First and Only (19 page)

‘Aye, sir,’ said the young
communications officer, trying to work some moisture into his dry mouth.

Commander Scott listened while
the unthinkable message was relayed. Then he watched as the young man at comms
queried something that Force Command had told him.

‘What is it?’

The young officer turned towards
him and slid the earphones back from his head.

‘Message received and understood,
sir,’ he said.

‘And…’ asked Commander Scott.

‘It’s not just us, sir,’ the
officer said. ‘It seems there’s another sub experiencing similar problems.’

‘Good God,’ said the Commander.
‘Which one?’

‘The USS Carolina, sir. It’s one
of the Americans’ Virginia Class attack subs.’

‘
The Carolina
,’ thought
Commander Scott. ‘
That’s Philip Kern’s boat
.’

Chapter 23

The mood in the secure interview room was charged with
disbelief.

‘And you expect us to believe
that?’ said the Chief Constable with contempt.

‘You have no choice,’ said
Psimon. ‘It’s the truth.’

‘
Psychic
,’ thought Chatham
incredulously. ‘
Nonsense! And yet…
’ he mused. ‘
It would certainly
explain a great many things.
’ And strangely, if it were true, it would make
him feel a good deal happier about the security of MI5. ‘Then again,  he
reflected, his thoughts racing ahead. If it were true then nothing would be
safe; not a secret, not a password, not a personal private thought… ‘
Christ
,’
he thought. ‘
That would be terrifying…
’

‘Yes, Mr Chatham,’ said Psimon,
fixing Chatham with his stone-grey eyes. ‘It would be terrifying.’

Chatham’s blood turned to ice.

‘And frightened people do frightening
things,’ Psimon added.

The rest of the ‘inquisition’
looked at Chatham who had turned markedly pale.

Psimon’s gaze moved down the line
from one scornful face to the next.

‘Dangerous? Vice Admiral Fallon,’
said Psimon. ‘Not unless you give me cause.’

The Vice Admiral raised a
menacing eyebrow.

Psimon continued down the line.

‘No, Chancellor. You could not
use it to your advantage.’

‘
Bullshit
is not what I
would call an intelligent response, Admiral Grant.’

‘And, Chief Constable McCormack,
if you think this is a ‘waste of time’ then I wonder that you are bothering to
hold me at all.’

The room echoed with a stunned
silence.

‘
Take that, you tossers!
’
thought Steve with just the hint of a smile on his stern face.

Psimon allowed the impact of his
impossible insight to sink in. He saw the fear and insecurity in their eyes;
the crumbling of their conviction that this could not be true. These men were
not accustomed to the sensation of vulnerability. It was not a feeling they
found comfortable, although some dealt with it better than others. Mr Chatham,
for instance, seemed as much fascinated as he did threatened. As for the
others… shock and surprise quickly gave way to fear and paranoia.

Psimon knew what was coming next.

‘Are you trying to intimidate us,
young man,’ said Admiral Grant suddenly. His voice, like his face, had a
gravelly quality to it.

Psimon held the admiral’s
implacable gaze.

‘Do you think you can impress us
with Victorian parlour tricks; a quick display of pocket-book psychology.’

Psimon said nothing. Despite
having known what to expect, he looked disappointed.

‘Just who the hell do you think
you are talking to?’ the admiral ground on.

With the exception of Chatham,
those seated on that side of the table seemed to sit up straighter as the admiral
took the helm.

‘You seem to have no
comprehension, whatsoever, of your situation.’

‘You are in a great deal of
trouble,’ added Chief Constable McCormack. ‘The best thing you can do is tell
us exactly how you breached MI5 security, why you did it, and the names of
anyone else involved.’

Psimon looked from one to the
next. They wanted answers; something they could understand. He could not give
them that.

‘You have to understand the
implications of what you did,’ said the Chancellor in a more conciliatory tone.
‘The figures you gave me were accurate to the last detail. No one makes
forecasts with that level of certainty. Forecasts work on trends, patterns,
complex mathematical algorithms but never with such precision.’

