Authors: B. Wulf
The return of Doctor Neumann slowed my racing heart a little. He sat himself beside me, crossed his legs like my Grandpa used to and proceeded to hand out a thick A4 booklet to each of us.
“Your contracts and general requirements for the internship. You needn’t sign and return these until next Thursday.”
I took mine and sighed when I realized how thick it was. Oh well, I’m a big boy now; I have lots of letters after my name.
“Er excuse me,” said Kate, coughing slightly, “Shouldn’t we have seen these before we were brought here. What if we don’t want to sign?”
Sasha raised his bushy eyebrows, “Ah yes dear, if you so wish, you may return to your homes all expenses paid by CANA. To tell you the truth it never really crossed my mind that anyone would refuse this opportunity.”
Kate nodded, and started flicking through the pages. My feeble understanding of the fairer sex told me that she was annoyed. I was just happy that it all looked official. Stuart on the other hand looked like he was about to burst.
“Doctor Neumann,” he blurted.
“Yes Stuart?”
“I just wanted you to know that it is truly an honour to be selected for this prestigious internship. I never dreamed that I would be having coffee with the founder of CANA and the father of modern neuroscience.”
It was interesting to see that the Doctor looked embarrassed by Stuart’s tirade of acclamation.
“At my age I could be considered the grandfather of modern neuroscience, but thank you my dear boy,” said Sasha, “It is an honour to have coffee with you also.”
Stuart looked overcome by academic euphoria and just sat back and grinned.
“Right,” said Sasha, “Now that we have dispensed with the formalities, how are you all enjoying the big city?”
“I don’t think I can actually take it all in when I’m this tired,” I said.
I looked behind me to see the CANA headquarters looming over the surrounding area. It was massive.
“Hence the coffee,” said Sasha raising his tea and smiling.
I was sitting there wondering if I should have got an iced tea like the Doctor instead of my mocha. Perhaps it was better for your brain, which is why Sasha drank it?
“I thought you'd be keen on coffee,” I remarked, pointing to the drink in his hand. “Scientists usually love their coffee, in my experience.”
“To tell you the truth,” Sasha said, stirring his tea with the little bendy straw, “I've never tried it, as curious as that may seem.”
“You're missing out,” I said taking a none too refined mouthful from the plastic cup, “Why don't you try it?”
Sasha paused before replying. He was staring into his tall glass. “My mother used to say that I could only drink coffee when I was old enough,” he said, chuckling wryly.
“So you're still not old enough?” I joked.
Sasha looked up and smiled at me.
“Most definitely not.”
We lapsed into silence for a while.
“So do we get to do some sightseeing?” said Stuart, “My parents want some pictures.”
So did mine.
“I’ll see what we can work out,” said Sasha, “You must keep in mind that this is primarily an academic internship.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing that stick thing,” I said.
“I assume you mean the Washington Monument?” said Sasha. “Yes we shall have to go sightseeing some time, but first you three will need to get settled into CANA life. It can be…” He paused in thought. “Full on.”
Chapter 2
CANA had everything- cafes, gyms, a restaurant, various shops and even a swimming pool on the roof, right next to the helipad. It was like a miniature city, within a big city, and Sasha encouraged us to make full use of the facilities. I was staying in a little room on the sixth floor right next door to Kate and Stuart.
That night, after lots of paperwork, orienteering and an hour-long call to my parents, I decided to hobble up to the rooftops for a swim. The sky was clear, the air was warm and the breeze was gentle. It was a perfect evening. I stretched, put my cane to the side and halted. My heart leapt into my throat, which was a blessing because I might have screamed otherwise.
There was Kate, alone, having a swim. Well, if it was a perfect world she would have been alone, but there was also a man with an uncomfortably hairy chest doing laps in the pool. He was however, irrelevant. She saw me and waved. I waved back and then pretended to admire the view as I waited for her to turn away.
Finally she turned and I stumbled forward. The hairy man started to smirk at me as he witnessed my mad-dash to the waters edge. Dignified and composed, are two words that suit me about as well as the words, petite and lithe, suit a hippopotamus. I stopped, swaying on the balls of my feet, and tried to act cool when Kate turned back to me. She cocked her head to the left, gave me a confused smile and then dived under the water. Seizing the opportunity, I dove (more fell) headfirst into the pool. I gasped as the icy water enveloped me, my senses returning as I surfaced. Hopefully she hadn’t seen my clumsy dash. My limp could look pretty comical when I didn’t have my cane.
