Gamma

By Ed Bankson

Fifty light-years away from our planet and just under fifty years ago, two rogue black holes collided. The epic cosmological merger resulted in the creation of the most powerful force in the universe--a gamma-ray burst.

Releasing more energy in a few seconds than our own sun will in its entire ten-billion-year life span, it fired away from the center of the newly formed black hole at the speed of light, headed for Earth. With only six months until its arrival, no one is aware that all life is soon to be irradiated out of existence. No one that is except for an amazingly gifted ten-year-old girl with a mild form of autism and her deceased twin brother.

Gamma Jean Proctor along with her brother, Ray, learned before his death that they possessed "special" abilities that enabled the twins to enter the world of subatomic particles by using the strength of their minds. In this quantum world, as they came to call it, they were able to discover the impending doom that was fast approaching Earth and even began to devise a way to manipulate particles in that world in a way that could possibly divert the gamma-ray burst. Unfortunately, Gamma's brother along with their father died in a tragic car accident before the twins could finalize their plan.

With time running out, Gamma, with the help of her dead brother who she was able to communicate with, reached out with their "special" abilities to enlist the help of three strangers who possessed their own unique gifts. It was hoped that the three strangers, with training from the ten-year-old girl, might be able to replace her lost brother in the twins' plan to save all of humanity.

Noted psychiatrist John Tate, movie star Jessie Mortenson, and Princeton doctoral student Beta Whittmere were summoned to the home of Gamma Proctor by a revelation that was imparted to them in a way that they could perceive because of their uniqueness.

With the four gathered, they quickly formed a tight bond as they undertook the seemingly impossible task of learning to act as one in the quantum world, a task they would have to quickly master if humanity had any chance for survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798887936550

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Gamma

Ed Bankson

Copyright © 2023 Ed Bankson

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2023

ISBN 979-8-88793-642-0 (pbk)

ISBN 979-8-88793-655-0 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Prologue

John Rueben Tate Monday, April 2 New York City

Jessie Thomas Mortenson Monday, April 2 Burbank, California

Celeste Elizabeth Whittmere

Beta

Monday, April 2

Princeton, New Jersey

Gamma Jean Proctor

Monday, April 2

Chandler, Arizona

The Gathering

Wednesday, April 4

Chandler, Arizona

Discovery

April 5

Scottsdale, Arizona

Rajesh Gupta

April 6

Houston, Texas

The Twenty

April 7

Houston, Texas

The Interview

April 15

Houston, Texas

The Decision

April 18

Houston, Texas

Focus

May 5

Manhattan Beach, California

Waiting

May 26

Manhattan Beach, California

Arrival

July 25

Space Accommodations, French Guiana

Training

August 29

SALF, French Guiana

Setback

September 19

SALF, French Guiana

Goodbyes

October 1

SALF, French Guiana

Launch

October 2

SALF, French Guiana

Intervention

October 6

SA-1, 250 miles above the Earth

Return

October 7

Space Harbor, White Sands, New Mexico

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Prologue

With the vastness of the universe and the billions upon billions of interactions taking place literally every second, even the seemingly impossible eventually becomes possible.

On the outer edge of the Milky Way galaxy, one of those unlikely possibilities took place just fifty years ago. Two wandering black holes, not tied to any galaxy of their own, had collided. The almost inconceivable energy released exploded outward at near the speed of light. A highly concentrated burst of gamma radiation immediately began hurling its way inward toward the Milky Way. The gamma-ray burst had been racing on unimpeded for nearly fifty years since its creation.

But something was standing in its way. Its path was leading it toward an average solar system, consisting of an average-size star with eight planets trapped within its gravitational pull. It was the third planet from the star that would bring a sudden halt to the unbelievably powerful beam of photons, a planet that would suffer the consequences of being the GRB's termination point.

