by Bruce Buff
“I have no involvement with Stephen’s work.”
“I have no idea who called in the tip.”
“Of course, I’ll answer whatever other questions you might have anytime you want.”
A little while later, the police left, saying they’d be in touch.
Looking exhausted and drained, Nancy asked Dan to stay over and sleep on the couch downstairs so that she wouldn’t have to be alone in the house until her parents arrived in the morning. She then rose to get ready for a night that was sure to be without rest.
Before she left the room, Nancy pushed a hidden latch, and what had looked like a fixed panel in the cabinet opened. Reaching in, she retrieved three Moleskine books and the laptop Dan had given Stephen, then said, “Stephen kept handwritten journals. I’d like you to look through them. Neither one of us was completely honest with the police tonight. There was something unusual with Stephen’s work. I’m not sure what it was, but I need to know if it played a role in his death and what he’d want done now. Look around as much as you want before anyone else does.” Nancy said, then handed Dan an index card with usernames and passwords for all the computers in the house. Then she looked knowingly into Dan’s eyes, turned, and slowly trod up the stairs. Dan sat down and started paging through the journals, wondering what he’d find.
Chapter 40
Dan had been at his computer ever since he’d returned from Nancy’s, and it was now mid-morning. Without the passcodes Stephen had used to encode his work on Dan’s cloud-based servers, no one would be able to access Stephen’s work, ever. All of Dan’s attempts to find or guess the passcodes had been futile. And there was nothing on the encoded laptop he had given Stephen in Falmouth.
The only things Dan had been able to access were the data and programs he had copied from the MIT fusion lab two days ago, the day before the explosion. They would undoubtedly be extremely important to many interests, not least of which were US security agencies, but only if they knew about their existence. So far they were of no value to Dan. He had no idea what he was looking at. Even the best fusion energy researchers in the world might not be able to understand what they meant. The text documents used symbols, words, and involved science far beyond Dan’s understanding. Programs were grouped with hundreds of large data files, probably fusion test results and the programs used to analyze them. There were dozens of images of experimental conditions, but they, too, meant nothing to Dan. Finally, in a different set of file directories, were satellite images of areas of the US with colored circles, of different sizes, scattered across them.
At some point he’d get help from trusted experts who could figure out what he was looking at. Now wasn’t the time for that. There was too much else that he needed to understand first.
Dan thought about the videos recorded by security cameras along the path Stephen had last traveled. While Dan was confident he could find and access most of the video libraries, he was reluctant to try, concerned that he would attract attention from security programs that might be active while the investigation into Stephen’s death was underway. He also worried that he might show up in one, despite the precautions he had taken.
Sore from the hours he had spent sitting working on the computer, Dan stood up to stretch, letting out loud groans.
During the night, he had been too agitated to sleep except in brief, fitful intervals. The few times he had lain down and tried to sleep, images of Stephen buried under the stone had troubled his mind. Dan had spent most of the time copying and going through Stephen’s home computers and files. There was nothing of value to be found, as Stephen had cleared off the computers, per Dan’s instructions days earlier.
At first light, Dan had cooked Nancy breakfast. It was still on her plate, cold and barely touched, an hour later, when her parents arrived. After a short period of mourning with them, Dan left before Ava came home. Although he would have stayed if he could have helped, he was relived that he didn’t have to witness Ava’s reaction to the news and her subsequent grief. Few things impacted a child’s present and future as much as the loss of a parent.
On his drive home, Dan had listened to the news. The fire had not been extinguished until 4 a.m., and eight people were presumed dead. The cause of the blast was unknown, though it was far more powerful than anything of ordinary origin. While not yet ruled out, earlier reports of a terrorist attack were considered unlikely. There was no mention of Stephen.
Since finding Stephen, Dan had kept questioning himself. Was he to blame because he hadn’t helped Stephen earlier? Had his attempt to check out Stephen’s HBC work triggered something? If he had noticed the fire earlier, could he have gotten to Stephen right after the explosion, perhaps in time to have helped?
Whatever answers there were, Dan knew what the future held: he had work to do. People were going to be held accountable, and whatever Stephen had died for would be seen through to its end.
Still agitated, Dan jumped up and grabbed the bar mounted on the doorway. He did pull-ups until his muscles burned and he couldn’t hold on any longer. Then he did squats until he couldn’t rise. Anger alternated with sorrow. He repeated the exercises.
Somewhere between an up and a down, Dan remembered that one of the things Stephen had wanted him to do was re-create Alex’s computer setup and see if there was a third set of information. If Dan could find the computer Stephen had used that night, perhaps he could do that and find everything Stephen had done. But he had no idea where to look for it. And there was still the not improbable possibility that Stephen was mistaken or misleading him about what he had really discovered.
At a dead end, exhausted, Dan fell flat back on his couch and resumed looking through Stephen’s journals. They went back two years and had lots of notes, mostly of a personal nature, including the struggle Stephen had undergone with Ava’s illness. Though it would take Dan a while to get through the journals, so far nothing stood out. That changed when he turned the page: at the top were two quotes, reflecting diametrically opposed camps. Dan knew both well. The first was from the Book of Genesis.
