by Greg Isle
I didn't know what to say.
"I'm sure I did the right thing by telling you this. I don't want you going through life with a Jesus complex. Go back to being a doctor. Prophecy is a lonely business. "
Levin and his team had not yet learned to synthesize realistic laughter, but if they had, I was certain I would have heard a chuckle as I left.
Beyond the door, Lu Li stood waiting, dressed in her best clothes and wearing a nervous smile. Her eyes watched mine for the slightest clue to what she should expect.
"Is he ready for me, David?"
I nodded, then smiled. Her English had come a long way in three months.
"Is he ... you know. All right?" Her eyes were wet.
"He misses you."
"Good. I have something to tell him." Her smile broadened. "Something that will make him very happy."
"What's that?"
Lu Li shook her head. "I must tell him first. Then you."
She slid past me, into the Containment building.
I walked out into the desert light and looked toward the Administration hangar. Rachel was sitting on the hood of our rented Ford, wearing blue jeans and a white blouse and looking much as she had on the day she'd called me in a panic from her ransacked office. She slipped off the hood and walked toward me, a cautious smile on her face.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
I nodded, my mind still on Fielding's last words. If my dreams really were hallucinations, as Rachel had always claimed, I had a lot of questions about how I had come to know certain facts. But one thing was certain: I could work that out in my own good time.
"You sure?" Rachel said, slipping an arm around my waist. She was always careful to avoid the wounded shoulder. "What did Fielding say?"
"He told me to go back to practicing medicine."
She laughed, her dark eyes flashing in the sun. "I'm with him." Her other arm slipped around my waist, and she pulled me close. "Whatever you need to do. I mean that."
I looked back at the Containment building, then kissed her on the forehead. "You're what I need."
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My deepest gratitude goes to Ray Kurzweil, a pioneering inventor whose insights into artificial intelligence did much to inspire this novel. I still remember the first time I played the grand piano sound on a Kurzweil synthesizer and realized what was possible in the field of electronic music. Kurzweil is a gifted futurist, and his book The Age of Spiritual Machines, should be read by all.
All my novels are enriched by the expertise and insight of many people. I owe them all an expression of thanks.
For his trip to Israel during difficult times: Keith Benoist.
For medical expertise: Salil Tiwari, M.D., Louis Jacobs, D.O., Michael Bourland, M.D., Jerry lies, M.D., Edward Daly, M.D., Fred Emrick, M.D., Simmons lies, R.N.
For military expertise: Major General Chuck Thomas, U.S. Army (retired). Chuck was of great help on very short notice, and he is not responsible for authorial invention as to military capabilities. Thanks also to Cole Cordray, and to S.B. for covert assistance.
For long nights discussing philosophy and religion: Robert Hensley, Michael Taylor, and Win Ward.
For contributions too numerous to name, the usual suspects: Geoff lies, Michael Henry, Ed Stackler. Courtney Aldridge, Jane Hargrove.
For sticking with it: Susan Moldow, Louise Burkt and Susanne Kirk.
Thanks also to the ladies at the Oak Ridge Chamber or Commerce.
As usual, all mistakes are mine.
Finally, to my readers. Writing about science and philosophy in a commercial novel is problematic. Write about them at their natural level and you leave the masses behind. Simplify too much, and you offend people conversant in those subjects. I trust you will enter this book as an exercise of the mind, and not judge too harshly either way. If we have learned anything in the past ten thousand years, it is that nothing is certain.