All Rights Reserved © 2018, Rick Haydn Horst
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Synopsis: [This is the journey of Rick Heiden, who steps beyond his comfort zone, and his life is never the same. He travels to another world and learns that more to him exists than the introvert who revels in the quiet calmness of his apartment to read the latest novel by the fireplace.]
This novel contains 50 chapters.
CHAPTER TWO
The actual signing was as anticlimactic as one might expect--I signed a mere piece of paper. However, it granted me access to the answers I wanted. They had put me through too much to give up.
Mr. Haywood slid another file to Ms. Newton. "We are holding a person of interest. Evidence suggests he speaks Japanese. Certain incidences, beyond your purview, indicate that he has knowledge of national importance. However, he refuses to speak with us, so we have a problem. Agent Levitt--whose assessment I accept--believes you can solve it. Will you enlighten the others as to why you think this, Agent Levitt?"
Mr. Levitt expected this; he sounded as if he had rehearsed his reply. "If we needed nothing more than an interpreter, ours should have proved more than adequate, but we tried that."
"He failed," said Mr. Haywood.
"Correct," Mr. Levitt said, "the man wasn't willing to talk, and I suspect we carry the fault for that. Our
guest
has only spoken one Japanese word,
Dashite
, which in English means
let me out
, and nothing else. So, baring the American route of torturing him till he tells us what we want to know, which I believe we all view as repulsive and criminal, we need something more. In comes Mr. Heiden, with talents beyond that of an interpreter, from what I've witnessed, he is a strong intuitive empath."
I just looked at him, not sure where he was taking it, and it seemed strange for someone to talk about me while in the room, but he had said to follow his lead.
He continued. "An intuitive empath uses their native intuition to understand what someone says. They feel what others feel and draw others to them." He addressed me, "Mr. Heiden, have you ever just met someone, and they start telling you about their troubles after only a few minutes?"
I had to think about it. "Often, but doesn't that happen to everyone?" I asked, looking for confirmation from the others.
"No, Mr. Heiden, it doesn't," he said. "Also, I've watched you when you interpret. You latch onto what someone means even when they speak in vague terms. I've even watched you know what people feel, and sometimes think, just by looking at them."
I almost burst out laughing. "Please, don't hype me as a mind reader!" I said, not wanting the others to think he meant anything of the sort.
"Oh, I wouldn't accuse him of mind reading," he told the others. "The impressions people give him he intuits into thoughts." He bent down to look into my eyes. "You amaze me."
Levitt had beautiful amber eyes. His closeness caused my breathing to become a little erratic, and I could feel my heart beating, but then I glanced at the faces of the others at the table. "You better stop. You're making them wonder if they've made a mistake." At that, I noticed several raised eyebrows.
Levitt stood erect once again. "If you want something more concrete," Levitt said to them, "Mr. Heiden works as a professional interpreter, he has fluency in the Japanese language and has studied the intricacies of Japanese customs. However, his skill as an intuitive empath will make a difference."
Mr. Haywood sat unconvinced with a contemptuous gaze. "Complete nonsense."
"That will do, Mr. Haywood," said Ms. Newton.
"What will this entail?" asked Mr. Park from the Government Office for Science.
"We let him see what we found on the man," said Levitt, "we introduce him to him, and let him take over from there. I think before long our guest will lower his guard enough to talk to us."
After some deliberation, they decided it couldn't hurt to try. I found it hard to feel gratified with such a dismal level of confidence.
Levitt and I took the lift to what I mistook as the basement. Beneath the building, an excessive amount of LED lighting illuminated a veritable labyrinth of spacious, clean, groin-vaulted rooms connecting long and identical, barrel-vaulted corridors. If I hadn't seen the console tables on every wall with the potted plants, I would have expected someone to sacrifice me to the Minotaur. Carpet and tiny white acoustic tiles covered every surface. The air felt dry with an odor typical of hyper-purification; it smelled of activated carbon and paper with a bit of ozone.
As I followed Levitt, I mused over the words the man spoke, "
Let me out
. You wouldn't have him manacled to a wall in some old dungeon down here, would you?"