Authors: Lorne L. Bentley
“Okay, don’t drink coffee; don’t drink tea, or gin, or whatever else might kill your memory.”
Fred remembered the joke about the blonde flying to Chicago who was asked to move to the back of a small plane to balance its weight distribution. She adamantly refused until the pilot told her something and she immediately got out of her seat and moved to the back. The stewardess asked what he said to her. He said, “I told her the front of the plane did not go to Chicago.” Maureen had told the joke to her woman’s club. When she finished the joke, all of the members laughed except one. The exception was a middle-aged blonde who asked, “Where did the front of the plane go?”
Fred left her desk thinking maybe the standard rap about dumb blondes might be more valid than he ever perceived.
On the way to Chuck Dodd’s office, he happened to see Miss Moore in the hall.
She greeted him warmly and then added, “I’m sorry if our extra sensory demonstration troubled you, Lieutenant. Sometimes Mr. Atwell can be a bit of a bother.”
“I would agree with you on that. But from now on I’ll never again question that extra sensory perceptions exist.
“Oh, they exist all right. Mr. Schultz is very deliberate as to who he hires. We had to go through an entire week of testing before we were even considered for the job.”
“I see. Out of curiosity, can you read just anyone’s mind, or does it have to be someone special?”
“Just about everybody, but sometimes the message I receive is a hodgepodge of impressions and visions and not very valuable. But actually, that is all some people have in their minds.”
“You mean, like our nation’s politicians?”
She laughed, “Yes, I guess they would all fit into my example.”
“You said you could just about read anyone’s mind, are there exceptions?”
“Well for starters I must tell you that initially I was able to read yours with no trouble, but then it seemed as if you started to erect some type of automatic block or filter.”
“That’s interesting. If I did it, it was a purely a product of my subconscious.”
“Perhaps you have more talent than you think you have.”
“I sincerely doubt that, I’m just a hard working cop who was lucky to get through college.”
Fred continued his questioning, “Are there any other exceptions to your mind reading talent?”
“Well, I’ve only come across a few so far. Believe it or not, one of them is Mr. Atwell. All I see is an all-encompassing black barrier when I try to enter his mind. It’s very strange, almost as if he has intentionally created some sort of strange defensive mechanism that blocks me. But he is just plain weird anyway. Oh, but I guess you consider us all weird.”
“No, not at all; I consider you special people laden with extraordinary talents.”
* * *
Fred entered the office of the head of the Science Division. Dodd welcomed him and asked if he would like a cup of coffee.
Fred said “No, thanks, I understand it dulls one’s mind.”
Dodd laughed, “I never heard that one before.”
“Actually until a few minutes ago, neither did I, now I tend to believe it. Mr. Dodd, for background purposes, can you tell me what your division does?”
Dodd said, “Sure, but please call me Chuck. We have multiple disciplines represented in my division. My background is in computer engineering.”
“I see. And does that expertise represent hardware or software?”
“Oh, it’s basically in software but I do have a sprinkling of knowledge in hardware platforms. Before I start with the details of what I do, let me start with our statistician’s job. I think that might give you a better overall understanding. Our statistician verifies that the extraordinary abilities represented in our paranormal divisions are scientifically legitimate. In other words, he certifies that the unique abilities of our employees are occurring beyond a random chance.”
“And how does he do that?”
“Let me give you a simple example. If you have a coin with heads and tails on it, and you flip it once, what are the chances you would be correct if you guessed tails for example?”
“That’s easy; fifty percent of course.”
“Right, an average person would experience that same rate of successful guessing. But if the coin were tossed 100 times and our subject guessed correctly each time, he would certainly be exceeding any random chances. Our statistician would measure how much beyond a random occurrence that would be.”
“Yes, I saw that experiment demonstrated in your Matter Division.”
Dodd continued, “It was our division that created the pyramidal contraption that you saw when you visited that division. But to continue, our statistician is responsible for the development of statistical controls. Let me give you an example associated with the remote viewing division. They often start their paranormal testing with a picture containing twenty distinct objects on it. The picture is, of course, located in another room from the subject and outside of his or her visual range. The subjects have been randomly selected from the general population. We determine from that control base an average of how many of the objects can be identified by subjects from the general population. That average becomes our baseline. Our expert’s success rate is then compared to the baseline. I should tell you our experts score well beyond the success rates of the general population, sometimes reaching 100% accuracy. And, of course, that has to be well beyond guessing.”
“Mr. Schultz mentioned that you have a neurologist in your organization. What does your neurologist do?”
“He identifies where in the brain these special capabilities exist. He also has developed a recording device to monitor the slight electrical discharge that is emitted when these extraordinary forces are in action.”
“That is quite impressive.”
“Oh, I’ve just begun. Then we have subjects think of some basic things, both those that create emotion and those that are emotionally neutral. We have learned how to capture the thought waves from our reading experts. Now we are attempting to decode them. What we have found so far is that two different paranormal experts, reading the same subject, emit a comparable pattern of thought waves. I then attempt to transfer that information into codified software and output the results. So far we have developed several preliminary codes that were extracted exclusively from our paranormal personnel.”
“You’ve accomplished this using the experts from all of the operating divisions?”
“Yes, to a degree. For example, we’ve had some minimal success from the remote division. We actually can obtain rough pictures from the computer that represents what our remote viewers are seeing.”
“It sounds as if someday you will be able to have a computer accomplish what humans are now doing in this field.”
