MIND CONTROL: The Power to Change Everything

By Paul Hillman

The Mind Control technology is coming, and every world power wants it.

Last year, Charlie Smythington became the insurance agent for two of Oregon's largest companies, MT Day's Atlan Sports, the world's largest sports apparel company, and Cognigate Inc., developer of a top-secret mind cont

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sync Publishing Inc.
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781088043776

Book preview

Chapter 1

A close-up of a pair of glasses Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Are you sure this is a good idea, Charlie?

They approached dozens of motorcycles parked in front of the Portland Riders Club, and a crowd of bikers gathered near the entrance, wearing leather jackets and jeans.

Charlie took her hand and started across the street toward the club. There’s nothing to worry about. Bike clubs are not motorcycle gangs. Tony was one of my first clients, and his club members just enjoy riding motorcycles. They go on road trips, hold social events, and even raise money for charities. But I’m not sure how well my speech will go over with them.

You’re nervous? she asked with raised eyebrows.

Yes, I don’t have a good record as a public speaker. Near the entrance, he let go of her hand to switch his briefcase to his left hand.

She squeezed his arm and smiled lovingly. You’ll be great.

When they arrived at the door, a muscular, bald man with a pointed goatee and colorful tattoos held the door open for them. Charlie! Good to see you. He smiled and shook hands.

Hi, Tony. Good to see you, too. This is my partner, Sonja Weyman. Sonja, this is Tony Garzman, president of the club.

Hello, Tony. Nice to meet you. His smile dismissed her fear, and Sonja offered her hand. A shapely woman with blonde hair, blue eyes, and an innocent smile, she wore an enticing summer dress.

Tony gave her a warm smile and shook her hand. Nice to meet you, Sonja. He looked back at Charlie. Go up to the stage while I get everybody gathered.

Inside, many more people stood in groups of three or four in the aisles between rows of folding chairs. Engrossed in their conversations, they didn’t notice when Charlie and Sonja pressed through and walked toward the stage.

At the front of the large room, a two-foot-high, portable stage had three chairs waiting for them. Charlie took the center seat, and Sonja sat on his left.

After herding everyone inside, Tony hurried down the aisle and hopped onto the stage. Listen up! The room quickly quieted. This is Charlie Smythington, my insurance agent. This guy knows more about insurance than anyone I’ve met in twenty years. So, pay attention. He stepped aside. Charlie, they’re all yours.

Charlie walked to the front of the stage, studying the audience. He was six-foot-one-inch, with piercing blue eyes and black, wavy hair, and felt distinctly out of place wearing a suit and tie. He cleared his throat, swallowed hard, and then spoke with his surprisingly resonant voice.

Who would have thought an insurance agent would be talking to a biker club? Usually, I have to sit on people to get them to listen to me. Several people chuckled. "But I wouldn’t want to try that with any of you!" Friendly laughter rippled through the room.

I told my partner on the way here that motorcycle clubs have the same insurance needs as any other organization. But because it’s a motorcycle club, few insurance companies are interested. You can get individual motorcycle policies from any company that sells car insurance. The club is harder to insure because it has a greater potential for claims due to its number of members. Let me go through what our insurance would do for you.

Charlie explained the types of insurance and what each could do for the club. He also showed how the club could offer umbrella liability insurance that would insure members beyond the limits of their motorcycle policy. You can see that there are several reasons why the club should get insurance. Now, here’s the best part. Everything I just explained to you is available for about two hundred dollars a month. He turned to Tony. How many members do you have?

Tony stepped up beside Charlie. Two hundred and twenty-six. The largest club in Portland, he proudly stated to loud applause.

Oh, I didn’t know there were so many. My math skills aren’t good enough to divide two hundred twenty-six into two hundred. Using two hundred members, the insurance cost per member would be about a dollar a month. Most of the people applauded.

Sonja joined Charlie at the edge of the stage and looked at a calculator in her hand. Two hundred twenty-six members would equal eighty-eight cents per month. She got louder applause than either Tony or Charlie. Blushing, she returned to her seat.

