relationships. If the dream messages I receive become too confusing, I lose all sense of time. It usually only lasts twelve hours. But sometimes it extends.”
As she spoke, Orient inhaled and began to control his breathing. The rhythm focused his concentration and he went receptive, opening his empathetic senses to the vibration emanating from Lily. He felt her energy swelling and receding in his mind, rising and falling like the amplified pulse of a heartbeat. Various emotions flashed through his understanding. Then he felt a crackling static cloud of sexual electricity expand across his groin.
She stared at him, her moist lips parted in a smile. “You’re very sensitive,” she said, her voice low and fuzzy. “That’s so nice. It’s such a good feeling to find someone who understands.”
The patterns of energy crisscrossing his consciousness dissolved. He smiled back at her. “It’s a sweet tide,” he said softly. “Someone could swim there for a long time.”
“The currents change very quickly.” Her smile became speculative, as she studied his face. “You have to be a good swimmer when the moon’s out.”
His reply was interrupted by a voice behind him. “We’re ready, darling,” Sybelle called, “if you are.”
“Good luck,” Lily whispered, touching his hand. As he walked out to join Sybelle, Orient felt a glow lingering on his skin from the warmth of her fingers.
“Is the equipment ready?” Sybelle hissed.
Orient snapped his fingers. It’s upstairs. I’ll go get it.”
“Now who doesn’t have whose mind on the job?” she scolded. “Think about Lily later. I want to go home with my coat.”
He hurried upstairs, picked up his equipment case, and headed back to the dining room. Germaine sat at the head of the table, flanked by Hannah and Sybelle. Maxwell and Professor Hazer sat on the same side of the table, facing Orient.
“This is Owen’s film of our experiment,” Sybelle explained as he set up the screener. “We taped every step. Owen wanted to find out if someone with low telepathic potential, but marked psychic talent, could be taught to receive direct impressions.”
Orient inserted his CD, adjusted the image on the large screen, raised the volume, then sat down and avoided looking at the faces of the people watching his film.
He tried to keep his mind clear and free of tension, but as the documentary went on his doubts nibbled at his calm. His own voice sounded like a drone on the speaker, describing dry results of pattern tests, symbol tests and abstract image experiments. He was grateful when the film reached the point where narration trickled off. This was the section where Sybelle began to form her own personal awareness technique, using what she’d learned. There was a short section covering her dramatic increase of correct answers on the Psi tests. The film ended with both of them experimenting with the unique style of open consciousness Sybelle had developed during her training.
“Each of us has a different vibration tone on an infinite scale. Like a spiritual fingerprint,” Orient explained as the screen went blank, “but the basic technique now has proved to work with varied personality types—all of whom have either high Psi potential or, as in the case you just saw, unusual psychic talent.”
“Looked like an advertisement for a Yoga school,” Maxwell observed, leaning back in his chair, “and it was overlit.”
“Maybe we should remember that Dr. Orient isn’t here to be judged on the merits of his directing,” Hazer murmured, “although I found the film absorbing. Quite a piece of work for one man.”
“Remarkable,” Neilson agreed.
“Of course,” Maxwell countered, “computer images can be edited to show many different results. It’s so plastic, isn’t it?”
“The second phase of this presentation,” Orient said calmly, “is physical evidence. Sybelle will leave the room and you can ask me to transmit any message you like to
As she spoke, Orient inhaled and began to control his breathing. The rhythm focused his concentration and he went receptive, opening his empathetic senses to the vibration emanating from Lily. He felt her energy swelling and receding in his mind, rising and falling like the amplified pulse of a heartbeat. Various emotions flashed through his understanding. Then he felt a crackling static cloud of sexual electricity expand across his groin.
She stared at him, her moist lips parted in a smile. “You’re very sensitive,” she said, her voice low and fuzzy. “That’s so nice. It’s such a good feeling to find someone who understands.”
The patterns of energy crisscrossing his consciousness dissolved. He smiled back at her. “It’s a sweet tide,” he said softly. “Someone could swim there for a long time.”
“The currents change very quickly.” Her smile became speculative, as she studied his face. “You have to be a good swimmer when the moon’s out.”
His reply was interrupted by a voice behind him. “We’re ready, darling,” Sybelle called, “if you are.”
“Good luck,” Lily whispered, touching his hand. As he walked out to join Sybelle, Orient felt a glow lingering on his skin from the warmth of her fingers.
“Is the equipment ready?” Sybelle hissed.
Orient snapped his fingers. It’s upstairs. I’ll go get it.”
“Now who doesn’t have whose mind on the job?” she scolded. “Think about Lily later. I want to go home with my coat.”
He hurried upstairs, picked up his equipment case, and headed back to the dining room. Germaine sat at the head of the table, flanked by Hannah and Sybelle. Maxwell and Professor Hazer sat on the same side of the table, facing Orient.
“This is Owen’s film of our experiment,” Sybelle explained as he set up the screener. “We taped every step. Owen wanted to find out if someone with low telepathic potential, but marked psychic talent, could be taught to receive direct impressions.”
Orient inserted his CD, adjusted the image on the large screen, raised the volume, then sat down and avoided looking at the faces of the people watching his film.
He tried to keep his mind clear and free of tension, but as the documentary went on his doubts nibbled at his calm. His own voice sounded like a drone on the speaker, describing dry results of pattern tests, symbol tests and abstract image experiments. He was grateful when the film reached the point where narration trickled off. This was the section where Sybelle began to form her own personal awareness technique, using what she’d learned. There was a short section covering her dramatic increase of correct answers on the Psi tests. The film ended with both of them experimenting with the unique style of open consciousness Sybelle had developed during her training.
“Each of us has a different vibration tone on an infinite scale. Like a spiritual fingerprint,” Orient explained as the screen went blank, “but the basic technique now has proved to work with varied personality types—all of whom have either high Psi potential or, as in the case you just saw, unusual psychic talent.”
“Looked like an advertisement for a Yoga school,” Maxwell observed, leaning back in his chair, “and it was overlit.”
“Maybe we should remember that Dr. Orient isn’t here to be judged on the merits of his directing,” Hazer murmured, “although I found the film absorbing. Quite a piece of work for one man.”
“Remarkable,” Neilson agreed.
“Of course,” Maxwell countered, “computer images can be edited to show many different results. It’s so plastic, isn’t it?”
“The second phase of this presentation,” Orient said calmly, “is physical evidence. Sybelle will leave the room and you can ask me to transmit any message you like to
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