The Lord God formed man out of the dust of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.
The next quote was from Richard Dawkins.
The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but blind, pitiless indifference.
The quotes made Dan wonder whether Stephen, too, despite his recently revived religious beliefs, had the same doubts as Dan. Perhaps Ava’s illness had proven too much, challenged his views. Perhaps once she had recovered, in an attempt to regain his faith, Stephen had sought scientific proof for God’s existence.
One thing was certain. One of the quotes was true and the other was not, and the differences meant everything.
While the world was no different than what he’d thought it was days earlier, he knew he was changing. Instead of withdrawing, he was full of fight and resolve, determined to find the truth, wherever it lay. Truth was the first step in holding someone, or something, accountable.
Looking at the table next to him, Dan picked up the cell phone he had given Stephen. The display and keyboard were broken, though Dan was able to press the 1 key, which connected him to Stephen’s voice mail. Dan tried the password he had given Stephen. It still worked.
Dan sat up, pressed the phone against his ears, and from the grave, Stephen’s voice spoke. “Dan, if you’re hearing this, I got myself in way too deep. I don’t have time to explain. Look to be contacted by a person going by the name Galileo. The two of you will figure out what to do with what I’ve started. I can’t say more now. I’m sorry for getting you into this, but I’ve seen God’s handwriting on each of us, you have to believe that. I thought I was meant to find it. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but I did. If for some reason I’m not there for them, please look out for Nancy and A
va. And please forgive me. You’ve been a great friend. Thank you.”
Dan didn’t move. Everything went quiet. Thunder rose in his ears, then went silent again. His skin tingled.
Dan couldn’t believe that what Stephen had said about God’s handwriting could be true, but Dan knew Stephen had believed it. What could that say about Stephen’s state of mind? What he had gotten himself involved with? Stephen had been under tremendous stress and in some way had messed up big-time. And who was Galileo?
Chapter 41
DAY 8
FRIDAY EVENING
Dan and his sister sat together in the third row of seats in the funeral home room that held Stephen’s remains. The viewing room consisted of two sides, and the movable partition that normally separated them had been retracted. As large as the area was, it was packed, and a long line of mourners stretched from the casket, along the extended wall, down the hall, and out the door. Stephen had earned the respect and affection of a great number of people, from many walks of life. Each approached the casket with solemn reverence, then either knelt and said a silent prayer or stood and reflected in their own way. After that, they approached Nancy and offered their condolences, which she graciously accepted, fully composed.
Breaking a long stretch of silence between them, Joanna said to Dan, “I don’t know how Nancy’s doing it. I’d collapse after just a few minutes.” They had been there since the viewing had started at 2 p.m., watching people say their goodbyes to Stephen and pay their respects to Nancy.
“You’d find a way to handle it, just as she is doing. You both have a steadfast sense of duty and reservoirs of strength as deep as oceans,” Dan responded weakly, his earlier resolve weakened by where he was and by reemergent doubts. Change wasn’t going to be simple or painless.
“You make it sound easy and natural, like we’re just born that way.”
“I don’t know where it comes from, only that I could use some of it.”
“Dan, a good part of it comes from focusing on others and not so much yourself, seeing what you can do for them rather then your own problems.”
“Right now, I’m going to do everything I can for Nancy and Ava,” Dan answered, coming to realize that what he had let himself become over the years was wrong and that he wasn’t going to be that way any longer.
“I know. You’ve been great,” Joanna said as she tightly grasped his hand in hers.
“The one thing I can’t help them with is any reassurance about Stephen’s fate. In my little time with him recently, I had started to consider that there might be more to this life than I had thought. I almost wanted to find reasons to think that there is joy at the end, that perhaps we really don’t lose the people we’ve loved, that we’ll reunite elsewhere. But then things like this only lead me to doubt again, reminding me that religion is just wish fulfillment against our fear of an immense void of nothingness.”
Joanna put her arm around Dan, squeezed tightly, and said, “Well, at least you’re finally opening up. You might find that more helpful than pretending everything is fine. Questioning is a good start. Keep at it. You may still be surprised where you wind up.”
“I don’t have a choice. There’s a lot I need to find out about Stephen’s death, for Nancy’s and Ava’s sake.”
“Not everything has an answer. Anyway, aren’t you glad that you were able to patch things up with Stephen?”
“Yes, that was good. Now I have to make good on a few other things,” Dan said firmly. The truth was that he felt myriad emotions; the only things keeping him going were his own returning sense of purpose and the significance of what Stephen had asked of him.
Sensing what Dan had implied, Joanna looked at him sternly. “You be careful and let the police do their job. I don’t ever want to attend a wake for you.”
“I’ve got a pretty good feeling that I’m going to be around a lot longer than a number of people would like.” Despite what Joanna said, they both knew that he would do anything but leave this just to the police. There was nothing like giving a person who lived with a big hole in his life, with his capabilities and experience, who felt he had nothing to lose, the motivation and reason to do something important for people he cared about.
