Chapter 7: Senior Moments

Jaime and Emerson

WHEN CLASSES STARTED in the fall, Jaime was pretty proud to be a senior. He’d already begun making applications to colleges where he could continue his computer science study and also explore some of the psychological aspects of mental communication. It looked like he wouldn’t need to go far from home as both Oregon and Washington had schools with great programs.

He was happy to have his friend Emerson back in his advanced computer science class and she was intrigued with the improvements he’d made on his text to speech engine. The voice was unique and the intonations were clear and insightful.

“How did you manage to get the voice to sound so natural?” Emerson asked. “I’ve never heard a text to speech app sound like a person was actually speaking.”

“Music,” Jaime typed on his computer. The voice was a little loud, so he reduced the volume. He didn’t want to disturb other classmates. “I like classical music and I discovered that Wagner intended to be a dramatist, but was unhappy with how actors interpreted his words. So, he wrote music for them and became a great operatic composer.”

“So, you set it all to music? It isn’t singing.”

“No. I just used notes to indicate relative tone and length. Then I fed it a few hundred phrases and sentences. I had it read the entire Dark Love series aloud so I could tune the voice. It probably has a more romantic sound to it than is strictly necessary,” Jaime typed.

“I like it. It’s really ... sexy. Nice job. What do you plan for this year’s project?” Emerson asked.

“Mr. Perkins kind of shot down my idea as needing more research than could be accomplished in this class,” Jaime said. The computer voice sounded sheepish and Emerson was amazed at that.

“What was it?”

“I’m interested in people being able to speak to each other mentally,” he typed.

“Mental telepathy?”

“Technically, all telepathy is mental. But Mr. Perkins pointed out that people have tried and failed to do it for years.”

“It’s a cool idea, but I guess I see his point.”

“Besides, last year’s major project was mine. This year we should focus on a project you choose,” Jaime typed.

“Oh. Well, I had a really great time in Paris this spring and summer. You know I’m kind of into fashion,” Emerson said.

That was something that couldn’t be told from her looks, Jaime thought. She was a nice-looking girl, but always dressed in kind of shapeless clothing, wore no makeup that he could tell, and seemed to have no sense of style at all. He was surprised when she opened her bag and pulled out a stack of fashion magazines, some in English and some in French.

“When you look at these magazines, you see that a major theme all the way through is predicting what will be in style in the next season. Some of them follow the big style advances from the major designers and runway shows, while others are more localized or seasonal. My grandmother said that when she was a girl, ‘in’ meant ‘in the JC Penney catalog.’ But I think I could use AI predictive algorithms to predict things like the most popular color for next year.”

“Cool! I’m in.”

Jaime and The Voice

Even though Jaime had conceded the idea of his thought broadcasting software as too complicated for his computer science class, it still fascinated him and he continued to work on it—mostly at home. He wanted to either broadcast thoughts through the synthesizer, or awaken the inner ear of someone so they could hear his thoughts.

He had a favorite tree on the school grounds that was located far enough from where most students hung out that he often went there with his lunch. It had been a fairly mild fall, so he decided to put on his jacket and go there, even though it was near the end of October and getting chilly. He settled under the tree and opened the notebook in which he was keeping track of his ideas to explore for mental communication. He didn’t think anyone could make sense of his writing since he still used the elegant Spencerian script that only a few of his classmates could read.

He’d decided there might be an element of actual physical contact involved in mental communication, as he was touching his mother when she spoke to him just before she died.

«Be quiet! You’re broadcasting your thoughts all over. Anyone could hear you. Stop thinking so loud!»

Jaime slammed his book shut as though someone was reading over his shoulder. He recognized that voice. She had once told him not to believe people’s fantasies.

«Who are you?» he thought frantically. «Where are you?»

Only silence answered.

Keira and Aunt Rose

“Need to talk. Coming from school,” Keira texted Aunt Rose. She boarded the crosstown bus from in front of the school and shut herself off from the world. She was pretty good at that now. She could usually go a whole day in school without being consciously aware of anyone’s thoughts.

Unless that boy was shouting. She couldn’t believe the whole city didn’t hear him.

There were kids in school who talked loudly with their mouths all the time. She wondered sometimes if they had a hearing problem and couldn’t tell how loudly they spoke. They could be heard across the cafeteria at lunch. If they whispered to the person next to them in class, everyone in the room could hear them.

