Authors: J. B. Tilton
"Good," said Jeremy. "Now, look at the glass on the table. Imagine yourself in a crowded room. All that information coming into your mind at the same time are the voices of the people in that room all talking at the same time. That valve is the one voice in the room you want to hear. Concentrate on it and try to block all the others out."
Conrad concentrated for a moment. Jeremy couldn't tell if he was being successful or not. Finally Conrad slumped down in his chair.
"It isn't working," he said dejectedly. "It's all still coming in so fast."
"That's okay," said Jeremy. "I wouldn't expect it to work the first time. Remember when you were learning to ride a bicycle? You probably fell down a few times before you finally were able to stay up on the bike."
"More than a few times."
"This is no different. Like any skill, you have to learn how to use it. And you're going to fail at least a few times especially in the beginning. So don't get discouraged. Now, try it again. Try to block out all the information in your mind except for the thought of that faulty valve. Kamalene, think of that valve. That might help Conrad center in on it better."
Conrad concentrated on the glass again. He gripped the side of the table and Jeremy could tell he was gripping it very hard. The moments passed as he concentrated. Jeremy scarcely breathed not wanting to break his concentration. Suddenly Conrad gave a slight jump and looked up in surprise.
"I think it worked," he said excitedly. "The pain out here isn't as bad as when I'm in the city but I think it actually became less for a second. And that valve? I could actually see it in my mind. Almost as if it was sitting right here on the table."
"That's very good," said Jeremy. "That's progress. It's a good start. Now, see if you can pick out something else in your mind. Something different from the valve. And try it again. See if you can block out everything but that thought."
Conrad sat and thought for a moment. Then he gripped the edge of the table and began to concentrate on the glass. He concentrated even longer this time. Jeremy could see the knuckles on his hands begin to turn white. But he didn't want to break Conrad's concentration. Finally Conrad relaxed, releasing his grip on the table. As he did he began to flex his hands.
"Boy, I guess I've been gripping the table pretty hard," he said. "My hands are starting to cramp up."
"That's okay, it'll pass in a moment," said Jeremy. "How'd it go?"
"Good," said Conrad. "Someone named Jennifer Cowl. Trying to decide if she should marry this guy who seems to treat her like crap."
"Oh, uh, yeah," said Jeremy, suddenly very nervous. "Conrad, Jennifer is – was – one of my patients. That information is confidential. You can't tell anyone about it."
"I understand," said Conrad. "To be honest, that's about all I got. But it worked even better than before. The noise in my head is usually something like this shrieking wind or something. It's so loud I can barely think. But just now I could tell it was actually quieter. It wasn't so loud. It was still plenty loud. But not as much as before. And the pain was considerably less as well."
"That's what I told you. Now you see that it is possible to control your ability. And by controlling it, you can make the pain go away. It's just going to take some practice, that's all. Like anything else the more you practice the better you'll get. All you have to do is pick something in your mind and concentrate on it, trying to push everything else out. It will become easier the more you do it."
"Okay, I guess I can try," said Conrad.
"Well, let's try something a little different. Sit back and close your eyes. Now. Imagine you're sitting in the middle of a forest. In front of you is a small pond and behind the pond is a waterfall. It's not loud. Just loud enough to hear. Now concentrate on the waterfall. See if you can push everything out of your mind except it."
Conrad sat relaxed in his chair with his eyes closed. Jeremy could see his eyes moving back and forth under his eyelids as he envisioned the scene. He saw watching Conrad for several moments. Suddenly Conrad opened his eyes and nearly jumped out of his chair.
"I don't believe it," he nearly shouted. "For just a moment there . . . . oh, hell." He grabbed his head and collapsed back into his chair.
"What is it?" Jeremy asked afraid Conrad had hurt himself.
"For just a moment the pain was gone," replied the young man. "It was very brief but it was definitely gone. And my head seemed clear. I didn't hear that constant buzzing that I usually hear. But now it's back with a vengeance."
"Here, take these," said Jeremy, laying some more of the painkillers on the table. "Kamalene, would you get him some water please? Conrad I think that for just a minute you shut all those other minds around you out. I saw it in your aura. For just the briefest moment it returned to normal. I think the pain you're feeling now is all that information suddenly rushing back in. The painkillers should help."
"Thanks," said Conrad, taking the glass of water from Kamalene. "It was hard to do but I think you're right. For just the briefest of moments everything was clear. And there was no pain."
"I think that's enough for now," said Jeremy. "You've had a very eventful morning. And we have definitely made progress. We'll try again later. Right now, just take the painkillers and get some rest."
Conrad took the pills and then headed to his room.
"Well, that certainly seemed promising," said Janet.
"More than promising," replied Jeremy. "I never expected him to make that kind of progress on his very first attempt. I thought we might make some progress but he said the pain was completely gone. That's amazing for someone who didn't know he had a special ability yesterday."
"Director Scarborough will be glad to hear that," said Kamalene. "He'll have some good news to report to Secretary Napolitano."
"I wouldn't get ahead of myself just yet," said Jeremy. "I said he had a good start. We still have a lot of work to do. He's just begun to learn how to control it. It may take some time before he gets full control of it."
"I think I'd better go to the store," said Janet. "If we're going to be here a while we're going to need some food."
"That's a good idea," said Jeremy. "Before you go see if there's anything special Conrad wants."
"Okay. I'll start making a list. Kamalene, you want to come with me? I could probably use the help."
