A Power: Book 2 in the ‘Psychic Chaos’ Series

By P.S. Wall

Continuing on from Book One, Derek Jones is joined by his mysterious Uncle Doug, bringing with him danger, excitement, and revelation, as the ex-scientist is a wanted man hunted by the ultra-secret Group.

Derek should be on top of the world, successful business, beautiful girlfriend, only his destiny lies not in the realm of the normal but possible worldwide catastrophe, as life on earth is threatened with extinction. Dereks joined by a female ally, Tima, possessing the ability to manipulate high energy EM fields, and together they must save his uncle, so the three of them can then save the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503507340

P.S. Wall

Pete Wall is a semiretired author and web editor and lives with his dog, Trisha, on his property in Northern New South Wales. He began writing earnestly in the nineties, and the short story In Dreams won a highly commended award and was published in Short Stories ’94. In the year 2004, a journalism diploma was completed, and then nonfiction works were published in local papers and blog sites, and articles were published in the sociopolitical journal Australian Quarterly (AQ). The idea for his first novel came from a dream. Pete also holds a degree in literature and comprehension from Griffith University, Queensland. His passions in life are his children, writing, and preserving the environment for future generations.

Book preview

PART ONE

1

D erek Jones stood outside the ‘Patisserie’ in his blue jeans and black chef’s uniform, holding a cup of coffee and staring at a strangely familiar old guy in brown pants and a white shirt who’d just addressed him by name. ‘You’re kidding,’ he said, placing the cup on the nearest table and approaching the man.

‘You’re Doug Jones!’ Derek extended his hand, ‘My father’s brother.’

Doug clasped the hand of his nephew, and both men shook vigorously. ‘I’m not surprised you know who I am, my boy,’ he said smiling.

‘Yeah, well, you look like my dad, only older,’ said Derek, ‘and I seen you at the funeral.’

‘That you did.’

It’s then that Derek spotted his girlfriend, Selena, ascending the escalator, his eyes drawn to the incredible form of his lady—moth to the flame. The two young friends had breakfast together most mornings, before Selena opened her father’s Heart Check Clinic.

‘She’s very beautiful,’ said Doug.

‘She certainly is,’ agreed Derek, turning to look at the older man, ‘listen, I’m having breakfast with Selena, would you like to join us?’

‘That would be great.’

By now Selena is only metres away, dressed in the clinic’s uniform of tight maroon pants and light-grey cotton polo, raven hair tied back in a ponytail.

Derek’s heart swelled. ‘Good morning,’ he said, cheerfully.

‘Hello,’ said she, walking up and kissing the lips of her boyfriend.

Selena then looked at Doug, and smiled. ‘And who may this gentleman be?’

‘Ah, you don’t know about…’

‘I’m Douglas Jones, Derek’s uncle,’ Doug interjected, extending his hand.

‘Oh,’ said Selena, taking the offered hand and shaking lightly. She then turned to Derek. ‘I didn’t know you had an uncle.’

‘Neither did I,’ said Derek.

‘It’s a long story,’ said Doug.

‘Well, unfortunately, it’s one I’ll hear later,’ said Selena. She kissed Derek on the cheek. ‘I was going to take a rain check on breakfast, hon. I’m meeting father at the clinic to go over a new computer program I already know how to use, so shouldn’t take long.’

‘Okay,’ said Derek, ‘I’ll catch you later then?’

‘You will.’ Selena said, turning to Doug, ‘And nice to meet you.’

‘The pleasure is all mine,’ said Doug.

As Derek savoured the sight of his lady’s retreating behind, his grumbling stomach reminded him he needed food, having had nothing since arriving at the shop around 2.00 a.m. He is about to invite his mysterious uncle to join him.

‘So your mother tells me you’re quite the cook, Derek.’

‘Hey? When did you speak to Mum?’

‘I called John’s … her house.’

‘Okay,’ said Derek. ‘And said what: Hi, I’m your dead husband’s brother?’

‘In a manner of speaking, and if I’m not mistaken, your mother took it very well. She quizzed me to check that I’m not some kind of a prankster, of course. But after I’d answered questions that only a family member would know, we got on rather well.’

‘Yeah we’d already spoken about you when I found your birth certificate in Dad’s stuff, so shouldn’t have blown her out too much.’

His face then creased into a disconcerted look, and Derek said to his uncle, ‘So what the hell’s going on mate, where have you been and why all this cloak and dagger stuff?’

Doug smiled in spite of his nephew’s ire, ‘Well, how about I give you a shortened version over breakfast then, my boy?’

‘That would be bloody fantastic,’ said Derek, throwing in some sarcasm for good measure. He’d been searching for answers for too long now.

He then reached over and grabbed a menu off the nearest table, and went to hand it to his uncle.

‘I’ll have the bacon and egg roll that you have most mornings,’ said Doug.

‘Hey,’ said Derek, ‘So you’ve been watching me?’

‘In a way,’ said Doug, ‘but I don’t think it’s exactly the way your thinking.’

‘You’re not going to say, ‘with your mind’?’