Chapter 1

John Rueben Tate Monday, April 2 New York City

Atowering glass office building, seventy impressive stories in prestigious Midtown Manhattan, was as clear an indicator of professional success as one could hope to claim if their business address was located there. And it was precisely in that marvel of modern architecture that one Dr. John Rueben Tate had his psychiatry practice. Encompassing most of the fifty-third floor, his residency in that tower was by far the most coveted by the building's owners. The national recognition attained by Dr. Tate had been assigned a celebrity status that was usually reserved for music and movie industry superstars. He was well known, not just by the medical community but to almost anyone you passed on the street. He had made many appearances on well-known talk shows, given countless interviews to every publication imaginable, and had even appeared in a couple of movies and TV shows.

One would think that all the attention and fame might have made him a little jaded and probably left his professional colleagues skeptical when it came to his practice, but nothing could be further from the truth. Dr. John Tate was considered the top psychiatrist in his field and was sought after by other medical professionals for his consultation. He was extremely well respected, both inside and outside the medical community.

Even at age fifty-three, he was the picture of youth and vigor, a Black man that stood 6'5" and weighed in at 235 pounds of pure muscle, a face that looked like something Michelangelo would have sculpted. He wore the look of a man that would be comfortable in any arena, sports or theater. And he had been in both.

Besides making a guest appearance in movies and TV shows, John Tate was a star linebacker at his undergraduate alma mater, USC. A three-year starter for the Trojans, John received many accolades for his football prowess. He even was a runner-up for the prestigious Heisman Trophy honor in his junior year—college football's highest recognition.

But John Tate, first and foremost, was a man of science. Even when he was projected to go in the first round of the NFL draft after having graduated in only three years, John passed on the opportunity to make millions playing professional football. Instead, he shocked the sports world by announcing that his playing days were over and that he intended to enroll at Pepperdine University in the fall to pursue a master's degree in his chosen profession, psychiatry, which he did and earned in less than a year.

After earning his master's degree, John took on the challenge of medical school, graduating at the top of his class at Johns Hopkins University. Shortly thereafter, he returned to his home in east Los Angeles, where he set up his practice so as to be close to his parents.

It was while practicing near his childhood home not far from his alma mater, USC, that he began to make a name for himself among the famous, beautiful people of the world. Being a well-known and beloved member of the Trojan football family, a number of his former teammates that went on to have successful and lucrative careers sought out the help of their old friend with a variety of issues that his expertise could solve. And solve them he did. He quickly became the go-to guy for not only his ex-teammates, but as word spread about his gentle but successful methods of treatment, he became sought after by a good portion of the Hollywood elite.

That was when his career began to skyrocket, uncomfortably so for John. Even though he began to make a great deal of money, John at heart was a simple man. Growing up poor, the second youngest of five children to his parents, William and Grace Tate, he was restrained by the harsh realities of his family's circumstances. Being taught at an early age to appreciate the simpler things in life, mostly because of the fact that that was all his parents could afford to provide, John became a man of little wants. As his net worth began to swell exponentially with his success, John always found ways to funnel his substantial earnings to worthwhile local projects. Projects intended to help the underprivileged community where he was raised, such as health clinics, medical as well as mental.

Finally, realizing that whatever professional success he could attain could translate to help in other communities around the country besides his own, he reluctantly threw himself into the world of fame and stardom. He went as far as agreeing to employ an agent and a business manager, like he was some sort of a rock star.

Actually, it was at the insistence of his younger sister, Olivia, that he began to accept the services of media professionals. Ever since the tragic deaths of his two older brothers to gang-related violence, the loss of his older sister to a drug overdose, then finally to the senseless murders of both his parents in a random drive-by shooting, Olivia, or Liv as John called her, had been the rock in his life. Neither of them were married, so they were each other's whole world.

When their parents along with their siblings were lost, it was Olivia that saved John from completely shutting down. John had a difficult time, even more so than Olivia, accepting his family's deaths. Given all the money he had, he blamed himself for not pulling his family from the dangerous life they were constantly surrounded by. Liv, however, reminded her brother that their three other siblings were lost years ago, before John even finished school, so he was not in a position to do anything for them. As far as it pertained to their parents, even with them having been murdered only two years prior, their decision to remain in their old home was something that they refused to discuss. Both John and Olivia had begged and pleaded for years to place their folks in a nicer home in a safer community, but they steadfastly declined, claiming that where they lived was a constant reminder for them to stay humble, a lesson both their remaining children took fervently to heart.

