Prophecy. An ARKANE thriller. (Book 2) (6 page)

Morgan could see the ambulance door closing and the face of the orderly as he grinned in triumph. He was hurrying to close the door, kicking away the other paramedic who had been helping, all pretense now gone. She had to take the shot before the police stopped her or Dinah would be lost. In those milliseconds, Morgan took advantage of the tunnel vision and slowed time that adrenalin provides. She fired. One, two shots through the gap of the door. Seeing the orderly drop in the back of the van, she threw the gun to the ground and herself to her knees. Arms up, palms out in surrender, showing the weapon was gone.

“I’m IDF” she shouted. Police surrounded her, guns pointing straight at her head.
 

Zoebios Head Office. Paris, France. 9.24am

The subject was a forty-two year old accountant professing a moderate Catholicism that involved going to confession twice a year. He had estimated two out of ten for the importance of religious experience in his life. Of course, these questions were hidden in a raft of others that ensured the subject couldn’t prepare for the experience and had no expectation of what they might feel. Dr Maria Van Garre was nevertheless experiencing a thrill of anticipation, as they only had a few more subjects to complete the research. Already the results were clear and tomorrow she would present them to the Board. The trials on the audio for anxiety and depression had been successful and fast-tracked to public release. But her academic drive had urged her to take the technology further into the realms of direct influence on behavior. She was fascinated by how far the obedience studies could be taken and now sought additional funding for the next step.
 

“Is that comfortable?” She adjusted the eye mask to make sure the cotton wool padding was tight against the subject’s eyes. “It’s important that you can’t see anything.”
 

“That’s fine. So what should I be expecting?”

“It’s a completely individual experience, Mr … ” Maria checked the clipboard.
 

“Agineux.”

“Of course. You should just relax and let whatever happens, happen. Just be an observer.”

“But it won’t hurt?”

“Of course not. The field is actually weaker than a fridge magnet,” Maria replied in a soothing tone, trying not to sound like she did this several times a day. “I’m going to put the helmet on you now and then you won’t be able to hear me anymore. Once it’s in place, just lie back and relax. You’ll hear rainfall at first as a way to help you focus. Just concentrate on breathing evenly and enjoy having a rest. I’ll squeeze your hand before I leave the room so you’ll know the experiment is about to begin and I’ll come and get you afterwards.”

“Beats a few hours at work anyhow.” The man smiled, but his blinking eyes betrayed his nerves.
 

Maria put the helmet over his head and he pulled it into place so it fitted snugly. She fastened the strap under his chin, ensuring the markers were in the correct place to focus the weak magnetic field onto the temporal lobe. She helped him lie back and then squeezed his hand. Walking to the door, she turned the lights off, checking the room for any ambient light and then left. The subject was left in pitch darkness, snug in his relaxing chair. Some days Maria just wanted to sink into the chair herself and soothe away her stress. She had a lot of work ahead but the research was worth every second.
 

Her assistant, Simone Moreau, clicked on the introductory soundtrack as soon as Maria closed the door behind her. They were experimenting with different conditions for the auditory feed while leaving the magnetic field the same. Some would hear just the rainfall and thunderstorms in the distance, a relaxing soundtrack of nature. Others were fed binaural beat technology that included a behavior for them to physically perform after the experience. It was a simple task but not something they would perform without some kind of direction. Neither of the researchers knew which condition the computer would assign this subject to. It was all randomized by the program.
 

“Do you want to classify some of the other records while we wait for this one?” Simone asked. “I know you want the report to be ready as soon as possible.”

It took around an hour for the program to complete and then they had to debrief the subject, which involved a recorded interview. They were trying to classify the experiences so that the results could be analyzed further. Maria nodded and sat down at the desk.

“Sure, let’s do a couple. What have you got?”

Simone read from a printout.
 

“This one experienced a sudden wave of darkness and saw a distant point of light, then felt a presence standing behind, watching over them. Oh wait, they described it as ‘The’ Presence, not just ‘a’ presence.”

“Ok, how did the presence feel?”

Simone skimmed the page.
 

“It wasn’t threatening, but it wasn’t kind either. It was just there.”

“Tag that one with tunnel because it sounds similar to the near death experiences, and also tag with ambivalent presence. Did they hear anything?”

“Nothing noted.”

Maria tutted.
 

“Sometimes I don’t think we’re asking the right questions. But it’s so hard to try and put an experience into language. What else?”
 

“This one ticked the box indicating that the experience didn’t come from their own mind, so I’ll tag with external locus.”

The metronomic needle on the brainwave readout swished as it changed the depths of the peaks and troughs.
 

“Looks like our man just had his first experience,” Maria noted.
 

Simone shuffled through the papers. “Interesting. This woman saw flames and said she actually felt heat although it didn’t burn her. She saw faces distorted by the heat and said she actually counted the individual presences as if they had been standing there next to her.”

“That could be disturbing,” Maria noted. “Imagine if you had that type of vision in a church or by yourself in your room at night. It’s certainly the basis for nightmares.”

“Or even a belief in demons and hell,” Simone replied. “I know we’re not meant to use religious terminology but seriously, flames? I’d be worried.”

Of course they had both been in the helmet themselves but neither of them talked about their experiences. They didn’t want to bring a bias to the experiment in terms of acknowledging their own belief, or lack of it. Maria knew that everyone experienced different things, which made it all the harder to classify. Those who had some form of religious belief often had visions that fitted their idea of God. Some people experienced nothing at all. They were often disappointed, as if there was something deficient in them that prevented a higher level of consciousness.
 

“What about the drug arm at the clinics? I’m keen to know how that went,” Maria asked.
 