With nothing more to say on the matter, they resumed sitting in silence.
Dan thought back to Stephen’s message. Who was Galileo, and how would Dan find him? He wondered about the significance of the name and whether it was a reference to the religious persecution the real Galileo had faced for his scientific discoveries. Or was it more general than that? Was it a reference to orthodoxy in general? Dan had no idea anymore what had been real, what had been misdirection, and what might have been delusion on Stephen’s part.
Dan scanned the room and saw Ava coming in with Dr. Alighieri. He felt he should go over and see how Ava was doing but was reluctant to do so, remembering his uneasy feelings and interactions with Dr. Alighieri. Instead, he looked over to Nancy, who nodded toward Ava. Though hesitant, he nonetheless got up and walked over to her.
This time, when Dr. Alighieri looked at him, he didn’t feel as disturbed as he had before, though he still felt a sense of unease mixed with a desire to know more about her.
Whatever he was experiencing was interrupted when Ava grabbed his hand. Dan picked her up, and she put her head down on his shoulder. “How are you, sweetie?” Dan said softly.
In a quivering voice, Ava said, “I miss Daddy. I want Mommy and me to be in heaven with him.”
“I hope not yet, Ava. So many people would miss you and all the special things you have left to do,” Dan said, giving her a gentle kiss on her cheek.
He looked over at Dr. Alighieri, who said, “She’s very brave. And lucky to have you.”
“Thank you for taking care of her so well,” Dan found himself saying with an earnestness that surprised him.
She didn’t acknowledge his gratitude but said, “How are you doing? I know what a strong and long friendship you and Stephen had shared,” and gently placed her fingers on Dan’s wrist.
Still holding Ava, Dan placed his cheek against hers.“It will always hurt, but you cherish what you had and honor it by continuing to live.” As he said this, something calming and healing seemed to come through Dr. Alighieri’s touch, as though something was acting through her yet also was of her. She didn’t seem aware of it, as though the extraordinary was totally natural to her. Once again, Dan wanted to turn away, only this time it was because whatever she could do to comfort people made him aware of how damaged he was. He was ashamed by his vulnerability and a neediness that he wasn’t normally aware of, one that he felt was unmanly to allow or acknowledge.
“Those are wise words. And please call me Trish,” she answered, finally removing her hand.
Before Dan could answer, the room stirred. Octavio Romanov had entered after the line had almost dispersed. As he neared Stephen’s casket, Nancy moved toward him and gave him a formal hug. After a few quiet words, he sat down in the front row, but not before giving Dan a long glance.
As HBC’s chairman, Octavio was not a passive investor, and the name Human Betterment Corporation was not a marketing gimmick. Octavio meant every word of it. Recruiting Stephen to lead HBC’s genome-based research and product development had been the cornerstone of his efforts. No doubt Stephen’s death had been a huge blow to Octavio on many levels.
Responding to what he thought was Nancy’s cue, Dan gave Ava back to Dr. Alghieri and walked toward Octavio. On the way, Dan had to get around a priest who was making his way to the other side of the room. Dan was annoyed by the priest’s careless navigation.
Reaching Octavio, Dan began to reintroduce himself when Romanov said, “Dan Lawson, isn’t it? Stephen’s death is a terrible tragedy. What a loss for his family and the world. He had so much yet to give to it.”
“Yes, it is. I sure wish I knew what he was doing in that area o
f town or what could have happened to him,” Dan said, hoping it would prod Octavio to share anything he might know about Stephen’s professional relationships that could shed light on what he had been doing.
Without hesitation, Octavio answered, “Nor do I. I thought you might have an idea, but I see that you are as confused by it as I am. I’m sure we’ll know soon enough, but whatever the answer is, it won’t help his family. That is something I hope to be able to do.”
“Of course I’ll be doing the same,” Dan said.
Octavio turned his head toward Stephen’s body. “Good, good. Now, this might be an awkward time to talk about this, but I’ve been thinking about our earlier conversation, and I’d like to engage your services to assess my corporation’s computer security and the attempted breaches. I can’t help but speculate if there was any connection between them and what happened to Stephen. He told me you were the best at cybersecurity, and I’m not confident the police are equipped to deal with it.”
For a brief moment, Dan considered the request. It would get him inside HBC and an opportunity to see what was going on there, and also give him cover to search for the cyber agents who had monitored the HBC network. Yet Stephen had made it clear he wasn’t doing his DNA decoding work there. And working there would limit what Dan could do, while potentially exposing him as well.
“Let me think about it. Honestly, I’m sure I can recommend more capable people to do the work, but let me get back to you. For now, I want to focus on Stephen’s family.”
“Of course, but keep in mind that time is precious; the longer we wait, the less likely it will be that we’ll find something useful.”
“I agree. I’ll get back to you in a few days,” Dan answered, thinking Octavio wasn’t the type of person you closed the door on.
“Good. Now I must go. I do not want to be a distraction, with all that Nancy has to deal with.”
