by Marie Harbon
“It sounds fantastic.”
That was an understatement.
“Of course, you’ll need a remote viewer who is capable of this kind of advanced work.”
That had been the only barrier, aside from persuading Max.
“I have someone here at The Institute who’ll be perfect for this project. She’s shown astounding potential so far and I believe if anyone can pull this off, she can. However, she does have study commitments and duties here at The Institute, so I can only lease her to you once a week at the most, hence, the twelve month long trial. Is that a reasonable acceptance of your proposal?”
It was all falling into place quite nicely.
“I’m happy with that,” Paul replied.
“Don’t forget you have my project to work on too, we need a method of protection against other remote viewers. I’m depending on you for this.”
“Don’t worry,” Paul reassured him. “When can I meet this new remote viewer?”
“I’ll send her over in a few weeks time. Her name is Tahra.”
Max hung up and Paul breathed a sigh of relief. Success! All he had to do was meet this remote viewer and see what she could do. He wondered what she was like, and why nobody had mentioned her before.
***
As Tahra stood outside Max’s office at The Institute, tumultuous feelings churned around inside her. She had to face him again, something she wished to avoid after her behaviour at the birthday meal. So far, they’d evaded each other and now that stalemate had to be addressed. She wondered what he wanted from her.
After knocking, she heard Max say ‘come in’ and she fumbled with the handle as she opened the door. Feeling awkward and humble for a change, she entered and found Max, sat at the desk with a pen in his hand. For a brief moment, she thought she saw something other than indifference on his face, but his cool demeanour soon returned. She took a deep breath and decided to hold her head high.
“You can sit down,” he said, with a vague hint of weariness in his voice.
Silence impregnated the air for a few minutes, both people in the room trying to push aside everything that had happened in the States earlier that year. Regrets weren’t expressed, remorse gestated but any kind of reconciliation was certainly not on the cards.
“There’s been an unexpected addition to the programme,” Max began. “I know you’re very busy at the moment with your study and the projects at The Institute, but there’s something I can offer you that will be an amazing opportunity, the perfect challenge for you. In fact, I believe you’re the only one who can do it.”
Tahra felt bolstered by his show of faith.
“In a few days, you’ll be dropped off at a sister facility called The Establishment, where you’ll meet a long time colleague of mine whose name is Dr. Paul Eldridge. When you convene, he’ll explain the project and what he wants from you.”
She wondered if Dr. Eldridge was the person she saw leaving Oscar and George a few months ago, the man with shoulder length, fair hair. At the time, instincts had alerted her to the possibility that this man was significant in her future. Maybe her instincts were correct. What was the project, and why could only she pull it off?
Max tapped his pen on the table, and looked as if he wanted to say something. Tahra opened her mouth, feeling like something wished to escape her lips but neither of them said a word. Max changed his mind and resumed scribbling while Tahra sighed inwardly, the stalemate would resume.
She returned to her room, realising she held onto hope of a relationship that deep down, she knew was toxic. Meanwhile, in his office, Max scribbled without focus. Although she still occupied his thoughts on a daily basis, it also occurred to him they were both poison for each other. However, should they choose further intoxication, or the path of sanity?
***
I finally started my course of study at university in the latter part of September 1964, cementing part of the agreement between Max and my father. Psychology really interests me, as I love to delve into what makes people tick. Maybe it will enable me to understand men, Max in particular.
He dropped another assignment on me, and it felt strange confronting him again. Deep down, I hoped it would be possible to resolve the issues that hung around like a stale stench, but that didn’t happen. Anyway, it turned out he enlisted me on a project that seemed tailor made for me, working alongside someone called Dr. Paul Eldridge. I believe this new project is highly significant in my life’s purpose, something I sought vociferously.
I arrived at another facility called The Establishment, and a tingle of excitement pulsed through my nervous system as Max’s Daimler pulled into the gravelled driveway. His driver directed me to Dr Eldridge’s office, although he hadn’t arrived yet. Sitting in a very comfortable armchair, I twiddled my thumbs, aware of how nervous I felt.
Pacing the room, I tried to imagine what he’d be like. Would he be the stereotypical eccentric scientist, all weird and difficult to converse with? Maybe he’d be quite human, although intelligent and professional. While waiting, I flicked through some of his books, although they were about quantum physics and religion, so may as well have been written in Chinese. Why was he taking so long?
It figured I really should make a lasting impression. Throwing caution to the wind, I sat in Dr Eldridge’s office swivel chair and tried to arrange myself in a manner that would stop him dead in his tracks. Should I look elegant and cross my legs? Should I be leaning forward on his desk, ready for action? I decided that was all too tame and put my feet up on his desk, with a book in my hand. Was this going to be too outrageous? Well, I was going to find out.
***
Paul burst through his office door at The Establishment, slightly befuddled due to running late. On entering the room, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the new remote viewer sitting in his chair. He became tongue tied, and his eyes swept her from head to feet, trying to evaluate this provocative and exotic creature who now stared at him in awe.
Finally, he spoke.
“You must be Tahra,” he said, a little unsettled.