“Hey Fletcher.”
She was talking to me. I spent at least ten seconds thinking of a reply.
“Hi.”
Damn. I don’t do well under pressure.
“How are you finding CANA?” she asked. She looked so interested. Why?
“Its pretty hard out aye. Got everything here. No fast-food though.”
She laughed. It was just a little laugh, but I was fist punching in my mind. I had made her laugh. I started grinning from ear to ear.
“Yeah,” she agreed, “It is just like I dreamed it would be. I still can’t believe this is happening.”
“Neither,” I said. She was talking about the internship. I was talking about being alone with her.
She hopped out of the pool and started to look at the Washington skyline.
“You should come and see this Fletcher,” she said, “You can see the D.C. monument from here. It’s like a little glowing matchstick on the horizon.”
My heart sank and I started swearing in my head. I hated Mary Poppins now. I levered myself up out of the pool and shakily got to my feet. Every step towards Kate pinched a nerve and sent pain shooting up my leg. I needed my cane to take the pressure off my ankle. I swore I could hear the hairy man in the pool laughing at me. I prayed fervently that Kate wouldn’t turn around and see me, Staggers the nerdy kid that always sits at the front of the class and gets called an assortment of malicious names by his peers. Finally I could relax as I gripped the rail and took my place beside Kate.
“Wow,” I murmured, without realizing.
“I know,” said Kate nodding her head in awe.
“So where do you come from?” I asked.
“I don’t really have a home town. We moved so much when I was little that I never really got to associate a place with the word home.”
I stopped myself from pressing further when I saw the look on her face.
“We are in Washington,” she said, “and here we are standing on the rooftops just looking at it.” She whipped herself around, hair flick and all, before starting towards her towel. “Lets go get a piece of it Fletch. Meet me at that coffee shop in an hour.” It was the only place we knew outside of CANA. “We’ll go from there.”
With that she rushed off towards the elevator and I was left alone with the hairy man who was still doing laps, wondering how on earth my life got so good.
This was a date, right?
***
Maybe she wouldn't turn up? I'd arrived early, so I could secure a seat and put my cane out of sight. Twenty minutes had passed me by, along with an assortment of Coffee drinkers. Washingtonians, or whatever they're called, look busy. Tailored nods, polished smiles and a brisk walk; I wondered if I could keep up. Even the hipsters were in a rush.
Finally Kate arrived. I spotted her before she saw me so I had a moment to gawk at her. She wore a floral summery dress with a denim jacket. I stood up, gripping the arm of the chair and waved. She was biting her cheek, forming a dimple, and fiddling with the buckle of a tacky yellow handbag that hung over her shoulder. She lit up when she saw me, and the tense lines on her face softened.
“Fletch,” she exclaimed, I liked her calling me Fletch, “You came. Stuart couldn’t. He said he’s got jet lag.”
She sat down in the cuboid couch opposite me, coffee table separating us.
“Too bad. Do I strike you as the kind of guy to miss a date?” I said drily.
“No,” she said pursing her lips, “You're obviously too much of a gentleman.”
“You could put it that way...”
“And who said this was a date?” she accused, raising her slim eyebrows.
I laughed. It was more like a nervous exhalation. “I um... I'm not good with grammar. Couldn't think of another word.”
“Say's the boy who won CANA's scholarship.”
“It was multi choice,” I said, “I was probably just lucky. He seems like a good dude.”
“Who?”
“Sasha,” I paused, “Doctor Neumann I mean.”
“Yeah he is a good dude,” said Kate, she leant forward in her chair.
“You sound like you know him already?” I asked.
Kate flattened the pleats on her dress.
“He's like the god of science,” she said.
“He’s pretty relaxed for a god. I wonder why all us interns are so young. Wouldn’t they want people with experience? How old are you?”
“Twenty two, you?”
“Twenty,” I said. She looked younger. “So what made you apply?” I asked.
“It’s always been my dream to work in CANA.”
