📖 The Ghost of Emily - Chapter 8

In which academic war is declared and alliances are established.

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Doctor Marcus Hamlin dropped two last sprigs of steamed asparagus onto his plate, then carried his meal to a table in the corner of the dining room. He sat alone, with his back to the wall, looking out across the exquisite, and empty, buffet mess hall of the Shangri-La Hotel.

He glanced at his watch. 10am. Everyone must have had their breakfast and headed down to the labs already.

Marcus was nervous about making new friends. He had avoided conversation with anyone other than Ally Cole after Eli’s induction, and gone straight to his room on Level 4, to rest and prepare his plan for the first day’s work. His night had been restless, with questions about the labs in his mind, and concerns about just what Julius Cooper had been saying about him.

Two men entered the dining room, and Marcus looked up from his plate as he chewed. They saw him, quietly murmured to one another, then quickly grabbed their food and placed themselves on the opposite side of the room.

Skilful campaigning indeed, Julius, Marcus thought to himself.

Gradually more and more of the scientists entered the dining hall, along with an increase in hotel staff to assist with the meal. Soon every table was occupied, and no one had spoken to Marcus yet. Marcus simply continued to look at his tablet screen next to his plate, and scroll through the data he had collated in the lab that morning.

A shadow came across Marcus’s table, and he looked up. It was Professor Julius Cooper, standing over him. “Good morning, Hamlin,” he said with a grimace.

“Morning, is it morning?” Marcus said sarcastically, looking at his watch, “ah yes, so it is! And here I am having my lunch.”

Cooper glared at him, evidently not catching his drift.

“Won’t you join me, Julius?”

Cooper sat down, quickly folding his arms in a guarded posture.

Marcus stopped eating, studied the Professor’s body language, and then pushed his plate aside. “Listen, Julius. I’m aware that when we last met we got off on the wrong foot.”

“You know what the problem is with you, Hamlin?!” Cooper snapped, as if having not heard Marcus’s attempt at civility. “You think you’re better than everyone else. And worse, you think it’s better to be better. But let me tell you something, Doctor…”

Marcus removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, trying to signal that Cooper’s attempt at intimidation was only resulting in mild annoyance.

“… you’re no different to anyone here, and you deserve nothing more than the rest of us!”

Marcus took a deep breath, and tried to pick up where he left off. “That debate at the encephalology conference… we got off topic. We shouldn’t have gone down the political tangent that we did. It’s obvious that we disagree about a good many things, but I hope that we can put that aside and…”

“What, you think I would work with you? You think I would help you!?”

“Uh, I was just hoping we could be civil.”

“It’s too late for that, Hamlin. Not after you used your sleazy pseudo-logic to trick that crowd into laughing at me. You made an ass of me, and it wasn’t fair! You’re a lousy bourgeois elitist, that’s what you are!”

“Bourgeois? What the hell, Julius? What are you even saying? This isn’t soviet Russia!”

“Listen, Hamlin,” he spat, “I thought I was here to make a scientific breakthrough that could change the world for the good of all mankind. But now I know my real purpose here. And that is to beat you to it! You may be a clever young man, and your theories may even be enough to awaken a sentient computer, but I don’t trust your philosophy of selfishness and greed. If your dirty capitalist hands are on the core program of the entity, we’re all doomed.”

“A little melodramatic, don’t you think Jules?”

“You don’t get to call me that! It’s Professor Cooper to you!”

“Alright, alright,” Marcus laughed, finding the whole performance bizarre.

“You’re nothing, Hamlin. You being here is a joke! You’re out of your league. You’ll see. I’d keep my bags packed if I were you.”

“So… you’re saying that you’re better than me?” Marcus baited.

“What?!”

“Tell me Professor Cooper, is it better to be better than me? Or does that make you a bourgeois elitist too?” Marcus grinned at his own play.

“That’s it, Hamlin!” Cooper barked, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands on the table. The murmuring crowd of scientists behind him stopped chatting to watch the commotion.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen…” came a cheerful voice with a strange accent. Marcus and Cooper turned to look at the lab-coat-wearing man who had stepped forward to prevent whatever escalation Cooper had in mind. He was petite with olive skin and a dramatically receded hairline. He was balding at the crown of his head, and coarse black hairs were creeping up his shoulders and the back of his neck, poking through the collar of his coat. It was as if a piece of his scalp had rebelled, wandering off from the cold peak of his head to start a brave new colony on his back. “May I join you?” the man continued, in a warm, friendly manner.