The Chancellor’s face effectively
portrayed the dismay that he was feeling inside and Psimon almost felt sorry
for him.

‘Do you have any idea of the
consequences of predictions like that?’

His wide eyes appealed to Psimon.

‘It would be disastrous!’ he
stated. ‘Trust and co-operation between nations would collapse. The normal flow
of international trade would be devastated.’

He threw up his arms as he voiced
the fears that had struck him like a thunderbolt over breakfast this morning.
Now his eyes beseeched Psimon.

‘I’m not talking about a blip on
the stock exchange,’ he said with quiet forcefulness. ‘World recession,
depression… that would be the least of it.’

‘I know,’ said Psimon so quietly
that only Steve heard him.

‘Wars have been started over
much, much less,’ the Chancellor concluded as if he could not believe how
irresponsible Psimon was being.

‘I know,’ said Psimon.

He spoke louder now, and to
Steve’s surprise there was something like contrition in his voice.

‘That’s why you were the first
person to know about it. That’s why I have asked Mr Chatham to arrange a
multinational symposium to examine the ramifications.’

All eyes turned to Richard
Chatham.

‘Err, yes,’ said Chatham
recovering quickly from being put on the spot. ‘Twenty-seven specialists from
thirteen different countries. They have been invited to attend the convention
to err…’ His words petered out.

Psimon came to his aid.

‘I possess abilities that I do
not understand.’ He looked up at the wall of rapt faces. ‘I am the first person
to possess such abilities,’ he went on. ‘I am the only person to possess such
abilities… but I may not be the last.’

Psimon’s grey eyes were as
fathomless as the sea.

‘The world needs an opportunity
to understand these things. To see what consequences they might have.’

There was no need to try and speculate
on what these ‘consequences’ might be. The fears raised by the Chancellor had
been but the tip of the iceberg.

Despite the varying degrees of
disbelief, indignation and outright hostility emanating from the questioning
panel, Psimon certainly had their undivided attention. He took a deep breath.

‘That is why I have decided to
put myself forward for study… to donate my body to science.’

As Psimon said this he pointedly
refused to look at Steve.

The line of questioners were
suitably stunned.

‘All I need from you is your
assurance that I will not be followed, detained or in any way constrained until
the commencement of the symposium in four days time.’

Psimon looked at the Chancellor
of the Exchequer.

‘But first, Chancellor,’ he said,
‘I need your signature on the immunity for Mr Brennus. I understand that you
have been authorised to endorse it in the absence of the Prime Minister.’

Chatham quickly flipped open his
briefcase and slid the immunity documents in front of the Chancellor. He turned
to the last page, indicated the blank space that awaited his signature, and
laid a pen across the page.

Steve turned in his seat to look
directly at Psimon. He certainly knew nothing about this!

The Chancellor stared at the
documents before him. This was not the way he had expected this meeting to go.
He had expected to encounter a frightened young man, thoroughly intimidated by
the weight of power ranged against him.

And yet... If what this ‘Psimon’
was telling them was true, then they needed to know more. They needed to know
everything. And if granting Mr Brennus immunity was the way to ensure full
co-operation then it was surely a small price to pay.

The Chancellor’s hand twitched as
he considered signing the form. Then he caught himself. What if this was all a
load of nonsense? What if this was a smoke screen for something else; something
more plausible, something unlawful. Surely that was more likely; surely genuine
psychic ability did not really exist.

Psimon watched as the Chancellor
talked himself back from the brink of the believing. Even after all these
years, he could still understand people’s doubts. It was just that now he could
no longer afford them.

Psimon looked down at the pen.

The Chancellor had come to his
senses. This young man should not be calling the shots. He represented the
British Government for God’s sake. Admiral Grant was right; this was all just
bullshi…

The pen rose up from the table
and the Chancellor’s burgeoning assertions were scattered to the winds.

The pen hung in mid air, point
down and rotating slowly as if it were hanging from an invisible thread. But
there was no thread, only incontrovertible proof that Psimon was telling the
truth. The pen angled itself to suit the Chancellor’s hand, poised to write.

