Chapter 1: Define the Question

In the summer of 2003, I got laid off from what I thought was my dream job. I hadn't done anything wrong, I was just young, and the company I worked for was having financial troubles. In fact, nearly everyone on the project I was working on got laid off—our research just wasn't cost-effective to keep researching in the current fiscal crisis. At least, that was the line of crap they fed us. I had worked for a major pharmaceutical company. But now, I was unemployed.

When I got laid off, I was twenty-eight years old. I had a doctorate in Biochemistry and Pharmacology. I'd only been with the company for a year, but I was on a team working towards a possible cure for cancer. Since my own mother had died from breast cancer, and the project was promising, it really had been my dream.

But that August, only a year after defending my dissertation, I found myself jobless. I'd been working so hard for so long, I found myself in a very bad place—jobless, nearly broke, and alone.

My father had left my mother when I was only a fetus, and I'd never even met the jerk. My mother had been truly wonderful, but she died of cancer when I was nineteen. At the time, I'd been a fairly well-adjusted young man—good student, fun-loving college guy, steady girlfriend, lots of friends ... you get the picture.

But after my mom died, I really threw myself into my studies. I already had wanted to be a research chemist, but when she died of an incurable disease, it really changed me and made me focus more. Soon, girlfriend, friends, and fun all fell to the wayside. I became an amazing student, but my personal life was non-existent. Heck, I think my best friend was my doctoral advisor, and I haven't spoken to him in nearly three months.

I graduated third in my undergraduate class, completed a Masters in Chemistry in only one year, and quickly began working on my doctorate. My adviser and I were one of the first to begin trying to attack cancer cells with a man-made virus. The work was promising and it was what led me to my dream job.

But when I was laid off, I found myself coming home to a fairly sparse and empty apartment with my severance paycheck in my pocket and a gloomy expression on my face. For two days, I sent out resumes and contacted old professors to see if they had any leads. But the outlook was grim. I was living in Los Angeles at the time, but I was entirely willing to move anywhere I could find gainful employment.

On the third day after being laid off, I awoke to someone knocking on my door. Checking the clock, I saw it was barely seven o'clock. In only a pair of boxer shorts and a bathrobe, I answered the door. Standing on my doorstep was a man in an Army uniform. The man had so much brass and ribbons on his chest, I had no idea what to make of him.

"Dr. Keith Meridian?"

I nodded wearily.

"Good morning, Doctor. I apologize if I woke you, but I have an urgent proposal for you."

I rubbed my face sleepily, "What kind of proposal?"

"A job offer. My name is Colonel Mark Ansel. May I come in and speak with you?"

I was intrigued by the prospect of a new job, but still weary. I decided to go ahead and hear him out. I stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. The Colonel moved like a man who could easily kill me with his bare hands, though his face was kind and honest.

Judging by his appearance, he wasn't much older than me, probably in his late thirties. I didn't know much about the military, but I did know that was fairly young for a Colonel. I gestured to my kitchen table and we both sat down.

"I understand you were recently laid off?"

I nodded.

"We became aware of your employment status when they made the layoffs, but we didn't get a chance to review your records and resume until yesterday."

"How did you get my resume?" I asked.

"I'd prefer not to say. We have several former employees who work with some of the companies you applied to. One of them forwarded us your resume. We then compiled a file on you and did a preliminary background check. When that was completed and everything checked out, I came here."

I nodded, but asked, "What kind of job is this?"

"Research. Classified research. I can't tell you much more before you take the job, but I can tell you it is not related to the cancer research you've been doing. I know that's your true passion, but this research will most likely have no implications into that field.

"What I can tell you is this—the job is monetarily rewarding, not dangerous, and if you complete the project, we can definitely help place you with one of the major pharmaceutical companies again. Or, if you prefer, we can assign you to another project."

I thought about his answer for a few moments, then asked, "How much monetary compensation?"

He wrote down a number and slid it to me, "Plus, full health, vision, and dental. We don't have a 401K plan, but with what we pay, you can afford to fund your own retirement funds."

