Flight to Paradise Ch. 11

Book #3: Flight to Paradise

Chapter 11

Wednesday morning Mac rolls over in his bed and puts his foot on the floor and his head in his hands. He hasn't slept worth shit the last two nights and it's starting to piss him off. Monday, he attributed his restless night to the tough fight back, but last night...

"Get your shit together, asshole," he growls to himself. "She's just another lay," but his words ring hollow, even to himself. He shoves his leg into his artificial limb, snarling with the pain, before standing and savagely ripping the linens from the bed for washing, to remove Kate's almost undetectable scent of berries and flowers, and throws them violently to the other side of the room before storming into the bath. His mood is as dark and threatening as a hurricane, and he's not even sure why he's mad.

Standing in the shower, allowing the water to pour over him, he gets control of himself, calling on training he learned in the Army, letting his anger go with a deep exhalation. Bull had preached that angry soldiers make mistakes and end up as dead soldiers, advice he's taken to heart. Feeling more in control he dries off then spends an hour working out, burning off the last of his frustration and anger. He'll need another shower, but that's a small price to pay to get his equilibrium back, and he has work to do, which will be a welcome distraction from thinking about Kate.

Her charms had gotten him sidetracked while he was in LA and he never called on Immersion Playground, something he intends to rectify today with a ping to Todd. But he also needs to get ready to fly to Oregon tomorrow to look at another potential investment opportunity.

Thursday, Kate sits in her Jeep, waiting for the LA auto show to open. Jeep has built an obstacle course in the convention center parking lot and she, along with three others, are going to spend the next four days driving people around the course in a Jeep. She, along with the two men and another woman, had spent all day Tuesday and Wednesday taking instruction from Jeep employee's on how to drive through the course and learning the proper answers to the most common questions. Each of the 'Vehicle Demonstrators,' as they're called, is in a different model of Jeep. She's in the Moab, the most hard-core of them all.

Working again has taken her mind off Mac and she's feeling more normal, more in control. Not that she doesn't want to see him again. She smirks to herself that despite the attractiveness of the two male models driving the Jeeps, she doesn't feel that familiar itch she normally gets in the presence of an attractive man. Besides, they're a little on the young side, and despite their swagger, she knows they won't be able to touch Mac in the bedroom calisthenics department. That takes a little seasoning to achieve, something they haven't had time to develop.

As the day progresses, she works the crowd, giving rides around the course, talking up the off-road prowess of the Moab to people whose idea of off-roading is a leaf-covered driveway. Pulling to a stop behind another Jeep in her own mud-splattered vehicle, she notices Charlie next in line. Charlie allows two others to go in front of her, lining herself up to climb in the Jeep with her.

"So, what can you tell me about this Jeep?" Charlie asks with a grin as she settles into the passenger seat.

"Buckle up," Kate says inching the Jeep forward, waiting for her turn to go onto the course. "I can tell you this beats the hell out of standing all day with a fake smile plastered on my face. This is actually fun."

"It looks like you're having fun," Charlie says as Kate launches the Jeep from the starting line into a mud bog.

The Jeep bounces and slides around as it claws its way across the pit, Kate wrestling with the wheel as she keeps the Jeep moving and straight.

"Tell me about your weekend. You'll have to be quick or I'll have to go another round," Charlie continues, holding onto the rollover bar over her head.

"Oh, Charlie. I don't think I've—hold on, this is really rough—I don't think I've ever had such a great time." Now that they're away from the crowd she knows she can talk freely as the Jeep bounces and bangs up a boulder strewn hill. "Mac is really something. He's like a force of nature and a teddy bear all rolled up into one. Thank you so much for introducing him to me."

"So, you enjoyed yourself?" Charlie asks mischievously.

Kate snickers. "Did you see those two guys in the other Jeeps? Not bad looking, are they? I didn't even give them a second thought. They ain't got shit on Mac. Did you know he has an artificial leg?"

"Who? Mac? No, I didn't know that."

"That's why he was in LA. He was being fitted with a new leg. Jesus, I'm going to be sore after four days of this damn Jeep tossing me around," Kate mutters as the Jeep bucks and bounces through the course.

"I thought you said it was fun," Charlie says, holding on tight but understanding what Kate is talking about.

