It's July 15th, 2022, and Sarah Walker has finally scored her dream job—working with dolphins at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Socially awkward and academically driven, Sarah's never found love—but when she meets a tech genius whose inventions have the chance to make her research a reality, she finds herself falling for him. Together, their work could change the world … that is, unless someone else gets hold of it first.
Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck…
Chapter 19: At Home in the World
A week had passed since Chuck and Sarah's reconciliation on the beach—and it had been one of the busiest weeks of Chuck's life.
With any luck, the revelation he'd had that night before Sarah had thrown him out would not only deal a deathblow to Bryce's schemes—it would get that asshole out of her life forever. He wouldn't dare bother her again, not with the dirt Chuck had been able to dig up. Their team of lawyers had spent the past few days pulling the paperwork together—and in just a few minutes, everything they'd worked for would come to fruition. In short, Bryce would be called on the carpet—and Chuck couldn't wait.
The revelation had been one of those things that seemed obvious in retrospect—but so much had happened in such a short period of time, he supposed he could forgive himself for overlooking it. He'd been sitting on Sarah's front porch, listening to his lawyer drone on and on about patents and legalities, trying to figure out how they'd wound up in this situation. More than anything, he'd wanted to know how Bryce had gotten ahold of those plans, which had been almost—but not quite—accurate. If the guy truly had access to the specs, they should've been perfect—but they weren't. They were just a tiny bit off, as if someone had reverse-engineered them from a visual representation of the devices.
The idea nagged at Chuck's mind. A visual representation … like a photograph? Had Bryce somehow taken pictures of the Cypher and the Intersect, then had someone—like John Reid, his brilliant engineer—work up specs based on the images?
Chuck had liked John Reid. He didn't want to think that the engineer had been complicit in any part of this mess. But maybe Bryce hadn't told him where the images had come from … or maybe he'd held something over Reid's head, blackmailing or threatening him in some way. Either way, someone had reverse-engineered those plans. How else to explain the tiny inaccuracies?
The more Chuck thought about it, the more plausible it sounded. But how could he prove it?
For some reason, he'd remembered that crazy dream he'd had, where he and Echo and Sarah were all sitting in the Italian restaurant together. "Chuck," the dolphin had said, "just remember to…"
He hadn't thought about that dream since it had happened—why would he? It had just been a bizarre conjuring on the part of his subconscious. But as he sat on Sarah's porch, listening to his lawyer wax poetic about all the ways that they could make Bryce Larkin pay, for some reason the dream stuck in his mind. Had he forgotten something? He had the unmistakable feeling that he must have. There was no way Bryce could've hacked Morgan's security, so there had to be another—
Morgan.
The lawyer was still talking, but Chuck had stopped listening.
How could he have been so oblivious? The AI was always present, always paying attention—its programming was hardcoded to record anything related to the projects it interfaced with, like this one—yet Chuck hadn't even thought to ask it what it made of the mess they were in. Just remember to ask Morgan—that's what he should have done from the start.
He'd hung up with his lawyer, mumbling an excuse, and done just that—and Morgan had floored him with the answers. Shoving his phone into his pocket, he'd rushed back inside, eager to tell Sarah what he'd learned—but of course, that's when the shit had hit the fan.
The next morning on the beach, after they'd made up, he'd finally gotten a chance to tell her how Bryce had managed to pull this off. With each word he spoke, she'd looked increasingly furious. And together, they'd made a plan to exact their revenge.
After they'd put their plan in motion, he'd driven up to Cupertino and met with a realtor, bypassing the interim step of renting his house out and deciding to just put it on the market. Maybe this was rash, but after everything they'd been through, he wanted to make a bold statement to Sarah about his faith in their relationship. He wanted to make sure she knew exactly where he stood, so they didn't have any more misunderstandings.
He'd spent a whirlwind twenty-four hours there, packing up the things he wanted to take back to Monterey and hiring someone to stage the house—though honestly, there wasn't that much clutter to put away. When he stood in the living room and looked around, he was struck by how little of himself the house conveyed. There was a picture of the four of them—his parents, him, and Ellie—on the bookshelf next to the gas fireplace, and a couple trinkets here and there—but other than that, anyone could have lived here. It was nothing like Sarah's cozy cottage, where every piece of furniture, painting, and shell represented something special—a part of her.
Yeah, this had been a house, not a home. And truth be told, he wasn't heartbroken to leave it behind.