She started tracing the circumference of a coaster with her finger, her eyes staying fixed on its center. It had a picture of Snoopy holding a steaming mug.
“Just like every other science post-graduate I guess.” She finally became disenchanted with snoopy and looked at me before asking, “Are you gonna order?”
“I don't really feel like coffee,” I said grimacing, “Caffeine keeps me up.”
A man who had followed Kate in was sitting to our left. He kept glancing at us as he drank his coffee. It was unnerving.
“It's getting late, how about we go get something to eat?” I tried not to look too pleading as I matched her gaze. I need to work on my social skills. “If you're not busy, that is.”
She laughed. “And what would I be busy with?”
As we left the coffee stall I glanced back to see the man rise, tuck a newspaper under his arm and head down the steps after us. Welcome to Washington.
***
The night ended after dinner at a cheap Thai place, and a few drinks at a corner club. I hadn’t seen the strange man all night, but I was sure he was around, lurking in the shadows somewhere.
“I enjoyed tonight Fletch.”
We were standing at the door to Kate’s room. I noticed that we were nearly the same height, though her posture was a lot better.
“Same,” I replied, “Maybe we can do it again sometime?”
“Maybe,” she said with a slim smile. “Goodnight Fletch.”
“Goodnight Kate.”
She gave me a little wave and then vanished into her room.
I was left in the hallway, still not quite believing this fairytale turn of events. One day in Washington and my life was transformed. Smiling to myself, I grasped my cane and staggered off to bed.
Chapter 3
“Hey Staggers, wait up man.”
Nearly a week had passed since my dinner with Kate and us interns had fallen into the routine of CANA life. Our first week had been primarily concerned with being introduced to the different divisions of CANA. Mostly administrative type stuff, but today, a Tuesday I think, Sasha had invited us to a board meeting where the idea was to sit down, shut up, and observe. I had left my room a bit early, so I wouldn’t have to walk with Stuart or Kate to the conference room. But sadly, Stuart had caught up with me.
“Staggers bro,” he flung an arm around my neck. He was quite short so it can’t have been a very comfortable position for him. “You been noticing anything strange going on lately?”
“Um nothing stranger than Kate talking to me.”
He laughed. “So no shady men in dark sunglasses trailing you around? I just wanted some corn chips.” I remembered the strange man. “Whenever I go out I swear they are watching me.”
“Yeah I have noticed it. Who do you think they are?”
“CANA? Looneys? Russians? It’s usually the Russians in the movies.”
“We could just be imagining things,” I offered.
“Yeah perhaps,” Stuart opened the door to the conference room for me. “But let’s just keep on the lookout right?”
“Right.”
The room was a rectangular box with a pretentious leather office chair facing a wall full of screens. In the corner was a pot plant; it was like a failed attempt at decor. Along the back wall was a row of smaller, less presumptuous chairs. Stuart and I took a seat. The room was deserted.
“So Staggers, what’s going on with you and Kate?” Stuart was peering around the room as he talked to me, all meerkat like.
“I don’t… Nothing?” I swallowed. “I’m not sure what…”
“She’s into you bro. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.” He stopped staking out the room. “No offence man, but you are doing well for yourself. She is…”
The door opened and in walked Kate. Stuart shut his mouth and stared ahead guiltily.
“Hey guys,” she said with a little wave.
“Hey,” I waved back.
“Hey girl, how you doing?” Stuart was very thug-life sometimes.
“Pretty tired, but good,” she said before sitting down beside Stuart.
My heart sank a little. Why hadn’t she sat next to me?
“Do you know what this is about?” she asked.
Before any of us could answer the door opened again and Sasha crept into the room, followed by a stranger.
“Ah,” he said, “You’re all here. Good, good. I hope you are all feeling well. This is Cole. He will be your ‘handler’, to coin an imperfect term. He will be in charge of supervising the internship from here on out.”
“Pleasure to meet you. It’s great to finally meet the three prodigies. Truly it is an honour. Hopefully you three will change the world.”
Change the world? As an intern? Right. He shook each of our hands and repeated our names out loud as we introduced ourselves, committing them to memory. When he shook Kate’s hand he kissed her on the cheek and whispered something in her ear, to which she laughed softly.
Odd much.
