EPILOGUE II

ROBERT PAYNE'S DIARY — STANFORD, CALIFORNIA — 1946

I, ROBERT BRYCE PAYNE, born April 15, 1930, have decided to start these records to formalize my studies and their evolution, and to assist researchers who rely on my theories in posterity.

Today was a full day, for me and, I believe, for science. I can draw parallels on this date with two milestones of equal importance, even if in different proportions:

First of all, I am finishing my doctoral thesis today as one of the youngest in California, at sixteen years of age. I have spent the last three years of my life immersed in this research, the longest period I have ever dedicated to a project. At the presentation, I received unanimous approval and at the same time, an invitation from the University itself to begin a research project in the area, the first of its kind in history, which I will be leading.

In proportion to the life of an individual, this being me, the report I have made, I consider a milestone for a new level of evolution. Regarding my research, I raise the hypothesis of the existence of a standard intelligence, a master code of the human mind, and perhaps resident in every animal on this planet. I make it clear that this theory concerns all things, but I limit myself to describing only what is of interest to my field: the human mind.

Philosophically, whether we can call existence a creation, assuming someone or a greater force behind all things, or whether this very existence is actually an insurgency against the rule of nothingness, does not change what I am proposing. Both cases — an intelligent creator or an involuntary construction — assume that there is a pattern of existence, a law to be followed, a source code, upon which everything that exists must be based.

Now, limiting this idea to the field of the human mind, there is a psychic pattern that precedes any construction of knowledge, thought, or being. A universe of meanings that precedes language, images, and any relationship between man and the world. Now, if a man drinks water, or says it is day or night, he does so loaded with an enormous envelope of social, ideological, scientific, or whatever construction, simply because he sees himself as an individual in the face of such facts.

But the mechanism that makes your mind understand that it needs water, or that it is day or night, is similar to the one that makes a leopard in the savannah have the same understanding. It is the gear of thought, the meeting point between the brain — flesh, gray matter, an aggregate of chemical reactions — and the mind — what many would call the spirit.

This mechanism is the same for the American working in an accounting office, the Muslim following a jihad, and an aboriginal displaced from any relationship with the time of our society. In other words, totally different interfaces, but which have the same construction base, the same law of operation. Given the enormity that this subject reaches, I believe that my current state of knowledge on the subject is still superficial, since I only deduce its existence.

Understanding and perhaps a use for it are still far from being achieved. However, I can state the idea with some certainty: all minds are essentially the same.

The other milestone I am talking about concerns science. This one came as a great surprise to me. I noticed that among those who attended my final presentation, some individuals stood out in appearance and were unknown to me. At the end of the whole procedure, and after my success and approval, these men came to talk to me and extended me an invitation.

I have been told that my research will be crucial to the advancement of important projects for the sovereignty of the country and our establishment as a nation. Once I accept the invitation, however, I will have to refuse any other attempt other than this and I will have to abandon my social circles for security reasons. I am very distressed by the sudden decision that I have to make. I still do not know for sure what the best path for science will be. I think, however, that there is a huge benefit in getting involved with the government and its research; perhaps this is the path to follow.

I will then leave my first impression in this future compendium of reports. May there be enlightenment as well as growth.

Dr. Robert Bryce Payne, November 15, 1946

***

United States, 1946

FIVE DAYS AGO I MADE MY DECISION. At the time of writing, I am already settled in and starting my research. Everything happened extremely quickly, I barely had time to say goodbye to my family. Using the pretext of an urgent trip to Canada to research an unexplained phenomenon that had occurred with moose, I left without knowing where I was really going.

I believe I am still in the United States of America, based on observations of the scenery and weather conditions, but I have not been given the exact address for security reasons. The group of researchers is small, just two specialists, myself and a few other men under our command, but the facilities are generously large and we have all the resources we need.

Doctor Alfred Monroe is in charge of the project. He is an extremely clever physicist; I have never met anyone like him. Like most of them, he is a bit eccentric, but he is a good person. He told me that he was about to prove the origin of the universe when he was called to do the research, but after that, he ended up losing his documents. I still don't know if it was true, a joke or just plain madness on his part, but I wouldn't doubt that it could have happened, after observing his immense intellectual capacity.