So, it sounds like we should get the insurance, right? Tony loudly asked.

Most of the bikers stood and clapped. Tony turned and shook Charlie’s hand. Good work! I told you they would like it.

Charlie grinned. I never doubted you for a minute. After the applause died down, Charlie turned back to the audience. One more thing, if you need help with insurance for your ride, home, or business, take one of my cards and call me. Sonja walked to the edge of the stage and started handing out business cards.

Charlie took a previously completed application from his briefcase and handed it to Tony for his signature. I’ll send it in today, and we should have the policy in a couple of weeks.

You’re the best, Charlie, thanks.

My pleasure, Tony. Say hello to Kathryn and the girls for me.

Will do. Take care. Tony turned to other people wanting his attention.

Charlie got some business cards from Sonja and helped pass them out as they walked to the door. They stepped outside into a sprinkle of spring rain and hurried to their car.

I told you that you’d be good. That was fun. Sonja linked her arm with his.

Yes, it did go well, didn’t it? Who’s next?

They got into Charlie’s maroon Jaguar XJ12, putting the briefcase on the floor.

She got her cell phone and looked at their calendar. We have a wedding boutique on Sandy and, after lunch, an engineering firm.

Okay, we’re on our way. Charlie drove toward Sandy Blvd through heavy traffic. A half-hour later, they found a place to park near a charming corner shop.

At Tracy’s Wedding Boutique, Sonja instantly became friends with Tracy. Charlie followed them around like an unwanted extra to get an application filled out while they dashed around the store looking at the beautiful gowns. An hour later, he almost had to drag Sonja out of the shop, and they hurried back to their car in a steady rain shower.

She has some nice stuff. I’m glad she’ll be a client. Sonja gushed.

Yes, and she’s very outgoing, isn’t she?

Oh yes. I’m looking forward to seeing her again. Sonja smiled.

I think we got the application because you two hit it off so well.

We’re a good team. Sonja beamed.

Seeing her happy smile, it seemed like a good time to ask her something he had been thinking about. Now that we have been working together for a few months, what do you think? Do you miss your clothing store?

No, I’m glad I sold it. Looking back on the three years that I owned it, I was alone most of the time. Since I started working with you, I feel… more alive.

Well, you get more beautiful and vibrant every day, so I assumed you enjoy what we’re doing. But I want to make certain because I want you to be happy.

She took his hand and held it. It seems like a dream to live in MT’s mansion, see my best friend, Summer, and her baby every day, and spend my days with the man I love. It doesn’t get much better than that, does it?

I can’t imagine how. I’ve always enjoyed selling, but sharing it with you makes it more exciting and fulfilling.

After eating brunch at a northeast Portland landmark, the Cameo Restaurant, they drove downtown to the US Bank Tower for their appointment with the engineering firm. The owner only wanted a quote. Charlie quickly got an application completed, and they left.

We have free time. What would you like to do? Charlie asked.

Mmm, can we go window shopping? Sonja asked hesitantly.

Charlie chuckled. Of course, we can, but I think we can do more than that. Let’s go to the Beaverton Mall, where there are a lot of small shops. We’ll look around and drop a business card with the manager. Who knows? Maybe one of them is looking for insurance.

Work while you play. I never thought of that. Sonja grinned.

They parked near the middle of the shopping center and perused the smaller stores. Delivering a business card while they browsed took only a few extra minutes.

They returned to their office in the Atlan Sports complex by four o’clock. It was raining so hard that they used an umbrella to cross from the parking garage to the executive office building. Knowing most of the guards at the entrance, they breezed past with a casual wave of their ID and took an elevator to the fifth floor.

