Special Developments

By Garrett Michael Pace

Bob just made the discovery of the century; it’s about your five-year-old.

Well-to-do dreamer Bob Rogers, convinced of the human mind’s vast, untapped potential, develops a method of testing young children for a variety of extraordinary abilities. He is then shocked to discover that several such abilities not only do exist, but they are also far more commonplace than he ever could have imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Garrett Michael Pace
• Release date: Jul 15, 2016
• ISBN: 9781942823032

Garrett Michael Pace

I was born in Provo, Utah, and grew up in Las Vegas and in Henderson, Nevada. My mom read to me a lot when I was little (she says it was the only way she could get me to sit still), and so I fell in love with reading at a very early age, and have been writing (or at least trying to) since shortly thereafter.I served as a Latter-day Saint (a.k.a. “Mormon”) missionary in Central Mexico from June ’03 to June ’05, where I also fell in love with the Mexican people, their language, their food, and their culture (which is why you’ll see these all pop up in almost all of my writing).My sweet wife was raised in Central Mexico, coincidentally, and we now have four beautiful, dangerously intelligent, and unbelievably busy children.

Book preview

To everyone who has patiently listened to me talk (and talk, and talk) about this book: Maureen Mitchell, Dean and Rachel Haymore, Miguel Hermosillo, Kevin Trinosky, Lindsey Stevens, and many, many others. Thank you so much for your encouragement, in the often-discouragingly long time it has taken to get this book ready for publishing. Each time I talked to you about publishing this story, you gave me a much-needed boost.

To everyone who has also helped give me feedback on the cover design and content: Joanna, AnneMarie, Emmalynn, Trudy, Adison, Ana Shimono, Ulises Ramírez, Nick Wruk, Dave Heston, Tyral Perry, Tony Altomare, Dan Yeates, and Blaze Bishop.

To all of my editors, who have done all of the above and more: Mom, Dad, Lyndsi, Matthew, Jessica, Tanner, Larry Morales, Miguel Álvarez, and Nate Snarr; you have all helped to make this book much better than it ever could have been otherwise.

To my wife Verónica, whose support and advice made this book possible, and to our beautiful children, who inspire me more than they know.

And to everyone who has ever wished they could fly.

"Mankind was always meant to fly."

- Grayson Wick

Part I

Special Developments

Prologue

Monday, April 6, 2009

1:13 a.m.

Southeast China

The young Chinese soldier gritted his teeth in irritation, following the bright circle of his flashlight beam as he strode along the otherwise pitch-black corridor which led to the armament room.

Twenty minutes ago, the lights had first gone out. The power had failed, supposedly, and had then been only momentarily restored by the emergency generator coming on. But the young man, new at the prison facility, was beginning to suspect a practical joke by the other guards.

There had been several short, increasingly frantic radio messages over the past half-hour, each report less believable than the last:

The compound’s power transformers found ripped into pieces.

The night sky tearing open with thunder and fire.

A fiery pit opening up just outside the building’s walls, and demons rising from the flames.

A monster falling from the blazing sky and attacking the men who guarded the front of the facility.

The monster overpowering the guards outside, before moving into the building itself.

True, the young soldier had heard a massive explosion outside – possibly even overhead – shortly after the lights had died a second time. And although the idea of artillery being wasted on such a prank was a bit far-fetched, the reports coming over his radio were much more so.

Still, he had received the order to fall back to the armament room, and so he trudged along the darkened corridor, wondering what surprises awaited him there.

He almost passed the door in the darkness, but he stopped abruptly as he recognized his surroundings. Then he took a deep breath, turned left into the open doorway, and stepped inside, hoping for the best.

He played his flashlight beam around the silent room, and then he saw the bodies.

Nine of his fellow soldiers were strewn around the edges of the room like rag dolls, unconscious or worse, with their limbs and bodies bent and twisted at unnatural angles. The smell of spent gunpowder was almost overpowering, and the young guard’s breath caught in his throat as he involuntarily took a step backward.

