Orientation

Jamie continued to eat the snacks he'd brought from the table, only half listening, looking up occasionally, but really having lost interest after the high sounding pretentious words started flying around. Can't even call call ghosts ghosts anymore. Icy road on a mountainside in Kelowna and this is where I end up? He signed the paper as it moved around, as if I would talk about this.

"Thank you all," Robert said as he slipped everyone's NDA back into his folder.

"Well, that concludes everything I had at this time -- our investigative team will be along soon for questions and your tour, and I'll see you all for your briefing." He smiled politely, gathered his things, and headed for the door.

The people left at the table mostly wore expressions of disbelief and confusion. A few were quietly collecting their thoughts.

One man -- Ian -- began to laugh incredulously. "Don't let this fool you. They're putting on a damn good show, but I think we've all been had."

Aidan let out a soft, open-mouthed chuckle in spite of himself. He couldn't stop smiling, mostly because he was too bewildered to think of any other expression. Could this be possible?

"Yes b'y! I think the arse fell outta me! Are we gone mad 'ere, er did that jus' happen?"

Another man with a Newfoundland accent -- John Rideout, according to his nametag -- piped up. "They paid a lot to fly us here," he said, scratching his head. "Everybody with that kind o' money lies about something."

Ian waved a hand dismissively. "Listen, this is obviously staged. You ever see -- what was it called -- Joe Schmo? Or something like that? The guy who thought he was on Big Brother, but they set him up to win, everybody around him was just an actor, you know the one? Well, we all just landed a spot on season two," he rasped through a sarcastic smirk. "Nobody puts this much money into playing Ghostbusters. Nobody but Hollywood, anyway."

"Everyone 'as ghosts. they jist don't alwus manifest themselves. an' not alwus in de seem ways. oi'm not sure aboyt de kip av yer, but oi believe in ghosts or other supernatural beings. Ah've seen it meself. plus al' kind av things in Oirlan', many ov dem naw wan can explain." Karamia spoke quietly.

Jamie eats his meal and drinks his coffee and listens to the conversation but really has nothing to add to it.

Chris listened and watched everyone chat and banter about the subject of ghosts. She leaned forward slightly.

"They've sure paid a good price for this ghost story. What if it is all true? They've managed to make a sort of empire out of this niche market. What would it take for you all to believe them? More money, a supernatural experience? Or did we all just come here to take a nice vacation and collect on someone else's dollar?"

"Oi'm not sure aboyt anyone else but sittin' in meetings al' day isn't me idea ov a vacashun.
oi flew al' de way from Oirlan' for dis so oi'm gonna sit 'ere an' fend oyt wot tey want from
me. oi'm sure if oi allerge it oi can git me arse back on a plane & continue wi' me life."

A hispanic woman, Esperanza, furrowed her brow at Karamia before a blank look indicated finally giving up on the idea of understanding her.

Ian shrugged at Chris. "I'm not saying one way or the other whether there are ghosts, or 'PLEs', or whatever we're supposed to call them. I'm saying I think we're being set up to look like suckers on TV. There's no way a company that does this kind of work could turn the profits for this kind of facility. Who pays ten thousand dollars for a week-long job interview? A studio, that's who, and only when they're recording it and pre-selling ad space."

Jamie leans back, "ghosts would know where all the bodies are buried ... so to speak."

" 'tis still $10,000 so does it really matter?" Karamia asked. " Oi wonder 'oy long we're gonna
be 'ere the-day."

"Just look out for hidden cameras, is all I'm saying," Ian muttered, surreptitiously scanning the ceiling.

"Staged or not, I look forward to somethin' new," said John. "Better'n fallin' off boats all the time," he added with a grin to Aidan.

A woman with blonde, spiky hair entered the room. "Good afternoon, everyone, I'm Kate Dennison, an Orpheus Group Investigative Consultant," she announced from the doorway. "The rest of my team will join us soon. I'm glad you could all make it today," she said, her eyes landing on Jamie, "and I hope this will be a worthwhile experience for all of you. For now, if you could all follow me, please."

She waited as the group gathered before leading them deeper into the building. The tour led through the kitchen and cafeteria on the first floor. Kate pointed out the other two meeting rooms (one an amphitheater for presentations, another set up for video conference calls with clients), a separate cafeteria for the research staff, and the executive dining room (which more resembled the elegance of a five-star restaurant).

"We won't be going upstairs today," Kate explained. "That's where all of the administrative offices are. It's a busy Wednesday; we'll let them work. Besides, everything interesting is downstairs."

Ian shot a knowing look to anyone who'd pay attention.

When they reached the elevators, the tour met up with a twenty-something slender man with a shaved head who introduced himself as John Carruthers, part of Kate's team. The tour group took both key-card-accessed elevators down -- the elevator buttons revealed not one sub-level, but four. Sub-basement one was a brief stop to show employee parking.

