“I’m well aware,” said Bahar. “And you also need to treat the girl like delicate crystal. If she dies, my boss won’t rest until you die as well. And your family and friends. Trust me, you do not want to disappoint my boss on this one. In fact, you had better be armed with rubber bullets and other non-lethal equipment.”
“Five times our normal fee?” said Patel.
Tariq Bahar had worked with these men before, and they had established a strong basis for trust. They knew that Bahar’s word was his bond. “Five times,” confirmed Bahar. “But you’d better take what I’ve told you to heart. And you’ll need to be at your very best.”
“Don’t worry,” said Patel confidently. “We know what you want. We will create a diversion. Pretend to attack Craft until they are separated. And then take the girl. Alive. And we’ll stay out of Craft’s sight.”
“Good. And disengage the moment you have her. Craft will go to heroic efforts to stop you. And he is far more formidable than you might think.”
“Uh huh,” said Patel, unable to fully conceal his skepticism. “So the girl needs to live. What about Craft? What if he dies?”
If only, thought Bahar. Al Yad would give them their weight in diamonds if this were to happen. But he couldn’t tell Patel that. If he did, they would focus on killing Craft, which they didn’t fully understand could not be done, rather than getting the girl.
“Craft is incidental,” replied Bahar. “I don’t care if he lives or dies.”
He thought about ordering them to tail Craft again after they had taken the girl, but he knew it would be futility itself. Craft would never allow it once they had revealed themselves.
“Just bring me Alyssa Aronson,” said Bahar. “Alive and well.”
“Roger that,” said Santosh Patel.
22
The recording lasted for over an hour. Craft stopped to ask Alyssa questions on occasion, but rarely. At one point in the recording, she had no idea where, she thought she saw Craft’s eyes light up, gleam with an almost neon intensity, but she might have been imagining it.
When Craft finished, he turned to her and said, “I am so sorry you had to go through that, Alyssa,” and his voice was a mixture of outrage and barely contained fury.
They got back on the road and drove in silence for several minutes, each alone with their thoughts. Craft took a left at a busy intersection at the behest of the SUV’s navigation system.
“Where are we going?” asked Alyssa.
“Breakfast,” said Craft. “You’ve been through the wringer. I thought you’d be up for some nutrition you don’t have to get through an IV.”
Alyssa smiled thinly. He was right. She was hungry. And sitting down over some eggs and toast did seem civilized after what she had gone through.
“So you’ll tell me anything I want to know?” said Alyssa.
“Anything. I doubt you’ll believe this, but that was always the plan. I had just hoped for us to get closer first. So you would be more open minded to what I might tell you.”
Alyssa thought about this. “And in return, I suppose you want me to tell you everything you want to know?”
But even as she said it she realized that her computer system was cake for this guy compared to those he had already demonstrated he could crack. That’s how he must have learned of her research in the first place. He already knew everything there was to know about her.
Well, almost everything. There were key components that she hadn’t put in the computer—secret sauce that he would need to know to replicate her work precisely. Which is probably what he had discovered and why he needed her now.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” replied Craft. “I already know enough to know that you’re perfect. Beyond my wildest hopes perfect.”
“Perfect for what?” she said. “What do you want with me?”
Craft sighed. “That’s a bit complicated. I’m not trying to be evasive. But you have to know a lot more to have any chance of understanding my answer. Or believing it. So why don’t we start elsewhere and come back to this.” He smiled wistfully. “Believe me, it’s critically important to me that you know how you fit in.”
“Okay,” said Alyssa. “Fair enough.” She studied his profile for several seconds as he drove. “So tell me about yourself. Let’s start there. Pretend I know nothing about you, and start when you were a kid.”
Craft quickly described his upbringing in Iowa. It seemed normal enough to Alyssa. He had led a baseball, soccer, and skinned knees sort of childhood. Well, except for the part about having taught himself algebra in the third grade because he had found it so interesting. He mentioned this as if this were the most normal thing in the world. He did the same when he came to describe his prodigious computer skills. By the fifth grade, little Bren’s father was enrolling him in college level programming courses online. By the seventh grade he had taken numerous graduate level programming courses and was doing original work of his own.
Then his dad had passed away. They were a very religious catholic family, and when his mom was passing away several years later, he promised her he would go into the seminary.
Alyssa already knew of these events, but she let Craft describe them, as a check on the major’s intel and to get some details filled in.
“With your scientific skills,” she said, “this must have been a difficult choice to make.”
“Yes. But I had made a promise. As you might expect, when I went to follow through on it, most people were pretty stunned. And concerned. They thought I was wasting a lot of talent, a lot of potential.”
“And those arguments didn’t sway you?”
“I really was spiritual,” he replied. “Despite being enamored with science. Does that surprise you?”
“Not at all,” said Alyssa, even though she wasn’t being entirely honest.
“I felt as though, if God had a plan for me,” continued Craft, “He would make sure I lived up to my potential.” He had been making intermittent eye contact with Alyssa, but turned his full attention back to the road. “But it didn’t work out. I left the priesthood very early on.”
