does.”
“Maybe they’re just from the old school,” I offered.
“I don’t think so,” he replied. “The most interesting part is the blurb on ‘security solutions’-it’s buried three pages deep in the ‘Products’ section. ‘Innovative security solutions that go far beyond intelligence gathering, threat scenarios and routine digital imaging. L Corp has a track record of identifying impending threats to both physical and information assets and responding before they can become active.’”
“Sounds impressive. What’s it mean?”
“It’s jargon for ‘We figure out what’s going to happen and stop it before it does.’”
“Mmm. Mindbenders would be good at that.”
“That occurred to me,” he said coolly. He stood up. “Do me a favor, would you? I’m getting a headache trying to find an address for the security headquarters. You think you can find it?”
“I’ll do better after breakfast.”
“There’s English muffins and eggs on the table-I just finished mine.” He arched an eyebrow again. “Eat quickly.”
“Why?”
“We’re being probed again and much closer than last night. I just sent them on a wild goose chase. So I think we have about two hours grace.”
“I’ll be ready in ten minutes,” I told him.
“Good. But I have something to do that’ll take fifteen, maybe twenty.”
“What?”
“Visiting L Corp headquarters.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know. That’s why I want you to get me the address.”
“What if it’s a thousand miles from here?” I asked. This made no sense, though that no longer threw me in Max’s company. “How’re you going to get there in fifteen minutes?”
“You just get me the address-actually longitude and latitude would be better. Let me worry about getting there.”
“-and back.”
“And back,” he said, attempting to reassure me, which he wasn’t much good at.
He proceeded to the center of the room, sat cross-legged on the floor and began his Ommm thing again. I wandered into the kitchen, put together my muffin and eggs and started searching the web site. Nothing came easy-eventually, I drilled down below ‘Join Us’ to where five security jobs hid beneath ‘subcontractor tasking’. All five were based in Herndon, Virginia though I couldn’t find any company telephone listing there.
“All I can get you is the town,” I told him and he held a hand up for a moment, to shush me long enough for his coma to pass.
“I’ll make do,” he said. “Just write the coordinates on a piece of paper. I’ll be gone for maybe fifteen, twenty minutes, tops. My body will be here but I won’t. If the house burns down or the IRS shows up to confiscate the place, I’ll be dead weight unless you wake me. If you have to kick or punch me a bit, that’s okay-just make sure it’s necessary, okay?”
“Whoah,” I said. “Replay that one for me. The body’ll be here but you won’t?”
“It’s called remote viewing. I’ll be at L Corp, hovering and eavesdropping, just getting the lay of the land.”
“Isn’t it dangerous to float around without a body? Can they see you?”
“They’d have to know how and they’d have to be looking for me. They’re not the KGB,” he said roughly. “Contractors talk big but their own security stinks, generally. They get complacent. I don’t know if they have anything we want but Fine works there so it seems like the next move.”
“Without a body, can you see through walls? Read the files in the vault?” It was weird even asking the question but, following everything else I’d seen, this was just another step.
“If the VP has something interesting on his desk,” he said, “I can read the top page-as long as it’s not numbers. If I want to see more, I have to convince him to turn the page. Which, strangely enough, isn’t so easy when my body’s at a distance.”
“And I’ll be able to wake you up if there’s trouble? You’re sure?”
“I don’t see why not.” This didn’t sound real conclusive.
“Has anyone tried it? Lately?”
“You’ll be fine.”
“What if they probe again? While you’re away, are you still blocking me?”
“No, I can’t. I won’t be here. Just pretend you’re someplace you were last week or last month.” He glanced at the ceiling: I could see him trying to figure out how to explain this next thought. “Consciousness is time-specific,” he told me.
“In English, please.”
“One time the Americans had a mindbender agent locked in a dark room in Maryland. His job was to describe a site he’d never seen or heard of in California. The Agency was sending a team to the location, who also had never been there-his job was to read their minds and describe what they saw. As soon as he was given the task, he performed it, including a description of a specific routine the camp personnel performed for the team’s visit.”
“Wow,” I said, not sure what this had to do with blocking. Or time-specific consciousness. Or anything else, for that matter.
“Oh, that’s not the interesting part,” Max said. “What’s interesting is that the California team got held up by bad weather. They didn’t arrive until three hours after the agent finished describing their visit.”
“Huh?” I tried to wrap my head around this but ‘huh?’ was all I got.
“All time exists at once-Einstein predicted this. So the agent locked onto the people he was supposed to track and read their impressions of the site. It’s just that they hadn’t been there yet. And the things they saw-that he reported-hadn’t happened yet.” He laughed at the expression on my face. “Tauber could’ve told you all about this-they sent him back once to meet Jesus.” At this point, he wisely gave up trying to explain. “Okay, here’s what you need to know: if you put yourself in any other place or time-back with that girl in the car last night, or in Iraq again; something so vivid you’re not just remembering but really there, these guys’ll never be able to read you, probe you, anything. They’re looking for someone who’s here, now. And you won’t be.” He stared at me for a while, waiting.
“I’ll never figure out how to do that,” I said finally.
“But you already have, Gregor,” he laughed. “That’s how you spent half your time in Florida.” I hated being called Gregor. He settled into his crouch again, humming to stir the rafters.
There were still eggs left in the kitchen. I threw another muffin in the toaster and wandered around. I wanted cereal. There were Corn Flakes in the cupboard but no milk in the fridge. We had a guy at Dave’s who ate cereal with orange juice, but he wasn’t someone I wanted to be like. We had guys who blinked uncontrollably or freaked out at loud noises or picked their skin raw. If sanity was a matter of degree, eggs and a muffin were better than cereal and orange juice, as far as I was concerned.
That’s what I was thinking when I looked out the window and saw the vans coming hard up the driveway.
“Max! Come on, Max! Time to wake up Max! Now! Now! Max, no time for sleeping. Back to the world now! Shit! Shit shit shit shit shit!!!” He was in full trance mode, of course. I pummeled his shoulders and kicked him in the back and the butt and anyplace else I could kick him without breaking anything but he wasn’t stirring. Pulling and shaking-same result. The vans were screeching to a halt now and I could hear footsteps all around the house. I left him long enough to push a kitchen cabinet up against that door-happily, it was just a few inches. I saw dark- blue jumpsuits swarming outside the windows. Happily, the windows were where the house overhung the cliff so they couldn’t reach them to get in-yet. The front of the house-the part that faced the horse runs-had a hundred little cubby-hole windows but no big plate glass you could shatter and walk through-apparently, the owners liked their privacy. But this didn’t buy me much time-they were already smashing against the door and it was making buckling noises. I had a choice: surrender out front or dive over the cliff-suddenly this didn’t seem like such a great hideout.
And then I heard a commanding voice-deep, foreign accent, powerful, someone used to being listened to-
