Dark Genesis: The Birth of the Psi Corps (2 page)

“Watch it, Tom, you’re lettin’ that all-business face slip off again. You might learn something from me yet, and that’d be a shame. Sure you won’t have that drink?”

Tom managed a little smile.

“Maybe just one,” he said. He talked Tom into two, before it was over, and told a few jokes that even got him to laugh. When the door was closed, he went to the window and looked out at the city of Geneva. The smile fell away, and he felt that old familiar hole opening under his feet.

“You’ve bitten off more than you can chew, this time, haven’t you, Lee?” He grunted. He could see his reflection against the glass. Close-cropped brown hair, fast going grey, the angular face that had been likened variously to Andrew Jackson, David Bowie, and Luis Espinosa “Enough,” he said, this time to the universe at large. “I’ll beat you, you bastard.” He went to his desk, sat down, and tapped his terminal on.

“Index,” he said. “Journal abstracts.” He began a slow scroll though the lists his computer had assembled. Four new planets that might be Earth-like, some interesting speculations about the self-replicating goo beneath Europa’s icy crust, a better fusion reactor, a new theory of language origins. All interesting, but useless. But then, toward the end, he came to the New England Journal of Medicine. A headline caught his eye, so he scanned the story. He stopped, read it again. And again. He printed the whole article and read that, too.

“Nguyen, Tom,” he said keying the phone link on the terminal. After a pause, the screen flickered and his aide appeared, leaning into his car. Behind him, the snowcapped Alps were etched against a very blue sky.

“Lee?”

“Sory, Tom, I know I gave you the day off, but I need you on something right away. I’ve highlighted a journal article for you. I want to know who else in the Senate has read it, and I want to know who has it selected to read. Their aides, too.”

“Lee, I’m not sure if the disclosure rule covers-“

“Then be discreet. But find out. I want to know in an hour. Just do it there and drop it back here. And Tom-I want on the Technology and Privacy Committee after all. Posthaste.”

He returned to his terminal, looking for other things, smiling grimly as they accumulated. Forty-five minutes later, the transfax beeped for his attention, and he stopped to watch a list of names appear. There were only five, and it took just an instant to choose. Lee found Senator Ledepa Koya standing outside of the Senate chamber, conferring with a handful of aides in rapid-fire Indonesian . When he noticed Lee, he waved them off and approached.

“Senator Crawford,” Koya said. “Ledepa. How are you today?”

“Very well, thanks. I’d like to congratulate you.”

“On the failure of my bill?”

“No, no. And I really hope you understand my position in that matter. I, personally, think you are right, but what am I to do?”

“It’s the name of the game, Ledepa. We all have to respond to our constituency. Now what can I do for you?”

“I understand you’ve just been appointed head of the Committee on Technology and Privacy.”

“News travels fast.”

“I have a particular interest in that committee. I would like to be on it.”

“It’s goin’ to be a yawner, Ledepa. I can’t think of any issue that hasn’t been addressed to death. It’s just nit-picking now.”

“Maybe not.”

“What do you mean?” Koya lowered his voice. “Have you seen the New England Journal of Medicine?”

“As a matter of fact, I have. Some mumbo jumbo about telepathy.”

“I don’t think it’s mumbo jumbo. Some in my government have had suspicions about this for years. And the study looks very solid to those whose opinions I trust.”

“I’d like to see it replicated,” Lee replied, allowing curiosity to creep into his voice. “But I’m starting to see your interest in this. You think this will be a privacy and technology issue?”

“Yes, of course. Haven’t you gotten any letters?”

“Since yesterday? I haven’t had time to check.”

“I have received many. The news of this is already spreading.”

“Really? Surprising. A journal article.” But inwardly he smiled. He had spent all night anonymously bringing the article to the attention of various Indonesians. Companies with much to hide. Reactionary but popular religious leaders. Anyone from whom he thought he could elicit a panicked response. He pretended to consider. “Okay, Ledepa, you’re on the committee . I need some opposition members anyway, and it seems like we’re of a mind about this-even if I’m a little slow on the uptake, today. The first order of business is to get copies-” His pocket tel-phone burred. “Wups. If you’ll excuse me, Ledepa?”

He pulled the featherlight tel-phone from his jacket and thumbed the channel open, then said, “Lee Crawford here.” He listened for a moment, nodded. “That sounds great. We’ll see you there.” He closed the link and turned to Koya.