Alyssa raised her eyebrows. “Just didn’t work out?” she said suggestively.
Craft sighed. “Sounds like you’ve already been briefed on what happened,” he said. “I was hoping the major had skipped over that part. But you’re going to force me to tell you anyway.”
“You did say anything,” said Alyssa.
“Okay, you win. It turned out that I had a libido the size of Texas. In my early twenties, I may have been the horniest young man who ever lived. A pretty grave character flaw when you’ve taken a lifetime vow of celibacy.”
Alyssa couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, I’ve read your blog on the subject.”
Craft nodded, and his expression was one of both amusement and embarrassment.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I thought your blog post was excellent. And the science you included was very accurate, and very persuasive.”
They arrived at their destination, the Bluegrass Waffle House, and were soon seated in a booth inside, requesting the most isolated one possible. They both ordered and then resumed their conversation.
Craft continued describing his life after the priesthood. How he had become fascinated with quantum mechanics and had devoted himself to this field, becoming accomplished very quickly. And how he had developed an algorithm that had ultimately earned him fifty million dollars. Alyssa had wondered if he would mention this.
So he had been rich, charming, and attractive. Not that Alyssa would ever put it this way to him. And he had no need to work. As young as he was at the time, he had put himself in an enviable position. Alyssa knew better than anyone that wealth didn’t necessarily buy happiness, but she would guess he didn’t have any trouble satisfying his oversized libido. She wasn’t sure why this thought had entered her mind, but she pushed it away and focused on what he was saying, having already missed his previous few sentences.
; “. . . and it was at that time,” continued Craft, “that I stumbled across a story about a man who had reportedly fasted for several years without any negative health effects.”
“Negative health effects?” repeated Alyssa. “You mean like dying?”
Craft laughed. “Yes. I’m pretty sure the medical community considers this a negative effect.”
It was then that Alyssa realized he was moving on to describe the next phase of his life, but had skipped over his fascination with The God Theory entirely. Had he done this on purpose?
Regardless, this was an important area for her to explore. It was this subject that was most likely to bring out the crazy in Brennan Craft, something he had hidden so beautifully up until this point.
The deluded could fool you. Right up until the point you switched the subject to the space program, and they began foaming at the mouth while insisting an immortal Elvis, who was actually an outer-space alien, shot Kennedy, who was actually a robot, before teaming up with the Freemasons and Illuminati to help NASA fake the moon landing.
Alyssa leaned in. “Before you skip ahead,” she said. “What can you tell me about a book called The God Theory?”
23
There was a long pause as Brennan Craft finished the last of his pancakes and they both ordered coffee. Alyssa hadn’t realize just how badly she was in need of caffeine, having only managed to take a single sip of her last coffee before all hell had broken loose.
“My compliments to the, ah . . . biographers . . . at your agency,” said Brennan Craft. “They were very thorough.” He considered. “I would love to discuss this theory in great detail, but it would take too long. And we have more pressing matters to discuss. Are you willing to take a rain check?”
Alyssa realized she must have looked disappointed at this, because the corners of Craft’s mouth turned up into a reluctant smile and he added, “but just so I don’t gloss over this part of my life entirely, let me give you at least a little background.”
“Thanks,” said Alyssa.
“The God Theory is a book written by Bernard Haisch. He and I have a lot of similarities. He is a successful and accomplished scientist. And he’s helped make breakthroughs in the field of quantum physics, especially as this relates to something called the zero point field, which I plan to discuss momentarily. And like me, he attended the seminary.”
“Really?” said Alyssa in amusement. “The seminary must be jam packed with brilliant physicists who are experts in quantum theory,” she added wryly.
“Not as many as you might think,” he replied with a grin.
“Well, I can see why you were curious about his writings.”
“I didn’t think I’d purchase the book,” said Craft, “but I decided to give it a try after reading the reviews. The book was being lauded by a number of scientists. Seemed to resonate with them. Hit the logic centers of their brains in just the right way. But I was skeptical. I felt as though I was bright, and had given divinity a lot of thought. A lot of thought. I doubted he could possibly get me to see things in a new way, but I gave it a try.”
“And you became a convert,” said Alyssa simply.
“I became intrigued with the concepts presented,” he corrected. “And came to believe they were valid. Convert has a more dogmatic nuance to it than I’d like to use.”
“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t,” said Alyssa.
“Well, whatever the case, I just want to be clear that I don’t believe in this dogmatically. These are a set of spiritual truths that resonate with me, that I believe are correct. But everyone is free to choose, and in fact, the theory encompasses aspects of a number of religions.”
Alyssa frowned. If this was the part where he showed he was delusional and began foaming at the mouth, she had missed it.
“No one knows for certain what is really going on,” said Craft. “All I know is that everything around us is astonishing. Impossible. We live in a universe so finely tuned for complex chemistry and life that the odds against it are greater than those of winning a thousand lotteries in a row. In a universe filled with exquisite microorganisms, voracious black holes, and trillions of stars, each of which can fit a million or more Earths inside. How can we possibly think that any view of God or creation can capture more than the tiniest hint of this reality?”
