Prisoner of the Mind (Project Archon Book 1) Page 3

  --Memoirs of Shaden Mira

  The true achievement of Project Archon is that I have documented every step, every process. We have met each obstacle and overcome them. In the process, I have gained a better understanding of the potential to unlock in the minds of every psychic… at a cost at once both horrible and necessary. How can we have progress without sacrifice?

  --Dr. Jonathan Halving, Project Archon Notes.

  Shaden came awake in some kind of hospital bed.

  He stared up at flat white ceiling tiles and listened to the drone of the ceiling lights. His body felt weak. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and his eyes felt grimy. He searched his memory for a time he’d felt this bad, but nothing came to mind.

  “Welcome, Mr. Kirroy, glad to see you’ve regained consciousness,” A deep voice said.

  Shaden turned his head, barely able to flop it over to see the speaker. A large man stood near the doorway. The white lab coat seemed stretched over his heavy frame.

  “What…” Shaden had to clear his throat. Why was he so weak? If this were a hospital, shouldn’t they take better care of him than this? “What’s happened? Why am I here?” The sound of his own voice startled him, did he really sound that pathetic, that weak?

  The large man smiled. It looked painful to Shaden, to judge by the slight shift in the huge man’s face. “There was an accident. I’m Doctor Alder, your physician.”

  “Can I have some water?” Shaden asked.

  “Yes.” The Doctor looked around, “I’ll have to get you one. Don’t leave the bed.” The Doctor stepped out the door with a backwards glance, as if afraid Shaden would leap out of bed immediately.

  Shaden didn’t know if he could even manage to fall out of the bed in his current state.

  The doctor returned a few minutes later with a water bottle. A skinny, bald, Asian man followed him. As the doctor gave Shaden the bottle, the other man pulled out a small kit of some kind of computer gear from a briefcase. “This is Doctor Sheng. He’s going to check for any kind of brain damage from your accident.”

  Shaden swished the cool water around his mouth. It felt heavenly. “What happened to me? Was it a car crash or something?”

  The two doctors looked at each other, “Yes,” Doctor Sheng said. “Do you remember anything?”

  Shaden frowned. He felt goosebumps rise on his arms. “There was a dream… or a nightmare. A… horse?”

  “Yes, there was a bad batch of medication that caused you some nightmares. Anything before that?” Doctor Sheng asked.

  The room seemed to darken and Shaden shivered, “Pain. A lot of pain. A… a voice. Another doctor? Giving directions… giving instructions?” Shaden could still hear that icy, impersonal voice, though he couldn’t remember the words. He still felt an echo of that pain in the memory, as if he picked at a new scab or flexed a torn muscle.

  “Yes, a difficult surgery. The anesthesia didn’t work properly.”

  “Oh.” Shaden said. The explanation felt inadequate. Shaden didn’t have the energy to pursue the discussion. He felt… lethargic.

  “Let me attach these monitors…” Doctor Sheng placed a pair of bio-sensors at Shaden’s temples. Doctor Alder adjusted the controls on Shaden’s bed to lift Shaden into a seated position. “Alright, we’ll start with a basic analysis.” Sheng smiled at Shaden, and then seated himself in a chair. The other Doctor moved to stand to the side. His posture seemed almost as if he were ready for a fight. It disturbed Shaden in a way he couldn’t describe.

  “Alright then,” Doctor Sheng said, his voice pleasant. “I’ll prompt you with a word. I want you to say the first word that comes to mind, no matter what it is, and no matter how silly it seems, understood?”

  Shaden nodded weakly, “Yes.”

  “Good,” The doctor pressed a button on one of his devices, “Alright then… conflict?”

  Shaden blinked, he answered slowly, but with the first word that came to mind. “War.”

  “Hero?”

  “Soldier,” Shaden said more confidently.

  The doctor worked his way through several dozen more words. Shaden felt more and more tired. He had to fight nodding off when Doctor Sheng worked his way to the last words. “Colonial?”