“Well, I’m a popular man today,” he said. “That was Ramira Alejandro’s assistant . She wants me and someone from my committee to come on her show to discuss the telepath article.” He shook his head.

“Let’s you and I meet for lunch, see if we can come to some agreement about what we’ll say.” Koya nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s nonsense,” Crispin Dover said, “pure and simple. I find it unbelievable that Ms. Kimbrell published this tripe.” Dover looked, Lee thought, like a bulldog, but somehow his clipped, educated British enunciation worked against that to lend him a sort of credibility.

“And yet, our oldest legends speak of these powers,” commented Ramira Alejandro, a striking woman in late middle age, with classical Brahman features and a streak of pure silver through her otherwise midnight hair. She radiated a quiet smugness born of knowing she had a guaranteed audience of upward of two billion people.

“Yes, well, our oldest legends also speak of magical beanstalks, talking bears, and the birth of various gods from the armpits of of other gods, and I quite agree, it’s among such peers that these so-called extrasensory powers belong. In the past two centuries, the scientific method has been repeatedly brought to bear on the myth of telepathy-and shown it to be just that. A myth. I don’t think I go too far in suggesting that Ms. Kimbrell should consider editing another journal altogether.” Kimbrell, a professional-looking woman with closely cropped blond hair, pursed her lips angrily.

“What about it, Dr. Ortiz?” Ramira asked.

“We’ve heard what a neurochemist has to say about it, but what does psychology have to offer as an opinion on this matter?” Ortiz clasped his seamed fingers together. At eighty, his skin rather resembled leather. Lee found himself a bit impressed, despite himself. Ortiz had been a prominent vid commentator since before he was born, a real celebrity.

“Well, Ms. Alejandro, I have read the paper, which I can’t tell for certain that our friend Dr. Dover has-” Dover sputtered, “I read the abstract. That was quite enough. I -

Ramira silenced him with a small, cool smile.

“You’ll have another say, Dr. Dover.”

“Nevertheless,” Ortiz went on, “I must to some extent agree with him. The methodology looks fine, and the results seem conclusive . And yet, how do we explain the lack of similar results in every prior study—some of which, I might add, used the same methodology? And so I must doubt these conclusions as some kind of statistical fluke, until we see them replicated.”

“What do you think, Mr. Philen? Will they be replicated?”

Philen, a pale, nervous fellow who couldn’t be more than twenty-four, raised his hands defensively.

“Look, we didn’t expect these results. It started out as a lark, a joke really-“

“And yet you published it.”

“Well-yes, because the hypothesis was supported. Look, I was there, I saw it. It was uncanny. I have the greatest respect for Dr. Ortiz, of course. Who wouldn’t? But this was no statistical fluke. There were people in our test groups who were telepaths. No doubt about that at all.”

There certainly wasn’t any doubt in his young, earnest, and distinctly untrained voice. In contrast, Dover suddenly sounded like what he was-a pompous ass.

“Well, then, you would seem to have been duped by a stage magician. Why not have one of these subjects come on this show, under controlled conditions, so that we can see this ability demonstrated?”

“I -of course I can’t disclose their names,” Philen said.

“Of course,” Dover replied sarcastically.

Ramira turned her attention to the editor.

“Ms. Kimbrell, you’ve borne the brunt of much criticism for publishing this article.”

Kimbrell frowned thoughtfully.

“It’s right to be skeptical. It should be hard to prove something new-it should require rigor. I checked the facts and sources very carefully before publishing. Dr. Ortiz may be right this may represent some impossible statistical fluke. But the research is not fraudulent, and it is not sloppy, as Dr. Dover implies. I am perfectly aware that I have staked my reputation on on this, and I feel secure doing so.

” Funny, Lee thought. You don’t look secure.

“Well,” Ramira continued, turning toward the camera, “we also have with us Senator Lee B. Crawford of the United States, and Senator Ledepa Koya of the Indonesian Consortium. Senator Crawford is well known as the hero of Grissom, and as an advocate for good science in government-that was your campaign slogan, I believe?”

“I’m guilty of that one,” Lee drawled. “My campaign manager wanted `no new taxes,’ but I overrode him.”

Ramira smiled.