He had hated being away from Sarah, even though it was just for one night. When he'd called her from Cupertino, they'd talked about everything—their feelings for each other, their future, and, on a practical level, what to do with the home that they'd soon be sharing. Chuck was reluctant to suggest anything that Sarah might construe as taking over her cottage—she'd put so much effort into making it perfect, just the way she wanted it—but she insisted that their house should feel like what it was … theirs. She was open to repainting it, rearranging the furniture, turning the spare bedroom into his office, or whatever they decided—together. In the back of his mind, he couldn't help but think about the possibility of making it a nursery someday, but he held that thought in check. He was definitely getting ahead of himself with that one—and the last thing he wanted to do was make assumptions … or scare her off.
Instead, he'd told her it wasn't important. Just like she'd been willing to live in a hovel as long as they were together, he could care less where the couch sat in relationship to the easy chair or whether the walls were white or blue. All he wanted was to be with her.
As soon as he'd gotten back, he'd asked Ellie to invite Sarah over for dinner, just to make sure everything was copacetic between the two of them. These were the two most important women in Chuck's life, and having them be at odds wasn't an option. After Chuck had told Ellie what had happened on the beach, she'd easily forgiven Sarah—although she hadn't been able to resist admonishing Chuck that she hoped he'd learned from his mistakes. Sarah had been nervous to see Ellie at first, and had apologized profusely—but his sister had enveloped her in a hug, telling Sarah all was forgotten. The two of them were getting along better than ever, which was good, because Sarah and Ellie—along with Chuck, Laszlo, and Casey—had been working closely together in preparation for sharing their research with the world … the right way, this time.
While their legal team—consisting of the Aquarium's lawyer, Chuck's personal attorney, and Apple's legal department—had collaborated to finalize their legal strategy, the five of them had worked with the dolphins every day. They'd documented their research meticulously, preparing their findings for submission to Aquatic Mammals and Marine Mammal Science, two of the field's top journals. Naturally, Sarah was the lead author on both papers, but the rest of them were listed as co-authors. Chuck had tried to say it wasn't necessary to include him, not wanting to steal Sarah's thunder, but after she'd pointed out that he and Laszlo would lend to the paper technological legitimacy, he'd agreed.
Aside from submitting the journal articles, they had another reason for focusing so intensely on their research—beyond the fascinating nature of the results. The five of them wanted to make sure everything was beyond reproach for the meeting that the Aquarium's attorney, Zondra Rizzo—acting on behalf of the legal team—had arranged with Shaw and Bryce, to discuss DolphinSpeak's purported 'offer.'
Chuck couldn't even consider the word without putting air quotes around it. What Bryce had extended wasn't an offer; it was extortion, pure and simple, and it was illegal as hell. Just thinking about the man made him want to punch something—and he wasn't a violent person by nature. The good news was that the meeting was today—in just a few minutes—so soon, all of this would be over. And this time, Bryce would be the one who'd be taken by surprise.
In preparation for the event, Chuck had outfitted the dive platform with a huge, high-definition monitor and PA system. He'd also invited Manoosh, who was irate about the Cypher's originality being impugned, furious on Chuck and Laszlo's behalf, and only too happy to join them.
Now here they stood on the dive platform, surrounded by droves of reporters—most of whom were gazing into the tank, as mesmerized by the dolphins as Chuck had been the first time he'd come to the Aquarium. Diane Beckman stood to the side, speaking with Zondra, firming up last-minute details. Laz was in conversation with the lawyers from Apple, and Manoosh examined the cymatics rig, scrutinizing the Cypher he'd helped build. The platform was mobbed, so at first Chuck didn't see Bryce and Daniel Shaw when they walked out of the prep room, accompanied by Milton. Only the fact that he stood head-and-shoulders above the crowd enabled him to catch a glimpse of Bryce's profile.
He couldn't help but feel a visceral sense of vindication at the shock on Bryce's face—and Shaw's, too. They'd been told only that this was a meeting to discuss Bryce's claim as well as his offer to rescind the lawsuit—not that the media would be present. Both of them looked appalled.
Well, if they looked appalled now, Chuck could only imagine what their expressions were going to be when the press conference was over. He suppressed a smile; there would be time enough for that later.
"Sarah," he said, touching her arm to get her attention—and then, louder, when she didn't turn, "Sarah!"
Distracted from her conversation with Lou about today's demonstration—what was the point of having the media here, after all, if they couldn't offer proof positive of their research's veracity?—Sarah tilted her head to look at him. "I'm sorry, Chuck. What did you say?"
He pitched his voice to be heard over the steady hum of conversation. "Our guest of honor has arrived."
