The Tree of Knowledge

by Daniel G. Miller

  Albert could still feel the red in his cheek. “Well, it’s my birthday, Sarah, so how ’bout you buy me a drink,” he said, trying to mimic her Southern accent. Ariel had told him that people tend to respond more to those who adopt their mannerisms, and they always love hearing the sound of their own name.

  “Well, I suppose I could do that for you, sweetheart.”

  Albert attempted to stifle his smile. Is this beautiful woman buying me a drink? “Thank you, Sarah. My name is Joe.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Joe.”

  As the bartender brought them their drinks, Albert’s new friend crossed her legs and rubbed her foot. “Oh, my feet are killin’ me.”

  Albert noticed that Sarah wore heels of at least five inches in height. He had always found this ritual by which women punished their feet absurd and couldn’t help but comment.

  He smirked. “See, I’ll never understand that. Why do you women wear such uncomfortable shoes?”

  Sarah leaned back with a perplexed look on her face. “Um, because they look good.”

  Albert pressed on. “Well, the reason you think they look good is because that’s what society tells you looks good. There’s nothing inherently better looking about high heels than flats.”

  The second the words came out of his mouth, Albert knew he had lost her.

  Chapter 19

  “Whatta we got?” said Eva as she entered the hotel room of the Princeton Hyatt Regency that had become her official war room. She hated this hotel. Every time she walked through the door, cheap cologne and the stench of men insisted on making their presence known. Her face was beginning to show the strain. Over the past several days, she had interviewed countless acquaintances of Puddles, Turner, and Ying and had come up with absolutely nothing. The illegal wiretap she had been running on Detective Weatherspoon had been equally worthless, and the general’s impatience was showing more by the day.

  “We’ve got something,” shouted Agent Beel, waving a piece of paper in the air in triumph. Beel’s excitement could be measured by the rate at which his jaws gnawed on his oversized wad of gum.

  Eva gave a skeptical stare. Up to this point, the blond surfer-cum-FBI agent had done little to advance her investigation. Days ago, she had asked for data on Puddles’s and Turner’s cell phones, and Beel still hadn’t produced anything.

  The agent smiled. “You know, that cell phone data you wanted.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I got it. It looks like Puddles and the gang are in Vermont.”

  “Now?”

  “Well, as of a couple weeks ago. They shut off their cell phones.”

  Eva bit her lip. “That information would have been valuable then, but they could be anywhere now.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic,” chided the young agent. He leaned back in the undersized maroon hotel desk chair and ran his fingers through his overly gelled hair. “Let me talk to a few contacts and see what I can come up—Hey, where you going?”

  Eva opened the door of the hotel room. “Vermont, and you’re coming with me.”

  Chapter 20

  After Albert’s new friend Sarah politely explained that she needed to go to the bathroom and then never returned, the gang gave up on the night’s lesson and headed back to the farm for their briefing on Eva Fix. Gabe and Ariel had spent the last couple of days gathering information on the woman in black and were eager to share it with the rest of the team. Albert’s brain was clouded with exhaustion, and just keeping his eyes open was a Herculean task. While he couldn’t wait to learn more about Eva, he wanted nothing more than to collapse into his bed and sleep until he couldn’t sleep anymore.

  Albert and Ying flopped onto the living room couches, and Gabe passed out detailed portfolios to the group. The cover page, coated in plastic, and its accompanying television screen image said, “Eva Fix: Personal Profile.” Albert found the minimalist order of Gabe’s presentation to be quite pleasing and proceeded to flip through the binder.

  Gabe began, tapping the computer keys to change slides as he went along. He adjusted his wheelchair toward the television screen. “Eva Veronica Portilla Fix was born twenty-eight years ago to Cristina Culebra and Calvin Fix.”

  Both Albert’s and Ying’s heads snapped around to look at each other and then back at Turner to make sure they had heard correctly. But Turner just sat stone-faced, absorbing Gabe’s presentation.

  Albert couldn’t restrain himself. “Waaaiiit. You’re telling me that Eva Fix is Cristina Culebra’s daughter?”

  “Yes. Why?” said Gabe, somewhat confused at why this first bit of information was having such an impact on the professor.

  “So, Professor Turner, Cristina Culebra is the woman you fell in love with?”

  The professor sighed. “I’m afraid so.”

  “Don’t you think that was information that you should have shared with us?” asked Albert, doing his very best to contain his apoplexy.

  “Cristina Culebra is not our problem. Eva Fix is our problem. I didn’t feel that it was relevant.”

  “Didn’t feel it was relevant! I—” Albert threw his hands in the air and looked at Ying, who appeared equally flummoxed.

  Seeking to massage the tension, Gabe continued, “Eva’s father, Calvin, owned Fix Industries, a defense company, but died of a heart attack when Eva was a baby. Cristina never remarried. She raised Eva while assuming leadership of Fix Industries. From an early age, Eva displayed exceptional abilities in mathematics and chess. At the age of twelve, she became a chess grand master, and at the age of fourteen, she was admitted into Princeton University’s mathematics program.

