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Monday, November 21, 2016

Presidential Guardians Chapter 10

Chapter 10
Girls, Girls, Girls
100 words
Damn, she is cute. Katy. A pleasant sounding name, a girl next door, sexy on the inside, clean, well scrubbed exterior, wholesome, virginal young lady kind of woman. She couldn't be more than twenty two or so. I liked her already. I walked over to the desk and smiled. She almost dropped her pen when she looked up and saw me standing in front of her. Her cheeks reddened.
"Katy." I began, "I hope you will help me with my transition into this environment. It's quite a change for me."
"Oh my. I'm sure it is. It always has been for all the others as well. Whatever I can do to help, please let me know, I'll do what ever you need." And smiled that pretty pearly white smile at me. There was interest, that I could feel.
I came around the edge of the desk and took her hand in mine, and I thought about her, naked. Writhing in pleasure, that sense of orgasm implanted into her mind. And helping her to achieve that pinnacle, was me. She gasped, then sighed with the afterglow of great sex. "Perhaps you can assist me later tonight?"
"Yes, anything you need Dennis." She hesitantly murmured to me.
"Thank you. You know you are a very beautiful woman." And I stroked the left side of her face, slowly, from ear to chin, gently. She moaned. A not at all unpleasant sound.
Turning to go back to the classroom, I saw all eight of the hooligans' heads in the doorway. Watching. Christ. Well, so much for privacy. But then Mac did warn me that my room was more private.
Then Mikey called out to us both. "Katy, those pictures of our new Adonis are getting developed as we speak. Happy will bring them to you later. For your personal viewing pleasure."
And with that remark, they all burst out laughing. I looked at Katy and she was now beet red and sank her head down to the desk to escape the vision of the clown brigade. Shaking my head, I guess that I had to admit I was rather quickly being accepted into the group. So that part was pretty good. Basically good I thought of them all. A bit childish maybe, but good guys.
I shall reserve an opinion of Katy until later.
“Don’t all of you have some learning to do back inside there?” I asked as I walked back into the classroom.
“Oh I tink we learn a whole lot just now.” Andre came back with, and it was accompanied by laughter from all of them.
Mac now took charge, “C’mon all of you, you’ve had your fun for the moment. Let’s talk about some other stuff for a bit. We want Dennis here to take a shift tomorrow with Happy or you Andre. Break him in a bit. Get him familiar with what it is we do.”
The group returned to the seats. Attentive, as they all knew that there were things they could learn. As did I. Just then Happy came back into the room with a video cassette in hand. “You’ve all got to see this!” He exclaimed, breathless from hurrying here. At nearly a trot, he went to the back of the room, opened the cabinet and set up the machine. Once on, the image began to play on the wall in front of us, behind Mac.
The image was the first one taken here in the classroom. In normal view at first, showing me as I walked over to the lock on the door. Then, the image changed to the infrared mode and everything was bright greens, yellows and some red. The audio was silent, as I remembered there was no talking as I attempted to open the lock. The image zoomed in on my head and there was a yellowish haze where my head was. Waiting, nothing happened for a moment. Then, the area in the front of my skull, just under the yellow area began to glow bright red. There was an audible click and then the exclamations of the group came. Happy turned off the video and walked over to sit next to Mac.
“So what do you think everyone?” Happy asked.
There was silence for a minute. At least. Then Andre, usually the first, began. “I tink dis means whats we all knows. Tat amgdyla has some ting to do wit dis abil’ty too.”
Mac looked at him, then scanned the rest of us. He focused on me, then. “Yes, I tink. Crap Andre, now you have me saying it.” Most of us laughed now. He waited a moment. “Anyway, the thing is, no one really knows. But I want to speculate a bit and give an hypothesis that I actually have been formulating for a while now. This video just gives a bit of credence to my thoughts on the subject.”
Waiting now, there seemed to be no reaction to his pronouncement. Then suddenly, just as Mac seemed about to speak, Stevey spoke up. “Well I believe we all share the same feelings about anything that you and Happy come up with to explain what we are. What we can do. Why we’re different from everyone else. So yeah, lay it on us.”
Now there were mumbled acclimations from all around me, nods, smiles. They, like me as well now, wanted to understand why. Why? For me, and I’m sure, for the others, it might be the first step in acceptance. Learning to deal with the gift. And for me, dealing with it in a method where I can exist in the real world and not live in a separate reality, drunk most of the time.
Even protecting the President was better than the life I had been leading for some time now. I could tell that in the long run this life presented to me was to be a restrictive one. A formal one, and one with many many as of yet unknown demands placed on me.
It was better than being a drunk. I hoped.
Finally, Mac started. “First, it is all theory. The problem of course is that we aren’t technically advanced enough to even begin to measure and quantify what is actually going on. But old Happy here is working with a bunch of people to try to understand, and figure out what needs to be done to actually measure these things.”
