📖 The Ghost of Emily - Chapter 2
In which Doctor Marcus Hamlin lets a friend in on his secret treasure.
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A thin blade of light cut into the pitch-blackness of the vault. As Marcus Hamlin heaved the door on its enormous hinges, the blade widened and gradually flooded the room with yellow light. He smiled broadly as he looked at his completed masterpiece.
“Books?” asked Richard, appearing more than a little dumbfounded.
“Yes,” declared Marcus, oblivious to any possible reason for thinking it daft.
Marcus stepped in and switched the light on, warmly beckoning Richard to follow him. He ran his fingers along the spines of the perfectly aligned books on the shelf nearest to him. He inhaled the air deeply, taking sensual pleasure in the strong hints of unnameable spices emitted by the room when it had been closed for a long time. The books were clean, organised alphabetically into categories of topic, and were untouched by outside air, moisture or light.
“That’s… that’s a lot of books, Marcus,” mumbled Richard, as he pushed his spectacles onto his nose and stepped towards a shelf. He quickly moved across the room, surveying titles and authors’ names. “Are they all science books?”
“Uh… mostly. Not all fields are covered of course, but I’ve been working pretty hard to acquire a complete selection of definitive modern works on physics, neurology, linguistics, astronomy and cosmology, microbiology, and related fields. There’s quite a bit of philosophy, too.”
“I see. Not all that objectivism garbage you used to go on about, I hope.”
Marcus chuckled, and chose not to take the bait. “There’s some of that. But that’s not all. There’s actually a fair bit of science fiction in here, too. You’ll find all that down the back,” Marcus looked at Richard’s face, expecting – and receiving – the raised eyebrow and smirk that revealed Richard’s distaste for science fiction novels. Marcus laughed. “Well, just telling you where you’ll find them… if you ever… oh, never mind!”
Richard continued his survey and then took a step back from the shelf he had been examining. “You’d be in trouble if you had some of these books on campus, you know.”
“Well that’s half the point of it. If the Suckers want to burn the knowledge away in their anti-reality cultic rituals that’s fine, but someone has to make sure these works are protected.”
“How many times do I…?” Richard sighed and slid two fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes, “it’s pronounced Sugar, Marcus. That’s what they prefer.”
“I don’t care what they prefer, Richard. Scientists for Upholding Civic Responsibility? The acronym is S, U, C, R. Sucker!”
“They mean well.”
“My ass they mean well. Open your eyes. They've pulled almost all of the credible articles and books on IQ out of the library! Why? Because the truth about racial and gender distribution hurts their feelings?”
“Well, they would argue that race is a social construct.”
“Did you… are we really going to do this now?”
“I’m just trying to represent an opposing argument, you know, for the sake of good science.”
“You’re representing an argument you know is fallacious. They’re burning books by Aristotle, Rich!”
“It was one book burning party, and you know that it wasn’t Sugar who did that. Just some angry students wanting to make a statement. They grabbed the books from the dumpster and got a little… wild. It is college, remember? Kids’ll be kids!”
“Well, Sucker may not have been behind the burning, but they sure as hell wrote the blacklist.”
“That is true.”
“So excuse me, Richard, if I don’t really give a damn whether or not some of my books here would get me in trouble at the Boston Institute of Scientific Research.”
“Why do you say it like that, Marcus? The Institute has been good to us. Now you’re off on some quest and you talk like you hate the place.”
Marcus took a breath and checked his thoughts. Was he hateful? No. Was he angry? Yes. “There is no Institute, Rich. It’s just a bunch of buildings. What there is, is you and me, the faculty, the research fellows, the students. Any abstractions like your Institute exist only in agreement.”
“My Institute? Wow, Marcus. I don’t know what’s happened to you. You used to respect the place.”
“No, I respected you. I respect you. I used to respect the students too. But times have changed. When was the last time you saw a truly curious mind walk through those doors? Five years ago? Six?”
“Sure, the students are getting weaker. But I blame society for that. Look at the ridiculous mess this country is in. Look at that chump in the White House. I can’t believe he got re-elected.”
“I like him.”
“Ha! You would. Sometimes I think you’re just a contrarian for the sake of it, Marcus.”
“And sometimes I think you’re a solipsist, Richard.”
