Solomon's Private File #111
These stories about Stephen and Solomon take place starting in
1950's. Stephen wrote about his life in letters to a penpal, and then
in a secure blog, in case he lost his memory again, in the master
computer in his school for gifted students, which he started attending
in 2016 in a new incarnation, until his death. Now his son Solomon is
attending the same school, and is writing in his own secure blog for
his future incarnations.
All characters are fictitious, even if some of them might have names
that belong to some actual people, or act like people we know.
Solomon is 18 in this story, in the Fall of 2044.
Solomon's Private File #111 "East and West Mobs"
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"Oh, I'm in trouble!" He grinned and said, "No. Not yet, anyway. You
have people all over the galaxy stopping wars and doing other things I
probably wouldn't understand, but you, the best of them, and the
leader, are here, doing not nearly as much as I know you are capable
of. I know you shouldn't do more on Earth, but out there where
everything is new and different, and exciting?" I said, "My people
asked me the same thing. They do call on me to fix problems they can't
think of answers to, mostly involving psychology. Well, to me,
practically everything with intelligent beings involves psychology. But
most of the times they don't need me, and that's good for them. By
nature and interest, I'm a research psychologist, not some action hero.
Not even a real leader, although when I'm required to be, I try to do a
good job. So, for who I am, being on the planet with the most
psychologically screwed up people in the whole galaxy, is where I
should be. LOTS of study and work here. And, I'm needed here." He
nodded, and said, "I'm not sure I'll ever understand, but I'll have to
accept it."
He said, "We're having a problem. Organized crime in New York. We've
tried some stings, and got stung ourselves. We tried to insert
undercover operatives. They didn't get anywhere. Those who tried too
hard, were killed. We tried to do some of that without coordinating
with the police, suspecting them of collusion, but nothing changed.
Bugs are detected almost as soon as they're planted. It's been two
years now, and we've made absolutely no progress. Just recently, the
same things have started in L.A." I said, "What do you suspect?" He
said, "Psionics?" I said, "With the rise in overall health, including
mental health, more and more people are becoming aware of their psionic
abilities. One of the basics is feeling peoples' emotions. When you're
with them, you can't be deceived. The other basic ability is the object
sense. You kind of see and feel things around you, inside and out. But
in most people, those abilities are limited and unreliable. But there
are levels in that. Could be they have some now who's abilities are
reliable enough to be useful. There are issues with what I can do
against them. If they don't use their special abilities directly to
harm people, I can't take them away. And they probably couldn't. Those
abilities are senses, passive in nature. Having psionic special agents
won't help at all, except that THEY couldn't be deceived. It wouldn't
help them to deceive others."
He said, "Could you give us a device that would jam those senses?" I
said, "Yes, but that would be like a siren in their awareness, REALLY
alerting them to danger. And most people would feel it, even if they
weren't noticeably psionic." He said, "What about you?" I said, "In
person, there is no way for somebody to hide his psionics from another
psi, if they have the ability to sense it. And me, even if their
ability to see auras is limited, mine would almost blind them. I can
block your seeing it, but not them. But I can operate remotely, and
mostly undetectably. Not with an image, though. They would er, see
you asking me to beg?" I said, "Gold nameplate?" He laughed. I said,
"Turn one of the psis, if he's working in isolation. Get the goods on
him, solid, and maybe he'll turn. That will only work if the group is
using just one of them. Got two, and the other will know. Say you turn
one, and he's on the job. Then another one comes into the picture.
Turned one will have to accuse the new guy of being a plant, just to
save his own neck. Same for the new guy. Who gets in the first
accusation is likely to win, if either of them do. Chancy thing all
around." He said, "Could you finger them for us?" I said, "Sure."
I said, "There is another ploy. I could snoop. Even time dive. Some
of that could go on the internet. The psi will be questioned about
that, severely. They'll look for bugs, and find them right where the
points of view would indicate they would be, ported into place right
then. Really discredit the psi. More of that, and he's gone." He said,
"That's sneaky!" I said with exaggerated modesty, "I know." He laughed.
I said, "Want something worse? Hey, it's not like candy." Laughter. I
said, "Could plant bugs on the bosses. Would the psi tell? Tell who?
And if he did, what would happen?" He said, "Oh boy! No, you're wrong.
