The Aegis Solution (17 page)

"I have no idea, Wilson. How would I? We just met."

Elias' companion stared intently at him, his gray eyes penetrating deeply. "You're a smart man, Mr.
Charon. Very smart. I have a feeling that you've made a career out of reading people. When you read
me, what do you see?"

Throughout his career, Elias had long ago recognized that there were frequently points in any cover
where you had to decide whether to stick with your story or shift gears. Sometimes clinging to your
original cover was the best option, regardless of how absurd the act of maintaining it became. At other
times, abandoning the pretext, and either adopting another or simply coming clean about who you were,
made the most sense, even if the motivation to do so was apparently weak. Occasionally, breaking cover
was the appropriate thing to do for purely utilitarian reasons. Elias decided this was one of those times.

Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. "Wilson isn't your real name." Elias paused for a moment to
watch for a reaction to his comment. There was none, so he continued, "I'm not exactly certain what
you did, but you are well educated, extremely so. My guess would be the sciences."

Again no reaction other than a very slight, wry grin.

"You were successful in what you did. Probably made quite a name for yourself. And you were used
to having a lot of people and resources at your disposal. You liked to solve problems but became bored
with the day-to-day running of things, and you've developed quite a contempt for humanity."

The subtle grin filled out into a full smile. "Not bad, Elias. Not bad at all."

"Are you going to tell me who you are?"

"Not are, were."

It was Elias' turn to smile. "Okay, who were you?"

"John Wilson Chapman."

The moment he heard the name, Elias recognized his features. The entire biography of the man
tumbled into his mind. John Wilson Chapman, thirty years ago, had been at the top of his field in
mathematics. In addition, he had won a Nobel Prize for his work in the area of pattern recognition, and
he had been the leading and, at times, vicious opponent of Chaos Theory, believing and maintaining at
every opportunity that Chaos Theory was nothing but the scientific community putting a fancy title on
the fact that they did not understand something.

He became quickly renowned for discerning the most esoteric and subtle patterns in areas
theretofore considered to be too chaotic to predict. Whether it was the stock market, Internet routing,
ocean currents, turbulence within the human heart, or the weather, he seemed to relish the chance to
unravel the apparently hopeless, tangled balls of yarn in a variety of fields and disciplines. As a result
he became both famous and wealthy, only to gradually recede from the public view and consciousness.

Elias stuck out his hand and said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Wilson accepted the handshake. "Of course, the normal turn of the conversation would be for me
to inquire and for you to supply your identity to me. But I am not quite certain that you have reached
the point with me where you would be completely forthright in your answer, and I am enjoying this chat
too much for it to be spoiled by dissembling."

Elias only grinned, saying nothing.

With a soft sigh, Wilson continued, "All in good time, I suppose. But to continue my thought,
when I first began to notice all of the changes in society against which I have been railing, I chalked
them off as the normal evolution of technology, à lá Alvin Toffler. But over time, as I observed and,
in many cases, facilitated these so-called advances, I began to feel differently."

"How so?"

Wilson's eyes once again swung away from Elias and stared out into the jumble of foliage. "Why
do you think I've created this environment for myself?"

Elias shrugged. "Trying to recreate some childhood setting?"

Wilson laughed. "No, hardly that. I was raised in Las Cruces. It's literally the way my mind has
always worked. From a very young age I was fascinated with patterns. I remember, as a boy, sitting for
hours watching the apparently random ramblings of ants around their hill, until I was able to discern
the subtle plan behind their routes and movements. I wasn't happy until I could accurately predict what
they would do next. The same was true with everything around me, so much so that I never married."

"I don't understand."

"You don't? It's simple, really. Even as a teenaged, hormone-driven boy, I studied the dating and
mating patterns of all of the boys and girls around me in high school, until the dependable chain of
cause-and-effect actions became clear. The unfortunate by-product of this was that I developed a feeling
for females that was anything but conducive for romance, love, and marriage."

"Contempt?"

"No. Let's call it a distaste for the process. This process, like everything else, has been devalued.
I found females to be far too predictable, too easy to manipulate. Not that I intend for that comment
to sound as chauvinistic as it does. My comments apply to males, as well. Regrettably, I found it difficult
to find a woman I could view as my equal, my partner."

"I think I understand."

"I'm sure you do. But to continue, I never developed an aversion to patterns. Instead I craved them.
I sought out more and more complex sets of variables merely to satisfy my curiosity."

"So the jungle you've created around you here is a challenge?"

Rolling his eyes dismissively, Wilson replied, "No, not a challenge. But it is something, as opposed
to a void. At least the plants grow and change and interact and die and give birth. At least there is a
relatively complex system which, most important, is ever-changing."

"I get it. Living inside the complex, with its static structures, furnishings, and such would bore you
instantly."

"Bore is far too understated for the effect it would have. You see, what society has called my ability,
my gift, is probably an unmeasurably rare and undiagnosed mental disease. If I had to spend the
remainder of my time in an apartment, especially one without even a window, I would surely go mad."

Wilson stopped for a moment and looked at Elias, as if to measure the impact his words had so far.

"All of that being said, I am now led to my denouement. I was completely immersed in the progress
and the workings of the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries. As I mentioned, I not only
observed, I facilitated the progress. Yet, my mind being what it is, I also studied the underlying patterns,
until the conclusions I began to reach were so disturbing, I had no choice but to extricate myself from
it all."

