The Kaleidoscope (27 page)

“Do you…can I—is it a good time if we come by your house? I need to ask your wife some questions.”

“Leesa? I guess it’s okay. Mind if I ask why?”

“I’d rather not say yet. Until we get there.” Harold usually avoided being so cryptic but worried about being heard by the wrong people. “Is fifteen minutes okay?”

In a few minutes, they hurried to Pepper’s car, and Harold checked for anyone following them. In a flash, Harold realized the irony.

The moment he’d dreaded all his life had finally arrived. He was now acting as paranoid as his father.

****

Rhashan opened the door of a small bungalow, and showed Pepper and Harold to a well-worn couch. “Leesa is just putting Dante to bed. She’ll be out soon. Would you like a cold drink?”

“That would be nice.” Pepper had been patiently by Harold’s side all afternoon, only excusing herself once to walk Glenda and feed her dinner.

“Thanks for sticking with this.” He was glad they were alone.

“Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t miss finding out what’s inside that thing for the world.” Pepper wiggled a sparse brow at him. “It’s like we’re in some kind of adventure movie all of a sudden.”

The lingering scents of something grilled for dinner reminded Harold of his own hunger. Bright pictures of island scenes galleried one wall, and bookshelves filled with texts and classics lined another. Clustered between the leather spines were geodes, rocks, and gems in various sizes and shapes. A window unit churned cool air into the small space.

Rhashan came back in with two glasses, followed by the woman Harold recognized from the photo. “I brought a plate of Leesa’s brownies. She makes dem gluten free.”

After the introductions, Leesa sat down on the arm of a chair next to her husband. “Rhashan said you have a question for me?”

“Yes.” Harold expected the brownie to be taste-free as well, but it went down nicely with the refreshing tea. He swallowed. “I understand you’re an expert in crystals.”

Rhashan patted his wife’s knee. “She’s putting the finishing touches on her thesis.”

“I told Harold they are believed to have healing powers,” Pepper told her. “But you are obviously the expert.”

Leesa regarded Pepper. “How are you doing, dear? I pray you’re in good health now?”

“I’ve had some setbacks, but I’m doing well, thanks.” She lifted her scarf. “I’m cancer free for now, but still wearing these until the hair’s grown back.”

Leesa gently patted her hand. “We’re so glad to know that.” Eyes the color of the sky regarded Harold. “Does this have to do with the Kaleidoscope?”

“Go ahead and show her,” Pepper prompted him.

Harold pulled the tissue from his pocket and opened it. He handed her the clear crystal that had been nestled inside the ’scope.

Leesa palmed it. “This may be an industrial diamond.” She picked up a headband magnifier and slipped it on to examine the gem.

“What does this have to do with the ’scope?” Rhashan asked.

“It was inside.” Harold watched Leesa turn the crystal over. “I brought the other bits, but I think they’re just glass.” He removed the top of the tiffin Pepper loaned him to carry them in.

She laid out the gems, and sorted through. “Tell me more about this Kaleidoscope. From what Rhashan tells me it appears to have mystical properties.”

Harold told her what he found inside, and about the visions.

“These are just glass.” She held one up to the light. “Beautiful colors, but just glass.”

“We want to know how it shows people images.” Pepper’s tone dropped. “I saw my own grave.”

Harold remembered something else. “It warms up. I thought it was just me. But I think it really heats up on its own.”

“And Rhashan saw…then it’s coming true.” Leesa’s remark almost missed arriving at Harold’s one good ear, but Pepper repeated her hushed comment.

“What’s coming true?”

“What is, babe?” Rhashan watched his wife searching the titles of the books. “What’s come true?”

“Have you ever heard of scrying?” Leesa ran a finger down the spines.

“Isn’t that like seeing the future?” Pepper said.

“There’s a belief that dates back centuries.” Leesa paused, and selected a leather-bound volume. “It’s of Celtic origin, I believe.” She flipped hastily through yellowed leaves of an index, and then started turning pages. “That’s what the seer is doing. The popular expression is ‘gazing into a crystal ball,’ but the technical term for seeing the future is ‘scrying.’ ”

Harold shifted forward from a deep spot in the sofa. “And how is that relevant?” He picked up the gem, heavy for its size.