As the insurance manager for Atlan Sports, the world’s largest sports apparel company, its principal owner, MT Day, gave them a corner office. Charlie’s desk sat near the wall-to-wall windows, providing a view of the distant hills and the plaza in front of the building. Sonja’s desk faced Charlie’s across three guest chairs. The back wall had a line of four-drawer, fireproof file cabinets, while the entry wall displayed pictures of their many clients. The credenza behind Sonja’s desk had a printer and racks of forms.

Charlie sent the new applications to the home office while Sonja checked their email and opened their snail mail. When they finished, they returned to their car and headed home.

I still can’t believe we live with MT in his mansion, Charlie said.

I’m just glad that MT offered to let us live with him and Summer. Bad guys destroyed your place, and I didn’t want to live in my house after my ex was murdered there, Sonja explained.

Oh, I am, too, but I never thought he would let us live with him. I thought he would let us use a bedroom for a few weeks until we found something else.

I think Summer convinced him. She was so depressed after her husband went to jail and close to delivering Bonnie that she persuaded MT to let us live there so we could be together.

Hmm, maybe… whatever reason, I can’t imagine a better place to live.

They stopped briefly at the guarded entrance, then followed the winding driveway through the ten-acre, park-like grounds to the three-story mansion. As they entered the house, MT Day arrived, parked near the entrance, and followed them inside.

As usual, Summer had prepared a sumptuous dinner, and over a fine bottle of red wine, everyone regaled the others with tales of their day. Baby Bonnie was the star attraction until she went to bed. When MT and Summer retired, Charlie and Sonja went upstairs to their suite.

* * * * *

The fire cast undulating moments of golden brightness through the room's darkness, making the suite appear to be breathing in and out like a living thing. Articles of clothing, some perilously close to the fire, were scattered about the sofa as though cast off quickly and with carefree abandon.

Near the fireplace, soft, rhythmic moans arose from the leather sofa, the only sounds other than the occasional pop and crackle of the fire and the patter of rainfall on the roof. The moans grew in intensity as they gained pace and were accompanied by the creaking of the sofa.

A shrill blare suddenly cut through the ambiance, seeming to get louder and more urgent each moment.

Let it go, Sonja implored, trying to hold him close.

That’s my important client ringtone. Charlie rose to kneeling over Sonja, forcing her leg off the sofa, and grabbed the cell phone. Glancing at the ID, he answered. Steven, it’s one o’clock in the morning. What’s so important?

Charlie, come over to the Cognigate lab! George is dead! The news, compounded by Steven Gadweils’ tone, sent a chill down Charlie’s back.

What? His excitement of a moment ago collapsed. Dead? What happened?

Not over the phone. Please, just come over here and bring that sergeant of security.

Sergeant Walker? I’m not sure if he’s—

Find him. We’ve got to figure out what to do. Hurry! The phone went dead.

Charlie gazed at Sonja. She lay naked on the soft leather sofa, still breathing hard from their lovemaking. Her blonde hair fanned out around her head, her blue eyes pleaded, and her large breasts were framed by her arms, which still reached for him. Something deep inside him ached. Oh, baby, I hate to do this, but your dad says George is dead! I have to go to Cognigate.

Damn! Sonja crossed her arms, swung her leg back onto the sofa, and rolled onto her side. This is getting to be a habit. It seems like we never have any time to ourselves.

Charlie stood naked beside the sofa. I know, but what can I do? Cognigate is a million-dollar account, and your dad sounded urgent. Urgent! I’ve never heard him sound like that.

Oh, I know. She sat up. You better clean up and get dressed. I’m going to bed. You can tell me about it tomorrow.

Charlie helped her up and into his arms. Thanks, sweetheart. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her warmly. I’ll be back as soon as I can. He hurried to the bathroom as Sonja meandered into the bedroom, picking up their clothing.

Fifteen minutes later, showered and dressed in tan slacks, a white shirt, and his overcoat, Charlie bounded down two flights of stairs to the foyer. The new Calys Security guard sat at his desk near the entrance. Tom, is John here?

No, Sergeant Walker left at one o’clock. Tom was muscular and fit with short black hair and a mustache, and his uniform was so starched it was rigid.

