Collective Mind (25 page)

Isaac
said goodbye to Bikie until the evening and set out for a stroll. He called
Michelle’s number and they arranged to get together. Isaac was eager to boast
to Michelle about what they had achieved.

On
the day of Professor Link’s arrival, Isaac prepared the guest room next to his
own and checked if it had everything the professor might need to be
comfortable.

“I
don’t understand why you haven’t put the beds together,” said Bikie, glancing
into the room Isaac was getting ready for Link.

“Bikie,
why don’t you shut up, stop making vulgar little jokes and help…”

“Oh
wow, what were you thinking, my naughty friend? I meant that Link will arrive
with his Japanese sakura, which he will obviously want to plant somewhere and
then chop up”

“Well,
you’re wrong there. It’s not certain Link will come with Yoshi, he didn’t say
anything about that.”

“Uh-huh,
so he didn’t submit a formal note then?”

“So
what do we do?”

“We’ll
figure it out. By the way, I never understood who she is to Link. Why didn’t we
see her around? What is there to hide? I haven’t noticed any amorous passion
when he mentioned her.”

“Yes,
I thought it all sounded kind of cold too. So be prepared to move in with me,
the Japanese girl might just demand a separate bedroom.”

“Big
deal. At least, we’ll find out what the score is with Link and her.”

To
the disappointment of the two friends, who hoped to finally get the answer to
the mystery of Link’s relationship with Yoshi, the professor arrived without
her but with his red-bearded assistant. Before Isaac could even try to think of
the best way to accommodate them in the guest premises, Link tramped straight
across the lawn and disappeared through the glass doors of the main building.

The
professor settled into Wolanski’s master bedroom and sent his assistant to the
guest room. Isaac tried to protest, saying that Peter, the owner of the house,
had asked them not to occupy his room, but the professor ignored these
comments.

“Just
say you’re upset because the idea didn’t occur to you first. When Peter comes,
I’ll settle everything with him if necessary,” said Link.

“Professor,
it’s an intrusion into his personal space!”

“Isaac,
I’m an old man, I cannot sleep in a room with a bad view. I would be tossing
and turning all night long, thinking about how I could have settled in more
comfortably. It is bad for my nervous system. Why don’t you just find me a set
of fresh towels?”

“We
are pretending to be servants or some sort. Taking the master bedroom will blow
our cover.”

“Well,
so keep playing servants. I’d rather play the master. You have to have someone
to serve, after all, don’t you?” the professor chuckled.

It
was pointless to argue. Like all geniuses, the professor was slightly off his
rocker. Isaac would have to clear everything up with Peter later. Hopefully, he
would not descend on them out of the blue in his typical manner. In any case,
it was good that Isaac hadn’t told Peter about the professor moving in with
them.

For
Isaac, security was the top priority but the professor easily ignored things as
long as they didn’t bother him personally. He took quick decisions and
generally did not change his mind. But then, his fast judgments have not let
him down so far, so Isaac resigned himself to letting the professor do what he
wanted. “Sorry, Peter, every contract comes with overheads,” he thought.

That
evening they had supper by the pool and talked. Link, having finally escaped
from the bounds of Sardinia, was on a high, enjoying the new place, and even
recited poetry. Bikie, picking up on the professor’s inspiration, hummed and
whistled another of his rock composition about women.

“I’ve
never seen you in my nightmares,

So
could not make you out that day.

Your
fat paw pinned me down real hard

So
I could never get away.

You
captured me by hitting hard

Just
like a boot, between the eyes,

But
I shall make it to my Harley

And
open up the throttle wide…”

 “How’s
your sister?” the professor asked Isaac.

“It’s
not exactly clear. She seems stable, but I’m worried, of course.”

“And
what does the doctor say?”

“He
says it’s a cyst in her head and they have to operate.”

Bikie,
an expert in changing grim subjects, immediately intervened.

“Link,
please explain on the advanced level what this process for pumping back
creativity is.”

“All
right. Do you know the principle behind collecting orange energy? The basis of
the technology is a special kind of magnet. A human being also generates a
magnetic field, which retains OE, to prevent it from dissipating away.

Within
the computer, there is а supping magnet, whose field is much more powerful than
that of a human. Essentially, the following effect occurs: imagine two magnets,
one much stronger than the other, the more powerful magnet attracts all the
iron filings on the table or, in our case, energy. If you turn it off, the
filings will instantly stick back to the other magnet. In our case, it will
return to the human energy field.

The
trick is that the big magnet is universal, attracting all energy while the
human magnet is specific, so the energy will revert to the source from which it
had been taken.”

“Heavy!
Brilliant!” Bikie summed up.

“What’s
brilliant?”

“Not
the system for collecting the energy. The presentation is brilliant, the
apotheosis of metaphor!”

“Then
I’ll continue with my thought.” The professor wasn’t flattered at all by
Bikie’s clumsy compliment, in fact, he seemed rather annoyed at having been
interrupted. “A human being is a rather weak, feeble magnet. If we want to
return your friend’s creativity, then we need to reduce to a minimum the
distance between him and his orange energy and amplify his field or switch off
the main magnet. Or best of all, do both. But don’t you young people worry
about that, I think this can all be done. In your situation, I’d be concerned
about something quite different.”

“What?”

“What’s
that the name of your Veggie friend….Pascal? Have you already thought of how to
persuade him to cooperate with our plan? Persuade him, deliver him here, and
attach the equipment, and, of course, we would need to take him to Paris, as
close as possible to the Paris OE storage server. We don’t need to go inside,
but we will have to get very close. Let’s suppose I can put together an
amplifier for his field, I still won’t be able to switch off the magnet in a
branch of UNICOMA.”

