4/2
Played: February 22, 2021.
Tuesday, June 26, 1973. Late afternoon. URIEL convenes to discuss the results of Charley and Roger’s examination of Roger’s memories finding the first RFK ‘72 poster. Charley says she was unable to “see” much using her tools. Roger explains that the RFK ‘72 poster seemed to “want” to exist even more concretely in his memory the more he thought about it. He avers that he is not compromised, the whole thing took place in a controlled environment. “But those posters, that meme … it can get in your head, and really start retro-creating themselves back into your memories.” He says the team should proceed with extreme caution going forward.
The topic turns to this Genevieve Abeille woman. Charley explains she read through Viv’s catalogue over the past 18 hours and thinks it would be wise for her — Charley — to go to the Mental Research Institute (where Viv is employed part-time as a therapist) to make contact. She says she knows from Viv’s works that Viv is interested in the concept of past lives, and proposes she pose as a gifted child who is exhibiting indicia of past-life recall in order to feel out what Viv knows. Jocasta could pose as her mother, who is scared for her daughter and wondering what’s going on. Marshall asks Charley if she thinks she is capable of maintaining such a cover story in the face of potential scrutiny by a trained professional. Charley says yes, she can, because has experience with past lives, and even worked on some of her past-life recall episodes with a doctor at Granite Peak. She goes on, somewhat bashfully:
But, um, something more recent happened as I was working in my lab, working in chemistry, um, which is … not something that I typically, uh, you know, dabble in. And I started having some sort of déjà vu moments uh and then, um, more recently I had a really odd dream … which uh, yeah, I can go into detail now but really, a long story short, I did a little autohypnosis by myself because in my past experience this is sort of a sign that there might be something there. So, anyway, I thought … yeah, I might, I might kind of riff on what’s going on with me right now. But in terms of, you know, for Jocasta, I guess just to kind of keep it on the simple side, maybe I — I mean, I want to be called Jack. I've been kind of, um, very adamant about that and I've been having a lot of nightmares involving fire. And, yeah, I don’t know if this is a good idea or not, but I’m showing signs of unusual talent with chemistry and I thought that is one avenue. But, but I don't have to do that. We could just go with my extraordinary abilities in other ways.
Marshall says that all sounds good, but reiterates that she must be on her guard. Jocasta says she’s game for whatever, provided Archie’s signs off on it. It is decided that Marshall will go with Jocasta and Charley to MRI; they can adopt a cover that Jocasta is one of Marshall’s clients, has confided to him her concerns about Charley, but Marshall knows little about matters of child psychology (let alone past-life recall) so he decided to bring them to MRI, where he knows some people. Charley asks what URIEL hopes they will get from her interactions with Viv. Marshall says that they are just trying to get general intel, specifically with an eye for anything that smells of History B. Basically, anything Charley can get out of Viv will be helpful because the team is so in the dark. Charley mentions to Jocasta that she plans on using the name “Jack” when describing her past-life experience. Archie endorses this plan, suspecting that Charley is really just looking for a reason to find someone to help her work through some things she is going through, while pretending it is all part of an elaborate clandestine operation. Charley then shares her analysis of Viv’s books with the team.
Tuesday, June 26, 1973. Morning. Marshall’s man Dave drives him, Charley and Jocasta down to MRI in Marshall’s Rolls. They check in at the front desk and are greeted by John “Jay” Grinder, a young-ish CIA asset who operates under administrative cover at the facility. He and Marshall exchange pleasantries before Marshall explains how his client — Jocasta, operating as “Mary Smith” — is having difficulty with her daughter, an “obvious prodigy,” which is inhibiting her self-actualizing. So, he figured he’d bring them down here to consult with one of MRI’s family therapists or licensed social workers. Grinder says he’ll introduce them to Viv, who he thinks would be a great fit. Marshall introduces Jocasta and Charley to Grinder and leads them deeper into the facility. Marshall observes that the vibe of the place has changed considerably since he last visited in the late ‘50s: no longer all a series of small rooms with one-way mirrors looking into them, it is now an open space with beanbag chairs, plants everywhere, conversation pits, comfortable couches, etc. As Grinder explains how MRI is now working, Marshall can tell Grinder is a bit uncomfortable with this whole new scene.
