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Authors: Lorne L. Bentley

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BOOK: The Monolith Murders
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“Don’t worry unnecessarily, Fred. It will take time; but once you are back in your apartment with Maureen you’ll feel much better.”
 

Later that day he picked up on a conversation that Dr. Cunningham was having with Maureen in the hospital down the hall from his room. The doctor was telling her that he was concerned about her husband’s progress. She asked him if there had been any permanent damage to Fred’s brain.
 

“No, not at all; his healing is fine. It’s just that he seems to lack the ability to always discriminate as to the mental signals he is receiving. He processes a wide spectrum of signals, but he seems to lack the ability to be totally selective as to what he allows through. At times, he appears to be processing them all simultaneously; other times, he picks up everything clearly. To be honest, Maureen, we really don’t have a lot of experience in this area. We can do a rough comparison to employees in AU who have had extensive experience in their respective fields. Some have demonstrated their ESP ability since early childhood.”
 

“Well, how is Fred different from them?”

“They can execute their powers at will. They seem to have erected a mental gate which shuts down their system whenever they want, and it also acts as a filter when they want selective signals to enter. Fred hasn’t yet developed that gate.”

“When will he?”

“Over time, I’m sure. I’ve stopped giving him any more ESP tests for the moment because he needs to relax, to figure this out for himself. It’s something like a powerful new Corvette engine being forced to fit into a 1950 Volkswagen. The power is there, and it’s there beyond all expectations. But the suspension, brakes and handling have to be adjusted correspondingly—to be optimized, so to speak. Only Fred can perform that optimization.”
 

Fred was not at all happy with what he was hearing. Beyond his inability to channel the images he was receiving, he was starting to dislike the entire hospital staff. There was no objective reason for this, since they provided him with 24-hour dedicated and friendly care. Nevertheless, his perception of them was turning more and more negative. He hoped with the return of his missing skull piece and a few days of rest, he would return to his old self.
 

 
There was something else that concerned Fred. He reflected often on the Amish craftsmen who used no power tools in their work. All of their hand tools were, in essence, an extension of themselves. The furniture they built proudly displayed the marks of their human engineering, both their successes and mistakes. Such products were not a mass produced robotic effort, but one of dedication, care, and the sense of personal achievement reflected throughout the process. The tools they employed were hand planes, spoke shavers, and chisels—all of which were lovingly passed on through several generations. They believed that the painstaking furniture they built was a gift from God, thus their efforts were intrinsically linked to their religion.

Similarly, Fred had always loved to put his analytical skills to work in resolving his cases, to thread through the mass of evidence, to discern the subtle lynch pins that held his cases together. He enjoyed filtering through suspects’ testimony, finding inconsistencies and errors that helped him discern the guilty parties.
 

But now, with his artificially engendered capacities, he would bypass the creative part of the process—the strong motivating magnet that brought him to his office each day. It would be as if the Amish craftsman’s hand tools had been removed and replaced with faster electrical labor-saving machinery. The raw material had become veneers and cheap, compressed wood pulp, rather than solid beautiful grained timber produced by God’s own nature.

With his new ESP capability, Fred would now be able to read suspects’ minds, discern who was guilty, determine where to find evidence, arrest the suspect, and go home for the rest of the day. From now on, he thought, my job and my life will turn boring and uncreative.

Also concerning Fred was the fear that more than likely the CIA would start sending him on assignments to places that weren’t even on the map, dangerous areas where Maureen would not be allowed to follow. He feared that he would spend his remaining days mired in inhospitable countries constantly seeking enemies of the state. The future won’t be fun at all, he projected.
 

 

Chapter 54

 

From her hotel room, Donna started to employ her remote viewing skills, mentally casing the CIA expanse and all of its several nooks and crannies. Exercising her unique skills, she selectively filled her brain with the sights, sounds and the pulse of the agency. She mentally entered locked doors designated top secret, she bypassed with ease all of the latest technical advancements intended to stop authorized entries. Her skills were still distant from where they had been four years ago, but nevertheless she was now far superior to the person she had been reduced to during her extended prison sentence.
 

Her mind roamed around the agency as freely as a butterfly would, searching through a yard plentiful with flowers, and selecting just the right one to extract nectar from. But what she saw was nothing like the world of a butterfly. The images that entered her mind were devoid of color; they transmitted only in washed out monochromatic images of black and gray.
 

She was now viewing the area only externally; once she fixed on a human target, she would attempt to enter that person’s mind and share the view of what they were observing. Select targets were often not that easy to lock into.
 

She understood that the device had been placed in that segment of her brain where her normal senses resided. At times her special powers became co-mingled with her other senses. When her special powers found their target, often a salty taste would develop in her mouth. She didn’t understand the esoteric link but she didn’t have to—she just needed to be alert to it and use it.

Suddenly, she started to experience that unique taste in her mouth; Maureen’s image started to come into focus. Donna shifted her mental processes from external to internal, entering the visionary segment of Maureen’s brain.
 

The time was 3 a.m., but Donna saw no evidence of Fred with Maureen. Where could he be at this early hour, she wondered, and why in hell was he in the CIA compound anyway? Polish hadn’t obtained any information as to why was Fred was there, just that he was.
 

She left Maureen and shifted back to remote viewing. She exited the unit and observed the host of buildings scattered throughout the complex. One by one she mentally entered each of the buildings. Most were shut down for the night, so the absence of conflicting activities and movements allowed her to progress more expeditiously than she would have been able to during busy daytime hours.
 

