The Neurographic Portal (standard:science fiction, 8820 words)
Author: Rick	Added: Apr 23 2005	Views/Reads: 3403/2405	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A covert operation to test a new telepathic device turns into a mind battle for a military engineer with implications for human destiny.

Swish.  The basketball fell effortlessly through the hoop without
touching the rim.  After a slow start, Brad was on a roll, and his 
teammates knew it.  He had hit his last four shots in a row, pushing 
his team ahead by the score of 14 to 12 in this schoolyard pickup game 
to 15.  Both adrenaline and sweat flowed freely as the game reached its 
climactic pitch.  The ball made an irregular bouncing rhythm on the 
pavement as the dribbler attempted a series of start-stop faking 
motions.  Yelps warned of oncoming picks and defensive rotations.  Brad 
was briefly distracted by the sight of a black limousine pulling into 
the schoolyard parking lot, just beyond the court.  He turned his eyes 
quickly back to the game, but the opponent he was guarding had now 
gained a quick first step on him and was headed toward the basket with 
the ball.  Reaching around the opponents' back, he managed to slap the 
ball loose where it was scooped up by a teammate.  Brad intuitively 
bolted toward the other end of the court while his teammate 
simultaneously lofted the ball slightly ahead of him with uncanny 
timing.  Brad caught the ball and angled in for an uncontested lay-up, 
the winning basket.  He pumped his fist and slapped high-fives with his 
delirious cheering teammates.  As they walked off the court, the 
limousine's back door opened and an overweight middle-aged man in a 
business suit stepped out.  Brad took a deep swig of Gatorade as he 
walked over to meet him. 

“Hey, what's up, Dad?  Did ya' see that last play?” 

“Hey, bud.  Yeah, I saw it.  Not bad for guy with three years of college
under his belt.”  Derek replied sarcastically, “Just stopped by to let 
you know that I'm going out of town for a few days...” 

“That's cool,” Brad interrupted, “you know, you could have just given me
a call or left me a message.  It's not like we live together anymore.” 

“Yeah, sure.  I've heard that line about how much you need to be on your
own without your old man snooping around.” 

Brad laughed and changed the subject, “Hey, guess what?  I've managed to
save a few bucks so I can hit the Cape next week.  As soon as the ocean 
swell comes up, I'll be catching waves during the day and hanging out 
at bars in Hyannis at night.  I'm psyched.” 

The two men gave each other easy smiles, but Derek abruptly changed the
light tone, “Brad, I've got to fly out tonight, to Europe...and I want 
you to come with me.  I need your help with something I'm working on.” 

“You're kidding right?  Tonight?  Is this another one of those special
DD missions to repair missile shields over Latvia?  I'm close to having 
an engineering degree, you know,” Brad commented sarcastically. 

“Don't worry son, just leave the technical stuff to me.  Your role on
this trip is much simpler.  I can't explain it right now, but I need 
you to join me.” 

“Dad, you know I'd love to, but I've got a work shift at the restaurant
on Monday.  It's a steady gig and I don't want to screw it up again.  
My boss will never let me take off to the Cape to catch that swell if I 
miss another shift.” Brad now looked directly at his father's face and 
read the solemn expression, “So you want me to leave with you right 
now?  Is that what the fancy wheels are all about?” 

“Now Brad buddy, you've known for a long time that my work for the DD
sometimes hands us certain imperatives.  Don't worry, son.  You'll be 
home in time for your Monday shift and that Cape getaway.” 

Yeah, I do understand the drill, Dad.  I'm next of kin to a DD
contractor executive and this kind of last minute stuff comes with the 
territory.  Hey, can we can do another fancy pad job on the military 
expense account on this trip?” 

“Very funny.  Actually, the Big Honcho not the DD is sending me on this
one.  But you know Brad, I do actually work on these trips.” 

“Oh, sure you do.  First class flight tickets, gourmet restaurant meals,
female escorts in mini-skirts...it's just one non-stop party, right?” 

The two men both laughed and Derek slapped his arm around his son's


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