The number he'd written was easily three times what I'd been earning this past year—and major corporations paid research scientists well. This was a small fortune.

"How long with the project take?"

The Colonel shrugged, "That's hard to say. We estimate six months to a year, but it could take as long as two years. We'll pay the full amount for any time during the first year, but if it goes beyond, we'll consider that figure a yearly salary paid monthly."

"Is there anything else you can tell me about the project?" I asked.

The Colonel thought for a moment, then said, "It's interesting work, I believe, and your work will ultimately benefit your country."

I nodded slowly, then questioned, "Can I think about it?"

The Colonel checked his watch, then said, "I can give you one hour. Then I'm afraid I'll have to offer the job to the next person on my list."

He stood and walked to the door. I opened it, "May I ask ... where am I on your list?"

The Colonel put on his hat and grinned, "You're at the top. I'll be back in an hour."

I was still groggy, so I started my coffee maker and took a shower. From the time the Colonel left to when I was getting dressed, I kept trying to think of reasons not to take the offer. I couldn't though. It sounded intriguing. High pay, low risk, interesting and classified work—what was the problem?

While I sipped my coffee and ate a bowl of cereal, I began to try and think of what the possibilities might be—chemical weapons research, some sort of super-soldier-enhancement drugs, maybe work with bio-chemical computers. All of my ideas were interesting.

Eventually, when Colonel Ansel knocked on my door again, I was eager to take the job. He nodded to the kitchen table again and opened his briefcase. He explained each document as he passed it to me to sign. Confidentiality agreements, insurance policy, and several more forms which I honestly could barely remember later.

Then he told me to pack a bag with anything I might need for a three-day trip. I packed a suit, a change of clothes, toiletries, my laptop computer, and my iPod. He let me to his rental car and we drove to a small airport. I was so consumed with excitement and curiosity, I didn't' really press him for answers.

We drove right onto the tarmac and boarded a small Gulfstream jet. There was a pilot and flight attendant already aboard. The pilot had the engines warming up before we were even seated. Ansel stowed his hat and jacket and seemed much more comfortable without them.

"Jackie, this is Dr. Meridian," he said to the flight attendant.

She wasn't wearing a uniform, but I could tell by the way she moved and nodded to the Colonel, she was military, or former military. She had blonde hair, gathered up and pinned neatly in military fashion on her head. She also had bright blue eyes and a gorgeous figure. Her clothing wasn't revealing, but I could tell that a body like hers could never fully be hidden. She had the kind of body that made a polka-dot muumuu look sexy.

When she caught me looking, I blushed, but Jackie only grinned. She brought us both drinks and then went to the cockpit to belt in as the plane began its take-off run. Ansel began to tell me about the project. He first pulled out a black binder with several "Classified" warnings on it and handed it to me.

"Have you ever heard of a project named MK-ULTRA?" he asked.

I shook my head.

"At the beginning of the Cold War, the CIA formed the Office of Scientific Intelligence, which still exists today—though we call it the Directorate of Science and Technology. One of the first projects the OSI undertook was called MK-ULTRA. MK-ULTRA was a project that studied the human brain from many different points of view: psychology, pharmacology, mysticism, and parapsychology.

"The project was started because the CIA believed that our enemies—namely the Soviets—had already started their own program. And technically, there was evidence that the Nazis had a similar program during World War Two, though their focus was primarily on the parapsychology and mysticism.

"Parapsychology? You mean like psychics and telepaths?" I asked incredulously.

Ansel nodded, "But the MK-ULTRA program was primarily psychological and pharmacological. Have you ever heard rumors that the government was giving college students massive doses of LSD in the sixties?"

I nodded, "Sure, that's what Stephen King's Firestarter is based on."

Ansel laughed, "Yeah. Well ... the rumors were true. In the seventies, a senate commission investigated the program and supposedly shut it down. Then a few years later, they found that it had simply been moved to black-ops and again, the program was shut down. However, the program continues today, as our enemies continue similar programs."

"Sounds more like work for a science fiction writer than a chemist. You're really trying to create telepaths and such with drugs?" I asked.