  Shaden yawned, “Terrorist.” He frowned, then. He felt… uncomfortable at his own instant prejudice, but the Doctor didn’t seem to mind. Shaden knew that the Colonials had resorted to violence often enough the label fit. It just unsettled him to find that he so quickly judged someone an enemy.

  “Father?”

  “Amalgamated Worlds,” Shaden answered immediately. The statement seemed so right that it pushed his earlier doubts out of his mind. The government provided for him and cared for him. They made him the man he was. He didn’t think anything of the sudden smile on Doctor Sheng’s face.

  “Mother?”

  Shaden’s mind went blank. He stared at Doctor Sheng for a long, mute, moment. Shaden shrugged uncomfortably, “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?” Doctor Sheng’s smile disappeared. He frowned, and looked down at his instruments for a moment. “Well, that’s… odd.”

  “Odd?” Shaden asked. “Is there something wrong with me?”

  “Oh, no, you seem to be just the way you should be,” Doctor Sheng said. “Just a slight anomaly, nothing serious. You should be grateful for the excellent care you have received on the military’s dime.”

  Shaden nodded weakly, “I am. They’ve taken excellent care of me,” he answered without thinking. A moment later, his own words bothered him slightly, but he wasn’t sure why. Briefly, he had another memory of his previous pain.

  The moment passed.

  “Well, we’ll let you get some rest.”

  Shaden didn’t even nod. He just closed his eyes. A moment later, he slept.

  ***

  “Well?” Halving asked.

  Doctor Sheng shrugged, “His mental evaluation is conclusive. All signs point to success in the mental programming.” He took the only visitor’s seat in the ESPSec Colonel’s office. That left Jonathan Halving to stand.

  The pointed insult had not gone unnoticed.

  “What about the last one? He didn’t have an answer,” Halving said. He didn’t like the little head-shrink. The man had no psychic abilities. He couldn’t see inside the head of his patients, not like Jonathan Halving or one of his people. That meant, to Halving, that the doctor didn’t have the perspective to make definitive conclusions. Worse, he relied too much on unproven machinery and theories and his “experiments” seemed mostly based upon psychological torture.

  Unfortunately, Halving didn’t have a psychoanalyst available from his team. A couple of his people could do the job, but they didn’t have the right credentials. The ESPSec watchdogs would never allow most psychics with the right skill set anywhere near the project. They barely tolerated Halving's abilities and their restrictions kept some of his people severely hampered.

  “No answer is not the same as a flawed answer,” the doctor said. “I’ve done plenty of mental programming. There are always slight gaps. The subject doesn’t identify something outside desired parameters as his mother… he simply doesn’t identify anything with the word. You have created a man to whom Amalgamated Worlds is his only family.” The doctor spoke more towards Colonel Givens than Halving. Obviously, he knew who had the final say. That irritated Jonathan Halving quite a bit.

  “So you guarantee that he is fully programmed?” Colonel Givens asked.

  “Of course,” Doctor Sheng said. His confidence grated on Halving’s nerves. Doctor Sheng’s earlier credentials were that his mind-restructuring machinery had seen use on convicted prisoners as a means of rehabilitation. He had done target erasure of his patient’s memories, in an attempt to erase the impulses which drove them to commit their crimes.

  In every case he had seen some measure of failure. Either he had erased too much and so left them as either mindless vegetables or left them with such profound gaps in their memories tha
t they couldn’t function… or in some cases he merely erased memory of the crimes they committed and didn’t manage to prevent them from returning to a life of crime.

  “Colonel,” Jonathan Halving said, “I don’t believe this doctor is qualified to make this decision. He can’t see the subject’s thoughts. He cannot directly work with the subject’s mind; only through his tools and instruments does he gain even a modicum of control over the subject.” He had always disagreed with the decision to erase all of the subjects’ memories and replace them with artifacts of Sheng’s creation. “Furthermore, my people have seen subconscious trends in both subject's programming which might indicate the mental conditioning hasn't been fully effective.”