Elias realized that his entire body was tense in anticipation. Whether it was the surreal nature of the
setting, the nearly hypnotic delivery of Wilson's words, or the almost mythical reputation of the man
himself, Elias was certain that he was on the verge of hearing something of the utmost importance.
"Please, go on. What did you find?"

The mathematician did not appear eager to deliver his judgment. An expression most closely
resembling distaste spread across his face as he continued, "I became convinced that the patterns, all
of the symptoms of progress I've criticized and denigrated here, were not merely the serendipitous
occurrences of an evolving and advancing society but, rather, were the intentional and deliberate
increments of a plan."

As he finished his statement, his eyes were riveted upon Elias, watching for a reaction.

"What plan, Wilson?"

"Why, Elias, I would have thought it would be obvious from my previous comments. The plan is
to carefully and systematically devalue every aspect of life itself for all people on Earth."

Elias was unsure as to what his next comment should be. So much of what Wilson had said earlier
echoed his own theories and beliefs, yet it had never occurred to Elias that it was all deliberate, that it
was some sort of plot.

"I sound like one of those pathetic crackpots, don't I? One of those people who see a conspiracy
behind every event."

Smiling, Elias replied, "There is no better way to neutralize the voices of those who are attempting
to alert the public than to marginalize them. No, Wilson, I don't think you sound like a crackpot, and
you are anything but pathetic. But what is the ultimate purpose of this plan? What's the goal?"

"That," Wilson said with more than a little chagrin in his voice, "I don't know. Maybe you can help
me find that answer."

"Why me?"

"Why not? You're as good a candidate as any."

Elias could not help but be charmed by this man. "I don't think I'll be making any analytical
breakthroughs that you've missed, Wilson."

"Have it your way."

"Do you mind if I ask a question?"

"Please do."

"I understand that it is de rigueur to avoid asking the residents of Aegis why they came, but I can't
help but be curious with you."

With a soft laugh, Wilson answered, "You're wondering why someone...as rich and famous as
I...would want to commit suicide, or at least the modern version of the act?"

"No, not the rich and famous part. Plenty of rich and famous people do it. But why would someone
with your intellect and perceptiveness want to…?"

"Flick it in?"

"Yes."

"I didn't."

Elias started to speak but was cut off. "I did not desire to end it all. I didn't enter Aegis as an
alternative to suicide."

"Then why are you here?"

"I saw it as a refuge. If the developing pattern was global, where else could I go? I was hoping, since
Aegis was cut off from society in so many ways, that it might offer a haven from the
impending…whatever it is that is about to happen. And I am not the only one. I would venture to say
that a large percentage of the entrants to this facility have come for the same reason."

Elias glanced around at the lush vegetation and the ramshackle living quarters. With a tinge of
sarcasm in his voice, he queried, "And how's that working for you?"

Wilson laughed. "At first, not bad. I've been here for several years, and for quite a time I was left
alone. The sheer space of this facility was enough to allow me the privacy I wanted, and the population
seemed quite tolerant of the old kook who wanted to live in the atrium. They didn't mind when I
transplanted bushes, plants, and trees from some of the other atria into this plot to augment the existing
landscaping. There was more than enough finished space for them to not miss the occasional building
material I salvaged from unused portions to use for my shack."

"You said ‘at first.' What happened to change things?"

"My gurse."

"Gurse?"

"As I mentioned earlier, my gift and my curse…I call it my gurse."

Elias chuckled.

"I couldn't help but begin to see the developing pattern within these walls."

Elias, knowing where Wilson was going with this train of thought, nodded.

"It is not at all the same pattern as the outside world is experiencing. It is something very different
and very ugly. And frighteningly rapid."

"I noticed it, as well."

"I'm sure you did."

"What do you see as the timetable?"

The mathematician stared blankly for a while before answering. Elias felt that he was rerunning the
equation or simulation or whatever visualization the man used to arrive at his answers. Finally, he
concluded, "It's hard to be certain. I am not one hundred percent comfortable I've identified all of the
variables, especially the most recent. Weeks. Maybe days."

"Variables? What is the most recent?"

Wilson again leaned back in the conference room chair, tipped back his mug to drain the last of the
tea, and replied, "Why, you, of course."

CHAPTER SIX

"Me? Why am I a variable?"

A full-throated laugh erupted from Wilson. As it subsided, he said, "I asked you when we met if
you thought me a fool. Elias, you are anything but the usual entrant to this place."

"What do you mean? I'm sure there have been lots of guys just like me who have checked in to
Aegis."

Wilson stared hard at his porch companion, his mouth tightly pursed in a look of either frustration
or irritation. Elias was not sure if the scientist was trying to read him, or simply deciding his next
conversational course. "I was right. The pleasantries are instantly spoilt the moment the dissembling
begins. Let me make certain that I understand. You wish me to believe that you are some poor slob who
couldn't stand life anymore, so you decided to check in at Hotel Aegis because you didn't have the
wherewithal to off yourself?"

Elias said nothing, waiting.

"I don't know why you are here, Mr. Charon. And I am certain that if and when you decide to tell
me, I'll be either skillfully misdirected or only partially informed, but I can state one thing with absolute
certainty."

"What's that?"

"You, my newfound friend, most certainly have what it takes to kill yourself."