They descended another floor. This level had high ceilings and a clean look like a new college dormitory building. "Sub Two is where Orpheus Group houses and trains projectors," Kate explained.

"It's also where we keep all the fun stuff," said Carruthers. John opened the nearest door, revealing a room the size of a field house, albeit with a moderately lower ceiling. He led them along the running track. "This is our gymnasium; we have a full-length basketball court, as you can see, plus a track for when the Chicago weather doesn't hold. And, on the other side of the partition, free weights and plenty of top-of-the-line fitness equipment, to suit whatever workout you have in mind, unless you're a swimmer, like me," he quipped. "On the far side: locker rooms, steam room, sauna, Jacuzzi -- all of it open twenty-four hours. Oh, and laundry facilities."

The group moved on down the hall, where Kate introduced them to the four classrooms (each outfitted with whiteboards, built-in A/V equipment, and facilities for a dozen students) and three training rooms (one equipped for yoga, one for self-defense, and one multipurpose room). John, in turn, showed everyone the rec room, set with two pool tables, a kitchenette, vending machines, an Xbox, a PS3, a Wii, two game tables, a closet full of board games, and two couches and four recliners facing a home theater system with surround sound.

"If hired, while training, you'll stay in our dormitory block," Kate explained, opening the door to one of the currently empty dorms. Furnishings here were somewhat spartan compared to what had already been shown on the tour: built-in dressers and mirrors, two twin beds, two small desks, two closets, one bathroom. "Orpheus' facilities can house up to twenty on-site Investigative Consultants in training."

"I wish we could show you Sub Three," John said with a rueful smile, "that's where all the action happens."

Kate nodded, leading the group back toward the elevators. "But that requires background checks and security clearance. Sub-level Three is where we keep what we call 'sleeper cradles,' the company's cryogenic stasis pods. It's also where the skimmer lounge is located. More on those terms in a little while."

The tour returned to the initial meeting room, where three men stood waiting for them. One was tall and muscular, bald, with caramel-colored skin and a broad, ethnically ambiguous face. The second was of average height, a bit slouched in his posture, pale and thin, with a narrow nose and curly auburn hair kept short. The last must have been seventy years old, standing with the help of a cane -- he had a cleft chin and heavy eyebrows, and a full head of short white hair.

"Everyone, let me introduce you to the rest of my team," Kate offered. "This is Ben Cotton, Hoyt Masterson, and Chet Mason. Now, does anyone have any questions about the tour, or about Investigative Consulting?"

Karamia walked over to the refreshment table & made herself a cup of coffee.

When she returned to her seat, she asked, " 'tis a nice set up yer 'av down dare. So 'oy does dis al' work? We git evaluated, yer decide ter 'ire
us or not, & den wot? We live 'ere? 'oy long does de trainin' last?"

"Training depends on the kind of recruitment track you're on," Kate started. Then, aside to her team, she said, "I need some water, you guys mind?"

Hoyt spoke up. His voice carried a distinct southern accent. "Orpheus trains two kinds of projectors. Everyone starts off as a 'Sleeper' -- you go under, they freeze you, and you're free to wander. While you're under, we train you in how to move from your body, how to interact with spirits -- excuse me, PLEs -- even how to push back through and interact with the physical world. Different personality types require different training. I, for instance, am a Type Two, so I learn to influence objects."

Kate interrupted, cracking open her bottle of water. "We're going to cover more about personality types in the briefing."

"Right," said Hoyt. "Everyone picks up on training at a different speed. Your first time under lasts for about a week. Usually it's, what, eight to twelve weeks in training?" He looked to a few nodding members of his team for confirmation. "You go under about once a month. While training, yes, you live here."

"Think of it like boot camp," said Carruthers. Chet -- the man with the cane -- twitched a little smirk.

Hoyt continued. "Then they evaluate your talent for 'Skimming'. Skimmers don't need to be frozen any more: they learn to project by meditating. The five of us are all Skimmers. We can't stay under as long as Sleepers, but we tend to be more mobile. Instead of being put under and then traveling, we can go there in-body, then project in the field. There's no rank involved, or anything; Skimmers aren't 'promoted,' they just learn other ways that mix with their personalities."

"Oi canny be de only wan tinkin yer off yer nut.
how can yer be sure we'll be able ter return ter our bodies?"

Chris went along on the tour with her curious, cautious and wandering eyes. Once back in the room her head was a buzz with questions. One of the more nagging ones she couldn't help but blurt out.

"Mr. Carruthers, when I met you at my office were you..."

Her fingers flared in frustration and her brows creased trying to find a normal way to explain what she was thinking.

"Were you... real, like your real self? Or was that a projection?"

