Chapter 4

Amita and Larry returned just as the session was beginning. Charlie was slumped in his seat and appeared to be dozing, but he looked up as Amita sat next to him. "Hey," he said hoarsely. He paused to take a sip of ginger ale. "Looks like you found the hospitality lounge."

"Yes, and I brought you another ginger ale," Amita said, handing him the cold can. "You're not looking so great, Charlie."

"Thanks," Charlie said, smiling as he pressed the can to his face. "Good thing I'm first this morning."

After an introduction that seemed to go on forever, one of Marshall Penfield's colleagues, whose name Amita couldn't remember, finally introduced Charlie. He rose, and with his computer in one hand and the ginger ale in the other, he took the stage.

"Convergence improvement actually refers to acceleration, whereby you reach reach a degree of accuracy within a series with fewer terms," Charlie began. "Any number of series can be applied to this method. For example, take a Taylor series. You expand the Taylor series about infinity and interchange the summation. One of the limitations of this method is that the sum must be known in this application." Charlie wrote the illustration of the Taylor series in the convergence on the whiteboard. His script, usually done at breakneck speed, was to Larry and Amita alarmingly slow and even sloppier than usual. Amita almost cried out when she found a glaring error, but Penfield had beaten her to it.

"That's k over k minus one, Eppsie," Penfield said, with shockingly little rancor in his tone. Usually Marshall loved jumping all over Charlie; this time, his tone was almost subdued.

"I'm concerned," Larry whispered to Amita. "Charles doesn't make these errors."

"And Penfield isn't usually nice about it," Amita shot back. She observed the young professor carefully, noticing how pale and exhausted he looked. The room was cool, but he looked to be sweating bullets.

Charlie droned on, his voice drained of its usual enthusiasm. "Now, the Taylor series can be further accelerated by the application of the Euler transform. This is a technique I use when attempting to put together information on, say, a serial killer. I don't know who the killer is, but I know who the victims are. There's a mountain of information you acquire in putting together a victim profile; you weight those factors and then you apply them by employing the Euler transform..." Suddenly, he stopped writing and talking, and grimaced. "I'm sorry, I seem to have developed a touch of indigestion. Remind me not to eat at ..." He dropped his marker and grabbed his belly, groaning loudly. He doubled over, dropped to his knees and then slumped to the floor.

Amita sat, staring for a moment, then ran to the stage. "Charlie!" she screamed, kneeling beside him and touching his face gently.

He moaned and turned his head toward her touch. "Amita..." he whispered, then tensed and gasped. "Oh, God, Amita, it hurts."

She became aware of other people surrounding her. She glanced up and was stunned to see the two men from breakfast. One man was talking on his cell phone. "Yes, we'll have the ambulance bring him there, Dr. Cuddy. Are you sure Dr. House... Yes, thank you." He put the phone back in his pocket, and pulled out a badge, which he showed to Amita. "Mike O'Connell, NSA, Dr. Ramanujan. We're taking Dr. Eppes to the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I've already made arrangements."

"NSA?" Amita's voice raised in anger. "Why are you following Charlie? What is going on here?"

"Dr. Ramanujan, you have to understand that Dr. Eppes is a valuable asset..."

"Asset!? Asset!? Agent O'Connell, you have to understand that Charlie is a human being with friends and family who love him very much. What have you done to him?"

"Nothing," O'Connell said coldly. "But we have to protect.."

"...your assets?" Amita said sarcastically.

"...the information that Dr. Eppes has. He has just finished a high level consulting job. We, uh, I'm afraid I really can't tell you any more, but, trust me, we needed to be here." He turned to Charlie. "Dr. Eppes?"

Charlie opened his eyes and looked at the agent. "What?"

"I'm Agent O'Connell from the NSA. My partner, Frank Reid, and I will be staying with you. I'm sure you're aware..."

"Yes, I know the terms of my contract," Charlie said weakly. "And I know what I can divulge..." he grimaced, "and what I can't."

O'Connell put a hand on Charlie's shoulder. "Director Tompkins just wanted to be sure."

Charlie pushed O'Connell's hand away. "You can tell Bob Tompkins that I have never violated the terms..." he gasped in pain. "...of any of my agreements with any agency. And," he paused, biting his lip, "And I will not violate this one."

O'Connell nodded and stood.

Amita scowled at O'Connell, then touched Charlie's cheek. "It's okay, Charlie. He's gone."

