The Hypnotists

  Jax was no longer listening. Over the noises of the intermittent traffic, he could hear the sound of someone in terrible distress, sobbing as if the end of the world were at hand. Then, perhaps a hundred feet ahead, he caught sight of a dark-clad figure darting across the three Manhattan-bound lanes to the rail at the edge of the bridge.

  Tommy saw it, too. “What’s that guy doing?”

  They watched in horror as the young man hoisted himself over the barrier and stood poised, trembling, on the narrow ledge.

  A cry was torn from Jax’s throat. “Don’t do it, mister! Come back!”

  Jax and Tommy leaped the divider and dodged across the lanes, ignoring the squeal of brakes and the chorus of angry car horns.

  “Don’t jump!” Jax shouted.

  “You don’t want to do that!” Tommy added urgently.

  They reached the opposite side and approached the jumper, hugging the rail.

  “Don’t come any closer!” the man warned.

  Jax halted. “Okay! Okay! But let’s talk about this!”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” the man groaned in despair. “I have no choice!”

  Cars continued to whiz by, horns blaring, passing dangerously close to Jax and Tommy. No one seemed to notice that there was a man just a few feet away about to end his own life.

  Jax tried to be as soothing as possible. “There’s always a choice, and there’s always hope! I know it!” But even as he said the words, he realized that he was not up to this task. How could he convince such a despondent soul that life was worth living? He wasn’t a psychologist. He wasn’t even an adult! How could he talk this person into choosing life over death?

  The jumper looked down at the swirling waters of the East River far below and set his jaw with determination.

  “No!!” Jax howled.

  The man shot him a frantic glance, and Jax understood exactly what he had to do. He held the gaze, pouring on every ounce of mesmeric concentration he’d ever learned from the likes of Elias Mako. He wasn’t at all sure it was possible to get through to someone in this state of desperation. When the faint PIP image appeared, he thought at first that it might be more blowback from the video. But no — it was himself on the bridge, Tommy over his shoulder, cars passing far too close behind them.

  It’s working! I can do this!

  Classic hypnotic technique usually started by instructing the subject to relax, but that wasn’t such a good idea with a man on a ledge. If he got too relaxed, he might fall. “Okay, mister, everything’s going to be fine. Your mind is calm, but your grip on the rail is very firm. That’s the most important thing now — hanging on to the rail.”

  The man’s knuckles whitened on the bar. So far, so good. Tommy looked on, pale and wide-eyed.

  “Now listen carefully. You want to be on this side of the barrier. It’s all that’s ever mattered to you in the world. So climb over and stand right beside me.”

  Obediently, the jumper swung a leg over the rail and paused uncertainly. Jax was aware of the PIP image swinging away from himself and Tommy, where it faded, stabilized, and then winked out altogether.

  I’ve lost him! he thought frantically.

  The man shivered for a moment, as if waking from a dream. Then he began to teeter backward toward the edge.

  With a cry of shock, Jax reached out and took hold of the man’s arm. “Grab him!” he shouted to Tommy.

  His friend seized the other arm and held on for dear life. “What happened?” he babbled. “I thought you hypnotized him to climb back!”

  “He got away from me!” Jax panted. “He’s so stressed out that the connection failed as soon as he broke eye contact! Come on, let’s pull him over!”

  They pulled with all their might, but the jumper was a deadweight, and they couldn’t budge him.

  “What are we going to do?” asked Tommy, wild with fear.

  “I’ll have to bend him again,” Jax decided.

  “Because it worked so great last time?”

  Jax struggled to explain. “I’m going to give him a post-hypnotic suggestion. Then I’ll wake him up, and give the trigger word for him to climb back on his own.”

  Distraught and confused, the man was harder to mesmerize this time. But soon the PIP image was firmly in place, and Jax implanted his suggestion. “I’m going to bring you back in a minute with the snap of my fingers, and you will feel happy and relaxed — but not too relaxed. And when you hear the word pickles, you’ll climb the rest of the way over and stand beside me. You’ll remember nothing of all this except that your life is precious to you.”