  “Doctor Halving, do you disagree with Doctor Sheng’s pronouncement that the subject’s mental programming is a success?” Colonel Givens asked.

  Halving frowned. He sensed discomfort in the subject’s mind. It could simply be a result of the trauma of the treatments… or it could be a sign of significant problems. Either he stuck his neck out now, possibly with fatal consequences... or he let Doctor Sheng take the blame if anything went wrong later on.

  A dozen ideas ran through his head, a number of possible plans to take a most satisfying revenge on the psychologist. He shook his head, and fought back a smile at the thoughts of that happy occasion. “No, nothing that shows the Doctor to be wrong. I just think his pronouncement… premature.”

  “Your statement is noted,” Colonel Givens said. “However, Doctor Sheng has the deciding authority. Therefore, you will move the male subject to the next stage of testing. I understand you have several procedures lined up?”

  Halving nodded, “Yes. As soon as Doctor Sheng will certify the female, we’ll proceed with her as well. In the meantime, I’ve got some chemical concoctions to try.”

  Colonel Givens nodded. “Try to limit the damage to facilities this time.” She adjusted the papers on her desk. “You may leave.”

  Jonathan Halving bowed slightly. He would not forget the slight… on either of their parts.

  ***

  “Good morning, Mr. Kirroy,” A tall, handsome man stepped into Shaden’s room. “I’m Doctor Jonathan Halving.” He extended his hand and Shaden shook it as well as he could manage.

  “You’re the one who saved me?” Shaden asked.

  The doctor smiled, “In a manner of speaking, yes.” He cocked his head, and something about his expression gave Shaden an uncomfortable feeling. It was almost as if the doctor studied him like some sort of experiment. The look felt somehow familiar and stirred echoes of remembered pain.

  “How much do you remember about the accident?” Halving asked.

  Shaden shook his head, “Not much. Just flashes of pain. It seem like I have had to do a lot of testing.” That bothered him and he worried that they thought something was wrong with him. Whatever it is, he thought, please just tell me.

  “Well, the reason there have been so many studies, Mr Kirroy, is that what happened was not really an accident,” Halving said.

  “What?” Shaden asked, suddenly confused.

  “You had a psychic episode,” Doctor Halving said quite calmly.

  “A psychotic episode?” Shaden said. He hoped he’d simply misheard.

  “No, you had a manifestation of psychokinetic, or PK abilities,” Halving said. “What we call macro PK. You reached out with your mind and pushed, with a great deal of force.” He said the words gently, yet with calm confidence. His dark eyes brokered no argument.

  “Oh, God.” Shaden sat speechless for a long moment. When he finally found the strength to speak, he asked the first question that came to mind, “Was anyone hurt?”

  Halving didn’t answer for a long moment, but his cold eyes bored into Shaden. “Four men were killed. Three more seriously injured.” Shaden cringed and he felt like a weight had settled on his chest. “Normally, you know what would happen to you, right?” Doctor Halving waited expectantly.

  Shaden nodded slowly, “I’d be arrested by ESPSec and processed to a containment facility, right?” It only seems right, he thought, if I’m that dangerous. He wondered if he could apologize to the families of the people he’d hurt and killed. Not to explain myself, he thought, just to tell them I’m sorry.

  “Well, due to your military record and your prior service to Amalgamated Worlds, ESPSec has decided to offer you a special privilege.” Halving’s voice was warm, but something about his intent expression chilled Shaden in a way he couldn’t describe. “I run a very special facility, one where we can train you to use your abilities. If you attend that training, you will then be able to use your powers to hunt down rogue psychics and terrorists.”

  Shaden gulped, it felt like a lot of responsibility, “You think I can manage to get my powers under control? I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone else on accident.”

  Halving smiled broadly, “We’ll make sure that you are fully under control before you leave the facility. My team is very good at what we do. We have a number of psychics on staff who will be able to keep you in check should anything happen.”

