Elias followed the directions provided by Wilson. Both Walden and Madison had constructed barriers at the entrances to their enclaves. Thanks to Wilson, he knew the configuration of the entrance, but had no idea what he would encounter, in terms of perimeter security, when he reached the boundary of Kreitzmann's area.
In his mind, Elias visualized the layout of Aegis as a clock face. With the entrance at six o'clock, he knew that ZooCity roughly occupied the seven to eight o'clock portion of the face. Walden was basically in the four to five o'clock region, with Madison filling the two to three o'clock space. The route laid out by Wilson placed Kreitzmann's lab and compound from nine o'clock to approximately eleven o'clock.
It was accessible by not only one of the spoke corridors, as the others were, but by two. With no real reason, Elias had chosen the corridor on the left, and was slowly moving forward. His level of vigilance was at its maximum internal setting, his senses so intensified that the sounds of his breathing and heartbeat seemed amplified, and the noise from each careful footfall was almost like thunder to his ears.
The corridors and hallways were still deserted. Elias was relieved he did not encounter some meandering Aegis resident, fearful that, in his heightened state, he might loose a barrage from the automatic rifle without determining if he or she was even a threat.
He neared the point in the corridor where Wilson said the entrance would be, and was reassured to see that it was set up exactly as described. There was no doorless block barrier as there had been at Walden. Nor was there the offsetting serpentine maze with gun slots which Madison utilized. Instead, there was a simple wall across the corridor with a double door in the center. From his current distance, he could see that there were two peepholes, one in each leaf of the double door.
Since his conversation with Wilson, Elias had decided that a direct approach, with a bit of subterfuge, was probably the best tactic for gaining access to the compound and to Kreitzmann himself. With that in mind, he dropped the cautious air of a soldier on a reconnaissance mission and adopted a casual demeanor. Slinging the rifle over his shoulder, Elias walked directly to the double doors and knocked.
Almost instantly, the doors opened. Elias was surprised to see that he was not greeted by some tough-looking guard, but rather by a young woman who could fit easily into the role of a receptionist at a corporate high rise.
"Can I help you?"
Elias smiled. "I'm here to see Dr. Kreitzmann."
The woman eyed the AK-47. "Of course. But I'm afraid you'll have to relinquish your weapons if you wish to come in."
"Not a problem," Elias answered. "I only armed myself because I hit a few rough patches coming through the facility. I shouldn't think I'd need them now that I'm here."
He unslung the rifle and handed it to her. She took it by gripping the barrel with her thumb and two fingers, as if she were accepting his soiled undergarments. Next, he reached into the pocket of his windbreaker and pulled out the 9mm, relinquishing that, as well.
"Please come in," she said, turning away from him and gingerly placing his weapons on a side table.
Elias stepped through the doorway into a large room, the width of the corridor and at least thirty feet deep. Inside were the side table, a desk with two visitors chairs, and three work cubicles. He noticed that the three cubicles were occupied, two by women and one by a man, all of the occupants at work on something displayed on the computer screens in front of them, none of them paying Elias any heed.
"What's your name?" Elias asked conversationally as the woman turned back to face him.
"Anita. And may I tell the doctor who is calling?"
Grinning at the surreal formality in the midst of Aegis, he answered, "Of course. I'm Patrick Brightman."
If she recognized the name, no indication showed on her face as she shook his hand.
"I'll tell the doctor. Please have a seat." She motioned toward the two chairs at the desk. "It should only be a few minutes."
"Thank you."
She turned and left the room. Elias lowered himself into one of the chairs and waited. He was certain that one of the women at the cubicles was watching him, so he made a point of leaning back in the seat, casually crossing his legs, and staring upward at the ceiling, while showing no interest at all in his surroundings or the paperwork on Anita's desk.
At least ten minutes passed before Elias heard someone approaching. Standing, he saw Rudy Kreitzmann entering the room, followed by Anita. Tall and lean, the scientist was wearing a long-sleeved, powder-blue dress shirt and dark slacks. His hair was cut short in a military style, and he had no moustache or beard. Noticeably, he had the air and demeanor of a confident and competent surgeon.
"Doctor Brightman. A pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine, Doctor Kreitzmann."
"Please, come with me to my office."
"Thank you."
Kreitzmann turned his head toward the woman. "Thank you, Anita."
"Of course, Doctor." She took her seat at the desk, as Elias followed the scientist down the hallway from which he had emerged.
"And please, sir," Kreitzmann requested as they walked, "we are not all that formal here. I would appreciate it if you would call me Rudy."
"Of course," Elias replied, "and I prefer Patrick over Pat."
"Patrick, it is. If you don't mind my asking, what brings you to Aegis?"
Elias had planned out his response. "Several factors, really. I have admired your work from afar for quite some time."
"Thank you. I am a bit surprised. We never communicated."
Even though they were walking at a brisk pace, Elias attempted to convey embarrassment. "Yes. That's true. I must admit I was somewhat…."
"Afraid," Kreitzmann finished the sentence.