  It took Jax every ounce of courage he had to still his shaking hand so he could snap his fingers. Straddling the rail, the man came to himself with a start, his entire body stiffening.

  “What —?”

  “Pickles!” Jax exclaimed swiftly.

  The response was immediate. The jumper swung his left leg over the barrier and was a jumper no more. Jax and Tommy hustled him across the three lanes of traffic to the pedestrian walkway.

  Jax looked at his subject anxiously. “How do you feel?”

  The man was furious. “You’ve got some nerve asking me that! You’re the idiot who dragged me through three lanes of traffic. You could have gotten me killed. Don’t you know life is precious? Moron!” And he ran off, still muttering angrily to himself.

  Tommy faced his friend. “Pickles?”

  Jax shrugged. “There wasn’t time to get creative. And I figured, who talks about pickles on a bridge? Anyway, it worked.”

  Tommy whistled with admiration. “It sure did. You saved that guy’s life. Maybe you should go back to the institute after all.”

  Jax stopped in his tracks. “You’re kidding, right? After what I’ve told you about Dr. Mako?”

  “Well, you’ve got to admit you never could have pulled this off without all that stuff he taught you,” Tommy reasoned.

  “I don’t care if he taught me how to perform photosynthesis. He’s hypnotized half the US Congress and most of the Fortune 500. And if he gets his way, our next president will be nothing but a puppet, on a string held by the great Elias Mako. I’m never going near that guy again! He’s poison.”

  Tommy blinked. “Dr. Elias Mako has devoted his life to New York City education and is an inspiration to every single one of us.”

  Jax was appalled. “What did you just say?”

  Tommy repeated it, word for word. And as he did, it was like we wasn’t Tommy anymore. He was a drone, no longer in control of his thoughts.

  Jax stared at his friend. “He got to you!”

  “Who?” Tommy was mystified. “You mean Mako? I’ve never even met him!”

  “You just said the exact same sentence as everybody he bends into loving him!”

  “Don’t you think I’d know if some Dr. Frankenstein knocked on my door and put me under?” Tommy demanded.

  Jax waved in the direction where the former jumper had stormed off. “That guy — does he know he almost jumped off a bridge and I hypnotized him? Twice?”

  “No, not until some waiter asks if he wants pickles and he climbs on top of the salad bar.” Tommy looked suddenly troubled. “So you think Mako bent me and made me forget about it? But why? I’m nobody.”

  “You’re my best friend. It was a message — he can get to me through the people who are closest to me. I’ll bet that whole business with the jumper was a setup! And he hypnotized you to remind me how much I need him and Sentia.”

  Tommy looked astonished. “No chance! What would have happened if we hadn’t run over to save the guy?”

  Jax shrugged. “That’s the kind of quality person who might have a hammerlock on the next president of the United States.”

  A deep sense of dread took hold in Jax’s stomach and began to rise up his esophagus. He’d thought he was through with Sentia, free and clear. But obviously, Mako wasn’t finished with him yet.

  The director still wanted something from Jackson Opus.

&n
bsp; The pictures that decorated the outer office seemed different now. Jax no longer saw the crème de la crème of global influence and fame. He looked at the photographs for what they were: a trophy wall. Dr. Mako, the smiling hunter, his boot resting on the big game he’d bagged — celebs, CEOs, and politicians, instead of elephants and rhinos. And, possibly, one future president.

  It’s none of your business, a voice inside Jax’s head said very clearly. What are you even doing here? You quit this place!

  Tommy’s words came back to him, twisting in his gut: Dr. Elias Mako has devoted his life …

  The fact that the director had hypnotized Tommy said more about his ruthlessness than anything else he had done. It was a statement that meant you couldn’t quit Mako — not unless Mako was willing to let you go.

  But I’m not going to get pushed around.

  Ms. Samuels seemed uneasy as she escorted him into the office. Nervousness suited her, as did everything else.

