Authors: Robert Berke
"I had a psychotic break." He said, confirming Hermelinda's diagnosis while still looking past her. "It's quite interesting from the inside. Different from what we see on the outside." Hermelinda noticed that he said these words very slowly.
"Do you have any personal items here, Doug?" She asked.
"No." He answered. He was looking at his shoes. "I was wearing this when they brought me." He looked up at Hermelinda. She was turned away from him looking through the drawers to make sure nothing was left behind. "Dr. Beedle was a student of mine once. He knows you."
"Is that your doctor?" She asked, her back still to him. "He's a real gentleman. I learned a lot from him."
"He's my doctor." He said, looking back down at his shoes. "It's very embarrassing. The cobbler's children have no shoes. I had some time-bombs inside, I guess."
"Well it sounds like you are able to view your symptoms objectively now."
Dr. Bayron looked back up to see Hermelinda looking at him. He looked into her eyes. They were sad, but they gave him comfort. She noticed the eye contact and felt that maybe, just maybe, he was going to be all right. "Yes and no," he responded. "I couldn't move, couldn't act. My conscious thoughts were real, my intelligence was working, but it was like a short circuit, or even a blown fuse. Every thought, no matter how fully formed, eventually devolved into one single thought. There was never a point at which I didn't know where I was or what I was doing. I just couldn't do anything about it. It was like a paralysis."
"Come on, I'll take you back. There'll be plenty of time to talk and rest and get a handle on whatever it was that happened. You'll be among friends." She extended her hand to help him off of the bed.
"I didn't tell Dr. Beedle anything." Bayron said with a tinge of guilt in his voice. He took her hand and she gave him a little tug. He came to his feet and they began walking down the hall. His gaze was fixed straight ahead. He never let go of her hand.
"It's all public already, Doug. The press conference went as planned. You're famous. There was nothing to keep secret." Hermelinda said.
"We should have kept it secret," he replied and then began to look past her again.
Alice went back to the infirmary to make a double check before her patient arrived. She dutifully made sure everything was clean and that all traces of Mr. Smith's long convalescence there had been removed. She also had some training at a mental hospital and made sure there was nothing dangerous in the room. Satisfied that the room was safe, she walked out of the infirmary with its lead lined walls to a bathroom down the hall.
She pulled out her cellphone and made a quick phone call. "They found Bayron. He's coming back today."
CHAPTER XV.
The Steak and Ale was one of Julian's favorite restaurants and his greatest journalistic tool. He had been going there for years. He had extracted a career's worth of newsworthy information by bringing interview subjects to this restaurant. The dining room was dark and noisy. The booths were cozy and the benches were covered in stiff red vinyl. The drink glasses never stayed empty. The atmosphere simply demanded one more glass of wine or one more beer or one more cocktail. At the Steak and Ale Julian found it easy to loosen up his subjects. Gonzales approved.
Julian called Kitty and told her that he wanted to do a follow up story about what had been unveiled at the press conference and was looking for a different angle. He was hoping she would help and in any event, he said, he wanted to buy her lunch because she was so nice to him at the SmithCorp Building. Kitty said she would have to ask Sam Takahashi if it was okay for her to talk to the press. Julian said he understood and asked her to call him back.
He didn't wait long. His phone rang just a few minutes later. She would be happy to meet him at the Steak and Ale.
They arranged to meet at 12:30 p.m. the following afternoon.
Gonzales picked Julian up at his home at 12:15 and they arrived at the restaurant right on time. Josey Cruz was already there sitting alone at a table on the far side of the restaurant. An invisible exchange took place between Gonzales and Cruz. With small gestures unnoticeable to anyone else, Cruz let Gonzales know that he had arrived early and made sure the restaurant was secure and Gonzales let Cruz know that everything was going as planned. Kitty showed up at 12:40. Cruz was surprised when he saw her. They had told him that she was young and pretty, but they had not told him quite how young pretty. She had been using Myra as her template for how a professional woman should dress and she had chosen an excellent template. She met the men at the restaurant wearing a skirted business suit with a white shirt and medium heels. Had she not been described to him before, Cruz was certain he would have mistaken her for lawyer at a prestigious firm.
Julian introduced Gonzales as Bill Ortega, another reporter from the Gazette, and asked if she minded if he joined them. Gonzales extended his hand toward Kitty and said, "just call me Bill." Kitty shook his hand reluctantly. Julian read her body language instantly and recognized her nervousness. Without pause he added, "You know our publisher almost never approves expense requests for stuff like this, so when one of us gets approval, we all try to get our friends in for the free meal. I seriously hope you don't mind." Julian and Gonzales both noticed her hand relax into the handshake and both knew that Julian had disarmed her.
