Confabulation (The Department)

by Ronald Thomas

  Danton sat back in his chair, scowling like a schoolboy who was told by the teacher that the dog most likely hadn’t eaten the homework. "How long?"

  "A couple of weeks. I assure you, the situation is under control. We’ll be able to identify new targets soon. Set the plan in motion again. This time with no mistakes.

  "I should hope so, Gray."

  Jackson raised his eyebrow and turned to leave the office.

  "I assume you will be keeping me informed."

  "I assure you, I’ll pass on any relevant information." He stepped out of the office without looking back and shut the door behind him. He nodded to the receptionist, and strolled past security. Once out the door and in his car, he checked for messages. Neither Simon nor work had called, so he turned his attention to Henry Adamson. "What do you need, Henry. Information? A push? What motivates you? Revenge? Fear? Love? Hate?"

  He drove his car away, and onto the highway headed north again. "I need to know, Henry. I need you to help me end this."

  CHAPTER 37

  Henry stood next to his car and looked around the parking lot. He’d only stepped away for a few minutes. Just to pay for his gas and get a soda.

  Just enough timed for someone to break into his car.

  He asked the person next to him if he had seen anyone open the car door, but the man said that he had just pulled up. Henry went back into the small convenience store and asked if he could view the security tape. The clerk knew Henry, and let him into the office.

  Henry watched from the time he pulled up to when he returned with the soda, but the camera didn’t record anyone near the car. Henry thanked the clerk and returned. He opened his door and sat behind the wheel, staring at the envelope in the seat next to him.

  He was sure it hadn’t been there earlier. Still, he couldn’t imagine how it got there. He looked in the back seat. Nothing. He stepped out, and opened the trunk. Again, nothing.

  He returned to his seat. Reached for the brown package. Opened the envelope and removed the letter.

  Mr. Adamson:

  There is some information I think you need to be aware of. I know you do not know who I am and have no reason to trust me enough to go to a location I recommend, but there is a bookstore in town that could direct you to some papers you would do well to read.

  If you choose not to, I understand, but please consider this. The place I recommend is open and you shouldn’t have to fear abduction. The choice is yours, but a friend will be waiting at 4305 Greendale.

  Henry set the letter down, and started the car. A chance to know what was happening to him was appealing. Henry couldn’t say why, but he felt comfortable with the notion of going to the directed location. He could leave if it looked shady when he arrived. If it turned out well, he would be one step closer to getting his life back.

  He turned the car toward the indicated location and picked up his phone. He pressed and held the three, waiting for the call to connect.

  "Hello, this is Dennis."

  "Hi, Dennis. It’s Henry."

  "Henry, where have you been? We’ve been worried sick about you."

  "I’m fine, Dennis. There’s no need to worry. I can’t say what’s going on right now, but I’ll be fine. I’m hoping to come back to work soon."

  "You’re welcome as soon as you’ve worked out what’s going on with you. We really miss you around here. It’s been a struggle trying to replace you. Mainly the jokes."

  Henry grinned. "Thanks, Dennis. Though you could probably replace the jokes with one of those big books of bathroom humor." He laughed with Dennis for a moment.

  "Take care, Henry."

  "Thanks Dennis." Henry ended the call and then called Dr. Davy’s office. Had to explain why he had missed some meetings. Dr. Davy seemed to understand. Indicated therapy could begin again as soon as he was ready.

  He considered calling Kelly when the call ended, but he knew it wasn’t the right time.

  He assumed Dennis would let her know that he was well. He also didn’t want to risk putting her in danger. The people he was dealing with were able to track him down and contact him whenever they wanted. He had no doubt that they would use whatever means available to make sure their plans, whatever they were, would succeed.

  Henry dropped the phone into the seat and sped toward answers.

  After a short drive, he arrived in front of the BookPlace. He’d heard of the store from people around town. It was acclaimed for its selection of coffees, pastries, and seating arrangements. Not arcane research that might explain his situation. He checked the address several times while in the parking lot, but ultimately decided that it was unlikely that the person offering help would have made a mistake, so he stepped in. Made his way to the service desk in the center of the store. He stepped up and waited for the unshaved teen to help him.

  “Hi. Do you have any papers waiting for a Mr. Henry Adamson.”

  For several moments he simply didn’t respond to the question.

  “I was told there would be some papers for me here. At this address.”

  He looked at Henry and back at the screen in front of him, but gave no verbal response. Finally, he met Henry’s eyes again. "I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know who sent you to our store, but we just sell books. I don’t have any books on hold for you, and I’m not sure why someone would think we had papers."

  "Is there someone else I could talk to?"

  "I’ll check with the manager, hold on just a moment."

  Henry looked around while he waited, and watched the various people in the store. Most of them sat silently and read, while others engaged in casual to heated conversations while ingesting various caffeinated beverages. He watched as they moved through another day in their ordered lives. None of their actions were particularly interesting or enviable, but they all seemed to free of worry. He was reminded again of why he was here.

  "Mr. Adamson?"

  Henry turned around to see a tall, thin man who appeared to have slept little in the past twenty years. "Yes?"