She stood on her tiptoes to see—and then an unmistakable look of satisfaction crossed her face. "Ah. So he has. Well … I guess it's showtime."
As Diane Beckman made her way through the crowd and up to the podium that the facilities department had set up for the occasion, Shaw leaned toward Bryce. Chuck couldn't hear what the lawyer was saying, but whatever it was, it brought a smile to Bryce's face. As arrogant as the man was, he probably thought the press was here to give formal recognition to his assertions.
Diane made it to the podium and cleared her throat into the mic. "Hello, everyone, and welcome," she said. "We'd like to thank all of you for being here today. I'm Dr. Diane Beckman, the Executive Director of the Aquarium."
The crowd grew quiet as she spoke, the reporters regarding her expectantly. She acknowledged them with a small smile. "Over the past week, there's been a great deal of speculation about what we've been up to here. Our public relations department has fielded a lot of phone calls and emails about whether we've actually devised a way to talk with dolphins—whether we've managed to breach the human-animal communications divide. While I could certainly share the details of our success with you, I think it'd be far more impactful to just show you—but before we do that, I need to hand the mic over to our lead scientist and behavioral cognition specialist, Dr. Sarah Walker."
There was a smattering of applause as Sarah zigzagged her way through the crowd and up to the podium. Chuck had a moment of fierce pride in his new girlfriend. She didn't spare Bryce a glance as she took her place behind the mic—but then again, maybe that was because she couldn't look at him and maintain a straight face.
"Hello, everyone," she said with perfect composure. Gone was the stammering, shy woman he'd met on the beach weeks ago. This version of Sarah Walker was confident and sure, gracing Chuck with a smile that turned his knees weak before she continued. "I apologize that it's taken us a little while to hold a press conference about the exciting work that we've been doing here. To be honest"—she turned her gorgeous smile on the crowd, who seemed every bit as dazzled by it as Chuck had been—"we weren't quite ready to share our good news with the world. In his eagerness to spread the word, Mr. Larkin jumped the gun a little bit—but who can blame him? After all, we're pretty thrilled about what we've managed to accomplish, too. Right, Bryce?"
She waved at him, and the reporters turned in his direction. Bryce preened at the attention, lifting a hand in acknowledgment. The surprise that had marked his face when he'd walked into the room was gone; clearly, he thought this was a celebration, public recognition of the success of his scheme. For a brief moment, Chuck almost felt sorry for him.
"I'll be honest—reading the headlines as well as what's been posted on social media has been a bit overwhelming," Sarah said, bringing the reporters' focus back to her. "Here are just a few samples: Hurrah, Hearsay, or Hoax? Monterey Scientist Claims to Talk to Dolphins. Then there's Dolphins Speak with DolphinSpeak: Entrepreneur Bryce Larkin Revolutionizes the Field of Human-Animal Communication. And my personal favorite, Chatting with Flipper: Monterey Bay Aquarium Partners with DolphinSpeak to Porpoise-Fully Bridge Cross-Species Barrier. As a scientist, can I just say that that last one troubled me—and not for the reasons you might think. You see, bottlenose dolphins and porpoises are actually different species, and here, we work with dolphins. No insult to porpoises meant, of course."
A vibration of amusement moved through the crowd, and Sarah gave a small, self-deprecating shrug. "And these are just a few of the articles, which at least make an attempt to take our research seriously. I made the mistake of looking at a few of the negative stories, as well as some of the memes on social media—well, let's just say I won't be doing that again." She shook her head ruefully.
"Much as we appreciate Bryce's enthusiasm, as scientists, there's a certain protocol we need to follow before making our research public. If he hadn't broken the story to the media, the only outlets we would've shared our findings with at this point would've been peer-reviewed journals. But I guess the cat's out of the bag now—so I feel compelled to tell you one more thing, before the demonstration we have planned for you today." She gave the crowd a blue-eyed look so innocent, Chuck almost believed it himself, paused strategically, then went on: "Almost everything Bryce Larkin told you was a lie."
Pandemonium broke out in the crowd, with all of the reporters talking at once. Some of them tried to address Sarah, while others called for comments from Bryce. Shaw spoke for him, the flush that darkened the lawyer's cheekbones belying his calm tone. "My client categorically denies this assertion. He has been completely truthful in everything that he's shared with you. This is a misguided attempt to undermine his credibility, based on an unfortunate conflict of interest between Dr. Walker and my client—"
Unnoticed by the crowd, whose attention was on Bryce, Chuck stepped up to the podium, as he, Sarah, and Diane had planned. He adjusted the mic to compensate for the height difference, took a deep breath—speaking in public had never been one of his favorite things to do—and cut Shaw off mid-bluster.