“Yes, my name is Tahra Mamoun. I’m a remote viewer and a very good one at that.”
“I’ve never seen you at The Institute before,” he said, still studying her.
“I came to England in September 1962, to study and work at The Institute,” she explained replied, putting down the book she’d been pretending to read. When she realised she’d picked up a book on Quantum Electro-Dynamics, she looked quite embarrassed.
“Oh,” he said, “I completed some research there not long before you arrived.”
He sat down in the guest chair, their roles reversed.
“Well,” he began, “tell me about yourself.”
She altered her pose and placed her feet on the floor, arms relaxing more casually on his desk.
“Max rescued me from a tough life in Tehran, although I lived in England prior to that. I got bullied a lot as a child, which led me to discovering my abilities. Since living at The Institute, I’ve been involved with a number of remote viewing assignments that support Britain and the United States in The Cold War.”
“Well, my name’s Paul, I studied physics and Max drew me into research after he’d attended one of my lectures. Originally, I tried to measure the soul and although I never proved it conclusively, I discovered an electromagnetic field which appears to be part of being human. Psychic people appear to have a more vibrant field. At the moment, I’m trying to type it all up so I can get it published.”
They appraised each other in silence for a minute. He found her intriguing, quite mystical and noticed how fascinated she appeared to be by him.
“So,” Tahra continued, “what is this project you wish me to participate in?”
“I’ve been told you’re a particularly excellent remote viewer. Can I ask you, what’s the furthest you’ve projected your consciousness?”
She pondered the question and replied, “I’ve travelled all around the world with m
y consciousness.”
“Have you ever left Earth?”
She didn’t expect that question, and gave a little smile at the surprise.
“Well…I’ve never tried. I mean, it’s not that I’m not interested in what’s out there, I just…never thought of projecting my consciousness that far.”
“Out there,” Paul began to propose, “I believe there are many worlds waiting for us to explore, when we can escape the confines of Earth’s gravity.”
She seemed to have a good inkling of what the project entailed, but allowed him to continue nevertheless.
“Instead of spending millions of dollars on powerful rockets, and to avoid the necessity of spacesuits, does it not seem reasonable to use remote viewing as a method of space exploration?”
“Now that you ask that question, I think it would be very worthwhile.”
“Can you project your consciousness that far?”
Tahra considered his question carefully, leaning further forward in Paul’s chair.
“Possibly, I don’t know until I try, but I’m not afraid to try. Maybe I’ve found my purpose in life.”
She spoke with passion now, ignited by the spark of his vision.
“Would you like me to give you a little taster of my ability?” she asked.
Tahra stood up, moved closer to him and sat on the edge of the desk. He watched her intently as she closed her eyes and it seemed almost erotic as her breathing became slightly heavier. Paul watched her intently.
“Where do you live?” she said.
He gave her the address, along with some details of the location and she fell silent for a moment. As she concentrated, Paul waited with baited breath and listened as she began to report back.
“It’s a cottage,” she described, “with ivy around the front door. There are boots in the hallway…riding crops, and pictures of horses… In the sitting room I see books placed by your favourite armchair, the one on the top is by Ian Fleming. There’s a writers’ desk in the corner…and newspaper clippings strewn all over it. I see a small dining room off the lounge with rows and rows of books. The walls are red and there’s a large open fire.”
“Anything else?” he enquired.
After a short period of silence, she opened her eyes with a look of embarrassment, or was it disappointment?
“Sorry,” she said, “I…didn’t realise you had a lady friend there.”
Paul noted her expression. Did he imagine it, or did he perceive not mere embarrassment, but some kind of emotional reaction? Surely this striking girl wasn’t interested in him, was she?
“What does she look like?” Paul questioned, trying to maintain his professionalism.
“Long chestnut hair, a few freckles on her nose… She’s wearing jeans, a yellow and brown jumper, and slippers on her feet.”
Tahra remained factual, although faltered a little in her speech.
“What do you think of my talent?” she asked.
“I’m impressed,” Paul replied, feeling a surprising wave of positivity towards her. “You’ve given a really accurate description of my home and my girlfriend, Eleanor. In fact, I’d like to get started as soon as possible, say, in a few weeks?”
“I’ll have to clear it with Max, but I would like that,” she confirmed, a little disconcerted by what he’d just revealed.
Paul stood up and shook her hand, and she reciprocated with a sweet smile.
“Welcome to my new, as yet unnamed project. To the moon and beyond!”
***
I’ve found my purpose in life, I thought as Max’s Daimler pulled away from The Establishment.
Excitement filled my body from the top of my skull to the tips of my toes, and I buzzed with thoughts and visions of the project I’d been assigned. I recalled the radio programme I’d listened to as a child called ‘Journey into Space’, in which man conquered the moon. In the near future, I’d follow in their footsteps, using my remote viewing capabilities! I’d dreamt of exploring as a child, and my fantasy would actually be fulfilled.