That IS like candy. To us, anyway." I said, "Then what I could offer
next, could make you a diabetic." He said, "Give!" I said, "You're no
fun. Oh, alright. What if I replace a gift from somebody the boss
trusted, with a lookalike bug? No, I was NOT that long dead Italian
political smarty." He laughed. I said, "More. Laptop computers have
microphones. I can activate them with some custom spyware, and have
them transmit through the internet. Same for webcams. Phones, too. Psi
won't detect that. Got court orders for wiretap, and I can even do that
legally. And not just me. Any of my direct students can do all of this
without me poking at them. But I'll have to be the front man to your
agents who are listening and recording it all, to set up the
connections. I'm in the open, not my students."
I said, "This is interesting. The New York big boss usually caries
the same pen in his pocket. Fancy and engraved. I just used an image to
tell your team leader what I plan to do, and he reacted a lot like you
did, but with some more interesting words." Chuckles. "He's got some
equipment on the right frequency, and the bug tests out well. Perps are
at a meeting, but breaking up. Second in command brushed against the
boss accidentally. I switched the bosses pen, with mine. Working well.
Psi didn't notice a thing. Wasn't paying attention, and I was smooth. I
worked on their phones, too. Team is on their signals. That's all for
now. When the pen is discovered, I'll make sure the boss remembers what
his second did." He said in fascination, "I can guess how this could
play out. Wow! Would your people have thought of this?" I said,
"They're saying, besides wow, that it's way too twisted for them to
have thought of it." He laughed and said, "I don't doubt it." I said,
"It's not over. More twists to come." He looked REALLY interested in
that.
A week later, I put some videos from the pen on the internet. They
knew right away where they came from, and looked at the pen, and saw it
wasn't engraved, and had a pinhole camera in it. Second was brought in
by some mob soldiers, and was told about the pencam. He protested his
innocence. He was searched, and the original pen was found on him. He
said, "I don't know how that got there, I swear it! On my mother's
grave!" Boss slapped him hard, making him cry. Boss told one of his
men, after stomping on the pencam, "Deal with this scum. But not here."
The enforcer and the two other men went out and into a car. They drove
to an out of the way spot. A very run down section of the city, on the
waterfront. The sun had set, and it was dark. They pulled him out of
the car. All of a sudden, they were surrounded by Special Agents and
local police from the task force. They surrendered. At the police
station, they had to let the enforcer and soldiers go, because the
second wouldn't press charges of kidnapping. Then they said to him,
"Alright, you can go." He said, "But they'll kill me!"
The agent said, "But we let them go, because you wouldn't press
charges. Are you fucking crazy?" He said, "You've got to protect me!"
Agent said, "Actually, no we don't. We know who you are. One less of
you is fine with us." He said, "Protect me, and I'll testify!" Agent
said, "Against those three?" He said, "Sure! Absolutely! My word!"
Agent said, "Witness protection is very expensive. That's not enough.
We want the whole bunch. Your boss and everything." He said, "But
they'll kill me!" Agent said, "They were already going to kill you.
Couldn't get any worse, could it?" He said, "Oh. I want immunity!"
Agent said, "Depends on what we get from you that we can prove. Our
federal prosecutor will talk with the local DA about it. Could take a
while. We'll put you in a secure place. Want to earn that, give us
something now. A job you know about, maybe." He did. He said, "We might
be able to use that. While you're here, you could tell us about what
you can tell us, so our prosecutor will have something useful to tell
the DA who wants to throw the book at you. Right. Give us good stuff,
and we can make a better deal for you. We all win." He talked his head
almost off.
I gave all that to the Director, the next day. He had a lot of wows
to give. Then he said, "What about the three hit men? Didn't they have
to go after them?" I said, "It will be in the report. They weren't
allowed to go far. Er, down the hall, actually." He said in awe, "You
would make a great Special Agent!" I said, "What am I now, chopped
liver?" He laughed. I said, "I'm actually still a special member of the
Anchorage police department. That was never canceled." He looked
thoughtful. I said, "Could be problems with what you're thinking. Not
good for world opinion for them to think the FBI is my boss. Anything
else you have in mind, but honorary, and I don't do honorary, would
have to have approvals up the chain. They might not want made official
that I act as I see fit, and they have to live with it." He chuckled,
and said, "True. Even we here know I'm not your boss, that you do what
you want, sometimes agreeing with us, and sometimes not. Amazing that
you actually ask permission most of the times." I said, "Doesn't hurt
to be nice. And I get to watch your facial gymnastics." He had to
laugh.