Now that John was a megastar in the medical world of psychiatry, he had offices on both coasts. He had his initial office in his old community, a much larger office space in a downtown Los Angeles high-rise, and a palatial, sprawling collection of offices located way up in the Manhattan sky. It was there that Olivia ran the family empire, overseeing every aspect of her and John's lives.

Olivia was standing by her own desk in her own office, naturally located right next to John's, when their receptionist, Chloe, walked up to her holding an office tablet.

Here are tomorrow's appointments, Liv, the too-young, too-skinny girl said as she approached Liv.

Olivia herself was what some might describe as a hefty gal. Just under six feet and rather husky, there's no doubt she was John's sister.

Too young and too skinny was Liv's assessment of Chloe. Even though Olivia was responsible for all the hiring in her brother's practice, the girl had slipped by because it was done at John's request. She was the daughter of one of his old classmates at Johns Hopkins and he really couldn't refuse. John rarely pulled rank on Liv when it came to running things, but on that, he told her it had to be. Anyway, as it turned out, Chloe was quite competent, even more than his fifty-year-old sister was willing to admit.

Thanks, girl, Olivia replied with a forced smile. It's not that Liv didn't like the girl, it's just that she ran a tight ship, and it wouldn't do to get too friendly with the staff. That it for the day?

Afraid not, Liv, Chloe began with a look of disgust on her face. The Princess of Manhattan is waiting in the lobby. She has a five o'clock with John.

Shit, I totally forgot about that little bitch, Olivia replied with equal disgust.

Mercedes Scott was the twenty-two-year-old daughter of one of the richest men in New York. Her father, a real estate magnate, was worth billions and was himself a client of John's. His need for John's services had to do with depression. His daughter's was due to the fact that she was a spoiled, self-indulgent little brat that had never grown up. In and out of drug and alcohol treatment programs over the last four years, she was one messed-up little twit.

Right on cue, the elevator to the fifty-third floor stopped, and the high-pitched ding announcing its arrival sent a slight chill running down the spines of the two women.

Well, here we go, Liv began with a snort and a roll of her eyes.

Guess I better get back to my desk, Chloe nervously began as she hurried out of Liv's office. On her last appointment, I wasn't at my desk when she tried to check in. Got a ten-minute verbal beatdown as punishment.

Liv laughed, then said, If that little shit gives you any more trouble, just call me. I wouldn't mind dressing down that pompous ass. It'd be a nice way to end my day.

Better not let John hear you calling her names. Chloe smiled as she took her seat behind her simple but serviceable desk. You know how protective he is with his patients.

Fact was, all the furnishings in John's waiting room as well as all his offices were very modestly decorated. Despite the prestigiousness of his practice, he had always opted for simple motifs and functionality over style.

Trust me, girl, Liv hollered back with playfulness to her tone. He feels exactly the same way about her! Just can't fess up to it!

Walking directly from the elevator, or maybe swaying would be a more apt description, Mercedes Scott strolled right past Chloe's desk and headed directly to the closed door of John's office. Wearing a Gucci outfit that included a very small white pleated skirt, a matching halter top that showed off her flat, tanned stomach, and a bejeweled half-jacket left open to display her petite figure, she ignored Chloe's attempt to stop her.

Miss Scott, please, Chloe pleaded as Mercedes stood in front of the doctor's door. Please take a seat, and I'll let the doctor know you're here.

She took one condescending look at the quaint waiting room chairs and huffed, I am not going to ruin this $10,000 Gucci original by sitting on one of those disgusting things you call chairs.

Upon hearing the commotion in the waiting room, Liv walked out of her office, wearing a deadly serious expression, and got right in the face of the preening, pretentious blond.

You heard the receptionist, Liv began in a slow, tempered tone. Take a seat, and the doctor will let you know when he is ready for you.

Mercedes stood defiantly, face-to-face with the office manager, and while casually staring her up and down, said dismissively, I don't need the help barking orders at me. The word help was pronounced with more than a little disdain.