"I'm so sorry to interrupt," he said as courteously as he could manage. "I'm Charles Bartowski, and together with Laszlo Mahnovski, the head of Apple's robotics R&D department, and Manoosh Depak, the CEO of QSI, I'm part of the tech team behind the innovations that Bryce Larkin shared with you. What Mr. Larkin failed to mention is that he was never part of our team. In fact, he actively ridiculed the technology that enabled us to accomplish what we've done here." He pointed at the cymatics rig and the case that held the Intersect. "Yes, we have been able to communicate with the dolphins, and they've been able to talk with us, as well. That part of what he told you was absolutely true. It's exciting and groundbreaking—but neither Bryce Larkin nor his company DolphinSpeak played the slightest part in it … which my legal team, as well as Apple's and the Aquarium's, will be all too happy to discuss with Mr. Larkin's legal representation once we're finished here." He gestured at their attorneys, who were standing shoulder to shoulder, looking a bit smugger than was strictly professional.
"This is ridiculous," Bryce said, his tone indignant—but Chuck detected an unmistakable look of panic on his face. "It's slander. It's bad enough that you stole my technology—now you're claiming I'm a liar, too? I'll sue you personally for—"
Chuck interrupted him once again. "I didn't steal your technology. If you're referring to our cymatics rig—which all of you will soon see in action," he said as an aside to the reporters, "the basics of that design are open source, available to anyone on the Internet. Your own employee, John Reid, gave me access to the article where I could find the specs. Yes, it gave me the inspiration for developing the device I call the Cypher—but the Cypher is my own unique design, manufactured by Manoosh at QSI's headquarters. Without it, the cymatics rig—including your CymaScope's visualization cell—would have been useless for our purposes. As for the Intersect—well, for something you claimed to invent, I don't recall you having a very high opinion of it."
"What are you talking about, Bartowski?" Bryce ran his hand through his hair, mussing the perfect strands. Chuck had never seen him look so unsettled.
"Chuck," Diane said, her voice saccharin-sweet. "Would you care to share the footage that you showed me with our guests?"
"With pleasure." He set his phone on the podium. "Morgan, please play the first video in the selection."
A buzz rose amongst the crowd as the AI responded, "Of course, Chuck." He could see the confusion on the faces of the reporters closest to the front as they glanced around for the source of the voice.
Well, there would be time enough to explain Morgan's existence later—after all, the AI was at the heart of the project's success. For now, he contented himself with watching Bryce's face come up on the giant monitor they'd brought to the dive platform for the occasion. Sarah's ex stood in MBARI's lab, hovering over the preliminary version of the Intersect. His voice came through the PA, as clear and crisp as it had been in the lab that day.
"What is it?" he said, raising his eyebrow in scorn. "Kind of looks like a cross between a stuffed animal and a bunch of tinker toys."
Even as he spoke, the video revealed him slipping out his phone and snapping a picture of the Intersect's inner workings. His back had been to Sarah and Chuck—but not to the high-definition cameras hidden behind the eyes of the mechanical dolphin, which had been gazing right at him as Bryce snapped his shot. In constant communication with the Intersect, Morgan had recorded everything—and from the AI's vantage point, it had seen exactly what they needed to prove Bryce was not only a liar, but also a thief.
"That footage is a fake—falsified to make me look bad!" Bryce raised his voice, despite Shaw's attempts to calm him. "You're trying to discredit me—to destroy my credibility. I won't stand for this!"
"Oh, there's no need for me to destroy your credibility," Chuck said. "You've done a great job of that all on your own. And I assure you, the footage is genuine. Morgan, show the next video, please."
The image on the monitor shifted. Now Bryce was holding the Cypher, examining it from every angle before he put it back down on its cradle. "Interesting," he said, sounding as if it was anything but. "Nothing like the visualization cell in my CymaScope. It's a nice idea … but I don't see how it will ever work." He turned away from Chuck and Sarah, facing Chuck's phone—which was sitting on the table, since they'd used it to call Manoosh just minutes before Bryce and Beckman had showed up—and snapped another photo, this time of the Cypher.
Chuck caught sight of Manoosh glaring at Bryce—not that the latter was in any shape to notice. When Chuck had figured out what had happened, thanks to Morgan's ever-vigilant surveillance, he'd isolated the video footage and sent it to Manoosh—and his old friend had almost lost his mind. "That little shit," he'd said. "Never mind that I filed a patent application on the Cypher right away, like I do with all our joint projects—but now he's trying to say this is his design? That arrogant, lying fuck. Let's bury him."
