The Consciousness Puzzle

By K. Riley

With his brother missing and his house ransacked, soon-to-be divorced Mike Locke finds himself running from anonymous henchmen and towards even more danger. But thanks to a little help from unlikely sources, Mike decides to stop running and to start fighting back. As he digs deeper to discover the truth behind his brother's disappearance, Mike is pulled into a world of artificial intelligence and human experimentation that makes him realizes it was a bad time to give up alcohol and cigarettes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kevin Riley
• Release date: Jun 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386161318

Book preview

The Consciousness Puzzle

K. Riley

Published by Kevin Riley, 2016.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE CONSCIOUSNESS PUZZLE

First edition. June 11, 2016.

Copyright © 2016 K. Riley.

ISBN: 978-1386161318

Written by K. Riley.

The Consciousness Puzzle

Kevin Riley

Copyright © 2016 Kevin Riley

All rights reserved.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again I need to thank my wife for putting up with all the time I spend working on these books instead of working around the house.

I also owe a great thanks to Jeri and Daniel whose efforts turn my error laden writings into something readable.

1

I should have known something was wrong before I even entered the house. All of the curtains were closed and Spaz, Joey’s terrier, was not barking. Still, I didn’t think anything of it so I headed around back and grabbed the extra key from the beer-keg planter.

Joey, I hollered as I made my way through the mud room, not that I really expected him to answer. My brother had a habit of disappearing without letting anyone know, though he usually at least made arrangements for Spaz. It had been a couple days since I’d heard from Joey and he wasn’t returning my calls or texts so I felt obligated to check on him, not like I didn’t have enough shit to deal with in my own life.

Hey dickhead! I tried again as I moved through the kitchen. Still not getting a response, I was just about to yell something really vulgar but that’s when I reached the living room and was stopped in my tracks.

The place was trashed; couch cushions were shredded, the end tables were overturned and shelves were emptied onto the floor. Joey had been known to throw some crazy parties, but that mess was definitely not from a night of fun. I didn’t know what he’d gotten himself into, but It had to be the result of one of his stories.

As an investigative reporter, Joey lived to uncover some form of government corruption or corporate misdeed. I would have been proud of my little brother, except he didn’t do it for any altruistic reasons; he did it to get his name in the papers. Early on in his career he had uncovered a local automotive coatings company illegally dumping semi-hazardous waste. The story brought some national recognition and hooked him up with some important people; after that there was no stopping him. His thirst for fame now took him over the country and occasionally outside of it. He had brought down some big companies and even bigger politicians in his pursuit of greatness. From the look of his house it had come back to bite him in the ass.

I realized my cries were loud enough to wake the dead so anyone still in the house knew exactly where I was and chances are they’d be armed as well. Rushing back to the kitchen I made my way to the stove. Joey wasn’t much of a chef but he had a great set of knives, the result of too many late night infomercials. I hadn’t thought to bring a weapon, so I grabbed the largest knife out of the butcher block holder. It wouldn’t be much use against a gun, but it was better than nothing.

After seeing the living room I moved a little more cautiously through the remaining first floor rooms. The formal dining room and library had both been thoroughly ransacked, every dish, every book was lying on the floor. On the positive side, I kept telling myself to be thankful there was no blood. Clearing the downstairs rooms, even making sure no one was hiding in the pantry, left me only one course of action. Against my better judgment I moved to the staircase.

Originally the house had two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. Joey had no roommates and no plans to start a family any time soon, so he combined two of the bedrooms into one giant master suite. As I reached the top of the steps and stood in the doorway, I realized that Joey’s bedroom was probably the size of my entire apartment. Shaking off that depressing thought, I turned back to the task at hand.

Like the downstairs, his bedroom had been wrecked. Clothes were thrown everywhere, the pillows and mattresses ripped apart. Every piece of furniture had been shattered in search of whatever secret Joey had uncovered.

Combing through the contents of his desk, I couldn’t tell what he might have been working on. The docking station for his laptop was thrown on the floor, but the computer was nowhere to be found. His tablet was missing too, but really the hardware was inconsequential. Joey was smart, storing most of his work online. Occasionally he’d ask me to review one of his exposés so I had access to most of his files but it wasn’t something I really looked at; it was hard to care about what company was illegally importing wood from the rain-forest, or which politician was the most corrupt today when I had so much other shit to think about, like how to pay next month’s mortgage payment or keep my marriage intact. Now, thanks to Joey, I had to go start digging through all of his notes to find out what he’d gotten himself into.