Liv stood there stoically, and while her face went from serious to battle-hardened, she could hear Chloe whisper perhaps a little too loudly, Oh, man. Shit's about to get real.

Mercedes heard her as well and turned her head indignantly toward the receptionist.

Liv, in an attempt to control herself, as her brother had begged her to do, took a slow, deep breath and said, Now I know, dear, that you have some issues that need sorting out. That's why you're here. But this attitude of yours is not helpful. May I remind you that your visits with us are court ordered, and it would be advisable for you to change it, immediately.

Advisable? the girl responded with a smirk. That's a pretty fancy word for a secretary to be using.

Oh, damn, Chloe almost shouted.

To Liv's credit, she didn't tear into the girl as she would have in the past. Lately, she really was trying to work on her people skills, as her brother labeled them, especially in the area of her legendary temper.

As Liv's demeanor remained hardened, her imposing size an advantage in times like those, she stared directly into the girl's eyes, and without blinking, speaking with a slow menacing tone, said, Either take a seat and calmly and silently wait for your appointment or I will have security come and escort you off the premises. Am I clear?

Mercedes stood there, staring up at the large woman, her facial expression seeming to melt from aggressive to passive in mere seconds. The intimidated girl lowered her head in defeat, then quietly did as she was told.

Chloe smiled at Liv, the girl's back turned away as she was walking toward one of the chairs. Chloe added a thumbs-up and grinned even wider.

Liv appeared pleased with her ability to control her anger, then with a soothing, commanding voice, told Chloe, Ring John and let him know Miss Scott is here for her five o'clock.

Yes, ma'am, the receptionist responded gleefully, picking up her phone.

Looking back at Chloe, Liv thought to herself, Don't suppose Chloe is all that bad after all.

After about five minutes of uncomfortable silence, the door to John's office opened suddenly, the abruptness of it startling his young patient.

All right, Mercedes, come on in, John began, his voice deep and melodic. Its tone fit the man perfectly. Whether he was calm or agitated, the quality and meter of his speech never seemed to fluctuate, a fact that pissed Liv off to no end.

The young girl stood up and walked quickly toward the open door, taking a second to glare back at the receptionist. She did not do the same in Liv's direction. She knew even though the woman had returned to her office, with her door opened, she could sense she was being watched. Mercedes was not about to push her luck.

John was already walking behind his desk, ready to sit down when he began, Have a seat, Mercedes, pointing toward a brown leather armchair positioned directly in front of his large but simply ornamented desk. John's office, like every other space on his floor, reflected the man himself perfectly—quaint, understated common appointments that sought not to impress but to elicit a feeling of warmth and security. The man himself was wearing a simple white T-shirt, a black sports jacket, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of worn but clean Converse tennis shoes. That was what John considered work attire. For him, every day was casual Friday.

Your hair is shorter, the girl remarked as she squirmed in her chair, trying to set herself. I mean since last I saw you.

Yeah, thanks for noticing. It was starting to get out of control, he replied with a smile, rubbing his right hand over the top of his short-cropped crown.

Out of control, of course, was an exaggeration. John never let anything get out of control in his life, least of all his hair. It almost always was kept short, no more than a quarter inch all around. The fact that it had grown to about a half inch when Mercedes last saw it was to John the equivalency of letting it go wild.

Well, it looks good on you, she responded in a somewhat flirtatious way. Then she continued with a sensual playfulness that for her was a well-honed and well-practiced skill, But then everything looks good on you.

He didn't blush. John never blushed. Blushing would suggest embarrassment, and few things ever embarrassed the man. He nonchalantly said, Thank you for the compliment.

After a brief pause, John asked, It's been three weeks since I last saw you, Mercedes. You know very well we're supposed to meet every Monday. Do you have a plausible excuse for your absence? I know you are aware weekly sessions are court mandated. He continued with a professional tone, not angry but concerned.

Sorry, Dr. Tate, she whined like a little girl who had been caught misbehaving. Don't be mad at me. It couldn't be helped. I promise.

