Seven Point Eight (46 page)

In the ancient machine, quartz crystal in the walls of the pyramid converted acoustic resonance into energy, more specifically, electromagnetic energy. A magnetic field could be created quite easily with modern technology, which would rotate around the occupants of the machine and pulse at the frequency of 7.8 hertz, which I believe was the output of the quartz crystal.

Oscillators would produce the harmonic frequencies that I had yet to discover. I hoped the solution to this mystery wouldn’t stall me too long, but it seemed logical they were based around multiples of 7.8.

As the resonance would need to be contained, I designed dampeners to surround the pyramid without affecting the internal acoustics. Because the chamber would be completely swathed, I’d need to set up a cine camera system to monitor Tahra, and an external control booth. I’d also set up instrumentation to measure the magnetic field, especially during testing, when I’d use live animals to be ensure the safety of the field before putting Tahra in there. Furthermore, there’d be both an Electro-Encephalogram (EEG) to measure brain wave output, and an Electro-Cardiogram (ECG) to monitor her heart rate throughout.

The question of alignment crossed my mind, as the
Giza
pyramid matched the points of the compass. I decided to replicate this in my design, as maybe it had something to do with an alliance of sorts with the Earth’s magnetic field.

The last thing I’d need was a building large enough to accommodate it, and the funding to build and run it. This last factor was the most crucial, and one where external assistance needed to be sought.

Max was due to return in about three weeks so, during that time, I researched and wrote an extensive proposal to take to him personally. This had evolved into a big project now, and I felt confident it would take OOBE to another world, literally. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too difficult to persuade Max and because he was a man with finances at his disposal, I needed to impress him. I decided to be responsible for most of the technical labour, to cut down on some of the expenses. The wait for his return became excruciating, I longed to start building today.

Time passed relatively quickly. In Max’s absence, I managed to source materials and potential buildings, but OOBE couldn’t gather momentum without him. I played around with the oscillators, although I couldn’t practise creating the necessary field. What the ancient machine had demonstrated was the application of both resonance and magnetic fields to drag consciousness from the body, and propel it beyond current boundaries, so this is what I needed to focus on getting right.

Finally, Max returned from the States and I didn’t hesitate in setting up an appointment. There were a further two weeks in which to prepare for a presentation, and therefore two weeks to feel extremely nervous and worry like crazy. Tahra kept me sane, preventing self doubt which could have destroyed my enthusiasm.

The meeting took place at The Institute. Oscar and George were pleased to see me, and keen to hear about Project OOBE. In the early stages of my tender, I remained careful to keep it zipped for the time being, making polite conversation with them until Max called me through.

He seemed quite relaxed and more at ease with himself this time, although he said nothing about his trip to the States. I placed a typed proposal before him and he picked it up, eyes lighting up when he read the title – ‘Accelerating Remote Viewing Capabilities Through the Application of Harmonic Acoustic Resonance and Electromagnetic Fields’. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“Divine inspiration,” I explained.

He read the proposal thoroughly and I felt incredibly nervous as he did so, wondering if he’d find the whole thing preposterous. I watched him nod occasionally, raise an eyebrow or scratch his chin, then he placed my proposal down on the table.

“Looks like you’ve been busy lately,” he commented.

I nodded. “Although Project OOBE has been successful so far, I believe it has the potential to go further.”

Max considered my comment and proceeded to ask further questions.

“You’ve associated the resonant frequency of 7.8 with projection of consciousness?”

“Yes,” I began enthusiastically, “I think it’s highly significant in terms of what Tahra, Oscar, and George can do. The frequency alone appears to enhance the process, although as yet, it hasn’t enabled us to leave the solar system.”

Max raised an eyebrow.

“And leaving the solar system is your objective?”

“Absolutely, I believe there’s life out there and this project may enable us to establish contact. Tahra has remote viewed most of the planets in our solar system, achieving far more than either the Americans or Soviets in the Space Race. The
US
only achieved their first space walk about three months ago, and they’re not even anywhere near ready to land on the Moon yet.”

“Although,” Max countered, “your evidence is still subjective.”

I nodded, reluctantly.

“Yes. Tahra’s experiences are the only evidence I have, as yet.”

“You do realise,” Max continued, “that for this to be of value, you need to show these results are valid and reliable with a range of participants.”

“Eventually, I plan on extending the project to test the effects of the resonance and field on the other subjects at The Institute.” It was more of a question, as I ended the statement with an inflection. Would he allow that?

“It would be interesting to see if they’d be able to remote view under these conditions. But,” he continued, “I was thinking more of an application for people who have, in fact, no psychic or extraordinary abilities.”

