SIGHT
(Seducer Part 8- Chapter 39 of Senses)
Angie reacted to A.J.'s gym the same way most people would, with wonder. Angie did a few experimental jumps on the canvas floor, then began to laugh aloud. "This is fun!" she exclaimed. "It must have cost a fortune."
"I'm fairly wealthy," A.J. replied. He had started jumping on the canvas himself.
"What does this have to do with your ability?"
"Move into a corner and we'll show you." Angie joined Karen and Carrie on the far side of the gym, while Jim joined A.J.
"What do you know about gravity?" Jim asked.
"There's no such thing as gravity," Angie said. "The Earth sucks."
Everyone laughed. "Your sense of humor has returned I see," Karen pointed out.
"Do you believe gravity is constant?" Jim asked. "That there are laws that must be conformed to regarding physics?"
Angie looked confused. "I suppose so," she said.
"Well, you'd be right." Jim bounced twice and fell up to the ceiling. After bouncing twice on the ceiling, he fell back to the floor, then forced himself to float at a height of eight feet, folding his feet into the lotus position.
Angie was flabbergasted. She found herself unable to say anything in response. She sat down as A.J. launched into a series of back flips that floated him up to the ceiling, then fell to the floor and bounced up to join Jim in the center of the room.
"Now you see," Jim said, "you must realize that we trust you. We do not want people to know that we can do this, just as you really don't want anyone to know about your abilities."
Angie slowly nodded. "I've been treated as a freak before," she said. "I see your point."
"Something I don't get," Carrie said. "According to the story you told us, you're a tabloid celebrity yourself. Why didn't they say anything about your past when that story appeared?"
"I'd expect it any time now," Jim replied. "They're going to love this when they find out."
"Your fan mail is about to increase exponentially."
Angie shook her head and stared into the center of the room where Jim and A.J. hung. "You can fly?" she almost shouted.
A.J. laughed and fell to the ground. "No we can't," he said as he stood on the floor, "but I can see where you'd think so. What we do is far more complicated, and like you we use our brains to cause it. We think to cause it to happen. We change the values in physics equations."
"That isn't possible," Angie replied.
"Yes it is," Jim said from his perch. "Think about the formula you might know for gravity. What if the values in the formula change? Even the constants. Wouldn't that change how gravity reacts?"
"I don't know."
"Well that is how it is. We know this for a fact. What we do is create a field of gravity opposing the gravity of our planet. Imagine another planet directly above me with the mass of the Earth. I'm just floating between them."
"Wow!"
"An understatement," A.J. said. "Thing is, we can only do it to ourselves, by ourselves. That's why none of you are floating with Jim now."
"How do you do it?" Angie asked.
"We don't really know," A.J. said. "What we think is that we change an equation in physics, as it relates to ourselves, and that effects the change."
"You can do it at will?"
Jim nodded. "At will," he replied. "Thing is, we don't know why it works the way it does. We think that because both of us were raised with a bit of a scientific background we think the way we do, but when we first ran across Karen we discovered that she does it differently, although we haven't thought about it much until in the last few days."
"Speak for yourself brother," A.J. said, "I've been thinking about it for a long time. The problem has been to convince you to work on this again."
"Time out!" Angie shouted. "You left me at the corner shop. What the hell are you talking about?"
Jim laughed, and allowed himself to fall and bounce until he lay on the floor. "It's a long story," he said.
"Can it be condensed?" Angie asked.
"Not well," A.J. said, "but we'll try. Jim?"
For the next hour Jim told the story of how he met Karen, and the experiments that took place over the following months that put A.J. in jail and stopped their progress cold. At times Angie would ask for a clarification, especially during the points of the experiments with Karen augmenting Jim's emotive centers, but made no comments until Jim had finished.
"So here you are," Angie said after hearing the tale. "You can't fly, and whatever method A.J. found is for all intents and purposes out of the question. Obviously something has changed, otherwise you wouldn't be bringing me up here, or talking about starting again."
"Right," A.J. said. "The darts match the night we met you was a wager to begin experimenting again. To be honest, I hadn't expected to win."
"But that was when I first started using my ability on Jim," Angie commented.
"Right," Jim replied. "As a result, I wasn't quite myself, and missed a throw I ordinarily wouldn't have."