Dr. Harold Moshower is an incredible man, extremely learned and knowledgeable in several areas of science, including physics and a bit of knowledge about the human mind, which he shares with me. He is also very lucid. He has been doing research for the government for many years. He told me that he had once been on the brink of hell, during an experiment with a destroyer, of which he was part of the team.

After what happened, his faith in science was shaken and he began to say that it doesn't work without God. I don't quite understand the words he insists on saying to me every day, but I believe he calls some supreme equation, a scientific cabal, god. That must be it...

So far, I have only discovered what we have to do, we are not told what the real purpose of this research is. Our goal is to discover how this original language of the mind works and how to access it artificially. Simple, direct, and seemingly impossible for the most sensible.

Originally, after much debate and reflection, we deduced two ways for the brain to register commands for this language: visual and auditory. Theoretically, the signals received by the two senses — when we read or hear something — are translated into this original language of the brain, and only then do they take on meaning in our minds and the message works.

A man who reads or hears in English and another in German would ultimately have to translate their native languages into the same primordial mental language, and only then would they understand what was said to them. This is the principle we take as our starting point.

Since our theoretical knowledge is laughable so far, we chose the method that we believe will be easiest to achieve our goal. After much discussion, we ended up believing that the auditory method will be the most accessible to achieve the results.

I have high expectations, but still, I feel like a primate trying to discover the cure for cancer. The path to be followed is too long and we do not have enough technology for this at our current stage of scientific evolution. I, who would limit myself to theoretical research in my career, was thrown naked into this jungle of projects and practices with an unknown end. In any case, I agreed to continue.

Dr. Monroe and Dr. Moshower were already researching something similar before I arrived, but when they learned about my research at Stanford, they decided to reformulate the project from the beginning, believing it to be the best path. Basically, Harold researched neural devices to achieve effective control of the mind and Alfred tried to develop physical mechanisms for emitting signals. My arrival was a reinforcement of Dr. Harold Moshower's research.

I found it very humble that the doctors accepted the idea of discarding all their previous research and perhaps regressing years of work to return to my speculative method. This will mean that the next few years will be spent solely on speculative research. I hope that we, mere primates before Science, can achieve what we set out to do and that another generation will not be needed for this.

Dr. Robert Bryce Payne, November 21, 1946

***

United States, 1952

I FINALLY RETURN to these stories. I had already forgotten to write them, such was my concentration over the years. I realized that I was beginning to forget my family. Today I caught myself remembering my mother's face. In fact, I know that it is no longer the same as I remember it. I don't know what they think of me after so much time. Unfortunately, we are incommunicado, due to the extreme confidentiality of this project.

The research has progressed incredibly well. Our tests to prove the hypothesis have been very successful. Over the years, we have analyzed the brains of eighty different species of animals, including the human brain, to confirm the existence of a communication pattern.

In some of our tests, all of them responded identically to basic stimuli. After this practical reinforcement, I feel that we are solidifying my hypothesis of a universal language. Through these tests, by separating the successes from the failures, we also have a foreshadowing of the path to be followed to effect any communication. Our next step is to deepen this scope and now focus on the human brain.

I should add that after the successful completion of this first phase of testing, something exciting happened: President Truman himself came to visit us and see the facilities. I really believe that this is something of utmost importance to the government, considering the speech he gave us upon his arrival. I felt encouraged.

General Groves has been visiting us regularly to inspect the progress. He is officially no longer in service, but everything has been done with the utmost care to ensure that no one finds out about this research. It must be something very important indeed.

However, I still wonder what the point of this whole project is, since it focuses on humans in a hasty way, and not on the animal mind as a whole. What kind of communication would need all this artifice, given that we already have language?

Dr. Robert Bryce Payne, July 17, 1952

***

Virginia, 1957

TODAY I DISCOVERED THE LOCATION of our facilities, a study center immersed in the green of the Virginia woods, built especially for us. I believe that my discovery is due much more to the trust they place in me today than to my investigative acumen.

We have begun the second phase of research, now exclusively on humans. I confess that I am extremely uncomfortable with the ethics of our current state of affairs. An average number of men, perhaps twenty of them, condemned to the electric chair or gas chamber—according to government reports—were brought in for our tests. I still have my doubts about this method of selection. These poor men will be "guinea pigs" for our more serious tests, in the current and future stages.