What had happened?!

He felt his pulse beginning to hammer in his ears, and he grabbed ahold of the door frame to steady his suddenly weak knees. Then he cried out softly, snatching his hand back from the wooden beam in shock.

Despite the warmth of the air around him, the door frame was covered with ice.

Taking another step backward, he then abruptly changed his mind and darted back into the room. Whatever had done this seemed to have left for the time being, and so he felt much safer in here, among his fallen comrades, than out in the open hallway.

Trembling, he knelt next to the nearest guard and checked his vital signs, desperately hoping that this all might still be just a terrible joke. The man had a pulse and was still breathing, although his respirations were shallow, and there was an ugly welt forming on the side of his forehead and face. The fallen guard’s assault rifle lay a short distance away from him, its barrel still scorching hot, as though it had very recently discharged its entire magazine.

The young soldier glanced upward on impulse, and he again shone his light around the walls of the room. His blood ran cold at what he saw.

Hundreds of bullet holes peppered the wall around the door frame. The door itself was missing, he then realized, with a single piece of wood hanging from the topmost hinge. He glanced around and saw that a dozen or so other wooden fragments lay scattered around the room; the door had been blasted inward.

The soldier felt a sudden wetness on his cheek, and he was startled and ashamed to realize that there were tears running down his face. He was afraid.

Where on earth had this creature come from?

Shaking his head violently, as though he could erase his fear through sheer frantic motion, he stood, mentally berating himself. He was a soldier and – monster or not – he would not be afraid to do his duty.

Taking an assault rifle from the wall, he snapped a 30-round magazine into place. He then took a roll of utility tape and secured his flashlight to the underside of the barrel. The guns did not come with their own sources of illumination, unfortunately, and he would need both of his hands to steady the weapon while shooting.

___________________________

The young soldier moved swiftly along another darkened corridor, although he had no idea if he was even moving in the right direction. His flashlight beam would surely give him away to any unfriendly eyes farther down the hallway, he knew, so his plan was simply to cover as much ground as possible – as quickly as possible – and to fire on anything that moved, unless it was wearing a People’s Liberation Army uniform.

Having reached the end of another long hallway, he turned left, ran a dozen meters, and turned left again. He was beyond panic now, racing through the black corridors and expecting who-knew-what to leap out at him at any time. If he could only surprise the creature, he hoped, he would gun it down before it had a chance to do to him whatever it had done to the other soldiers.

The image of the bullet-ridden doorway sprang up in his mind, but he shoved the thought aside. His fellow guards had missed, and that was all. This creature could not be bulletproof, even if it did possess phenomenal strength and freezing breath. The other guards had simply been taken by surprise and had been too frightened to aim properly, he assured himself. A single, well-placed shot would kill it; all thirty rounds would be overkill.

Still, he clicked the fire selector switch over to fully automatic, in case his running footsteps caused his aim to waver.

Then, turning another corner as he held the rifle up in the firing position, he saw a tall, black shape ahead of him. Although it was roughly thirty meters farther down the hallway, a new terror seized him as his flashlight illuminated the monster.

It was shaped like a man, a very tall man. It was completely black, and seemed to be facing away from him, because it began to whirl around as the bright beam fell upon it.

The young man drew a bead on its head, feeling as though he were moving in slow motion, as the faceless being finished turning and raised an arm as if reaching toward him. His finger faltered on the trigger for a quarter-second, as he realized the creature’s feet did not touch the floor. It was standing in the air!

Biting back a scream, he squeezed the trigger.

Thirteen Years Earlier

Advertisement

Sunday, April 7, 1996

Paid Psychological Study

Participants wanted: all children beginning kindergarten this fall (1996 – 1997 school year), within the Clark County School District, are invited to participate in a paid psychological study.

