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Focus, look ahead, look even a short distance ahead.

Whatever this power was that could divert their visions and create such realistic alternatives, maybe it only existed in the present tense. True, time and space were anecdotally irrelevant in the experience of most remote viewers, as they could see the incredibly distant alongside the close, in both dimensions; but maybe this enemy could only work in the here and now. Or maybe it was far more selective, locking out only certain elements and superimposing false visions only when a certain vision was accessed — like trying to open a file in a database and triggering a security response.

Maybe I’ll get lucky, he thought.

He looked for her. For Diana…

The vision that came, forming quickly and without any of his usual sputters or mis-steps, wasn’t unexpected. A jail cell, with Diana huddled in the corner, wearing an orange jumpsuit. The sound of whimpers came from the mass of curly hair over her face, as she sat with her head down against her crossed arms. His mind’s camera retreated, pulling far back. All of a sudden the space became filled with six floors full of barred cells in some gloomy and yet modern facility. Tight security, patrolling past the tiny orange figures in each cell.

All those psychics. His friends…

Montross paused the film as if hitting a button on his internal remote. Studied the image closer. Looking…

There. If the brevity of the vision’s appearance hadn’t been enough to convince him, now he saw something more: a fuzzy, grainy texture to the edges. It was almost as if these were individual slides of film set in place over something. And they didn’t completely set over the originals so that the pixilation on the edges were muddled, jumbled just slightly…

He opened his eyes. Miriam was still talking, blathering about their superiority, how the world would change and remold itself according to their wishes. Good, keep yapping. He’d only been scrying a few seconds, and she hadn’t noticed.

Now it was time for something else. A different question to see if his theory was correct.

Show me…

He thought of an end-around, something inconspicuous. Like in a computer file system, something safe that wouldn’t draw any attention, and yet might give him what he needed.

Show me the NASA chief in charge of current mission control.

Miriam continued to talk, now pacing and going into a litany of what was about to happen to him and how he would be locked away for years until it would be far too late for him to do anything about it.

Montross had his eyes open still but it didn’t matter. Inside he was seeing what he needed to see. Not right away like with the false vision they had ready for him, but after the typical stuttering, blind lead, then…

He saw them. Two men in passable suits, one bald on top with ruffled grey hair around his ears and pointy framed eyeglasses, the other heavy and curly-haired with flushed cheeks. In some kind of room similar to the one he was in right now. The only difference was that his love, Diana Montgomery, sat in this seat, and instead of Miriam blabbering on, these men were saying…

4

Washington, D.C.

“They can’t keep you here, Diana. It’s preposterous.”

“We’re in charge, and we’ll get you out of this.”

Diana Montgomery heard her boss and the second officer in charge of her division at NASA talking, but she really wasn’t paying attention. Still trying to process what had happened, still in shock, she had been climbing the heights of euphoria after such a discovery and processing the data, reviewing the amazing evidence, when the armed men stormed in. Abducted her, confiscated the computers and notes and ushered her and the others into separate black SUVs outside.

She had only been in such danger once before in her life, hunted while investigating the mysteries of Kellogg’s cave in the Grand Canyon. Thought those days of adventure were behind me, she mused now as she finally pulled herself away from the past.

“Where’s Senator Calderon?” she demanded to know.

Her boss, the thinner of the two, but just as socially awkward, was Nevin Cargall. Although he was trying out here for the role of hero, and had brought along his faithful but even more useless sidekick Mark Dintello, they were out of their element here. She didn’t need to be psychic to know that much.

“He’s…”

“Tell her,” Mark said.

Nevin sighed, set a hand on her shoulder. “I know he means a lot to you…”

“And to us,” Mark said. “Huge benefactor. If it wasn’t for his grants and the budget bill last year we’d all be out of jobs or sitting on the sidelines twiddling our thumbs.”

“Stop. We know, but that’s why she’s in this mess.”

“They got him too?”

“Because of this psychic business. Conspiracy, compromising national security and a host of other pretty damn serious allegations.”

“For him, and the whole Stargate thing.”

“All your colleagues over there. Diana, we never knew…”

Fighting the sinking feeling that had just become a plummeting dive down a bottomless pit, Diana shook her head. “What are they saying about me? I’m not even psychic.”

“That’s our contention. They can’t hold you for anything other than association. Our lawyers say they’ll blow this wide open, but…”

“What?”

“We think they may be working on another angle.”

“Oh, I can guess.” She looked at them each in turn, and barely flinched when the door opened and two men in suits walked in. They were smiling, and she knew.

“You want our silence on what we saw up there on Icarus.

The first man produced a folder and set it down in front of her, indicating the two men to take a seat.

“In a nutshell? Exactly.”

“Who the hell are you people?” Mark asked, trying to show some bluster while Nevin held up a hand for him to be quiet.

“National security is all you need to know,” said one.

“That, and we’re the guys who can let you walk out that door,” said the other. “Or we could keep all three of you locked up until we have your assurance. However long that may be.”

“National security,” Diana said, crossing her arms. “I’ve heard it before.”

“You can’t shut this out,” Mark insisted, still trying to be brave.

“They can, unfortunately,” Nevin replied softly, taking a seat beside Diana. “It’s business as usual.”

Diana perked up. Nevin knew. It was confirmation of another sort, and she felt a surge of pride for him. He’d never tell her — or at least not until now. Until she had found for herself this incredible proof.

“Guarantee her silence,” the first man said. “Sign all the usual papers, turn over the evidence and let us sanitize the mission results, and you can be on your way.”

“What about M-, Mason?”

“He’s no longer your concern, ma’am.”

“Ma’am?” Diana stood, clenching her fists together.

A hand on her shoulder again. Nevin leaned in and whispered: “Diana. This is a gift. Trust me. Best we’re going to get. Take it and I’ll fill you in later.”

She turned to him, after eyeing the two goons until they backed up a little and turned to give them space. “What’s to make them stop? I could be sniper-shot at Starbucks tomorrow. Or wire-tapped the rest of my life.”