We are not sure if there will be any side effects, since our tests are sound, but I still consider it to be dangerous and risky at this time. I tried to find out the reasons for their convictions, hoping to find some comfort in what we are going to do, but there is nothing in the reports. The lack of guilt that falls on those individuals does not allow me to stop seeing them as victims at our hands.

We are still understanding the threshold of the mind, we do not know what effects the stimuli will have on those men. The general, however, like the other doctors, never tires of repeating "martyrs for the good of all". Dr. Monroe, in fact, does not convince me enough, when he repeats these words in the form of a mantra, I do not see any real concern in his eyes regarding this.

Robert Payne, August 29, 1957

*** Virginia, 1961

I FINALLY UNDERSTAND THE REAL PURPOSES behind all this. Now I can relate the why of human experiments and Dr. Monroe's work with physics and sound propagation.

At our current stage, we have gathered enough data to raise the hypothesis of the arbitrariness of the mind. We suspect that a person goes through three mental stages in communication:

First, it receives the signal or stimulus, through hearing, vision or whatever sense.

After this, it will translate that data into information, transforming what it received into meaning. At this stage, your conscious mind will analyze the information and validate it or not. For example, if you receive an order, it will analyze its content and decide whether to comply or disobey. If you feel thirsty, it will decide whether to drink water or not.

In the last stage, it will translate the information into the original language, the source code that I dealt with in my research, and send it to the brain (organ) in an arbitrary way, making your body obey the final order, given by the mind.

According to this hypothesis that we are dealing with, the original language is the basis and the medium between reasoning and action. It was when I realized the union of facts that I understood the government's intentions with this project. Its objective is to develop a tool that reaches the heart of the message in this original language, bypassing any phase of consciousness and reasoning of the individual and going directly to the practical command given to the body. An irrefutable order, independent of ideologies, subordination or any option that the person may have for analysis. A command that transforms the biological individual into a perfect machine to execute any order.

This is what we are working on in all these tests. This discovery has been bothering me terribly, I have not been able to lay my head on the pillow in peace since I realized the reality... I don't know what to do about it, I am caught in this trap, with no way to escape.

Based on the stimuli we give to human subjects, we analyze their reactions and try to understand how this primordial language works. Unfortunately, it is like groping blindly; there is no method that can help during this stage. Even so, we noticed some progress in the first tests. The first subjects responded to some simple stimuli, showing the reactions we wanted, even without using words for this, just sounds that we believe are part of this language.

I believe we are ready to take testing to a deeper level.

Robert Payne, Allisoniro 2, 1961

*** Hell, Virginia

WE PERFORMED THE TESTS IN MORE DEPTH. I confess that the results were disappointing when we moved beyond the phase of light stimuli, such as blinking an eye or opening and closing the mouth. In this new phase, the test subjects demonstrated completely distorted reactions.

Based on our studies, we assumed a signal that would simply command us to pick up something from a table. We exposed the first test subjects to the signal in our sound-sealed testing chamber for our own protection. The first test subjects suffered nosebleeds and some fainted, entering a state of total lobotomy. Others lost consciousness and no longer responded to anything we said.

We have lost many test subjects at this stage, without any theoretical or practical progress. I fear that there will not be enough time for a new group to arrive and for us to continue testing, causing a major delay in research.

The most tedious part of the job is making these reports, always saying the same thing about each guinea pig and explaining why they failed.

Dr. Moshower threatened to abandon the project after a heated argument with Dr. Monroe over the experiments. I don't know what the future holds. I am working hard to try to refine the quality of our signals and better understand this primordial language of nature.

Robert Payne, Allisoniro 8, 1963

***

Hell that imprisons me, 1965.

WE HAVE CONFIRMED THE FIRST hits. I could no longer bear the same repetition of mistakes. The new shipment of guinea pigs has already arrived, with sixty new individuals. From what I heard, another sixty are on the way. I had no idea we had so many cells in this dreadful place.

They brought in some crazy people as test subjects. They could be an interesting part of the experiments. If language really works, they will also demonstrate the same results in the tests, proving that language is beyond consciousness. I believe it works.

