Psychic Warrior by Robert Doherty

Author:Robert Doherty [Doherty, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Science Fiction, Fiction, General, Adventure, War stories, High Tech, Parapsychology - Military aspects, Remote viewing (Parapsychology), Parapsychology, Espionage, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9780440236252
Publisher: Dell
Published: 2000-08-08T05:00:00+00:00

Dalton had refused the shot from Dr. Hammond this time. He had always been able to sleep when he needed to. He had slept on many an aircraft, fully rigged with 48 pounds of parachute, 140 pounds of rucksack attached to the rig dangling between his knees on the cargo bay floor, helmet pulled down over his eyes, weapon tied off to his right shoulder, while men threw up around him from the turbulence of a low-level-flight infiltration.

Sleep when you could was a lesson that had been beaten into him from too many missions when he hadn’t been able to. But sleep was coming slowly right now for different reasons. He lay back on the bunk and stared at the concrete ceiling.

Dalton closed his eyes. The image of the concrete ceiling remained. But this one was smooth, not like the other one. The one where Dalton had counted every single mark on it. Memorized them, then begun using his imagination, the only thing he had left, on it. He’d made a world out of that ceiling only four feet above his mat on the floor. He couldn’t stand in the cell, so he’d lie there, legs always bent, and stare at the ceiling.

There were the faintest outlines on the ceiling, brown marks from some time when water had been in the cell, perhaps when the nearby river had flooded, that made up the continents and oceans of Dalton’s imaginary world.

He put countries inside those continents. His favorite land had been Far Country, a land settled by the persecuted of Old Country. Dalton had invented the entire history of those people leaving the homeland, the travel across the huge Middle Ocean, to arrive in Far Country. A land where there was no war. No need for armies, because no one would follow them across the Middle Ocean.

It was not a land of plenty, but rather a hard land. Another reason no one would dare the terrible ocean to come there. There was nothing to conquer but empty space. Endless plains, running into the High Mountains. And beyond the High Mountains were even more wonderful and strange lands.

But in Dalton’s history the people of Far Country loved their land. And the peace made any hardship brought on by the land or weather more than bearable. Because there was nothing that nature could do that could be worse than what men did to other men.

Dalton could see the High Mountains, particularly Dunnigan’s Peak, the white summit shimmering to the west. He’d climbed the mountain numerous times, using a different approach each time. The view from the top reached back over the Plains to the Middle Ocean, the water—

‘‘Sergeant Major!’’

Dalton was alert in an instant, rolling to the side away from the voice, hand reaching behind his back pulling out his nine-millimeter pistol, before his eyes focused on Lieutenant Jackson’s face. The RVer looked exhausted.

Dalton took a deep breath. ‘‘What?’’

Jackson looked to her left and right. ‘‘I have to talk to you.’’

‘‘Talk,’’ Dalton said, lowering the hammer on the gun and putting it back in its holster.

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