Kitty trusted Julian. In the past he had always looked so sad to her. Today he looked different. He looked energetic. He looked like the kind of man who might actually want a lap dance.
Steaks were ordered. Julian ordered his usual, the bone-in ribeye and a tall Guinness Stout. Gonzales ordered a Filet Mignon and Dewar's on the rocks. Kitty had the Petite Ribeye and a glass of water. "Have a glass of wine," Julian insisted. "The paper's paying for it, you might as well live a little." He didn't wait for Kitty to assent. He told the waiter to bring her a glass of the house red.
Julian pulled a small spiral-bound pad out of his back pants pocket and opened it in front of him. He pulled a pen from his shirt pocket, and a small pair of reading glasses from his jacket pocket and arranged them on his nose. This was all for show. Julian knew that Gonzales would be recording the whole interview. Julian looked over the top rim of his glasses at Kitty. She looked so commanding in her tailored business suit that he had to squint to recognize her as the cute little stripper from the Moviestar Topless. He cleared his throat.
"So what I'm really looking for here," he started, "is some kind of human interest angle on this whole Smith, artificial brain thing. My readers don't really care about the science behind it, and I'm not smart enough to deal with the philosophical implications, so I though I might try to write a piece about how all this plays out at home. Maybe like how it effects his family and his relationships? While everyone seems focused on the bigger picture, I think there may be something interesting in the little day-to-day details. Maybe to write about the people who are actually affected personally. What do you think?"
Kitty leaned back to let the waiter place her glass of wine in front of her. She took a small taste as the waiter served the other drinks. Gonzales raised his glass and said, "to free lunch!" Julian raised his glass and said "hear, hear." Kitty blushed a little, embarrassed that she had drunk from her glass before everyone had their drinks. She knew she still had some social graces to practice. She took a larger sip after the toast hoping they would understand that the second sip was the real sip and the first was just a taste.
"So what do you think of my idea?" Julian prodded.
Kitty dabbed the corners of her lips with the corner of a napkin as she had seen Myra do after drinking. She thought for a moment. "Well, Mr. Waterstone, I don't think he has any family besides Hermelinda and the baby, and ..." She stopped speaking suddenly. She didn't want to say what she was thinking. Please don't push, she prayed.
"And what?" Julian pushed.
"I shouldn't say. It's personal, and I don't really know." Kitty evaded the question.
"About the marriage? About the baby? That's all common knowledge already." Julian gambled, hoping to get something juicy. What about the marriage? What about the baby? He wondered. He would sneak back to that topic after a second glass of wine. The art of the interview: Julian knew that if he played it right he was going to get a something, and he knew he was going to play it right. He'd been doing this for a long, long, time. He veered away from the subject. "So there's no other family at all?" he asked.
"I don't think so," Kitty answered.
"Well what about his inner circle? His staff? There must be other people who are close to him."
Kitty thought for a moment. "Okay," she said, "there's Sam Takahashi, for one. They've been friends all their lives. I think they've known each other from elementary school. Honestly, I think that's Mr. Smith's only real friend. At least I know Mr. Takahashi considers Mr. Smith to be his closest friend. He showed me a scar once and said that he and Mr. Smith had identical ones from when they decided they were blood brothers. It's pretty gross actually," she said wrinkling her nose to make the point. "That's the only friend I know. He just loves Mr. Smith to death. He was the guy who ran the service the other day. He's an older Japanese guy, but he's a real party animal when he gets a few drinks in him. You can take my word for that."
Kitty paused and watched Julian scribbling in his notebook. Julian looked up to let her know that he wanted her to continue, which she did happily.
"Hermelinda used to be his nurse, and then, you know, I guess they became lovers and got married. You saw her too. And they have a baby. Then there's Myra, that's Smith's personal assistant. She was there too. She's real smart and super classy. Everybody respects her. She pretty much runs all of SmithCorp now. I mean Smith still does all the thinking and stuff, but Myra's sort of like his avatar. Did you see that movie?"
"No," Julian smiled, "but I know what you mean."
"There's Dr. Bayron, of course. You know he just kind of disappeared. I know he and Mr. Smith were also real close. Smith hired a private investigator to look for him, but he seems real confident that he'll come back. Hermelinda insisted that they hire an investigator. She really likes him too."
"So you've met Dr. Bayron?" Julian asked.
"Oh, yes! A couple of times when I was helping put together the press conference. He was supposed to be kind of the centerpiece. He seemed real, real, nervous about speaking in public though. I thought maybe he chickened out at the last minute."
"So what is Dr. Bayron like? You know, as a person?" Julian persisted.
"Oh, he's real nice. Quiet. He seems, well I guess a little lost at times. Like his mind is thinking about other stuff all the time. He's like a real genius. Like a character. I like him, but he really needs a wife." Kitty chuckled and took another sip of wine.