Among the tests we designed, we chose one to begin this new phase. We placed five chess pieces on the table: two kings, a white queen, a black knight, and a black bishop. The order was to pick up the knight. The first test subjects did not respond as we expected, forcing us to gradually modify the transmitted signal.

Two weeks later, subject number twenty-eight finally caught the horse after we gave it the signal with the order. After that, it had to be discarded, as it no longer responded to any of the commands we gave. Subject number thirty-one also managed to catch the horse correctly, confirming that the first one was not just a coincidence. This gave us new impetus to continue. Let's continue, now refining the signal even further and adding items to the orders given.

I feel like a prisoner in this place. We don't leave the complex for anything, we're not allowed to. Dozens of soldiers surround all the exits of the building, it feels like we're the criminals. I only see sunlight when I visit the courtyard during lunch hours.

For a week now I have barely seen daylight, due to the heavy rains that make it inconvenient to go out after lunch.

Wouldn't this be slave labor?

I don't know to what extent I could translate this oppression as security. My greatest desire is to finish this project to be free from all of this.

General Groves is already aware of our dissatisfaction, but I believe there are no options available to him.

Payne, Allisoniro 17, 1965

***

Hades, Hell, 1969

WE HAVE EVOLVED. I feel myself slowly approaching my freedom. Today we made significant progress in the experiments. Subject number one hundred and twenty-one responded perfectly to the orders given by the signal. She was a young woman. She picked up a pen from the table and walked over to the mirror. A while later, she was able to write what we wanted: success. There were hours of celebration in our space. We had a sort of party that day, shamefully empty, since there were only a few of us in the facility, but it was sincerely joyful. Liters of top-quality whiskey appeared from some hideous place for the celebration. Dr. Monroe danced like a crazy old man, after a few glasses and sips from the bottles. I don't know to what extent his madness came from the alcohol, or was inherent to himself...

Now I see a possibility to end this closure.

Dr. Monroe is also having success with his sound expansion devices. With increasingly smaller speakers, he has been achieving excellent results in sound propagation. I don't know what he has done to achieve this, but I am not a great theorist in physics and acoustics.

I've been wondering what the government will do with this technology. By combining Alfred's device with our research into giving arbitrary orders to human beings, the country will have a weapon with great potential. It's military intent, for sure, it can only be.

In any case, there is still a great deal of variation between test subjects, and a minimal accuracy rate, even though we have evolved considerably. Dr. Moshower has doubts about whether this primordial language is a true standard, because of these variations.

I would venture to say that the problem lies in our method, our current technology. Perhaps it is a flaw in the intensity, or in the signal itself, because, even with those variations, in general the test subjects have responded in a similar way. And we cannot ignore the fact that in all the tests there was no hesitation or any demonstration of reasoning on their part, which confirms our initial theory about the arbitrariness of the order over the level of consciousness.

However, we have heard rumors today about a possible change in the project and withdrawal from these facilities. I do not know what they intend to do from now on. Dr. Monroe believes that everything will be discontinued, due to the danger of being exposed to other nations. After our experience with the Manhattan Project and the Rosenbergs, the government learned hard lessons that it now insists on putting into practice. If the world finds out about these experiments, the country will enter a terrible crisis in diplomatic relations.

Payne, September 22, 1969

 *** Virginia, 1974

I RESET MY RECORDS.

The winds are different. I spent the last decades in that cursed prison, I thought I was going to go crazy in that hellish place. The research froze and we could no longer continue the work as we should, I believe because of our state of mental degradation. But after Dr. Moshower's death, things changed.

We were brought to new facilities, right here in Virginia, and we now have a contract of freedom, being able to leave from time to time, to visit urban centers, all under very high surveillance, of course. We have a new security policy, thanks to President Nixon.

Disguise is better than concealment, in his opinion. We will work as ordinary researchers, in what will appear to be a publicly known department within DARPA. This camouflage will give us greater freedom to exist.

With this renewal, I believe that we will be able to progress in our research again. I don't know to what extent this makes me happy anymore, I don't know to what extent my humanity resists within me, after so many experiments.

Am I selfish for wanting to end this all and be free?