‘And if I did, Derek, that shouldn’t come as too great a surprise? But no,’ added Doug, ‘from that table over there, actually.’ He pointed to a table close by, ‘incognito.’

Shaking his head, and with his mind replaying certain weird events from the past few months, Derek said to no one in particular: ‘Here we go again.’

With the wedding only three weeks away, Robin Archer had yet to settle on a photographer and still had to view the changes she requested be made to her dress, created by future husband Leon’s gay dressmaker friend, whose first attempt had her breasts bulging out like some Victorian era harlot.

And then there is the venue, the Northshore Yacht Club’s auditorium, also organised by Leon, God bless him. Great spot, beautiful view, but lousy restaurant, and club policy doesn’t allow for external caterers to be brought in.

So after a meeting with the club president, Jack Thomas, a stuffy old sea dog, where Leon pulled the money card citing his family’s contributions to the club, it was agreed that although a precedent could not be set, there is nothing in the rules that wouldn’t allow another chef to be brought in to supervise the menu, as long as it is voluntary.

Robin quickly realised where Leon was heading with the old captain: he wanted to get Derek to help out. Which reminded her that she still hadn’t told her nephew that as well as walking her down the aisle, he would be ensuring the food is to his usual high standards.

She then recalled with fondness how Derek beamed with pride when asked to walk his aunt down the aisle. He loved and respected old Fred, Robin, and his mother Eileen’s deceased father, who passed away peacefully one sunny afternoon in July 2002. Poor Derek had not only lost a friend that day but now all his grandparents, and his father.

Thinking of her nephew’s familial misfortune nevertheless gave Robin pause to smile, as she organised the final list of wedding guests—some 212 of them!—in her blue dressing gown and matching fluffies.

For she knew Derek would say something along the lines of ‘yeah, worries,’ and sort both duties out with no problems in his usual methodical manner. She is so proud of that boy, he’d rose from the despair of losing his father and battling drug addiction, to forging a great career and then against all odds and some really weird adversity, won the heart of the love of his life, Selena—the most beautiful girl, outside and in—and Robin could not be happier for her nephew.

She had to admit though, there was a time not that long ago when she worried, when Derek was going through that, in his own words, ‘psychic chaos stuff’, but as usual, her nephew rose above that too, and now, thanks in part to Leon, looks set to keep rising.

The boys were talking about franchising the ‘Patisserie’ and Leon and Derek are getting on like a house on fire. Sis telling her that Derek had said his future uncle-in-law is like the big brother he never had.

That also reminded her, not everyone is happy with these developments, namely, Peter, Leon’s playboy younger brother, and the enigmatic James, Selena’s brother.

Peter’s nose got out of joint when Leon told him that Robin would be moving in and he had to find accommodation other than big bro’s plush Northshore unit. Then as the relationship between Derek and Leon began to grow, Peter didn’t turn up for his shifts and was hard to contact. When confronted by Leon, Peter had said ‘What’s the problem? You got boy-star to run things.’ Obviously, and understandably, if Robin is fair, Peter’s jealous.

Then there’s the other thorn in her nephew’s side: James. She knew very little of the young man other than what Derek has told her, and seen even less. In short, for a supposed Christian, he’s bloody scary, and it’s not the birthmark on his face but whatever rages beneath. Where Derek and Selena had moved past losing a parent, this young man seemed to have turned loss into eternal anger, barely contained. Robin could also sense he had a possession thing going on for his sister, and couldn’t help worry how it would all turn out. Something, someone, had to give.

2

D erek had a thousand questions to ask his uncle but politely waited until the older man had finished his breakfast, and the plates were cleared away, with the waitressing completed by Julie, the cafe’s thirty-five-year-old front-end manager.

A recently nationalised Aussie of Germanic descent, Julie Bunka is gym fit, and looked attractive in the cafe uniform of black skirt and yellow polo. Her short, red hair pulled back in a tight, netted bun.

Derek had made the introductions and then watched in fascination as his septuagenarian uncle flirted with his employee throughout the course of the meal’s delivery.

Then with the arrival of the coffees, came the comment:

‘Derek, my boy, you’re surrounded by such beautiful women,’ said Doug, beaming and winking at Julie.

Derek had had enough. ‘And a disappearing, depraved old uncle, it would seem?’

‘Hey, that’s a bit rough mate,’ said Doug, ‘can’t an old bloke appreciate beauty these days. It’s all one can do, I dare say.’

Now Derek felt bad about snapping at his uncle. ‘Look mate, I agree with you, all the girls that work here are good sorts. You’ve got my partner, Peter, to thank for that.

‘But it’s been a long wait for this story of yours, Doug, since I found your birth certificate, to be exact. So why don’t you start with why we had it in the first place, and how come no one’s ever bloody heard of you?’

Derek then sat back in his seat, eyes not moving from his uncle’s face, one that beneath the grey hair and wrinkles held the same angular jawline and green eyes that he remembered of his father.

Without further ado, Doug then began his tale of two brothers:

He being the elder by five years and a science teacher, and John, Derek’s father, worked for Telecom, an average, all-’round good guy.

Then in 1963, the Vietnam War saw them both enlist, John the first in uniform as a sapper, Doug into the shadowy world of intelligence.