Julian took a long draw from his beer too. "Anyone else?"
"Ummm," Kitty thought hard, "there's the guy they call Sharky. I never met him, but I once heard Dr. Bayron mention that Smith was real fond of him. Oh! And then there's Alice. That's the other nurse. She's real funny. She's this little Filipina lady who just talks and talks and talks. She's the one with all the gossip! If you want gossip, you should take her to lunch. She also once asked me to volunteer at the Jewish nursing home on Washington Avenue. I thought that was weird, but I might do it anyway. It seems like a nice thing to do." Kitty paused to think again and shook her head.
Julian asked, "that's it?"
"Maybe you could call me inner circle, maybe. From what I've seen I'm probably next on the list. You know that Mr. Smith hired me personally. He's a very nice man. He's very funny. I mean, I didn't meet him until after he, you know, died and all, but he made me laugh. Mr. Takahashi writes my paycheck, but I'm sure its Mr. Smith who's keeping me around. So I guess he likes me too." She stopped and searched her mind again. "Yeah, I think that's it. I can't think of anyone else." Kitty concluded.
The steaks came on sizzling plates. Kitty was glad that she had something to do besides answer questions. Gonzales, motioned to the waiter to bring another round of drinks. "Oh, that smells good," Gonzales said, smiling at Kitty and cutting into his steak.
"I am sooooo hungry," Kitty admitted.
"So how did you get involved in this whole thing?" Gonzales asked, giving Julian a moment to eat some of his steak.
Kitty answered between bites, "Oh, that's kind of a long story. I don't want to embarrass anyone."
"We're both big boys here, Kitty," Julian reassured her. "Bill, knows that I sometimes go to the Moviestar.
"Okay," Kitty said, "I'll tell you, but you both have to promise not to put anything about this in your article. Okay?"
"Scout's honor," Gonzales replied, smiling.
"I promise," Julian said.
Kitty proceeded to relay in some detail the story of how she was working at the Moviestar Topless club, about the regular customer there who she only knew as ‘Sammy the Lawyer'. She told them about reading the message from Elijah Smith that Elijah Smith was dead, about how all of the customers were checking out Myra, about the laptop with all of the little lights and attachments, about Frieda at the bar, and about having been asked to dance for the little computer. She told them how Myra had given her $700 that day and asked her to babysit Sammy and how she ran out after Sammy to do what she had promised to do.
On the far side of the restaurant, Josey Cruz, sitting alone enjoying his own prime cut of beef while pretending to read a magazine and listening through a tiny earpiece, chuckled to himself as he imagined Kitty, in full stripper garb, running after the drunk attorney.
Meanwhile, Hermelinda brought Dr. Bayron down to the infirmary which had been built specifically for Elly Smith at the SmithCorp Building. She was glad it was being put to good use again as she led the doctor to the hospital-style bed. She cradled his head in her arms and pulled it to her chest in a warm, maternal hug. Bayron was distant and non responsive to her gesture. Hermelinda said, "Stay here and rest for a while, Doug. I'll come back with some lunch for you, okay?"
Dr. Bayron looked past her and nodded.
As Hermelinda left the room, Bayron slipped his shoes off and stretched out on his back on the adjustable bed and fixed his eyes on the ceiling above him. I'm not the same, he thought to himself, I'll never be the same. He did not know if he would stay awake or fall asleep. Neither option seemed attractive to him.
"It's nice to have a room mate, Doug." Smith's voice, ever becoming more refined and human, sounded from the speakers.
Bayron was startled by the voice and turned his head. "I forgot you were still plugged-in to this room," Bayron said.
"Oh yeah, I don't mention it much. Nothing's really happened here since they hauled my body away. Mostly I meet people in my office on the 7th floor now. Alice cleans and reads her romance novels. Hermelinda comes sometimes with the baby to check the equipment and supplies. Still, it is fun to have two sets of eyes and two sets of ears though."
Bayron turned his gaze back to the ceiling. "You told me you were bored," Bayron said, "I guess you weren't kidding."
"Well, I guess its something like island fever. When you run out of places to explore, the mind just invents ways to keep itself occupied. It makes up all kinds of entertaining ideas."
"I have some idea what it feels like to be trapped in your own head," Bayron sighed.
Smith's brain, operating at the speed of light, worked through a number of emotional reactions to Bayron's remark in an instant. There was anger: he cannot even imagine what it means to be trapped in a machine! There was pity: the Doctor is a scared and sick man. There was even some sense of empathy: they were both locked within their own minds; Bayron in his biological mind and Smith in his mechanical one. Smith decided that all of these feelings were valid but ultimately irrelevant.