The two men laughed together. Marcus hoped he hadn’t hurt Richard’s feelings, though he meant what he said. He suspected Richard felt exactly the same.
“But what about the work we’re doing at the Institute, Marcus? We’re doing great work. You know that! You’ve been there, what, ten years now?”
Marcus nodded.
“A decade! Basically a third of your life. And I know that it’s not just for the paycheque. We’re trying to benefit all of mankind with knowledge, that’s the point of scientific research, right?”
“I believe I can be of greater service to mankind in this private venture," Marcus stated emotionlessly.
“Bullshit!” cried Richard. “It just doesn’t stand to reason that you can make a fortune and do good for mankind. Every dollar you make is a dollar stolen from some other poor schmuck who doesn’t have the opportunities you have.”
“I have books on Austrian Economics here too, if you want to catch up before I rebut that comment,” Marcus said with a smirk.
Richard reached under his specs again and pressed his fingers into the corners of his eyes.
“You okay, Rich?”
“I’m just tired, Marcus. You got me up at the crack of dawn, we drove all morning from Boston to here. You bring me into this basement, and I don’t know what to expect behind that door. But… books? How many are here anyway?”
“About ten thousand. I didn’t get a chance to index the last deposit though, I wasn’t here when they were delivered. The clerk put them in for me. It could be closer to twelve now.”
“Most of them look new. How did you afford this?”
Marcus impulsively glanced at the door. From upstairs he could hear the muted rumble of the limousine engine waiting for them.
“Ah…” Richard grinned, “your benefactor? Offer you an advance, did he?”
“A donation, actually. And I don’t know that it’s a he.”
“Really, Marcus, this is insane. You’re taking large cheques from employers you haven’t met, for a job that hasn’t been disclosed to you! You’re spending all your money on books in a vault, in New York City of all places,” Richard paused his minor tirade to enquire, “why New York, incidentally?”
“New York is home.”
Richard squinted, unsatisfied with the answer, but went on. “You’ve resigned from your tenured position at one of the country’s most prestigious science universities, and you’re dragging me across the country in a limousine that someone else is paying for! Marcus, what the hell is going on?”
Marcus stepped into the anteroom of the vault, walked past several other sealed vault doors, and pulled the main entrance shut. The rumble of the limousine upstairs was silenced. He turned back to Richard and spoke softly. “Rich, this is my chance to do something truly great. Do you remember my genetic data streams hypothesis?”
“Yes, of course. You wanted to examine the application of genetic data streams to a synthetic cognitive relay in order to produce an adaptive processing infrastructure…”
“Borrowing from the human mind to create an inhuman, but perhaps no-less-conscious mind! Precisely.”
“So this new job of yours is in AI development?”
“Well, they haven’t said it so plainly. But do you remember why the board rejected my hypothesis for my PhD?”
“I remember well. I am your supervisor, you know.”
“They said too dangerous, too soon,” Marcus emphasised with disdain.
“Well, not exactly verbatim, but that’s the drift of it. But what makes you think you’ll get to explore your ideas in this new job?”
“This is what.” Marcus reached into his tweed coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. He handed it to Richard.
“Dear Marcus,” Richard read aloud, “I’ve been watching your work for some time now, and I know they aren’t letting you go for gold. I have something underway that I think you would be of great benefit to, and of course I would make it of great benefit to you.
“I want you to know that your ideas may be ‘too dangerous and too soon’ to those who write your paycheque currently, but to me and to the Daedalus Project, they are invaluable and their time is NOW.
“I will send my recruitment director to visit you and explain a bit further, but for now please find attached a cheque for $15,000 dollars. This is not advance on wages, and it comes with no strings attached. This is my personal donation to your great work. I hope you will become part of the team I am putting together and that we can unleash your abilities, but - even if not - I want you to spend this money on whatever YOU see as the best investment in the future of humanity - not what your colleagues see. Yours sincerely, E.”
Marcus watched Richard, expectantly. After a prolonged silence, Richard finally handed the paper back, and pulled his glasses off to wipe their lenses on his sleeve. “Fifteen thousand dollars?! As a gift? Who the hell is this person?”
“I don’t know. But the cheque didn’t bounce.”
“What did you spend it… oh.” Richard looked around at the books, “the latest deposit, eh?”
Marcus nodded with a smile.