Grinder leads them to a room where there are a few chairs set up. He introduces everyone to Viv — a slight woman who dresses fairly plainly in slacks and a ribbed tucked-in sweater, belt, and necklace. She has a distinctive bob haircut with severe bangs and some pretty heavy glasses. When she sees Charley, her face lights up and softens her demeanor. Viv gets an instant read on Marshall, from his look and his reputation, surmising he’s probably affiliated with the government in some vague way and perhaps a charlatan engaged in bogus “wellness” work. Marshall smiles and introduces Jocasta-as-Mary and Charley-as-Jane. He then makes himself scarce, following Grinder off to get lunch. Viv immediately takes charge of the situation and takes Jocasta-as-Mary hand in both of her own. (Fortunately, Jocasta is wearing gloves).
Smash cut to Berkeley. Roger and Mitch — Roger driving — make their way to Andrew Krane’s apartment. They case the joint. Andy lives on the third floor of a three-story building; a very un-pretentious situation, not the residence of a successful published author. From the FBI’s COINTELPRO file, Roger and Mitch know that Andy is something of a homebody. Around 11 am, Andy emerges from his apartment. He’s a tall, gangly looking guy with a patchy beard, short dark hair, dressed inconspicuously in a white dress shirt and grey slacks. He’s carrying a spiral-bound notebook under his arm. Mitch immediately pegs him as Illuminated. At the same time, he realizes that if he is able to peg Andy as Illuminated, Andy might be able to peg him. Mitch slouches in the car seat a bit more after snatching a quick look at Andy’s aura. It seems healthy enough, quite bright, suffused with a great deal of anger and swirling with multicolored sparkles. He can tell Andy’s done a lot of speed — his heart is under tremendous strain — and draws from a deep well of imagination. He seems unmarked by History B. Roger, for his part, can tell Andy is a bit paranoid. He’s twitchy, keeps looking over his shoulder, his head on a swivel.
Back to MRI. Jocasta takes the opportunity presented by Viv’s introduction to get a empathic read on her. Viv does the same. Jocasta can tell Viv is a woman dedicated to healing humanity. She possesses near-boundless empathy and emanates a vibe of pure goodness and connection. She is the opposite of Marshall: earnest, sincere, open, well-intentioned. Viv, meanwhile, senses that Jocasta is a deeply troubled woman, someone who has seen a lot, and who is trying hard to work through something. Viv turns to Charley and introduces herself, asking how Charley would like to be addressed. Charley introduces herself as Jane. Viv says she is excited to meet her and to be her friend. She then turns and invites the two to take a seat without. She makes no gestures in doing so; she merely observes which of the five seats they take. Jocasta sits first, near the center of the room — optimal line of sight — and Charley sits immediately next to her. Jocasta exudes the energy of a fretful mother.
Viv asks them each and both, and neither of them, what brings them there. Jocasta-as-Mary explains in a feigned worried tone that Charley has been exhibiting some strange behavioral patterns. She uses a lot of pop psychology terms that one would presume she got from grocery store magazines: “fragmented identity,” “memories she cannot account for,” “unsure of her identity,” etc. Viv asks how that makes Jocasta-as-Mary feel, and Jocasta-as-Mary confides that is upsetting, though Charley has not yet done anything genuinely disturbing yet. Viv asks if there’s a father figure in the picture, and if he could join them in future sessions. Jocasta-as-Mary says oh yes, absolutely, he’s quite busy with work but he would certainly make time. The two adults talk some more in general terms about Charley, the family situation, their feelings, their goals, how Mary would describe her relationship with Charley and vice versa.