So, he started, obviously waiting for the excuse.

Daddy needed me. He had to travel to England for business, and he needed me to accompany him.

Your father is a very capable man who has a small army attending to his every need. I fail to understand what possibly could have required your attendance.

Daddy needed his little girl for moral support, she answered with a pouty sort of smirk.

Your father knows the importance of these sessions, Mercedes, not just because they're required to keep you out of jail, but more to the point, you need the help. Please tell me you understand this.

He was beginning to get annoyed, though he would never let her see that he was. She was attempting to play him like she always did, like she always did with everyone, especially her dad.

And by the way, he continued while slightly raising the inflection in his voice, a tactic he utilized to stress a point, what do you think you were doing leaving the country? You know very well that violates one of the conditions of your release. You could go back to jail for that alone.

Daddy would never let that happen, she replied indignantly.

This is what we've been talking about, Mercedes, again, he said using the elevated pitch. You are a young woman, and you need to start seeing yourself as an independent adult, not a child that turns to her daddy every time something doesn't go her way. You have to be responsible for your own actions, your own life choices.

She just sat quietly, rolled her eyes as an expression of boredom.

John got up from his chair and turned to look out his floor-to-ceiling window, admiring the view he had of Central Park. It was one of the few advantages of his wealth that he enjoyed.

Mercedes, he began, not turning around to face her. He wanted her to just concentrate on his voice, another technique he utilized in his sessions with particularly inattentive clients. You are a smart, attractive young woman. You have all the resources in the world at your disposal. You have a father, even though he is an enabler, who loves you very much. There is nothing preventing you from accomplishing whatever it is you want to accomplish. The only obstacle standing in your way is you.

John stood silently in front of the massive window, still choosing not to face her. He had made an important point, and he needed her to respond to it. She needed to break the silence.

After another minute went by, she finally said, You're absolutely right, John. I need to take control.

The fact that she had used his first name and had done so in a seductive manner prompted John to turn around to confront her. Ready to chastise her for being so familiar with him, he was suddenly stunned to see that she had moved to the sofa he had in the room and that she was completely naked.

What the hell do you think you're doing? he shouted out uncharacteristically. Put your clothes back on immediately!

Oh, come on, John. We both know you want this. She grinned while gently running her fingers along her breasts. I know you're not married. The tabloids don't mention anyone in your life at the moment. Why not have a little fun? I know I certainly would enjoy it. She began to slowly spread her legs while never taking her eyes off him.

He turned around quickly, facing the window once again.

Mercedes, he began calmly, regaining his composure. This is not only inappropriate, but it's destructive as well. Your manipulative ways are a big part of the problem that we must work through.

I'd rather you work on me, she cooed, almost in a whisper.

I'm not telling you again, he added, that time more forcefully. Get dressed or my next report to the judge will include this incident, along with my recommendation that you serve the remainder of your suspended sentence in jail.

You wouldn't! she yelled out angrily, as John could hear her getting dressed.

Try me was all he said.

Angrily, she jumped off the sofa and began heading toward the door, finishing dressing as she went.

On hearing her stomping along the floor, John turned to her and practically shouted, Mercedes, stop! Get back over here and sit back down! We'll talk through this!

You've humiliated me! she yelled back. I'm leaving, and I'm never coming back!

Young lady, if you go out that door, you will leave me with no choice. I will have to report you as uncooperative to the court. I assure you they will arrest you and take you to jail.

Let them try! I did nothing wrong!

Nothing wrong? John responded, trying hard not to laugh. You assaulted a police officer after you failed a breathalyzer test over a suspected DUI stop!

I kicked him in the nuts! she screamed back. And I would do it again!

With that, she stormed out of his office, and while making her way through the waiting room area, John heard her yell, And as for you, you fat bitch, I had better not see you out on the street! That goes for you, too, you ditsy cunt!

John knew she was directing those horrible comments toward Liv and Chloe.

In the next second, Liv came flying into his office. What the hell happened, John? A look of confused anger on her face.

John just shook his head, obviously unsure how to answer.

You want me to call security, have them haul her skinny ass back?

