Slight of Mind, ch 6
No Accident

Mac's Voice-over:
I don't think I've ever talked so much in my life to any one person as I talked to Starkoss that day in his cabin. I told him about the incident at Western R&D and all the strange things that had begun happening to me afterward. I also told him about the other strange occurrences in my life—things that I could never explain but stayed in the back of my mind, like mystery novels I had started but never finished reading.

Starkoss just sat listening, occasionally smiling or nodding but never interrupting. I guess he could tell that if I stopped talking, I might not get started again. The fire died down and we fed it more wood. We ate sandwiches and drank tea. Evening melted into night very early; the sun went down behind the mountains and the darkness pooled around us. Fingers of sunlight reached across the sky but could not touch us.

I don't know when it happened, and the details seem fuzzy to me now, but during the course of my tale, I remember moments when I could not find the words I wanted to express myself. During those times it seemed that Starkoss still heard me, but more than just the words I was fumbling for. He listened and he felt, and his presence comforted me eventually into silence.

⌂

"And that's the story," Mac concluded his monologue, tipping his cup as if to drink, forgetting that he had drained the last of the tea it had contained an hour ago.

Starkoss rose from his seat without a comment and went into the kitchen where he started coffee brewing in an old-fashioned percolator.

Mac rose as if to follow him, but his attention was caught by something on the high mantle over the fireplace. There was a painting centered on the shelf, but just behind it had been tucked a smaller frame, almost out of sight.

Mac removed it carefully and examined the picture. It was a very old photograph, developed in tones of sienna. There was a large crease through the middle where it had been folded and unfolded many times. In spite of its age and wear, the faces of the people in the photo were quite clear. Mac did not recognize any of them.

Starkoss returned, pausing on the threshold. Mac set the picture carefully back on the mantle. "Sorry… I'm famous for being nosy."

Starkoss said nothing. He reached out with gentle fingers and slid the picture back behind the oil painting. Then he returned to his seat beside the fire.

⌂

Starkoss sat quietly regarding the ashes in the grate. MacGyver, his story finished, sat with his head in his hands, trying to rub away the persistent ache flaring behind his eyes.

When the older man leaned forward to touch his sleeve, Mac looked up into his concerned face.

"You are ill, my boy."

Mac dropped his hands guiltily. "I'm fine," he lied.

One of Starkoss's eyebrows lifted high, as if amused that MacGyver thought he could deceive him. "You are in pain. You have been since you arrived. Though you try to conceal it, you cannot hide such things from me."

"Reading my mind?" Mac leaned back in his chair. "It's nothing... just a headache. I've had worse."

"Yes… worse. Like when you saw the woman you told me about, the one with the young child?" MacGyver gave him no answer, so he continued, "When you took that paper into your hands-- the one she had held at one time herself-- you knew her thoughts at the time she held it. You saw her like a picture in your mind. Is this not true?"

"Yes. But it was more than that. I also saw where she was... at that time. I knew she was safe. And I knew why she was running." Mac chuckled without humor. "And then I started to bleed from my eyes."

"And you never had this experience before. You think that this accident—this experiment that these doctors were making—has somehow changed you?"

"If that's even possible," MacGyver muttered numbly.

"Not just possible, but extremely likely, I'm afraid," said Starkoss. "It has been my experience, MacGyver, that such accidents are not accidents!"

"Not an accident? Why would anyone deliberately want to make me a psychic? Most people think I'm too nosy as-it-is!"

Starkoss laughed deeply. "You havenot been 'made into a psychic', my boy! You must put from your mind any such suspicion."

"But, I've seen things… I... know things, and I can't explain how I know them."

"You underestimate yourself, MacGyver," Starkoss said. He got up from his chair and picked up the tray containing the remains of their meal. "You are a very perceptive and resourceful man. I think that you are more able than you give yourself credit for. But there is no unusual power at work here."

Mac rocked back in surprise, forgetting for a moment his growing headache. "But I knew what Pete was thinking, what he was going to say before he spoke!"

"You and Peter Thornton are close comrades, no? Is it so uncommon that you know what courses his mind will take?"

"Well… no… but, how do you explain how I found you? I didn't have a clue where to look!"

"Perhaps it was I who drew you to me."

"You… drew me here? Why?"

"Because I knew you needed help."

"How do you know? Did you have a vision about this?"

"Just as you and your comrade Peter are close, so it is with you and I; though we have not spent much time together, we have shared danger, and as dissimilar as we are, still we share many things in common. We are both men of the mind, you see.

"As far as this problem of yours, it is not foresight that has come over me, but memory; I have some knowledge which you do not have. I will explain:

"When I was in Moscow, there was a place where people like me were brought; Psychics you might say… as well as those with other talents; those who could read the thoughts of another, some that heard only the voices of the dead. One young woman could start fires just with the force of her mind—a girl of mercurial temperament, she was! Some could read objects, a few divined the future… as you can imagine; it made a very interesting mix of people.

"The government wished to perform studies on the abilities of these special people. I was one in whom several of these abilities flourished. A great Talent, I was considered. As a result of this infamy, I was only observed by the doctors, given exercises that were designed to measure my ability and… usefulness. How I tired of performing for them; I jumped like a dog through hoops for a master that was never satisfied."

"I know," Mac said softly. "I saw a taped recording of you, once. Before the mission when Nikki and I first met you."

Starkoss smiled a brief, bright smile at the mention of Nikki Carpenter. "Then you do have some idea of that which I speak." Starkoss continued his dialogue. "But those others… oh, most terrible things they were made to endure! I could scald you ears with stories… but that is all best left to the mercy of fading memory.

"The purpose of these experiments, beyond the measuring of endurance and effect, was to attempt to find some way to affect these talents in individuals who had never before demonstrated any such ability."

"The Russians were trying to create an ESP drug!" Mac stated in amazement.

"A serum, yes. They wished to induce such talents in those persons over whom they exercised more power than we insubordinate mentalists."

"Being able to read minds would be a handy tool for any Intelligence Agency," Mac said, shivering at the prospect.

"Yes, but they had little success in these experiments. In spite of the tests and the studies, the doctors were never successful in trying to produce these abilities in anyone who did not already possess them. They did manage to make serums and treatments that enhanced already existing abilities, but there were side effects to these procedures."

"Side effects," Mac echoed hollowly. The pain in his head throbbed steadily.

"Yes. Dreadful side effects. In one case, so extreme that the subject died as a result. I had thought after that unfortunate occurrence the research had been abandoned… but after my departure, I cannot be sure what became of the program."

Mac's brow furrowed as he frowned. "Do you think that Brooks and Sonne managed to get a-hold of this research and duplicate it? And I manage to walk into the middle of it all! Some accident, huh!"

Starkoss uttered a deep chuckle and repeated, "Such accidents are not accidents."