by Eliza Green
The dark-skinned man pulled a chair over. His colleague eased Jonathan down into it.
‘Simon believes Dr Blake has been acting beyond her remit as a clinical psychologist. He believes she’s been manipulating healthy individuals with mild symptoms of stress and turning them into interesting cases for her research.’
Jonathan’s eyes were wide. ‘What? No. She wouldn’t.’
‘She already has. We interviewed her an hour ago and she admitted you were one of her patients.’
‘I already told you I worked for her! I’m not crazy.’ He went to stand up, but the blond-haired man pushed him back down.
‘Settle down, Mr Farrell. We already know this. Simon has identified you as a normal functioning adult. When did your paranoia begin?’
Jonathan stared at the white floor of the makeshift hospital room, his head swimming with the news about his boss.
‘Em, when I went to Spelling.’
‘We’re familiar with what happened to you there but you aren’t,’ the dark-skinned man said. ‘The scene in the tea shop you so vividly remember was staged using two of Dr Blake’s patients—the tea-shop owner and the woman you eventually shot. They were both referred to her by Dr Fenway, a psychiatrist in the town whom you met that day. We understand Dr Blake hypnotised them both during one of her sessions. She gave each a different trigger so they would respond to particular stimuli. The scene in the pub where you encountered the woman you eventually shot was staged, as was the episode on the Tube.’
Jonathan shook his head. ‘But there were other people in the tea shop that day …’
‘Simon confirmed that she used a device to alter the frequency of sound waves that, if used at the right moment, would cause the people without a trigger to slip into a temporary trance. Did you ever see Dr Blake as a patient?’
‘No, never. She taught me some relaxation techniques because I was stressed about a few things, but that was it.’
‘Were you stressed about Eddie?’ the dark-skinned man asked.
‘Yeah, how did you know about him?’
‘Eddie doesn’t exist, at least not in real life.’
Jonathan stared at the two men. ‘Of course he’s real. He’s my brother.’ His voice was rising. ‘I’ve seen him. I’ve spoken to him.’
The blond-haired man shook his head slowly. ‘Eddie is you. The idea—Eddie’s profile—may have been planted during one of your hypnotherapy sessions. You were probably too squeaky clean on paper and she needed a bad brother to set you on edge. It would have felt real enough.’
Jonathan thought about the gun shop, and the crematorium masquerading as a firing range. Eddie was a regular about town. Except it had been him all along, pretending to be someone else.
‘Simon believes that Dr Blake has been controlling you and that she may not be the only one out there manipulating research subjects.’
Jonathan frowned. ‘What, you think other psychologists are controlling people in this way?’
‘It’s our belief she learned the techniques from someone else.’
Jonathan raised his good arm and cupped the side of his head. This was all too much. He recalled the mirror in his bedroom and looked up at both men. ‘What about the mirror? Did you know I saw part of what was about to happen?’
‘Yes. Dr Blake arranged for a Genuine Glass mirror that shows you your future to be placed in your apartment,’ the blond-haired man replied. ‘Simon thinks she wanted to see if she could influence your behaviour by showing you what you were about to do. She accelerated matters this week because Simon believes she was eager for results.’
Jonathan shook his head slowly. ‘No, you’re wrong.’ But … she had been under stress—he’d seen it.
The blond-haired man stepped forward. ‘Have you heard of a man called Terence Anderson?’
The Anderson case—one of Dr Blake’s schizophrenic patients. ‘Yes?’
‘Terence Anderson came to see Dr Blake a year ago complaining that he couldn’t sleep. He was stressed over money and family issues, but there was nothing unusual about him. Dr Blake taught him some simple stress-relieving techniques and suddenly his mood changed. Sound familiar?’
Jonathan stared at both men. He didn’t say anything for a while. The news that Dr Blake had been using him without his knowledge came as a shock to him.
‘Why did she do this?’
‘To further her career, Simon believes. She needed some radical cases with radical results if she was ever going to be considered a major player in psychology. Simon has been after Dr Blake for some time now. She has been creating dangerous members of society for her own professional gain and unleashing them on the world without any consideration for the consequences.’
