Seven Point Eight (61 page)

Because I thought of him, I found my consciousness standing in the kitchen at the farmhouse. Paul was preparing his evening meal, alone, glass of wine at hand. I saw a newspaper on the table, showing a completed crossword. He looked disenchanted with the whole two week leave thing, I could tell by the expression on his face. I stood close to him and wished to hug him, so with my consciousness I reached out and touched his cheek.

He jumped and looked round, as if he expected someone to be there. Was this just a coincidence? To test the theory, I placed my ‘hand’ on his back, gently stroking it. Paul responded as if I’d done this with my physical body.

“Tahra?” he asked, softly.

If only I could answer, what a surprising development in my psychic capabilities. I’d already found the remote viewing experience more vivid and but this time, I’d touched someone and made them aware of my presence. An empowering feeling spread through my body.

Because I couldn’t vocalise my thoughts, I retreated, knowing we’d be reunited in just under a week. As I pulled back, I passed through a chair and the strangest thing happened. It moved as if I’d actually walked into it, making a scraping noise on the terracotta tiles. At this point, I stopped and looked at Paul’s reaction. He watched the chair intently.

Had I imagined it?

I passed through the chair again and it responded in the same way, scraping along the floor.

“Who’s there?” he called out. “Is that you, Tahra?”

I wanted to respond, although didn’t know how. Withdrawing my consciousness and returning to my bed, my eyes snapped open, a big smile on my face. I could remote view and affect the environment now. The side effects of the machine started to pay dividends. A sense of power and awe came over me, and I began to realise this was the beginning of something else.

21

Seventy Five

Tahra returned to the farmhouse in time for Christmas. On arrival, she bounded over to Paul and embraced him in a bear hug, and he lifted her up and spun her around. Their reunion rejuvenated Project OOBE, the prodigal missing link had re-entered the fold. To celebrate her return, he gathered all twelve recruits in the sitting room, where they welcomed her back. For a while, everyone wanted a slice of her but when the fuss subsided, she spoke to Paul with openness and honesty.

“These two weeks have made me realise what’s important,” she declared.

Paul put his arm around her and kissed her on the forehead.

“Same here, you don’t appreciate what you have until it’s gone.”

“This project is my purpose in life, and you’re a part of my destiny too,” she continued.

“I don’t mean to put you in difficult situations,” he began to explain, “but the nature of what we’re doing is risky. I realise that you’re correct though, it is happening too quick. I’m on the outside so it’s easy for me to dictate the pace without due consideration for your wellbeing, harder for you to enter a different reality every few days. I can slow this down, just say so, you come first, not the project.”

He kissed her on the lips this time.

“Earlier in the project, I had an encounter at Jupiter, remember?” He nodded so she continued. “I wrote the word ‘satus’ on a piece of paper and taped it to my mirror at The Institute. This truly is the beginning of an exciting journey, we
can
change the world. All I need is courage to see this through. Something important is about to happen and I’m not going to stand in the way. I’ll do whatever’s necessary.”

Paul hugged her tightly.

“That means the world to me,” he said.

With that, he released her and called for the attention of the twelve recruits. He hushed them, starting to address them as a whole.

“I have an announcement to make,” he declared. “Although the project has been on hiatus for two weeks, it’s full steam ahead from now on. I propose three major expeditions: one with all six of the residents of The Institute, another with all six new recruits, and the third with all twelve together. On each of these expeditions, we’ll scout out a new world, beginning just after the New Year and culminating on the 21
^st
of February 1967.”

Tahra nodded to agree and Paul smiled with delight. Project OOBE had returned with a vengeance. He allowed them to discuss the next stage and while they did so, he pulled Tahra to one side, dying to ask something.

“About a week ago, I had a strange experience in the kitchen of the farmhouse,” he began, looking to see what her response would be.

“And what experience was that?” she asked, touching his lips with her finger. “Did you actually cook something for once?”

Paul feigned indignity.

“No, my dear Tahra, I felt your presence, it was if you were touching me. Where you there, Tahra? Did you remote view me?”

She detected the playful amusement in his tone of voice.

“Yes I did, because I missed you.”

“How did you do it? How did you make me feel as if you were touching me?” he asked, curious. “It seemed so real.”

Tahra struggled to explain how she’d achieved it.

“I don’t know,” she whispered, “but since I’ve used the machine on a regular basis, I’ve changed, I’m…enhanced.”

“Did you move the chair?”

“Yes, I believe I did.”

“I’ve never known a remote viewer who could affect the environment,” he said. “This really is something else, isn’t it? It’s the machine… I wonder if these are permanent changes. I need to take measurements of your electromagnetic field…”

She interrupted him with a kiss.

“You were right,” she declared, “it is exciting, it is a gift. Who can argue with that?”

***

The twelve recruits celebrated Christmas with Paul and Tahra, the dinner requiring ‘one helluva turkey’ as Tyrone put it. They discovered the simple pleasure of crowding around the huge farmhouse pine table, enjoying good food, wine, and conversation. Opportunities to socialise outside of the project were rare, and it felt good to remember they were all human beings with their own lives, foibles, and social commentaries to discuss.