After a brief moment of consideration, he replied, No, Liv, let her go. She's going to have to learn that there can be harsh consequences for bad choices.

You're going to recommend incarceration to the court? she asked, the sound of amazement in her voice.

In all the years John had been practicing, he had never remanded anyone for failure to adhere to mandated therapy.

Don't get me wrong, bro. She started to laugh. I'm all for it. I only wish I could be there when they slap the cuffs on her. But you have never given up on anyone.

Not giving up on her, Liv, he responded with a tired voice. A month or two behind bars will do her more good than two months of sessions with me.

You all right? she suddenly changed the subject by asking. You look worn, through and through as Momma used to say to us.

He laughed a little and looked at her and smiled. Man, he loved her. No one alive could read him like she could.

I'm good, sis. Thanks for looking after me.

Someone has to, she said warmly. Gotta keep you sane so you'll keep paying my bills.

Yes, ma'am, he responded, smiling back at her.

They stood there staring at each other, neither speaking. With what the two of them had been through together over the years, they could communicate their feelings without uttering a single word.

Finally, Liv broke the silence by asking in a warm, comforting tone, You want to wrap things up for the day by going through tomorrow's itinerary?

In a minute, Liv. Give me some time to sort out a few things.

You got it, boss. I'll come back in ten. That OK?

Perfect, he said. Then he added as she had already begun to exit the room, And thanks for being my rock.

Anytime, bro, she said with that big smile he loved so much.

After she had left, John walked back to the window and resumed staring out at Central Park.

After gently closing John's door, Liv headed back to her own office, taking with her a feeling of dread that suddenly overtook her.

Everything OK, Liv? she heard Chloe ask with concern. Obviously, Liv was wearing her emotions openly.

Yeah, yeah, she replied, lost in thought, barely acknowledging the receptionist.

Closing her own door, Liv took a seat behind her desk and stared blankly out at nothing in particular.

She was worried about her brother and not just the everyday concern she had for his well-being. This was a different sort of troublesome thought. Different because John was different, special—special that went way beyond what everyone else in the world knew of him. Yes, he was an undeniably brilliant man whose talents were many, on display for all of mankind to witness and marvel at. But the kind of special she was currently considering was not the sort anyone but herself was privy to. In fact, up until two years ago, following their parents' death, she was unaware of his unique ability as well. It was John's sudden change in demeanor back in his office a few seconds prior that prompted these new thoughts.

Growing up, Olivia sort of suspected that John was not like other kids. Hell, the whole family knew he was what they euphemistically referred to as peculiar. Nothing particularly startling, or troublesome, just weird.

The family began noticing that when John was around ten or so, he would have moments when he would just seem to freeze in place, stop talking, not acknowledge anyone who tried to speak to him. He stood or sat silently, eyes open yet not appearing to be looking at anything. These moments never lasted very long, maybe thirty seconds or less, but once he awoke from what appeared to be a trancelike state, he would return to normal, seemingly unaware he had zoned out as their mother called it. When questioned about his odd behavior, John said that he was simply daydreaming and that it didn't mean anything. However, every time he had one of these episodes, he would shortly thereafter run out of the house without permission or explanation, just disappear.

He was never gone for long, certainly not long enough for anyone to become concerned, maybe an hour or less. On return, when their folks demanded to know what he was up to, John just said he was out with friends and that his sudden departures were nothing more than his forgetting about the things he and his friends had agreed to do and was late for.

No harm ever seemed to come from those zoning-out episodes, and John was a good kid otherwise. Certainly, with all the crime and drugs in the neighborhood they grew up in, parents in the area had bigger worries to contend with. So John's oddness was written off as a harmless quirk of personality.

When their folks died tragically in that senseless act of random violence two years prior, John and Olivia suddenly found themselves alone, the last of their once-large family. That reality brought them even closer than they had already been, so close that John finally decided to confide in his only remaining sibling and revealed to her the deep and sometimes dark secret that he had been living with most of his life. Olivia remembered vividly every word John had told her that first night after they'd buried their folks, the shocking revelation that still brought her chills. Explaining as best he could, he took her back to their youth, when those episodes he had since referred to as moments of clarity started.