  “While at Princeton, Eva became involved with the Society for Reason, Enlightenment, and Democracy or RED, a quasi-political, charitable movement founded by her mother. By the age of seventeen, she was a major force in the movement, leading the development and mass adoption of the ‘Red Army.’ Under her leadership, the organization built schools in every major state in the country and raised an annual budget of nearly five billion dollars—exceeding that of the United Way and Salvation Army. The organization is particularly prominent in California, with over one hundred schools.”

  “Ahhhh, your girlfriend is a philanthropist,” said Ying, elbowing Albert in the ribs.

  Albert simply shook his head and maintained his focus on Gabe.

  “Her success in RED led her to leave Princeton prior to finishing her doctoral program to begin an apprenticeship with her mother at Fix Industries. Under Cristina Culebra’s leadership, growth at Fix Industries has exploded. At the time of Calvin’s death, the company was a sleepy defense contractor, but now Fix Industries makes everything from advanced weapons systems to artificial intelligence, to paper plates and is worth over one hundred billion dollars, making Culebra the richest woman in the world.”

  Gabe changed the slide to a picture of Cristina Culebra smiling and shaking hands in a rope line overflowing with fans.

  “With her wealth and position atop the business elite secured, Ms. Culebra has now turned her attention to politics. Under the newly created RED Party, she has successfully launched a campaign for governor of California and currently leads in all polls by over twenty points. I’ve included a list of links to her speeches on page five of your packet. She’s really quite impressive.”

  “I told you that Cristina Culebra was good,” said Ying, pointing at Professor Turner.

  “I never said she wasn’t impressive, Ms. Koh, I said she was dangerous.”

  Ignoring the interruption, Gabe continued, showing clippings of headlines concerning Eva. “During this period, Eva has continued to work at the company and lead the Red Army. She has held several roles within Fix Industries over the last ten years. Currently, she is the company’s chief security officer, handling all security issues, ranging from industrial espionage to proprietary government contracting. However, it is widely
assumed that this is merely a holding position for her while she is groomed to take over for Ms. Culebra.”

  Gabe paused and pointed. “Ariel, I think you would be best suited to go over her psychological profile.”

  The wiry blonde woman rose from her chair and calmly took command of the presentation, flipping the slides to a close-up shot of Eva in a full suit wearing her trademark fedora.

  God, she’s stunning, thought Albert.

  “Eva’s psychological profile states that she is of a very specific personality type commonly known as ‘generals.’ Generals like Ms. Fix consistently focus on the most efficient and organized means of performing a task in everything they do. She is a superior leader who is both realistic and visionary in implementing a long-term plan. She tends to be fiercely independent in her decision-making, which has often created clashes with her mother, who is also a general. Eva analyzes and always structures the world around her in a logical and rational way, which makes it difficult for her to consider subjective or emotional influences. This can result in questionable moral judgments and actions.”

  “Like framing her friends?” said Albert.

  Ariel smiled. “Exactly. To that point, Eva Fix is widely thought of as an extremely dynamic problem solver with an abnormally high degree of confidence in her own abilities. This is both a strength and a weakness. Throughout her career, she has consistently shown an arrogant impatience that has led to mistakes. Her errors in robbing the bank were a classic example. The force of her personality exacerbates this problem because she can so easily cow others into doing what she wants, whether or not it is the right course of action.

  “In both her business and charitable activities, Eva has been hugely successful and receives unquestioning devotion and respect from her employees and volunteers. However, she is almost universally seen as unsympathetic and intolerant of failure. She leads through a combination of fear and devotion, but not intimacy. As a result, her personal life is essentially nonexistent. She has no real friends and has not had any discernible romantic relationship since . . . well . . . you, Puddles.”

  Albert felt the familiar flush in his face. She had been fourteen. He’d been friendly to a lonely kid, that was all.

  Gabe resumed the presentation. “Now we get to the scary stuff. In her post as chief security officer, Eva has used her not-trivial talents to steadily build a deep network of leaders in the defense, law enforcement, and security sectors.”

  “This is why I said you guys were in trouble,” said Brick, rising from his chair and tapping the screen.

  Gabe continued, “Indeed. Eva Fix commands the fealty of nearly every major military and law enforcement official in California and the US. She is on a first-name basis with the head of the FBI, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs, commander of the National Guard, the head of the California Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation, the LA County sheriff, and on down. These relationships are so numerous and cover such a range of influence that multiple independent watchdog groups have investigated for evidence of corruption. To date, no hard evidence has been found, but in talking with folks in the industry, we’ve discovered a widely held belief that there is a steady money stream coming from her office.”

  “Jesus,” said Albert. “What does this all mean for us?”

  “Big trouble,” said Ying.

  “Indeed. In my opinion, in not weeks but days, we will have the full weight of law enforcement bearing down on us.”

  Chapter 21

  Ying’s heavy eyes scanned the screen of the ancient computer in Albert’s room while she worked her way through one of the Ring Pops that had been part of her peacocking arsenal from earlier that evening. Video after video on YouTube showed friends playing pranks on one another, families celebrating birthdays, lovers kissing. The moments that make life. In one day, those moments had been snatched from her and put on hold. Under construction until further notice. She knew there was no choice. She knew they had to leave. But the penetrating isolation of the Travis Farm, of being away from everything she had worked so hard to build at Princeton, crushed her. At Princeton, she was finally somebody. The person who might understand was Albert, but did he? Could he?