Though Chuck had insisted he'd had it under control—three sets of attorneys were more than enough—Manoosh had insisted on being here for the denouement. He and Laz had actually flipped a coin at the hotel bar last night for dibs on who got to toss Bryce into the tank at the conclusion of the press conference. Laz had won—which, he had insisted, was only fair, since he'd been putting up with Bryce's crap for longer. Next to Manoosh, Laz looked positively gleeful.
Morgan had paused the screen on the damning image of Bryce photographing the Cypher. The reporters stared at it—and as one, they converged on Bryce, each one shouting louder than the next.
"Mr. Larkin, do you maintain this footage is fake?"
"Where was this video taken? Clearly you weren't aware you were being filmed. Is this security footage?"
"Mr. Larkin! What justification can you give us for taking these photographs?"
Chuck raised his voice, leaning toward the mic and speaking over the melee. "As you can see, the technology that Bryce Larkin claims he invented is not, in fact, his—a fact that we have documentation to support. The essential design of the device I call the 'Intersect' is based on a robotic shark that Laszlo and I created some time ago; Apple holds the patent for that one, as well as a license agreement that's been in place for years. As for the device I call the Cypher, as part of my ongoing business relationship with QSI, they file patent applications on my behalf for any such inventions as a matter of course." He inclined his head toward Manoosh, who winked at him.
"Since you're curious about the origin of this footage," Chuck continued, "I'm happy to share that an AI device of my own invention captured all of it. My phone happened to be lying on the table when Bryce walked over to inspect the Cypher, and as for the Intersect, it's equipped with high-definition cameras intended to record its interactions with the dolphins—sort of like a high-tech GoPro . Since the AI was programmed to interface with the Cypher and the Intersect, it perceived Bryce's interaction with them as relevant information and encoded both encounters into its memory. As I mentioned, we have the existing and pending patents to disprove his claim—but now we have the digital footage to prove how he attempted to substantiate it, too."
"This is ridiculous—you can't possibly—" Bryce sputtered, turning to his lawyer. "Daniel, tell them—!"
Before Shaw could respond, Zondra Rizzo spoke up. "Mr. Shaw … expect a thorough investigation as to your fraudulent cease and desist letter. As for you, Mr. Larkin, the Aquarium will be suing you for defamation of character, given that you sought to undermine the credibility"—she accented the words—"of the lead scientist on this project, Dr. Sarah Walker, through your false claims of involvement—thereby potentially risking the project's standing in the eyes of the scientific community, the Aquarium's viability as a research and educational institution, and Dr. Walker's professional reputation. It is my understanding that Apple will be suing you for patent infringement as well as patent fraud. Charles Bartowski's attorney will be suing you for patent fraud and defamation of character as well. Our joint legal team will be in touch to discuss the matter further. As for your unethical offer to drop your suit as long as your name is included in all documentation and publicity regarding this project—consider it summarily rejected by all parties involved."
Bryce's mouth opened, then shut again. For the first time since Chuck had had the misfortune of meeting the man, he looked speechless. He fixed Diane, Sarah, and Chuck himself with a furious look—then spun on his heel and stormed from the platform, followed in short order by his lawyer.
OoOoOoOoO
Silence followed Bryce's untimely exodus. The reporters seemed frozen, caught between chasing him to get a quote about what had just happened and not wanting to miss the demonstration that was about to unfold.
As far as Sarah was concerned, she didn't want Bryce to have a single second of additional attention—even if it was negative. She leaned forward, speaking into the mic.
"Well, that was certainly dramatic! After that little display, I'm sure all of you can see that Bryce's claims were completely baseless. He had nothing to do with developing the technology that enabled us to communicate with the dolphins, and them with us. All the credit for that goes to Chuck, Laszlo, and Manoosh." She gestured to each of them in turn, and the reporters turned to catch a glimpse of each of them. True to form, Laszlo grinned and sketched a salute. Sarah was sure he was elated to see Bryce get what was coming to him; he'd never kept his feelings for her ex a secret, and if he couldn't toss Bryce into the tank, seeing him publicly humiliated was the next best thing.
"And now," she said, unable to keep the anticipation from her voice, "I'd like to share what you've all been waiting for. Let me introduce you to the true stars of the show—Echo, Finn, and our newest arrival, Eden. Chuck, will you do the honors?"
"It would be my pleasure." He pressed something on his phone, activating the cymatics rig, which hummed to life. Then he signaled Laszlo, who unlocked the case containing the Intersect and carried the mechanical dolphin down to the water.