"Yes. I suppose that would be it."
"Don't be concerned. I made many more enemies out there than friends. And you wouldn't be the first to keep your support for my work to yourself. Doing so publicly would have been the kiss of death for you or, at the very least, your funding."
Elias nodded his agreement. "I'm glad you understand. That being said, I came upon a roadblock, a rather substantial one, in my own work, and have been struggling to get past it for quite some time. I have suspected that it is a problem with which you could be of some help."
"I'd be happy to do so. But I have a feeling that there is another reason for your sudden arrival here."
They had been following a meandering route through several turns, and finally arrived at an open doorway with the plaque "Director" beside it. Kreitzmann entered and immediately walked to the large conference table, set off to one side of the large office.
"Please have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"
Eyeing the glass pitcher on the table, rivulets of condensation running down the sides, Elias answered, "Water would be fine."
Kreitzmann turned over two inverted glasses and filled them both from the pitcher. Elias sat down and was soon joined by the scientist, who took a swivel chair next to him.
"You're right. There was another factor in my decision to exile myself, in a manner of speaking, to Aegis."
Kreitzmann waited silently.
"Throughout my life I have had two things which meant more to me than anything else. Not in the order of priority, my work, of course, was one of them – the other, my wife. It was because of her that I chose the lifestyle that I did."
"I don't understand."
Elias borrowed from his true feelings for his wife and allowed his face to reflect a gamut of emotions as he spoke. "We were so much in love. From the day I met her until…well, until just recently, we were one of those rare couples who are inseparable by choice."
"That is quite rare."
"Yes. Most married folks seem to relish getting away from each other in every way they can. Belinda and I wanted the exact opposite. We would have been perfectly happy being within each other's sight twenty-four hours a day."
"Sounds wonderful."
"It was and, as a result, I never took sabbaticals when I taught. Eventually, I quit teaching, refused all invitations for seminars, workshops…well, you know, all of the demands on a scientist's time that draw him away from home."
Kreitzmann nodded.
"My goal, which I attained, was to obtain private funding and establish a lab at my residence. We bought a ranch outside of Albuquerque and turned one of the outbuildings into a lab. I worked there with Belinda as my partner, helper, and companion. As I told you, I attended no conferences or workshops. Nothing. I'm afraid I essentially became a recluse or a hermit, if you will."
Kreitzmann smiled. "I heard that about you. Bit of a mystery man."
"And in the process, my contempt for my fellow man grew. Rather exponentially, I might add."
The smile leaving his face, Kreitzmann asked, "And your wife? As committed to one another as you are, is she with you here in Aegis?"
Somberly, Elias answered, "No, she's not. I lost her. Three months ago. To cancer."
"I am so very sorry."
"Thank you." Drawing a deep breath, Elias continued, "Losing her caused me to do a great deal of soul searching. I decided that, without her, there was no longer any reason whatsoever to remain…out there. My work had reached an impasse. My reason for living had died with her."
"You mentioned that you came to me for help with your work. How did you know I was in Aegis?"
"I didn't. I came to Aegis for the same reason so many others come here. It wasn't until after I arrived that I discovered your presence. The news sparked something in me, and I realized that I did still want to complete my research, if only to give Belinda and myself the satisfaction of doing so."
Elias expected to be asked from whom he had heard about Kreitzmann living in Aegis, but the man seemed comfortable with the fact.
"I understand. And please accept my sincere sympathy for your loss."
"Thank you very much."
"I never married," Kreitzmann continued, without the slightest show of emotion accompanying his statement, "so I never knew the love and connection that you described. I have been a slave to my research since my college days. I envy what you had, even though it ended the way that it did."
"I wouldn't trade those years for anything in the world."
"I can tell that."
Slapping the tops of his thighs with his hands, Kreitzmann changed the subject. "I'm certain that you are eager to discuss your obstacle, as it were. However, I would like to offer you a tour of our facility. Perhaps you will see a niche that needs to be filled by a man of your talent and knowledge."
"I would enjoy that."
Elias stood between Kreitzmann and a lab technician with the name Bonillas stitched above the pen pocket of her white lab coat. In front of them was a twenty-foot-long one-way mirror which allowed viewing into a room filled with children. The youngsters, ages ranging up to approximately nine, to Elias' eye, were scattered about the large room, which resembled a well-equipped day-care center. Some sat at desks or at a large table; some were on the floor. All seemed occupied with toys, coloring books, or other objects. At first glance the scene appeared normal to Elias; then he noticed that there was no talking between or from any of the children.
Before he could ask a question, Kreitzmann commenced, "Doctor Bonillas, why don't you explain to Doctor Brightman what we are accomplishing here."
"Of course, sir. This is our language enhancement lab."
"Language enhancement? None of them are speaking."
Elias had turned away from the view to look at Bonillas as he spoke, and noticed a slight grin curl the corners of her mouth in reaction to his comment.
"There are many methods of communication. Speaking is only one of them. We are attempting to utilize the human mind's tendency to adapt as our primary tool for the development of alternate communication skills."