“Senator Crawford also comes to us with a degree in astrophysics. Senator Koya has a master’s degree in socioserniotics . Both of these gentleman serve on the Committee on Technology and Privacy. Tell me, gentlemen. Let us assume for a moment that this report is true-that there are among us those who can `read minds.’ What are the social-and political-implications of this? Senator Crawford?”

“I’m still digesting this a bit, Ramira. And although I’m now the head of the committee, Dr. Koya has seniority in the Senate. My daddy always told me to let my elders speak first anyhow.” He sent Koya a conspiratorial wink.

Ramira turned toward Koya.

“Senator?”

Koya cleared his throat.

“Well, obviously, if this study is valid, it reveals a serious situation. Our daily lives, our respective cultures , our political systems, our legal systems-all are intrinsically dependent on privacy to ensure their very existence. The Earth Alliance mandates rights of privacy at the level of the nation-state, and at the individual level. This has been worked out in great detail, over the years, particularly as technology has made intrusions into privacy potentially deeper and easier. “I’m afraid if there are, in fact, telepaths, that we’re right back to square one. What technology can protect us against them? How can we detect them? How can we stop them? For that matter, how long have they been around? Imagine, each of you, the damage to your private lives if someone were to read your every thought, wish, notion. Now imagine governments and corporations hiring telepaths as spies. Or criminals who can easily stay one step ahead of the authorities. It could undermine the entire fabric of our global society. Yes, I think the Senate has many important questions to ask, if these findings are true.”

“Senator Crawford? Comment? Or are you still digesting?”

Lee scratched his chin.

“Tryin’ to avoid heartburn. I think my colleague is being a bit alarmist. Ledepa, it almost sounds like you’re suggestin’ witch-hunts.” From the corner of his eye, he caught the flash of betrayal on Koya’s face.

“First of all,” he continued, “their special abilities aside, telepaths are just going to be people. Your schoolteacher, your boss, your mother”-he smiled-“maybe even your senator. Just people like you and me. Not monsters. And they have the same rights and freedoms as everybody else. That said, they don’t have special rights either-like the right to poke around in our heads. Still, let’s all just take a deep breath. I intend to start hearings on this as early as next week, beginning with a select panel of scientists whom we will recruit to see if these results can be replicated. I would be honored if Dr. Dover and Dr. Ortiz would agree to be a part of that panel, and to act as advisers to this committee, along with Mr. Philen and his research associate, Ms. Duffy, who could not be with us today.”

Lee loosened his collar and sprawled his lanky frame on the couch. Tom Nguyen took a seat, and they both watched the vidscreen as it ran through channels, following the search menu.

“How did you know he would fall that way? Koya?” Tom asked.

“Simple. We all know Indonesia has a lot to hide after the transcom affair. Some don’t think they should be allowed membership in the Alliance, and it wouldn’t take much to get them out. So as a nation, they can’t like the idea of telepaths who might ferret out where the bodies are buried. But it’s more basic than that-I checked Koya out. He’s a believer.”

“Believer?”

“Yup. Ever read much anthropology? As late as the twenty-first century, people were still massacred over witchcraft scares. At one time or the other, belief in malicious sorcery existed among every people on Earth. There’ve been lots of studies of it-anthropological, psychological-but in the end, it all boils down to one thing. People don’t like to think bad things happen to them for no reason. Somebody has to be responsible. God. The devil. A witch. Hell, in my home state, Mississippi, there was still talk about juju and such in some places. “I checked out Ledepa’s hometown—only ten years ago, somebody was arrested for beatin’ up a man he thought had hexed him. So I figured the belief is still hangin’ around there, and that Ledepa might have grown up with it. It’s hard for the intellect to entirely reject something it learned when it was young.” He poured a tumbler of scotch. “That, and I played him. Made it seem I felt the same way, and would back him up all the way.” He lifted his drink as the screen settled on a scene. “It’s startin’,” Lee said.

He turned up the sound.

” … shot in Jakarta today. The suspect claimed that the victim was a telepath who had cheated him at poker. Several unsubstantiated reports of similar attacks have surfaced in the last hour.” The view switched. He recognized a street in Paris. ` … only hours after a vidcast on the new report in the New England Journal of Medicine. He claimed his lover was a telepath who drove him insane…” And from a town in Mexico: ` … apparently in response to the alarmist reaction of Senator Ledepa Koya to a recent journal article alleging proof of extrasensory perception. No deaths are reported, though one man was critically wounded…”