It was approaching 5 a.m. She had been at this tedious work for two hours and was feeling mentally exhausted. When she viewed Building 14, she received the slightest hint of a salty taste. She became exuberant, “Got him!” she yelled out loud.
 

Floor by floor she surveyed the building; on the tenth floor the taste became stronger. Her pulse was now starting to race. As she advanced, she progressed down long medical hallways, passing several nurses that were oblivious to her presence. Propelled by brain waves, she could have moved at any pace, virtually unconstrained by the laws of physics. At the moment, though, she consciously moved slowly, needing to be deliberate to determine Fred’s exact location.
 

Then she saw him in one of the hospital rooms; he had a massive bandage on his head. Was he in an accident, Donna thought, and if so, why was he in a CIA medical facility? Donna had not even considered the possibility that another paranormal device had been developed. Maybe if I can enter his mind, I can find out what this is all about, she thought.
 

As she attempted entry, she was immediately assaulted by a fury of uncontrolled sights, colors and sounds! At that moment Fred’s eyes opened. Donna became the recipient of a powerful psychic force, one that she had never experienced before. Its impact pushed her off her motel bed. She fell hard on the motel’s carpeted floor. As she lay on the floor, she realized that she was experiencing the worst migraine she ever had in her life. What the hell is going on, she thought. Is he crazy? And have I now somehow become part of his madness?
 

 

Chapter 55

 

Fred woke up from an uneasy sleep. He had dreamed that something was trying to enter his brain and shut down his involuntary responses, which allowed him to breathe and his heart to beat. Automatically, he issued a fierce defense, mustering all the extrasensory powers he could generate. He abruptly woke up from the confines of his lurid dream. It was 5 a.m.
 

He edged slowly back into his sedated sleep. He awoke five hours later to the sight of Dr. Factor standing over him, tapping gently on his shoulder.
 

“Fred it’s time for you to get out of here and rejoin your wife. It’s been five days since your operation and you have healed well—better than expected.
 

“By the way, your clearance has finally come in. Congratulations, you’re now classified top secret –the government’s top level. You can now walk around the compound at will without those omnipresent pesky escorts that I know you hate. You’re officially one of us now.”

 
“One of you! That’s great.”

“Yes, we all think so as well.”
 

It was obvious that Factor hadn’t picked up on Fred’s contained sarcasm, and for a second he thought the overjoyed doctor was going to try to kiss him out of sheer gratitude.
 

Shortly after Dr. Factor left, Dr. Cunningham walked into Fred’s room.
 

“You seem to be doing quite well from a psychological perspective,” the doctor said. “Get dressed, and get out of here. We’ll talk later this week.”

Fred got dressed, saying nothing. The hole in his head had been covered with his real skull flap, but he was still heavily bandaged; He presented a bizarre sight to the few CIA employees who were on the grounds this early hour as he strolled back to his unit.
 

His eyes remained focused only on the icy path in directly in front of him. He didn’t notice the silvery sky, the bone chilling temperature, or the pallid snow that had blanketed the grounds while he was confined.
 

He opened the door to his unit; Maureen was on the couch watching mid-morning TV. She had been notified that he would be coming home today, but she had expected his arrival to be later in the day. When the door opened, she knew immediately it was Fred; she turned around to greet him. Her mood had picked up. Now that Fred is back, things will finally return to semi-normal, she thought.

But what she saw was not Fred, but a person who only retained his basic appearance. His face seemed to have regressed to that of one locked in a primordial period. What stood above her was a snarling and animal-like creature issuing guttural sounds that she had never heard before from either human or animal.

He proceeded slowly and methodically to her couch. His hands were outstretched to her; but she didn’t see an embrace; this monster was going to kill her. She began to shiver uncontrollably.

 

Chapter 56

 

“No, Fred, no!” Maureen screamed.

“Maureen, honey, take it easy, I’m only kidding.”

“Oh, God, Fred, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sorry that my attempt at humor was in such poor taste. Actually I’m feeling great. I guess my release from the hospital has really helped me psychologically. When these head bandages finally come off, I’ll feel even better.”

As they embraced, she slapped him lightly in the face. “Damn it, Fred, you scared me half to death.”

Finally relaxing in his arms, she asked, “What happens now?”

“I don’t know; they gave me a break from the battering ram of the psychological operational tests they were administering. I’m glad they did, because this morning I had a terrible dream. But since then I think I’ve been able to exercise greater control over these new powers that I’ve been given. I was in a sensory overload for awhile, but that’s not happening anymore, at least for the moment.”

Maureen’s curiosity wasn’t satisfied. “But what happens to us now?”
 

“It’s to our advantage to stay here as long as we can. I suspect that in a few days they will begin the testing process again. But eventually they will discharge me, and then I’ll have to return to Sarasota.
 

“Maureen, when I leave, if they won’t allow you to stay here alone, I want you to take off to the north. Somehow I feel this area is too close to Donna for your own good.”
 

“We’re about 900 miles away from Sarasota, Fred. If that’s not far enough, what the hell is?”

“I don’t know, babe; it’s just a strong feeling that I have.”

In her days of solitude, while Fred had been confined to the hospital area, Maureen had been reflecting on the AU case. “Fred, the last time we talked about the case, you found the killings at AU strange and out of character with Donna’s MO.”

BOOK: The Monolith Murders
8.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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