Viv then turns to Jane-who-is-Charley and asks if she’s ready to talk with her. She promises nothing that Jane says will leave this room. She asks Jane why she thinks she’s here; Charley-as-Jane says, “Because I guess I’ve been worrying my mom and dad.” Then, after a beat, she says, unprompted that she remembers being a man, being a scientist specifically, and that she’s had a lot of dreams involving that life. She finds it very confusing. Viv can immediately tell that Jane-who-is-Charley is being totally forthright and honest, whereas Mary-who-is-Jocasta is attempting to deceive her or hiding something. Viv asks Charley to go on. She does:
It's confusing because … I just … I remember a garage and I remember fire and I also remember seeing pharaohs, which doesn’t make any sense, and there’s this song. Um. That is, it’s old, but it’s not that old. Um — well, there were two songs actually. “Louie, Louie” and “Woolly Bully.” But that happened in my dream.
Viv asks more questions about Jane-Charley’s dreams. Jane-Charley explains that the dreams feel important, legitimate, true-to-life. Viv confides that she believes dreams are real and important, and she wants to help Charley-Jane figure out what’s going on in her dreams so that she can feel safe. Viv also feels something about this exchange: she senses, intuits, understands that Charley-Jane does authentically have past lives, and is re-experiencing them.
Berkeley. Roger and Mitch try to tail Andy without being observed, but lose him due partly to Andy’s paranoia and Berkeley’s weird one-way streets. Still — no worries. Mitch knows exactly where Andy is going based on what his friend Anna Turner told him the night before. He’s going to the coffee house called Caffe Mediterraneum (or Caffe Med) where he usually goes to write. So, Mitch directs Roger there. They park just as Andy arrives and watch as he takes a seat near the window. He starts to write. As he writes, Mitch sees the black-red veins of anger in Andy’s aura diminish, and the sparkle-drops of creation flare up.
Mitch: That guy's in the club. Be better — you know, fewer questions — if he doesn't see me. The way I saw him.
Roger: Which club? The agency club? Or the special people club?
Mitch: I guess the special people club, although, man, you should consider yourself special.
Roger: Right, I mean, yeah, I’m also an agent.
Mitch: I’m not here to denigrate you, man. That’s not what this is about.
Roger: Look, don’t go Marshall on me. I don’t need to be told I’m special. It’s all good.
Mitch: But, I mean, in this particular sense, you’re not. But, like, you know — in general.
Roger: Oh, OK. So this is a different special club. Oh! Your special club!
Mitch: Skull and Bones.
The dynamic duo watches and waits and watches some more. After about 90 minutes, Andy gets up to go to the bathroom. Mitch stays in the car reading Atlantis Rising. Roger heads inside to get some eyes on what Andy was working on. He walks in, steps near Andy’s table, then stops, pretends to have forgotten his keys by patting his pockets, looks around — enabling him to glance at the notebook — and then realizes, “Oh, no, wait, I have them,” and heads to the coffee counter. Mitch, observing from the car, smirks admiringly: “Very subtle, man.” Roger is able to quickly observe that Andy isn’t writing prose in his notebook, but instead a series of plot points.
He's got arrows joining together different elements of the plot, some question marks next to a few things. There's a lot of people's names — like character names that you don't recognize even from the little capsule descriptions of the novels. As you remember in each Atlantis Rising novel, he takes a look at a different group of, you know, “player characters” essentially. But the really important thing is that, as everything kind of comes to a taper at the bottom of the page, circled down at the bottom, it says book for “Book IV” — because of course he'd use roman numerals — “Atlantis wins.”
Roger goes, “hmm, that’s … fun” and moves along to get his coffee. As he does, Andy emerges from the bathroom and resumes his seat. Outside, Mitch suddenly spots two young men walking into the coffee house. They look to be college-age students, early 20s, neatly dressed, not your usual long-haired hippie types. Mitch watches as they notice Andy. It rapidly becomes apparent that they are Andy fans. Roger grabs a counter seat and starts smoking. As the two young men stare at Andy, attempting to play it cool, Andy suddenly snaps: “Did you get a free gawk?!” He is very aggressive, practically shouting it. They both try to excuse themselves but Andy persists: “I know what you’re here to do. Get a little peek over my shoulder?!” The young men apologize and say they don’t know what he’s talking about. Andy says: “I’ve seen you around before. I know what you’re doing. I see no reason to stay here. If you want to see me, come pay to see me in two days at the goddamn St. Francis!” In this moment, Mitch observes a small spark of History B — a flare-up that dissipates as Andy scoops up his notebook and pens and storms out.