This is something I hadn’t yet considered, would it even be possible?

“That would certainly make the project very…valuable to the scientific community,” I agreed.

Max returned to perusing my proposal. I suffered a moment of silence as he prepared another question.

“You wish to apply a combination of harmonic acoustic resonance and electromagnetic fields,” he commented.

“Yes, I believe it ‘fine tunes’ consciousness, focuses it like a laser beam,” I explained.

“You mean, it gives the remote viewer greater focus in their abilities, greater…power?” he postulated.

“This is what I believe.”

“And it could give an ordinary person the ability to do this too?”

“That would be desirable,” I stated with conviction. “I’ll test it on myself if I have to.”

“Will you test this new machine thoroughly before Tahra goes in?” he asked, on a more serious note.

His fatherly concern surprised me, as I’d become so accustomed to his cool demeanour.

“Yes, I give you my assurance that she’ll be well looked after.”

He seemed relieved, but then a little confused.

“Where is she anyway? She doesn’t seem to be around, and Miss Tynedale told me she’s been conspicuously absent when not required at The Establishment.”

I wondered whether he questioned me about any involvement with Tahra, or just simply wondered about her whereabouts. How would he react if I told him she was safe with me, in my cottage, in my bed…?

I shrugged. “She’s a grown woman and as long as she turns up for testing, I don’t ask what she does.”

I hoped he couldn’t see through my lie. He still looked perplexed, and I began to feel uncomfortable.

“Be sure to encourage her to return to The Institute,” he said, nervously. “This is her home.”

“It’s…a demanding project,” I explained. “There’s a lot of follow up.”

He seemed to ease up and so did I. It felt disconcerting when he asked such questions, as I’ve never regarded myself as a good liar.

“I’ll ring you with my decision,” he said. “I need to discuss it with the committee. They’ll want an assurance this project will bring dividends.”

Leaving The Institute, my nerves needed soothing with a drink of Tahra’s presence. Arriving home at my cottage, I paced the floor, watched by Tahra. Would Max and the committee and gave the go ahead, or allow my project to gather dust on a shelf somewhere?

***

 
“Come on, tell me,” Tahra pleaded, “this is agonising!”

After replacing the receiver, I stood still, trying to digest the news that Max had just delivered. She practically jumped around on the spot, desperate for me to put her out of his misery. Without warning, I grabbed her by the waist and picked her up, spinning her round.

“He gave us the go ahead!”

She let loose a little squeal of excitement.

“Really?”

“Really. Project culminates October 1967.”

“Not long after I graduate,” she commented.

“Something you’ll still definitely do,” I added. “I’m not going to interfere. You study, while I build and test.”

“Okay,” she agreed, a little sing song.

I put her down and questioned her about something that had been bugging me.

“Max is asking about you,” I said.

She looked a little sheepish and I raised my eyebrows.

“I…haven’t told him I’m here,” she stated.

“Neither did I, he doesn’t know about our relationship either.”

She looked at the floor, shifting awkwardly on her feet.

“Good,” she mumbled.

I became suspicious at her reaction.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” I asked, lifting her chin with my fingers and looking her in the eye.

She returned my gaze and looked hesitant, then smiled.

“No,” she replied, simply.

I paused, unsure if she spoke the truth or not. Sensing my scepticism, she kissed me reassuringly.

“He’s my sponsor. I’m here because of Max and he feels very protective towards me. He made a promise to my father, and it’s a promise he can’t break.”

I nodded. Still, a gut feeling insisted I’d rather he didn’t know about us.

***

Although I felt terrible lying to Paul, I couldn’t tell him about Max and me. Neither could I allow Max to find out about my relationship with Paul, as I knew the result wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Even though I had closure, he’d be jealous and angry because he viewed me as his possession. However, was I foolish to believe I could keep it from him? I decided to nip things in the bud and stay at The Institute more often. Max would surely stop asking questions, and I could study there when Paul didn’t need me for testing or moral support.

At first, I tried to hide in my room to avoid Max as much as possible. When he saw me again, I sensed he still had intentions towards me, and he didn’t know things had changed. It pained me to keep this a secret, it wasn’t fair, I’d found the right man and couldn’t share that with the world. Sometimes, Max brushed past me on the stairs after breakfast, perhaps hoping for an opportunity to say something, but he chose to maintain a professional air instead. At least I had my study and the new Beatles album to keep me occupied, although ironically, my favourite song was ‘You’ve Got To Hide Your Love Away’. It was especially poignant, and even Max looked pensive when he heard it. I felt relieved to get back to the project with Paul.