“I’m not sure exactly. There are a couple of ancient prophecies that for generations academics and believers have studied, trying to predict how they will play out. I suppose you could say their crystal balls failed them.” She handed the still opened book to Harold. “Until now perhaps?”

Harold sneezed from the book’s dust, and they all blessed him. “Until now what?”

Leesa had drawn out another tome. Her finger hovered over a passage. She had their undivided attention. “Listen to this. ‘Toward the moon, halfway to the sun and back again, the earth will give up its secrets, the joining of the two will unleash answers yet unknown, days yet unlived, secrets yet untold. Together, the intelligence of the unloving, married to the bowels of the crust, will measure up, giving birth to a new creation.’ ”

The window unit fan squeaked, its tiny blade churning puffs of cool night air into the room.

“What does it mean?” Pepper whispered.

“Artificial intelligence,” Harold breathed. “It’s talking about artificial intelligence.”

He hadn’t shown Leesa or Rhashan, or even Pepper, the other piece he had extracted from the ’scope. A tiny computer chip that now nestled at the bottom of his shirt pocket. “Trust no one,” his father had said. “There are people who will kill for what’s inside.”

Chapter Nineteen

“I’ve got bad news,” Stan told Harold on the phone the next morning. “Everything from the cabin’s been taken in for processing and the DA wants to prosecute after all. I’m going to have to work some real magic to get copies of anything.” He paused. “Harold, are you there? Do you understand? They’re talking homicide, hit and run, the whole she-bang. Do you want to see if we can help your dad, Harold, or are you convinced he’s guilty? There could be a case made that he’s off his rocker, and he’d get a lesser sentence. Would your grandma testify he was crazy? That would add weight to any expert we can get to examine him.”

Harold had to sit down so he could process all this information. “She would testify against him if she were alive.” Stan’s exuberance was scaring Harold a little. Harold had told him at least twice his grandma was dead. He wondered if Stan was in over his head. “Remember? She died several years ago.” He lifted the reassembled Kaleidoscope and sighted down the shaft.

“Oh, right. But I’m still going to suggest a mental eval.” Stan didn’t miss a beat. “It would make the DA go easier if he’s found unfit. Have you seen any signs of odd behavior, maybe your grandma was right about him? What do you think?”

“I know you’re trying to make it easier on me. But I don’t care what happens to him. Do what you have to.” The entire question of Walter’s mental health would at last be answered one way or another. It was really lose-lose. If he was crazy, then Harold could very well inherit the crazy-gene. If he wasn’t, then Harold’s father would be found guilty of killing his mother.

Was Walter right? Did the ’scope have something in it that people would kill for? Or was he just dabbling in the occult, and he was indeed loony tunes?

He didn’t know where to turn, especially in the light of the information Leesa had given him. What made the Kaleidoscope work? The whole was greater than its parts. Nothing could explain how the ’scope showed people their future. The prophesy Leesa found didn’t help, it only confused him more.

Artificial intelligence was not the answer, it was just another step in processing data. Not future-telling.

“I need to go, I’ll call you back later.” He hung up while Stan was explaining how the processing would go for Walter.

“I don’t know what I should believe about anything anymore.” Harold sank down into a chair. Glenda dropped her head in his lap, and he petted her absently. “I stayed up all night going over the coding in the chip. It’s brilliant, but still doesn’t tell me why it works.” The dog’s eyes followed his, her head still in his lap.

Pepper was cleaning up containers from their takeout. She stood in the doorway of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What did he say?”

“He wants them to declare Walter unfit.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“I want all of this behind me.”

She tossed the towel on the table and joined him on the couch. “What did Clyde say? Are you in big trouble?”

“I’m in medium trouble. It will be all right, but I don’t think I’ll be getting that corner office any time soon. Or in this decade. I almost blew it, but the current project I’m on is something only I can finish. They’re stuck with me.”

“You haven’t put the ’scope back together?” She indicated a towel he’d rolled out, tools and magnifiers set out.

“Putting the pieces back.” He got up and crossed over to the table to pick up a chip he’d discovered in the Kaleidoscope’s hidden crevices. “I found this.”

She studied it when he laid it in her palm. “It’s so tiny. A computer chip?”