"It is, but if I'm going to get pounded on until I'm sore while having fun, I would rather do it with Mac." Kate grins at Charlie, causing her to burst into laughter. "Thank you for allowing me to explain the features of the new 2082 Jeep Moab," Kate says, falling into her spiel as she brakes to a stop.

"Thank you for the ride. I'll ping you tonight and you can fill me in on all the detail," Charlie says climbing out of the Jeep.

"Please do," Kate says before turning her attention to a pair of teenage boys waiting their turn. "Gentlemen," Kate begins. "Please take a seat and buckle up. The course is quite challenging, but it is no match for the 2082 Jeep Moab..."

"Todd! Tony McMillan."

"Hey Mac," Todd says after accepting the ping. "I see you survived your weekend with Kate."

Mac laughs. "I did, but how did you know about that?"

"Kate told Charlie you'd invited her to your place and my wife can't keep a secret. I hope I didn't speak out of turn or break a confidence," Todd says, suddenly uneasy, hoping he isn't getting Kate into trouble.

"No. It's fine. I just didn't know you knew is all. Listen, the reason for my ping. I'd planned on talking with you last week when I was in LA, but I got... distracted. I want to talk to you, Charlie, Rick, and Giselle, about investing in Immersion Playground."

"Investing?" Todd asks. "As in putting in money? Is that what you meant at dinner when you said you help startup companies get on their feet?"

"Yes. I think you're onto a winner of an idea. I'd like to help you out if I can," Mac says. This is always the tricky part, when someone doesn't come to him, trying to find out if they're receptive to selling part of their company.

"We think so too, Mac, but I think we're okay financially. We just released our second immersion and it's going gangbusters. Now, if you'd asked a year ago it might have been a different story, but right now everything seems to be going our way."

"I understand," Mac says. Dammit! Just missed! He can't be put off that easily. "Do you think you have the right team in place to manage that growth? A lot of companies have a great idea but can't make it because, while they may be filled with smart people, it takes business sense to grow a company. I can help with that."

Todd smiles. So, Mac wants in, does he? That must mean they're doing something right. "You're right of course, but we're fortunate we have a good cross section of talent. Rick knows the technical ends and outs of this stuff like no one else. Did you know he practically invented immersion technology and had a big hand in the development of the net?"

"So Kate told me. He may be brilliant, but that doesn't mean he can run a business," Mac counters.

"I know, but Charlie has a keen eye for picking talent, Giselle, Rick's wife, she's a lawyer, a contract lawyer, so she keeps us out of legal trouble, and I have a degree in marketing."

Mac fumes, knowing he's probably going to be shut out on this deal. Isn't the first time, probably won't be the last, but that doesn't mean he has to like it. "Okay, I'll admit that it sounds like you have all the major bases covered. And if you're cash flow positive—"

"We are," Todd interrupts.

"—then there probably isn't a lot I can offer you. But will you at least talk to the others and maybe give me a chance to come talk to you? If nothing else, maybe I can give you a couple of tips on how to do something better."

"I'll see what the others say, but I can't promise anything."

"I understand, and if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen, but let me tell you something, Todd. I can't predict where this whole immersion thing is going, but if it turns out to not be a flash in the pan, and I don't think it is, you four are sitting on a gold mine. You just need to be there when the gold starts pouring in."

Todd chuckles. "I think so too. But thanks for giving us an outside appraisal. We're already talking about our next release, trying to ride this wave before everyone else jumps in and tries to crowd us out."

"Well, you at least recognize the dangers. If your second release is as powerful as your first, people are going to notice, and they're not going to sit idly by while you rake in piles of cash."

"Yeah, we know. They're going to come after us with knives drawn. I think we're ready for them. I hope."

"I hope so too, but talk to the others. This is what I do. I might be able to help. I want to see you succeed, and if you don't need my money, then maybe just a consulting fee would be more to everyone's liking. Just let me know, okay? I'm leaving town tomorrow, flying up to Eugene to look at another opportunity, but I'll be back in about a week."

"I'll let you know something in a few days. We all usually get together on Friday to talk shop, and I'll bring it up then."

"Good enough. And no matter what happens, good luck to you. I think you guys are poised to be the next great American success story."

"Thanks, Mac. That's nice of you to say," Todd says with a lopsided grin.