Call him for me, please.

Tom placed the call and handed his cell phone to Charlie.

John, are you nearby?

Just getting onto Highway 217. Why? He sounded angry.

Steven called. He said George is dead in the lab and wants you to meet me at Cognigate immediately. Can you do that? Charlie glanced through one of the front door’s side windows. It was raining like there wasn’t enough time to build an ark.

Shit! Yeah, I guess so. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

Me, too, thanks. Charlie ended the call and handed the phone to Tom. Have a good one. He walked to the door, pulled his overcoat tight around him, and left the house.

He hurried across the circular driveway in the pouring rain and slid onto the Jaguar’s white leather seats. Turning the windshield wipers to their fastest setting, he drove around the fountain in the middle toward the entrance gate. It was dark under the enormous trees, and the well-lit estate looked like twinkling lights in the downpour. He stopped at the gatehouse, waved to the guard as the gate opened, then drove toward the lab.

He wiped the water from his hair. How could George be dead? The lab had 24/7 security staffed by the FBI, NSA, and Calys Security. There’s no way an intruder could get in. And why was Steven calling him? As chairman of the board, why was he even there at this hour?

Charlie shook his head. It had to be about the secret products that Cognigate was developing. The owners wouldn’t even tell him what they were, but they were supposed to take the high-tech industry to the next level. He grinned as he remembered Steven’s excitement, explaining that the company could be bigger than Intel in five years if they could perfect the technology. Visualizing Scrooge McDuck’s bank vault, Charlie settled for that and stopped trying to find out more. Whatever it was, Steven had convinced MT to invest, and MT only invested in sure things.

The rain was a deluge. The traffic lights were smudges through the windshield even though the wipers were going as fast as they could. Taking Highway 26 to Brookwood, Charlie turned west onto Evergreen Parkway. Approaching the old SunPower plant, he was a block from where he needed to turn onto the unlighted Starr Blvd.

Suddenly, a car roared onto Evergreen from his right, its headlights flashing as it swerved into his lane, nearly hitting the Jag. Charlie stamped on the brakes and pulled into the turn lane to avoid it. Charlie hit the bright lights and the horn as the sports car raced away. In the Jag’s bright lights, he could see that it was a fancy, red sports car, and the driver had long blonde hair, then it sped out of sight. He pulled back into his lane and made a mental note to find out where it came from since there wasn’t an intersection where it entered the street.

Charlie turned right onto Starr Blvd. and right again into Cognigate’s complex. As usual, the lights were low, and at this hour, the parking lots were nearly empty behind the ten-foot chain-link fence. At the gated entrance, a Calys Security guard, wearing his bright yellow raingear, stepped out of the gatehouse next to the barrier.

Hi, Charlie, what are you doing here at one-thirty in the morning? The guard asked as rain poured off his Calys baseball cap.

Hello, Pete. Steven said he needed me to come, so here I am. Charlie handed Pete his ID card. Is Sergeant Walker here yet?

No. Is Walker coming, too? Pete sounded anxious as he stuck Charlie’s card into the kiosk that opened the gate. The massive metal gate rose, and Pete handed the card back.

Yes. In his rearview mirror, Charlie saw a dark SUV pull in behind him. I imagine that’s him now.

Okay, have a good one. Pete stepped back, and Charlie went through the gate.

Charlie drove across the parking lot toward the laboratory building. Recognizing the three cars parked near the building’s entrance, he parked next to Steven’s Volvo. As a Calys SUV pulled in next to him, Charlie jumped out and ran to the booth housing the entrance kiosk. The front door popped open after he stuck his ID card into the panel. He pulled the door open and stepped into the lobby to wait in front of an FBI agent at the security scanner. The x-ray-like scanner was like the ones used by the TSA at airports, only it was more powerful.