Mitch can tell that this encounter has changed Andy’s attitude entirely. The sparkly-swirl-bubbles of creativity have dissipated from his aura and the black-red-bleeding-veins of rage have returned in full force. Roger keeps an eye on Andy before subtly attempting to follow him. Mitch slouches further down into the seat-well … but he too late. He briefly makes a second’s eye contact with Mitch. The two stare at it each other for a beat. Andy’s jaw drops slack, he peers a little more in Mitch’s direction, then shakes his head to snap out of it. He continues on. Roger races out of the coffee house and hops in the driver’s seat:
Roger: Tell me how to get past these one-way streets to get back to his apartment without being seen, since we can't go back the way we came because … Berkeley.
Mitch: You just make three lefts. But, um, we gotta — we gotta ditch the car or something because he made me.
Roger: Oh, we can leave it here.
Mitch: Are you sure? Because I know you care about the car.
Roger: Well, I’m going to lock it.
Mitch: OK, OK. If you think that’s gonna help.
Roger: I’ll take it to a car wash if the hippies start sleeping on it.
Back at Livermore, Archie finishes the New York Times crossword puzzle and decides he should spend some time reading Viv’s books with an eye toward getting an esmological read on their meta-text, implications, and memetic risks. He cracks open the first one.
MRI. Marshall and Grinder are having lunch. Grinder complains about how MRI ain’t what it used to be. He regards “Ms. Abeille” fairly well, remarking that she’s a highly skilled family therapist, a protégé of the famed Dr. Virginia Satir, whose recent work, Peoplemaking, has made some waves in the psychological community. Still, this isn’t the type of work Grinder signed up for. When he got started, MRI was getting a good deal of funding from Langley in order to advance the cause of advancing American psychological stability. But what Abeille and Satir are doing, that’s not Grinder’s skillset. Marshall takes this opportunity to subtly guide the conversation and unearth more intel about Viv. He learns she’s not a full-time MRI employee and has assembled around herself a fairly sizable practice consisting mostly of people who have sought her out after reading her books. She gets results. Marshall asks if anyone has offered her full-time status at MRI, and Grinder says no — but only because she doesn’t seem interested in that. She travels around, she’s scattershot, follows her own heart and interests. Grinder finds its very odd.
In the session room, Viv engages in some basic psychological evaluation games. She has Charley instruct Jocasta and Viv, standing in for her dad, on how to position themselves in the room so as to best represent how Charley feels about the family’s relationship structure. Charley plays along but after a moment expresses confusion … she doesn’t understand “what she [Viv] wants her to do.” Viv explains she doesn’t want her to do anything, but instead just to explore the space and tell them what she wants. The three experiment a bit with physical positioning in the space. Eventually, Viv asks if her position “feels” right and Charley says, “I think maybe you should just … maybe leave the room?” Viv makes a mental note of this before asking Charley where she feels she is in relation to the family. Charley crawls under the table. Jocasta closes her eyes and thinks, sarcastically, “God, they’re going to take her away.”
After a bit more emotional exploration between the three, Viv asks Jocasta what Mary makes of Charley/Jane’s supposed past-life experiences. Jocasta says she doesn’t know what to make of them. Viv probes further, suggesting that she believes Jane/Charley’s experience. Jocasta pretends to be shocked: “You think these experiences could be real?” Viv neither confirms nor denies, but instead asks Jocasta-Mary if she’s familiar with any recent yogic literature, articles on Buddhism and Zen studies, etc. Of course, Jocasta-as-Jocasta is well-versed in such things, but she denies it to Viv, saying they’re a “pretty traditional family.” Viv says she would consider reincarnation to be a traditional belief, since it goes back millennia to the oldest civilizations:
Viv: What I think is that it's very important that we take these things seriously, whether they're dreams or memory, because that's how (she leans over the table and looks at Charley-Jane) Jane sees the world right now. And that’s really important.