Each study session will go from Monday through Friday for two weeks, taking one hour per day. Hourly slots are available from 7:00am – 7:00pm.

Compensation will be $25.00 per hour.

Sessions will be held:

• May 13th – May 24th

• June 3rd – June 14th

• June 17th – June 28th

• July 8th – July 19th

• July 22nd – August 2nd

To enroll your child in this study, or for more information, please contact the telephone number given below.

Inquiry

Tuesday, April 9, 1996

Aaron finished dialing the number listed, and he held the telephone handset up to his ear.

Rrring.

Thank you for calling the Rogers Corporate Office, came a kindly voice from the other end of the line, this is Marianne; how can I help you?

Aaron cleared his throat. Hi; I’m calling about an ad I saw, for a study.

May I have your name, please?

Aaron Snow.

And do you have a child beginning kindergarten this fall within the Clark County School District, Mr. Snow?

Yes; my son.

Aaron heard a smile in the older woman’s voice. "Boys are such fun at that age, aren’t they?

The psychological study will take place over a two-week period, she continued, at the same time each day, which we’ll schedule in just a moment. Will there be a parent or legal guardian available to take your son to and from the study each day, Monday through Friday for two weeks, and remain at the facility during the hour that your son participates each day?

Aaron hesitated, letting the long question sink in. Um… yeah. His mother will be able to, if we can schedule a morning time.

Of course. There are five two-week sessions available, beginning on May 13th, June 3rd, June 17th, July 8th, and July 22nd, taking off the weeks of Memorial Day and the 4th of July. Which session were you interested in having your son attend?

Um… Aaron hesitated again. Well, the first one would be fine, but… can I ask what the study’s about, exactly?

Of course, Marianne replied. The study will measure a wide range of cognitive abilities, and the extent to which they can be demonstrated by these four- and five-year-old children. I’m going to ask you for some contact information at the end of this call, and then I can mail you a brochure covering the scope of the study in more detail.

Ah. That’d be great. Aaron relaxed slightly, and then cleared his throat again. Cognitive abilities, he repeated. So, no inkblots, or seeing how they react to movies of spooky clowns? he asked, only half-joking.

Marianne laughed pleasantly. "No, no inkblots or videos of any kind. The children will interact with various objects such as microscope slides, coins, marbles, toothpicks, and other things. A complete list of the activities will be in the brochure."

Aaron smiled. Okay.

Are you still interested in reserving a time for your son? Marianne asked.

Yes, please.

May I have his name, please?

Darius Snow; D-A-R-I-U-S, S-N-O-W.

And you said his mother will be the one primarily transporting him to and from the study?

Yes.

May I have her name, please?

Yeah, it’s Vivian.

Snow, as well?

Yes.

Thank you. Now, Mr. Snow, for the children’s safety, we require all parents or guardians to present photo identification when they pick them up each day. A driver’s license, state ID card, or passport will be fine.

Okay.

We’ll also give the children nametags, both for the convenience of the proctors helping them in the study, and to help ensure that the right child goes with the right parent, afterward.

Sounds good, Aaron said.

Now, we still have all thirteen time slots available during our first session, the first one at seven o’clock in the morning, and the last one starting at seven in the evening. You said you were interested in a morning slot?

Yeah. Is the nine o’clock okay?

Absolutely. The nine o’clock is filling up fastest, but we still have a few seats available. So, we have Darius Snow, accompanied by his mother, Vivian.

Right.

Now, let me ask you a question, Mr. Snow. Do you consider yourself to have a fairly open mind?

Aaron paused, feeling wary again. I… guess. Why?

"Well, we know that most children have very open minds, which is why they’re indispensable to this particular study, Marianne explained. I can’t really do it justice in trying to describe the study in more detail over the phone, so I won’t, but I do want to ask you to try to keep an open mind as you go over the brochure."

As Marianne collected the rest of the information she needed from him, Aaron wondered what, exactly, she had meant.