“That day may not be a long way off, but you are getting into a classified area that I really can’t talk about. Our paranormal experts, however, have more responsibilities than just acting as guinea pigs for our division. The program managers, who use our company’s services, employ our human experts for practical exercises in the government. What they are doing is top secret. I myself don’t know what they are being asked to do, but sometimes they are on temporary duty for a week or two and I know that they serve all over the globe. That’s why we’ve built in limited redundancy into our work force, to insure we have an adequate indigenous work force when our people are away on assignment.”
“Your division seems to contain the same level of extraordinary talent as the operational divisions.”
“Not at all, we use a scientific approach for everything we do. And in that respect Mr. Schultz has hired some of the top scholars in the country. We need to develop extensive proof of concepts to satisfy the requirements demanded by our customers; otherwise they would perceive our experiments as some sort of black magic. In the Science Division, we all have extensive formal education in our respective fields. On the other hand, the people in the paranormal segment of our company seem to have innate talents. Likely the seeds of their capability had been genetically implanted at birth, and they certainly use a different part of the brain to accomplish their objectives as compared to my employees. In select ways they are comparable to idiot savants with respect to their extreme capabilities, but there are fundamental differences. Unlike with the savants, there’s no trade off. No part of their normal brain is diminished; in fact, most of our employees have superior IQs and their talent lies in areas far beyond that of the typical savant.”
“I understand, but yesterday I spoke to Ms. Moore and Mr. Atwell. They told me that when they used their combined talents synergistically, the results were more effective than when they functioned individually.”
“Yes, that seems to be the case, and the more interesting detail is that they are constantly in the process of developing their unique talents. It’s almost a type of accelerated intellectual progression on a scale that we have never seen before. I have no idea how they apply a learning curve to what they are doing, but without question they continue to learn, develop and refine. They are doing all of this inside their brains, often unassisted by outside help. There are no schools that teach the special gifts they have.”
“Mr. Dodd, have you ever used or dealt with hypnotism?”
“Interesting question, but no, I haven’t. I know it’s for real and that’s about all I know about it. Oh, yes, I do know that the difference between hypnotism and what our special employees do is the hypnotist requires the cooperation of his subjects. Our gifted employees do not.”
“Thanks, I appreciate the indoctrination.”
On his way out of the building, Fred stopped at the secretary’s desk. “Ms. Lang, did you remember who Mr. Ford stopped in to see that day?”
“Mr. Ford?”
“Yes, Mr. Ford, the person in the artist’s drawing that I showed you and you thought you recognized.”
“Oh, yes, I did remember.”
“Ms. Lang,—Donna—who in heaven’s name was it?”
“It wasn’t an it; it was a them. He wanted to see both Mr. Long and Mr. Jackson. It was such a strange coincidence, don’t you think, that both of them were killed less than a week later?”
Chapter 53
Jim had conducted a thorough check on Atwell, and the only thing he came up with was the fact that he had been sentenced to a period of three months in a juvenile delinquency institution when he was sixteen. Normally such a record would have been expunged; but fortunately, with an overloaded court system, it had slipped through the cracks.
The institution was in Gainesville, the home of the Florida “Gators,” a team that Jim had tracked since he was a kid. Jim thought it possibly more than a strange coincidence that Ford’s car had been found near Gainesville. Well, looks like I’m going to Gainesville again, Jim thought.
The institution looked more like a country club than a confinement complex. As he entered the complex, a large play field was to his left where kids, who looked like they were between twelve and sixteen, were playing baseball. To Jim they looked like normal kids. The only difference was that about five adults were watching their every move. He assumed they were the institution’s attendants. He also suspected that fights were not rare around here.
Mr. Crimshaw, the head of the complex, had agreed on the phone to see Jim, although he noted his time was brief. Crimshaw looked to be in his early sixties; Jim hoped that he had been at the institution for awhile and had firsthand knowledge to pass on about Atwell. Mr. Crimshaw was deeply concerned about releasing information that never should have been available, had all concerned done their job as expected. When Jim told him it was in connection with a murder investigation, Crimshaw reluctantly relented.
Crimshaw said, “I remember Marvin Atwell very well. I was never so happy as the day he left here.”
“Do you believe he was rehabilitated at the time he left?”
“Well, I’m one of those people who believe strongly in the power of rehabilitation, even more so back then. Often these kids come from broken homes, homes where they have not been loved or, worse yet, have been beaten on a frequent basis. We take them out of that environment, give them lots of love, make sure we socialize them, teach them discipline and self-respect, and it does wonders. Of course, our time with these kids is limited, but I’ve made it a habit to follow up on what has happened to them after they leave. You cannot believe how many have become very successful in society. Of course, there are the exceptions.”
“What was your experience with Atwell?”
“Well, he was small compared to his peers and he was picked on a lot when he first arrived here. Of course, we have counselors who attempt to make sure that doesn’t happen, but we can’t be everywhere all the time. At any rate, those boys didn’t pick on Marvin very long.”
“What happened?”
“I really don’t know, except the bullies gradually became terrified of Marvin. He had grown an inch or so in the short time he was here but he was still small for his age; so it wasn’t the fact that he could physically stand up to them. Kids would actually walk the other way when he came in their direction. It was the strangest thing. I attempted to interview one of the boys to see what Marvin held over them; but he actually started shaking as I was talking to him, and he almost begged me to stop the interview.”