But now was different ... He could finally use this talent of his to achieve the objective. Each successful goal translated to $1 million for him in an untraceable bank account.
Funniest thing of all was that he, like any other employee of an EM, had to undergo measurement of the current intensity of specific emotions. One of these emotions, perhaps the most important, was remorse. The acceptable intensity of remorse was 20%. This emotion was directly related to criminal behavior or a vaguely guilty conscience. Both cases disqualified a person from applying for a job in the EM Company. The candidates that appeared to have remorse intensity greater than the acceptable 20% were given two options. One was to modify their remorse intensity to the required level via an emotional invasive procedure. Two was to look elsewhere for a job.
Dr Johnson wasn’t given either of the two options. Quite simply, his remorse intensity was measured at a staggering 7%. He had no remorse whatsoever! Even as a child he lacked consciousness. Oscar Johnson was a dangerous man.
It was open to interpretation whether he was more dangerous than some of his patients, who of course were utterly deranged.
CHAPTER 18
LONDON EM
London, England
At first sight a group of young people discussing in a café held no interest for Ashton Delaware. However, these ones were talking about something hot! This would surely make his lunchtime more enjoyable. His table was a couple of feet from theirs. He could easily eavesdrop while holding before him the paper he was supposed to be reading. He ordered a latte and a sandwich from the waitress. He knew what he meant to do was hardly acceptable, but on the other hand nobody could blame him for his innate curiosity regarding what was happening around him, even though it was none of his business. It was a typical, rainy London day. Convent Garden Square was pulsing despite the rain. He could have sat somewhere else, but what he had heard was in fact the reason of his visit to England. One of the teenagers had informed the others, and without realizing it Ashton as well, that Claire was coming to tell them all about the invasive procedure she had undergone. They were all excited but he, who was the most thrilled, did not show it. Ashton kept a straight face. His enthusiasm, which had to manifest itself somehow, caused him to raise his upper lip slightly, full of satisfaction with what he had just heard. He would soon witness a discussion on the Emotion Markets. That’s what he was looking for; To get a grasp, of young people’s questions and doubts if any. From the way they went on about it, he thought they had no experience in emotional p
rocedures. Claire must be the first one of them to try it and obviously her opinion of the procedure would influence the others. The snobbiest young woman, as far as Ashton could see, looked down in advance at what Claire had done.
“I am surprised the first thing Claire corrected is her feelings.”
Someone asked her to elaborate and she went on to point out things necessary for Claire. She seemed to believe a stylish purse or a trendy coat, were more important for any woman with Claire’s style deficiencies. The fact that most of her friends seemed not to agree with her superficial opinions on what was important in life pleased Ashton. There had to be a balance. Considering clothes and accessories of more vital importance than emotions was unheard of in that day and age. However, one could always find fools anywhere.
The English edition of Vogue magazine had taken the first step. On March’s front cover wasn’t yet another super model with expensive clothes but the artistic depiction of a certain emotion. According to the magazine, getting rid of it was the absolute “in style” thing to do.
Jealousy!
Ashton thought that if he had not had his anger curbed in his latest procedure, he could have got up and offended the well-dressed young woman. He laughed…two of the five friends turned their heads to look at him. His eyes were fixed on his paper, wet from the rain. He hadn’t been found out. Fortunately those observing him turned their heads back again.
He was served some hideous coffee. It was always the same rotten coffee in that part of London. There was absolutely no flavor! “There she is!” a young man shouted enthusiastically and everybody turned in her direction. He was stunned on seeing Claire who had just reached her friends. She was gorgeous and gave out a sense of peace and self-confidence. Of course she could seem so, based on what he knew.
Seriously, there would have to be research elaborating on the placebo effect on people’s lives.
The lovely Claire might not have had an emotional invasive procedure. She could also never have heard of the Emotion Markets. However, knowing she had just finished shopping for emotions made Ashton think there was a certain glow to her.
They immediately asked her how she was, how she felt. Claire replied she was fine but it was rather too soon to tell whether there was any difference. Ashton noticed her friends were reluctant to ask which emotions she had bought. They kept asking her irrelevant details such as what the service and place were like at the Emotion Market. Everything was super high-tech and minimal on the 17th floor of the Shard….For a minute Ashton believed they would never ask her what she had purchased. He was proven wrong by the girl who had earlier shown a clear preference towards purses and bags versus emotions.
“Will you tell us what you bought or will you keep us guessing?”
“I didn’t think it mattered to anyone…?
“But that’s the gist, isn’t it?”
“Of course…but revealing which emotions one bought is rather too personal. I don’t…”
“You certainly didn’t have shame reduced,” said one of the boys sarcastically.
“It’s not a matter of shame, Kevin. It’s more bashfulness, I would say. Which emotions one wants increased or reduced, I now understand is a very personal matter. If we had the courage to talk about emotions openly, this technology may not have been necessary;”
“You mean you won’t tell us!” the other girl insisted heatedly.