Hoyt fielded Karamia's question. "If anyone ever figures out how to stay zeroed out after they're defrosted, they'd be the first. Orpheus uses a solution we call 'superblood' that keeps the body between life and death. The cells stay healthy, and brain activity slows but doesn't stop. Jane Kennedy was frozen for five years... you'll survive a week, I promise." He smiled gently.

"But let's not get ahead of ourselves," Kate was quick to add. "Going under is not part of the evaluation process," she reassured.

Quote :

"Were you... real, like your real self? Or was that a projection?"

After Chris put him on the spot, Carruthers glanced sideways to Kate. "They all signed their NDAs, right?"

She nodded.

"I was projecting, yes," he confessed with a winning smile. "That's why you didn't get a call from the front desk."

Aidan wasn't speechless very often, but this conversation did it.

Ghosts an' undergroun' dormitories an' superblood an' freezin' people... picked one hell of a time t' visit America, didn't ye b'y? In his head, he was reeling. He quietly munched on his snacks and waited to see if anyone else had anything to add, and what unbelievable thing would come out of these people's mouths next.

Despite the reassurances Karamia wasn't too sure about this. It didn't sound very safe to her.

"It doesn't matter ter me if 'tis part if de evaluashun or not, oi want ter nu wot oi'm gittin' meself into if oi git 'ired. 'oy can we be sure dis is safe? an' wot about yer superblud?"

Her mouth gaped and her eyes stared incredulously.

"Now that just doesn't make sense. I could see you and interact with you, are you telling me no one else can see you? Can you choose who sees you and who doesn't? Can you see and interact with PLE's this way? Can you get hurt while projecting?"

Chris was definitely losing a bit of her composure, she needed clarification but she only stopped questioning when she finally heard herself rambling.

Karamia O'Brien wrote:

"It doesn't matter ter me if 'tis part if de evaluashun or not, oi want ter nu wot oi'm gittin' meself into if oi git 'ired. 'oy can we be sure dis is safe? an' wot about yer superblud?"

Kate interjected in an even, disinterested tone. "Since the JDG days, we've used this process to save people's lives. If our tech team kept Jane Kennedy under for several years, you're at no danger over the course of a week or two."

John chimed in, "We have a fully equipped medical bay on Sub Three, with continuous monitoring, and on-site doctors available around the clock. With all the money Orpheus puts into recruiting and evaluation, Investigative Consultant safety is just good business." He smiled warmly, a stark contrast from Kate's unemotional demeanor.

Chris wrote:

"Now that just doesn't make sense. I could see you and interact with you, are you telling me no one else can see you? Can you choose who sees you and who doesn't? Can you see and interact with PLE's this way? Can you get hurt while projecting?"

John didn't break his smile. "Actually, everyone could see me, but I appeared in the bathroom while it was unoccupied and just walked to your desk -- manifesting is one of the first tricks we learn. We can see PLEs at all times. Some are more aware than others, but none of them can tell us from the rest of the living unless we contact or react to them.

"It's possible to get hurt while projecting -- but don't be alarmed, it's rare. Usually, we're better off projecting to avoid getting hurt."

Chris nodded, she was obviously fascinated now.

"Can you tell the PLE's from normal people? Do they like walk around with the ailments that they had at their death or do they appear the same as they were in life? Oh and are you projecting now?"

She asked simply and rather quickly.

"So sorry for all the questions. This is just fascinating!"

(Sorry for delays... had a few days of madness to contend with. Ought to be back on track now.)

"No one's projecting now," John offered, consoling a few people suddenly alarmed by that thought. "We can always tell the living apart. We mentioned before that PLEs have different levels of self-awareness -- generally, the more self-aware, the closer to life they appear. Entities that we call "drones" or "static repeaters" continue the same set of actions at scheduled times, regardless of what happens around them, and aren't capable of higher thought or speech. They usually look the most like they did at the time of their death."

The session continued for roughly another twenty minutes before the ICs led the orientation group to the cafeteria for dinner. Three tables were set up with seating by team, each also assigned one of the ICs. Pearce, Howard, McCarron, O'Brien, Blightheart, Carruthers, read the place cards.

"Help yourselves," Kate offered, pointing out the buffet. There were hot sandwiches, fried chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetable stir fry, soups, fresh salads... fairly typical cafeteria fare, but of an excellent quality. "We'll have forty-five minutes for dinner, and then your briefing." Everyone dispersed and began to form a line for food.

Jamie takes his plate of chicken and veggies back to the table and pours himself a tall glass of water and ice. He sits and eats in silence, considering all that he has heard so far.

Karamia's started rumbling when she smelled the food. It looked so good, & she hadn't realized how hungry she was. She stood quietly in line contemplating everything that had happened so far. It was quite a lot to take in.
When her turn came to fill up her plate, she grabbed some fried chicken, mashed potatoes, & a salad. She quickly hurried to her seat after grabbing a soda.