Collective Mind

by Klyukin, Vasily

  “You mean to tell me you didn’t say anything at all to each other?”

  “He muttered something. The screwy freak but I didn’t listen to him. I just wanted him to shut up quick.”

  “Did he give you anything at all?”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Maybe he did and you don’t remember?”

  “How could I not remember? I came home afterwards. They gave me back my things. If he’d given me anything while I was out of it, I would have found it afterwards for sure.”

  “I don’t have anymore questions. On behalf of the police, I apologize for the incident once again. I hope you’re well already and your sister recovers. Here’s my card and if you remember anything, call me.”

  Isaac left the police station in an excellent mood, thinking the devil wasn’t as black as he was painted. He went into a café two blocks away, where Bikie was waiting, told him everything in brief and handed over Pellegrini’s card. Bikie decided to look up just who this commissioner was.

  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.

  Chapter two

  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 h
is 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.

  Before he entered the luxurious house, Isaac switched on the web camera that Bikie attached to his sleeve. He said hello and immediately blurted out:

  “How are you doing? Still sitting here, turning musty? Look, I’m going to Paris, so I decided to ask you to come along. Would you like to go to Paris, bro? Just imagine, the evening, the Eiffel Tower glimmering with sparks of electricity, you and me sitting in a street bar with a beer. Like in the good old…”

  “Hi. Isaac. Thanks for the invitation, but no, I don’t want to go,” said his old friend, greeting him with a smile. “Come in!”

  “Aw come on, I can see you want to!” Isaac thought maybe he ought to pressure Pascal a bit, he might succumb to persistence. He had never tried any psychological tricks before.

  “You can see I want to? Nah, thanks, I don’t. Not really interested,” Pascal said melancholically.

  “I tell you for sure, you are interested. When was the last time you got out of this place?”

  “Ages ago, but why get out? It’s great here anyway,” Pascal replied with a polite smile.

  “No, wait! Travelling is so much fun! Just imagine this: Paris, strolling along, pretty college-girls sitting on lawns with heaps of books. And food! Isn’t it delicious there? Remember that nice little restaurant we found once and it turned out to be simply great? “

  “I remember. But no thanks, don’t hassle me.” Another smile. “Would you like something?”

  “Yes, I would, actually. I would like to know is there anything at all that interests you now.” Isaac was trying hard not to get wound up, but he was already starting to feel angry.

  “I am interested in everything. There’s the TV, there’s food, there’re sports, I can play football. Fresh air. I don’t understand why I should go anywhere.”

  “But it’s Paris, Pascal!”

  “Well, so what? There’s Moscow, too, London, New York. What next, should I travel to all the cities in
the world? What for?”

  “Pascal, this is a specific trip to Paris! And you should be interested if you’re interested in everything, as you say. Let’s go, I guarantee you won’t regret it.”

  The word “interested” was starting to make Isaac feel sick.

  “That’s right, I am interested in everything.”

  “Then let’s just go,” said Isaac, delighted that he had manipulated his friend’s opinion so easily.

  “No.”

  “But why not?”

  “I don't want to, and that’s it,” Pascal replied. “I have to call my administrator.”

  “No, no, no …” Isaac protested, But Pascal was already dialing the number.

  After talking to his “nanny”, Pascal looked at Isaac with the smile still on his face, blinked several times, either in apology or in attempt to force out a speck that had got into his eye, and said:

  “I won’t go. My administrator says that the sanatoriums for Veggies in Paris are worse than in Nice. Want a coffee? The broadcast of the Brazil-England game is just about to begin. Do you want to stay and watch?”

  “Total déjà vu!” thought Isaac, remembering the time Pascal refused to lend him money and sent him to the administrator, and she sent him back to Pascal.

  Isaac made a final attempt, realizing that it bordered on insanity.

  “Pascal, would you like to stop being a Happy and become normal again?”

  “Would I like to? I don’t know. I guess not. Definitely not. I’m happy, everything is just fine. I like my life very much, without that eternal searching for money and the tiny, cheap apartment. I don’t see any point in changing everything back.”

  Isaac was exhausted, he gulped down the coffee Pascal brought him and grimaced. Lousy garbage, Decaf.

  “Have you regular coffee, with caffeine?”

  “Caffeine’s bad for you, Isaac. Everyone’s known that for ages.”

  “Living’s bad for you in general. You keep getting older.”

  “Follow a healthy lifestyle and you’ll live a long time.”

  “You say that as if you’re reciting propaganda.”