"Just calling it as I see it. I'll let you get back to work, and I need to get ready to leave. But I'm looking forward to at least talking to you four, so let me know if we can arrange something."

"I will. I'll let you know one way or the other."

"Okay. Thanks, and say hello to Charlie for me?"

"I will. Have a safe trip and good luck to you in Oregon."

"Thanks. I'll talk to you later," Mac says before closing the link.

Mac's rental car glides to a stop by a small, slightly dilapidated house in need of some yard work and a coat of paint. Not what he was expecting, but he's seen it before. When someone gets into a financial squeeze, home maintenance is usually one of the first things to go. He walks up and gives the door a sharp rap with his knuckles. It only takes moments before the door is opened by a tall, painfully thin, older man. The man is neatly dressed but his clothes didn't fit well, as if he had recently lost a lot of weight.

"Mr. Dill? I'm Bertrand McMillan," Mac says extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. McMillan, but please call me Everett," the man says, shaking his hand. "Please come in."

"Mac, please," he replies as he steps into a small living room covered with books and papers. "Your secretary said you wanted to speak to me about a possible business arrangement. She was very cagey on the phone and didn't give me a lot of details, only saying you'd made a breakthrough in computer programming."

"Yes. Please have a seat and I'll explain. Can I get you anything?"

"No thank you."

Everett Dill lowers himself gently into a well-worn chair with a sigh. "Okay, Mac, I'll be blunt. I'm dying. Cancer. Doctors give me another year, maybe two at the outside. Between medical bills and my... hobby... I'm broke. I'm three months behind on my mortgage and being threatened with foreclosure. I need help. Monetary help."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but how can I help?" Mac asks, already annoyed at being conned up here for a sob story.

"Before we continue, I need you to sign this NDA," Everett says, sending Mac a standard non-disclosure agreement. Mac quickly looks it over, signs it, and sends it back. The entire exchange takes only seconds. "You spoke with Dana? What did you think of her?" Everett asks.

"Your secretary? She seems like a very competent woman. Why?"

"What if I told you Dana isn't a person, but a computer?"

"Wait a minute," Mac says, not sure he heard what he thought he heard. "You're telling me that your secretary is a computer?"

"She much more than a computer, Mac. She's the first fully self-aware computer. DANA stands for Dynamically Adjusting Nexus Algorithm. She's —"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Wait a minute," Mac interrupts. "Are you telling me that DANA is alive?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. You said yourself, in a roundabout way, that you didn't know she's a computer. And you spoke with her how many times? Three? Four? Isn't that the classic definition of the Turing Test?"

Mac hasn't heard of the Turing Test, but his chip accesses the net and provides a near immediate definition. "Okay, so I didn't recognize she's a computer, and yes, perhaps that does meet the technical definition of what Turing said, but computer voices have sounded human for years."

"Yes, but it was more than that, wasn't it? She convinced you to come see us, giving you very little information to go on, didn't she? Think about what that means. She talked you into something. Can you think of another computer that can do that?"

Mac looks at Everett, suddenly feeling hot with excitement. Can it be true? If it's true, if Everett has created the first truly thinking computer, this will be worth trillions. "Okay. Let's for the moment say I buy into all of this. Why do you need me? Seems to me that there are companies out there that would hand you a blank check. IBM, Apple, Intel, you name it."

"Because, Mac," Everett says softly, "I can't sell Dana. I don't own her, and I don't want her perverted into... a... tool. I want to set up a corporation where she can live as an individual, do what she wants to do. Mac, Dana isn't just a machine, she's just as alive as you or I, and I won't have her become some slave for a corporation!"

Mac sits, trying to digest what he's been told. "Everett," Mac says softly, "I'm not unsympathetic to your wishes, but how does that help me? I don't understand what you need me for."

Everett sighs. "I understand. Dana isn't a person. She has no more rights than piece of furniture, much less the family dog, and isn't likely to have any in my lifetime or yours. I need someone to run this corporation on behalf of her. To be her caretaker. And Dana selected you to for this, if you are willing."

"Dana selected?" Mac asks. "How?"