“They’re wrapping up next week, although they used the modified headsets for a more portable environment. Have you tried them?”

Maria thought about the nights she had been using them as a sleep aid. It had become a kind of addiction for her and now she couldn’t sleep without them. She had used a certain frequency and then a suggestion for deep sleep in the binaural beat.

“No, I’ll wait for the results, but it looks promising so far.”

Simone nodded.
 

“If they work, the Board will definitely give us funding. This could be a major breakthrough.”

Maria grinned, pleased with her enthusiasm.
 

“Who would have believed that a simple headset could pave the way to the kingdom of heaven?”
 

“Do you really believe that?” Simone’s voice was serious now.
 

Maria considered her words. These experiments were challenging for all of the researchers involved and she knew many, herself included, were wrestling with personal doubts.

“There are two positions and I flip between them. One is that God gave us this part of our brain so we could experience Him and a type of consciousness that we don’t access in everyday life. The other is that we have evolved to believe in a God who doesn’t actually exist but is, in fact, manufactured by our brains. I know believers and atheists who both think the God helmet validates their opposite positions.”

“I don’t understand why humans would evolve to believe in God if he, or she, didn’t exist,” Simone said. “Where’s the sense in that?”

Maria shuffled the scientific papers in front of her, unsure how far to take the discussion.
 

“Evolutionary psychologists have suggested that perhaps mankind evolved to a point where they understood the inevitability of physical death. There were some who started to believe there was more than just a physical life, and over time, these people were selected for, in a Darwinian sense, as they were the most hopeful and the ones who helped others.”

“To reduce the anxiety of death, we came up with the unending beyond the physical. Ok, I can see that.” The machine pinged. Simone turned to check the display. “The subject is almost cooked. Who’s doing this debrief?”

“I’ll do it. You’ve done more than your fair share recently,” Maria gathered a question sheet and a small soft toy rabbit from the pile near the door. When the light above the door went green, she stepped into the room and flicked on the low lighting. She put the toy rabbit within reach of the man but under the chair she sat down on so it wasn’t obvious. She touched his hand so that he would know the experience was now over. He tried to pull the helmet off and she slowed him, helping him carefully and removing the eye pads. He blinked at the lights, his breathing elevated.
 

“Man, that was weird,” he said, his eyes dazed.
 

“If you would just try to breathe gently, Mr Agineux,” Maria said. “I’d like to ask you some questions about what you experienced. This is being recorded, so please be as honest as you can with your responses.”

“Of course. I’m keen to find out what the hell you did to me.”

“Can you start by explaining what happened at the beginning of the experience?”

Agineux leaned forward.
 

“It was dark and then I started to see shapes swirling about me in a kind of mist. They were like ghosts or maybe angels but they had flat faces, like nothing was really in there.”

He leaned further forward, reaching under Maria’s chair at full stretch. He pulled out the toy rabbit and hugged it tightly to his chest.
 

“I could hear voices coming from them, but I couldn’t make out the words. Were those angel voices?”

Maria remained impassive.
 

“Please continue describing the experience,” she said evenly.
 

“They swirled around me and then I felt more of a dominant presence, a one-ness but I was part of it too.” His hands had begun to worry at the rabbit’s ears, twisting them, winding and pulling them.
 

“I could smell something funny, maybe smoke, maybe incense. It was sticky.”

“Sticky?”

“Like it got stuck in my nose, like pollen makes you clog up.” At this, he gave a violent tug and ripped the rabbit’s ears off, leaving a lump of pink fur in his big hands.
 

“Oh, sorry, I don’t know what I was doing.”

“That’s fine,” Maria said, taking the pieces from him and putting them out of sight.
 

“Please finish describing what you experienced.”
 

It must be the rabbit condition again, thought Maria. She and Simone didn’t know who was assigned to it, but it became obvious soon after the interview began. Suggestions were deeply embedded so the subject didn’t know what they had been told to do, but the experience of the voices made it sound as if the command had come from God himself.
 

“It was like I was dreaming, but also awake,” Agineux continued. “I’ve heard of lucid dreaming, perhaps that was it?”

He was looking at her for some kind of sign.

 
“Go on.” She remained impassive.

“That was it mostly, except I wanted to stay there even though it was uncomfortable. There was something timeless about it, something that makes coming back to my daily life seem quite pointless. I want that feeling again, Doctor. How can I get it back?”

“Thank you, Mr Agineux. I appreciate your candor but we can only have you in the experiment once.” She handed him a booklet. “This explains the science behind the helmet and there is also a number for you to call if you are worried or have any concerns. My assistant will show you to the rest area now.”

“Isn’t there some kind of personal use device for this?” he asked, a tinge of desperation in his voice.
 

Maria looked at him, curious about his interest.
 

“We have your details so we’ll keep you posted with any developments. Thank you again for your time.”

She walked out the room, trying to hide her elation. He had performed the rabbit action so the suggestion was embedded, but he also wanted more. If there was some kind of addictive effect that made people want to return repeatedly to the headset, that would drive additional benefits. This was the final result she needed for the Board presentation the following day.
 

Central Police Station. Jerusalem, Israel. 12.41pm.
 

Lior Avidan entered the interrogation room holding a cup of coffee and waved at the other officers to leave. He sat across from Morgan, her hands cuffed on the metal table. He placed the cup in front of her.

“Strong black. I thought you might need it.”

“You remembered.”
 

She smiled at him, fatigue showing in her face, but that violet slash in her right eye was as vivid as ever. A flash of memory and he saw her laughing, eyes sparkling at him as the waters of the Red Sea swirled about them.
 

“Of course … but it’s been a long time.”