Q & A

Thursday, April 11, 1996

Margaret’s curiosity had become almost unbearable, by the time the thick envelope labeled Rogers Corporation Psychological Study arrived in her mailbox. Being a recently widowed mother of two small boys, she had been hesitant to expose her young son to anything as intimidating-sounding as a psychological study, but the promise of an extra two hundred and fifty dollars before the end of the next month had convinced her to call the number listed, and the woman she had spoken with had eased her concerns, making the study sound almost like a glorified daycare. Still, the admonition toward the end of their conversation to keep an open mind now had her expecting who-knew-what as she opened the envelope.

Crash.

Margaret dropped the opened envelope onto the couch next to her, and stood up and rushed into the kitchen to see what had happened.

Skyler, the younger of her two boys, had been attempting to push a broom around the floor, and had knocked a plate off the counter behind him with the long broom handle.

Margaret sighed, gently took the broom from the almost-three-year-old boy, and began sweeping up the pieces. It’s okay, honey, she cooed, reaching over and ruffling his hair.

The toddler’s concerned face relaxed, and he hugged her leg.

Go play with Grayson, she added, before it occurred to Skyler to help Mommy pick up the sharp fragments.

___________________________

With the kitchen relatively clean again, the broom hidden away, and the rest of the dirty dishes placed in the sink where they would be safer, Margaret dropped back onto the couch and pulled the brochure from its envelope.

Her name had been typed into an introductory paragraph on the front:

Margaret Wick,

Thank you for enrolling your child in the Rogers Corporation Psychological Study. We remind you that your child’s session time has been scheduled for 3:00 pm, beginning on Monday, May 13th. Please take a few minutes to review the enclosed material, in order to answer any questions you may have about the nature of this study.

Instead of opening the brochure, Margaret turned it over to the back panel and read the short paragraph there:

ABOUT US

The Rogers Corporation was founded on February 10th, 1996, by Robert G. Rogers, to manage his assets after winning over $92 million in the Arizona lottery.

Lucky jerk, Margaret thought, rolling her eyes. Still, at least he can admit he’s a lucky jerk. She continued reading:

This study will be the first conducted by the Rogers Corporation since its establishment, and is the first of many similar projects planned for the near future. We again sincerely thank you for your child’s participation.

Margaret opened the brochure and began to read.

OVERVIEW

This study is based on the premise that the human mind may be capable of directly influencing and/or obtaining information about its environment, without requiring the involvement of the muscles, limbs, sensory system, or any other part of the physical body.

Most people wishing to influence their environment, e.g. turning on a light to illuminate a room, do so by sending a complex series of commands through the nerves to the muscles. They stand, walk over to the lamp, maintain balance while walking, extend the arm and hand an appropriate distance toward the lamp, and manipulate the fingers to move the switch. Although most healthy adults think nothing of this process, it is actually the product of several years of discovery, learning, and repetition. An infant is not born with the strength, coordination, or knowledge to accomplish such a task; it takes between several months and several years to learn of each muscle’s existence, learn how to communicate with it via the nerves, practice its use, and develop its strength, in order to accomplish the now-simple feat mentioned above.

The object of this study is to determine whether the human mind has other – possibly dormant – means of influencing its surroundings, aside from working through the aforementioned combination of nerves, muscles, and bones. Such means of directly affecting or obtaining information about one’s environment, using only the mind, have existed in fiction under various names for almost as long as mankind has been telling stories. A popular current term for them is psychokinesis, or so-called psychic abilities or powers. Reports of such abilities often occur, but they have rarely been documented, and have never been proved or duplicated to the satisfaction of the scientific community. This study will attempt to determine whether the human mind possesses, and can exercise to any measurable degree, any of these reported abilities.

Psychic powers, Margaret said aloud, shaking her head in amazement. They want to pay us twenty-five bucks an hour to see if Grayson has psychic powers.