I realized that I no longer feel guilty about taking tests. It's been a long time since I've suffered from worries; habit is a strong solvent for principles... However, the fact that I realize this could be a good sign, I believe. Maybe I haven't really lost this sense of humanity within me, perhaps. But did this realization come to me too late?

Payne, March 30, 1974

 *** New Virginia facilities, 1978

I REALIZED THAT MY LIFE is passing by. My family is reduced to a few memories. I miss my school and university days.

Today we received the announcement that we will be conducting field tests next month. These tests could be definitive for the project, an important step forward, as we heard from the President himself. We will be taken to Afghan territory, to a region where the location of a minority terrorist group has been discovered, without much media coverage.

This will be the first real test using the device developed by Dr. Alfred Monroe.

Once the effectiveness of the experiment has been proven, we will study the ways of applying it, according to the government's interests. I finally see a way out of this hell that I myself agreed to enter.

The questions I ask about the ethics I abandoned at the beginning of this journey have been battling against me in a dialectical struggle against the desire to reach the end of this project as soon as possible.

What will happen when we finish this?

What will the country do with this technology?

I feel like I will lose sleep over these new thoughts again. Even so, I see no other way but to comply with the President's will. You can't say no to the government of the United States of America.

Payne, April 18, 1978

 *** Islamabad, Pakistan, 1978

THE FIELD TESTS HAVE FINALLY BEEN DONE. Under the supervision of Commander Gibson and his company, specially trained for this mission, we headed to Afghanistan, to the designated location. The objective of the mission was to carry out the tests in practice, on a group that was in its own habitat, living a common life, or what is considered a routine.

We decided to carry out the tests on a group of military interest, in this case, terrorists, which would free us from any ethical accusation, or at least serve as an alibi.

We traveled to Pakistan, to an American base in Islamabad, which would serve as a bridge to the housing of a nearby terrorist cell, recently discovered in a cave area. The geography of the location would also provide us with a new item of military interest to assess, as we would have the opportunity to confirm whether the projections of the sound device's range for hard-to-reach areas were correct. In other words, whether the weapon would devastate even those inside the caves, sparing our soldiers from risky exposures during future invasions.

We spent the first three days at the base, studying the perimeter of the barracks and planning the operation in the safest way possible. On the fourth day, we went to the site to carry out the test. The operation basically consisted of surrounding the perimeter with soldiers and dropping the bomb in the center, where the entrance to the caves was, observing from afar what would happen there.

The device was programmed with a recording that we believed would order those men to kill themselves, without any action being required by our soldiers. I had already tested the case extensively in the laboratory, but only with two or four individuals, playing audio messages that would theoretically provoke an irresistible urge to kill each other. This time it would be an entire community.

I confess that I was anxious to take that test, even though I realized how evil it could be, it had become my life, the only reason I lived all those lonely years. What happened there, however, brought me another understanding about what I did.

Reality is always worse than we imagine.

I had no choice but to recount the experience in a more internalized way. I hope to convince whoever reads this that my decisions were for the good of all.

The experiment had been a success. I walked right behind Commander Gibson to the site of the operation, passing through the corpses of the approximately fifty men who had worked from the bottom of the valley to the cave entrance, scattered around the device, towards the only one left alive after the carnage. Both I and the commander held assault rifles ready to shoot the crazed martyr if he fought back. I had no experience with weapons, but I needed one at that moment, anything could happen.

Even before I reached him, I could get a sense of the state the man was in. The experiment had worked frighteningly well; no trace of sanity remained in his behavior. He turned from side to side randomly, desperate, and maintained an arched posture, in an almost bestial state. His bulging eyes seemed to see terrible things, so much fear did he feel, and he didn't even seem to have realized that his right leg had been shot by high-caliber bullets and was bleeding profusely. I could also see his trembling finger incessantly squeezing the trigger of his AK -47, which had no more bullets. The man was reduced to a worm. Open-mouthed, he showed no trace of reasoning and drooled over his desert clothing. It was there, in that moment, that fear found me.

A few meters away from the last survivor, I noticed something strange and worrying. As I walked, I felt a slight weakness in my arms. Suddenly, I lowered my weapon and a flash of darkness filled my vision for a second. I stopped walking, my balance swaying. The commander noticed and, looking at me, asked:

— Is something wrong Dr. Payne?