Wow, thought Alyssa. There was an inner passion and poetry to Craft’s words, and she couldn’t help but be somewhat swept up in his vision. People went about their day to day lives, not often considering the grandeur of creation, or the infinity of the cosmos. Perhaps that was why early man was so spiritual, because he looked up to stars each night. When was the last time she had spent any time star gazing, contemplating the countless diamonds of light, each representing incomprehensible furnaces burning for billions of years.
“So I don’t pretend to know for sure what is really going on,” continued Craft. “Our minds are too puny to grasp it even if it were shown to us. I am always amazed at the level of certainty those on both sides of the spectrum bring to the debate. I’ve met atheists who are absolutely certain a creator doesn’t exist. Absolutely certain, despite the impossibility of the cosmos, thinking the very notion is the height of absurdity. Unable to imagine they could possibly be mistaken.
“And I’ve met practitioners of organized religions who are equally certain their view is correct. That cows are sacred, that this is self-evident, and who can’t even imagine a cosmos where this isn’t true. That Jesus was divine, refusing to allow for the tiniest possibility that the biblical accounts might not be absolutely accurate. And at the same time, ridiculing the beliefs of others.”
Alyssa was captivated and found herself agreeing with Craft in every respect. Not only wasn’t this the part where he revealed himself to be a crackpot, he was sounding more rational than the vast majority of people she knew. And now she was intrigued. For some reason, she suddenly believed that this God Theory would be more plausible and compelling than she had thought, when he did have more time to describe it to her.
Craft raised his eyebrows. “Okay to move on now?”
Alyssa nodded.
“So I was talking about fasting,” said Craft, sipping at his coffee and setting the mug down gently on the table. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I soon found out prolonged fasting has a following among any number of people across the world. Given the quality of your briefing, I’m sure you’ve heard of this.”
“Yes. It’s called Inedia. Or Breatharianism.”
“Exactly. Inedia is just Latin for fasting. Makes it sound more sophisticated that way,” explained Craft, flashing another disarming smile. “And Breatharians speak about living, not from the intake of food, but off light itself. Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it?”
“Very,” said Alyssa simply.
“I thought so too. But when I read about it, a wild idea came to mind. One of the wildest, craziest ideas I’ve ever had. But let me back up.” He paused, considering the best way to proceed. “We’ve spoken about quantum physics. The most successful theory of all time.”
Alyssa smiled. This was an often used mantra in quantum physics, and exactly what she had told Major Elovic. Given it’s predictions had been so well verified, and given its role in underpinning computers and lasers and the like, however, this was absolutely true.
“And as you, yourself, described it during our lunch,” continued Craft, “the quantum world is also quite insane. One consequence of the theory, which has been proven beyond any doubt, by the way, is something called the zero point field. Are you familiar with this?”
Alyssa had come across the concept in her readings. But she preferred to hear what Craft had to say about it. “I’m afraid not,” she lied.
“Quantum theory reveals that there really is no such thing as a vacuum. In a sane universe, if you removed all matter and energy from a portion of deep interstellar space, you’d have a vacuum. But in our insane universe, this isn’t the case. No matter what you do, there is always an
underlying, seething froth of activity. Particles—energy—pop into and out of the void constantly. Randomly.”
He paused. “This is called the zero point field. And if you do the math, you find that there is an incomprehensibly large amount of energy in every square centimeter of space. The universe has provided the ultimate free lunch, just waiting to be harvested.” He stared at her intently. “Zero point energy.”
“Go on,” said Alyssa. So far this matched her understanding exactly.
“Collectively, this zero point energy is basically infinite. And it pervades the entire universe. It exists in interstellar space and in the empty spaces between atoms of your body. A cubic mile of space contains more energy than the lifetime output of our sun.” He shook his head. “But, unfortunately, there’s no way to tap into it. This energy flashes into and out of existence so quickly there’s no way to grab onto it.”
“How quickly are we talking about? A trillionth of a second?”
Craft shook his head. “I wish,” he said in amusement. “No, it exists for far less time than this. Physicists have tried to think of ways to catch it, for obvious reasons, but have failed, and most have concluded it can’t be done. Ever. Even so, NASA has been studying this area for years.”
“If it’s impossible, why does NASA waste its time?”
“Good question. I guess because the potential payoff is so enormous. But for years the zero point field really has become the ugly stepchild of quantum physics, locked in the basement. It is an annoyance. Since it is infinite and pervasive, it can be largely ignored, even in equations. And infinity can be such a pain in the neck to deal with, most think it’s far better to have it brushed under the carpet. It has become a term physicists largely forget as they go about their daily business.”
“I’m not sure I get it. You’re saying that the zero point field affects us so little that physicists can all but ignore it. But if this energy is so all-pervasive, and nearly infinite, how is it that we don’t feel it?”
Quantum Lens Page 12