Then again, she reflected, someone with $92 million could afford to throw their money away on crazy science projects. Feeling uneasy, but hardly any less curious than before, she moved on to the next section:

WHY CHILDREN?

Children are well-known for their ability to believe in anything and everything that they wish to. This innocent willingness to believe has been determined to be essential to this study.

Babies try again and again to crawl, walk, run, and eventually ride bicycles and drive cars, because they believe they can. Despite numerous unsuccessful attempts at all of the above, children have reason to believe that such things are possible for them, because they observe adults doing so effortlessly, and because they are constantly reassured that they, too, can learn to do it.

Adults have been determined to be generally unsuitable for this project. As adults, we are told that psychic abilities do not exist, we have never witnessed them, and we have never been given any reason to believe in their existence, so we tend not to. This deep-down knowing that any attempt to exercise such abilities will simply not work, leads to a deep-down lack of sincerity in making the attempt, which makes any probability of success far less likely.

Children, on the other hand, are capable of believing in the highly improbable. Virtually all children of this prekindergarten age group believe in such fanciful, unseen beings as Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, simply because they have been told that these exist. Young children want to believe in magic, in fairy tales, and in wishes and dreams coming true. This willingness to believe the impossible makes children ideal candidates for this type of study, because it is generally human nature to only make a sincere attempt at doing something when we think we have a reasonable chance at succeeding.

Margaret caught herself starting to nod in agreement. The wording of the brochure made it seem almost believable, stating it all so matter-of-factly that it made the whole idea sound like a valid scientific question.

She reminded herself that they would make it worth her time, assuming that Grayson didn’t leave the study with any more delusions of grandeur than the typical five-year-old already had. She read on:

STUDY OUTLINE

In order to avoid any negative influence that may be caused by your child developing preconceptions or expectations regarding this study, please refrain from discussing any test in particular with your child prior to his or her completion of that test.

The children will be placed in groups of five, and each day they will be assigned to one of the elementary school teachers who are helping to proctor this study. At the beginning of each test it will be explained to them that it is believed that many of them may have special powers, and they will be given instructions for that day’s 55-minute exercise. Each day they will be tested for one of ten different abilities, which have been listed and briefly explained in theory below:

Clairvoyance (seeing things not visible to the physical eye) – Each child will be asked to identify the contents of several sealed boxes, without lifting or touching them.

Electrical Manipulation (mentally influencing the flow of an electric current) – Each child will view a continuously arcing electric spark within a modified plasma globe, and they will be asked to push the spark away from them using only their thoughts.

Healing (repairing cells and/or stimulating cellular growth; also called psychic healing) – Through a microscope, each child will view a small number of colorful bacteria which divide at a precise rate; they will be asked to help one to grow faster than the rest.

Invisibility (perfect, total transparency) – Each child will place their dominant hand inside a wooden box. Below the palm of the hand will be a very bright (but not hot) light, and above the back of the hand will be a camera which measures the exact quantity of light passing through the hand, and which relays an image onto the screen in front of each child. Each child will then be asked to make his or her hand see-through.

Precognition (accurately predicting the future) – Each child will view a screen and listen to earphones which display and name random objects and images every ten seconds. They will be asked to predict the next picture or word.

Psychometry (viewing the recent history of an object and/or obtaining other information about it) – Children will be asked to handle several small (and clean) objects, such as coins, marbles, toothpicks, etc. They will be shown photos of several staff members, and will be asked to identify the last person to handle (and sanitize) each object.

Telekinesis (moving objects with the mind) – Through a microscope, each child will view several grains of salt; they will be asked to push one away from the rest using only their thoughts.

Telepathy (seeing and/or hearing another person’s thoughts) – Children will sit with their backs to the teacher, who will view a screen displaying random objects every ten seconds, and listen to earphones naming said objects. The children will be asked to describe what the teacher sees and/or hears.

