Suspicious Minds (Stranger Things Novels #1) - Gwenda Bond Page 0,2

Dr. Brenner says.”

They dispersed. They were learning.

The first room housed a subject ineligible for the draft due to a clubfoot. He had the permanently fried look of someone whose disengagement tool of choice was marijuana. Average in every way.

“Do you want us to dose the next patient?” Dr. Moses asked. He plainly didn’t understand Dr. Brenner’s methods.

“I will tell you when I need something.”

Dr. Moses nodded and they proceeded through five more rooms. It was as he expected. Two women, neither exceptional in any way; three more men, completely unexceptional. Except perhaps in their lackluster quality.

“Gather everyone in a room so we can talk,” Dr. Brenner said.

He was left to wait in a conference room, with a last nervous glance from Dr. Moses. Soon enough, the group from before entered and arranged themselves around the table. A couple of men tried to make conversation in order to pretend none of the morning’s events were unusual. Dr. Moses shushed them.

“That’s all of us,” he said.

Dr. Brenner gave his staff a closer look. They would need work, but there was potential in their quiet attention. Fear and authority went hand in hand.

“All the test subjects I met this morning can be dismissed.” He waved a hand. “Pay them whatever they were promised and ensure they remember their nondisclosure agreements.”

The room absorbed this. One of the conversationalists from before raised his hand. “Doctor?”

“Yes?”

“My name is Chad and I’m new to this, but…why? How will we do our experiments?”

“ ‘Why’ is always a question that moves science forward,” Dr. Brenner said. Chad the newbie nodded, and Brenner added, “Although one should be careful about asking it of your superiors. But I will tell you why. It’s important we all understand what we’re here to do. Does anyone have a guess?”

His treatment of Chad kept them quiet. He thought for a moment the woman might speak up, but she simply folded her hands in front of her.

“Good,” he said. “I don’t like guesswork. We’re here to advance the frontiers of human capability. I don’t want the common Mus musculus of humans. They are not going to give us extraordinary results.” He swept a gaze around the room. Everyone was intent. “I’m sure you’ve heard of some of the foibles elsewhere, and your own lack of results are why I’m here. There have been embarrassments, and a great many of them can be sourced to inadequate subjects. Whoever thought prisoners and the asylum-bound would tell us anything we need to know were fooling themselves. Draft dodgers and potheads aren’t any better. I have a few more young patients transferring here for a related program, but I’d like a range of ages. There is every reason to believe that a combination of chemical psychedelics and the right inducements can unlock the secrets we need. Think of the intelligence advantages alone if we can persuade our enemies to talk, if we can make them suggestible and exert control…But we can’t get the results we want without the right people, period. It is nothing to manipulate a weak mind. We need those with potential.”

“But…where will we get them?” Chad asked.

Brenner made a mental note to have him dismissed at the end of the day. He leaned forward. “I will set forth a new screening protocol for identification of better candidates from our feeder universities, and then select the subjects we use going forward myself. Soon, your real work here begins.”

No one objected. Yes, they were learning.

1.

Terry pushed open the screen door and winced at the fragrant haze of smoke inside the apartment. Her waitress uniform—reddish pink with a white apron—would go from smelling like stray grease spatters and coffee spills from the diner to smelling like weed in no time. She added laundry to the next day’s list. At least summer session meant less homework.

“Finally, babe, you’re here!” Andrew waved to her as he handed off a joint to the person next to him. His enthusiastic greeting earned him a smile. His brown hair had gotten long and shaggy and it cradled his jaw on either side like parentheses; she liked it. It made him look a little dangerous.

“Did I miss anything good?” she asked, shimmying through the crowd as the people she knew said hi. Her sister, Becky, sat in the recliner, glued to the 19-inch black-and-white television Andrew’s friend Dave had gotten as a hand-me-down from his old man after he upgraded to a new color screen for this momentous occasion. Apollo 11 had landed that