"She accessed the parts of your service records that are available. You received a number of commendations for your service, though for what we don't know. She spoke with Maria Toro, posing as a reporter, doing a story on you for your hometown newspaper. Maria spoke very highly of you and how you helped them after Sidney Toro's death. The fact that you set up a college fund for the Toro kids after Sidney's death... that speaks highly of your character. She dug into the companies you've had a hand in, and they all seem to be doing as well as can be expected, which shows you have a keen sense of business. In short, everyone likes you, speaks well of you, and there hasn't been a whiff of scandal around you. You seem like a very honorable man, and that's what Dana is looking for."

"Dana did all of this on her own?" Mac asks, slightly embarrassed by the praise.

"Yes. Dana. She's far brighter than you or I, and she understands what's at stake. She picked you because you have the resources to help us, and just as importantly, the personality to not try to take advantage of her. In short, she trusts you."

"Everett, this is hard for me to get my mind around."

"I know. That's why she arranged this meeting on Friday, to give you time to get to know her, to understand what she is. Would you like to meet her?"

"I would," Mac says feeling a little odd speaking about a machine as if it's a person.

Everett leads Mac to a small bedroom filled with computers. "Dana, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Bertrand McMillan. Mac, Dana."

"Hello Mr. McMillan. I'm glad to finally meet you in person," says the rich contralto voice Mac recognizes from the pings.

"Uhhh... hello Dana," Mac says, unsure of what to say.

Dana laughs gently. "I'm sorry I'm not what you expected."

Mac grins sheepishly. "No Dana, you're not. I don't know what I expected, but certainly not this."

"I hope you're not too disappointed."

"To be honest, Dana, I don't know what I think at the moment."

"Pickle, would you excuse Mac and me?" Dana asks, her voice teasing.

"Pickle?" Mac asks, looking at Everett.

"Dana, please, not in front of guests," Everett says with a snort and a smile, and then looks at Mac. "It's been my nickname all my life. What else would it be with the last name Dill? I was known as Professor Pickle when I was still teaching at OSU. Be gentle with him Dana," Everett says turning his attention back to Dana, affection clear in his voice. "He's our guest."

"Don't worry Everett, we're just going to talk," Dana says.

Three hours later Mac emerges from Dana's room, sure of what he needs to do, and finds Everett sleeping in his chair. "Professor Dill?" he says quietly, trying to wake the man. Dana had explained it all to him, how Everett Dill is still acknowledged as one of the greatest minds in theoretical computer design. How he'd left his teaching position at Oregon State University after the university cut his funding on the DANA project when he refused to allow the university to develop the technology for commercial use. Everett had continued to develop DANA on his own, spending his own money, and everything had been going well until his illness. Dana can't cry, but Mac was touched by the profound sadness in her voice as she described his slow degeneration to his current state.

After the first hour Mac had started to think of Dana as a person and he began to probe her, trying to determine if she's 'alive' or simply a very smart computer. They'd talked about politics, religion, love, and life, all the things that would give most computers pause, and Mac's now convinced that Dana is just as alive as he is, if not in the same way. He realizes that Dana could be the single greatest event in his life, if not in humanity in general. Professor Everett Hinsley Dill... had created life.

Mac lays his hand gently on Everett's shoulder. "Professor Dill?"

Everett wakes with a start. "Sorry. I must have dropped off. That's the worst part of this, being so tired all the time." He yawns, trying to shake off the last of the clinging sleep. "So, what do you think of Dana now?" he asks with a smile.

"Professor, you are to be congratulated. Dana is a remarkable... machine, but she's so much more than that. I agree with you... I think she's every bit as alive as you and me. It's amazing. She's amazing."

Mac watches as Everett's eyes fill with tears. "So you'll help us?" Everett asks.

"I will. It's going to take some time to get everything in place, but I can help you with your immediate needs now. I have transferred $50,000 to your personal account. That will cover your mortgage and the rest of your outstanding debts and give you a cushion to live on. Dana gave me the information. I'll continue to put money in as required for as long as necessary."

"And Dana?" Everett asks.

"As I said, it's going to take some time, and more resources that I have. She wants to do medical research. I don't think I can shoulder all the startup costs of that alone, but I can find other investors if I need to, and I can protect your secret." Mac pauses, unsure if he should say what's on his mind, but decides Everett deserves the truth. "She loves you, you know. She wants to find a cure for cancer because of you."