Cole was yet another businessmen clone. Washington should order a newer model from wherever they're manufacturing these guys. Add some variety. Change it up a bit. I was growing tired of the square jaw, slick silver flecked hair, and subtle reek of cologne. Not deodorant. It had to be cologne around here. He did have a very nice tweety bird tie on though. It was almost like he was grasping at individuality. Not many businessmen sported tweety ties. Bugs bunny was in, however.
Well, I can officially never claim that I haven't judged a book by its cover. I'd already mapped out this guy’s plot line and character traits. Plot: College, marriage, job, divorce, promotion, marriage, retirement, divorce. For the big finale he marries a twenty-three year old Georgian Ballerina when he's eighty and dies a happy grand-player. Character: Not applicable.
When did I become so judgmental?
The front desk had given us all phones to keep in touch, and I was contemplating texting Kate. The fact that she sat just a chair across from me did not factor into my reasoning. I kept trying to glance at her, but Stuart’s enraptured face obscured my view. He was still in wonderland with this internship. The novelty had kind of worn off for me. To be honest, I was more interested in talking to Kate than the latest scientific breakthroughs that had the capacity to change the course of history. It’s all about priorities.
Cole sat down beside me and gave me a disapproving look when he saw my phone. It was just like trying to text in class, something that I had never done by the way. I smiled at Cole guiltily, who to my surprise smiled back and then gestured towards Sasha, who had taken his place in the middle chair. We were going to watch from a distance I guess. It was kind of funny because Sasha was facing away from us, and only the crown of his head breached the horizon of his leather chair. It was all tufty. Like the way it gets when it's actually bald but it's styled into a comb over. Like a geriatric rooster; I liked that phrase.
“I would put it on silent,” said Cole softly.
I turned it off.
“What's your name again?” he asked, “I’m shocking with names.”
“Fletcher,” I said drumming my knees with spirit fingers.
“Fletcher,” he repeated, “It's a pleasure to finally meet you kids. I look forward to working with you. Amazing how your brains are so well developed, yet you are still so young.”
I took his hand. Firm handshake, but very smooth skin; this guy moisturized. I did too, sometimes, but that’s because I get eczema.
“I'm not all that,” I replied. Deep down I savored his remark but etiquette demanded a humble reply. “It was multi-choice. I probably fluked it.” That had become my catch phrase over the last few days.
“I've taken that test,” he replied, “There's more than enough material to minimize the random error. Statistically the odds are on you being a prodigy.” He looked me up and down. “A lackadaisical one at that.”
“Pardon?”
“It means...”
“I was joking,” I cut in, “I thought you trusted the statistics.”
“Cole,” called Sasha, in a long-winded voice like a man addressing his son, “Can you get the stupid thing working. I can't find the... Oh wait… No, that’s not it. Cole, get over here.”
Cole winked at me, “Now, he may be a genius, but like all old fogies he can't tell a cell phone from a calculator.”
I actually genuinely laughed at Cole's joke, and so did Stuart and Kate who had been listening in. I surprised myself.
The lights dimmed and the screens lit up with the visages of twelve serious looking oldies. Most were wearing suits, but some were sporting robes and those cloth things on their head. I don’t know what they are called. The youngest appeared about thirty-five, maybe forty. Judging from their expressions, smiling was a foreign policy to them, like civil liberty in North Korea. A couple of them could've been Korean. I hoped they couldn't read minds. I cordially retracted my statement and added an apology in my head. Just in case. This was CANA, the forerunner in brain magic.
“Greetings Gentlemen,” said Sasha magnanimously, “And Ladies.” He added his last statement as an afterthought, obviously forgetting the one lady in the top right corner. She seemed to be a botox abuser. Either that or she had been mauled by a bear and forced to get complete facial reconstructive surgery. She was pretty, with fierce eyes and cropped jet-black hair; pretty, as in pretty fake. Perhaps it was just the lighting. I made a mental note to stop being so judgmental. It's counter productive. She did have nice green eyes.
“I have good news,” continued Sasha, “Stage one has been given the go ahead. We are confident that there will be no detrimental side effects.”
“And you expect us to dive in headfirst?”
I didn’t catch who spoke. Sounded like a guy. Indian possibly.