“I think that may be what everyone is after.”

“You mean the people who had him tied up? They were after this?” She held it on the tip of her pointer finger, addressing it. “You sure are tiny to be such a troublemaker. Why is it so important to everyone?”

“My guess is, it’s got the information he was going for.” Harold accepted it from her. “He said he kept a journal and told me to read it, but that would mean I have to get the journal from the DA. Our only hope is Stan. If they’ll show it to him.”

Pepper’s brows knitted. “You don’t think Stan is one of the bad guys, do you?”

“No. But can we trust him not to blab to the wrong people?”

“Like dirty cops?” She lifted his management book, flipping through the pages while Harold ruminated on all that had happened. “ ‘A gentleman always stands whenever a lady enters or leaves the room.’ I guess I’m a romantic at heart, but some of this sounds really nice.”

Harold regarded her. “Like what?”

She tilted her head at him. “Everything gallant has been replaced by too much independence. Our lives are intertwined, and we’re more dependent on each other than we sometimes want to admit. I want a knight once in a while.”

He examined a paper cut in his left thumb.

“What is it?”

“I think Walter made a breakthrough. AI was his specialty.”

“His genius, Harry? Just like you. He’s not crazy. He’s a genius.”

Harold shrugged. “I guess.” He studied the diagram he’d drawn while taking the Kaleidoscope apart so he could rebuild it.

“What do you know about AI?” Pepper went back to finish loading the dishwasher. “Isn’t artificial intelligence just for robots, and things like that?”

“No, not at all. It’s all around us, every day. Data mining, virus chasing. But the problem has always been…well, there’s more than one problem. But mainly, how do we determine how much information it takes to create AI?”

“I don’t get it.”

He peered at her over his glasses. “Suppose you want to teach a robot how to clean the kitchen. But every day, there’s something different. One day there’s a stewpot to clean, the next day a pizza box to throw out. Think about all the decisions you make. You probably make thousands of them, without thinking twice, deciding what goes where, and whether the item goes on the top shelf or the bottom. What gets hand washed, which items go in the recycling or into the disposal, what gets put in the fridge for leftovers—”

“I get it.” She held up a hand. “Sort of. It’s tough to teach a computer so many variables.”

“Exactly. And not only is that challenging, but what does it do after the information is in there? And what about moral or ethical decisions?” He tapped his head. “Every day, every second, the variables change. On Tuesday the garbage goes out, but on Wednesday the recycling…” He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Somehow, though, it seems like my dad has solved the problem of all that information. But I can’t find in the code how it works.”

“How do you know it
is
happening, Harry?”

He cradled the Kaleidoscope carcass in his palm as if it was a prized Fabergé egg. “Because in a fraction of a second, this device can assemble an image meaningful to the very person using it. The question is how. My dad figured it out.”
Dad
. He’d said it aloud.

“And no wonder everyone wants to get their mitts on it.”

“And possibly commit murder for.” For the first time, Harold allowed himself to believe that perhaps his father’s paranoia was valid. There was a genuine possibility there were nefarious reasons, not just odd behaviors inspired by psychosis. He made a decision he hadn’t anticipated making until that moment. “I need a favor,” he told Pepper. “I want my dad to have the best representation possible.”

“I can ask one of the attorneys to rep him, sure.” She searched his face. “I thought you hated him. The guy who allegedly”—she air quoted—“killed your mom?”

“If he’s really guilty, then they will find that out. If he’s innocent, then whoever killed her is still out there.” Win-win.

“Makes sense.”

“If the best lawyers in LA can’t prove his innocence, then I’ll have to go the rest of my life believing he did do it, and that what my grandma told me was true.” Harold gazed into the gathering darkness. “And if that’s true, then I have to believe everything else she told me about him.”
And me.

“Unless there’s a third possibility.” Pepper picked up the ’scope’s shell and sighted through it, aiming at Harold. “What do you really think causes the magic, Harry?”

“I don’t believe in magic.”

“You already admitted something goes on inside this tube. More than meets the eye.”

She fiddled with it, and he began reassembling it meticulously, considering her question. All the parts were present except for the missing crystal that Leesa was still running tests on. “There’s always a scientific explanation.”