by Linda Hawley
“How did you know that?” he said, surprise showing on his face.
“He wrote it on a piece of paper the day Bennett fired me and then handed it to me when he shook my hand in farewell.”
“That sounds like my brother. He is also…well he was your guardian at AlterHydro.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Remember he went to work there the same time you did?”
“Yeah. But he’s barely said two words to me in three years.”
“He’s a quiet guy. He volunteered to be your guardian, Ann. Didn’t you notice he was keeping an eye on Paul?”
“You know…I never noticed that, but now that you say it, I remember a handful of times that the two were gone at the same time.”
“He was tailing Paul, trying to find out who his contacts were, while keeping an eye on you, too.”
“Wow. I never knew.”
“You think my Soo Bahk Do is good…you should see Edwin’s. He puts me to shame.”
“I’m sorry I won’t have a chance to see you two spar.”
“You never know,” Calvin said excitedly.
I smiled at the idea of seeing the two of them spar.
Looking at all the fresh ingredients on the kitchen counter, I said, “Oh man, you’ve got every ingredient I love: fresh sourdough bread, avocado, sprouts, Virginia ham, turkey, spinach, and fresh tomato. Woohoo!” Before I could continue, my stomach growled.
Chow started to laugh. “Do you realize how much you dream of food, Ann?”
“I don’t expect you’ll be telling all my personal secrets, right, Chow?” I said, pressing him playfully.
“No, ma’am,” Chow replied, serious. “But you do love food,” he added.
I grinned. He’s right.
We all made our sandwiches. My mouth was salivating as I cut it in half.
“Let’s sit and talk while we eat.” Vanessa gestured to the table and chairs.
“Later, I want you to tell me everything you know about co-dreaming, okay?” I asked Chow quietly as we moved to the table.
“Of course. I’ll teach you.”
I nodded my head, satisfied as I took a bite of my enormous sandwich.
“Now that we know you can go back in time and change things, our work just became a whole new ballgame,” Vanessa said flatly. “Let’s go over what we know you can do. You can bring an object back with you from your dream. You can travel back in time while dreaming. You can alter current events by changing something in the past while dreaming. While remote viewing, you can alter digital information. Is there anything else?” Vanessa asked.
I swallowed my sandwich. “While remote viewing, I can move physical objects,” I answered, going in for another bite.
“And you can move physical objects while remote viewing,” she repeated and then continued after a brief pause. “Very good. What other abilities are you exploring?” Vanessa asked me.
I swallowed again. “I haven’t tried bringing anything with me into the dream, but I have been able to get resources while in the dream—”
“Like the fake IRS credentials,” Calvin interjected.
“Yeah. I seem to be very resourceful while dreaming.”
“I know,” Chow confirmed.
I smacked him on the arm playfully. He smiled.
“I only brought something back that one time…the Herkimer…but I’d like to try to bring physical things back again.”
“So it sounds like you need to start practicing that, and you should also practice dreaming with the intent to change something,” Vanessa said, nibbling at an edge of crust, watching me closely.
“Yeah, I think you’re right.”
“Once your skill is tightened up, I can already see how we can use you. I want all of you to think about this for a minute. Consider Senator Johnathan Talbot,” Vanessa began.
Calvin and I both frowned at the name, while Chow got his stone-face on. Talbot was an enemy of GOG. He introduced and then spearheaded RFID chipping in America. He also vehemently supported the Patriot Act and the über control of government over the rights of the people. He was known to be in bed with Homeland Security. He also sat on the executive board of Hitachi, who produces the Mu chip, the most advanced RFID chip on the planet.
“What if Talbot never became a senator?” she asked, letting it sink in. “What if…what if Talbot died in an accident while still in college?” she said, looking at us.
We all sat in silence.
“What is it that Madonna said when she was a guest on Wayne’s World? ‘And what if monkeys flew out of my butt?’” asked Calvin.