Temporal Manipulation (accelerating and/or slowing one’s perception of time) – Circuitry from a stopwatch, synchronized to the teacher’s clock, will be taped along each child’s arm, with the digital display visible on the back of his or her dominant hand. They will be asked to speed up or slow down their own clocks.

Thermokinesis (mentally redistributing heat or energy; also called pyrokinesis) – Each child will be shown a sealed jar with a large digital thermometer inside. They will be asked to raise or lower the temperature on the thermometer without touching the jar (results will also be recorded with an infrared camera).

All children will be videotaped during testing. While most results will be immediately apparent, others will require some analysis after the testing period is finished. You, the accompanying parent or guardian, will be notified in person of any results as soon as they have been documented.

If you have any further questions regarding this study, there will be staff members available to address these at the testing facility. Please arrive at least ten minutes early at the address listed below, as each session will begin exactly on the hour to avoid any delays.

Margaret lowered the brochure onto her lap and stared across the room at the wall. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about this project, or even how she should feel. On the one hand, the material was completely straightforward in describing this study; on the other, it was the craziest thing she had ever heard of.

Did they honestly expect to find anything, spending who-knew-how-many thousands of dollars on this study? Or were they simply hoping to disprove psychic abilities, once and for all? She couldn’t quite tell. The brochure’s content was worded fairly objectively, probably to discourage the parents from developing any of those same preconceptions that it had mentioned wanting to avoid.

After another moment, Margaret sighed. The money was still too tempting. And she supposed that, as long as she explained to Grayson after the study was over that it had all been a game, and that there were no such things as special powers, that it couldn’t do any more harm than it was worth.

First Day

Monday, May 13, 1996

Bob Rogers was pacing around the recreation center’s wide lobby, more nervous than he could remember ever having been in his life. In less than fifteen minutes he would open the rec center’s front doors, and parents and children would start filing in.

He had already held a brief roll call, although he now knew all of the study’s staff by sight. He had hired all twenty elementary school teachers a little over a month ago, after personally interviewing each one to determine their suitability as impartial, unbiased judges in this first-of-its-kind study.

He had then rented the rec center and several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of equipment to be used over the course of the study, and had purchased other equipment and supplies worth several thousand dollars more. More importantly – and more expensively – he was paying over a million-and-a-half to the parents of the children they would be testing, to compensate them for their time.

Out of habit, Bob ran the staggering figures through his head once more: twenty teachers, each testing five children per hour for a grueling thirteen hours per day, multiplied by five two-week sessions at $25 per hour, per child. The total came to more than $1.6 million paid out to just the parents. The teachers were also paid $25 an hour, and each would work forty hours plus twenty-five more of overtime each week, which came to an additional $385 thousand in total salary to his poor, soon-to-be-overworked staff. It would have been cheaper and far more efficient to hire a larger staff, of course, but there simply weren’t many elementary school teachers to be found in Southern Nevada, who were willing to commit to a project that could turn out to be as long-term as Bob was hoping.

Nervously running a hand through his hair as he glanced once more toward the glass-and-steel double doors, Bob took a deep breath and tried to relax.

Then he smiled. Less than four months ago he had been a nobody, an unemployed, 24-year-old nobody, fresh out of college but still struggling to find a job. Then, entirely out of the blue, he had won the lottery.

He wasn’t even a gambler; his cousin Fred had sent him a lottery ticket as a cheap, late birthday present at the end of January. Out of nothing more than idle curiosity, combined with a regrettably large amount of free time, Bob had checked the most recent numbers… and won.

The ticket had netted him a post-tax cash payout of $92.7 million. It was one of the larger jackpots ever paid out, and his cousin had been the only one to pick all the right numbers.

Fred Rogers, whose first name was actually Jeffrey, but who had loved Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood so much as a child that the nickname had permanently stuck, had been as surprised as Bob when the ticket won him more than ten dollars. The two had thrown a massive party for all of their friends, family and neighbors, which had cost something like $12 thousand.