"As you can see," Chuck said into the mic, "that's the completed version of one of the devices Bryce Larkin photographed. I call it the Intersect. It's basically a robotic dolphin that's designed to interact with the dolphins in the tank. There are cameras behind each of its eyes, enabling it to 'see' and record—that's how we got the footage that you saw earlier. We built it to be able to mimic the behavior of an actual dolphin—swimming, diving, breaching, you get the idea. It's also able to communicate with the dolphins via stereo lensed speakers that are installed where a real dolphin's melon would be."
As Laz leaned down to set the Intersect in the tank, one of the reporters in the front of the crowd spoke up. "Jessica Johnson, Monterey Herald. Mr. Bartowski, if I may—how does the Intersect 'talk' to the actual dolphins?"
"That's a great question," Chuck said—and, Sarah thought, the amazing thing was that he sounded like he meant it. He was in his element at the podium, talking about his tech. Despite the momentous nature of the occasion, Sarah couldn't help but find this—and him—adorable. "Jessica, the way this works is that Morgan—the artificial intelligence program I invented—produces the correlated signals that it's learned over time while working with the dolphins. It sends those to the Intersect, which reproduces the signals in the form of whistles, click trains, et cetera, which Morgan then translates and broadcasts via the PA."
The reporter looked somewhat baffled, but pressed on nonetheless. "I see. A follow-up question—how do you know the dolphins can understand what you're saying to them?"
"Another excellent question," Chuck said, looking happier than ever. "There's a short answer to this—and a long one. The short answer is that when we ask them specific questions related to objects in their environment—like, for instance, 'show us the hippo toy'—they respond appropriately. The longer answer is that over time, Morgan's gathered and attributed thousands of data points that correlate to the dolphins' actions and vocalizations, and the AI has been able to isolate the vocalizations, narrowing them down to their exact meanings. There was a lot of trial and error involved."
Another reporter's hand shot up, but Chuck shook his head, forestalling the question. "Honestly, the technical side of things is just one part of this story. The real credit goes to Dr. Walker, who's dedicated years of her life to studying dolphin-human communications, and the rest of her team. My sister, Eleanor Woodcomb, who's a neurologist, also played a role in making all of this happen. It was a group effort—and before you ask any other questions, I think Dr. Walker, Dr. Beckman, and the rest of the team would all like for you to see the project in action. Then, I promise, you can ask all the questions you want."
He signaled to Laszlo, who stepped back from the edge of the tank. He stood beside Lou and Gertrude, both of whom had buckets of fish next to them, ready to reward the dolphins for their behavior.
"Okay," Chuck said, "here we go."
He pressed something else on his phone, and the dolphins' whistles filled the air, coming through the PA system. Simultaneously, the monitor that had displayed Bryce's indiscretions lit up with the familiar fractal-like images.
"If I can draw your attention to the monitor," Chuck said, "the images you see there are 3D visual representations of the sounds the dolphins are making and their locations within the tank. Think of them as sonic fingerprints of individual vocalizations, unique to each dolphin and how they vocalize. We have microphones throughout the tank, and Morgan can tell which dolphin is vocalizing based on where the animal is located relative to the individual mics."
"Roshani Patel, Mercury News." This time it was a petite reporter in the middle of the throng. "It sounds like this AI—Morgan, as you call it—is essential to bridging the gaps between the various devices and making this project a success."
Chuck nodded. "You're absolutely right. As brilliant as Dr. Walker is, the technological aspect of this project would in no way be possible without Morgan."
The whistles that had been coming through the PA system ceased, replaced by Morgan's voice. "Chuck," the AI said in a stage-whisper, "stop it! You're embarrassing me."
A ripple of amusement spread through the crowd. "Did you tell it to say that?" Roshani Patel asked.
"Nope. When it comes to some things, Morgan has a mind all its own. Speaking of which—Morgan, are you ready?"
"Of course, Chuck," the AI said, sounding miffed that Chuck would have to ask. "What would you like me to begin with?"
Chuck looked to Sarah, who gave him a thumbs-up. They'd agreed on the order of the demonstration beforehand, but she still appreciated the fact that he took the time to check in with her before going ahead. Even though his technology had, in some ways, become the center of the press conference, he wasn't ego driven in any way, and he always put her first. The fact that she'd thought for one second that he was anything like Bryce still boggled her mind.