John entered the building a moment later, brushing water from his uniform. What the hell is this all about? Sergeant John Walker was a tall man with massive shoulders and arms. His dark blue security uniform was festooned with police equipment, including a taser, two pistols, handcuffs, and a radio mic. He wore a Calys baseball cap and black combat boots.

Thanks for coming. I only know that Steven said George is dead in the lab.

Are the police on the way?

I don’t know.

As Charlie stepped up to the security counter, the door behind the scanner opened, and Steven Gadweils and Nelson Murco entered the lobby. They wore white, cleanroom suits that made them look like astronauts. Removing their facemasks, they approached the agent.

Officer, my name is Steven Gadweils, and I asked Charlie Smythington and Sergeant Walker to come here. Neither of them has a security clearance, but as chairman of the board and, along with Nelson Murco, the vice-president of Cognigate, he indicated the man next to him, we will vouch for them.

Yes, sir, I recognize both of you. The agent turned to Charlie. I will need to see your identification, please.

Charlie handed him his Cognigate ID card and driver’s license, and the agent entered the information on a form on his clipboard.

You must leave your cell phone and other electronic equipment in our lockup before entering the building. The officer held out a wire basket, and Charlie placed his phone in it. Slowly walk through the scanner, please.

Charlie stepped through the narrow metal arch as it buzzed faintly.

Thank you, sir. You’re next, the agent said to Walker.

I’m familiar with the process. Walker handed him his ID card and driver’s license, then removed his guns, radios, and other gear and placed them in a wire basket.

After the agent returned his ID, Walker stepped through the scanner.

Thank you. You may enter the building, the agent said.

Steven Gadweils, Sonya’s father, stepped up to the security panel by the door. Nearly six feet, in his fifties, with thinning gray hair, Steven appeared old for his age, but his piercing blue eyes noticed everything. After inserting his ID card, he entered a long series of numbers on a keypad next to the door, and it popped open.

Do you have to go through this each time? Charlie asked.

Yes, we have very tight security in the lab. Steven ushered them inside the pre-gowning room while an air shower blew around them to remove dust or other particulates. The door closed behind them. A moment later, it popped open again, and Nelson entered after using his credentials. Nelson was shorter than Steven, in his mid-thirties, and wore glasses.

Listen up, guys, Steven said. The entire building is a cleanroom environment. It is sealed tight and has an air filtration system to remove nearly all airborne particulates. I can’t tell you the specifications, but any contamination could prevent functional performance at the level of work that Cognigate does.

Steven pointed at the lockers. Please remove your personal items and place them in a locker. Just remember to take the key to unlock it again. Steven and Nelson watched them go through the process.

I’m not sure we should suit up, Walker said. They went to the stacks of gowns and other items on the shelves that Steven had indicated. The police and EMT probably won’t.

Well, until then, Nelson said, let’s keep the lab as contaminant-free as possible. We don’t need to do all the sterilization steps, but the preliminaries will help.

There was a diagram on the wall, and Charlie followed the steps. He put a hair net over his head. After running his shoes through a scrubber, he pulled a pair of rubberized booties over his shoes and put on rubber gloves. Walker did the same.

Okay, let’s go into the gowning room, Steven said.

Steven stepped over to the same type of security station as outside and entered his credentials. Extracting his ID card, he opened the door and ushered them inside. The gowning room had dozens of lockers where ten people could change into sanitized suits at a time.

Following the diagram, Charlie pulled a hood over his head and patted it into place over his shoulders. The one-piece suit came next. After adding the goggles and face mask and tucking the bottom of the hood into the suit, he zipped it up.

Make sure the hood is tucked in, Steven said, before you zip up the bunny suit.

Bunny suit? Is that what this is? John chuckled.

I’m sure it has a more technical name, but that’s what everyone calls it.

After changing, they went through security again to enter an elevator lobby in a hallway with several doors. They took the elevator to the second floor and entered another hallway with glassed-in suites on both sides, creating individual workspaces. Two workstations were in the first large workspace on their right. Steven held his ID badge to the reader next to the sliding glass door, and they entered when it opened.