Angie shook her head. "And you'd had at least sixteen drinks by that point. What is your upper limit on alcohol?"
Jim smiled. "I honestly don't know. I think that my ability to tolerate large amounts of Bushmill's is a side effect of the ability, because A.J. can drink almost as much as I do."
"You hinted that you two aren't the same during your story. What are the differences?"
"Our eyesight," A.J. said.
"A.J. can actually see the equations," Karen said. "This allows him to analyze the things they do."
"What I actually see are the chemical reactions, or at least the formulaeic representations to everything that happens. My entire eyesight is like that."
"I don't follow," Angie said.
"I mean that when I look at you I don't exactly see you. I see a pattern of equations that I interpret to represent you. I also have a three dimensional graph over it, although Jim has one too when he tries hard enough."
Angie was horrified. "How can you see that way?"
"How can you see in yours? I was born with this, so I don't know anything different. I'm quite used to it."
"What's it like?"
"It's hard to equate to what I don't know, so I'll have to use Jim's approximation of how he thinks it is. He thinks my eyesight is like some of the later Van Gogh works, with the heavy brushstrokes. I'll have to take his word for it, the Van Gogh stuff looks like colored squiggles to me."
"We're getting off topic," Carrie prompted. "Show her what we're trying to do."
"Right," A.J. said. "I've been setting up a lab to analyze brain patterns and chemical reactions, so that we can determine exactly what it is that's going on in our skulls."
Angie nodded thoughtfully. "That would have to be one hell of a lab," she said.
"Want to see what we've got?" A.J. asked.
A.J. led the troop to the living room and the computer and projection screen A.J. had shown to Jim three days previous. He turned on the computer and after the G chord and the system boot up he began the simulation to demonstrate the simulation of a scanned brain.
"What we're trying to do here," A.J. continued, "is scan the brain while it is involved in certain activities, including the paranormal activities, and over time work out an average and figure out which synapses are firing at what times to create the things that happen when we do what we do."
"A scan like this would take forever," Angie said. "Is this done by radio waves?"
"Yes it is. One of our compatriots in this venture is a computer programmer, among other things. He designed the system and the computer simulation. However, you are right. It takes an awful long time. What I was thinking about was do a large number of scans and try to work out an average."
"You'll be an old man by the time you figure out anything." Angie paced around the room. "Where's the lab?"
"This is it," A.J. said. "The scanning gear is part of the computer."
Angie shook her head. "This won't do at all," she said.
Jim smiled his ironic smile. "Does this mean you're in?" he asked.
Angie nodded. "I'm in. This is fascinating."
A.J. was frowning. "What's wrong with the setup?"
"Would you like a shopping list? First of all, you need more than one scanner. In my opinion, you should have at least a dozen, and as many more as you can fit into the space necessary. If your computer programmer can come up with this he can certainly come up with a program to separate combined radio waves."
"What about the size of the transmitting and receiving gear?"
"Ever heard of mirrors? Radio waves will reflect." Angie was pacing again. "Get a pencil and paper and write this down. You'll need an EKG machine, blood analysis gear, probably a million other pieces of medical gear. Are you rich enough to handle this?"
Jim roared with laughter. "She's got your number bro'," he said.
A.J. was confused and he showed it. "What do we need all this shit for?" he asked. "I can see the need for multiple radio waves, but an EKG?"
"Look," Angie replied, "it's not just the brain, but the condition of the brain and body that matters. You two drink like it's going out of style; maybe that has something to do with it. Besides, the health of the patient needs to be determined to be certain that controls are being established. You'll also need complete readings of non-paranormal people. So far that's just Carrie here."
"And Paul and Scott," Karen said. "Scott's the computer guy, by the way. A nicer goofball you will never meet."
"And Larry," A.J. said. "He'd love this, at least on an analytical level."
"You need a complete and controlled environment," Angie went on, "to conform to scientific standards. How do you even know it's the brain that is behind your skills?"
"That we can answer," Jim said. "A.J.'s weird eyesight, remember? This is at least ground we've broken."
"I'll concede that one. How many people are in on this project? How big a team are we?"
"Let's see...eight at present, with some provisos. Paul doesn't know about Karen's ability, and we'd like to keep it that way. This whole project was initially designed to discover more about us alone although we've expanded that somewhat. Larry we have no secrets from, but he doesn't know about you yet."