  Shaden nodded, he felt a surge of relief that he would pose no danger to an innocent bystander. He frowned as he took the time to consider the full implications. The idea that he was a psychic and the certain knowledge that he’d killed innocent people with those powers roiled his stomach. He felt suddenly ill.

  Halving obviously misinterpreted his expression, “Of course, if you choose not to take this opportunity, they will transport you to a containment facility and then down to the San Antonio containment camps.”

  Shaden shook his head, “No. If I’m needed, I won’t hesitate to offer what I have. It’s just all so sudden. I… could I write a letter or something to the families…”

  Halving frowned in confusion, “The families?”

  Shaden looked away, “I want to apologize to those I hurt, and to the families of those I killed, if that’s possible.”

  “Oh,” Halving said. He seemed startled. “I think that could be arranged. I take it you agree to stay here at the facility for further treatment and then for training?”

  “Of course,” Shaden said. The words seemed to come on their own, “As long as Amalgamated Worlds needs me, I'm theirs. I owe them everything.”

  ***

  “And what exactly did you intend to do if he turned down the opportunity to serve?” Colonel Givens asked Jonathan Halving as he stepped out of the room. He’d sensed her presence in the observation room, so her question came as no surprise. After the first time she had caught him off guard, he had made certain not to let her do it again.

  “According to your psychologist, he would have no choice but to jump at the opportunity to serve Amalgamated Worlds,” Halving responded and continued on his walk down the hallway. He would do a similar brief with the female subject in a few minutes.

  “And what if my psychologist was wrong?” Colonel Givens asked tightly. Clearly she didn’t like having to ask that question.

  Halving gave her a smirk, over his shoulder, “Well, in that highly unlikely case, I’d probably just wipe his memory and do it again, with more of the stick and less of the carrot.”

  “Why even give him the choice?” Givens grunted. “If the programming held, he would be loyal and follow orders.”

  Halving chuckled, “The appearance of free will is a marvelous tool for people like you and I, Colonel.” He waved a hand at the facility, “Most of my ‘Gifted’ personnel have no real choice but to do the work they do. My means of recruitment gives them the perception that they chose the winning side… and that reinforces their loyalties to me.” He looked at her and saw some measure of confusion on her face. Ah, he thought, she really is the type of person who gives an order and expects it to be followed by her inferiors. It never ceased to amaze him how out of touch most of the higher levels of Amalgamated Worlds had become, especially over the past decade. They could be so shrewd in their manipulations, yet they assumed without question that the
ir orders would be followed. Sooner or later that would come back to bite them and Jonathan Halving hoped he would be there to watch it. On the right side, he added mentally, of course.

  Still, it didn’t hurt to explain. Although he figured that the lesson would be lost on her anyway. Colonel Givens understood the stick well enough, but she didn’t seem to care much to use carrots. “ESPSec just implants a bomb in their skulls. They have their choice of a messy death or doing what they’re told,” Halving said. He shrugged, “There’s a reason most of your ‘tame’ psychics have a short shelf life.”

  “This research might trim down on that requirement,” Colonel Givens responded. “Though you’ve taken a similar precaution with our two subjects, as I understand it.”

  Halving gave a sour grimace, “Yes, this will be a little easier on the carpets, but just as effective if either subject gets totally out of hand.” He really didn’t want to use such techniques. Even as failures, he would at least see some use of his subjects. If nothing else, some of his followers had very particular tastes that he could indulge and so gain some moderate level of loyalty.

  “Please see to it that you aren’t forced to use your safeguards,” Colonel Givens smiled. “Don’t forget, you may not have a bomb in your skull, but we all have our little precautions, don’t we Doctor Halving?”

  She left before he could come up with an appropriate response.

  ***

  Chapter 4

  I may never know how many times they wiped my memories and started over. Two or more for certain, possibly dozens. What they got as a result was a blank canvas for their work. A child’s mind… onto which they imprinted tactics, military doctrine, loyalty to my masters, and hatred for all things that threatened Amalgamated Worlds. Imagine, then, a child’s mind without laughter, without playgrounds and parks, with only the impression of a weapon with which to live by.