Vanessa frowned at him. “The things that come out of your mouth will never cease to amaze me, Calvin.”
Calvin guffawed, thoroughly enjoying her reaction.
“What I meant was…what if Ann traveled back in time and assassinated Talbot in college, before he ever started his rampage against the people? She could change history, and—”
“I hate to interrupt the monkey and assassin-talk, but I want you to understand one thing,” I started, looking intently into Vanessa’s eyes. “I am willing to alter events in the past to change history for the better. I obviously will defend myself if someone intends to do me harm. But something I will never do is be an assassin for GOG or anyone else.” I paused. “The day I die—no matter how it happens—I will die with a clear conscience.”
“Well that clears that up,” Vanessa said, clipped disappointment dripping from her words.
“Nothing you can ever do or say will convince me to overtly kill Talbot, even though I believe him to be one of the most evil men on Earth.”
“Enough said, Ann. I get it,” Vanessa overrode me, her voice loud and brassy.
“Let’s consider what I could do to harm his reputation to change the course of events,” I offered, attempting to lessen the tension in the room.
“You could expose some behavior…affairs…most of these senators have secret affairs,” Calvin offered.
“But everyone expects that from politicians now. We need something else,” Chow said.
“I’ll take this as a GOG action item,” Vanessa began. “We’ll find something in his personal or professional history, and we’ll figure out how to use it against him,” Vanessa said categorically. “We’ll get back to you on this one. Chow will be communicating with us regularly, so we’ll update you through him, unless he’s missing or killed.”
“Okay,” I agreed, ignoring her bluntness.
“Now we need to put together a plan on how to deal with Paul,” Vanessa said.
“I know how I would like to deal with him,” Chow replied.
I looked at him, surprised by his comment.
“And I’ll help you…not that you need any help, my friend,” Calvin added.
“I was thinking of something a little more…interesting. Ann, how would you like some answers?” Vanessa asked me with an excited look in her eyes.
“I do have a number of questions for him,” I said, pondering my mental list.
“Chow, we’ve got Joe near Bellingham, right?”
“Yes.”
“There is some risk, Ann. Are you up for it…with Chow nearby, of course?” she asked, nodding to Chow.
“To get some answers from the liar, I’ll willingly trade significant personal risk,” I snarled.
“Joe happens to have been government trained in interrogation techniques using drugs. I’m sure he’d be happy to lead Paul’s interrogation,” Vanessa suggested. “The only question is, how do we get Paul to your house?”
“As long as Paul doesn’t know what Bennett revealed to me about him, then I’m sure I could get him to meet me at my house for dinner.”
“But even if he does know, he’ll probably meet you to close the net around you,” Chow added. “So if we’re doing the interrogation in your house—which makes sense, since government peekers can’t listen in—then I’ll need help in outer surveillance. I’m sure that Edwin and I can handle it.”
“Then let’s set everything up for tomorrow night. Agreed?” Vanessa asked.
Chow and I nodded.
“Yes. Agreed. I’ll give him a call.” I considered the scenario as I rose from the table and relocated to the living-room sofa.
I dialed his number from my cell phone. It rang three times.
“Ann?”
“Hi, Paul.”
“Where have you been?” he nearly shouted. “I’ve been trying to reach you. I even stopped by your house, but you didn’t answer. Are you okay?” he said with worry. I knew it was insincere. Under it, though, I thought I could hear genuine fear—just a slight line of it—like poor stitching that could unpick at any second.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said somberly.
“Did you hear what happened to Bennett?”
“Let’s talk about that and other stuff tomorrow night, huh? Dinner at my house at seven?”
“Okay…yeah. Where are you?”
“Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll see you at seven. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I hung up the phone, thankful that he was going with the flow. My friends joined me in the living room.
“All set?” Vanessa asked.
“Yes. No problem.”
“Good. I’ll contact Joe and have him arrive at your house midday, so you two can talk through some questions and planning,” she instructed.