"If he's got your looks he can know," Angie quipped.
"I'll tell him you said that."
"He'll go running for the hills," A.J. said, laughing. "We can't count on Larry for much other than intellectual input anyway. He lives too far away."
"All right then, seven people," Angie counted off. "Jim, me, you," she pointed at A.J., "and Karen are the paranormals, while Carrie, Paul, and this computer person..."
"Scott," A.J. said.
"Whatever. Three people for a control group. That's not a lot to work with."
"It's all we've got," Carrie put in. "It'll have to do."
"True. Did you people at some point claim to have a scientific background? I remember words to that effect."
"We like to think so," Jim said. "Truth is, Karen's the only one of us besides you with a strong academic scientific background."
"Let me tell you what's wrong here," Angie said. "This looks like you're trying to set up an encyclopedia of what everything does. You'll never find out how anything works that way."
"I assume you have a suggestion," A.J. said.
"I do. Do several scans of all of us to determine steady states. With the extra modifications I plan to make you shouldn't need more than a dozen or so. Then do several scans with Karen in your skulls and see what the differences are. Then do the same with me in there for the same reason. Also, A.J., I'd like you to start writing down the equations you see with that strange eyesight of yours. Then we'll try to meet a goal or two. Give me a goal."
"I'll start keeping a log of equations," A.J. replied. "The goal should be solo flight. We can't do it without Karen now, although I'm curious to determine if we can do it with you."
"Add that to the list of things to do," Angie said. "Do we agree on our first goal? Solo flight?"
Everyone nodded, although Jim wasn't smiling like he usually did.
"What's wrong lover?" Karen asked.
"I still don't feel comfortable with the concept of trying all of this again," he replied. "I agree that it needs doing, but I wish there were a safer way to do it. I mean working in A.J.'s rubber room is one thing, but something on this scale will require that we work someplace else than one of these rooms. No offense A.J. but no one, not even either of us, are eccentric enough to pull off bringing the type of equipment we'd need into our homes. Michael Jackson couldn't have pulled it off in his most eccentric days."
A.J. thought for a moment. "We'll need to convert a warehouse somewhere," he said. "We should get Paul started on looking for a place. Maybe set up a dummy front company with ourselves as investors."
At that moment the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Carrie said. As she left the room A.J. said, "Sometimes when we get like this I feel bad, because it leaves her out."
"She must love you a lot to put up with this shit," Angie said.
Carrie returned with Paul Cynic in tow. Paul looked directly at Angie. "Are you in?" He asked.
Angie nodded, then walked over to face Paul directly.
"I'm sorry for the deception," Paul continued. "We couldn't think of any other way to find out for sure."
"What if I hadn't been the one?" Angie asked.
"Then I'd be apologizing a hell of a lot more than this."
Angie slapped Paul on the left cheek, which barely turned his head, then hugged Paul closely. "Thank you," she said, starting to cry. "Thank you for being a friend."
Paul let out a surprised laugh and rolled his eyes. "I'm going back to being a cynic from now on," he said to the room. "I'm a lot more comfortable in the role."
As the rest of the room broke into laughter, Angie included, Paul rolled his eyes for dramatic effect and made Angie let go of him.
"Apology accepted," Angie said.
"Good," Paul replied. "I looked into the laws regarding your medical license. I can't find any real reason for you not to have your license reinstated in the state of California."
"It's political," Angie said.
"I figured as much, so we'll need to take it to court. Fortunately, I do pro bono work from time to time."
Angie smiled and hugged Paul again, to Paul's protests and the general merriment of the rest of the room.
Once the laughter had died down, A.J. said, "Let's get started, shall we? Angie, what will this lab need?"
"Where's that pencil and paper?" Angie asked.
Later, after the meeting had broken up, Paul followed Jim and Karen to their Brentwood home so that Jim and Paul could talk music business.
They sat in the kitchen; Karen preparing a spaghetti dinner for the three of them while Jim and Paul sat drinking and discussing plans for the upcoming albums and Blue Shift tour, as well as the Moscow Show of World Aid. Jim drank Bushmill's, Paul a diet soda.
"Are we agreed that the Blue Shift album gets the first nod?" Paul asked.