As an explanation, he began, "I know this is going to sound nuts, Liv, and I wouldn't blame you if you don't believe me.

"When I would ‘zone out' like Mom used to say, an overwhelming feeling of purpose would come over me, so completely that I would lose track of all reality.

"Now I know this is crazy, Liv, but suddenly, I became aware of something I had to do, somewhere I had to go, someone I had to help.

This awareness doesn't come in the form of visions or words spoken that only I can hear. I just feel it, Liv. That's the only way I know how to describe it. Just know it, like a gut feeling, or maybe intense intuition. I only know that when it happens, I have to act on it. I just have to.

Liv went on to remember her brother telling her that these places he was compelled to go were always somewhere where there was someone in need of help. When it started happening to him as a child, it usually involved helping some other kid.

There was a time when after one of his moments of clarity, he knew he had to ride his bike to the canal that ran a couple of blocks from their house. When he got there, he found a smaller boy who had fallen too close to the canal's edge and was barely holding on, crying, trying not to fall the rest of the way into the fast-running water of the man-made river. John was able to rescue the kid, then ensured he got home safely.

There were many examples of daring rescues like those, and in each, John never took credit, never told anyone about his acts of bravery. He was self-conscious, still was, about how it was he knew where to be and when. He knew people would find it hard to believe, thinking him a liar or worse. He didn't understand why it was happening to him, or what it even was. It just kept happening. It even ended up channeling John toward his chosen profession, psychiatry.

When he was in his freshman year, back at USC, one of those incidents occurred that changed his life forever.

Ever since John had been recruited out of high school to play football at USC, receiving a full-ride scholarship, his desire to play in the NFL consumed his every thought. Yes, he took his academics seriously. He had always been an exceptional student, but football was his first love. From early on, it was evident that John had what it took to play professionally. His every waking moment was consumed with it.

Then one afternoon while John was taking lunch at the Student Union, another moment came upon him. While sitting with some of his friends, eating and discussing the upcoming showdown with their crosstown rivals, the UCLA Bruins, John faded out. Coming out of his momentary trance, his friends staring at him like he was some sort of alien life-form, John bolted out of his seat and ran out, not even attempting to explain.

As he was already on campus, it didn't take long for him to reach the area where the girl's dorms were located. Three-story redbrick buildings drew his attention. There were four of them snuggled tightly next to one another. John never hesitated. He somehow knew where he was to go and how he was to get there.

Immediately running to the back of the first building on his right, he saw a fire escape ladder left down and unlocked. He quickly headed up, knowing where his final destination was located. Reaching the building's roof, a task he had to achieve by climbing up a balcony overhang, as the ladder only went as far as the third-floor landing, John's athleticism made quick work of it.

Sitting solemnly on the edge of the pitched tile roof was a woman roughly his own age, her feet dangling over the side, her head hung down with her long black hair hiding her face. As John approached cautiously, he began to hear her crying softly, a cry so painfully emoted that he instantly knew why he was drawn there. She intended to jump.

Tentatively, ever so slowly, he crept up next to her and sat down, trying very hard not to look down at the thirty-foot drop that ended abruptly at the concrete patio floor. Choosing instead to focus all his attention on the girl, he began in a soothing voice that he possessed even back then, Hey, my name's John, John Tate. Mind if I sit with you for a while?

He was on that roof with her for hours, almost until the sun went down. After he had made her comfortable with his presence, a gift he always had, he learned of her reason for contemplating the worst. Her full-ride academic scholarship was being revoked, as she had failed to maintain the required GPA the previous semester. She explained that this was devastating, as her family was so proud of her being the first among them to get a higher education. As she could not possibly afford the tuition on her own and her parents certainly couldn't, she would be forced to drop out. She felt lost.

Using his gift of common sense along with his ability to always find the silver lining in any dark cloud, John convinced the girl to give life another chance. It was then that he knew he had to look upon his unique ability as a gift, not a curse as he had thought of it from time to time.

