Part 146, Chapter 2644
Chapter Two Thousand Six Hundred Forty-Four
23rd September 1977
Langley, Virginia
“I have read the literature that has been provided through Swiss sources” Sidney Gottlieb said, “It seems that our past experiments were ineffective because we didn’t understand the medium.”
“Meaning that you broke people’s brains without realizing that you couldn’t replace what you had broken?” Frank Church asked, earning a scowl from Gottlieb in the process. There had also been an incident where one of the drugs that Gottlieb had researched had been used on a Federal Agent, supposedly in conjunction with torture.
The elephant in the room was that Gottlieb had refused to acknowledge the profound failure of the first program, just that he had never found a way to get the results that he wanted. With the current makeup of Congress and the Presidential Administration, if word got out that Gottlieb was overseeing a new round of experimentation there could be serious consequences. At the same time, the risks had not changed. There were rumors that Germans had made the sort of pharmacological discoveries that they had been concerned about two decades earlier, they needed to understand the process to counter it. The article which Gottlieb had mentioned regarded the discovery that certain drugs induced plasticity in the mind that was normally seen in children. While that was far from the ideas about mind control that had been feared in prior decades, it could not be ignored.
That was why as the Director of the CIA, Frank Church could not dismiss Gottlieb out of hand. Ironically, it was the German Kaiser along with the Imperial Military High Command who had spoken the unvarnished truth about matters like this after what had happened to the Japanese City of Kure. When the whole world had witnessed the horror of the Night of Whispers, they had taken full responsibility and had made the case as to why that action had been deemed necessary. Church found it hard to imagine that anyone would show nearly that much integrity these days and wished that Gottlieb remained in his lab doing the relatively harmless task of producing untraceable poisons.
“There is no need to be insulting” Gottlieb said, “Enforcement of protocols is always a priority.”
“I am sure that has been true in the past” Church said neutrally.
Church might have pointed out that when Gottlieb had been the one to establish those very protocols and had made them loose enough to pursue his own ends in the past. Instead, Church would let Gottlieb figure out that he was going to have to follow the rules this time without being the one who made them.
Montreal, Canada
The letter for Sir Malcolm had arrived in the post this afternoon which contained photographs of Tatiana, his namesake grandson Malcolm, and Marie Alexandra taken during the summer when the three of them had been at their Great Uncle’s house in Lower Silesia. Malcolm would have liked it if all three of them could have made it to Montreal over the summer at once like in the photographs as opposed to visiting on separate occasions. Douglas had taken these pictures and when Malcolm had asked about them he had sent copies. There were pictures of them doing fun things, Marie pointing a fencing foil at the camera with that shy smile of hers on her face was probably the best of those. In the background there were others. Malcolm recognized Nikolaus and Sabastian easily enough.
Looking at a photograph that was a close-up portrait of Tatiana and Marie together, Malcolm was struck at how the two of them had different aspects of their parents as part of their features. It was hardly a surprise that Tatiana heavily favored Katherine, she was truly her mother’s daughter in both personality and appearance. She had her hair cut short and while that might have seemed a bit avantgarde, it was still a feminine look. Marie on the other hand was clearly Doug’s daughter. That had manifested in a heart-shaped face and adventurous spirit. It was a real shame that Margot couldn’t seem to look past the long red hair. If Marie had been born with dark brown hair like her older siblings then she would be a dead-ringer for Margot when Malcolm had first met her. Of course, Malcolm knew that his wife would never admit it if she saw the truth for herself.
Lately, Margot had been trying to introduce Marie to eligible young men who she felt were promising. Mostly that meant that their families were wealthy, and it was incredibly obvious what she was angling for because this wasn’t the first time that Margot had tried doing this. Unfortunately, she neglected to realize a fundamental truth about their granddaughter. Marie Alexandra wasn’t the sort who wanted the sort of comfortable, safe existence that such a marriage would provide. Her choice to travel to Montreal to attend the Liberal Arts program at McGill had some risk involved, especially in light of how she could have easily gotten into the Friedrich Wilhelm University of Berlin if that had been her choice. Marie had once told Malcolm that she preferred men who did real things as opposed to what she deemed to be stupid games. Men like her photojournalist father or Malcolm himself who had been a career Officer in the Canadian Army.
The sort of man whose success was guaranteed from the day he was born and had never had to work for anything in his life bored Marie. Malcolm had once suggested that perhaps Margot ought to introduce Marie to the son of one her friends in Montreal’s society who had rejected wealth and the life of privilege that came with it, just to see what would happen. That had not gone over well, and Malcolm had not repeated that mistake.
