“Dr. Karin Weissman Ashe, speaking!”
“Dr. Weissman, the program is complete.”
“Excellent! And my pay?”
“You will have it.”
“We require just one more thing from you, however.”
Rancid, polluted, contaminated drinking water tore off the granite walls of the ivory tower. Slabs of rock screamed, howled, screeched, smashing scuttling motor cars, barely moving their wretched cargo across the dismal, sad, dying streets. A bridge fell. A tower crumbled. A building fell off a foundation and onto a small, vacant store.
Three men in suits approached the door.
“Mrs. Weissman-
“Yes I’m here, open the door”
“We have run out of psychic candidates. As a result, human resources have come at a- premium. We believe you will, a rather high profile intellectual as yourself, be a willing participant in the MKULTRA-2..program”
“U-uh excuse me?”
“Please, sit down.”
Nothing could be heard but the crying whine of efficient, high powered brushless motors and the yawning of the streets below. A car siren. A baby crying. Acid Rain. Advill. Advark. Ozwill. Ozman. Oz-
The night, for a world so tired and old, went on terribly slowly. Many buildings. Many people. Many minds. One beating heart.
“Bishop! Bishop! “McKentucky” “Mcknugget!” “Mckwill!” “Doughnut Gibb!” “STAT!”
“Yes?”
“I think I’ve found a prime source of the organ trafficking- they’re coming – from what I understand…are the wealthy-white-suburbs of chesterburry road.”
“And?”
“we might be able to intercept a shipment I’ve identified as being particularly valuable.”
“And how will we do that?”
STORY TO BE CONTINUED