‘Dangerous people like me,’ Jonathan added quietly. ‘So why don’t you just arrest her?’
‘Because someone taught her, and is probably teaching others. We need the main player.’
‘And me? I killed two people.’ His hands were shaking.
‘The world, including Dr Blake, thinks Jonathan Farrell is dead and that’s the way Simon wants it. Simon needed you out of the system so you could help us with the next part of the plan. We’re going to turn the tables on her, and to do that we need to resurrect you from the dead. Regardless of what happened, Simon believes the doctor had a soft spot for you.’
‘What about my parents? Have you told them any of this?’
‘No. You can’t tell them you’re alive—at least not yet.’ The dark-skinned man leaned on the hospital bed. ‘So what do you say, will you help us?’
Simon this, Simon that. Jonathan frowned. ‘Which one of you is Simon?’
‘Neither of us. Simon is a computer.’
Jonathan smiled. He wasn’t sure who the crazy one in the room was. ‘Do you always do what the computer tells you? I mean, it’s just a machine, not a real person.’
‘Simon is never wrong,’ the dark-skinned man said flatly.
The blond-haired man offered a better explanation. ‘Simon is more than a machine. He’s artificial intelligence who knows humans better than we know ourselves. He can judge without prejudice. He can tell when people are lying. He can make a rational decision when emotions trip us up. He is, in a word, perfect, unlike humans who are destructive on a whim.’
The thought of giving up complete control to a computer scared him. Normally he placed his trust in humans, but in this instance the machine called Simon seemed the safest bet.
Jonathan flicked his eyes from one man to the other. ‘Feels like I don’t have a choice.’
‘You always have a choice and it’s important to Simon that you do this knowing all the facts. Simon is justice. Simon is truth. Simon is—’
‘Okay. Okay! Enough with the sales pitch.’ Jonathan sighed heavily. ‘I’m in. So, when does this Simon want me to start?’
The End
About Eliza Green
A Dublin born writer with a marketing degree, I spent many years working in industries ranging from fashion, to sport, to finance, but never really loved anything I did. In 2009 when I put pen to paper, I fell in love with the whole writing process.
I write down-to-earth science fiction, which has stemmed from my lifelong obsession with sci-fi stories. My writing is dark and so are my characters. Human beings are flawed and those flaws interest me. The more complex a character is, the more I remember them. Of special interest to me is the not-so-distant future, gaining that glimpse into what life could be like if we carried on as we are. Dystopian future, overcrowding and pollution are all themes of the Exilon 5 trilogy.
When I’m not writing, you’ll find me out walking or cycling, enjoying food and wine with my friends or at the local cinema. I live in Dublin with my partner.
Purchase other Books by Eliza Green
Books in the Exilon 5 Trilogy
Becoming Human (Book 1)
Altered Reality (Book 2)
Crimson Dawn (Book 3)
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Acknowledgements
Before I begin to thank the people who’ve helped me to create Derailed Conscience, I want to say I wrote this story as a standalone book. It doesn’t mean I won’t write another to continue it on, but I don’t promise sequels to anything I write unless I can see where the story will go. That way I can write the books I know you deserve.
I’ve always been drawn to psychological stories that appear to be one thing but turn out to be something else entirely. That’s the theme of this book. The idea came to me out of the blue, as ideas generally do, and I worked in some science fiction elements to elevate it. Working on this story reminded me of two movies: Twelve Monkeys and Minority Report. If you knew what you were about to do, how would you react?
I don’t wish to diminish the seriousness of mental health issues and I hope I’ve handled the subject in this novella with the care and understanding it deserves.
Thanks to Averill and Mary, my live-in editors (Only kidding!)
Thanks to my beta readers, Debbie, Wayne and Alison, for their invaluable input. Thanks to Sarah Dale for validating the psychology elements to the book.
Thanks to my readers who push me to write better books so I can keep up with their (almost) insatiable imaginations!
Table of Contents
Copyright
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
About the Author
Other Books
Acknowledgments