Almost unconsciously the Chancellor
reached out to take the pen. His fingers closed around it and he felt the
vaguest sensation of having taken it from another’s hand. The point hovered
over the dotted line. Then the Chancellor made to write…

‘That’s enough for me,’ said Vice
Admiral Fallon suddenly.

He turned to Admiral Grant who
gave him a small nod of concurrence. Then he looked at Chief Constable
McCormack who raised a hand to one of the Special Branch officers. The henchman
gave a stiff nod and immediately left the room.

Both the Chancellor and Mr
Chatham looked concerned and surprised at this development. It was clear that
some prearranged agreement had been put into action. The Vice Admiral glanced
at them both before he spoke again.

‘The detainees are to be
transferred to a high security military facility without delay,’ he said by way
of explanation. ‘They will be kept in isolation until we convene a specialist
team to question them properly.’

‘On whose authority?’ asked the
Chancellor.

‘On the authority of the American
President,’ said Vice Admiral Fallon. ‘And that of your own Prime Minister.’

The words echoed in Psimon’s ears
but he did not really hear them. Once again he was absented from this place;
the light of his mind casting shadows of himself, shadows that were present elsewhere.

‘The Prime Minister said nothing
of this to me,’ the Chancellor objected.

‘The final decision was given to
us,’ explained Admiral Grant. ‘If we considered this matter to have defence
implications we were to respond accordingly.’

The situation had taken a serious
turn for the worse. Steve could keep silent no longer.

‘You can’t do this,’ he said.
‘Psimon’s no threat to you. He’s done nothing wrong.’

‘You misunderstand, Mr Brennus,’
said Vice Admiral Fallon. ‘This is not about the threat, nor is it a matter of
wrongdoing. This is about control.’

The Vice Admiral looked at Steve
as if he, of all people, should understand this.

‘Psimon represents a new entity,’
the Vice Admiral went on. ‘A new capability if you will. Governments have been
looking for years at the possibility of ESP and its applications, both military
and otherwise. But there has not been a single breakthrough, anywhere in the
world. The conclusion has always been that extra sensory powers did not exist.
But now…’

Here he looked again at Psimon,
and somewhere in the background a mobile phone began to ring.

 ‘…Now we know they do. And we
must make certain that it is we, and not our enemies, who control this new
capability.’ Then… ‘Will someone answer that damned phone,’ he barked.

‘But what will happen to Psimon?’
asked Mr Chatham as the American aid rummaged in his attaché case for source of
the insistent ringing.

‘Psimon will be detained and
studied,’ explained the Vice Admiral. ‘He will be treated well and housed in
comfort.’

‘But he will not be free?’
persisted Chatham.

Vice Admiral Fallon seemed to
have no problem with the scruples of this action.

‘We cannot afford to have Psimon
falling under the influence of other parties who might take an interest in his
abilities. I can assure you,’ he added smugly, ‘the Russians or the Chinese
would not treat him so well as we intend to.’

‘And what if he refuses to
co-operate?’ asked Steve.

‘He has no choice,’ said Vice
Admiral Fallon. ‘In time he will see that.’

‘And how long will you detain
him?’ asked the Chancellor, who clearly had considerable doubts of his own.

‘Oh, we cannot let him go,’ said
the Vice Admiral. ‘The world can never know that he exists.’

There was silence in the room as
the implications of what he was saying began to sink in.

‘No one will speak of what
happened here today,’ the threat in the Vice Admiral’s voice was deadly
serious. ‘No one will even acknowledge that Psimon ever exists. You will forget
you ever…’

‘Vice Admiral Fallon, sir,’
interrupted the aid who had answered the phone and was now clutching it
anxiously as he approached his commanding officer.

‘Not now, damn it!’ snapped the
Vice Admiral.

The Vice Admiral turned back to
look at Psimon to see if he showed any sign of understanding that his life, as
he knew it, was over. He felt no sympathy for the young man. As far as he was
concerned Psimon had brought this upon himself. Did he expect them to ignore
someone who could break their codes, read their secrets and tamper with their
technology.