“Normal? Me?”
“Yeah.” She tapped his small chest. “You’ve got a heart in there. Most of these guys are pigs. All they want to do is screw and drink. Some of them can’t even get it up they’re so wasted. And after they’re done, they get up and leave. Not even a ‘had a nice time’ or ‘it was fun.’”
“Meatheads,” Paul said.
“Yeah,” Patricia said, laughing and tickling him.
The two remained in the room for the entire night, continuing to talk. He’d told her his real name and where he lived. He genuinely liked her, wondering if he’d ever have a chance with such a beautiful person. It was a shame that she had to sell her body to afford school. For as brief as it was, Paul had found his second real crush, but it was the last time he’d ever see her.
A few years later, he found out that the woman, Patricia Keyes, had given birth to a girl. It turned out that after that night with Paul, Patricia left the hooker business. Paul had liked that, smiling at the news, but then felt like a piece of him had died with the next revelation. Patricia, after deciding to tell Paul about the baby, was killed in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver.
To be certain about the baby, Paul had a DNA test performed, allowing Patricia’s parents to meet him in secret; The Murphy Unit never would have allowed such a distraction. The baby girl, now three and named Annabel, was his.
It was as if nothing else mattered anymore after finding out that he was a father. Annabel had become his reason for living. Science was still his passion, but it was no longer his driving force in life.
Knowing what he had to do in order to be a father, a proper parent, Paul went to Commander Keegan. He explained everything and told the commander that the girl wouldn’t be a disruption. Commander Keegan denied his request to be a father, forbidding Paul to see his daughter. Paul’s place of residence was moved, all traces of his existence wiped away like dust on a windowsill. He was then threatened and told that if he decided to leave or contact the grandparents, they and the little girl would be killed. Paul had signed on as a member of The Murphy Unit, and for the next twenty years he was theirs.
“It’s all true,” Karen confirmed when Paul was done talking. “I was tapped into him the entire time he was speaking.”
“Then it seems we’ve lucked out in choosing you,” Morgan told him. “Sounds like you want out of the Murphy Unit and for you and your daughter to have a life together.”
“Very much so,” Paul said.
“He wants away from the company as much as we want to destroy it,” Karen confirmed.
“If you have a way,” Paul said, “I’m onboard.”
“What about the spaceship?” Karen asked. “Have they found it yet?”
Paul looked shocked. “You know about that?”
“Yes,” Karen said, leaning over her chair and peering into Paul’s mind.
“They haven’t found it yet, but I would guess it won’t be long. With them thinking you’re dead, all resources will be focused on finding that ship. General Krueger gets what General Krueger wants.”
“Who is General Krueger?” Morgan asked.
“The head honcho,” Paul said. “The man in charge.”
“What happened to Commander Keegan? I thought you said he denied your request to be a father?”
“He did, but that was years ago. Commander Keegan left and a new bastard is in charge.”
Morgan felt stricken. He’d been counting on having a chance to kill Keegan and now that would have to wait.
“Where is Keegan now?”
“I’m just a lowly scientist,” Paul said. “I have no idea, but I haven’t seen the man since he left.”
Morgan felt cheated, but there were bigger fish to fry at the moment. Finding Keegan would just have to wait.
“We need to get to one of the gate guards,” Morgan said. “They’ll know the fuel schedule.”
“You’re going to blow the place up?” Paul asked, alarm in his voice.
“Yeah,” Morgan answered. “How’d you know?”
“Why else would you want to know the fuel delivery schedule,” Paul said. “I think I can help with that.”
“Go on,” Karen told him.
Paul went on to explain that the base was well-armed and fortified. The barn was simply a false structure. The real compound was underground, consisting of four levels that could withstand any outside attack short of a full-on aerial bombardment. But it did have a weakness, one he could hardly believe was never corrected.
“It’s basically one gigantic gasoline tank,” he said. “But running a truck…five trucks into the building and blowing them up won’t do much. The place is too well-built and if one section does happen to get breached from physical damage, or a contagion is let loose, the other sections are sealed off with four-foot steel doors.”
