6. The Results Are In
1005 Words
The Results Are In
Washington, D.C., January 2028
Everyone was in attendance when Barney entered the meeting. "Good morning," he said as he made his way toward the front of the room. "It's Tuesday. Time to update your résumés."
"What's that supposed to mean?" the scientist next to Ginesh asked.
"It means that if we don't have positive news by the end of next week, we'll be out of money in a month."
Murmurs rolled around the room, disrupting the silence. "Any chance of funding?" Nancy asked.
"None that are realistic," Barney said. He seemed to give it more thought, then said, "Maybe one. Keith told me about a possibility dealing with neurological research. But it seems like a long shot."
“If we’re going to be looking for job, can we count on you for recommendations?" a scientist next to Nancy asked.
"Of course. Pick up one of my cards on your way out. It has my email and cell phone number on it. You can use that for references. And we'll have an outplacement advisor working with HR next week, starting on Wednesday."
"What's the possibility Mr. Ratcliff was talking about?" Ginesh asked.
"Something to do with making a person receptive to suggestions. I'm sure it's government related; Keith has a lot of ties there. And besides, the government is always looking for a way to get people to do things that they don't want to do."
“Despite the sinister implications, tell us more of what he wants," Ginesh said. "None of us want to leave the city." Ginesh looked around at the other scientists. "At least, I don't think we do."
Barney waited until it got quiet in the room, then he said, "We need a drug to make people susceptible to suggestions, like before they go to bed or something. I think the government wants to have a way of extracting secrets from foreign diplomats. It’s cold-war spy stuff, but it still happens today. It’s a fact of life.”
"So nothing's changed?" Nancy said.
Barney shook his head. "Nothing—including our test results. Now get to work and find me something I can take to Mr. Ratcliff.”
A week had gone by, and Ginesh and Nancy were once again busy crunching numbers, doing the final results of the clinical trial for stroke patients.
Ginesh was busy entering data when Nancy interrupted. "I'm halfway done and not much has changed. I don't see any improvement."
"I don't see any either, but there is one difference. I've run across notes on twenty-one patients who reported having vivid dreams—”
"What's the big deal with vivid dreams? I have them all of the time."
Ginesh sighed. "If you had let me finish...They were having vivid dreams that were identical to what they were thinking about right before going to bed. That's similar to what Barney said they were looking for."
Nancy stopped what she was doing and turned to face Ginesh. "What? Let me see the reports."
Ginesh handed her the papers. She leaned back in the chair and began reading. "Twenty-one is a pretty significant number. I wouldn't have raised an eyebrow if it had only been a few, but twenty-one..."
“Is a lot," Ginesh said. "My thoughts exactly. Especially since this hasn't happened before."
"But what's different? Why now?" Nancy said. "If you look at these results, you have to wonder why. Why did something change now? Same people, same circumstances, same..."
She set the papers on the desk and glared at Ginesh. "You upped the dosage, didn't you? You did it without telling me." She stood, walked over, and poked him in the chest. "You son of a b***h. If somebody dies, it's on your ass."
Ginesh held up his hands, as if in surrender. "Nobody's going to die. Besides, it's like I said, they're old anyway."
"They have a goddamn life," Nancy said. "Some of them have fun. They laugh. They read. They joke and play games. It's not your call as to who lives and who dies. It's your job to keep them as safe as you can."
"Okay. We'll worry about safety if something happens. If not, we'll reap the rewards."
"What rewards? We haven't gotten anything. All we've got are some people having dreams, for Christ's sake. What good is that? We don't even know what caused the dreams to start, although we might presume it was your increased dosage."
Ginesh threw up his hands. "It's not that they're having dreams, Nancy. It's what they're having dreams about. They're dreaming about their thoughts just prior to going to sleep. I know that some people do that and it's not that uncommon, but if you read the notes, these people didn't do that before, which means something changed. And that something might be the drug. And if it's because of the increased dosage, great. If it's not that, we'll find out what it is."
"Okay, even if I buy into your theory, so what? What good does that do us?"
"Think. You heard Barney at the meeting. Keith is working on a new research contract, and I think we can safely assume it's for the government. They're looking at neurological suggestion. This might tie in somehow. If these people are dreaming about things they were thinking about just prior to bed, isn't that a form of suggestion? Maybe we're only a few tweaks away from something that works."
"Yeah, and we might be a few years away, too. Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
"How are we going to test this further without knowing exactly what they want?"
"I don't know yet, but we need to tell Barney about it; he'll know what to do. I'm sure that once he knows what is involved, he'll tell us what we need to know."
Ginesh caught up with Barney in the parking lot after work. He explained the data results, and he added his interpretation. "If these people are dreaming about what they were just thinking prior to bedtime, that's a form of suggestion isn't it?"
Barney leaned back agaInst the car and folded his hands across his chest. "That's a good question, Ginesh. I'll mention it to Keith. At this point anything is worth exploring."
Ginesh smiled. "Good. I don't want to update my résumé."
"Me neither," Barney said. "I'll get back to you in a few days. Have a good night."
"You too, Mr. Franklin. And thanks for listening."
"Nonsense. Thank you for thinking."
- Writer
