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.In line with that, I have several possible recommendations…CLASSIFIED: LOOKING GLASS EYES ONLYChapter NineYusuf Mohammad Patel, arrested four weeks ago on charges of terrorism, claimed in a court hearing that his mind was read by government agents without his consent.This marks the third such claim surrounding the New York City Dirty Bombers, a claim that has been roundly dismissed by the government.In a statement issued to the media, the NSA stated that while some evidence had to remain secret for reasons of national security, the evidence discovered with the bombers was enough to convict them.-AP News Report, 2015“So tell me,” Professor Benjamin Zeller said, “how are we today?”Elizabeth Tyler scowled at him.Zeller looked rather like a genial – and mobile – version of President Roosevelt, but his smile concealed a razor-sharp mind and an obsession with the paranormal that led him to spend his own money on his private quest.Elizabeth knew that she shouldn’t mind too much – after all, his money was helping her get through college – yet he could be irritating, all the more so when she had a date with her boyfriend lined up in a few hours.Two years ago, when she had moved to college to study for her degree, she had underestimated how much it cost to maintain a respectable student lifestyle.She’d blown through her funds alarmingly quickly and had been reduced to begging her parents for money, a source that had started to dry up after the third time she’d gone home, hat in hand.It was hard to get good jobs while being a student and some of the jobs were downright sleazy.As a young brunette with a perfect figure – or so she considered herself – she was a magnet for all kinds of indecent proposals.One recruiter had even offered her dollars for posing naked on a website.She had been seriously considering the offer – she had been that desperate – when a friend had pointed her to Professor Zeller’s program.Elizabeth hadn’t expected much, but the reward had been surprisingly high.They’d been offered fifty dollars just for completing a test.Elizabeth had been surprised to be called back a few days later by the Professor himself, who had explained that her tests scores had been very high and offered to work with her to develop her psychic abilities.Elizabeth had been stunned.It wasn’t uncommon for college students to be given all kinds of tests and she honestly hadn’t realised that the test she’d undergone had been intended to measure ESP.She’d thought it was just an odd survey for psychological research.It had crossed her mind that it was a joke – or another attempt by a lecturer of dubious integrity to get her into bed – but she’d been offered a hundred dollars for each successive test.That, she’d decided, was too much for a joke.“Tired and headachy,” she said, finally.The headache had been pounding in her temples all day, despite swallowing twice the recommended level of painkillers.“Do you think that we could get on with it? I have to be home early tonight.”“Of course, of course,” Zeller said.He smiled as he passed her the first set of cards.“Shall we play a game or two first to lighten the mood, or should we get straight on with the program?”Elizabeth hesitated, and then nodded.She hadn’t played Snap since she’d been a little girl, but playing with Professor Zeller was surprisingly fun – and challenging.The professor had no sense of chivalry when it came to playing games and never let her win.It was an attitude she wished, sometimes, that her boyfriend shared.Ron would take her bowling, or playing pool, and then throw the game, allowing her to win easily.It just wasn’t challenging.The Professor dealt out the cards and chattered away about nothing as he sorted them out into two piles.He’d actually altered the rules of the game slightly, providing no less than four different ways of calling snap, although Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it added anything to the game.She tried to push the headache to the back of her mind as she bent over her cards, watching as he placed his first card down gently, but it refused to fade.It only grew stronger as she put down her own cards, watching carefully for the first matched set.The shout, when it finally came, was loud enough to send new shivers of pain through her head.“I win,” Professor Zeller said.Elizabeth was tempted to remind him that she had a headache and therefore couldn’t be expected to win, yet such excuses never worked with Zeller.He’d pointed out, to one of his other students, that life not only wasn’t fair, but also never gave second chances.One couldn’t expect to come back from the grave just because one had had a headache when crossing the road and therefore missed the bus barrelling towards a fatal impact.“Shall we move on to the other tests now?”Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, hoping that the pain would fade soon.“All right,” she said.A sudden stab of pain through her head made her feel as if she was going to be sick, all of a sudden.“Let’s get on with it.”Professor Zeller brought out the big table and waved for her to sit in one of the chairs.There was no way to see what his hands were doing on the other side, or the cards he was studying, forcing her to try to guess at what card was in his hand.The test confused her at times, but then.it was his money and it sure beat flipping burgers for a living, or selling her body on the streets.“So tell me,” he said, after a moment.“What card am I holding?”Elizabeth took a wild guess.“The four of hearts,” she said.She allowed some of her anger and pain to slip into her voice.“What card are you holding?”Professor Zeller didn’t answer, but then he never did.They ran through all fifty-two cards, the Professor keeping score on a sheet of paper, and then repeated the process, by which time Elizabeth’s headache had grown to alarming proportions.She found herself slurring the words, her vision fading in and out.and he barely caught her before she slid off her chair and hit the floor.For a moment, she was sure that she had blacked out, as she awoke lying on the couch, a nervous face peering down at her.“You fainted for a moment,” the Professor said.Somehow, she didn’t doubt his words.