This guy, Zipper Lips, was like that in her head. If she stopped to think about him in school, she could hear him over all the others in the building. She’d had two classes with him and had sworn not to ever speak mentally to him.

But he was so stupid! How could he possibly have thought it was a good idea to ask a girl out just because she had a momentary fantasy about his tentacle dick. Keira had been irrationally upset about that and yelled at him. Then realizing what she’d done, she quickly shut down her inner voice and ears. She’d promised herself never to do that again.

Until today. He was actually working on a computerized thought amplifier that could force other people to hear his thoughts. What a catastrophe that would be! If he could force his thoughts on someone, they’d be as torn up and confused as she’d been when she first got her inner ears. That was her term for being able to listen to other people’s thoughts.

Being able to listen. Hah! More like being forced to listen. What a terrible time that had been.

Her first menstrual cycle and all of a sudden, she was hearing voices. She thought she was going crazy! She couldn’t tell her mother. She’d either pooh-pooh the whole idea, or she’d rush Keira to a doctor. Her only logical choice was to talk to crazy Aunt Rose. If Aunt Rose told anyone Keira could hear other people’s thoughts, no one would pay any attention. Aunt Rose was a psychiatrist.

She wasn’t her ‘real’ aunt. At least neither Keira’s mother or father claimed her as a sister. But they’d been friends forever and Keira grew up calling her Aunt Rose. When it came to getting advice about hearing voices in her head, there was no one better to talk to than Aunt Rose.

Aunt Rose’s house was peaceful, too. Keira wasn’t sure, but she thought it might have something to do with the aluminum siding. She just knew that when she went into the house, it was quiet. There were no voices in her head, and Aunt Rose was like a blank. Keira’s parents had once laughed about Rose, saying she didn’t have a thought in her head. Keira could verify that. She could not read anything from her aunt.

“Hearing voices? Hmm. That’s an interesting side effect of getting your first period. Let’s have a little tea and talk about it.” No judgment. No panic. Just acceptance and a cup of tea.

While neither acknowledging nor denying that Keira heard people’s thoughts, Aunt Rose had taught Keira how to block them out and how to keep her own thoughts from being read by others. Keira was terribly afraid of that because she often had ‘uncharitable’ thoughts about other people. She didn’t need them hearing those thoughts.

Like that stupid boy. She’d told him to stop broadcasting so loudly and he’d answered her! It wasn’t like he couldn’t hear others, but he almost got her name before she managed to shut him out.

Keira got off the bus a block from her aunt’s house and hurried to the door. Rose let her in immediately. Everything went silent.

“Hearing voices again?” Rose asked as soon as they sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea.

“Yeah,” Keira said.

“Did you do the exercises I taught you?”

“Yes. They usually work just fine, but this one boy was shouting. He always shouts,” Keira said. She stirred a full teaspoon of sugar into her bitter tea.

“Hmm. Lonely people often do that,” Rose said. “They get louder and louder to get people’s attention. Maybe not anyone in particular, but anyone. Have you met him?” She offered Keira a tin of cookies and Keira grinned as she took three.

“Sort of. I had a class with him last year and have one with him this year. He doesn’t know me, though. I’ve just shut him out. But I yelled at him today and told him to stop broadcasting so loudly. It’s dangerous.”

“How so?”

“He’s really smart. I know I said he’s stupid, but that’s only about people. Last year, he created a text to speech application for his computer and the voice sounds pretty normal. But now he’s trying to figure out how to force other people to hear his thoughts.”

“That sounds sinister.”

“I think ... I believe he’s benign. But if someone who wasn’t got hold of his invention ... Do you think someone could force another person to do something by talking in his head?” Keira paused with a soggy cookie halfway to her mouth as she contemplated the idea.

“According to Psychiatry Professional magazine, around 10% of people hear voices in their heads at some time or another. About half have an active inner dialog. Some portion of the remainder—number unspecified—can’t identify inner dialog and believe someone else is speaking to them. That is often malicious. Do you remember Dottie Brown? She’s doing okay now as long as she stays on her meds. She caused a serious accident a few years ago when a voice in her head told her to turn her car the wrong way on a freeway exit. Several people, including Dottie, were rushed to hospitals after the collision and one died. That evidence suggests that an unknown voice could plant a malevolent thought in a person’s mind.”