— I don't think so...

— Be careful, the smell of blood can make you dizzy.

I had never had a problem with this, I had been through similar situations before and was used to the smell of blood, but a new flash happened, I almost tripped over one of the dead. I tried to keep my pace so Gibson wouldn't notice, but after the third blackout my confidence about my sanity crumbled.

When I opened my eyes, I experienced the worst moment I could ever imagine in my life. I could see, above each man who had fallen to the ground, a shadowy figure, standing with enormous, shining eyes, and they all seemed to be looking at me. The beings were so black that they seemed to suck in the sunlight and had no corporeal mass, but their bodies seemed unstable, without solidity, like sand carried by the wind. All the figures had an arched posture similar to that of the man who was still standing and, like lions surrounding their prey, they followed with their faces every step I took.

This was very frightening, even though I suspected it wasn't real. I was surrounded by demonic beings, and the setting helped the situation, because we were in front of a large, dark Afghan cave, a hideout for a small cell of murderous extremists, of which only one remained alive. Around us, in a perimeter with a radius of four hundred meters, there were numerous soldiers positioned, snipers, ready to shoot at any sign of the terrorists losing control, and I knew it, but at that moment it seemed to be just me, Gibson and the Afghan.

Damn ear protection... I thought, when I remembered that the protector on the left side had slipped a little to the side when I was performing the test and I struggled for a while to fix it again, being exposed to a good part of the noise, although at a very low volume.

I tried, I swear, to keep walking, but suddenly, after the blink of an eye, I came across one of those figures, face to face, I could feel its breathing and hear the grunts of its imprisoned and suffering soul. The beast slowly opened its mouth, and I looked, astonished, at that being of darkness coming towards me and swallowing me.

I have never been in such darkness.

When I realized it, I was lying on the ground, face to face with an Afghan corpse that seemed to be looking at me terribly, with its mouth open in despair. The dust already mixed with blood stuck to my clothes and I didn't show any reaction, except to turn to the other side and see Gibson coming towards me, saying:

— Looks like you couldn't handle the blood! — laughing. — You staggered for about five meters until you fell...

The beastman heard the sound of my fall, stopped walking in circles and, like a meerkat, stood up from his hunched posture, looking in our direction. I had the impression that he couldn't even see us, such was his immersion in the hellish world we had placed him in...

This gave me a new interpretation of the results of the experiment and the phase we were in. The Afghan man seemed to have his senses turned off and was being guided only by hearing, which made sense, because that was what the device did, using sound to access the deepest part of the human mind. This man was exposed to the entire procedure when the bomb activated and executed the sound key.

It may seem like a tremendous irony of fate, but I, the creator of the entire project, after decades of study and development, became a victim of my own evil just because of one simple mistake: I didn't completely cover my ears.

Idiot ! I said to myself...

I began to imagine the depth of the anguish that victim was in. If I, who had been exposed to hearing a few seconds of my own creation, and I quickly tried to fit the rubber band better in my ear, was already suffering from such alienation and illusions, let alone him, who was experiencing complete terror. This explained why his nearly destroyed leg made no difference to him, or why he had not yet seen us, so few meters away. For an instant, even though I knew all the guilt and lack of scruples in their hearts when killing innocent people for a selfish cause, I felt sorry for those men.

Gibson picked me up off the ground.

— How ironic, Dr. Payne, — he said as he pulled me along. — can't you at least stand to smell the death you yourself caused them?

Yes, I had provoked all that.

He was right...

—Given the effect we had on their minds, I am led to believe that for them, killing themselves must have been their best solution... — I blurted out.

Gibson didn't understand what I meant, but I hadn't realized the evil of my experiment until I tasted it myself. I hadn't just killed murderers, I'd given them a terrible punishment that could only have been alleviated by death. My intention was to control their decisions and make them respond to the orders recorded in the device, in this case, to kill each other. And that's what they did, but only now did I know why, and it was far worse than I'd intended it to be...

— Sir — Gibson said on the radio to the general who was accompanying him from Washington, I was just listening — the operation was a success, sir. Finally the result was perfect, zero percent error!