“I’ll tell you. I’m just kidding. What’s the point of having an emotional invasive procedure if you don’t talk about it?” Claire said merrily pulling up the right sleeve of her blouse. A titanium bracelet shone on her wrist. A bar-code was engraved next to the logo of the Emotion Market. The bar-code represented the emotions she had modified. Apart from being a piece of jewelry, it was a constant reminder that the bearer of the bracelet was in the process of sentimental upgrading and training. Claire spoke with enthusiasm. At the next table Ashton was confused. He tried to interpret Claire`s way of thinking, but it was hard for him to follow everything that was said. The five friends seemed more enthusiastic about Claire’s titanium bracelet for the time being. The only one that seemed aloof till then was the most serious one in the group. He was also clearly Claire’s boyfriend.
“Babe, please tell us what you bought,” he asked her.
“Yes honey. Sorry, but it’s all extremely overwhelming.”
She went on talking calmly and revealed the feelings she had bought were enthusiasm, self-confidence and jealousy. She had had the former two increased and the latter reduced. Vogue magazine hadn’t convinced her to eradicate jealousy. For her first invasive procedure, enthusiasm and self-confidence were increased to a satisfactory degree. She had discussed it at length with the service manager at the Emotion Market. Claire was pleased to hear the manager was a psychologist and not some ignorant salesperson. He had helped her quite a lot to decide how much of each feeling she needed to modify.
Her enthusiasm count was particularly low. It was one of the reasons why she occasionally used drugs. She admitted as much to the service manager. It is common knowledge, he told her, that young people often turn to drugs for lack of a feeling. The enthusiasm she was buying would help her a lot. No doubt about that! Her life would be better. As she would be able to enjoy small pleasures without any doubts or mistrust she would feel more complete.
“What did you expect the manager to say? He wanted to make a sale…” Claire’s boyfriend said.
“Don’t be a fool, Denis! I asked and he answered. There was no manipulation whatsoever. Well, let me continue…Increasing enthusiasm doesn’t involve feeling permanent euphoria. It just allows you to face everyday life in a more relaxed way. Like when you are in love.”
“I suppose now you have done it you’ll expect me to do it too,” Denis said obviously displeased.
“That’s up to you, baby. It isn’t recommended unless you yourself believe you need it.”
They all said what they thought at that point and Ashton was pleased with the diversity of opinions expressed before him. Or rather next to his ears, as he did not want them to know he was eavesdropping. He settled for reading the headlines of the economics section of the newspaper for the 8th time.
He sat there for about 40 minutes. Having already reached his conclusion, he paid no more attention to the young people discussing heatedly. Society was taking its first steps towards understanding this new medical technology and it was natural for conflicting views to exist. Emotional diversity! Which emotions one bought was of course a personal matter. Everyone’s prefrontal cerebral cortex contained different experiences, memories and feelings. There was a unique emotional print and maybe people knew that subconsciously. There was no reason why a fashion magazine would urge its readers to do away with jealousy en masse. The volume of jealousy in men and women had to do with their whole lives. A common way of dealing with an emotion by everyone made absolutely no sense, as people’s lives were not the same. Claire had no particular experience in the Emotion Market, but she seemed to have grasped it. Perhaps by nature she did not feel the need to follow fashion blindly. Not everybody was like her, though, and Ashton was sure that many young women would go along with the prompting on the front page of Vogue. The results would be disastrous…Jealousy was linked to many other emotions and eradicating it meant life would be influenced in many ways impossible to predict. He would ask the ICEC members to put it on the agenda at the meeting tonight. Besides, that was their function. To listen, observe and suggest solutions to emotional mix ups that potentially would have a vast impact on society. He loved his job. It was a job that did not exist in the past; it had recently been invented. He himself had highlighted the necessity of its existence to Caroline Emerson the second time they had met.
What an extraordinary creature she was…
Ashton often wondered whether the young doctor fully realized the value of her discovery. He was so envious of Caroline! He was certain life in the future would be totally different due to the Emotion Markets.
It would present infinite potential and certainty of evolution while until recently there had only been possibilities and questions. Parameters calculated only with some software on statistics would soon be replaced by mathematically accurate results adapted to emotional background. It was almost divine. He felt very lucky to be chosen to play an active part in all this. And yet something was missing. He couldn’t interpret even to himself the sudden bewilderment and aversion he was experiencing. Walking along the pedestrian zone of Convent Garden, he felt too small to be involved in society’s emotional control. Who were he and the others at ICEC to decide the direction the people’s emotional balance would take? They all meant well, at least they seemed to at their meetings. They made lists of emotions, good and less good, their possible correlations and set the limits and rules that should govern the use of the Emotion Markets. Who were they to decide what others should or should not do? He wandered around. He felt unable to marshal this thought. Diplomas, doctorates, lectures and innumerable scientific publications came back to laugh at him in the most obscene way. You are nobody, a mere commoner…Maybe it was God speaking to him. Suddenly the black taxi coming from the right at high speed looked like a solution. Two steps forward. That’s all it would take. Two steps forward and everything would be over. How to come to terms with the huge responsibility weighing down on him? It wasn’t exclusively his obviously, but that was beside the point. Maybe God had chosen him. Just him! In a split second he got a grip on himself. His footsteps were steady and fast now. His legs were directly linked to his conscious mind. He had to get to the 17th floor of the Shard as soon as possible. He didn’t need an appointment. He was a member of the ICEC. His fear of the responsibility had multiplied. It was awful. He had to get rid of it!
EMOTION MARKET: the Tailor of Hearts - A gripping psychological thriller Page 14