“Yes,” replied Sasha, “And I assure you the water is deep enough. You won't hit your head on the bottom.”
No one laughed. Tough crowd.
“But,” said Sasha, I saw his index finger rise above the chair, “To sooth any tortured fears, let me introduce you to someone. Frederick, are you there?”
A previously unlit screen flashed to life accompanied by a chorus of gasps. It was a man... I assumed. The hairs on my neck gave the figure a standing ovation. He looked like a statue from Pompeii. Except instead of cooled magma he was metal.
“This, my colleagues, is Frederick. How do you feel Frederick?”
“I feel fine.”
“I’m pleased to hear that Frederick. Now friends,” Sasha paused, “Is this satisfactory?”
“What's he made of?” asked one chubby man in the mid left.
He was frowning furiously. At least I think it was frowning; it may just have been the weight of his double chin pulling the edges of his mouth down.
“A beta phase titanium alloy mainly. We had weight restrictions so titanium was the natural choice. Nano-composites were considered but did not prove feasible...”
“So it's strong?”
“Ask a fighter pilot, he's flying around in a great big chunk of it.”
“I want it to be strong,” mumbled the man, quieting down.
He sat back in his chair, his chin wobbling like jelly.
“We can start the procedure as soon as suits,” offered Sasha.
The chubby man was screwing up his nose and sniffing loudly.
“Our investment better have been used wisely Doctor Neumann,” he said.
Sasha seemed to be losing his patience, “What you are getting is immortality, eternal vigor, and a chance to change the world, Mister Lieckerman. Do you count that as a wise investment?”
Lieckerman finally shut up.
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen,” said Sasha, his good cheer returning, “We shall be in contact.”
The screens then went blank and Sasha eased himself out of his chair and stretched like a Persian cat. Shaking his shoulders he shuffled over to us.
“Follow me,” he said simply, “We need to talk.”
We followed. I felt nauseous, like I'd been on a boat.
***
“What the hell was that?” whispered Stuart into my ear as we followed Sasha and Cole down a corridor.
“Some kind of robot?” I asked, “The Japanese have talking robots.”
“It sounded human,” said Kate. She appeared oddly calm. I was freaking out and so was Stuart apparently.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” said Stuart.
“Yes you did,” said Kate, “This is CANA. What did you expect?”
Perhaps I should have done my research better before I applied, but then I met Kate. So it’s all good, kind of evens out.
“There must be an entirely rational explanation for what we saw,” said Stuart frantically.
“This is CANA, Stuart. When science progresses far enough, it starts to look like fantasy to any normal person.”
“This is CANA, this is CANA,” whined Stuart, mockingly. He started kicking the air and looked on the edge of hyperventilation.
“Let’s all just shut up and wait for Sasha to explain,” I said.
I was surprised to hear my own voice sound so authoritative. My limp wasn’t even that noticeable at the moment. My cane was definitely noticeable, however. Kate smiled appreciatively at me.
“We are in this together,” I added.
Stuart blinked hard, shook his head, and took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll cool it. I’m sorry Kate, I just wasn’t prepared for that.”
“I don’t think any of us were,” I said.
Kate looked at me, eyes brimming with curiosity. It was like her gaze was saying ‘I was’. Or was it just my imagination? Was it just an innocent look? She must have seen my worried expression because she quickly shifted her focus to the floor.
***
I sat myself down on a lounge-suite in Sasha’s office, which was on the top floor of CANA. I was too busy trying not to vomit to look at the furnishings but I did notice a little vase that was quite nice. It had lavenders in it. I like lavenders. Sasha and Cole sat opposite us in separate armchairs while all three interns sat on the couch.
“I apologize for not giving you any advance warning,” said Sasha. Concern made his brow even wrinklier.
We stayed silent. None of us knew what to say.
“What is wrong with this world?” asked Sasha. He saw our confused looks and said, “Just say the first thing that comes into your head.”
“Greed,” said Kate firmly.
“War?” I said tentatively.
Stuart kept quiet. This was one of those questions where the only answer that matters is the one that the person posing the question wants. He didn’t appear to want to play the game.
“Stuart?” said Sasha softly, “What is wrong with this world?”
He looked determined not to answer but Sasha just kept waiting. Finally he caved.
“Death,” he said simply.