“And that my young friends, is the hard part.” Happy now responded. “Knowing what we want to measure, and being pretty sure it’s there, well, it’s not all that easy. We just don’t know enough yet. Perhaps someday. And with that. I want to thank all of you, and beg Dennis to have patience with us as we use him to study.”
I nodded. “I want more than anything to know as well.”
Everyone was nodding, a few murmured. Mac took over. “As I think about this phenomena, I realize that the door lock is electronic. Using various simple electrical impulses, the keypad translates the numbers pushed, as a signal that the main computer recognizes and then releases the lock. The amount of energy being used by Dennis’s amygdala must be tremendous. As he focuses his mind on the task, there must be an exchange of electric impulses. How he corrects it, how he directs the signal to do what is needed, that’s where we need to focus our research.”
Now I thought of a question. ”Mac, would an exchange of electrical energy be viewable on the infrared camera?”
“Not necessarily Dennis. The camera measures heat energy. As we all know there might not be enough of a signal to cause a change in temperature that could be measured by our equipment. Granted, that’s one of the things that we are learning. Improved equipment capabilities will increase down the road and give us a better picture. Or at least a direction to focus.”
Stevey now spoke up again. “Can’t you just get some electrically sensitive conductive material and cover the keypad and measure what signals pass through from Dennis to the keypad itself?”
Looking over at Mac, Happy now exclaimed. “I can’t believe that it would be that easy. But you’re right Steve. That would be exceptionally easy to measure. We have that equipment back in the lab now. And really, just aluminum foil wrapped around the keypad would be a perfect conductor and allow us to measure any electrical discharge from Dennis. Excellent idea Steve.”
Beaming now, Stevey was looking like a king. “I know that the pad sends a specific electrical impulse to the computer, but what I think would be interesting is does the signal that Dennis sends compare to the signal from the pad in any way.”
As the group all began to talk about it as small groups, the excitement was evident. Mac was the one to rein in the enthusiasm. “I’m not sure that would work. The keypad is made of non-conductive material. There can’t be any actual exchange of electrical energy between Dennis and the keypad itself.”
Everyone got quiet now. There was general acceptance of what Mac had said. However I had a different idea. “Well, wait a sec. Doesn’t electrical energy effectively translate into differing radio frequencies? I mean what I do, couldn’t it be sent as a radio wave, or other electromagnetic spectrum signal?”
Now everyone looked at me as if I was from outer space. Mac nodded again, that peaceful and sometimes excited nod, and he took off. “Yes, even that we can measure. And when you think about it, electric impulses themselves can’t pass through the non-conductive material, but radio waves can, and we can measure those. Dennis, how you do it, that’s beyond me. But this has to be the only explanation. And the cool thing is, we can measure that.”
Happy then stood as if to make ready to leave, find equipment, prepare to experiment. I stopped him. I had more to offer. “Happy. Do you have one of those electronic calculators handy?” I asked him.
Looking at me curiously, his mind was beginning to speculate as to what I wanted with it. And he smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Here, let me get one.” And he walked out to the main desk and returned a moment later with a Sharp hand held model. He handed it to me.
I didn’t take it. “Sit down and keep holding it.” I directed. He did, and held it out toward me. “Turn it on now. And keep holding it.” He pressed a button and it lit up with the typical red light, number zero on the display. Now I asked him, “Pick a number, any number, a large number.”
That smile, he knew then. He played along. “One hundred and twenty-six thousand and seven.”
Nodding at the man, I placed my hand over the digital display, closed my eyes and felt the little machine that he held. I was that calculator. I became one with processed silicon and copper, diodes and printed circuits. Removing my hand, everyone was leaning forward and there was an audible collective gasp as the displayed read ‘126,007’.
Now Happy turned it off and placed it in his pocket. I could see he was affected by what I had just done. There was no smile. But there was amazement. “Every time?” He asked.
I just shrugged my shoulders. “Probably.”
Standing up now, Mac turned away from us. Pointing into the air with a finger, he turned back and looked at me. “When I first met you, it was at that diner where you had the altercation with the bullies and the Down’s Syndrome boy. You paid your bill at the cashier by swiping a card through the card reader. I didn’t think it was a credit card. That must have been a very complex process. Much more so than changing the numbers on a calculator.”
The first to speak was of course Andre. “Dis you not tell us Mac. You din seen tis before, no?”
“Yes Andre. I saw it before. Although at the time, I had no idea how, or even what had happened. I thought it was a trick. A quick flick of a card and then he distracted the cashier with other banter. Perhaps, well, I wasn’t sure. I’ve seen things like that done before and they have nothing to do with what young Dennis here did. Gypsy tricks. The new card reading systems that are going into common usage now are supposed to stop all that. But, I’m not sure they would ever stop Dennis.”
“How you do dat man?” Andre asked me.
Looking at the man, I had no answer. I didn’t know. I just did it.

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