Paul had bought a small gift for each of his recruits, commemorative cufflinks for the men with the number 7.8 created out of solid silver, and similar hairpins for the ladies with pretty gemstones set into it, including one for Tahra too. They were a small token of gratitude.

“I’ll wear this always,” she said. “It’ll remind me of what we achieved together.”

“It’s not the only gift I have for you,” he added, producing three more.

She opened them, beginning with the soft, floppy one, finding a beautiful red silk scarf inside.

“It reminded me of you,” Paul explained, “your passion and your fire.”

“Reminiscent of the passion I feel, for my life, the project, for you…”

He tied it loosely around her neck and she proceeded to open the other two, finding boxes containing a delicate gold necklace and a ring set with a ruby. Tahra loved them both and wore them immediately.

“I love all my gifts, thank you.”

She produced two presents and passed them to Paul, who opened them eagerly. He discovered a solid gold ring with an engraving of an Egyptian ankh on it, plus a framed photograph of the OOBE team.

“This has got to be the most memorable Christmas I’ve had so far,” he said, giving her an appreciative kiss.

New Year featured celebrations in a similar manner, fuelled by the belief that 1967 heralded a major breakthrough. Max always hosted his own party every New Year, although he accepted the OOBE team had formed their own clique now. They greeted the New Year with twelve bottles of wine, the chinking of glasses, and some drunken revelry, which progressed from a pleasant merriness to something a little more raucous. Everyone deserved to cut loose for a while though.

Curtis volunteered for the role of DJ, with some assistance from Sonya, who enjoyed pop music in addition to classical. They played a range of current and recent tunes, and as the night progressed, a whole chorus of OOBE recruits sang ‘Reach Out, I’ll Be There’ by the Four Tops. Paul appreciated the social atmosphere they’d created at the farmhouse, which seemed to imprint positive energy onto the fabric of space around them. Hearing the laughter, and sensing the hopeful vibrations in the room fostered his unshakeable conviction in his vision.

Nicholas and Emilie become rather intimate to the sounds of ‘I’m Into Something Good’ by Herman’s Hermits, accompanied by a sing-a-long in the background. In his semi-drunken state, he placed his arms around her waist and moved in time to the music.

“There is indeed something special on my mind,” he agreed, touching her affectionately on the nose. “I’m into something good!”

“You’ve made me a very happy woman,” Emilie told him.

Nicholas grasped her closer.

“You’ve made me a very happy man.”

Paul watched with amusement, noticing how even the shyest of residents, like Sakie were joining in. Tahra, Angelina, and Tyrone became the most boisterous singers, Oscar danced with Dominique, twirling her around the floor, and even Sonya drifted into the congregation, unable to take a back seat any longer.

Tahra sidled up to Paul, put her arms around his neck and her pelvis close to his, and swayed in a semi-drunken seductive manner. Nancy Sinatra’s ‘These Boots Were Made for Walking’ graced the air, with accompaniment from the OOBE quintet and Tahra decided to get playful.

“Would you like my boots to walk all over you?”
she asked, smiling and teasing as she sent a little shiver of energy up his spine.

“Mmmm,” he murmured in her ear, “I hope you’re not just teasing.”

Curtis noticed the sexual chemistry between Paul and Tahra, Nicholas and Emilie, Angelina and Tyrone, and responded with The Kinks ‘You Really Got Me’. At the sound of the tune, the three couples laughed as Curtis gave them a wink. Nicholas and Tyrone struck up their own individual accompaniment, although Paul stopped short of singing, he simply moved his body in time with Tahra’s.

“I’m inclined to agree with the lyrics,” Paul said, running his hands up and down her body. “You certainly have got me going.”

Tahra brushed her lips against his, as a statement of what may transpire. Sensing his arousal, she elegantly stepped away from his embrace, pausing in the doorway and striking a provocative pose.
 
Paul took the cue and walked towards her, although she moved away before he could touch her, waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

“I hope you’re not wearing your best underwear,” he laughed, “because I’m going to rip it off.”

Tahra winked and ascended the stairs, casting a glance behind her to entice Paul. He followed and she lingered in the bedroom doorway, where he swept her up and placed her on the bed.

They undressed with a sense of urgency, and Paul pulled off her underwear with his teeth, facilitating a quick entry. While Tahra cried out in a spontaneous finale, Emilie and Nicholas rose to an ecstatic mutual orgasm elsewhere in the house, accompanied by the twelve chimes of Big Ben coming over the radio.

Breakfast appealed to no one the next morning, although glasses of water, Alka Seltzer, and headache pills soothed stomachs and raging headaches. By the evening, everyone had settled down to quiet chatter, cups of tea, and a small buffet of nibbles. They talked of the three upcoming missions in the machine with excitement, preparing to get down to business again.

On the night of January the 5
^th
, everyone congregated in the sitting room, ready to embark on the next major step. They all watched the news together, viewing in horror as Donald Campbell’s attempt to beat his own water speed record ended in tragedy. As his turbojet hydroplane, ‘Bluebird’ approached 300mph on Coniston Water in
Cumbria
, the nose lifted from the water and the hydroplane performed a backward somersault, killing him.