  And then Jax was face-to-face with the man himself. Mako rose, perhaps not so much in welcome as to display his height advantage and physical superiority. Oddly, when Jax peered into the dark eyes under those heavy brows, he was aware of an inexplicable impulse to impress this important, powerful man. It made no sense. Mako was the enemy, and Jax knew it. Yet the feeling persisted.

  “I apologize that my schedule has been so heavy lately,” the director began as the two seated themselves. “Ms. Samuels mentioned that you wanted to meet. And I had a feeling that certain events might have you jump to the conclusion that you needed to talk to me.”

  The way Dr. Mako said jump jarred Jax back to himself, and he lashed out in anger. “You put that jumper on the Brooklyn Bridge yesterday!”

  Dr. Mako shifted his long frame in his chair and looked interested. “If there was a jumper,” he said carefully, “I’m confident that we have developed your abilities to the point where your hypnotic skill would enable you to save a life.”

  “And if I’d been tying my shoelaces while the guy ran over to the rail?”

  The director smiled thinly. “No scientist can eliminate every variable from an experiment.”

  “Was my friend Tommy an experiment, too? Or was he just a message?”

  Dr. Mako looked impatient. “Surely this isn’t why you’ve been clamoring to see me all this time.”

  “It isn’t,” Jax agreed. “The recording — the one you said couldn’t hypnotize people. It’s hypnotizing people, isn’t it?”

  “Well, there you caught me in a little fib,” the director admitted. “It was the truth that remote mesmerism had never been accomplished. But I believed — I hoped — that your remarkable gift would change that. I’ve shown your clip to dozens of subjects, with impressive results.”

  “Yeah —” Jax was bitter. “I’ve been getting the blowback to prove it. I’m almost nuts — not to mention that I nearly got kicked out of school.”

  “For that I apologize,” Dr. Mako said formally. “Of course, I suspected that some form of the mesmeric link would be created, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  “Yeah, you could’ve,” Jax retorted, “if you’d bothered to answer any of my five thousand calls.”

  “We may disagree on method,” the director conceded, “but surely you see the importance of this breakthrough. You’re a part of mesmeric history, just like the Opuses of the past.”

  “And the Sparkses?” Jax prompted.

  The surprise on Mako’s face was worth it. He even stammered a little when he said, “I — I wasn’t certain that you were aware of your mother’s family. They haven’t been active in many generations.”

  “You keep a lot of secrets. Like how Wilson and DeRon stole Governor Schaumberg’s files. Or the way you make all your famous friends — by bending them.”

  The director was clearly caught off guard, but when he spoke again, it was in the ringing tone of a preacher giving a sermon. “The story of civilization is filled with tales of people who changed the world because they were willing to use whatever means at their disposal to achieve their goals. Our turn has come, and the means we use will be our gift. Your gift.”

  “How can a guy like me change the world?” Jax challenged. “I can’t even whistle.”

  “Not only are you in a position to change the world, but you’re the only one who can. You alone have the ability to hypnotize remotely. You will record another clip — it will be released over the Internet via a computer virus that will self-erase as soon as it’s been viewed. In it, you will implant a post-hypnotic suggestion for the viewer to vote for Senator Douglas in the New York primary. If he wins New York, the nomination is a mathematical certainty.”

  Horror flooded every inch of Jax’s being. Even though he had guessed at Mako’s intention to put Trey Douglas in the White House, the diabolical nature of this plan was shattering.

  “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life!” Jax gasped. “If it isn’t illegal, that’s only because no one could imagine such a sleazy, terrible, evil thing. Elections are supposed to be honest and free! To steal one by reaching into people’s minds and telling them who to vote for — that goes against everything America is supposed to be about.”

  The director was unapologetic. “Sometimes, Jackson, true greatness can only be achieved through extraordinary methods.”

  “You mean by cheating,” Jax accused.

  “That word falls far short of describing a revolution in which every aspect of how things are accomplished is turned on its ear.”

  Jax folded his arms in front of him. “There’s only one problem. You can’t do it without me, and I say no.”

  Dr. Mako didn’t flinch. “I’m asking you to reconsider.”