"Amita," Charlie fumbled for something in his pocket and handed her his cell phone. "Call Dad. Speed dial 1."

She looked at the cell phone uncomprehendingly for a moment, then opened it and dialed. The phone on the opposite side of the country rang and rang. Finally, the answering machine picked up. Amita considered hanging up. What kind of a message was she going to leave? But she took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Eppes, this is Amita. Charlie's sick. Something with his stomach. The ambulance is on its way to take him to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. That's Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I'm keeping his phone with me, and I'll call you as soon as I know anything more. I'm calling Don now." She hung up and touched Charlie's head. "Charlie? I left a message. What's Don's number?"

"Speed dial 2," Charlie murmured.

She dialed Don's cell phone.

On the other side of the country, Don Eppes was awakened by his cell phone. He forced his eyes open, fumbled for the phone and stared at the dsiplay. He considered letting it go to voice mail, but then he flipped the phone opened and growled, "Charlie! Don't you realize you're in a different time zone?"

"Don?" he heard Amita's quavering voice. "It's Amita. Charlie's sick and I ..." her voice broke.

"Amita," he said gently. "Take a deep breath and tell me the whole thing from the beginning."

He heard a sniff and a sigh. "First I want to tell you the ambulance is on the way. They'll be taking him to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. I left a message for your dad already. Now, from the beginning. I went to get Charlie for breakfast, and he looked and felt like... well, not very good. We just assumed it was because of all the White Castle burgers he'd wolfed down last night. But then while he was doing his presentation this morning, he collapsed. He's ... he's in so much pain, Don." She paused, and Don could hear her sniffing. "But, Don, there are two NSA agents here. They've taken over, and I don't know what to do."

In the background, he heard a man's voice, "Dr. Ramanujan. Who are you talking to?"

Amita said, "This is Special Agent Don Eppes. Charlie's brother."

"Let me speak to him," the man said. Don heard Amita's protest, and then rustling as the phone changed hands. "Agent Eppes?"

"Yes?" Don said warily.

"I'm Agent Mike O'Connell, with the NSA. I don't know if you're aware, but Charlie does some consulting for us..."

"I'm aware. He was working for you last week, right?"

"How did you know? He was told..."

"I put two and two together, O'Connell. My brother is in DC for a week, then he passes out in Princeton and the first people on the scene are NSA agents. It doesn't take a rocket scientist."

"All right," O'Connell said. "Listen, Agent Eppes, we're concerned about Charlie, not just as an asset, but as a person. He'll get the best care available. The hospital we're taking him to has the best diagnostics department in the country, if not the world. He'll be in good hands. And you are welcome to come out here and be with him. But because of the information he has, I have to tell you that one of us will be with him every step of the way, too."

"Then you'd better learn to be a little more polite to Amita. She and Charlie are very close. Knowing her, she will be with all of you every step of the way."

O'Connell snorted. Don could hear the smile in his voice when he continued. "I'll take your advice, Agent Eppes."

"Okay, now can I speak with Charlie?"

O'Connell hesitated. "He's in a lot of pain... But I'll see if he can talk." Don heard O'Connell say something to Charlie and heard Charlie's voice.

More rustling on the phone line, and then Charlie spoke, "Don?"

"Charlie, Buddy! What's going on?"

"I don't know," Charlie said weakly. "It hurts, Don. I don't know what's wrong..."

"Okay, Buddy. I'm going to try to get there today. You hang in there, okay?"

Charlie gasped, then said, "I'm trying, Don."

"Okay. I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me back to Agent O'Connell."

More rustling, and O'Connell came back on the line. "Yes?"

"Agent O'Connell..."

"Call me Mike."

"Okay, Mike, I'm going to try to get there today. I've got to call our father and let him know what's going on."

"Okay, Agent Eppes..."

"Don."

"Okay, Don. I'm looking forward to meeting you. I just wish it could have been under better circumstances. Those who have worked with Charlie speak very highly of him."

Don got the address of the hospital, along with Mike O'Connell's phone numbers, then hung up to call his dad. As he expected, Alan was in a panic. "Donnie! I've been trying to call Charlie's phone. Did Amita get ahold of you?"

"Yes, Dad. I was on the phone with her. I spoke with Charlie too. He's really hurting. They have no idea what's wrong, and an ambulance is on the way. They're taking him to the best diagnostic team in the country. Amita will be with him. And I'm planning on getting out there today if I can."

"Make two reservations. I'm coming with you."