  At that moment, Puddles entered the room, not even noticing she was there. Ying quietly observed as he began to size himself up in the full-length mirror to the right of the entrance. She stifled a laugh but couldn’t help but notice Albert’s wiry physique.

  “Really checking yourself out there, aren’t you?” said Ying.

  Albert jumped against the wall and banged into his dresser with both his arms, all the while scrambling to keep his towel from dropping.

  “Jesus, Ying! You scared me to death. What are you doing here?”

  “Sorry about that. I wanted to watch those clips of Cristina Culebra, and I don’t have a computer in my room.”

  Albert rubbed his eyes. “Can’t this wait for tomorrow?”

  “As my mom used to say, ‘Tomorrow is promised to no one,’” replied Ying. The thought of her parents gripped her. She hadn’t spoken to them since her final text telling them she was working on a ‘top-secret project’ with Professor Turner and would be out of contact for a few weeks. She worried how long a few weeks would really be.

  “Ying? Hello?”

  She cleared her mind and smiled at the skinny, wet man in front of her.

  “Come sit with me. We’ll just watch one, and then I swear I’m out of here.”

  “Fine. Do you mind if I put some clothes on first?”

  “Sure, no problem,” said Ying, continuing to sit at his desk chair smiling. “Let’s see the show.”

  Albert was too tired to argue, so he reluctantly slid his boxers and shorts on underneath his towel, grabbed a T-shirt, and sat down next to his graduate assistant.

  “Boooooo.”

  Disappointed, Ying turned and typed in the first link from Gabe’s presentation.

  The YouTube clip titled “Cristina Culebra on 60 Minutes” began rolling.

  Anchor Scott Pelley sat on a chair in front of the iconic black 60 Minutes background.

  “In just a few weeks, California will be electing a new governor. Less than a year ago, political prognosticators predicted that this would be one of the closest races in the country, pitting two legendary Democratic and Republican state politicians against each other in one of the most consequential elections that California has ever seen. But then along came Cristina Culebra, a legendary businesswoman and political neophyte. Despite her extraordinary wealth and success, experts gave her and her newly formed RED Party little chance of success.

  “But now, with two weeks remaining, the entire state of California has taken notice. Backed by her Red Army of fervent political supporters, the candidate has developed an almost rock-star-like following and now leads most polls by over twenty percentage points. Recently, we sat down with the candidate turned political phenomenon to find out what all the fuss was about.”

  The video cut to a close-up shot of Cristina Culebra sitting poised and confident in a softly lit room. Albert marveled at how much she reminded him of her daughter.

  The interviewer began, “In addition to your campaign, you have supported a ballot initiative that would eliminate the state legislature and replace it with an advisory council. Your opponents have accused you of, quote, ‘subverting democracy and attempting to establish tyranny in California.’ What do you say to that?”

  Cristina Culebra calmly flashed her paper-white smile and tilted her head. “I’m glad you asked that, Scott. Before I answer your question, let me correct you on a couple of points. First, the initiative is not my initiative. It is the initiative of the people of California. And the people of California are tired of a government that has failed them, and they are looking to reform a broken system. Over five million people have signed on to this initiative. I have joined these Californians in signing th
e initiative because I think it will enable me to do the people’s business more effectively, but at the end of the day, it is the people’s choice, not mine. Second, you mentioned that the initiative would replace the legislature when, in fact, it would merely suspend the legislature temporarily so that the urgent business of the people can be done. After four years, if our reforms fail, we can always return to the old system.

  “Now, to answer your question, you mentioned that my opponents refer to this as tyranny. I would argue that it is quite the opposite: that my opponents are tyrants. They are the ones who have ignored the will of the very people who voted them into office by racking up massive debt, starving schools, and neglecting roads and basic infrastructure, all the while providing payouts to their cronies. To me, this is the essence of tyranny. My campaign is built on overcoming this tyranny with reasoned, pragmatic problem-solving. At the end of the day, people ask for very little. They want safe neighborhoods, good-paying jobs, strong schools, a clean environment, and good transportation. And they want it done with as little waste of their tax money as possible. With the right system and the right leadership, those goals shouldn’t be extraordinary; they should be commonplace.”

  Albert looked at Ying and nodded with a surprised look on his face.

  “See, I told you she was good,” said Ying.

  The narration resumed. “In addition to being the leading candidate, Ms. Culebra is the chairwoman and CEO of Fix Industries, one of the nation’s largest companies, which makes everything from fighter planes to paper cups. She toured us around the factory.”

  The camera cut to shots of Cristina and Pelley walking next to a bomber jet as Cristina shook hands with the mechanics. Cristina pointed to the nose of the plane. “You see this slanted nose here? It’s a little design feature, but it can cut wind resistance by five percent.”

  The camera cut to the two of them walking through the lobby of Fix Industries.