AREM Chapter Three

“Alright, let’s get down to business.” Mitch plunked his laptop onto the table and slid into the chair across from Justine. “What’s up? Or did I just dream up that odd phone call from last night?”

“You didn’t dream it,” Justine tossed her head. “And it might be nothing… but… at risk of sounding like a strange cartoon character, there’s something funny going on ‘round here.”

“Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,” Mitch drawled, his face deadpanned.

“Something is fishy in the state of Massachusetts, I believe,” Justine matched his tone, trying to hide her contagious smile. 

“I mean, that would make sense,” Mitch shrugged. “There are fish everywhere around here. Perhaps it was clam chowder that got spilled last night when you ran into Mr. Charles and not coffee.”

“Disgusting.” Justine wrinkled her nose. “Don’t mention that foul stuff around me.”

“Alright, caviar then. Now what was this thing you wanted to show me?”

“It’s a memo from Galaxy’s parent company… Andromeda. Kind of a strange name for a company, if you ask me. I don’t like it…” she shuddered and Mitch chuckled. 

“Now who’s being paranoid?”

“I’m serious, Mitch. Here, look at this… It’s called Operation Think Tank. And that also sounds strange.”

“Nothing terribly strange about that… a think tank is just an organization that conducts research…”

“But the kind of research, Mitch… look at this! They’re trying to convert brain waves to radio waves…” She lowered her voice.  “And they want to reverse the process…”

“Reverse the… hold on a sec… gimme that,” Mitch reached for the paper and read it hastily. “Converting radio waves to brain waves… why on earth would anyone want to do something like that? Radio waves to…” He glanced up at Justine. She was studying his face, her eyes wide and frightened. He leaned his head closer to hers as he whispered… “That sounds like some form of mind control.”

Justine sat back in her chair, her face growing a shade paler. Her head seemed to be spinning and she couldn’t seem to think properly. Mitch’s words had set her skin crawling and she tried to shake off the feeling. 

“So… now what?” She was whispering too, as if afraid to speak aloud. 

“So…” Mitch frowned and leaned his head in his hands, pressing circles into his forehead. “So… we try to find more information.”

“And how do we do that?”

“Research.” Mitch opened his laptop. “Lots of research. This could be all some sort of mistake… I mean, who knows what this memo is? But it definitely sounds…”

“Suspicious.”

“Yeah.” Mitch was already typing busily. 

“What if I… maybe I could… say something to Mr. Charles?” Justine faltered. “I mean… this is his paper, he must know more about it…”

“Don’t.” Mitch’s voice was firm, almost sharp. “At the very least, he’d be upset that you didn’t return the paper right away. It’s just not a good idea.”

oOo

That day it was Mitch who called Justine in the middle of the night. She was glad to be up… the phone ringing had interrupted horrible, restless nightmares. She dragged herself from bed, stumbling towards the phone, trying to shut out the nightmare images that still echoed through her mind… 

“Boy, am I glad to hear your voice,” she gasped into the phone. “This has been a terrible night…”

“Are you okay?” Mitch sounded concerned. “What’s up?”

“I’m up now, thank goodness,” she took a deep breath as she curled into her beanbag chair. She turned her back to the pitch-black window and scooped up a pillow, hugging it tight. “Just… really bad dreams. Everything was black and foggy, like really thick fog, and there were radio towers all over the whole world… all connected somehow… they were controlling people… and everyone was like evil clones… they pushed me off a cliff… and I was falling and falling and falling, and I could hear your voice somewhere up above me, calling my name, but I couldn’t see you… ugh, it was dreadful, Mitch…”

“Oh my word,” Mitch breathed. The line fell silent for a long moment. Justine hugged the pillow tightly, resting her cheek against it. Her hair fell in tangled waves over her face but she made no move to brush it away.

“I’ve been doing some of that research,” Mitch finally spoke again. “Been at it since I got home. There’s stuff going on for sure, Justine… I think you’ve stumbled on something big.”

“So… do we tell someone? Get help? What all did you find out?”

“No, not yet. We’d better just lay low, keep going about our business as if nothing was up. The brain waves to radio waves and vice versa, it’s a real thing. I’m not sure what they’re doing with it yet… this will take a lot of work…”

“How do you even find this stuff?” Justine laughed. “Hack everyone’s computers?” She meant it as a joke, but Mitch’s answer came back deadly serious.

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding, right?” He didn’t reply for a long time and she waited in silence, nearly squeezing the stuffing out of her poor pillow. She pulled it away for a moment and grinned ruefully at it… the pillow was in the shape of a chipmunk… a birthday gift from Mitch. All her squishing had made it lopsided and she smooshed it back into shape before hugging it tightly again. 

“Let’s meet again tomorrow after work?” Mitch asked. “And promise me you won’t say anything to anybody about all of this…”

“Okay…” Justine frowned. “Mitch… can we pray about it together? I’m… I’m scared…”

“Of course. That should be the first thing we do.”