"All right," Chuck said into the mic, for the reporters' benefit as well as Morgan's. "Ask Finn to retrieve one of the objects in the tank. But before you do"—he smiled at Roshani—"why don't we let Ms. Patel choose which one?"
Sarah had suggested this, so that there was no way the reporters could accuse the demonstration of being staged. She'd also thought the sense of interaction would increase the reporters' engagement in the demo—and from the look of delight that crossed Roshani Patel's face, she thought she'd been right.
"Me?" the reporter said, her eyes widening.
"Absolutely," Sarah said, pitching her voice loud enough to be heard. "Why don't you come over here and take a look? There's a pink fish … a blue hippo … and a purple duck. You choose which one you'd like Finn—he's the biggest dolphin, by the way, right here"—she pointed—"to retrieve."
Roshani made her way over to the side of the tank and considered each of the toys while Lou and Gertrud gave hand signals and tossed fish to the dolphins to keep them entertained. "The duck," she decided at last.
"Did you hear that, Morgan?" Chuck asked.
"Of course," the AI said again, sounding more offended than before. "I have not developed a deficiency in any of my auditory systems."
"He sounds like Mr. Spock," one of the television reporters muttered, bringing a wave of laughter from the crowd.
"Mr. Spock, from Star Trek?" Morgan said, brightening. "I'll take that as a compliment. He's very logical. Chuck and I used to watch him all the—"
"Okay, that's enough," Chuck interrupted, his cheeks reddening. Sarah had to look down to hide her smile. "Morgan, please ask Finn to retrieve the duck."
A moment later, a series of whistles reverberated through the PA—and then the male dolphin took off, arrowing through the water toward the duck. Thirty seconds later, he was back, presenting the duck to Gertrude, who was kneeling at the edge of the tank.
The moment Gertrude accepted the duck, another series of whistles came through the PA. Morgan translated, "Gertrude … fish … Finn."
"Good boy," Gertrude said, tossing Finn the fish.
A hush fell over the crowd. Sarah heard one of the reporters whisper, "Holy crap…"
"So now," Chuck said, "we're going to activate the Intersect. Just watch out—as Eden's fond of telling us, it's her favorite toy."
The little dolphin had been nudging the mechanical one, in an effort to get it to play. The moment Chuck gave Morgan the go-ahead to set the Intersect in motion, Eden started splashing the water, diving down and then coming back up again. When the Intersect didn't follow her, she circled back. Her whistles came through the speaker, and then Morgan translated, "Friend … why not play?"
Morgan sent a series of whistles through the speakers, which it promptly translated for them: "Echo, can Eden play chase?"
In response, Eden began to whistle repeatedly, a sequence that Morgan translated as, "Eden play. Mama … let Eden play? Eden play chase … with Morgan."
"Man, she sounds just like my toddler," the reporter who'd thought that Morgan sounded like Mr. Spock said, snorting.
"Eden … play for a little while," Echo said, courtesy of Morgan. "Not too long."
"Eden … happy!" the little dolphin said, its whistles translated by the AI.
With that, the mechanical dolphin took off, leaping and diving, breaching and circling around Eden. The baby dolphin followed, whistling gleefully when she outpaced the mechanical one. Sarah had a sneaking suspicion that Morgan was letting Eden win.
"Wait," the reporter from the Herald said. "Who's controlling that thing?
"Morgan is." Chuck smiled. "This project is the first time my AI has ever had inhabited or … perceived a body. It's hard to say who's having a better time—Eden or Morgan."
Silence descended over the crowd as they watched the little dolphin and the Intersect chase each other around the tank. Finally, a series of whistles sounded through the PA, and Morgan translated for Echo: "Eden, that's enough. Eden … come back."
When Sarah stole a look at Chuck, he was grinning. After God knew how many iterations of 'back come,' the AI had finally gotten it right.
Sarah made her way back to the podium, and Chuck stepped back, ceding control of the press conference to her. "To close out the demonstration," she said, "I'd like all of you to decide—together—to ask one question of any dolphin you choose. Just do us—and them—a favor and keep it simple. Nobody ask them the meaning of life, okay?"
After some murmuring among the reporters, their elected spokeswoman—Roshani Patel—spoke up. "If this is an acceptable question, and not too abstract, we'd like to ask Eden what makes her happiest."
"I think that should work," Sarah said, hoping against hope that the little dolphin's response would make some kind of sense. Concrete questions were far easier for the dolphins to respond to than abstract ones—but if Eden could reply to this, it would lend an additional level of credence to her research. Still, everything was going so well—she'd hate for it to fall apart at the last minute. "Morgan," she said, apprehension curling in her stomach, "go ahead."
