Chapter 3
The next day as I drove to work, using my phone’s voice recognition commands I said, “Sancy, call Dean Winchell” and when he was on the phone I asked him if he knew who on campus knew the most about Autism. “Well, it depends on what you mean by that. Are you talking about clinical specifics of the disorder?”
“No, I’m looking for someone who is an expert on dealing with autistic people, communicating with them. And maybe understanding them.” I answered. “I want to learn to understand their capabilities better. I found a post doc at Cal Tech who has done remarkable research that could be key to what we’re trying to do but I don’t have the foggiest idea about how to access his obvious talent. To all appearances, he is, well, out of it. He’s completely isolated from the world around him.”
“And how did he get through school and get a PhD?” Dean Winchell asked.
“He never really went to school. Cal Tech gave him his advanced degree on the basis of his research. It’s totally original and absolutely ground breaking.”
Dean Mitchell laughed and said, “That sounds like Cal Tech. They’re pretty tolerant of weirdness. Go see Jean Gilbert over in the Psych department. She recently submitted her thesis on enhanced perception in savant syndrome. She might be able to help.”
I found her name and number in the campus directory and called immediately. “Dr. Gilbert?” I asked when she answered the phone.
“Almost. I’m Jean Gilbert, hopefully soon to be Dr. Gilbert but please, call me Jean. How can I help you?”
“To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure. I am trying to find some way to communicate with an autistic savant in Pasadena and I don’t even know how to start. He’s a post doc at CalTech.”
“You must be talking about Jay Moore,” Jean said. “He was one of the savants I wrote about in my thesis. He’s a pretty unique individual.”
“In what way?” I asked.
“Over half the savants have what’s called Autism Spectrum Disorder. They often have profound and really quite prodigious capabilities that are far in excess of what would be considered to be normal. But he is one of the few whose extraordinary skills are in science. Most savants have freakish talents in music or math and they often display great memory skills or calculating abilities. But Jay Moore is the only savant I ever came across that exhibited the analytical or cognitive skill to construct truly original research. Quite amazing, actually.”
“OK, now I know we need to talk. When can I come see you?” I asked.
“Oh, God I’m buried in work trying to get all my paperwork finished. Maybe towards the end of next week?”
“I can’t wait til next week,” I answered. “You’ve got to eat. Why don’t I buy you dinner, anyplace you like.”
“Anyplace? I absolutely crave sushi but unfortunately on a TA’s salary I can’t really afford it.”
“Perfect, I know a great Nobu style sushi place not far from campus. It’s called Katsu and is supposed to be great.”
“Are you kidding?” Jean exclaimed. “That’s one of the priciest restaurants in the Bay area. You sure you can afford it?”
“I’m on an expense account. Don’t worry about it. Tonight at 8?”
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
“You’ll find me sitting at the sushi bar wearing a Stanford t-shirt. You know where it’s located? In Los Gatos?”
“I’ll find it. See you at 8.”
I arrived a half hour early to ensure we got the end of the bar where I figured it would be a bit quieter. I ordered a carafe of sake and started reading Jean’s doctoral thesis which I had downloaded after we spoke on the phone. I was just getting into the part where she wrote about Jay Moore at CalTech when she spoke to me from over my shoulder. “I see you’ve found some reading material. Hardly a thriller,” she said in a friendly voice.
I turned and was confronted by an attractive woman, about five foot seven with wavy red hair and a scattering of freckles that covered her cheeks and nose. “Oh, I don’t know about that. It’s interesting to me given my newfound interest in autistic savants.” I extended my hand and said, “I’m Colin Anderson, now with the Center for Advanced Computing and Bioscience Research.”
“I know. I did a little research of my own this afternoon,” she answered while giving me a firm handshake. “And I must admit, I am a bit intrigued with what I found.”
“And what did you find?” I replied in as friendly a manner as I could.
“I read about your research. Very compelling stuff. And of course I saw you had joined the CAC. What is that place anyway? Everyone I talked to said it was tucked away in a basement with security that rival’s a CIA secure site.”