(Charley emerges from under the table.)
Jocasta: Darling, do these memories ever cause you any angst or dismay? You sometimes seem troubled by them.
Viv: (cutting her off) Ma’am, I'll ask the questions, thank you. You can ask her those at home.
Jocasta: … apologies.
Viv then has Jocasta-Mary position herself, Viv, and Charley in the room according to her perception of the family relationship. Jocasta-Mary obliges, putting Jane-Charley about equidistant between herself and Viv, but setting herself up in such a way as to suggest a very protective role. Viv makes a note of this and then asks to meet with them separately.
Returning to Berkeley, Roger follows Andy on foot. Andy doesn’t seem to notice him, but he is walking at an accelerated pace and still seems agitated. He heads back to his apartment, lets himself inside, goes upstairs, and draws all the blinds. Roger returns to Mitch, who has, in the meantime, observed the two kids who had bothered Andy leave the coffee house. As they do, he gets a quick read of their auras. They have no obvious physical problems, but their auras are clouded, tinged with obsession. They are not host to any irruptors, as far as Mitch can discern, but at the same time … there is something to them that whispers of History B. Like, they have been close contact with History B recently, and that contact has left a faint — very faint — taint on them, like a Geiger counter after being carried through a fallout zone. They’ve been playing around with something they shouldn’t be.
At Livermore, Sophie knocks on Archie’s office to report on what she found from her reads of Andy’s and Viv’s works:
It feels like she [Viv] took inspiration from Krane on those alternate history novels, right? I mean that's my analysis of it. If they are … they're not collaborators, but if they are really really intimate friends, then obviously it seems like some of his ideas kind of leak towards her and vice versa. I mean, once you start seeing those depictions of the hippie Atlanteans in Krane’s books, you can't help but see the stuff from her novels. Like there's a lot of information and ideas going back and forth there. So if he says — I feel a little more … this is going to sound crazy … but I do feel like those MARPA characters in Krane's books … I think that's project SANDMAN. And whether he was able to like … maybe he's got psychic abilities and he was able to “see” Granite Peak or remote view there or something … or understand that there is an underpinning conspiracy of magical secret agents in the United States? I mean, that's my intelligence analysis of that. Maybe this is a message. Like maybe it's meant to — well, I don't think, I mean there's no glyphs in here. There's no Sumerian. There's no History B source code in any of these.
Archie confirms with Sophie that he’s correct that SANDMAN has no record of Andy being an asset, agent, or otherwise involved in the Project. Sophie says yes, that’s correct — unless Andy was “wiped clean” at some point and all record of him expunged from the Project’s files. But it strikes her that Andy being a completely “zeroed” agent, known only to the highest level of SANDMAN Control, is unlikely. Archie observes that, still, it seems too much to be a mere coincidence. Sophie turns the conversation to Viv, explaining that she is actually the more memetically dangerous one. Her books, if people were ready for them and they achieved mass popularity, could really change how people think and perceive the world. From this, Archie comes to a realization: the world Andy is writing about in his books is the world he wishes Viv could make. He is writing about Atlantean people who adhere to the beliefs espoused by Viv. If Archie were to get religious on this, he’d say Andy is John the Baptist to Viv’s Jesus.
“But this is just Communism, isn’t it?” Archie asks aloud. Sophie says, no, that’s not right — the Atlanteans don’t like the Soviets, or the Red Chinese, either. Archie: “So they’re Maoists?” Sophie again says no, that’s not right either, but she is struggling to articulate exactly what Viv believes. A type of … indigenous communalism? But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t have enough information. Regardless, it’s powerful stuff. If it got out too widely, it would have an impact. Archie suddenly has a realization: Charley is with this hippie freak at MRI.