"Oh no!" he laughed. "The true purpose of MK-ULTRA was always about the limits of the human mind, whatever they may be, but the practical implication of MK-ULTRA is mind control. Already, many drugs exist which affect the mind's ability to process thoughts in a normal manner. Take Sodium Pentothal for example. It's a barbiturate that is primarily used as an anesthetic, but it is also known as a drug which is known for being used as a 'truth serum'. However, the drug is highly ineffective in most interrogations because a practiced liar can still lie while under the drug's influence."

I nodded.

"When it comes to mind control, drugs are the easiest and most effective route. More effective that psychologically manipulating the subject, and faster."

"What does the military want with mind control? Turning soldiers into zombies that follow every order without question?"

Ansel laughed, "No, they can already do that without drugs—they call 'em Marines. Besides, a mindless drone who follows orders unquestioningly isn't really much good in today's modern military. We want a soldier who can think on his feet and accomplish goals in the most efficient way possible. In order to do that, a soldier has to understand the flexibilities of an order.

"If I order to walk to point A, a mindless drone would walk in a straight line to the point. But if there is an obstacle in the way, say a chasm, the mindless drone would fall in and die. Give the same order to a soldier with a good head on their shoulders, and the soldier would find a way around the chasm or across it.

"No ... mind control has much better uses. Imagine being able to simply drug a terrorist and instantly turn him into a double-agent. Or what about for interrogating a captured enemy? We could save millions of lives."

I nodded in understanding. I knew enough about how the current so-called 'truth serums' worked to know that they weren't all that reliable, and neither was torture. In either case, the subject eventually becomes so compliant that they'll simply tell the interrogator what they want to hear—whether it's the truth or not.

"The project you'll be working for is on overseeing the human testing phase of a new drug we've developed. It's a radical new approach to mind control, and the animal testing phase was nearly flawless."

"Nearly flawless?" I asked.

"Unfortunately, the previous Project Manager tried using the drug himself. No one knew he had a weak blood vessel in his brain and the drug was enough to rupture it. He died only hours after taking the drug. For this reason, you'll have a full battery of brain scans later today—CT, MRI, PET, etc."

"I'll be using the drug on myself?"

"You don't have to, but after you see the results, you may be tempted to try it. For that reason, all those working on the project are taking this precaution."

I nodded. I understood. Researchers often were tempted to try the new drugs and treatments they developed on themselves, friends, or family. From rumors I'd heard, Viagra was actually quite the recreational drug at Pfizer before FDA approval for human tests came through.

Ansel handed me another file and I began to read. The drug was currently called Rx V7-439, but according to the lab notes from the animal testing trials, the researchers started calling it the 'Vulcan drug', or simply 'Vulcan'—a reference to the powerfully-minded Star Trek aliens, like Spock. Unlike previous attempts at mind control, the subject given the drug did not become compliant to commands, but instead those around the subject found their commands irresistible.

The drug had been an accidental discovery by a normal research team at a pharmaceutical company looking for a new non-addictive sleep disorder medication. The drug radically changed the subject's brain activity without changing thought patterns. Since the drug did nothing for sleeping disorders, it was scrapped by the researchers who created it.

However, the MK-ULTRA project took the drug and continued to modify and test it. The current generation of the drug still greatly increased brain activity without showing any signs of changing the subjects state of mind or thought processes, and it also greatly increased the subject's pheromone transmitters.

The only side effects were a bit higher blood pressure and a greatly increased metabolism in the subject. The high-blood pressure increase was very slight, but combined with the increased activity in the brain, it made brain aneurisms more likely—hence the need for subjects to have brain scans prior to usage. All of the testing up to this point in the project was done with human subjects surrounded by animals.

The drug itself was fairly benign as far as its effects on the human body, but it's effects on those around the human body were still uncertain.

The first round of testing used several federal prisoners who were given a small dose of the drug, then ordered to read instructions to a single mouse. Researchers found that complex instructions could not be followed, and they surmised it was because the pheremonal instructions were only getting through—after all, mice don't speak English.