“Yea, I was a bit surprised by that myself.”
“Is it true that the whole shebang is funded by Robert Fincher? No wonder you can afford this place.”
“Yep, he’s very involved in our project.”
“And your project is?” she asked.
“We’re trying to develop a new paradigm for artificial limbs. I believe we can create a prosthesis that can respond to direct mental control.” I held out my artificial arm and said, “I have a pretty personal stake in this. A shark took my arm when I was sixteen and I’ve been struggling with this mechanical arm ever since. It just doesn’t work very well.”
Jean looked a bit green as she said, “A shark? How did that happen?”
“I was surfing and I guess that great white mistook my arm for a seal’s flipper. One bite and my life was changed forever.”
“I’m sorry,” Jean said.
“Don’t be. If anything that was a very positive force in my life. It gave me direction and led me to my life’s work. All in all, not a bad trade.”
Jean smiled and said, “I bet that ended your surfing days!”
“No, not at all. I still get in the water three or four mornings a week. Do you surf?”
“No. I’ve always wanted to learn but somehow I never found the time.”
“If this works out, maybe I can teach you.”
She smiled and said “I’d like that” just as the sushi chef placed a flat wooden plate down in front of us. He added some wasabi and ginger and asked what we would like.
“Anything you don’t like?” I asked Jean.
“Not that I’ve found yet.”
I looked at the immaculate chef and said, “I understand this is an extraordinary sushi bar. We are in your hands.”
He bowed slightly and said, “I will do my best to please you. Dr. Fincher called this afternoon and asked that I take very good care of you.”
“Fincher called?” I asked, amazed that he would have even known we were coming here. I had called earlier in the afternoon and spoke to his assistant just to make sure that his largesse with my expense account covered very expensive Japanese restaurants.
“Yes,” the chef replied. Dr. Fincher is a very good customer. My name is Minori Katsuko but my friends call me Kats,” he said bowing again. “And please, allow me to bring you a very special sake we save for our best customers.
“Well Kats, I certainly want to be counted as one of your friends. My name is Colin and this is Jean,” I said as Jean and I both stood to shake his hand.
“Beautiful women are always welcome,” Kats said with a smile as he poured sake into two crystal glasses. Flecks of gold were floating in the clear liquid, flashing as they caught the light from the low voltage lighting in the ceiling. “The sake is for your pleasure and the gold will bring you luck in all your endeavors.”
Jean looked at me as we resumed our seats and said, “Ok, I’m impressed. You’ve got Fincher making your dinner reservations. Why don’t you tell me what you want from me?”
“Jay Moore has done some remarkable research in an area that is key to the critical path for my project’s success. I am trying to create a direct connection between the mind and a mechanical device and I think he can solve a critical problem to that process. He’s creating artificial neurons in a
manner that I think could give me a direct link between man and machine.”
“OK, I get that part. But how can you work with him? He is almost totally dysfunctional. Look, I have a lot of experience dealing with autistic children and adults. My younger brother is autistic. He’s not quite as asocial as Moore is but he’s close. And I can’t imagine him working as part of a development team.”
“Can you communicate with your brother?” I asked.
“Sure. I’ve worked with him since he was born. Kelly has a brilliant mind. He is an astonishing jazz musician and he can play any instrument within minutes of picking it up. He’s the reason I was drawn into research into autism.”
“Well, I want you to help me to communicate with Jay Moore. I want to find a way to bring him into my research project.”
“You’re kidding me,” Jean said. “You’ve seen the way that he lives. You’ve seen his lab. How can that possibly meld with a research project in the CAC facilities? You can’t really imagine how difficult it would be for you to deal with him.”
“I understand that. The real question is, can you imagine how difficult it would be?”
“Well, yes, I suppose so,” Jean replied. “But I’m about to receive my doctorate. I need to be looking for a faculty position somewhere. I don’t have time to be running over here when you need someone to explain what Moore’s doing.”
