Owens sat on the makeup bench and slipped the small gray rock from his pocket. His thumb was lightly callused from rubbing it regularly, a meditative habit he started several years ago after the rock was given to him. His actions during the process with Skyles were so routine — including rubbing the rock while he waited the ten minutes it took for him to absorb and respond the ELFs — that he almost forgot Kayla was in the room. Owens turned to see a bewildered look on her face as she stood near the wall, staring at Skyles and the attaché.
“Quite a profound situation we’re dealing with,” Owens said softly. He tried to offer Kayla a reassuring smile. “I was a little overwhelmed when I first learned about the technology and plans to use it. What’s really gut churning are the secrets we protect with this technology. That’s why I’ve eased you into this operation.”
Owens returned his focus to Skyles. Kayla would have to wait. He had hoped that time at home would reveal the source of Skyles’ problems, but now there was no choice but to bring him in for treatment. To do that, Owens had to stabilize Skyles’ mental state.
Each subject in the mind control program had a unique hypnotic suggestion, or password, that served as the final security measure before reaching the controlled state. The hypnotic suggestion had no effect in a conscious state, but when combined with the other elements, it acted like a deadbolt on the door to their operational state. “Listen to me, Ben,” Owens said, “Sidereus Nuncius.”
Slowly, Skyles opened his eyes and straightened his posture. He seemed dazed momentarily, then snapped to life in a new and happier state of consciousness. “Copernicus,” he said to Owens, as if addressing a buddy by a codename.
Skyles panned his head around the room, becoming cognizant of his surroundings. “Are we at my house?”
“Is that a problem?”
“Who’s the lady?”
“My new partner.” Owens never took his eyes off Skyles, studying his every move and reaction. “What worries you about being at home?”
“Does she have a name?”
“Not a real one.”
For a few seconds, Skyles tried to avoid Owens’ stare, knowing his problems were no longer a secret. “Well, if you’re here, I guess you know.”
“Know what?”
“That your little mind control machine has some glitches.”
“You’re aware of the problems?”
“Damn right I’m aware. It’s my noggin you’re messing with.”
“You should’ve come to me. Do you realize the jeopardy you put the program in?”
“I’m not stupid. And I’m also not your guinea pig. You assured me this psychological equipment worked. ‘Fully operational,’” he added trying to mimic Owens’ raspy voice. “But it’s not. And rather than become a lab rat at spook central, I wanted to try and fix it myself. So I risked my clearances. If my mind is tossed, you’d pull them anyway.”
Owens focused hard into Skyles’ eyes.
“I get the willies when you look at me that way,” Skyles said.
“I doubt the problem is with the equipment,” Owens informed him. “You’re the only one having adverse reactions.”
“I’m the only one you know of.” Skyles tried pleading his innocence. “About a month back, memory flashes started popping up in my dreams. Then the middle of the day. A few weeks ago I started blacking out.”
Owens continued to listen and observe without saying much.
“Two nights ago I woke up at three thirty in the morning … ass naked on the tenth green at the country club,” Skyles continued. “My biggest worry at the time was my wife’s reaction to having our membership revoked. That’s messed up.”
Owens theorized that something, or someone, outside the operation had interfered with Skyles’ mind. “Do you know a man by the name of Desmond Wyatt?”
“No. Should I?”
“He lives in Los Angeles, but is a frequent visitor to the outskirts of our base.”
“Why would I know a kook like him?”
“He has an extensive knowledge about the facility. In fact, he gave someone hiking directions into Papoose Valley, including inside information about the perimeter security technology.”
Throwing his hands in the air, Skyles distanced himself from Owens’ words. “Hey, I don’t have that kind of info.”
“I know you don’t. But you’re connected to him. The woman you were with at the bar, she’s Chinese Intelligence. And she is the one we caught in Papoose, following Desmond’s directions. It could just be a coincidence that she knew both of you; she was making a lot of contacts. My concern is that whoever leaked the security info to Desmond Wyatt might have something to do with your mental condition.”
“Hey, I apologize for not coming forward when I knew there was a problem. I know I violated procedure, but I can’t afford my life outside the program.”
“You need to trust me,” Owens said.
“I’ll try, but you’ll put the program first.”
“It’s costly and time consuming to replace you. We’re going to take you someplace safe until we’ve worked the kinks out of your mind.”
“Can I say goodbye to my wife?”
“Not in this state. I’ll check in on her later and make sure she’s doing okay,” Owens reassured. He closed the attaché, but left the equipment on and the wires connected as they proceeded outside to the Suburban.
Two minutes after they left the bedroom, a voice-activated FM transmitter, hidden in an electrical outlet, shut itself off. Eight such devices were hidden throughout the house. Cheap mail order listening devices that anyone could purchase and install with a screwdriver. The results, however, were effective and transmitted every word spoken in the house to a recorder hidden outside.
CHAPTER 13
Professor Eldred had two grown kids and five grandchildren. His offspring were ideal kids: intelligent, sensible, hardworking, successful. All the qualities that made parents proud, and it was thanks, in part, to their upbringing. Yet the professor had learned late in life that the time he devoted to his children when they were kids was an investment; as adults, the time his son and daughter obligated to their father was commensurate to how they were raised.
Professor Eldred was a kind father, but he never devoted quality time to his children. A few hours a week would have made the difference between the strong family he had and the close family he didn’t. The professor had never questioned his child-rearing techniques until his wife passed and he realized that his kids were now strangers he saw at holidays. He knew less about his son than he did his star pupil, Blake Hunter. He would have liked for his kids to share his interests, but his passion for engineering had been stolen by the government before his children were born. His children learned his dedicated study and work habits, but developed tastes and careers in other areas. By the time the professor met Blake, his kids had already graduated college and were working in business and law. With them out of the house, he began to take a keener interest in his students, and developed a close bond with Blake through guidance in and out of the classroom.
Blake’s words were succinct when he first visited Professor Eldred’s office: “I came to school with the intentions of becoming a doctor, a choice I now realize was motivated by income potential and not personal tastes. I’ve considered business, but can’t muster any passion for the lifestyle. What I really want to do, the one thing that has intrigued me since childhood, is become an astronaut … and I thought you could probably help.”
The professor was never one to hide his passion for space. He always wondered what could have been. As he and Blake became acquainted, his wife often joked that her husband was more excited about Blake’s dream of becoming an astronaut than Blake himself. Together, the professor and Blake solidified Blake’s educational career to pursue an undergraduate degree in engineering, tailoring his studies to emphasize aeronautics and space travel. Traditionally, astronauts evolved from military backgrounds, but the expanding duties of mission and payload specialists on shuttle flights broadened the field of prospective recruits, and encouraged Blake’s dreams.