“Persuade
Pascal? I don’t know, Professor,” Isaac said uncertainly. “I’ll try it when the
time comes.”

“Well,
do try it,” Link smiled. “There are no other options.”

Several
days went by. The professor was at his ease in the villa, working on his
device, often leaving the room only in the evening.

Isaac
agreed to another meeting with his patent clerk, Serge Morel.

“I
see you went on a holiday? Looking good, so refreshed! Have you been on the
beach?” The patents manager was trying to be as endearing to Isaac as he could.

“No,
Serge, I’ve just been in the south of Italy, there’s more sun there than shade.
Let’s get down to business if you don’t mind,” Isaac replied.

“Yes,
yes, of course,” Morel agreed fussily. ”The essence of my proposal is this: it’s
always hard to sell your own product, work, or invention. It is your personal
creation, so you may feel embarrassed to praise it or even exaggerate slightly.
But a good agent is always worth his commission because he squeezes better
terms out of the buyer.”

“And
what is your commission?”

“I
was going to suggest ten perfcent. If that’s too much, I could actually accept
seven.”

“And
you have experience with successful deals?” It was the first time Isaac had
ever conducted a business negotiation of this kind, and in the role of the
hirer too. It felt good.

“I
haven’t worked as an agent before,” Serge replied, “but I have imagined myself
in that role many times. I’m sure I can do it quite well. You can trust me,
that is important too. We’ve known each other for a long time, and while you
look for another candidate and come to grips with all the procedures, you’ll
lose a lot of time.”

“And
how soon, do you think until we receive the first payment?”

“In
less than a year!” Serge replied triumphantly. “I’ll try my very hardest to get
it done in seven or eight months.”

“A
year? Seven or eight months?” Isaac exclaimed, dumbfounded. He was expecting
money might start coming in a week or so!

“Within
seven months for sure!” said the agent, frightened by the reaction

Isaac
suddenly felt unwell. His head was spinning and the earth started shifting
under his feet. He felt as if he were about to pass out. He planned to pay for
Vicky’s surgery with this money and he was not expecting it to take so long.

“Are
you ok? Have a drink of water. It’s so hot in here!” The agent ran to bring a
glass of water.

“Yes,
I’m fine,” Isaac’s voice suddenly went hoarse. “Is there any way to get the
money sooner? I need it in two or three weeks, a month at most.”

“Believe
me, seven months is already quite fast. To meet that deadline, I’d be working
round the clock.”

“I
have a month at the most to pay for an operation for my sister,” said Isaac,
thinking out loud now. “I accept,” he added hastily. “Where do I sign so we can
start immediately?”

Serge
was absolutely delighted and he shook Isaac’s flabby hand for a long time,
trying to add something but Isaac was in no mood to listen.

It
soon turned out that Isaac didn’t even have a month. He got a call from the
hospital and the doctor wanted to discuss things with him in person. The news
wasn’t good.  Vicky had developed complications. Despite the medications, her
body started adapting to the prolonged coma, and these changes threatened to
affect vital organs and could affect irreversible damage. The surgery had to be
performed within the next few days.

Isaac
was desperate. No sooner had his life come together than it started falling
apart again. The doctor said a week at the most and hinted that Vicky had a
rather high OE level. Isaac didn’t even want to hear about that and he
interrupted the doctor in mid-sentence.

But
where could he get the money like that at such short notice?

First
of all, Isaac phoned Wolanski. Peter listened attentively, just mumbling
something in response. He was very sorry, but everything he could put together
from all available sources would barely cover a half of what was needed. He
would have been glad to pay it all but most of his money was still beyond his
reach.

Isaac
called the hospital and offered to pay half. They refused, they wanted the
whole amount.

Everything
had been going so well, and now this. Isaac feverishly ran through all possible
options. He had absolutely nothing to sell and Bikie didn’t have any money
either. Was he really too late now, had everything been in vain? Going back to
get downloaded sounded totally crazy. In theory, Link or Michelle could have
that kind of money. Of course, Michelle Blanche was very rich but their
relationship was still far short of allowing him to ask her for a loan as big as
that.

Isaac
dashed back home and knocked on the professor’s door. Link was there, as
always, working on his device.

“May
I come in?”

“Yes,
just a moment and I’ll open up. Wait downstairs for a couple of minutes and
I’ll join you straight away.”

The
professor soon appeared in the sitting room.

“What
happened, Isaac? You look terrible. Pale as a ghost.”

“It’s
Vicky. She needs the surgery urgently. I have a week at the most, and only half
the money.”

“And
how much more do you need?”

Isaac
told him, and the professor whistled.

“I’m
afraid I don’t have that kind of money. I’m only a fugitive scientist who
didn’t get a cent for his most important invention.”

“Tell
me, what do you still need to finish assembling the input device?” A desperate
idea was taking shape in Isaac’s head.

“Actually,
it’s ready. The problem is that there is no one to test it upon.”

“What
if I get Pascal to you quickly and we can perform the experiment on him? Do you
think you are ready for that?”

“Yes,
I’m ready to try. In theory, everything ought to work.”

“Good.
Then you’ll have Pascal. I guarantee it.”

 The
idea of performing the experiment on his former friend scared Isaac. He didn’t
want to do it, hoping that some other option would turn up by chance. But it
had not and now there was no choice. The other option was selling his own
orange energy.

As
Isaac set off to Roquebrun, he was raking his brain over what could persuade
Pascal to take on this dangerous adventure. Of course, it was pointless to lay
all the cards on the table, but Isaac did not want to lure him in by deception
either. He chose a middle course.