“So what’s the vulnerable position?” Morgan asked.
“The filling point,” Paul said, a glint of triumph in his eye.
“Where the tankers’ hoses connect to the ground,” Morgan said.
“Exactly. You’ll need to pump as much fuel into the place as possible. Then just drop a match, or better yet a flare and
ka-pow
!”
Paul grabbed a candy bar from the assortment on the table. He seemed much more relaxed now, Karen feeling the man’s excitement. He truly wanted to be free, to be with his daughter.
“We’re going to need some time to formulate a new plan,” Morgan said. “Having the fuel schedule is paramount, but abducting another Murphy employee, a guard no less, will surely draw suspicion and put the Unit on high alert.”
Paul held up a finger as he finished chewing. “I think I can assist with that, too.”
“And how’s that?” Karen asked.
“By letting you know where and when the guards will be during their one night off of the week—the only time they leave the compound.”
Very interested, Karen looked at Morgan who took up a seat at the table.
“Well then,” Karen said. “Go on.” And Paul did, telling them where the soldiers would be and when. Together, the three of them hatched a plan to acquire the fuel schedule—the next step in taking down The Murphy Unit.
Chapter 43
They decided that Paul would work and perform his tasks as usual. When the time came to blow the place up, he would simply call in sick that day. Seemed easy enough.
Paul only had two call-ins, or sick days, during the five years he worked for The Murphy Unit. The first had been a case of the flu—which he couldn’t believe the company hadn’t eradicated—and the second a stomach bug. The important thing was that no one from the company checked on him. So when the time came to call-in, he would be in the clear.
Karen was glad to have Paul aboard. He seemed genuine, likeable. Even without probing him, she knew he was a nice person. But having done so, she knew he was fully onboard and would prove to be a valuable asset.
A week after joining forces at the warehouse, Karen and Morgan headed back there to meet with Paul. He hoped to help her fully develop and control her abilities.
“Hello, Karen, Morgan,” Paul said upon entering the warehouse.
“Park around back?” Morgan asked. “Behind the wall of garbage?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“How has work been? Anything unusual?”
Paul took a chair and sat. From his satchel he pulled out a bag, dumping its contents onto the table—a variety of candy bars, ten.
“Yes,” he said. “Everything’s fine. I think I’m a natural at the whole espionage thing.”
“Sugar junkie?” Karen asked.
“Oh, no. These are for you. I figured we’ll be practicing a lot and you’ll need them.”
“Very thoughtful of you, Paul. Thanks.”
“You’re going to need them with what we’ll be doing.”
Karen remembered the diner, telling the story of how desperately she craved a sugary drink following her last experiment in thought control.
“Like anything else,” Paul continued, “the more you work on your abilities, the stronger you’ll be and the less energy you’ll require. But it’s always a good idea to be prepared.”
During the next few days, Karen and Paul worked together on her abilities, Paul acting as the guinea pig. It was tough and draining, but he was a good sport and thrilled to be of service. He understood the need for Karen to have her abilities under control and ready to use. Even Morgan allowed Karen into his head, but only on occasion. As Karen’s training progressed, it became harder and harder for Morgan to feel her presence. He was happy for her, but not exactly pleased, warning her to keep out of his head unless authorized.
Karen’s brain, Paul informed her during one of their much needed breaks, had undergone a physical and chemical change, hence the headaches during the beginning infection. The alien contagion, known as AS-1, was responsible for enhancing her brain’s abilities to those of the alien’s. In particular, the temporal lobe in conjunction with the Dorsolateral Prefrontal area of the brain, were now connected directly with each other, working as one.
“Those areas of your brain have re-wired themselves and grown in size,” he told her. “The new parts of your brain are extremely complicated, and we still haven’t figured out what is what exactly, based upon the data from our previous test subjects. There is so much to study, but this is the hypothesis that we have come up with based on the data we have and the autopsy results.”
