Qwen said as he got out of the car. He lived alone in a small two-story house just outside of Margaretville. Kevin thought the seclusion fit a man like Qwen. A hound dog, tied near a doghouse on the side, began to bark a greeting.
“You going to bring your dog along?”
“I am now. Somethin’ tells me we’re gonna need all the help we can get. Bring something of the animal’s—a collar, piece of bedding, somethin’ Maggie can sniff and get a hold of.”
“Okay.”
“See ya,” Qwen said and closed the car door. Kevin watched him walk toward his home and then he backed up, turned around, and headed for the institute.
There were no signs announcing what it was; there were only signs warning intruders away. The building, which had once served as a home for the elderly, was bleak and unattractive. Nothing had been done to the landscape except for the construction of a twelve-foot-tall chain-link fence all around the grounds. The agency had chosen the place because it was ideally adapted to what they required. Rooms had been redesigned to fit their needs, and equipment had been brought in. By the time Kevin had arrived, it was ready for the research and the experiments. When he saw how isolated the structure was and how deliberately obscure it had been kept, he was impressed. It gave him a renewed sense of the importance of their work, of how much their value had increased because of the success with the mice. If what they did could become transferable to people, human progress could take a giant leap forward. Everyone knew that a major ramification of that leap was power. Their discoveries, his discoveries, would be as important as the discovery of nuclear fission.
The security guard at the gate came out of his booth. As soon as he recognized Kevin, the guard opened the gate and Kevin drove up to the parking lot by the front entrance. He could see the lights were still on in his laboratory, and he imagined Ann was feeding the animals. His twenty-four-year-old assistant had taken the security breach rather personally. She was a perfectionist, a brilliant mathematician and logician who usually became emotional only over her work. The others had nicknamed her “Mrs. Spock,” after thefictional character in Star Trek. Kevin couldn’t blame them for it. He didn’t really like Ann; there was nothing feminine about her. Her hair was cut shorter than his; her skin was sickly white. She never wore makeup, and the only time he had ever seen her out of that antiseptic lab robe was when she had first arrived. He thought it was possible she slept in it. But she had come highly recommended, and now she was an enormous asset.
After he got out of his car and entered the institute, Kevin walked through the lobby and went directly to Dr. Bronstein’s office. The director had said he’d be waiting in his office. Kevin knocked and then entered. The fifty-five-year-old scientist looked up expectantly from a folder on his desk. His thin, graying hair looked disturbed again and Kevin smiled to himself, thinking how the director often ran his fingers through his hair nervously whenever he became engrossed in a new thought. It was as though he would stroke his brain into becoming more efficient. And wasn’t that what it was all about?
“We’re going to start again in the morning,” Kevin said. “Just Qwen and me.”
“Why just the two of you?”
“He wants it that way.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I think we were told right. He looks damn authentic. He’s pretty smart, too. He’s figured out that we’re not after just any lost dog.”
“How much did you tell him?”
“Practically nothing, but I don’t know how long I can keep him in the dark. Besides, once we find him . . .”
“You have to be careful, Kevin. Can’t expect a layman to comprehend what we’re about.”
“I know.”
Bronstein thought for a moment and then sat back.
“Maybe you’d better take Gerson with you,” he said.
“Qwen wants only
“You going to bring your dog along?”
“I am now. Somethin’ tells me we’re gonna need all the help we can get. Bring something of the animal’s—a collar, piece of bedding, somethin’ Maggie can sniff and get a hold of.”
“Okay.”
“See ya,” Qwen said and closed the car door. Kevin watched him walk toward his home and then he backed up, turned around, and headed for the institute.
There were no signs announcing what it was; there were only signs warning intruders away. The building, which had once served as a home for the elderly, was bleak and unattractive. Nothing had been done to the landscape except for the construction of a twelve-foot-tall chain-link fence all around the grounds. The agency had chosen the place because it was ideally adapted to what they required. Rooms had been redesigned to fit their needs, and equipment had been brought in. By the time Kevin had arrived, it was ready for the research and the experiments. When he saw how isolated the structure was and how deliberately obscure it had been kept, he was impressed. It gave him a renewed sense of the importance of their work, of how much their value had increased because of the success with the mice. If what they did could become transferable to people, human progress could take a giant leap forward. Everyone knew that a major ramification of that leap was power. Their discoveries, his discoveries, would be as important as the discovery of nuclear fission.
The security guard at the gate came out of his booth. As soon as he recognized Kevin, the guard opened the gate and Kevin drove up to the parking lot by the front entrance. He could see the lights were still on in his laboratory, and he imagined Ann was feeding the animals. His twenty-four-year-old assistant had taken the security breach rather personally. She was a perfectionist, a brilliant mathematician and logician who usually became emotional only over her work. The others had nicknamed her “Mrs. Spock,” after thefictional character in Star Trek. Kevin couldn’t blame them for it. He didn’t really like Ann; there was nothing feminine about her. Her hair was cut shorter than his; her skin was sickly white. She never wore makeup, and the only time he had ever seen her out of that antiseptic lab robe was when she had first arrived. He thought it was possible she slept in it. But she had come highly recommended, and now she was an enormous asset.
After he got out of his car and entered the institute, Kevin walked through the lobby and went directly to Dr. Bronstein’s office. The director had said he’d be waiting in his office. Kevin knocked and then entered. The fifty-five-year-old scientist looked up expectantly from a folder on his desk. His thin, graying hair looked disturbed again and Kevin smiled to himself, thinking how the director often ran his fingers through his hair nervously whenever he became engrossed in a new thought. It was as though he would stroke his brain into becoming more efficient. And wasn’t that what it was all about?
“We’re going to start again in the morning,” Kevin said. “Just Qwen and me.”
“Why just the two of you?”
“He wants it that way.”
“Do you trust him?”
“I think we were told right. He looks damn authentic. He’s pretty smart, too. He’s figured out that we’re not after just any lost dog.”
“How much did you tell him?”
“Practically nothing, but I don’t know how long I can keep him in the dark. Besides, once we find him . . .”
“You have to be careful, Kevin. Can’t expect a layman to comprehend what we’re about.”
“I know.”
Bronstein thought for a moment and then sat back.
“Maybe you’d better take Gerson with you,” he said.
“Qwen wants only
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