"Sure," said Kamalene. "There's this dish my mother used to make that she taught me how to make. We can pick up the ingredients for it while we're out."
Jeremy just smiled as he went into the kitchen to make some coffee. At least Kamalene seemed to be lightening up. Up until then she had acted like she felt out of place. If she were going to be part of the team she would have to learn to come out of her shell more.
"So, how long do you think it will be before he's ready to join the team?" Scarborough asked at dinner that night.
"That's impossible to say," said Jeremy. "He's only begun to learn to control his ability. There's no telling how long it will take before he's really got control of it."
"Okay," said Scarborough. "But you've taught him how to get control of it."
"I've taught him some basics. He can practice them for a while and then I'll see about teaching him some more advanced methods."
"How long?"
"How long what?"
"How long will he have to practice the basics?"
"A few days maybe. He should be ready for something more advanced after that."
"Good." Scarborough took a sheet of paper out of his pocket and laid it on the table next to Jeremy. "While he's doing that here are some names for you to check out. There are three names and they all live in the immediate area."
"I really should be here to help Conrad," said Jeremy. "He may run into some problems."
"Can he practice these techniques without you?"
"Well, yes, but," started Jeremy.
"Fine. You can be a lot more use out there looking than babysitting here. Kamalene can stay and watch him and she can call you if there's a problem."
"Well, I suppose that will be okay," said Jeremy. "What can you tell me about these names?"
"Everything is on that paper. You just need to check them out and see if they're what we're looking for."
"Okay. We'll go out first thing in the morning. I'll call you when I have anything."
Scarborough just smiled at Jeremy. He had expected him to put up a bigger fuss about leaving a patient and all. But then technically Conrad wasn't exactly a "patient". And Jeremy understood that he'd have to learn to use his power on his own sooner or later anyway.
Jeremy and Janet came out of a small shop in downtown D.C. As they did, Jeremy took out the list Scarborough had given him and marked off the last name on the list. Then he put the list back in his pocket.
"Well, three up, three down," said Janet.
"At least we're batting a thousand," said Jeremy. "I don't know why Richard thought these three people were candidates for the team. None of them had anything remotely like a special talent."
"I don't know," said Janet. "That last one seemed to a good candidate."
"He had no talent. He wasn't even the least bit psychic as Richard said he was."
"Well, he seemed to know things. Things that didn't he shouldn't have been able to know."
"Please," said Jeremy. "He was nothing but a con artist. He's been using tricks that con artists have been using for centuries to gain the confidence his marks."
"Such as?"
"Okay. Let me see. I'm getting an impression from you. A family member maybe. I'm getting something about the letter B or C or maybe G. An uncle? Gregory or George or . . . ."
"Gerald," Janet said. "I have an uncle named Gerald."
"Yeah, Gerald, that's it. There's something about an illness. Cancer maybe. No, not cancer. A disease of the lungs or bones."
"Uncle Gerald had bone cancer. I never told you that, Jeremy. How could you possibly know that?"
"You just told me," said Jeremy. "I just made a few general comments with a few possible answers to it. And like most people, you provided me with the right answer. I just take that answer and carry it a little further.
"Now that was just the most rudimentary example. A true con artist can do it and make it look completely innocent. He may give you about a hundred answers only about 5 or 6 will actually be accurate. But you don't remember the wrong answers. You just remember the ones he happened to get right."
"And that's what that guy was doing back there?"
"Pretty much. Oh, he was very good at it. I nearly didn't catch it. But I could also tell he wasn't using an ability. His aura never changed. So I knew there had to be different answer for what he was doing."
"Well, it's a good thing you were here. I almost fell for it."
"Most people do. That's what makes con artists so good. They tell you what you want to hear. And the truly good ones can do it in a way that it actually sounds like it's your idea."
"I'll keep that in mind. I wonder how many of them I've run across and never even know it."
"Probably more than you think," said Jeremy. He was talking to Janet but he was looking across the street at a bank. Standing in front of the bank was a man about his age wearing a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase. Janet looked at the man but didn't see anything unusual about him.
"You know that guy?" she asked.
"Yes. His name is Gene Landow. Oh, I don't know him well. I only see him at some medical conventions I've attended."
"So, an old friend. Another psychiatrist?"
"Well, not exactly an old friend. But, no, he's not a psychiatrist. He's a surgeon. And a very good one. I think I'll stop by and say hi. We're finished checking out the people for today. I think we can take it easy for a bit."
"What about Conrad? Don't you want to get back and see how he's doing?"
"He's in good hands. If there is a problem Kamalene will call me. And it won't take long to just say hi. Come on. It looks like he's going in that diner up the street."
While they were talking Dr. Landow had turned and walked up the street from the bank. He was just entering the diner as Jeremy and Janet approached. They entered the diner and Jeremy located him looking over a menu.
"Slumming?" Jeremy asked, walking up to the man, a smile on his face.
"I beg your pardon?" questioned the man, a distinct British accent in his voice.
"I'm sorry. I saw you on the street and thought I'd say hello. I didn't know you frequented places like this."
"Only on some rare occasions. My, uh, driver hasn't returned yet. So I thought I'd get a bite to eat while I was waiting. Mr.?"
"Sloan. Dr. Jeremy Sloan. We met last year at a medical conference in Los Angeles. You were the keynote speaker if I believe. You delivered a message on a new procedure for replacing faulty heart valves."