  "I neglected to inform my staff of the information on hold for you. If you’ll follow me to the office, I have it there."

  Henry nodded and followed.

  The manger seemed an odd fellow to Henry. Apart from the tired eyes and weak posture, something seemed off to Henry. It wasn’t that the manager wouldn’t look at Henry. He made eye contact often. It was more like he was constantly distracted by something buzzing about. It was as if some fly that wouldn’t depart from his ear tortured him.

  “I’m very sorry. It’s unusual to get this kind of request, and I wasn’t sure who to tell. I’m glad Joe came back to get me. Usually he just walks away. Good kid, but not the best worker, of you know what I mean.”

  When they arrived at the office, the manager shut the door behind them. Henry’s heart jumped and he stepped toward the door to open it. The openness of the store was comforting, but he felt suddenly afraid in the closed confines of the office.

  "Could you please leave the door closed? The information is rather sensitive."

  "I’d prefer that the door were open. I hope you understand."

  "Henry, I know it’s difficult. You can trust me. I just want you to know what’s happening to you. At least as far as I can tell."

  Henry swallowed. Wasn’t sure if this person left the message, or someone working for him. Figured it was probably the guy. Fewer people in a chain of information. He wasn’t ready to trust him, though. He placed his hand in the knob and began to turn.

  "Henry, I can’t talk freely if you open that door."

  Henry stood frozen with the doorknob turned. Any movement by him would swing the door open and allow him access to freedom. It would also end his chance to discover what this man knew. He released the knob, but kept close to the door.

  "Good. Thank you."

  "How did you find me?"

  "Quite by accident actually, I had seen you on the news after the incident in the park. Something in your eyes told me what was happen
ing to you. I followed what few leads were available from news reports, but you had disappeared. I though they got a hold of you and you were done. Then I saw you at that gas station and I knew I had to help if I could."

  "The gas station. What about the hotel room? You left a phone there and I called you. You wanted to me to come with you, but I said no." Henry shook his head and his voice grew louder. "How could you have first seen me at the gas station?"

  The manager placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder, but Henry shrugged it off and glared at him. "That wasn’t me, Henry." The thin man grabbed a set of bound paper and held them in his hands. "They found you again. Now you really need to know what’s happening."

  Henry held tight to the knob. He needed to go. They had found him again. He had to get out of town. He had to get away. He looked up and saw the thin man still staring at him. His tired, distracted eyes pleading with him to stay and listen. He wanted to run, but he needed to stay. He had to know who these people were, and how they were getting inside his head. Henry released the knob again and nodded his agreement.

  "Do you still have that phone?"

  "No, I got rid of it."

  "Good. It was probably a tracking device and a bug."

  "What? Oh, God, what have I gotten into?"

  "You couldn’t possibly know what you’re into here, Henry. No one ever does until it’s too late. Well, you’re going to know everything I know. I just hope you can do something with it."

  "Hope?"

  "You’ll see what I mean. Now, have a seat. We have a lot to discuss."

  "First, what’s your name?"

  "Just call me Pete."

  "Okay, Pete. Give it to me." Henry sat down, thoroughly unprepared for what he was about to hear.

  CHAPTER 38

  The brown fields visible from the window spoke of the lack of rain received to the west of the city. Despite the wet spring, this area had received precious little rain, and the grass and barren trees had paid the price during the long dry summer that followed. Carolyn could feel the death in the ground, and in her heart. She knew escape wasn’t possible, and held little more hope for rescue. She was at the mercy of Susan’s help now.

  She was fairly sure that Susan wasn’t responsible for the original invasion of Carolyn’s mind, but she still didn’t feel safe with her. The two days in the house were slow, quiet, and boring. She had hoped to enjoy the peace, but there was so little to keep her mind occupied that her thoughts generated as many demons as the invading emotions and words could.

  Her days were filled with delusions of noises around her. Her nights contained dreams about being manipulated by unseen demons. She hadn’t heard from Susan since she was left there. She wasn’t sure if she was happy or worried about that. All of her feelings seemed conflicted. Every thought and condition seemed to offer both hope and fear. Salvation and Death. Just as the sun offered both nourishment and destruction outside.

  She dropped to the floor. Push-ups. Sit-ups. She ran in place. Jumped. Anything to exhaust herself and take her mind away. After hours of straining muscles and working herself into a dizzying sweat, she found her body exhausted, but her mind still racing. She spread across the floor, and tried to decide what she needed to do.

  She should stay?

  Should she go?

  Could she trust Susan?

  Should she wait to be saved?

  Did she need to take matters into her own hands?

  She laughed aloud at the thought of becoming a vigilante against the powers that were placed against her. She knew nothing about what they were. She knew only that they could manipulate her thoughts and emotions without being seen. Only one thing came to her from her activity and contemplation. She knew she couldn’t act alone. She needed help.

  Though she was far from certain about Susan, she had no other options. When Susan returned, Carolyn would welcome the help, and cooperate with the plans. She knew nothing about what that would require, but she needed someone.

