Green Oasis

I can finally tell a mission story that you’re not going to believe.

Late in the autumn of 1995, I met with my mission president for our monthly interview. I noticed that there was another missionary in the room as I entered. These interviews are private, as a rule, so this struck me as odd. My mission president asked me to take a seat.

“Elder Blake, I have a special assignment for you.”

Excellent, I thought. He’s probably going to finally make me a district leader.

“This assignment does not come directly from the Lord, but by way of the government of the United States.”

He must have noticed the perplexity on my face because he continued, “I realize that this is highly unorthodox, but I assure you that this is the Lord’s work. Have you ever heard the prophecy that the U.S. Constitution will hang by a thread and that the Elders of Zion will save it from destruction?”

“I seem to remember my seminary teacher mentioning it.”

“Today may be your chance to be part of fulfilling that prophecy. First, before I tell you the details of your assignment, I need to know that are a loyal citizen of the great nation that God set up in order to bring forth the Gospel. Are you willing to do whatever your priesthood leaders require of you to protect your country?”

This reminded me of being asked to accept the temple obligations before knowing exactly what they were. As I did in the temple, I took a leap of faith and said, “Yes.”

“Good. The NSA has done an extensive background check on you, and aside from that youthful brush with vandalism and your friendship with a wannabe Communist in high school, they found no reason to doubt your loyalty. Your boyish good looks and position as a missionary in Upstate New York provide excellent cover. You’re one of the last people anyone would suspect of being an agent for the NSA. Plus your passing knowledge of French may come in handy.”

I doubted that two guys walking around in trench coats all day was great cover for a spies, but to say that I was surprised would be to understate the facts. I was stunned that this assignment involved the NSA—an agency I was only vaguely aware of—and that they were able to unearth my seemingly obscure high school friendships. Frankly, it was pretty creepy.

“Your assignment requires that you be granted Secret clearance. What I’m about to tell you is considered a national secret and you are obligated to keep it confidential. Any breach of secrecy could lead to serious damage to the United States. You will not divulge the nature of your assignment to anyone except me and your new companion. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” The “sir” seemed somehow appropriate. What kind of spy novel have I stumbled into? I wondered. President Packham had retired from the Air Force before he was employed by the Church and later became mission president, but I had no clue that he was involved with a national intelligence agency. I suppose that was by design. This was all too surreal.

“Elder Blake, I would like you too meet Elder Leonard. He is a prototype agent. He volunteered to go under the knife for God and Country. He received special, intensive training and the NSA neurosurgeons altered his brain to make him a walking lie detector. Elder Leonard, ‘red rameumptom’. Do you think that Elder Blake is loyal to his country?”

A strange, dead-eyed look came over Elder Leonard, and he droned “There is a 95% median probability, plus or minus 5%, that Elder Blake is loyal to the United States of America and will fulfill his assignment faithfully. This is an acceptable level of uncertainty for this assignment.”

“Thank you, Elder, ‘green alien porn’.” Personality reëmerged behind Elder Leonard’s eyes.

“You see, Elder Blake, the NSA has created the perfect rational mind. With the use of a hypnotically implanted keyword, Leonard’s mind switches modes. Aside from low-level autonomic tasks such as breathing and hormone control, his rational mind takes complete control of his mind and body. His thinking is in every way rational, avoiding all irrational modes of thought.

“In this perfectly rational state, he recalls all evidence that has been presented to him and perfectly calculates the probability of a truth proposition given what he knows and based solely on logical inference. All subconscious urges and emotions are sequestered from control of his thoughts and actions. When in this state, he feels no emotion, no desire, no bias. In fact, if left in this state, he would forget to eat, drink, or visit the restroom.

“That’s where you come in. Your job is to make sure he stays alive. He can’t stay in this state all the time, so you will use the keywords to manage when he enters and leaves rational mode. You are also to protect his cover as a missionary for the Church. Are you with me so far?”

“I think so.” This was only getting more surreal.

“The scientists at the NSA must have been Trekkies with at least a passing familiarity of the Book of Mormon and a warped sense of humor. Commit these keywords to memory. To induce rational mode, use the phrase ‘red rameumptom’.” There was that dead-eyed stare again. “To terminate rational mode, use the phrase ‘green alien porn’.” Back to normal.

“Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Your new companion can fill you in on the details of your assignment.”

[This is getting a bit long, so I'll continue my story another time.]