“All yours!” grunted Cooper as he stormed off towards the buffet.

“Never mind Cooper,” the man said as he sat down, “he’s getting old, and he seems to have lost his ability to argue dispassionately. Besides, he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet.”

Marcus was trying to pick the man’s accent. It was French, but with a twist he couldn’t peg. “Êtes-vous Français?” Marcus asked, dipping into the few words he had learned in his months in Paris, and almost immediately regretting it.

“Ah! Oui, oui! Tu parle français!”

“Oh… no, not really. Just a little. I’m Marcus Hamlin.”

“Yes, I know. You’re a pariah, I hear. Well, don’t worry. I make my own judgments of people. I will know soon enough if the rumours are true, or not.” He offered his hand to Marcus. “Francois Ernst, at your service!”

Marcus gladly shook his hand, feeling that this cheerful little man may prove yet to be an ally. “Glad to meet you, Francois. Tell me, your accent… I haven’t heard one quite like it.”

Francois laughed. “No, you mightn’t have. I’m German too, you see. Raised in both countries. A bit of a European mongrel.”

“Right. That explains it. Say, listen, I’m sorry about what’s happening back home. Do you still have family there?”

Francois’s face turned serious. “Yes, all my family. The trouble has slowed down since your President allied with Vasiliev, but things still get worse. These are troubling times.”

“All the more reason to complete our job here, right?”

“Yes, I agree. That is why I am here. I’m actually in breach of my academic visa terms. When I leave here, I’ll be deported.”

“Oh?”

“I was supposed to stay at Berkeley. They have sponsored me on one of the very last visas given, before they closed the borders. When Angeli came to see me though, she gave me reason to believe that the work here could really save Europe from eating itself alive.”

“You’ve really taken a risk then.”

“Yes, Doctor Hamlin, I am all in, as they say in Vegas!”

“You really think AI is the only way to stop the terrorists?”

“These conflicts have been going on for decades. No, centuries. We have not been able to stop them on our own. Perhaps - if we do our job – she will be able to help us.”

“She?”

“Ah yes, the little one we are hoping to birth here. Oui, she will be a woman. Perhaps a beautiful one!” Francois had a playful look in his eye.

Marcus laughed. “Thinking about her body is a little like putting the cart before the horse, don’t you think?”

“We all must have our goals, Doctor Hamlin.”

“Indeed.”

Francois changed the subject. “So, how do you find the food in this strange place?”

“It’s quite amazing actually. Three meals in, and I’m impressed.”

“Three meals? So, this is not breakfast?”

“Early lunch. I’ve been in my assigned lab since 5:00am.”

Francois smiled and nodded. “Very good, mon ami. As have I. I think we shall get along just fine. May I visit your lab later on? I’d like to discuss the compatibility of our methodologies.”

“Oh? You know my work?”

“I do indeed, Doctor Hamlin. I know everyone’s work here, and I believe yours shows the most promise of all. I have some research that I think you might find interesting.”

“And what is your field?”

“Wetware.”

“Wetware?”

“Oui, mon ami.” Francois Ernst said as he stood. “I will come see you later, and we can talk more. Au revoir.”

Marcus smiled, and nodded in agreement as Francois stepped away. When Francois was halfway across the room, standing quite close to where Julius Cooper was sitting with his breakfast, he called back to Marcus. “Don’t worry about all these lazy asses! They wake up too late to change the world!”

Marcus saw Cooper look up at Francois with an expression that he suspected was disgust. Marcus laughed to himself as he thought on the name of his new friend. Francois Ernst. French-German. Frank, and earnest. Marcus enjoyed a silent but hearty chuckle as he returned to his tablet to continue reading.

After a few lines of text, he felt he needed to return to the lab. As he began to stand, he was surprised to see Ally Cole now standing in front of him.

“Oh,” she said, “I was hoping to join you, are you going?”

“Uh, no… was just going to get another coffee. Please.” He gestured for her to sit, as he did too. She smiled at him quizzically for a moment, as he grinned at her in silence.