“Believe me I know that. If you think you can make it work, I’m prepared to offer you a full time position at CAC. What have you been making as a teaching assistant? $1500 a month?”
“Yea, about that, but…”
“I’ll pay you $100,000 a year to continue your research at CAC. All you have to do is ride herd on Jay Moore. I’ll give you a six month contract and a guarantee of a tenure track position if you can make it work with Moore. If you can’t, you’ll have some money in your pocket and a stellar recommendation from CAC.”
Jean shook her head and said, “I really think you are serious. How would we do this? You think Moore will leave CalTech?”
“I’ve talked with his director. He thinks it’s worth a try. I suggested we duplicate his current lab and living quarters at our facility. Duplicate it in every way. Hell we can move his books and empty pizza boxes if that’s what it takes. What do you say?”
Jean shrugged and said, “What can I say? Offers like this don’t come along every day. I’m not at all sure I can make it work but I’m willing to try. You think he’ll be willing to come?”
“I think we should both go down there and see if you can convince him this is a good idea.”
“Alright, I’m in,” Jean said as she picked up a morsel of thinly cut hamachi, delicately draped over an oblong mound of delicately seasoned rice. “Wow, this is good!” she exclaimed as she swallowed the fish. “I can’t wait to see what’s next.” What followed was as great a feast for the eyes as it was for the palette. Each dish Kats brought to us was a tiny piece of perfection. Incredibly fresh fish sliced razor thin and set on a small porcelain plate as if it was a miniature work of art. Oysters were painted with a divine sauce and sprinkled with an exotic mixture of seeds and Japanese herbs. Spicy tuna was rolled in nori, then perfectly seasoned rice and covered with slices of ripe avocado and sesame seeds. Sea Urchins were placed in a small nori basket and the color and texture of the uni were beautifully set off by a garnish of seaweed with dots of several kinds of roe and fans of thinly sliced cucumber. With the gold flakes flashing in our sake glasses and the artful presentation of the meal, it was as if we were dining in a dream that was stunning in its very perfection. As we finished our desert of green tea ice cream served on a wafer of an airy pastry, Jean told me, “I think this is the best meal I ever ate.” And I must say, I agreed with her.
By the time we finished our meal, Jean had convinced me that she should go down to CalTech by herself. “Look, Colin,” she said, “it’s going to be hard enough for me to deal with him one on one. Two of us might make him feel like we’re ganging up on him.”
Two days later I got a call from Jean. “OK, I convinced him to come and work for you. But you have to figure out how to get him up there. He doesn’t like being in cars for more than a half hour or so and he won’t fly on a commercial airline. He doesn’t like being around more than a couple of people at a time.”
“I think I can solve that one. Fincher has a Gulfstream. I’m sure he will send it down to pick you up. Anything else?”
“Yea, I took your idea and Moore bought it. I promised him his new lab would look just like the old lab with every book and piece of paper in exactly the same space. So how do we accomplish that?”
I thought for a minute and replied, “Take pictures of everything. Close-ups and wide angle shots. Everything we need as a visual reference. Find an architectural student to take measurements and draw up a plan of his space. And do it all fast. Offer them whatever it takes to get it done today. I’ll find a mover to take care of packing everything up and getting it here to me right away. Email me the plan as soon as you have it and I’ll have a crew here start constructing a space that matches it in every particular. But no matter what, it’s going to take a couple of days to get it all done. You have any idea what to do with him for a couple of days?”
“Didn’t you say Fincher has a yacht? Moore like sharks. He has pictures all over his walls of sharks. Maybe we could take him out to the Farrallon Islands to see the great whites?”
“OK, if you think that will work. I’ll call Fincher and see if I can set this all up with him. I hope this is worth it.”
Jean laughed and said, “So do I. But I did get him to talk to me. That’s a start.”
“Yes it is. It’s a good start. I’ll call you back to confirm these arrangements. Good work, Jean.”