John suffered shrapnel wounds to his leg during the Battle of Long Tan in ’66 and returned home to an indifferent country. He recovered, got back with Telecom, got married and had a son, before succumbing to the ravages of lung cancer.

Derek knew that story of course.

It’s when his uncle focused on his own exploits, returning from the Vietnam War to work for a clandestine research company in America on a secret project, did Derek move forward in his seat, listening intently.

He is about to ask more about the project, when his uncle moved forward as well, leaning across the table until they were both facing each other.

‘Derek,’ said Doug, in a hushed tone, ‘I cannot tell you everything my boy, but I can tell you it is the reason I severed contact with the family and remain on the run to this day.’ He then sat back with a shake of his head and a long, weary sigh, ‘And will remain that way till the end of my days, no doubt.’

‘Bloody hell,’ exclaimed Derek, although disappointed. ‘You’ve gotta give me more than that,’ he said. ‘What was the project for, and why are you on the run?’

Doug had wrestled with this dilemma for a while now: how much should he tell Derek? He eventually decided to tell his nephew the whole story, but for now, bring the boy along slowly. He’d waited this long, a while longer won’t hurt. ‘Actually, the project should strike a chord for you, Derek; it was a scientific study of gifted children.’

‘What, psychic gifts,’ asked Derek? His mother must have informed his uncle of the past weird few months?

‘If psychic is taken as meaning all that we understand about the power of the human mind, then yes,’ said Doug.

‘So why all the secrecy then, wasn’t it something good, for the benefit of mankind?’

‘Indeed, yes,’ Doug’s face adopted a knowing look, ‘but when you get to my age, Derek, you’ll understand that nothing will ever be for the sole benefit of mankind. It would benefit some, the powerful and elite naturally, but most will never get or feel anything. Such is the way this world works.’

‘Yeah, well, modern society’s a sham mate, don’t you know. Corruption, secret societies, religion, media, advertising, etc., all designed to manipulate and control the people.’

Doug nodded approvingly at his nephew, ‘Exactly, my boy.’

‘Yeah, well been watching some good docos of late,’ Derek admitted, ‘and Dad used to ramp on about the corruption in government and society all the time.’

‘Yes,’ said Doug with a smile, ‘John was always a bit of a closet activist; the war would only have made him worse. But he was right, as most people now know as a matter of course: modern society has a vein of corruption running through it as wide as the Nile, only now far greater and vastly more entrenched.’

By now shoppers were filling the aisles, and Derek knew without looking at his watch that he had prep work to do. There are many questions he would ask his uncle, but for now one would have to suffice: ‘So why are you on the run?’

Doug had dealt with this question as he lay in the desert sands that fateful evening in 1977, to the years spent acquiring false identities and moving from country to country. The truth of it is he made a mistake at the facility, a big, stupid mistake, and hoped to God that wasn’t the catalyst for whatever happened.

‘Something went wrong, Derek. The project was snuffed out while I was absent and I was meant to be snuffed along with it apparently. There is no official record of it ever existing. Naturally, I had to be careful making enquiries unless I awakened a sleeping tiger, but if they think I am dead, then that’s fine by me.’

‘You’re kidding,’ said Derek, ‘so nothing as to what may have happened, no record, nothing?’

‘That’s right, but my guess is that to enact a protocol like that, whatever happened had to be extremely bad. Maybe the kids turned aggressive, maybe some kind of disease broke out; they did bring children and their parents in from all over the world into a confined space. I don’t know.’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Derek. Now he had more questions, but they would have to wait. ‘Listen, I have to get to work.’

‘Yes, I’ve taken up enough of your time, my boy.’

‘No worries,’ said Derek, rising from his seat. ‘So, what now, are you in town for a while? When do we see you again?’

Doug rose also, ‘You will see me tonight, if that is okay. Your mother has invited me for dinner.’

‘Great,’ said Derek, ‘look forward to it.’

The two men shook hands, and as Derek turned to walk off, Doug said, ‘Breathe a word of this to no one, my boy.’

3

T hirty metres down the promenade walkway, between Vitality Health Foods and the centre-management offices, sat the Heart Check Clinic, owned by Selena’s father, Dr Stephen Jacobs.

The concept is to provide convenient and affordable heart healthcare with prevention as the focus. Mall shoppers or patients can drop in and have their blood pressure, heart rate, cholesterol, and blood sugar levels checked, with a referral service to the general practitioners’ clinic on the ground floor, and further consultation by Dr Jacobs, if needed.

Client/patient admission rates had been low, however, ten in the first month, with nine of those being males ducking in while the wife is shopping in the supermarket below. The percentage is the good part, meaning convenience was the catalyst, and of course, that is a primary reason for establishing the clinic. Also, extremely high blood pressure was detected in one patient, and further tests discovered a blockage in a major artery.

A relatively simple though life-saving stent operation was then performed in the local day-surgery unit, and the patient has resumed a normal and now more health-conscious life.

This one life they may have saved meant everything to Selena, the daughter of a heart surgeon. Of course her father saved lives on a daily basis; this just one among