“Autopsy?” Karen parroted. Then she remembered Josh telling her about the man who had come before him, Roger. So that made her the third person infected, and the only one still alive.
“Also we found that the Lateral Orbitalfrontal area of the brain was altered as well, becoming smaller.”
“And that does what?”
“Controls the emotional response to situations, events and whatnot.”
“Emotional…” Karen began, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Karen?” Paul asked.
She went on, telling Paul about her
want
to punish, to make suffer, the agent that had hurt Morgan; and how she was unable to stop herself because she enjoyed hurting him.
“That seems to be one of the normal emotions that occurs when a subject infected with the alien serum is confronted with objects or persons of great dislike. We don’t understand why this happens, but we assume the alien race is so far advanced that they have somehow progressed to a state of equilibrium or emotionlessness, using logic as their key motivator. For some reason, the alien contagion has altered the Lateral Orbitalfrontal area, shrinking it, causing impulse control to go haywire. With practice, you should be able to control it better.”
“You mean I won’t be able to control myself when I’m hurting someone?”
“Of course you will, but it will take mental reasoning to override your immediate and primitive thinking.”
At least Karen understood why she enjoyed hurting the man, and hadn’t in fact become evil.
Karen and Paul spent the next few days working on anger control, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t bring herself to dislike Paul or Morgan. That lesson would have to be learned in the field.
All in all, Paul was impressed by how much she was able to attain. Mind-reading and Fear-Letting, as she called it, were almost second nature now.
On the Wednesday, Paul revealed another aspect of Karen’s abilities, one that Josh hadn’t fully grasped before his demise.
“I can make people do things against their will?”
Paul held up a finger. “Not exactly,” he said. “You possess the ability to suggest. Depending on the person’s psyche, you have within you the ability to plant an idea in someone’s head. You might suggest that a person is thirsty and needs a drink or go as far as to kill another person.”
Karen’s stomach tied itself into knots. The sour basement air grew nauseating. “I need a minute,” she said, pushing back from the table. Paul asked if she was okay. “I’ll be fine.”
Karen walked outside, needing fresh air. Morgan materialized beside her.
“You okay?” he asked.
She confessed what Paul told her.
“Look, nothing’s changed. If anything, you’re even stronger and more dangerous to the enemy now. That’s a good thing for us. I say look at it as a plus. More ammo for the good guys.”
Morgan was right. Maybe she just needed to cry, let out some of the dark emotion bottled up inside. And since meeting Paul, she’d grown aware that the man hadn’t touched her, not even a pat on the shoulder. Was he afraid of her? She was beginning to understand what a person with an incurable and contagious disease must feel like.
“I have to know how contagious I am.” She marched back into the warehouse. Morgan kept pace.
“What’s wrong?” Paul asked.
“How contagious am I?”
Paul broke eye contact.
“Tell it to me straight.”
“Tears, blood, saliva. They all spread the contagion. Basically all bodily secretions except sweat and urine transmit AS-1.”
Karen slumped into the chair. “I’ll never be close to anyone again.”
Morgan placed a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Karen,” Paul said, looking down at his hands.
Karen absorbed the information. “Right now, the only thing I want to do is destroy The Murphy Unit.”
“Why don’t we head home,” Morgan said, standing behind Karen. “You look like you could use some rest.”
She turned toward him. “There’s no time. I want to continue.”
“You got it,” he said.
Chapter 44
Over the next four days, Karen and Paul worked together on refining her abilities.
Multiple mind-reading was like listening to a room full of people and tuning in and out of various conversations, both near and afar.
Suggestion proved far more difficult and taxing than anything else Karen had attempted to date, but by Day Four of her training it was almost second nature and required less willpower than when they’d started.
Against Morgan’s wishes, Karen and Paul went to the diner, using the multitude of patrons as test subjects for both suggestion and multiple mind-reading practices. Karen got a number of people to order things that she’d found in their brains by pulling memories to the forefront of their mind the same way she performed fear-letting.