"Was your group responsible for Surd being able to control Jessie and the others?" I asked.
I had finished my meal of a double-cheeseburger and onion rings before everyone else had even gotten halfway through their course. I didn't realize how hungry I was.
"In a way," Dr. Earley said. "Jeremiah was donated the technology as sort of a test run. I'm not going to lie and say that it was coincidental that he would use it on you and your family. From what I understood, they were still fine-tuning it. The obvious result showed that there were still some major issues to work out, namely: keep the operator from becoming a vegetable."
Jessie took a small sip of her water and asked, "How is your research carried out?"
"Universities and research facilities, mostly," Dad said. "It's much easier to rely on institutes of learning rather than endure government bureaucracy."
"But why, why go to all this trouble?" I asked. "If you want someone to do something against their will, why does it have to involve blackmail or something like that? Don't tell me there's anything good that ever comes out of this…"
"We do blackmail, Detective; we do what's necessary to achieve the desired outcome. Most of us go to this trouble because we're scientists, first and foremost; we have become disillusioned with the constraints placed upon us by what is deemed 'ethical' and 'unethical.'"
"That's reassuring. You sound like Andrew Ryan from the game BioShock."
Dr. Earley smiled a little, saying, "Yes, well… I personally enjoyed the game, I don't know about you. But have you ever stopped and wondered the motivation behind it? Was Ken Levine trying to express himself artistically or was he trying to send a message?"
"So why not build a city under the ocean?" I asked.
"And who is to say that hasn't already been accomplished? Levine wrote through his character Ryan: 'I believe in no God, no invisible man in the sky. But there is something more powerful than each of us, a combination of our efforts, a Great Chain of industry that unites us. But it is only when we struggle in our own interest that the chain pulls society in the right direction. The chain is too powerful and too mysterious for any government to guide. Any man who tells you different either has his hand in your pocket, or a pistol to your neck.' A truly remarkable endeavor; that is, to rise with the shackles placed upon you in order to pull society in the direction in which it needs to go. That is what I feel my group's goal is."
I countered, "But you're utilizing control against a populace who will resist. How the hell does that work in your theory when all you're doing is replacing 'government' with a vast network of guys and girls with PhDs that can make your average citizen rape their neighbor's dog without conscience?"
"But that's not the goal; the goal is to maintain stability on a global scale. In order to accomplish that, there must be boundaries and adjustments made."
I shook my head, saying, "You're a bunch of insane motherfuckers."
"You may think so," Dr. Earley said. "And, perhaps you're right. Then again, when we're able to cure people of PTSD, to recover suppressed memories, to get nothing but the God-honest truth when it's needed most, maybe, just maybe, you'll see things from a different perspective."
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card.
"The book you found with the girl," Dr. Earley continued. "Was a Dean Koontz book, correct? It's one of my favorites, actually. In fact, Aimee might've mentioned it to you when you interviewed her. You should read it."
"I've been told," I said. "As you've seen I've been busy trying not to get murdered for the past few days."
"I understand completely."
Dr. Earley reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pen. Flipping over his business card, he jotted down a note before sliding it across the table to me.
"When you're ready to find out more, contact me," he said.
I looked down at the card then back at him.
"You're serious?" I asked.
Dr. Earley nodded.
"I didn't drive two hours out here for a lecture on economic and political ideologies, Dr. Earley."
"Jonny, please," Dad pleaded. "There's so much… just so much…"
"Dad…"
"If I may," Dr. Earley said. "Jonny, you want to find out how your mother is involved in this, correct?"
"Obviously," I said.
"Then you need some time for all of this to make sense. Otherwise, you'll end up like my associate."
I gave him a puzzled look.
"Steve is not exactly a warm person, Detective," Dr. Earley said. "He despises love and emotion, preferring instead to maintain a constant state of apathy. Whenever he has to kill he does it out of agony. He's a tormented man that I tried my damnedest to save, but failed."
"So you made him your personal assistant and closet killer?"
"It's easier to keep him on a leash than to leave him to his own devices."
"Are you suggesting that he was the cause of the incident?"
Dr. Earley shook his head, saying, "Hardly. The incident involved an election that occurred earlier this year. It's a long story and this is hardly the place for it."
He looked at his watch.
"I'm sorry Detective, I'm afraid I have to get back to the campus: I have a department meeting to attend. You have my card; please use it when appropriate," he said.
I slipped the card into my pocket behind my cigarettes.
"And how will I know when it's 'appropriate,' as you say?" I asked.
Dr. Earley removed his wallet and paid for the bill in cash.
"You'll know," he said. "Trust me."
"I don't think I have a choice."
Dr. Earley smiled.
"You do, Detective Quest," he said. "You will always, and I mean always, have a choice."