A large man wearing a bunny suit approached them. I’m NSA Agent Carl Milstein, and this is FBI Agent John Stint. He motioned to a thinner man of similar height who walked toward them.

I know these guys. Stint stepped closer. Hello, Charlie. I hope you have been well. Sergeant Walker, good to see you again. He shook their hands.

Agent Stint! What a small world. I haven’t seen you since you were at MT’s house last year, Charlie said. It felt weird shaking hands in rubber gloves.

Agent Stint, good to see you, Walker said. What happened?

I left my glasses on my workstation. Nelson pointed to a desk and counter about twenty feet to their left. When I returned to get them, I saw George’s car parked near the entrance but couldn’t see him through the door. So, I looked for him when I came inside. Nelson took a deep breath. George was lying on the other side of his workstation. They walked to it and found George Murdock’s body. He was on the floor, but I couldn’t rouse him. I rolled him over but couldn’t detect any breath, and his chest wasn’t moving. I removed my glove and his goggles and mask, then checked for a pulse. He was dead. I called Steven, then Agent Stint, and he called Agent Milstein.

Do we need to notify the sheriff or police? Charlie asked.

We’re in Hillsboro, but in the Washington County Sheriff’s jurisdiction, Stint explained. We’ve already called them, and they should be here soon.

You better notify the gate. Nelson pointed to George’s desk phone.

Charlie called the guard station and told Pete to let the officers enter but to get each officer’s name and ID. Afterward, he studied George’s body.

I don’t see an apparent cause of death, do you? Charlie asked of Stint.

No, we couldn’t see anything either, Stint said. We’ll have to wait for the medical examination.

Nelson dropped onto a side chair nearby, staring at the body, while Steven sat on George’s chair at his desk. A moment later, they heard sirens approaching.

At the sound, Charlie started toward the door, then stopped and turned back. I’d go let them in, but I don’t know the security codes.

Steven, Nelson, and Agent Stint joined him. We’ll come with you, Nelson said.

Chapter 2

A close-up of a pair of glasses Description automatically generated with medium confidence

Nelson let the Hillsboro Police and sheriff officers into the lobby.

Charlie recognized one of the first officers to enter. Sheriff Arden, I’m surprised to see you on duty at this hour of the night. I haven’t seen you since you were at MT’s house last year.

Charlie, good to see you. Sheriff Peter Arden smiled and shook Charlie’s hand. I was wrapping up a homicide case, and I thought I better see what the FBI was up to. Arden was a big man in his forties, Charlie’s height but heavier.

While it’s good to see you, I wish we could meet under better circumstances. Sheriff, you remember FBI Agent John Stint and Steven Gadweils.

Sheriff Arden shook hands with them. Yes, I do, and I want you to meet Captain Ed Cochran, in charge of homicide investigations for the City of Hillsboro. He motioned for one of the Hillsboro Police officers to join them. Ed, you know Agent Stint. This is Steven Gadweils and Charlie Smythington, who helped solve the Atlan Sports case last year.

Cochran, a large man with graying temples, stepped closer. Nice to meet you. Pete and I often work together, so I’ll let him take the lead. As though to demonstrate, he stepped back.

Arden turned to Stint. Agent Stint, I assume this will be an FBI investigation.

Yes, Sheriff, since we have worked together before, I’m sure you know the procedure. Stint smiled as the sheriff nodded. We welcome your help, but the investigation at Cognigate will be restricted to the FBI and NSA.

Charlie motioned for Nelson to join them. Sheriff, this is Nelson Murco, vice president of Cognigate and one of its owners. He found the company’s president, George Murdock, dead in his lab.

Mr. Murco, I’m glad to meet you. Arden shook Nelson’s hand. What time did you discover the body? He took a small notebook and pen from his pocket.

It was a little before one o’clock. Our security system should be able to give you a more precise time.