My little brother really could be selfish. I mean, yes he was doing some good in the world, and was doing a lot better for himself than I was, but he always put himself first and this time I was going to have to deal with it. I could feel my blood pressure starting to rise as I clenched and unclenched my fist. Sometimes I really wanted to beat him.

I started towards the door and was about to head back downstairs when I heard a noise from the closet. My anger at Joey and whatever he was dragging me into was already clouding my judgment and in my haste I’d forgotten to check that one last area. I immediately spun around, but the closet door was just barely open. I couldn’t take my eyes off it as I moved around the king size bed, trying to be silent while hoping to get a better position.

I’d barely made it across the room before the door slowly started to open wider. My heart felt like it would beat out of my chest as I tightened my fist around the knife handle, waiting directly in front of the door for the intruder to emerge. The seconds ticked by but still no one came, though the door remained slightly cracked.

Sweat started to drip from my forehead and my muscles knotted up as I stood there in anticipation. Finally I couldn’t take it any longer. I knew it could be the asshole who tore up Joey’s house in there, but there was also a chance it was Joey, lying near death in a pool of his own blood. With the knife still clenched in one hand I grabbed the door handle, swung it open, and jumped through the opening yelling wildly as I did so.

Joey would have laughed if he could have seen me jumping and yelling like a madman while Spaz stared up at me, wagging his tail. The dog didn’t look the least bit frightened, just excited to see me, but as I bent down to scoop him up I saw what I’d been fearing all along, blood and lots of it.

I scanned the remainder of the closet but Joey’s body was nowhere. I was just starting to picture the scenario in which his body had been dragged out of the closet when I noticed even more blood running down my arm. It took only a second to find the bullet wound in the dog’s leg.

‘Great,’ I thought. ‘Now Joey’s got himself into something and I’m left cleaning up his mess and taking care of his dog.’ Not that Spaz was a bad dog, he was actually one of the better ones, I just couldn’t afford to feed myself some days. How was I supposed to take care of that little fur ball and figure out what the hell was going on? Joey’d gone after some big fish in the past; congressmen, police commissioners. There was no telling who he’d pissed off this time so I had to get a few answers before going to the authorities.

I continued cursing my little brother as I gathered everything I could think of and got the dog into my car. There really was only one place I could think to take Spaz, but driving to the vet’s office, I had to wonder whether the makeshift tourniquet would hold. Duct tape and a kitchen towel were all that was keeping the dog’s blood from spewing forth and soaking the interior of the car. My ‘65 Buick Riviera was the last nice thing I still owned so if his dog ruined it I’d have to kill Joey, provided he was still alive.

I took a deep breath as I pulled up to the vet’s office. I knew Valerie would take good care of Spaz, after all she was the one who gave the dog to Joey. I also knew she wouldn’t go to the police before I had a chance to find out what happened to Joey. He'd pissed off so many people with his stories, people in high places with friends in low places, that I really couldn't chance getting the wrong people involved.

Oh my God, what happened? she said as soon as I walked in the door.

I think he’s been shot. I started to explain.

Are you...

I’m fine, I replied, glancing at my blood soaked shirt. but I don’t know about Spaz, I just found him like this.

Found him? What happened to Joe, she said, running around the counter. Is he alright?

I paused when I saw the concern in her eyes. That was one thing I didn't expect to see from her, not after everything Joey had put her through. She was the only ex girlfriend of his that I actually liked, and apparently she’d meant a lot to him; they managed to last six months before he screwed things up.

What's going on Mike?

She deserved the truth, only I didn’t have that to give.

I don’t know Val. I think Joey’s got himself into some serious trouble this time.

That sounds like him.

Look, I replied, trying to keep her from reminiscing, I need this to stay between you and me, OK? Just until I figure out who he’s pissed off this time. And I need you to keep an eye on Spaz for a couple days. At least until I know what’s going on.

I don’t know...

Val, please. I just need a little time to find out what’s happened to Joe.

I’ll fix him up and I won’t say a word yet, but I’m not doing it for your goddamn brother.

