“Of course, there are no mannequins inside, only my spiritual guides.”

The minister turned to Lucas. “He believes this stuff.”

They walked in. “But don’t you, Minister?” the Professor asked.

“What? Believe that stuff? No . . . no. I’m a Christian, mate. God forbids us to consult such things.”

Their talk concerned Lucas. He looked around the house. He sensed an evil presence.

Lucas heard something.

“I must stop calling you the mad professor because you’re not mad, but a good friend. Lucas probably doesn’t even know your real name. Do you, Lucas?

Lucas, still looking for the source of noise, turned back towards the minister. “Yes, I know his name. It’s the nutty professor.” His humour always came out when stressed. He wasn’t afraid of much, but invisible things and voices in his head spooked him.

They laughed. They sat around the coffee table. The minister placed his phone on the coffee table.

“No it’s not the nutty professor. It’s Bruce Starke, if you all don’t mind.

“I knew that,” Lucas said.

The Professor walked out of the room and came back with some beer cans. He threw one to Lucas and another to the minister.

“You know, Lucas,” the Professor said, sitting on a chair facing them, “someone once asked me where thoughts come from. That question sent me off on a journey. I started reading lots and lots of books, new age books as they’re referred to. I met many people also looking for the source of their thoughts. I came to believe in reincarnation and started visiting people who could tell the future and some who fixed up the holes in my aura.”

“Holes in the aura?” Lucas mentally changed the man’s name to Mad Nutty Professor.

“That’s why he’s so skinny, Lucas. Things leak out of him.” The minister laughed, “He needed to be patched up. And Lucas . . . you know that impressive thing on your face, the goatee and moustache? If you removed the moustache and trimmed the goatee, just leaving a small patch, do you know what the remaining patch is called?”

“You got me there.”

“A soul patch.” The minister paused, thoughtfully. “I think that blends in with what we’re talking about.”

The Professor continued, ignoring the minister’s attempts at humour. “I know it sounds far-fetched, but when you venture into the spiritual world these things become clear. I’m sure you’re familiar with things like tarot cards and séances. I started communicating with angels of light who I have come to know as spiritual guides. I don’t see them but sense their presence through people, things, and coincidences.”

The minister shook his head. “It’s all hogwash, Lucas, and downright dangerous stuff to get involved in. Those angels of light aren’t necessarily angels of light. I keep telling him that, but he says it’s a hobby. As long as it doesn’t affect his work, it’s okay with me. I think these beliefs move on, you know, like a passing fad.”

“Don’t think so, Minister. I believe they helped me develop the technology. Anyway, enough about me. We might have to find out a little about Lucas sometime.”

“None of that stuff interests me.” Lucas wanted them to get off the subject. It made him feel uneasy.

“Let me summarise it for you, Lucas. The Professor believes spiritual guides trigger thoughts, whereas I believe we have an angel on our right shoulder and a demon on our left popping thoughts into our heads. We just have to listen to the right voice.”

“You’re both mad, and I’m going outside to have a cigarette.” The minister was just as mad as the crazy man he was dealing with.

<°)))><

Lucas lit up a cigarette but he would have preferred a joint. Tag was resting on the front of the car reading a magazine. Tag looked up, so he gave him a wave. He often wondered why Tag never attended these meetings. Sometimes wished he could swap spots with him, but knew if he did that he wouldn’t have any idea of what was going on.

He walked to the end of the veranda and stared out towards the shed. Dark storm clouds were forming to the right of the shed. More rain coming. People would soon be in the shed. He imagined their fear and panic after a transfer. They had set up sophisticated surveillance equipment inside and outside the shed. He had watched videos of all the transfers so far, and they seemed to be working quite well, although he did feel for the poor homeless people they used as guinea pigs. He also had strange feelings about the first transfer he did—he wasn’t quite sure what happened there.

They continued to test on humans. They needed to get it right, for they had great plans for this technology. They hadn’t had any more deaths. Lucas was thankful for that, and he was also thankful that the investigations into the first death had not involved them. He was now well-trained in the technology and getting plenty of practice. He preferred using the mobile units, each the size of a briefcase, rather than using the van. The van was normally used to hook up all sorts of monitoring and testing equipment.