Arden looked at the station behind him. I imagine it keeps track of everyone’s arrival and departure, correct?

Stint nodded. Yes, it does.

Charlie, what is your interest in Cognigate?

I manage the insurance for Cognigate. Steven Gadweils and MT Day are investors and directors, and they expect me to look out for their interests.

Sergeant Walker entered the lobby. Removing his face mask, he hurried to join the group. Sheriff, good to see you again. He shook Arden’s hand and met the captain.

Gentlemen, Steven interrupted, will you need me for anything? I think I’ll get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.

I think we have everything we need, Mr. Gadweils, Stint said.

Well, let me look things over first, Arden said. Can you give me a few minutes?

Of course, Sheriff.

I’m afraid the security procedures in the lab are fairly severe, Sheriff. Stint stepped closer to the security scanner. You will need to follow our protocol. Everyone who enters must leave their cell phones, radios, firearms, and other equipment in our lockup. They will be scanned and wear cleanroom suits to preserve the working environment. Is that a problem?

Sheriff Arden looked sternly at Agent Stint, then turned to Captain Cochran. Cochran shrugged and started removing his gear. I guess so, Agent Stint. Seems a little excessive, but since we’re only here to report the death, we’ll comply.

Thank you. Please step up to the counter one at a time. Stint walked through the scanner and waited for them at the door to the changing room.

As Cochran went through the security procedure, Arden motioned for two sheriff officers to accompany him, a man and a woman. I don’t think we will need more than two. The rest of you can return to your duties, he said to the other officers.

Cochran motioned to the other HPD officers, and they left with the sheriff officers.

Ten minutes later, everyone had changed into bunny suits. They took the elevator to the second floor, and Nelson led them into his workspace. After introducing Agent Milstein, he took them to George’s body. George is behind his workstation.

Everyone waited nearby as Cochran, Arden, and the two sheriff officers approached the body.

Patty, you examine him first, Arden said to the female officer and stepped aside.

Patty kneeled next to George’s body and removed his hood. Underneath, George was wearing something like a rubber racing helmet, except it had dozens of electrical contacts protruding from the cap. What is this?

That’s an ECap. Nelson joined them. Cognigate developed it to do research, and it works like a normal EEG device that monitors brainwave activity. It is top secret. Please do not do more than mention it in your reports.

Can I remove it? she asked.

Let me turn it off first. Nelson kneeled next to George and flipped a tiny switch on the side of the ECap.

Patty peeled off George’s ECap and noticed black lines on his forehead where the edge of the ECap had been. She started to put the ECap on the floor, but Nelson took it from her instead.

The markings ensure that the cap is put on in the same exact location each time we use it. Nelson pushed his hood back, pointing to the same marks on his head.

Patty checked George for a pulse. He’s warm to the touch, and rigor mortis hasn’t set in yet. I guess that he died about two hours ago. She stood and put on her glove.

Sheriff Arden looked at the electronic components, a notebook, and a computer near George’s workstation. On the countertop, directly above George, a circuit board was situated near small tools, a soldering iron, and a dozen components. Looks like this is what he was working on.

Yes, I think so. Nelson turned the iron off.

Arden gazed around the room until he saw security cameras every thirty feet. Can we look at the video from the security cameras?

Yes, we were about to do that when everyone started arriving. It’s in the security office. Nelson walked toward the door, still carrying George’s ECap.

Ah, Nelson, let’s leave the ECap here. It’s part of the evidence. Charlie reached for the ECap. Nelson hesitated, then let Charlie take it. Charlie put it on George’s workstation and joined the others.

Nelson led them to a door farther down the hallway. Punching codes into the security system, Nelson led them into a large workspace and turned right toward another door. Near shelves of equipment and supplies, he entered a code to open another door. It’s in here.

The small security office had racks of monitors in front of three stations. Thirty monitors showed views of the building, inside and outside. Our chief of security, who works for Calys Security, uses this station. His name is Captain Henry Burdette. Nelson pulled out