“How are you feeling now?”Elizabeth stared up at him.The pain in her head had faded away, but it had been replaced by an odd background noise, like millions of voices murmuring away just quietly enough to be heard yet too low for her to pick out individual words [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.In line with that, I have several possible recommendations…CLASSIFIED: LOOKING GLASS EYES ONLYChapter NineYusuf Mohammad Patel, arrested four weeks ago on charges of terrorism, claimed in a court hearing that his mind was read by government agents without his consent.This marks the third such claim surrounding the New York City Dirty Bombers, a claim that has been roundly dismissed by the government.In a statement issued to the media, the NSA stated that while some evidence had to remain secret for reasons of national security, the evidence discovered with the bombers was enough to convict them.-AP News Report, 2015“So tell me,” Professor Benjamin Zeller said, “how are we today?”Elizabeth Tyler scowled at him.Zeller looked rather like a genial – and mobile – version of President Roosevelt, but his smile concealed a razor-sharp mind and an obsession with the paranormal that led him to spend his own money on his private quest.Elizabeth knew that she shouldn’t mind too much – after all, his money was helping her get through college – yet he could be irritating, all the more so when she had a date with her boyfriend lined up in a few hours.Two years ago, when she had moved to college to study for her degree, she had underestimated how much it cost to maintain a respectable student lifestyle.She’d blown through her funds alarmingly quickly and had been reduced to begging her parents for money, a source that had started to dry up after the third time she’d gone home, hat in hand.It was hard to get good jobs while being a student and some of the jobs were downright sleazy.As a young brunette with a perfect figure – or so she considered herself – she was a magnet for all kinds of indecent proposals.One recruiter had even offered her dollars for posing naked on a website.She had been seriously considering the offer – she had been that desperate – when a friend had pointed her to Professor Zeller’s program.Elizabeth hadn’t expected much, but the reward had been surprisingly high.They’d been offered fifty dollars just for completing a test.Elizabeth had been surprised to be called back a few days later by the Professor himself, who had explained that her tests scores had been very high and offered to work with her to develop her psychic abilities.Elizabeth had been stunned.It wasn’t uncommon for college students to be given all kinds of tests and she honestly hadn’t realised that the test she’d undergone had been intended to measure ESP.She’d thought it was just an odd survey for psychological research.It had crossed her mind that it was a joke – or another attempt by a lecturer of dubious integrity to get her into bed – but she’d been offered a hundred dollars for each successive test.That, she’d decided, was too much for a joke.“Tired and headachy,” she said, finally.The headache had been pounding in her temples all day, despite swallowing twice the recommended level of painkillers.“Do you think that we could get on with it? I have to be home early tonight.”“Of course, of course,” Zeller said.He smiled as he passed her the first set of cards.“Shall we play a game or two first to lighten the mood, or should we get straight on with the program?”Elizabeth hesitated, and then nodded.She hadn’t played Snap since she’d been a little girl, but playing with Professor Zeller was surprisingly fun – and challenging.The professor had no sense of chivalry when it came to playing games and never let her win.It was an attitude she wished, sometimes, that her boyfriend shared.Ron would take her bowling, or playing pool, and then throw the game, allowing her to win easily.It just wasn’t challenging.The Professor dealt out the cards and chattered away about nothing as he sorted them out into two piles.He’d actually altered the rules of the game slightly, providing no less than four different ways of calling snap, although Elizabeth wasn’t sure if it added anything to the game.She tried to push the headache to the back of her mind as she bent over her cards, watching as he placed his first card down gently, but it refused to fade.It only grew stronger as she put down her own cards, watching carefully for the first matched set.The shout, when it finally came, was loud enough to send new shivers of pain through her head.“I win,” Professor Zeller said.Elizabeth was tempted to remind him that she had a headache and therefore couldn’t be expected to win, yet such excuses never worked with Zeller.He’d pointed out, to one of his other students, that life not only wasn’t fair, but also never gave second chances.One couldn’t expect to come back from the grave just because one had had a headache when crossing the road and therefore missed the bus barrelling towards a fatal impact.“Shall we move on to the other tests now?”Elizabeth rubbed her forehead, hoping that the pain would fade soon.“All right,” she said.A sudden stab of pain through her head made her feel as if she was going to be sick, all of a sudden.“Let’s get on with it.”Professor Zeller brought out the big table and waved for her to sit in one of the chairs.There was no way to see what his hands were doing on the other side, or the cards he was studying, forcing her to try to guess at what card was in his hand.The test confused her at times, but then.it was his money and it sure beat flipping burgers for a living, or selling her body on the streets.“So tell me,” he said, after a moment.“What card am I holding?”Elizabeth took a wild guess.“The four of hearts,” she said.She allowed some of her anger and pain to slip into her voice.“What card are you holding?”Professor Zeller didn’t answer, but then he never did.They ran through all fifty-two cards, the Professor keeping score on a sheet of paper, and then repeated the process, by which time Elizabeth’s headache had grown to alarming proportions.She found herself slurring the words, her vision fading in and out.and he barely caught her before she slid off her chair and hit the floor.For a moment, she was sure that she had blacked out, as she awoke lying on the couch, a nervous face peering down at her.“You fainted for a moment,” the Professor said.Somehow, she didn’t doubt his words.“How are you feeling now?”Elizabeth stared up at him.The pain in her head had faded away, but it had been replaced by an odd background noise, like millions of voices murmuring away just quietly enough to be heard yet too low for her to pick out individual words [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]