"Agreed," Jim replied. "With the Moscow Show coming up I'd rather that the band get a priority."
"Fair enough. I'll schedule a press conference in a few weeks and we'll do a preview party. We can have the album released the week of the concert."
"That's pretty fast."
"Yeah, but you're the label's goldmine these days. So, let's invite the members of the press to your rehearsal studio and play a few songs for them. Talk about the album, plans for the tour, that kind of thing."
Jim smiled. "And a few surprises."
Paul raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yeah. A.J. and I have been talking, and he's going to play at the Moscow gig with us. We'll even do a few of The R & R Report songs. Didn't you once say that that region was the biggest area to find black market copies of that album?"
Paul clapped his hands together. "That it is," he said, "although finding a copy of The R & R Report isn't all that hard anymore. The gig will work though. The Los Angeles show is the first one, and they progress east over five days, so you'll have plenty of time to fly in for the Moscow show."
"What we were thinking was that the rest of the band will fly in first, and we'll fly in the following day."
"Speaking of which," Paul said, "I'll be flying in later in my private plane."
"Really?" Jim asked. "What's up?"
"My sister is in the country again, up in San Francisco. I'm going up to see her and find out where she's been for the last six months."
Karen turned away from the stove. "I didn't know you had a sister," she said.
"She's five years younger than me," Paul responded, "and generally lives the bohemian lifestyle of someone living off her parent's wealth. Thing is, it's my wealth that she lives off of. I've paid for school, travel, and I occasionally get her out of trouble. She's got a place up there now, so I thought I'd go see her when I had some free time. The only free time I can see coming is the week before the Moscow show, so I'm going up."
"She's a sweet kid," Jim added. "Remember that show in New York? We were partying pretty heavily and it didn't faze her one damn bit." He pointed to the stove. "Pot's overflowing."
Karen didn't turn around. "I know what I'm doing you pig," she said. "I don't bother you when you cook, you don't bother me when I cook, deal?"
"Deal."
Paul sipped his drink, while Jim poured himself another. "I need to get up to speed," Jim commented.
"Shall we have A.J. at the press conference?" Paul asked.
"We'll have to time it well. He wants to show up halfway through."
"Fair enough. Now then, about your albums..."
Jim laughed. "Here we go," he said.
"First," Paul counted off, "we're going to release the piano works album, three weeks after the Blue Shift album has entered the charts. Your regular fans will snap it up, but it won't be a mainstream release. We'll try to push it towards the album rock stations, but unless you want to go for the Jethro Tull 'edit' routine from 'Thick As A Brick', and I know you don't, airplay for this album will be virtually nil.
"Second, we'll release the remakes album two weeks after that. Hit the nostalgia wave that we seem to be going through these days, and release a single from it. Which song would you like to have hit the airwaves first?"
Jim considered for a moment. "Probably 'Don't Let Him Know', the old Prism song I've recorded," he answered. "Hit regular rock radio with that one, I'd think. It probably won't appeal to my mainstream audience as much, but it was a big hit on rock radio when the original came out."
Paul nodded. "Fair enough," he said. "Third, three weeks after that album hits the stores, we release the regular solo album, with the full push. By that time we'll have put out a second Blue Shift single and may be on our way to a third, depending upon radio reaction."
"Sounds like you've got it all worked out," Karen said. "Everybody hungry? We've got a lot of pasta here."
"No problem," Jim laughed. "By the way, I also know which single to release from the Blue Shift and my regular solo album. Release 'Secrets' from the Blue Shift album..."
"The label was thinking about 'Terror of Love'," Paul responded.
"I know, but face it, radio is going to overdose on Jim Christopher, and so is the general public. It's better if we release a song Jason sings. Besides, we'd all like to get reaction to the only song we've ever done with a horn section."
"Fair enough."
"For mine, release a song called 'Saint Christopher'."
Paul raised an eyebrow. "That title will cause a few heads to shake."
Jim finished his drink. "I'm counting on it," he said.
Karen sat a large bowl of spaghetti on the table and counted silently to five. On five Paul went "Arrrrgh!" and laughed himself. "You know the reason I have the reputation I do is because of working with you," Paul said, pointing a finger at Jim. "You do this shit on purpose!"
Jim toasted his friend and finished his drink. "Absofuckinglutely,"
he said, smiling.