“Well, if they can give you gifts like that, they better be paying you damn well to give up your tenure.”
“They will be.”
“Marcus, don’t tell me you’ve signed a contract already, before you’ve even met the guy, or… lady, or whatever.”
“I have signed a contract. But I did meet the recruitment director for the Daedalus Project. She came to see me at my office on campus.”
“And?”
“And she was charming. English. Very posh accent and clothing. She told me what she could, and laid out the offer.”
“Which was?”
Marcus laughed to try to conceal his discomfort with being secretive. “I’m not really at liberty to say.”
Richard scoffed, evidently offended, then he replaced his specs on his nose and continued surveying the books.
Marcus thought back to the day Angeli arrived at his office with the partially elucidated offer from the Daedalus Project. He had so many questions to ask her, but without hesitation she had told him, in her impeccable received pronunciation:
“There are no technical questions that I can answer for you right now, Doctor Hamlin. What I can tell you is this: our CEO, the person who wrote you the letter, has personally selected only seventy-five scientific minds from the world over for a position in the Daedalus research labs.
“The facility is remote, if you accept the job you will live on site. You will not be able to leave except for one sabbatical weekend every six months, if you so choose.
“The funding of your research shall be virtually unlimited. Once you’re in the team, you will have complete autonomy and access to the rest of the team. No one is in charge of research, everyone is free to explore their own avenues, or work together. Competition within the team is encouraged. The only guideline is the mandate of your position.”
“And what would my position be?” Marcus interrupted.
“That I cannot tell you. But suffice to say, no one will see your position as too dangerous or too soon," she replied, with a knowing gaze.
Marcus knew what this meant, so he said nothing, not wanting to create any opportunity for this woman to change her mind and rescind the job offer.
“For the times between your research, you will have the most comfortable housing, as well as entertainment, the best food available anywhere, and plenty of like-minded scientists with whom to socialise, as well as the friendly staff of the hotel who have already made the same commitment to the project.
“The grounds are extensive, peaceful and beautiful. I cannot tell you where they are. You will not be able to find them, or leave without supervision. It is a secret place. When you are there, and you find out the nature of the work you are undertaking, you will understand why it must be so secretive.”
Marcus already knew the nature of the work, and he understood its secrecy. What he did not understand was how he was so fortunate that such a benefactor had appeared to save him from the miserable vacuousness of the academic realm which had been engulfing him.
“You will choose your own work hours. You’ve been selected because of your intelligence, your contribution to science, and your character. Your employer already knows that you are not the kind of employee who needs supervision. You will work when you can be productive, you will rest when you cannot.
“The salary will be fifty-thousand dollars a month, but this will not be accessible to you until the project is complete, or you decide to leave the Daedalus Project, in which case your account will be handed to you immediately in the securest form of your choosing. And of course all your expenses will be paid and your needs fulfilled while you stay with us.”
The vast sum of money offered was too much for Marcus to compute in the sheer excitement of processing this opportunity. Fifty-thousand a year, Marcus thought to himself, is meagre, but it is fair given the incredible conditions on offer, and that it would be in addition to the unlimited research funding. In his mind he had already agreed. “How many months do you expect the project to run for?”
“Years, Doctor Hamlin. We expect the project to take years. The fewer the better, but it is no small undertaking, even with the expediency of the best scientific team on Earth and the isolation from public opinion.”
This woman was making a lot of sense to Marcus. She and the mystery employer she represented seemed to understand his motivations fully. Either they really had been watching him closely, or, for the first time, he was not alone in the world.
“I would be giving up my tenure, and my position would likely be filled by the time I return, but I suppose if I am there two years, one hundred thousand dollars or more would see me survive for a time until I can find a new position. Perhaps I’ll write a book!” he considered, aloud.
Angeli chuckled. “Doctor Hamlin, I said the salary is accrued monthly. Fifty thousand dollars a month.”
Marcus’s mouth fell open slightly.
“If the project is completed in two years, you will come home with more than one million dollars in the bank. We predict no less than five years of research though, Doctor Hamlin, and after that, there will likely be a role for you in the application of your research. Perhaps another two years. It is hard to say as the work is subject to some factors...” she paused to consider her words, “...beyond our control.”