“But my flight won’t be in until later.”
“Actually, you’re leaving tonight on the red-eye. As soon as we knew you were being followed today, we moved your flight up. Chow will shadow you there, in the back of the plane.” She looked at her watch. “We’ve got about a half hour before you need to leave for the airport.”
“I better get to my hotel to get my stuff.”
“Already got it,” Chow replied.
“You seem to keep sneaking into my hotel rooms,” I teased Chow.
“Let’s cover a few other things,” Vanessa said, bringing us to order.
“Okay,” I agreed as I faux punched Chow on the arm.
“After you and Joe interrogate Paul, it’s time for you to say bye-bye to Bellingham and your ties there.”
“Underground?” I asked, soberly knowing what I was about to leave behind.
“Yep. It’s time. You’re in too much danger to be out in the open,” she said, matter of fact.
“Okay, where to?” I asked, knowing my life was forever changed.
“How does India sound, via Canada?” Vanessa asked.
Chapter 18
BELLINGHAM, WASHINGTON
The Year 2015
With help from my trusty Tylenol, I was able to sleep on the red-eye. After landing, I caught a glimpse of Chow as I left the Bellingham Airport, which reassured me that I was being looked after. I swung by Aunt Saundra’s to pick up Lulu and made sure to give her a sincere goodbye, unsure when I would see her again.
In anticipation of the events to come, Lulu and I went for a run through our Fairhaven neighborhood, expecting it would be our last. After our run, I stood in my bathroom, stripping off my sweat-laden clothes, and then stepped into the shower. I thought about my departure. Leaving Bellingham was bittersweet. I grew up here. Armond died here, and I healed from his death in this place. It was here that we refitted the Woohoo and sailed her in the islands. My aunt lives here. I have friends here. The more I thought about it, the more loss I felt. I couldn’t help the tears that streamed down my cheeks. It seemed like a whole lot to sacrifice.
“What do ya think, baby? Is it right?” I asked Armond out loud—needing reassurance—as the water poured over me. I felt a flow of peace come over me, and I knew that was my answer. “Okay then. Help Eliott watch over Elinor,” I told him, then stepped out of the shower.
I emptied the ground safe under my house into a travel bag, along with my bedroom wall safe. Since I already shipped Elinor all the photos and sentimental things in the house, there wasn’t much more for me to pack, except clothes. I did find some old journals and burned them in the fireplace.
“You’ve been good to me, Sinéad,” I said out loud to my SmartWired computer. Even though she was a computer entity, she had helped keep me safe; she felt more like a friend.
It seemed to me that it was with emotion that she replied, “Thank you, Ann.”
Hearing a car pull up the driveway, I saw through the window that it was Joe’s van. Lulu popped up from her nap and moved to the front window to look out. “Sinéad, open the garage door.”
“It’s opening, Ann.”
I looked at my watch; it was two in the afternoon. With Joe’s arrival, I closed the room-darkening shades in the front of the house. Joe pulled his van into the garage, and the outer door closed. Walking through the side door and into the garage, I met Joe as he was closing his van door. He was holding his workbag. I waved him inside. He followed me into the house before we spoke, since it was the only unsecured part of the house. Lulu forwardly sniffed Joe. He bent down to pet her, and she wagged her bottom.
We turned to each other and had a quick hug. “Good to see you again, Ann,” Joe said in my ear.
“You, too,” I said as we stood facing one another. “Thanks for coming to do this.”
He looked grim. “Tonight will be my pleasure, Ann. Let’s get all we can from this scumbag,” he said with disgust.
“That sounds like a plan to me,” I said, moving over to the sofa, with Lulu following.
Joe sat down in the chair facing me and dove right into the topic. “During the interrogation, I’ll be using intravenous barbiturates, coupled with brain mapping. Of course before that, you’ll sedate him.”
I imagined that was going to be my part. “How?”
“Using this,” Joe said, reaching into his bag and pulling out something in a flat paper wrapper not more than a half-inch square. “Ever seen one?”