When I called Fincher to get this all approved he assured me that all I asked would be no problem. “Dr. Fincher, something tells me this about more than an approved prosthesis. You told me I was working on research that was important to you. Would you mind elaborating a bit?”
“Please Colin, call me Bob. And I agree, it’s time we discussed the bigger picture. I am impressed with your ability to cut through most obstructions and get the job done. And hiring this Cal Tech guy certainly shows me you are willing to use unorthodox methods in the process. We’re going to take Dr. Moore out to the Farralons. Why don’t you and I join Jean and Dr. Moore for the journey? We can leave them to their discussions and you and I can explore the future of our endeavor. Sound good? I understand the Great Whites are there in pretty good numbers right now. I looked at a website that tracks the sharks and displays their locations in real time. Marinecsi.com I think it’s called. We should be able to see some pretty big sharks while we’re there. I’ll let you know what time to meet me. Or better yet, why don’t we drive down to the marina together? I’ll have my driver pick you up on campus.”
“Tell me you’ve found something out about our mysterious Dr. Anderson’s research project,” Qiang said as he picked up his phone.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” Jun replied. “I followed Anderson to a sushi restaurant and managed to sit near him and his guest as they dined. Her name was Jean Gilbert and Anderson offered her a job.”
“Is she an AI specialist?” Qiang asked.
“No, she is a post doc in the psychology department.”
“What does Anderson want with a psychologist?”
“It appears to tie into his trip to Cal Tech. He wants her to manage a Dr. Jay Moore who is a researcher at Cal Tech. I don’t quite get it but from what I overheard it appears that Dr. Moore is autistic. I checked his background and he has published some important papers in material science including Molecular Self Assembly and Nanochemistry: a Strategy for the Synthesis of Neurons.”
“Interesting,” Qiang mused. “I suggest you see what you can find out from Miss Gilbert. Perhaps she won’t have the same level of security surrounding her.”
“I had the same thought and I’m already working on it
.” Jun looked at his phone as his call abruptly ended. He never quite got used to Qiang’s lack of telephone etiquette.
Chapter 4
On Friday, Fincher’s driver picked Jean and Jay Moore up at Mineda airport in San Jose and drove them to Pelican Point Yacht Harbor in Sausalito. He then returned to Palo Alto and picked Bob and I up and drove us in to the boat. “I didn’t want Moore to feel uptight in the car,” Fincher explained. “I understand he has established a rapport with Miss Gilbert.”
“I wonder how he likes the boat,” I said. “Jean told me he’s never been on a boat before. She hasn’t called so I guess everything is OK. This whole thing is a bit strange.”
Bob looked at me and replied “I read Dr. Moore’s thesis. Quite brilliant work. If he can deliver an artificial neuron that will connect nerve tissue directly to our electronics, he’ll be worth all the trouble.”
We arrived at the dock at noon and the Chris Craft launch was waiting for our arrival, skippered by the same tanned athletic guy who had picked me up the first time I was on the boat. He was dressed in what I now knew was the uniform of the Napenthe crew, khaki short and a yellow open necked Polo shirt. “Welcome aboard Dr. Fincher, Dr. Anderson. You other guests are already on board.”
“Thanks Louis. Everything all right?” Fincher inquired.
“Yes sir. The young gentleman seems to be enamored with anything mechanical. He’s tried every winch, and pushed just about every button on the bridge that the Captain would let him. We had a dead monitor on the radar system and he had it fixed in less than fifteen minutes. Funny, Captain said that those monitors were considered disposable. When one breaks, it usually just gets replaced. Couldn’t tell that to Jay though. He just fixed it. He’s a bit odd but I like him. Not sure why, but I like him.”
When we pulled up to the starboard side of the yacht, the side hatch opened and we stepped onto the platform. I immediately saw Jay Moore with his head inside the upraised cowling of a jet ski. He was dressed in the crew uniform. “I hope it’s all right,” Jean said. “He said he wanted to fit in so I asked the steward for some extra clothes. He seems to like them.”
Evolution 2.0: The Singularity is Here Page 3