"You're too modest, Doctor Bonillas," Kreitzmann broke in. "I would hardly describe the success you've had here as an attempt."
"Thank you, sir."
"I'm afraid I still don't understand."
"It's really quite simple," she explained. "Years of study and research, which preceded our work, established that if the body is deprived of one sense...sight, for example...the other senses are enhanced, to varying degrees, of course."
"This is true."
"Doctor Kreitzmann theorized that if that occurred with senses, why not with abilities?"
Elias felt a slight tensing of his neck muscles as he figured out the direction of this work. He struggled to maintain his composure, as well as his cover of a disenchanted scientist who held mankind in contempt. "Fascinating." His single-word comment sounded sincere to his ears.
Kreitzmann once again broke in, "As I'm sure you've already discerned, this path of study fits in quite nicely with my overall thesis for the human race."
"I confess that I am not all that familiar with your underlying principle."
The man puffed up, obviously appreciative of the opportunity to expound. "I have always believed that so much of what we are capable of doing – in fact, so much of what we are – is conditioned by the environment."
"The Earth?"
The scientist smirked. "No, by ‘the environment,' I mean the society, the human beings around us."
"I'm not certain that I understand."
Gesturing toward the group on the other side of the glass, Kreitzmann explained, "This is a perfect example. I have no doubt that our physiology provides for several methods of communication at the point we are born. It is only because we are immediately surrounded by babbling fools, people who exclusively utilize speech as the sole means to communicate, that we opt for the path of least resistance and succumb to it ourselves."
"Of what other forms of communication do you believe we are capable?"
Triumphantly, Kreitzmann proclaimed, "Telepathy, for one."
"You're not serious?"
"Oh, but I am, Patrick. Do you realize how many times nonverbal, and by that I mean psychic, communication has been documented in the laboratory? The incidence of successful communication far exceeds the mathematical probabilities. And yet, the scientific community continues to ridicule the study of the phenomenon, casting any researcher who dares to follow this path as fringe and a nutcase!"
Elias said nothing, waiting.
"Certainly, you are familiar with the work done in the past demonstrating the criticality of exposure to certain stimuli at early ages."
"I am. The one which comes to mind is the study of musical ability."
"An excellent example. If a child is exposed to music and encouraged to play instruments at a very early age, his or her ability to truly master the instruments increases dramatically. And the lifelong ability to learn new instruments is substantially enhanced, as well."
"True."
"And the converse is true. If a child matures without the exposure to music, the part of the brain which would be dedicated to this skill is assigned to other tasks and skills."
"I've read that."
"What we are doing here is developing and encouraging the skill to communicate psychically."
Forcing an expression of neutral interest onto his face, Elias asked, "How are you doing that?"
The smug grin returning to his face, Kreitzmann explained, "We are utilizing the same learning technique for this field that we have perfected in several others. We create a perfect environment for fostering a skill and immerse the child in it from birth."
It took all of Elias' will power to stop himself from strangling the madman on the spot. Instead, maintaining his cover, he painted a smile across his face and remarked, "Immersion from birth? Amazing. And the results?"
"I'll let Dr. Bonillas answer that."
The woman, who had been standing silently beside them through the dialogue, began to speak. "Our progress has been slow, of course, due to the pace at which human children grow and mature."
"Of course."
"But we are obtaining a rather rapid increase in skill levels now that we are in Phase Two."
"Phase Two?"
Elias was astounded by the detachment displayed by Bonillas as she continued. "Phase One, where we began, was limited by the fact that we were forced to utilize a virtual reality. Although this formula has performed well in other arenas of our research, the concept of telepathy did not lend itself as well to the modality, due to the lack of definitive feedback."
"I'm not really up to speed on the virtual reality you mentioned…."
"Of course," she interrupted. "I'm sorry. We created a room where the infants were first raised."
"This room?" Elias asked, pointing at the area beyond the glass.
"No. This is the Phase Two room. In Phase One, the virtual reality which surrounded the newborns contained no spoken language."
"None? So the infants were tended to by adults who were not allowed to speak?"
"Yes, in part. They were not only barred from speaking, they were forbidden to respond to any verbal communication."
"Including crying?"
"Including crying."
"Weren't some reactions involuntary?"
"Very perceptive," Kreitzmann noted. "We noticed that the caregivers were reacting to verbal stimuli against their conscious will, so we corrected this problem by using only caregivers who were completely deaf."
This conversation was becoming more of a test of Elias' self-control than he had anticipated. Unable to say anything at the moment, he merely nodded.
Bonillas picked up where Kreitzmann had left off. "What we were able to accomplish in Phase One was an intensification of the urge within the infants to communicate. We then exploited that urge with an example which, quite frankly, was a wild guess as to how telepathy worked."
"Now, Doctor Bonillas, I think I would call it an educated guess."
Glancing over at her boss, she corrected herself, "An educated guess as to how telepathy worked. As it turned out, we were closer than we thought."
Elias found his voice. "How so?"
The Aegis Solution Page 14