That was pretty much the reaction I expected, though I’d also been prepared for a few slaps to the face or something heavy thrown at my head. She seemed much more calm since she stopped seeing Joey, but I guess that made perfect sense.

Thanks, I said, and if anyone comes around, it might be best if you pretend you don’t know me or Joey.

I’ve been trying to do that for a long time.

I’m hurt.

You know what I mean.

Yeah, I guess I can't blame you.

Well the past is the past, now I'm just concentrating on the future.

That's a great philosophy, hopefully I can make sure Joey has a future.

I’m sure he'll be okay, she replied, he has a way of ending up on top.

Thanks, I said, and I mean it, I owe you one.

I will count on that, she said with a slight smirk. And Mike, I do hope everything’s alright with Joe; just don’t tell him I said that.

I grinned and walked out the door.

On the way back to my car, I noticed a white panel van across the street. It was the same one parked a few houses down from Joey’s place when I’d gotten there. Starting to feel paranoid I decided to see if they would follow me, so I pretended not to notice. Sure enough, I heard their engine start as soon as I pulled out of the parking lot. Without knowing what was going on there was no way I could go straight home, so there was only one other place I could think of.

2

Hey Mike. It’s been a while, Keith said as I walked up to the bar.

Two months, I thought. Two long months since I last stumbled home. Two long months since I received those damn papers.

What the Hell? he said, seeing the blood on my shirt.

Don’t worry, I said, it’s not mine.

Here, he said, pulling a sweatshirt from behind the bar and throwing it at me. And your regular?

Thanks, I said, slipping on the shirt, but let’s skip the vodka. I just want the ginger-ale and another favor.

That depends on the favor. I already gave you my good shirt.

Then you really need a new wardrobe, I said looking at the stained OSU shirt I’d just put on. What I really need is a computer with internet access. You got one around here?

There’s a good strip club down the street if you need ...

It’s nothin’ like that, I said grinning. Keith really did have a one track mind. If he hadn’t opened the bar he probably would have owned his own strip club… or become a pimp.

I just need to look at something my brother might have been working on.

You can use the one in the office back there, he said pointing behind him. But seriously, no porn, no booze? What’s the point in living?

I could only shake my head as I made my way to the back.

The computer was slower than molasses, and my patience was thin, but I really couldn’t complain. There’s no way I could have gone back to my apartment to look at Joey’s research, not with that panel van outside, so I had plenty of time to kill and very few options. Hanging out in a bar was probably the worst choice to help me stay sober, but I really couldn’t come up with a better solution.

The browser finally opened and I made my way to the file sharing site Joey used. It took me a couple tries to remember my username and password but a few minutes later I was scrolling through hundreds of his documents; page after page of folders, all carefully labeled and expertly organized. Detailed notes of every story Joey had ever worked on were at my fingertips which could definitely make it easier to find out what he was up to, if I could just narrow it down. My notes were usually scribbled on cocktail napkins, gum wrappers, or if I was lucky, on a small notepad I occasionally remembered to stick in my pocket. Joe had actually bought me a PDA a few years back to ‘help with my writing’. For some reason it stopped working during a drunken walk home from the bar in the rain.

After a cursory glance through Joey’s files I didn’t feel any closer to figuring out what he’d gotten himself into. It was information overload and I was almost ready to give up when I noticed an option at the top of the list to ‘sort by date last modified’. With one push of a button it became obvious what Joey had been working on. I guess modern technology could occasionally be helpful.

The file at the top of the list was labeled Alternative Control Concepts and it was the only one that had been modified in the past couple weeks. Whatever it was, it had been enough to occupy all of Joey’s time.

I started at the earliest documents, trying to make sense of what he was looking into. Each of the documents discussed harnessing the power of the human mind, utilizing the untapped potential of the psyche, all of which sounded like something out of a bad sci-fi flick. Apparently a nearby college and the army felt otherwise; both were heavily invested in the joint project. They had various testing going on at the college and there was even secondary research going on at an off campus facility. Joey’s notes were short on details regarding the secondary facility but it was clear he felt the real story would be found there.

The notes went on to catalog various military and civilian personnel associated with the program. It seemed they had a high turnover rate but Joey was having trouble locating anyone who had left. Everything he had was circumstantial, but it was obvious why Joey saw a chance at a great expose. I, on the other hand, also saw the danger. Snooping around army research didn’t sound like a great