— Any American casualties? — asked the general.

—None, sir. And not a single bullet fired by our soldiers!

— Perfect.

— There is a survivor, he was also affected, we will take him to Dr. Robert Payne to study the after-effects of the attack.

— Bring it, but it will be confidential.

— Understood, sir.

When they finished their conversation, we walked towards the madman. He was still trying to locate us by our steps. His eyes rolled and looked aimlessly, he really couldn't see us, he probably couldn't see anything anymore, but when he was sure where we were, panting and growling like a beast, he tried to shoot us without success, as he had no more bullets in his rusty gun.

Gibson stopped in front of him and lightly tapped his forehead with the butt of his gun, laughing. The man didn't feel it, he didn't seem to have any tact. I was getting more and more anxious, I could still see the pitch-black demons with their glowing eyes around us and I could hear their grunts, but unlike that Afghan, I still had my sanity and my senses active. I tried to imagine what that man was going through at that moment, knowing that his condition was much worse than mine.

— Let's take him to your laboratory, so you can study the effects of this new phase of the project. — Gibson said, waving for the soldiers to come and get the man.

I needed to make my decision right then and there, I couldn't bear to consent to keeping that man in such a state any longer.

How many days or weeks would he live before he starved to death or was killed by us?

I judged myself.

Are there still ethics in you, Payne?

The initial project was not all that atrocious, it was something beneficial, something that would be capable of ending a war without casualties, capable of immobilizing an army without a single shot, just through a sound bomb. But we have reached this point...

I drew my gun and aimed it at that man.

What would be worse, dying or living in that hell?

I made my choice, unloading half a clip, until I was sure I had killed him.

"By God!" cried Gibson. "What was that, doctor?"

— We don't need it, I can already understand the effects.

— Don't scare me like that! For a moment I thought you were like him!

—Ethically, Gibson, I don't think we're very far off. — I sighed without hiding anything.

— I thought he was useful... — it was clear how confused he was by what I did.

— There are certain things in science that are limited to observation, Commander, exceeding its limits can make us lose our own humanity.

— Well... — he said without understanding me — if you are satisfied, we now need to make the report of the experiment. By the way, what name did you choose for this new phase of the Moon project?

I thought for a moment, remembering the names I had previously considered, none of them would fit anymore. There was only one, previously unthinkable, but now perfect, after all that I had seen:

— Pandora, I believe.

— That's a good name, "Pandora Experiment." But what's the significance of that choice?

— It's like the story itself, if you don't know what's inside, don't even try to find out...

Robert Payne, May 25, 1978

***

Virginia, DARPA, 1978

I HAVE BEEN faced with a warm feeling of guilt in the last few days. I had forgotten what it meant. Honestly, I don't remember when I stopped being human... It was only when I tasted it that I could feel how bitter my own poison was.

I don't know what to think about it.

My quarters were searched yesterday. They suspected the large amount of medication I had stolen from the infirmary and decided to invade my privacy. They think I want to kill myself. I should have been quicker about it...

But hesitations are common to the human mind, aren't they?

In the end, I see that I am still human in some way. Now all medication will be administered solely by the ward, I no longer have access to large quantities and, most of the time, I am now monitored.

I am skeptical about whether the tests are really going in the right direction. I feel like a father who discovers his child's unhappy secrets. For the first time, I was able to see my experience from another's perspective, from the voice that was always silenced. In a way, the experience was positive, because it allowed me to reevaluate the methods by what was hidden behind the results.

When I remember the Islamabad event, I ask myself:

Did they kill themselves because of the command we gave, or because of the hell we subjected them to?

I believe that the answer is not the one I want to have. I need to find out where this flaw is, the exact point where I lost the fine line of effect between obedience and fear.

On the other hand, pressure from the government is increasing. President Carter does not want to get involved with the project, but he chose not to shut it down, which dashed my hopes... On the other hand, several high-ranking figures are aware of the results and insist that the project is already sufficiently ready for further testing, which has increased the pressure on us.

I see it differently, the success of my experiment consists of another extreme. From the angle I now see it, I insist on reflecting on the essence of everything. Considering the suffering to which I was subjected after such a brief exposure to the influence of sound, wouldn't this weapon be an instrument of torture?