“What is it?”
He opened the wrapper, and inside lay something that looked like a tiny Band-Aid, not much bigger than a large freckle.
“It’s a transdermal patch that contains Scopolamine, a powerful sedative at this dose. With this new generation of patches, the drug is contained within microscopic droplets that are smaller than bacteria, so it penetrates rapidly through the skin. We can either use this or the method used in nineteenth-century India, where they rubbed chilies in their subjects’ eyes,” he said with a wink.
“Ooh!” I said reflexively.
“Even though I know you’d enjoy the chili method, I think we’ll stick with the 2015 technology,” Joe said sarcastically.
I smiled at him, thinking, I do kinda like the chili method for Paul.
“So I need to get this patch on him?”
“Yes. What do you think of giving him a hug?”
“A hug…well…where am I supposed to put it?” I asked, confused.
“His neck. If you hug him, do you think you can get it on his neck?”
“Yeah, I think that’ll work,” I said, considering.
“It’s very important that you wash your hands with a solution I brought just before you put the dot on your finger. Sticking it on the subject anywhere on his neck is a good place. It’s so small, he won’t even feel it. Immediately after you apply it, wash your hands again with the solution. The last thing I want is for you to be sedated.”
“Okay, got it. Anything else I should know?”
“Get him onto the sofa. He’ll be easier to handle there.”
“Okay.”
“Once he’s unconscious, I’ll insert the IV line and then get him set up for the brain mapping.”
“I want to hear more about that. How do you do it?”
“With this,” he said, pulling a high-tech helmetlike device from his bag.
The helmet was molded to the shape of a human head.
Lulu barked at it.
“It’s okay, girl, it’s not a head,” I told her, smiling.
After Joe let her sniff it
, she was satisfied and lay down.
It contained hardware on the inside and what must have been hundreds of node sensors on the outside. It was matte black and was made from some type of hard material.
“I assume it’s going to do the brain mapping, but what is it? I’ve never even heard of anything like this.”
“You probably never will. It’s called the Human Brain Map 12, or HBM-12. It was researched and developed in Japan by a private corporation only two years ago, and a GOG operative smuggled it out of there for our organization’s use. It was just delivered to me through a GOG courier this morning, along with a little training session. This baby packs a punch.”
“How’s it work?” I asked, intensely curious.
“Obviously, it fits on the subject’s head. I’ll adjust it at these points,” he said, pointing to the top and back of the helmet. “These fiber optics and electrodes from within the helmet will send light through laser diodes into Paul’s brain—”
“Wait a minute. How do you shine lasers into a person’s brain without burning tissue?”
“They’re non-invasive optical lasers, not surgical lasers. As the light separates, caused by movement through brain tissue, it’ll be measured by hundreds of sensors on the way out of his brain. The unique properties of the exit lights will give us information about specific activity in his brain,” he said, pausing to ensure I understood.
I nodded, fascinated by this technology I’d never seen.
“We’ll be able to tell, for example, if he’s lying about something.”
“Oh my goodness, it’s a lie-detector helmet.”
Joe smiled at my joke.
“How can you tell if he lies?”
“To put it simply, deceptive processes by the subject will activate the limbic system, which is part of the brain’s frontal lobe. This involves the recognition of future consequences from current actions—making choices, suppressing inappropriate social responses, that sort of thing. When the sensors read the exit lights, we’ll know if his limbic system’s been activated when answering a question. If so, we’ll immediately know he’s lied.”
“Unbelievable. It’s like high-tech bio-feedback for lying.”
“It is. It just may be the coolest technology I’ve ever seen for interrogations. It used to be that when I would conduct interrogations, every answer from the subject was suspect until it was either confirmed or denied. Follow-up took a long time, and we frequently never learned the truth about some things. With the HBM-12, we’ll immediately know whether each of Paul’s answers is a lie or the truth.”
