Chapter 3

In 2014, a consortium of researchers from Spain, France, and the Harvard Medical School released the results of an experiment in direct brain-to-brain communication. Utilizing the concept of the synaptic transmission of chemical signals across the neural pathways in the human brain, the researchers were able to facilitate nonverbal communication between a person monitored with EEG sensors in India and three people connected to transcranial magnetic stimulation headgear in France. The message was a simple greeting, conveyed through a coded message of light impulses. The people involved in the transcontinental experiment could not see each other, and did not speak or type. A prior experiment conducted by researchers at the University of Washington involved the recipient’s motor cortex being subconsciously stimulated to press a key on a keyboard. A kind of primitive telepathy had been demonstrated to be possible.

The scholarly examination of psychic phenomenon began in earnest with the formation of the Society for Psychical Research in London in 1881 and the formation of the American Society for Psychical Research in New York City in 1884. Research was proposed and conducted regarding such phenomena as telekinesis, psychic mediums, clairvoyance, dowsing, and telepathy. True believers were problematic researchers. Methodologies were controversial. Results were elusive. Members came and went. Critics were numerous, vocal, and dismissive. Psychic phenomena were generally ridiculed by scientists and skeptics, dismissed as wishful thinking, and attributed to unconscious ideomotor processes, random chance, or outright fraud.

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My meeting with The Counselor was surprisingly exhausting and disorienting. I felt like I had a hangover for the rest of that day, and didn’t sleep well last night. Now that I know telepathy is real, I have a million questions. Were any of those psychics on Earth legit? Could that be possible? Is telepathy something I can learn to do? How does it work, really? Is there something like a radio transmitter or receiver in my head? Is there one in everyone’s head? Maybe some of that new age mumbo jumbo wasn’t complete bullshit. Maybe some people really could do this kind of thing. Were humans really all members of one species, or had we split into separate subgroups at some point in our history and we just didn’t understand it yet?

God, do I wish I had someone to talk to! I miss my girlfriend, Donna. Where are you now? What are you doing? What do you think happened to me? I’ve been gone for weeks by now, at least. Maybe months. I wish you were here with me. I owe you about a dozen apologies. All the stuff we argued about seems so small now. Insignificant. I care about you more than anyone else I know. I know you care about me. I know you. I know your heart. I know how much you care about all kinds of people, how you melt when you see dogs and cats and rabbits and just about every kind of baby animal you’ve ever seen. You’re a genuine good person, and you deserved better than me. I should have been better.

I tried. I really did! But I got caught up in trying to make my career take off. I thought I was going to be someone bigger, more important. I thought if I just kept pushing, I’d hit the big time, and the dough would come pouring in, and then I’d be happy. Then I could give you all the things I thought you wanted. But you didn’t really want those things all that much. You wanted my attention. You wanted my time. And I didn’t really give it to you. Not all of it anyway. I was distracted a lot. You could tell. You tried to make allowances, and be patient with me - I just couldn’t see that. I recognize it now. And it’s too late. I’m sorry, Donna.

I wish I had a way of showing that to you. I’d let you into my head so you could see what was real. The real me, warts and all. Not just the me I was pretending to be most of the time, or the me I was hoping I would become some day. And I want to see the real you. Every thought. Every feeling. I’m so very sorry we never got close to that. We were only ever in sync for a few moments here and an hour or two there. It’s not enough. I get that now. Damn it!

What did The Counselor mean about The Pranksters being our gods? How could that even be possible? They’ve been watching us for thousands of years? Really?! And they’ve been messing with us the whole time?! If that’s true, then these guys sound like total assholes. What is their game, anyway? What was the point? I mean, The Counselor seemed sincere. Not that I would know the difference, I guess.

I know how a spot a bullshitter. It was a job requirement for me, a skill I developed. Actors are professional liars, but not all of them are good at it, or consistent. I know how to tell bad from good, and good from great. Great liars are few and far between. Great liars break your heart. Great liars make you believe absurd things, ridiculous things. Great liars are kind of awe-inspiring actually. It’s hypnotic.

Wait, maybe that’s it! Maybe The Counselor is just a phenomenal liar. Sure, I didn’t notice anything that qualified as a tell, but I’ve never met one before and the whole telepathy thing was disorienting. I was off my game. Just because I could hear The Counselor in my head, why should I believe he/she/it was telling me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Maybe The Counselor is the best actor, liar, con man I’ve ever encountered. A cross between Meryl Streep and Daniel Day-Lewis with a side of audacious scam artist. How would I know? I’ve got no frame of reference here. My gut says The Counselor was legit, though. My gut is usually right.

I want to talk to these Prankster jerks. Why did they grab me? It can’t be something as trivial as Hollywood gossip, can it? The Counselor suggested The Pranksters were fond of something I worked on a few years ago, but that doesn’t really make sense. Why not grab the director, or one of the stars? Grab the writers, or the editor! I was just the first assistant. I handled the input and output stuff. I did the organizational grunt work. I cut a couple of minor scenes, picked a couple songs, and designed a couple of sound effects that weren’t even supposed to make the final mix. What could they possibly want with me?

Maybe the question I should really be asking is what happened after they grabbed me. Why am I not wherever they are? How did I wind up with the gorilla-pigs and The Counselor? A million questions, and barely any answers. I don’t even know The Counselor isn’t actually one of The Pranksters, to be honest. This whole story could be a prank, couldn’t it?

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Next Chapter: What Came Before And Why?