How could I differentiate it from actions that constitute war crimes? I won't be able to live with these questions for long if the project is implemented at this stage. I need to find a way to convince them to give me more time...

Robert Bryce Payne, June 18, 1978

***

Virginia, DARPA, 1981

THE LAST THREE YEARS HAVE BEEN filled with great discussions with my superiors. I am at a dead end, the new President is too interested in this project and the government wants to once and for all take possession of this weapon for purposes that I do not understand, except in a somewhat uncomfortable way.

It is true that I made great strides in my research after Dr. Alfred Monroe passed away. When I took over the project from him, I got rid of his somewhat archaic methodology and the work finally took off. I cannot deny that the technology we have access to today with the high government investment has greatly facilitated theoretical and practical growth. We have all kinds of cutting-edge equipment to work with.

These advances have allowed me to correct a near-infinite number of errors in the device, which I believe will no longer cause the terror that I myself experienced. The orders given to the brain are clearer and work better. The success rate is the only real problem I face; even after so much research, no result has been as accurate as that of Islamabad, always something around a tenth of the test subjects do not correspond to the orders given.

Still, for a military operation, the Pandora device would be revolutionary.

I believed for some time that success in correcting the errors in the project would bring me peace about its use, but I was wrong. I cannot convince myself that handing this over to powerful men without some thought could be a positive thing...

What will they do with this?

How many will suffer?

Taking charge of the project has given me a chance. With the death of my two fellow researchers, I am now the only one who knows all about the work. My subordinates are only assigned to parts of the project, and they would not be able to continue without me. Many times, in fact, every day, I find myself thinking about ending it all, destroying every note, every piece of writing about my creation. This would be an interesting solution, but as soon as the initial frenzy of taking an impulsive action cools down, I think about everything I gave up for this project.

I have lived my life here, dedicated only to this... When this unfortunate thought visits me, I lose the strength to do anything. It is like a father who receives the order to kill his son.

How could I?

What if it turns out to be something good?

If I can help others?

I am faced with a decision that will change the future of humanity, but I do not know to what end.

Is there anyone in the world with such a painful question?

Robert Payne, April 3, 1981

***

DARPA, 1981

I WOULD SAY THAT SOMEONE IS WATCHING FOR ME SOMEWHERE IN THE UNIVERSE, IF I HAD ANY FAITH! I thought there was no way out, but I think it found me. During a short break I had, with permission to try to live like a civilian, the kind I had once a month, I came across an unusual situation while shopping at a small market in the neighborhood.

I was picking up some items from the shelves when a young man fought me over a box of cereal. I instantly became irritated, but when I looked at him, he gave a small smile at the corner of his mouth and dropped the box into my hands. When I looked, there was a note on it, which I grabbed and put in my pocket before one of my guards could see it.

At the first opportunity, I read the message and rewrote it here.

What will they do when you hand it all over?

The powerful just want more power. You lived for this project and you will die for it. Hand it over to them and you will only confirm what you already know.

Why did you dedicate yourself to developing it?

There are only two options: destroy it or use it against them...

There are nights when I can't sleep because of this little piece of paper...

What does this mean?

Even without knowing, I believe that this is where I find the solution to my misfortune...

Robert Payne, April 29, 1981.

 *** DARPA, 1982

UNTIL THEN, MY BIGGEST DECISION was to have accepted this project. Today that is what I will do with it.

Destroy it? I would never have the strength to destroy the driving force of my life.

I recognize my weaknesses... If I destroyed him, I would die along with him.

What I do tonight may result in my death, but if it does, I will die with a clear conscience for having made the best decisions possible. That's what I think.

My project is too terrible to be in the hands of the government, and too wonderful to be destroyed... If I created it, I am the most worthy person to take the place of putting it to the right use. And so I will do, not here, not at this moment. I still need to polish this stone until it has the right shine, but when it is ready, it will be to make the world a better place, and not to subjugate it to a single source of power.

What I will do in this one night is as important as what I have done in my entire life. It is destiny that justifies creation, my possible redemption after so many sins. What I will do in a few hours, I am convinced, is the trigger for what will change the future of the world.