Embracing the inevitability of what life had chosen for him, he then decided to throw himself completely into quietly trying to learn more about his condition. Trying, surreptitiously, to discover if there were any others who shared his gift, he came to his life-altering decision to change his major from communications to psychiatry. He felt that that particular academic discipline was the one best suited for surrounding himself with those that not only needed help but in his studies, might provide some answers.

Since the day John had shared his secret with Liv, there were dozens of acts of bravery, all precipitated by his moments of clarity, acts that included flying off on a second's notice to some place he had never been before to help someone he'd never met. Whether he was called to a mini-mart in the middle of the night in a city hundreds of miles from his own to foil a gunman's attempt to kill the clerk or to some random intersection on a street he'd never been before to pull a child to safety, he always arrived just at the exact moment he was meant to. And as was the case when he was a child helping others, he would never take credit or even stick around long enough to receive heartfelt thanks from those he would save.

Liv told him he was a real-life superhero if ever there was one, showing up in the nick of time to thwart the workings of evil. He certainly had the look of one.

John refused to see it that way. He always said that everyone finds themselves in a position to render aid to another from time to time. It just becomes incumbent upon them to act. Unfortunately, many choose to look the other way.

The only regret John seemed to have with his gift, he told his sister, was that he never was given any opportunity to save the ones he loved. All his interventions were with strangers. He never to that day could understand why one of his moments of clarity didn't include sending him back to his old neighborhood to save his parents or his brothers or older sister for that matter. It actually pissed him off to think that his gift was seemingly only meant for others. But that was the way of it, and he simply chose to accept it.

Sensing even more then that her brother was troubled, she got up from her desk and made her way back to his office. She had given him the ten minutes he had asked for anyway.

Upon entering his office, she found him standing behind his desk, staring out the window with that blank look on his face that she was familiar with. He was in the midst of one of his moments of clarity.

She waited patiently, as she had learned to be when her brother was nonresponsive. From experience, she knew he would snap back to reality soon. Those moments never lasted more than a minute.

Where is he going to run off to this time? she said quietly to herself. She hoped it would be somewhere close. She hated when he left on one of his missions. He forbade her from coming along, saying that he would be so concerned for her safety, that he might not be able to help whoever he was supposed to. But she could stay put and worry about his safety. That brother of hers could be a real ass sometimes.

It just then occurred to Liv as she found herself looking at his desk, that he hadn't moved a thing since the last time she was there.

He couldn't possibly have been in his trance for this whole time, could he? she found herself asking. It's been over ten minutes.

Despite knowing better, she started to slowly make her way to him calling softly, John. John?

Before she could reach him, he suddenly turned his head, staring down at his desk. Then in an apparent frenzied state, he sat down, grabbed furiously for his memo pad, knocking things over wildly in the process, then began writing something down. After he finished, seemingly scribbling a single word, he pushed the pad aside and placed his elbows on his desk, resting his face in his hands, head down.

Liv immediately took the seat across from him, asking in a worried voice, John what is it? What is it?

He didn't answer. She knew he hadn't returned to his trancelike state. She knew the signs all too well.

John, talk to me, she pleaded, panic in her voice.

How long? he finally said in a tired, quiet voice, never looking up to meet her eyes.

How long? she asked, a little confused. What do you mean, John?

How long was I out for? he asked, slowly raising his head to look at her.

Longer than ever before I think, she replied nervously. Ten minutes at least.

Ten minutes? he responded with confusion. You sure?

Yeah, I'm sure.

Looking at her brother, she became afraid for him. She had witnessed him emerging from one of his trances many times and he had never looked or sounded the way he did then. In the past, he had simply popped out of his secretive world and then announced in a calm matter-of-fact voice where and when he needed to go, no worry in his voice or on his face. He just let Liv know that he would be leaving and that he needed her to hold down the fort until he returned, which she became accustomed to doing.

Anytime he left on one of his adventures, it was up to her to rearrange his schedule, move appointments that could be moved, and possibly get one of the other four doctors that John had in his practice to handle some of his caseload.

Those were things she was more than happy to do for him, not just because she was the office manager and that technically, it