Finally going to sleep after the party at 7:30 in the morning, and waking up late that afternoon, Bob had gone for a long walk and had done a great deal of thinking. He could live very comfortably – even fairly extravagantly – for the rest of his life off just interest, without even touching his winning themselves ever again. Studying accounting had taught him that much. He knew of a few mutual funds that would give him an average of ten to twelve percent interest annually, if he invested with them. Assuming he never stooped so low as to develop a drug problem, he would be hard-pressed even to spend most of the interest by the end of each year.

But what did he really want?

More than anything he wanted – he needed – to satisfy a longtime curiosity, a question he had asked himself since his childhood.

Finishing his walk, Bob had called Fred. After extracting a rather pained promise from his cousin to quit his gambling, Bob had sent him a check giving him the extra $2 million and change. Bob’s remaining $90 million, he knew, would earn him at least $9 million more each year, and he now knew exactly what to do with it.

___________________________

Drifting back to the present, Bob checked his handsome new watch. Five minutes to go, he thought. He suddenly felt nauseous; the anticipation was killing him.

Would it work? he wondered again. Would any of this do any good? Bob didn’t care about the money. He didn’t care about his broker fainting when he saw the bill, or about the worldwide scientific community laughing at him for generations to come, if he ever made his results public. He wasn’t doing this for any of them. He was doing this for himself, to answer his lifelong question:

What can we really do?

But now, he was afraid of the disappointing, devastating answer he might finally receive.

Bob walked to the room that would serve as his office for the next two-and-a-half months, a few doors down from the large waiting room they had set up for the parents in the lobby, and he sat down at his desk. He drummed his fingers on the desktop, and then flipped on the microphone that had been patched into the rec center’s public address system. He heard the PA crackle out in the hallway, and he cleared his throat.

Good morning, team, he began, sounding far more cheerful than he felt. I hope you all got a good night’s rest. He paused, then admitted, I sure didn’t.

He scratched his shoulder and continued, I’ll be opening the doors in a few minutes, at a quarter ‘till seven, and I’ll be helping the rec staff assign the children to groups in the order they arrive. You all know the drill; all instructions will begin exactly on the hour. On their way in and out, I’ll remind the parents that their children will be in the same rooms each day, whereas we’ll rotate teachers and tests each morning.

He swallowed, and then added, "Remember, if any of your children show any results, please give me a buzz immediately so that I can review the video before they leave.

Thank you all, again, for helping out with this project.

Bob shut off the microphone, went out to open the front doors, and proceeded to pass the next three hours in a progressively more miserable autopilot.

___________________________

At 9:48, the sound of the buzzer launched Bob out of his chair. Heart racing, he scrolled down his computer monitor to find the video footage from the correct room, and he eagerly began watching.

Little Darius Snow had telekinetically pushed a grain of salt halfway across his microscope slide.

___________________________

A moment after Darius and his mother left Bob’s office, the teacher who had supervised Darius’ group tapped at the open door.

Bob looked up at her, beaming. Sandra! Come on in! He gestured to the chair facing his desk.

Sandra Morris stepped into the office and slowly took the offered seat. "Did that really just happen?" she asked, her face a picture of disbelief.

Bob nodded happily. It really did. His increasingly nervous expression of the past few days had disappeared entirely, and he was virtually glowing. "It worked, Sandra!"

Sandra nodded slowly, still digesting what she had seen. To tell you the truth, Bob… she began hesitantly. "Well, I was kind of curious about all of this, and I was hoping that we’d eventually find someone, more for your sake than anything, but… well, I really didn’t think we would, she admitted. I don’t think any of us really believed that we’d find someone. And I definitely wouldn’t have bet that he’d turn up in my group."

"That the first one would turn up in your group, you mean, Bob corrected her with a grin. There’ll be more, trust me."