I used similar tactics against the L.A. mob. The results were
similar, but the psi was beat up for not detecting it, and ran. He was
in a motel in Seattle, when I said in the air in his room, "Hi Jorge.
You've been associating with some rough people." He said, looking
around, "Who are you? Where are you?" I said, "I'm at home with my
wife. Doing something like what you were doing, but a LOT more fun." He
hurriedly covered himself up. I said, "That doesn't help. I can see
through things like you can, but thousands of times better. Not that I
actually want to right now. But if you keep doing that, who knows, it
might actually get bigger." He said, "I don't think it works that way."
I said, "But there are ways that do work. Most are actually harmful,
but one actually does work on adults. Ha, I see your interest. Here's
how. You tie a weight to the end of your penis, with a soft cloth. 2kg
or so. If you don't have a real set of weights, a large can of tomato
sauce would work, but you might want to start lighter and work up to
it. While it's er, attached, you stand for up to an hour. Most do that
when they're cooking and washing dishes. I don't recommend more than
two separate hours a day, because the tying can reduce the blood flow
to the tip of the penis. I know it's not the most convenient thing for
your er, thing improvement, but after about six months of that, you
should have noticeable improvement. For some, after a year, up to 7cm
of increased length, and with increased diameter, has been reported.
And the only damage has been a few broken toes. I think you can guess
why." He chuckled. I said, "I know, I could have made that sound more
I said, "I hope you weren't thinking I didn't know that." He said,
"Sorry. So it's really true about the enlargement." I said, "Yes, it
is. Few actually bother do do it, though. Most in er, need, fall for
the advertisements and use the vacuum equipment. Some of those people
ended up with less, after corrective surgery. Then it's back to the way
they were, after a healing. But the dangling weight method is like
weight lifting. Body builders don't lose the extra muscles they build,
in a healing, because that isn't damage. Except to their old shirts."
He chuckled. He said, "Thank you for the advice, but I think the real
reason you're talking to me is for the first things you said. I worked
for bad people." I said, "Yes, you did. It was a very dangerous thing
to do. You know your talents aren't perfectly reliable. You should have
known what would happen if you failed them in an important thing, and
that it was bound to happen someday. You could have been killed!" He
shuddered and said, "I was really stupid! I realize that now." I said,
"Don't expect me to disagree with you about that." He chuckled. Then he
said in surprise, "Did you help? So they wouldn't kill me?" I said,
"Oh, I'm SO exposed!" He said in awe, "I don't know how to thank you
enough! But how did you know?" I said, "First, you can thank me
perfectly, by being a good person and helping people. How I knew, is I
sometimes watch some FBI operations in a kind of background process.
Your psionics triggered my attention. It's not good for me and my
group, if the public finds out that some people misuse the kinds of
abilities we have, so I watch for that." He made a big silent oh. He
said, "I'm really sorry about that. I have to agree. I won't do it
again!" I said, "That's my hope."
He cried and said, "It's so hard to believe you care so much about
me, a criminal, that you're being so kind." I said, "And that's so sad
that such a thing is so rare, that it makes it so hard to believe. I
think we should do more of it all over, to make it less rare and more
believable. I hope you agree." He said, "Oh I do! I think you're a
Saint!" I said, "They don't become so until after they're dead. I think
you might not want to be wishing that on me too soon." He looked really
odd, and said, "Oh. Right. But you know what I mean." I said, "Actually
I do. Buddhists recognize living Saints, and proclaimed my father to be
one. They were correct." He said, "You are like him?" I said, "I can't
lie, so I'm not going to tell you. Embarrassing. Anyway, I've used up
enough of your time. I have a kind of very unusual gift I can offer
you. I interrupted your er, activity. I can help you to complete it,
and better than you believe is possible, by stimulating your skin's
nerve endings directly. Will you allow me to give you that experience?"
He was really embarrassed, but gathered up his courage and said, "Er,
please. And thank you!" I said, "This will end our conversation. May
God always be with you, and may you always deserve His love." I stroked
him with love, until he squirted hard, with some loud noises.
Galya said, "That was the strangest therapy session I've ever heard
of!" I said, "I have to agree. Might work. That's all that really
matters. But don't expect me to make every criminal squirt. I don't
like earplugs." She giggled and poked me.
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Grant
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