them.
Yes, the whole thing was crazy. What could possibly happen now, here under the lights and the intensely scrutinizing eyes of Patrick and Gee? And how could she put Sarah through this? She had told the girl that they were her friends, but what did she really know about this group, other than what Charlie had told her? They were certainly odd, but whether it went further than that, she couldn't tell.
She felt like a wrecking ball gathering speed and coming loose through its swing. This carelessness wasn't like her.
But there hadn't been time. And it was too late now.
'We're going to run a few tests, nothing serious, but I'm going to have a look at your brain waves, and we'll record your heartbeat and blood pressure and respiration. There's nothing that's going to hurt, and nothing to be afraid of, okay?' Patrick fiddled with the contacts that had been taped to Sarah's skull. He was very gentle with her, adjusting the cuff around her upper arm. 'Can I talk to you for a moment, please?' He gestured Jess out into the larger chamber and closed the door.
'This isn't going to work if you can't calm her down,' he said, when they were out of earshot. 'She can feel your nervousness. I can feel it. There's something on your mind. Let's get it out.'
'I was just wondering why, if this sort of psychic phenomena is as widespread and proven as you say, we all haven't heard about it.'
Patrick looked at her oddly for a moment. His lighter-colored eye seemed to bore into her, searching for her private heart. She felt uncomfortable and crossed her arms. 'You have, you just don't know it. Let me tell you something. In 1985 the Army Research Institute was commissioned by Congress to study aspects of psychic phenomena. In their subsequent report they said that the data they had reviewed constituted genuine scientific anomalies for which no one had an adequate explanation. There was no scientific answer to what they had seen. And yet nobody listened. The report was buried, along with four others that said the same thing. In 1989, Radin and Ferrari at Princeton used meta-analysis to evaluate 148 different die-casting experiments performed during the last fifty years. They eliminated all except the most scientific and rigid of the group. What was left still proved the existence of psi with the odds against chance of more than a trillion to one.
'The truth is, the Defense Department has been conducting secret parapsychological experiments for years. Psi isn't a belief anymore. It's a proven fact. The data is there.'
'So what are you telling me? There's some sort of conspiracy?'
'Absolutely.'
An intercom clicked into life. 'Come on,' Gee said loudly from inside the observation room. His round, scruffy face peered through the window in the door. 'Let's get the show on the road. I gotta get home and watch
Jess wondered for a moment how it might feel to get her hands around Gee's skinny little neck.
'Calm yourself,' Patrick said. 'We're coming.' To her, more gently, he said, 'We've got to get Sarah to relax, to enter a premeditative state more conducive to psi. She's too tense, there's something upsetting her. But you have her trust. We can't do it without you. What have you got to lose?'
Jess held her breath, let it out slowly. 'If she shows any signs of discomfort, seizure, anything at all, we stop. Immediately. All right?'
'You're the boss.'
***
She had to admit, even before they began the serious testing (if such things as die-casting and random number generators could be called serious), that there was a feeling of heavy expectation in the air. Sarah seemed to sense her change of mood, as soon as they rejoined the others. Now she tugged at Jess's hand, and whispered in her ear, 'I don't like it here.'
'Do you want to leave?'
'Do you?'
'Not just yet. Are you scared?'
'I don't like tests. I don't want anything bad to happen!'
'Then we'll just make sure it doesn't.'
'I had a dream last night,' Sarah said. 'I was in a big room and I was really mad. And I was hurting people.'
'Recording,' Gee said, bent close to a nearby glowing screen. A machine nearby started spitting out jagged lines on paper. 'I'm getting betas. She's ready to roll.'
'All right,' Patrick said. He was standing in front of a bank of electrical devices with quivering needles and gauges. 'Blood pressure slightly elevated, within normal parameters. Heartbeat coming down. Let go of her hand, Sarah, that's right, you can hold Connor. We won't bite you. I'm detecting slight magnetic or electrical field. Overheads, Gee.'
Gee turned a dimmer switch. The narrow room was transformed with a soothing wash of pink light.
'Can you tell me any more about your dream?'
'There were people coming after me and I was running, I was looking for my mother but I couldn't find her, and I hid in a big room and they were going to catch me. ... I was doing things. I couldn't stop.'
'I had a dream like that too. My brother was in it. But then I woke up and I realized it was just a dream. And dreams can't hurt you.'
'But I was so mad!'
'We all get angry sometimes. But anger is something you can control.'
'I don't like tests,' she said again. Her fingers clutched at Jess's wrist. 'No needles?'
'No, honey,' Jess said. 'I promise.'
Patrick had returned with a set of headphones to the chair where Sarah sat, and he picked up a pair of halved Ping-Pong balls and began to tape them carefully over her eyes. They had lined the tabletop with pillows in order to make her more comfortable, and now he helped her climb up on them and lie down. 'This is called the Ganzfeld approach,' he said, into the strange pink light. 'It's simply a way of allowing the mind to concentrate by reducing the amount of sensory stimuli. We'll turn on some music, and all I want you to do is relax, and try not to think about anything.'
To Jess, he said, 'I was thinking about the contents of that file. The people who put that together were aware that something unusual was going on with her. You don't take those kinds of tests, you don't record that kind of data without a reason. Gee, tweak the frequencies, will you? I'm getting some feedback.'
'It's not me,' Gee said. 'Everything peachy here. Sure it isn't coming from your head?'
'Very amusing,' Patrick said. 'Pay attention, please.' To Jess, he said, 'So what else is our good hospital director hiding from you? That would be my question. If I were asking the questions, I mean.'
'I guess it's lucky for him you're not.'
Patrick left the room briefly and touched a button on a CD player. They were surrounded by gentle piano and strings. 'Sarah, you're going to feel sleepy, you're going to feel like you're floating. I'm going to put these headphones on you to make that easier. Jess, why don't you take a seat? Gee, what are we reading?'
Chopin rolled and swelled within the basement chambers. Sarah lay on her back with her eyes closed, holding Connor while Patrick and Gee tended to the machines, conversed quietly, and took notes. Finally Jess pulled Patrick aside. 'This isn't working.'
'We're getting normal readings.'
'That's just what I mean. Whenever something happened, something unusual, Sarah was in an extremely agitated state. I don't think you're going to get anywhere by hypnotizing her.'
'So you want to piss her off?' Gee said, coming over. 'I could give it a shot.'
'We're going to start running her through a series of escalating steps. This is just to allow her to reach an alpha plateau. . . .'
'I dunno, though. She might melt my brain or something,' Gee was saying. 'Maybe I'll pass.'
'Hush,' Patrick said. 'Why don't you check her readings, Gee? You're the best at it.' When Gee had turned back to the bank of machines, and a second printer buzzed into life, he said softly, 'He knows this isn't a joke. It's just his way of blowing off steam.'
'I'm sure.'