Marcus sat silently for a long time, his mind overflowing with questions that he knew would have to wait. “I have just one question then,” he prefaced, knowing that he would have to choose his question carefully if he wished to receive an answer now. “If the project reaches its intended outcome, who will be the beneficiary of its success?” He enunciated the words with great care, leaning forward in his chair towards her.
Angeli leaned forward in kind, and replied. “Everyone.”
Marcus’s severe expression softened, and a smile betrayed his lips. He nodded in full comprehension. He offered a hand to her, she took it, and their hands rose and fell together in tempo with Marcus's racing heart.
The next day, a courier had arrived with contracts and non-disclosure agreements for Marcus to sign. He read them and understood them as much as one could in their legalistic non-specificity. Once the courier left with the signed papers, Marcus spent the rest of the next several days spending the sum of fifteen thousand dollars on finishing his growing collection of books. Five days straight shopping online for books located in New York City and arranging for delivery to his safe.
Today was the day that Marcus would be flown to Lincoln to begin his new job. He had requested to fly from New York City and Angeli seemed completely unruffled by the last minute change of plans. Marcus had always intended to keep his book vault a secret, but on the eve of his leaving Boston, he felt a strong urge to include his colleague, as some form of security. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he was afraid of the great unknown future he was leaping into.
“So why books, Marcus?” Richard asked, breaking the long silence as he continued to study the selections Marcus had organised so meticulously.
“It’s my investment in the future.”
“Why not government bonds like everyone else is doing?”
“Ha! I refer you back to the Economics section over… there,” he punctuated with a pointed finger, “under M, for von Mises.”
“Yeah, yeah… I just mean… why not something more conventional with your life savings? Gold, or crypto, or something.”
“Yeah, there’s been quite the gold rush lately. You must have heard the rumours - some of the less popular economists are saying that financial end-times are coming. I read that Bronstein is trying to get gold banned!”
“Gold? Banned!? That’s mad. That will never get past that President of yours,” Richard scoffed.
“You’re right, it is mad. And he’s your President too, even if you didn’t vote for him.”
Richard sniffed, as if to dispel a bad taste in his mouth.
“Besides, Rich. Knowledge is my gold.”
“But the Library of Congress would have all of this.”
“And how long do you think until the Suckers grow up and run Congress? How long until a Sucker is in the White House? If you don’t understand by now, Richard, that I do not trust the government to protect our interests, then you will probably never understand me.”
Richard sighed, and raised his palms in gentle acquiescence. “Alright, alright, buddy. Calm down. I do understand. And I get it. You’re worried that doomsday is coming, and you’re doing your bit to protect the knowledge that we hold so dear, right?”
Marcus smiled. He did get it. “Precisely.”
“Okay, so why am I here?”
Marcus’s smile broadened, and he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small electronic key. It was identical to the one hanging on a lanyard around his neck. He stepped forward and handed it to Richard. “Because I want you to be my custodian.”
“Me?”
“Sure, Rich. You’re the only friend I have. And besides… I may not be back for a while. Who knows what will happen out here. If… if I’m right, if things get out of hand…” Marcus paused solemnly, “keep it safe, would you?”
Richard smiled, and accepted the key.
Through the closed main door, they heard a dull toot from the limousine. Marcus thrust his hand into the air, jerking the sleeve of his tweed coat back and exposing his gold watch.
It was almost nine.
“Your grandfather’s watch, right?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’ve only seen you wear it for awards or graduations.”
Marcus looked up at Richard, sheepishly.
“You’re serious about this. You’re not coming back, are you Marcus?”
“I’ll be back, Richard. I just have no idea when.”
“You sure you don’t want to leave the watch in here? You know, in case Bronstein gets her gold embargo through?”
Marcus laughed. “Like you said, Rich, she’ll have to get through the President first. The watch stays with me. Come on man, my flight is waiting. The driver will take you home to Boston,” he said, stepping forward and putting his arm over his friend’s shoulder. He squeezed Richard a little closer than he ever had before. Their friendship had always been an intellectual one, but in this moment Marcus really wanted to hold onto something, or someone. He wanted an anchor in the real world, as he drifted blindly into the new world he had been promised.
The two men stepped out of the vault. Marcus flicked off the lights, and locked the door behind them.
Thanks for reading Chapter 2 - the whole book is coming (or might already be here, depending on when you read) so be sure to subscribe to be told when new chapters are posted.