23rd September 1977
Langley, Virginia
“I have read the literature that has been provided through Swiss sources” Sidney Gottlieb said, “It seems that our past experiments were ineffective because we didn’t understand the medium.”
“Meaning that you broke people’s brains without realizing that you couldn’t replace what you had broken?” Frank Church asked, earning a scowl from Gottlieb in the process. There had also been an incident where one of the drugs that Gottlieb had researched had been used on a Federal Agent, supposedly in conjunction with torture.
The elephant in the room was that Gottlieb had refused to acknowledge the profound failure of the first program, just that he had never found a way to get the results that he wanted. With the current makeup of Congress and the Presidential Administration, if word got out that Gottlieb was overseeing a new round of experimentation there could be serious consequences. At the same time, the risks had not changed. There were rumors that Germans had made the sort of pharmacological discoveries that they had been concerned about two decades earlier, they needed to understand the process to counter it. The article which Gottlieb had mentioned regarded the discovery that certain drugs induced plasticity in the mind that was normally seen in children. While that was far from the ideas about mind control that had been feared in prior decades, it could not be ignored.
That was why as the Director of the CIA, Frank Church could not dismiss Gottlieb out of hand. Ironically, it was the German Kaiser along with the Imperial Military High Command who had spoken the unvarnished truth about matters like this after what had happened to the Japanese City of Kure. When the whole world had witnessed the horror of the Night of Whispers, they had taken full responsibility and had made the case as to why that action had been deemed necessary. Church found it hard to imagine that anyone would show nearly that much integrity these days and wished that Gottlieb remained in his lab doing the relatively harmless task of producing untraceable poisons.
“There is no need to be insulting” Gottlieb said, “Enforcement of protocols is always a priority.”
“I am sure that has been true in the past” Church said neutrally.
Church might have pointed out that when Gottlieb had been the one to establish those very protocols and had made them loose enough to pursue his own ends in the past. Instead, Church would let Gottlieb figure out that he was going to have to follow the rules this time without being the one who made them.
Montreal, Canada
The letter for Sir Malcolm had arrived in the post this afternoon which contained photographs of Tatiana, his namesake grandson Malcolm, and Marie Alexandra taken during the summer when the three of them had been at their Great Uncle’s house in Lower Silesia. Malcolm would have liked it if all three of them could have made it to Montreal over the summer at once like in the photographs as opposed to visiting on separate occasions. Douglas had taken these pictures and when Malcolm had asked about them he had sent copies. There were pictures of them doing fun things, Marie pointing a fencing foil at the camera with that shy smile of hers on her face was probably the best of those. In the background there were others. Malcolm recognized Nikolaus and Sabastian easily enough.
Looking at a photograph that was a close-up portrait of Tatiana and Marie together, Malcolm was struck at how the two of them had different aspects of their parents as part of their features. It was hardly a surprise that Tatiana heavily favored Katherine, she was truly her mother’s daughter in both personality and appearance. She had her hair cut short and while that might have seemed a bit avantgarde, it was still a feminine look. Marie on the other hand was clearly Doug’s daughter. That had manifested in a heart-shaped face and adventurous spirit. It was a real shame that Margot couldn’t seem to look past the long red hair. If Marie had been born with dark brown hair like her older siblings then she would be a dead-ringer for Margot when Malcolm had first met her. Of course, Malcolm knew that his wife would never admit it if she saw the truth for herself.
Lately, Margot had been trying to introduce Marie to eligible young men who she felt were promising. Mostly that meant that their families were wealthy, and it was incredibly obvious what she was angling for because this wasn’t the first time that Margot had tried doing this. Unfortunately, she neglected to realize a fundamental truth about their granddaughter. Marie Alexandra wasn’t the sort who wanted the sort of comfortable, safe existence that such a marriage would provide. Her choice to travel to Montreal to attend the Liberal Arts program at McGill had some risk involved, especially in light of how she could have easily gotten into the Friedrich Wilhelm University of Berlin if that had been her choice. Marie had once told Malcolm that she preferred men who did real things as opposed to what she deemed to be stupid games. Men like her photojournalist father or Malcolm himself who had been a career Officer in the Canadian Army.
The sort of man whose success was guaranteed from the day he was born and had never had to work for anything in his life bored Marie. Malcolm had once suggested that perhaps Margot ought to introduce Marie to the son of one her friends in Montreal’s society who had rejected wealth and the life of privilege that came with it, just to see what would happen. That had not gone over well, and Malcolm had not repeated that mistake.
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