  Carolyn relaxed with a floor pillow, and took a deep breath. For the first time, she wanted Susan to return. She had waited long enough, and though it meant she would have to place her trust in unsure hands, she knew it was time to reclaim her life.

  CHAPTER 39

  Jackson stared out the edge of the blacked out window, waiting for the pedestrian traffic to dwindle. He continued to rub his hands with the moist, disinfectant towlette. Behind him, he could feel the warmth rising into the conditioned air. He hoped an ideal opportunity to leave would arise before the smell began to fill the room.

  Jackson had planned his actions. Was committed to their execution. But he hated what he had to do. He’d maintained distance from the men in the operation intentionally. He felt it would make his decisions more clear, make it easier for him to issue his orders without prejudice. He was wrong.

  After his meeting with Danton, Jackson knew that he needed to act quickly to make sure that everything was clear. That nothing got back to compliance. And that there wasn’t any pressure to follow ideas as insidious as Danton’s. He wanted the company to change, not fall apart to be replaced by runner chaos.

  After that meeting, he called the two agents who he had trusted with surveillance. Only they knew all the subjects. Only they were a weak point if compliance came around. He’d take care of the subjects, but the agents had to be secured. They’d come at his request, to a secure location he promised was safe.

  “Come in. We need to discuss what’s happened.”

  He asked them both to sit. Donaldson sat in the chair nearest the door. Franks, a woman Jackson had trained, took the other chair. Neither spoke.

  “It seems this program has gotten away from us. Through no fault of yours, those responsible for executing the plan have erred.”

  Jackson walked behind them. Reached out his mind to fill the room. Slowly bringing his thoughts in on the two before him.

  “However, we have lost contact with them both. Are you currently aware of the location of any of the targets?” He opened his mind to the emotions of their response. He felt them yield to the request. They’d been trained to do so. Ensure honesty.

  Donaldson spoke first. “No, sir. I don’t know the current location of any of them.”

  The truth, Jackson knew.

  “No, sir.” Franks didn’t elaborate.

  The truth as well.

  Jackson took a deep breath. Pushed deeper. They’d let him in, now he would do what was needed. He pushed against their minds, their defenses useless against him. He shoved open the small door they had created and crashed through their psyche.

  In his mind, he was squeezing with all his might. His hands were balled into fists, his nails digging into his hands.

  The two sat transfixed. Motionless. Blood flowing from their ears and noses. The corner of Franks’ mouth release a bubble of blood and saliva. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell to the floor.

  Donaldson resisted. He pushed back, but it was no use. Jackson engulfed the man’s mind and assaulted his thoughts. He hammered away. Jackson’s body ached as his muscles responded to the effort of his mind. Blows rang through the ether.

  Donaldson wavered. His head shaking. He gritted his teeth. Broken them under the strain. Blood blew out his nose. Brain and blood from the ears.

  It was over.

  Jackson staggered back.

  Wiped the sweat from his forehead and tried to catch his breath. He knew they deserved better, but he had to tie up loose ends. With the deed done, he cleaned up and made his way to the windows.

  Finally clear.

  He shut the door behind him. He was almost done. Just a few more things.

  The subjects. He had to take them out.

  Next, the woman from compliance. Couldn’t let that get back.

  But first was Peter.

  Jackson swallowed and prepared himself for a fight.

  CHAPTER 40

  Henry’s eyes darted as charts and papers emerged from the binder in Hap’s
lap. He watched Hap place the charts quickly, but change their position often. He seemed to be operating under the influence of enough of the house coffee to counteract the visible lack of sleep.

  "Okay, let’s start at the beginning. First, you’re not the first or the only person this is happening to. I don’t know how many are being tested, but I’ve talked to others before. It’s always a little different, I think they’re getting better, but you can tell it’s the same stuff."

  "Slow down, Hap. Tell me what’s going on."

  "Okay, sorry. You see, they have these devices that can transmit to your skull. It makes your brain hear, see, and feel stuff. It’s all here in the charts."

  Henry reached down to stead Hap’s hand. He felt odd calming the person who was trying to alleviate his fears, but he needed to understand what the information was, and he needed Hap to calm down so he could explain it to Henry. "Hap, you need to calm down. Why don’t you tell me the story from the beginning? Things like who these people are and how they can do these things."

  "Okay, sorry. Half of it started back in Viet Nam, like so many other horrible things the government does to us. Anyway, the army thought they needed a better way to communicate to troops. They found that soldiers who worked on radar could hear a buzzing from the train of microwave pulses coming from the equipment. They kept researching that and found that they could get it down to individual pops and clicks. By managing the microwaves, making them jump around a specified band. With a receiver, the subjects could hear what was being broadcast, even though there was no audible sound."

  "But, I don’t have a receiver, Hap."

  "I know man, and the government understood that was a limitation. They couldn’t go around putting receivers in people’s heads, and not because of the people either, the bastards would do anything, no they just didn’t want someone to get captured and then have the whole plan shot because one receiver was stolen. No, they needed something else, so they looked at ultrasound, high frequencies instead of microwaves."