My preconceptions of Paul had been exceeded, however. I appreciated his easy going nature, his warmth, and his intelligence. When I looked into his eyes, I saw wisdom and humanity. Where Max was materialistic, Paul was idealistic. Where Max was cool and thoughtful, Paul was courageous and passionate. Where Max was calculating and shrewd, Paul was spontaneous, or so I believed.
I think he liked me, but I don’t believe he felt attracted to me. Did this faze me? No, it excited me. He seemed down to earth enough to have sustained a stable relationship, where for some odd and undefined reason, Max hadn’t. Paul offered a safe bet, while still being warm and interesting. Max possessed power, oozing charm and sex appeal, but deep down I thought he had problems relating to women. Would I end up making a choice between two very different men? That would all depend on being able to win Paul’s heart.
***
Paul gave the project a code name ‘OOBE’, which stood for Out of Body Experiment. It entered reality on the 7th of October 1964, when he typed up the first document outlining its aims and objectives of the project and his conjecture so far on the phenomenon of remote viewing.
Tahra arrived at The Establishment a few weeks later, full of enthusiasm and curiosity. Initially, he wanted to test her aerial capabilities and had arranged some stones on a hillside into a word. Before they commenced the remote viewing experiment, he wished to take a measurement of her electromagnetic field, so he set up his Kirlian-inspired camera and asked her to take a seat.
“Okay, I just want you to relax while I record your electromagnetic field.”
She looked directly into his camera lens, totally at ease in Paul’s company. As her electromagnetic field registered through the complex series of lens and prisms he’d created, he saw what amounted to an egg-shaped halo around her body, its colours intensified in the vicinity of her head. Her multi-coloured field radiated hues of blue, purple, indigo and violet.
“It’s beautiful,” Paul commented.
“I wonder if it changes when I alter my emotions, or move my consciousness.”
With no prompt from Paul, she began to conduct her own experiment. She thought about something that made her angry or miserable, Max namely, and focused on making her field darker and redder. She gave no clues to Paul indicating the mood she attempted to muster, or the colour she aimed to produce.
“Is anything happening?” she asked him.
“Why, yes…your field is pulsing, or cycling through a range of colours…crimson, with flashes of scarlet and blue. How are you doing that?”
He’d never seen this happen before. He’d also never asked anyone to change their emotional state whilst being measured.
“I’m concentrating my feelings into short bursts,” she answered.
Paul watched a kaleidoscopic display, rather psychedelic yet infinitely beautiful. Then something truly amazing happened. Without warning, a brilliant flash of white light appeared in front of her forehead and disappeared, causing Tahra’s field to expand.
“What did you just do?” he asked her.
As she remained for a moment, he continued to view the spectacle through his camera. Finally, she responded.
“Why? What did you see?” she enquired. “I projected my consciousness.”
Paul wondered if he’d just witnessed something quite spectacular.
“I think I just saw it....”
Tahra sensed her first sense of accomplishment with him.
“And this is our first experiment,” she stated, with a burning ambition. “Just think what we can achieve together.”
Paul realised he’d found the perfect partner. She matched his curiosity and passion, plus his willingness to push the boundaries. Where had she been all his life?
“No wonder you came so highly recommended,” he said.
Tahra felt alive, awakened from a stupor of repetitive and inane experiments. She bathed in the light at the end of the tunnel, spiritual light, and she couldn’
t wait to stretch herself beyond the limits.
“What’s next?” she asked, hungry for success.
She was indeed the perfect research subject.
“I have a little aerial test, got to get you flying and reporting back accurately,” he said. “You feel up to it?”
“I certainly do,” she affirmed.
“I’m going to give you a map with a marked location. There’s something in a field that I created with stones. I want you to tell me what it is.” It sounded like the experiments at The Institute. “However, I want you to focus on the journey as much as the outcome. Concentrate on the experience of travelling out of body, survey the landscape, be able to describe it and feel it.”
Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief, as for a moment, she thought it would be too identical to her current remote viewing assignments. This experiment seemed more qualitative, experiential, and ground-breaking.
“Okay,” she said, “I understand.”
In her own time, she disembodied her consciousness and instead of homing in on the target immediately, she allowed her non-physical eyes to drift. She envisioned herself as a bird, in particular an eagle, and enjoyed the feeling of travel, flying to the location on the map.
The journey took her across the Surrey countryside and she saw it all clearly, rushing beneath her ‘body’. Tahra viewed fields separated by hedges, country roads, and clusters of small towns and villages. She had a clear sense of speed and expediency but felt aware of her surroundings: the crisp autumn sunshine, the russet tones of the leaves, the rise and fall of the South Downs, and the roads winding through the greenery.
This is what it must be like to be an eagle.
I’m flying, with no breath of wind, or wings on my body.
My mind is an aeroplane, a bird, a breath of wind.
Soaking up every aspect of the beautiful landscape from her aerial view, she soon reached the coastline, where the land seemed to end abruptly in chalky cliffs, with the waves breaking below on a small, pebbly beach.
She realised she’d overshot and swung round like a bird, turning in flight and heading back inland. The undulating cliffs looked spectacular and she wished she could remain here, out of body, inhaling and exhaling every aspect of this exhilarating experience.