“What about your coffee?”

“Oh – that can wait. How are you, Doctor Cole?”

“I’m not a Doctor. Just a programmer.”

“Oh, that’s odd. I read your credentials on the Daedalus database last night, it said you were doing your PhD at Stanford. Under Professor Cooper, right?”

“Right… yes, well. I quit before I finished.”

“Why?”

“Professor Cooper not reason enough?” she laughed.

“Surely not!”

“No, you’re right. He’s a pain in the ass, but I wouldn’t let a communist codger like him get in my way. I just found better things to do.”

“Like what?”

“Like what any nineteen-year-old PhD drop out is going to do! I studied philosophy.”

“I see, where did you do that?”

“In planes, on trains. Vienna, Prague, Shanghai. Wherever I found myself. The internet is a wonderful thing, Doctor Hamlin. A veritable laissez faire playground of ideas.”

Marcus could barely contain his excitement at the connection he was feeling with this woman. It was as if she were plugged into his own mind. It seemed too good to be real. He needed to find out more, to be sure she was kindred as he suspected. “Tell me, Miss Cole…”

“Please, Ally.”

“Sure – and for that matter, you can call me Marcus, too, okay?”

“Okay, Marcus.”

“Have you ever come across a philosopher called Jeremy Delacroix?”

Her smile diminished, and she looked him deeply in the eyes. He felt her probing him with her gaze, studying closely for clues as to his intent.

“I have. I’m surprised that you have, considering how… plugged in you appear to be – to academia, that is.”

“Perhaps not as plugged in as I seem.”

“Indeed, and what are your thoughts on Delacroix?”

Marcus took a deep breath, looked around him to ensure no one was listening, and leaned closer to Ally, deciding to follow Francois’s example and go all in. “I think Jeremy Delacroix is the greatest living philosopher, and possibly the greatest philosopher that ever lived. And I’d dare say that you think the same.”

She nodded, her smile returning, and she picked up her coffee and sipped. Marcus picked his coffee cup up too, and unconsciously tipped it for a sip in kind. The cup returned to the table when he remembered that it was emptied half an hour ago.

“So, Ally. How did you find yourself here?”

“Eli wanted me to assist the team. Specifically, he wanted me to work with you, Marcus.”

“Wait, what? You know Eli Wells?”

“Sort of. I’ve only met him once, nine years ago. But I’ve been working for him since then. I work at WellsTech, in Lincoln. Well, I did work there. I’ve been creating custom code languages for many of Eli’s new technologies. Half the time I don’t even know what I’m writing scripts for, but Eli gives me pretty clear instructions, and he’s always been happy with my work. Anyway, six months ago he sent Angeli to talk to me about Daedalus, and she said that there was a particularly brilliant young scientist coming in to work on a cognitive relay embedded in wetware, and that I would need to write the code for its base program. They said his name was Marcus Hamlin.”

Marcus squinted at her. “Why didn’t you mention this at the induction last night?”

“I was too busy flirting with you to bother with details.”

Marcus coughed and compulsively adjusted his table settings.

Ally laughed as she watched him squirm. “So, we should talk more, Doctor Hamlin. It appears we’re destined to be a team.”

“Indeed,” Marcus mumbled, regaining his composure. “It’s strange though. Doctor Ernst was just telling me about his wetware research, and thus far my cognitive relay is pure theory. I’ve never gotten as far as application, and certainly never worked with wetware before.”

“Then it appears that Eli is playing matchmaker, and that we are a team of three.”

“I guess so.”

“So,” she said, rising to her feet, “I will return to my lab and prepare my research for you. Shall we meet to discuss it, say…tonight? In your room? 408, right?”

Marcus was taken aback. “Return to your lab?”

“Well, I have been working since five this morning.”

“Of course you have.” Marcus grinned.

“Seven o’clock? Will you be finished in your lab by then?”

Marcus rose to his feet, still grinning at Ally. “I’ll be sure of it.”

“408?”

“408.”

As Ally Cole strode purposefully out of the dining room and towards the lobby elevator, Marcus Hamlin watched her out of sight. He saw Doctor Julius Cooper, still glaring at him from across the room, and he no longer gave a damn.