He did his first ‘mobile’ zap last week—he followed the man into the railway tunnel, and just as the man lay down on an old battered mattress, Lucas brought the man into view on the device’s screen. The transfer location was already set, and Lucas pressed the green button. He knew the man would return shortly. The configuration of the equipment in the shed sent them back within a short period of time. He had watched the man as he returned. The man stood there scratching his head, as he had ended up next to the mattress. They needed to be more precise with the settings—he wouldn’t have liked the man to end up on the railway tracks.

For the past few weeks, Lucas had travelled into town to locate appropriate street people and zap them with the technology. He would then venture back to the property and check the videos to make sure the transfer was successful.

The vanishings had been getting publicity but no one believed the street people. Normal people equate homeless with mindless, which is why the Professor had suggested they use the homeless. Lucas was getting concerned about himself as he felt his heart getting colder. Sometimes he would watch some of the videos and feel enjoyment at the confusion and suffering of these people. It was like it was feeding something inside him.

He shook off the thoughts and went back into the house. Once again he sensed something, and the squeaky door just added to the deep dark atmosphere.

<°)))><

The smell of beer permeated the room. The drinkers didn’t smell it. Their senses got swamped, and their tongues loosened up.

Lucas sat down and grabbed a can. He noticed the minister’s eyes had a glazed appearance and his face was flushed. The Professor just had a permanent smile.

“Why did you still want to meet, Minister?” Starkey asked.

“No more Minister stuff, either, Starkey. Same with you, Lucas. It’s Grant to both of you. Now that we sorted out the pleasantries, I thought we would still have the meeting because this accident today just speeds up my resolve to sort this mess out. The poor driver and the girl’s family are shattered. But we need to do a bulk transfer because this will bring the attention we’re after. They need to know about this technology sooner rather than later.”

Lucas took a sip out of his can. He hoped this meeting didn’t turn into another drinking session. But at least if everyone was drunk, the tongues got wagging and he could find things out. He took another sip and looked at the pair. Bruce Starke had the same lack of fashion sense as Grant Windsor, but his taste for bow ties wasn’t as flamboyant.

“Out of curiosity, how long have you two known each other?” Lucas asked.

Windsor raised his eyebrows and looked at Starkey. Windsor spoke. “Many years. We attended the same secondary school and university. Starkey had the brains while I was the streetwise one. You know, better people skills and charisma.” Windsor gave Starkey a wink. “That’s why I’m a politician, and I mean no criticism of Starkey when I say that.”

“I have no problems with having a brain, Windsor.”

It seemed to take Windsor a while to work that one out. He let out a burp. A few more years down the track, and Windsor would look like an older version of Harry Potter’s Uncle Vernon. Lucas laughed at that thought.

“Lucas, have I told you when Starkey came to me with the technology?”

Lucas didn’t get a chance to remind Windsor that the story came up at the last meeting before he continued.

“After many had knocked his idea back and even had a few laugh in his face, he came to me and I listened. Big ideas started to take shape in my head. My department’s an innovative department, I’m an innovative man, and Starkey had an innovative idea. You know, Lucas, I always believed that there must be a better way to punish minor offences. The rich find fines to be a minor nuisance; they pay the fines but don’t change their behaviour. The poor can’t pay their fines, end up in jail and are the worse for wear from it.”

Starkey asked if anyone wanted another beer.

Lucas watched as Windsor looked at his can, responded in the affirmative and then took a big sip. Lucas declined. His eyelids were getting heavy.

Windsor carried on. “For traffic offences there was talk of impounding vehicles for a short duration, the theory being inconvenience would change behaviour. I saw merit in this, but thought a better way of inconveniencing people would be to impound the person. I believed such a strategy could be used for a number of offences, not just traffic offences. And we now had the means to impound people.”

Lucas was looking to the ceiling. There was a scratching sound.

Starkey looked at him. “It’s okay, Lucas. There’s no insulation, so you can hear the birds walking on the roof.

Lucas nodded and raised his eyebrows. “Are we still going to impound them in the shed?”