Sandra looked doubtful, and Bob reasoned, "Well, if there was only one child in all of Clark County that was ever going to pass any of these tests, then what are the odds that he’d show up during the third hour of the very first day? He shook his head, smiling. No, it wouldn’t surprise me if we got another one tomorrow, or even before the end of today! We’ll definitely have our second one by the end of the week," he assured her, grinning broadly again.

Then he looked thoughtful. Do any of the other teachers know, yet?

Sandra shook her head. Not yet; I came straight here, and I actually need to be getting back to my room, now, to start my next group.

Bob nodded as Sandra stood. Well, then, he said, grinning, "I’ll look forward to seeing the next teacher coming in here, looking like they’ve seen a ghost."

Sandra stopped at the door, and she finally smiled. Congratulations, Bob. I’m glad this worked out the way you wanted it to.

Bob’s own smile seemed to be permanently fixed onto his face. Thank you, Sandra. So am I.

___________________________

9:00 p.m.

Nearly an hour had passed since the last children, their parents, the teachers, and the majority of the rec staff had all left, but Bob still hadn’t budged from his desk.

Seven children. He still couldn’t believe it. Seven children had passed their tests throughout the day, demonstrating five different abilities. Bob gazed at his computer monitor for the umpteenth time, running back down the list of names, although he now knew it by heart:

Darius Snow – Telekinesis

Michelle Kerry – Temporal Manipulation

Lisa Vargas – Precognition

Wilson Andrews – Psychometry

Isabel Garcia – Thermokinesis

Michael Rainier – Temporal Manipulation

Charles Baxter - Precognition

Seven children! And after just one day! And not just seven unsubstantiated rumors, or seven questionable videos, but seven recorded, documented examples of people demonstrating special abilities. If things keep up at this rate… Bob thought. Seven children, times fifty days overall for the study, would mean three hundred and fifty children discovered by the time they were through, if this turned out to have been an average day!

He shook his head slowly in amazement. True, the day’s results could turn out to be far from typical, but seven children was still much, much better than he had dared to hope for as the outcome of the entire ten weeks of the study, let alone of the very first day.

Finally willing himself to turn the computer off, Bob stood to leave the small room.

Whistling, he strode out of the rec center and practically danced toward his car. He doubted that he would sleep any better tonight than he had the night before, but it would now be excitement in his stomach that kept him awake, instead of dread.

Results

Thursday, August 1, 1996

David Wallace, please come to room 105; David Wallace, please come to room 105, came a man’s cheerful voice over the rec center’s PA.

David groaned. He closed his book and stood slowly, feeling the eyes of every other parent in the crowded lobby resting on him.

Why me? he thought.

One of the rec assistants pointed down the hall. Two doors down, on the left, she called pleasantly.

David nodded glumly; he knew which way to go. Roughly every other day for the past two weeks, he had seen some unlucky parent go rigid as their name was announced for the whole world to hear, before being given directions to room 105. Those who were called early in the hour, and came back before everyone else left, usually looked as though they had just been hit by an avalanche.

David briefly considered not going. He could simply collect his daughter, take her home, and skip the final day of the study. But the idea fell flat before he could even give it serious thought. They had his phone number, his address… this would hardly be the last time he heard from them. It would be better to face the music now, by himself, he decided as he trudged down the hall, rather than have his wife greet him at the door with an unwelcome letter as he arrived home from work a few days from now.

When he reached room 105 the door was open, revealing a beaming, somewhat younger man sitting behind the desk inside. The same, David suspected, that had made the announcement a moment before. As he entered, the younger man stood, extended a hand across the desk, and spoke, his voice confirming David’s suspicion.

David Wallace?

David nodded, reaching out automatically to grasp the other’s hand, who shook it vigorously with a broad smile. Bob Rogers. It’s great to meet you, Mr. Wallace.

Bob gestured to the comfortable-looking chair that faced the desk. "Please, have a