The medical director of the Oakland Imaging Facility was an old friend of Vivica’s.
Vivica used the word friend loosely.
In actuality, she’d slept with the man years ago. Now, in return for one session with the facility’s FMRI machine, she promised not to tell his wife about the affair.
Vivica used the word affair loosely.
They had sex once and she’d yawned her way through half of it.
Normally, an MRI machine was the best method for studying the brain. But the new Functional MRI actually created movies of brain activity by precisely tracking the flow of blood and putting several images together. An FMRI scan provided maps of the brain in outstanding detail. Maps that could then be correlated with different mental processes.
Like psychic activity.
After thirty minutes in the interior of the machine, Hans Morden now lay supine on a table outside of it.
Vivica stared at the results displayed on the computer screen. Rarely taken by surprise, she found herself stunned. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she murmured.
Gaspar and Fitch hovered nearby at attention. “Seen what?” Gasper asked.
“This readout matches the ones done on telekinetics and telepaths. It’s almost as if…”
“What?” Fitch demanded. “What?”
Vivica straightened. “Never mind. I—I’m not sure.” She quickly printed out the readout and hit record for the results to be saved on DVD as well.
“Why is he in a trance?” Gaspar asked.
Vivica frowned. “I don’t know. He goes into these fugue states on his own. I don’t like it. He becomes unreachable.”
“Well, so far I haven’t seen Hans do anything amazing,” Fitch said. “He never talks. Most of the time he just sits there staring off into space. Are you sure he’s not retarded?”
Suddenly the pile of folders next to Fitch burst into flame. He gasped and stumbled back.
Gaspar grabbed the fire extinguisher and put it out.
Vivica arched a brow. “Did I forget to mention Hans is a pyrokinetic?”
The door opened then and Maddox walked in, a newspaper tucked under his arm.
“There’s something in here you should see.” He laid the paper in front of Vivica. The San Francisco Chronicle was folded to the last page. A small paragraph was circled in red.
“Hey,” Gaspar said. “You just missed Fitch nearly getting barbecued.”
“Quiet!” Vivica read the few lines in a matter of seconds. She looked up. “That’s all the information they have?”
“I spoke to my source,” Maddox said. “This woman, Rachel, claims that without touching the assailant, he made her fly back and hit the wall.”
“A telekinetic,” Vivica said thoughtfully. “But they don’t have a name or address?”
“They have a name. The reporter just wasn’t allowed to print it. Coulter Marshall.”
“The three of you get on it. Convince this Coulter to come in.”
After the trio left, Vivica walked back to the machine and knelt so she was eye level with Hans. “Nice display, Mr. Morden.”
The man stared at the ceiling unsmiling.
“There’s something very interesting about you. Most psychics have one defined ability: telekinesis, telepathy, pyrokinesis, but you…you have all of the above.”
She leaned closer. “You’re going to make me very famous.”