  “I’d rather throw myself off that bridge.”

  “Interesting,” the director told him. “You know what else is interesting? How quickly you deduced that I’d paid a visit to your little friend Tommy. Yet it never occurred to you to wonder who else I might have dropped in on.”

  Jax jerked forward. “Like who?”

  “Dear old Mom and Dad. Your father is a fascinating case study. Excellent taste in fine automobiles, but very conflicted when it comes to his son’s talents. Of course, it can’t be easy to be an Opus with no hypnotic ability —”

  “What did you do to them?” Jax fairly shouted.

  “I made a little suggestion. I won’t bore you with the details, but rest assured they are in absolutely no danger as long as you are cooperative. If not, suffice it to say you will find yourself an orphan very quickly.”

  In a frenzy of terror mixed with rage, Jax leaned forward and fixed his former mentor with the most powerful gaze he could manage. Dr. Mako’s eyes registered shock for an instant, then went blank as the PIP image began to materialize between them.

  I’ve got him! Jax thought triumphantly, racking his brain for the perfect mesmeric message to implant in this evil mind. This was his chance not just to protect Mom and Dad, but to make sure Elias Mako could never hurt or control anybody again. But how to do it? Could a hypnotic suggestion cripple someone else’s power? Or perhaps he could bend the director into forgetting his own mesmeric abilities. Unfortunately, the best person to ask would be Mako himself, which was obviously not an option….

  The hesitation cost him dearly. For a moment, he was aware of the stirring sensation, as if his subject was trying to hypnotize him back. And an instant later he was struck with a mental blast that felt like a three-hour headache compressed into a single surge of brain freeze. The PIP vanished, obliterating the link. The force of it threw Jax back in his chair, whacking his head against the wall. Chagrined, he at least had the satisfaction of seeing that Mako was equally shaken.

  The director’s discomfiture did not last long. He uttered a cold laugh. “The power may be stronger in you, but I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. I advise you not to try that again. For your sake — and your parents’.”

  Jax knew he’d been outmaneuvered by an expert, and that he ha
d no choice but to give in. “If I do this for you,” he said, panting, defeated, “how do I know you won’t trigger the suggestion anyway?”

  “Jackson, you have my word.”

  Jax stared in dismay. Did Elias Mako honestly believe his word was worth any more than the breath it took to blow it out his mouth?

  Lab 3 had been converted into a TV studio, complete with state-of-the-art lighting and foam soundproof tile on the walls. Ray Finklemeyer was not present this time; Dr. Mako controlled the recording by remote.

  The director was taking no chances with the exact wording of his message. It was all on a teleprompter mounted on the camera itself.

  “Look into my eyes …” Jax read from the prompter, his face tightly framed in the monitor. “Concentrate…. You are relaxed and happy….”

  “Again,” Dr. Mako ordered. “I need more intensity this time. The virus will have you appearing on computer screens as a pop-up. You’ll have perhaps two seconds to reach people before they delete the window. Act like this means something to you — because it does.”

  Jax gulped and started over. It was obvious that the director took this deadly seriously and wanted to get it exactly right.

  “… In a moment, I will disappear. You will remember nothing of me or this message. Life will continue as usual. But the next time you operate the lever of a voting booth, it will be your overwhelming desire to vote for Trey Douglas.”

  For nearly two hours, Dr. Mako and Jax worked on crafting the video clip until the director was satisfied he had what he needed.

  “Thank you for all your time and effort,” Dr. Mako said at last. As if he hadn’t just threatened to kill Jax’s family.

  “When does the message go out?” Jax asked in trepidation.

  “Our tech people have already created the virus that will carry it,” the director explained. “But we want to do more tests to make sure there’s no evidence of the video once it’s been viewed. A couple of days, perhaps.” He grinned. “You’ll know.”

  It hit Jax like an electric shock. He had practically been flattened by the PIP images generated by a clip shown around Sentia a few dozen times. What would the blowback be like from a viral video that was designed to reach hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions?