While watching a person’s brain as he answered questions, it was possible to see how different sectors of tissue reacted to what was being said. The foundation scientists discovered that it was easier for the brain to tell the truth. When a person was lying, his left prefrontal cortex and the anterior cingulate gyrus lit up like red patches of molten lava.

LAWRENCE CONTINUED DOWN the corridor to another unmarked door. A lock clicked open and he entered a shadowy room. Four television monitors were set in a wall opposite a bank of computers and a long table that contained the control panel. A plump, bearded man sat at the table and typed instructions on a computer keyboard. Gregory Vincent had built and installed the equipment that was being used today.

“Did you get rid of all his metal?” Vincent asked.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you go in? Afraid that you might say something while I was watching?”

Lawrence rolled an office chair over to the control panel and sat down. “I was just following instructions.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Vincent scratched his stomach. “Nobody wants to go into the Truth Room.”

Looking up at the monitors, Lawrence saw that Richardson’s body had become a hazy image made up of different patches of light. The light changed color and intensity as Richardson breathed, swallowed, and thought about his predicament. He was a digital man who could be quantified and analyzed by the computers behind them.

“Looks good,” Vincent said. “This is going to be easy.” He glanced up at a small security monitor hanging from the ceiling. A bald man was coming down the hallway. “Perfect timing. Here comes the general.”

Lawrence created the appropriate mask. Studious. Intent. He stared at the monitors as Kennard Nash entered the Truth Room. The general was in his sixties; he had a blunt nose and straight-backed military posture. Lawrence admired the way that Nash concealed his toughness with the amiable style of a successful athletic coach.

Richardson stood up and Nash shook his hand. “Dr. Richardson! Good to meet you. I’m Kennard Nash, the executive director of the Evergreen Foundation.”

“It’s an honor to meet you, General Nash. I remember when you used to be in the government.”

“Yes. That was a real challenge, but it was time to move on. It’s been exciting to run Evergreen.”

Both men sat down at the table. In the monitoring room, Vincent typed in commands to the computer. Different images of Richardson’s brain appeared on the monitors.

“I understand you’ve read what we call the ‘Green Book.’ It summarizes everything we know about Travelers.”

“The information is incredible,” Richardson said. “Is it true?”

“Yes. Certain people have the ability to project their neural energy out of their bodies. It’s a genetic abnormality that can be passed from parent to child.”

“And where does the energy go?”

Kennard Nash unclasped his hands and hid them under the table. He stared at Richardson for a few seconds, his eyes moving slightly as he examined the doctor’s face. “As our reports indicate, they go to another dimension and then they return.”

“That’s not possible.”

The general looked amused. “Oh, we’ve known about other dimensions for years. It’s one of the foundations of modern quantum theory. We always had the mathematical proof, but not the means to make the journey. It was a surprise to discover these individuals have been doing it for centuries.”

“You should release your data. Scientists all over the world would start experiments to verify this discovery.”

“That’s exactly what we don’t want to do. Our country is under attack by terrorists and subversives. Both the foundation and our friends around the world are worried that certain groups might use the Travelers’ power to destroy the economic system. Travelers have the tendency to be antisocial.”

“You need more data about these people.”

“That’s why we’re developing a new research project here at the center. Right now, we’re getting the equipment ready and finding a cooperative Traveler. Perhaps we’ll obtain two of them-brothers. We need a neurologist with your background to implant sensors into their brains. Then we can use our quantum computer to track where the energy is going.”

“To the other dimensions?”

“Yes. How to get there and how to get back. The quantum computer will enable us to follow whatever happens. You don’t need to know how the computer works, Doctor. You just have to plant the sensors and set our Travelers on their way.” General Nash raised both hands as if he were invoking the Deity. “We are on the verge of a great discovery that will change our civilization. I don’t have to tell you how exciting this is, Dr. Richardson. I’d be honored if you joined our team.”

“And everything would be secret?”

“In the short run. For security reasons, you’d move to the research center and use our staff. If we’re successful, then you’d be allowed to publish your research. Verifying the existence of different worlds would mean an automatic Nobel Prize, but you can see that it’s much more than that. It would be a discovery on the same level as the work of Albert Einstein.”

“And what if we fail?” Richardson asked.

“Our security arrangements will protect us from media scrutiny. If the experiment is unsuccessful, then no one needs to hear about it. The Travelers can go back to being folk legends with no scientific verification.”

Richardson’s brain showed a bright red color as he analyzed the possibilities. “I think I’d feel more comfortable working at Yale.”

“I know what goes on at most university laboratories,” Nash said. “You’re forced to deal with review committees and endless paperwork. At our research center there’s no bureaucracy. If you want a piece of equipment, it will be delivered to your lab within forty-eight hours. Don’t worry about cost. We’re paying for everything-plus we’d like to give you a significant honorarium for your personal contribution.”

“At the university I have to fill out three allocation forms to receive a box of test tubes.”

“That sort of nonsense is a waste of your intelligence and creativity. We want to give you everything you need to make an important discovery.”

Richardson’s body relaxed. His frontal lobe displayed little pink patches of activity. “All of this is very tempting…”

“We’re under some time pressure, Doctor. I’m afraid that I need a decision right now. If you’re hesitant, then we’ll contact other scientists. I think that your colleague Mark Beecher is on the list.”

“Beecher doesn’t have the clinical background,” Richardson said. “You need a neurologist who has also trained as a neurosurgeon. Who else did you have in mind?”

“David Shapiro up at Harvard. Apparently he’s done some important experiments with the cortex.”

“Yes, but only with animals.” Richardson tried to look reluctant, but his brain was very active. “I guess I’m the logical person for this project.”

“Wonderful! I knew we could count on you. Go back to New Haven and start making arrangements to leave the university for a few months. You’ll discover that the Evergreen Foundation has many high-level contacts at the university, so taking time off won’t be a problem. Lawrence Takawa is your contact person.” General Nash stood up and shook Richardson’s hand. “We’re going to change the world forever, Doctor. And you’re going to be part of the effort.”

LAWRENCE WATCHED AS General Nash’s luminous body left the room. One of the monitors continued to show Dr. Richardson as he fidgeted in his chair. The other screens showed digital recordings of different segments of the previous conversation. A framework of green lines was superimposed over the neurologist’s skull. It analyzed his brain reactions while he made different statements.