Dutifully, Morgan translated the question. There was a pause while Eden considered her response, during which Sarah held her breath: Please, please, please.
Finally, two long whistles came through the PA, and the monitor lit up with an intricate purple-and-blue pattern. A moment later, the AI translated: "Eden … most happy … with love."
Sarah felt tears come to her eyes. This little creature, so innocent and beautiful, was the embodiment of how people should treat each other. She thought of what Chuck had told her about the memories that had flashed through his mind when she'd come upon the two of them at the Aquarium that day—of her own experience with Eden, right before she'd chased Chuck down on the beach—and knew as surely as she'd ever known anything that Eden was pure of heart. If everyone could channel the openness and kindness of this little one, the world would be a far better place.
She stole a glance at Chuck, and saw that his eyes looked suspiciously glassy, too. His gaze locked with hers, and it was all she could do not to throw her arms around him—but that, she reminded herself sternly, would be terribly unprofessional. There would be time enough for that later—all the time in the world.
"So," she said, tearing her gaze from his and clearing her throat, "that's a wrap. We can take your questions now."
OoOoOoOoO
The whole way home from the demo, Sarah couldn't stop smiling. She was alone in the car; Chuck and the rest of the team—Beckman and Casey included, for once—were going to meet her at Segovia's for drinks in an hour and then go out together for a celebratory dinner. And what a celebration it was.
She didn't know what the best part of the afternoon had been—seeing Bryce's face when he realized he'd been caught on camera, or watching the reporters' incredulity as they witnessed Echo, Finn, and Eden communicate with them in real time. The payoff was worth every moment that Sarah had spent toiling in obscurity, being mocked and called a hack by her colleagues. Part of her wished Bryce could've been there to see it—but of course, he was long gone.
Now that he'd gotten his comeuppance, Sarah was able to spare a moment of regret for how things had turned out between them. She still remembered meeting Bryce that first day in her bio class—how he'd flashed her that charming smile and made her feel like the center of his world. For a while, he'd treated her like gold—and been the most important person in her life. He'd been the first one to make her believe that maybe true love was out there for her. Of course, then he'd promptly screwed everything up, and for a long time, she hadn't been able to remember anything but the bad parts … but somehow, knowing he was gone from her life forever—because she couldn't imagine him reappearing after this—had given her the freedom to remember how things had been in those early days. He'd made her happy back then—and she could've sworn she'd done the same.
Being with Chuck, though, had made her see that her feelings for Bryce had been nothing more than what her mother would call 'puppy love.' They'd been based on ideals and dreams rather than grounded in reality. Her love for Chuck was the real thing—they loved each other for who they truly were, flaws and all. She'd never imagined finding a man like him—and now that she had, she didn't ever plan to let him go. Still, looking back, she allowed herself to feel a faint sense of nostalgia for the naïve version of herself who had fallen for Bryce Larkin—and to let go the anger and frustration she'd carried all these years, for not knowing better. She had been young; she had been hopeful; at least she'd had the courage to put her heart out there. If Bryce hadn't messed around with Amy, then who knew—maybe they'd still be together, and she would never have found Chuck. And that, she decided as she made the left onto her street, would've been a tragedy.
She was consumed with the sudden desire to call her mother and tell her about everything—meeting the man of her dreams and the dramatic success of her research, at long last. Her mom had always been there for her, nursing her wounds over summer break when she'd cried over Bryce, plying her with brownies and rom-coms until she'd begun to feel more like herself again. She'd listened to Sarah bemoan her lack of professional recognition for years, never once telling her daughter to consider pursuing another career. Instead, she'd told Sarah that she believed in her—that if Sarah thought dolphin-human communication was possible, then it was just a matter of time until her research bore fruit. Until Chuck, no one had ever been so solidly in Sarah's corner.
She'd been hesitant to call her mother and tell her about her feelings for Chuck. The relationship was still so new, and she'd been terrified something would go wrong. She would've felt terrible if she'd gotten her mother's hopes up, only to dash them again. As for her research, she'd really not wanted to say anything about that until the first journal articles had been accepted for peer review—but Bryce's decision to go to the media had taken that choice away. Her mom had called, wanting to know what the heck was going on, and Sarah had had to tell her the truth—that her success had been within reach, and then none other than Bryce Larkin had showed up, doing his best to ruin everything. To say her mom had been furious would be an understatement. She'd told Sarah in no uncertain terms that if she'd possessed the ability to hex someone, Bryce would be on the receiving end of a particularly vicious spell.
Now, though—things were different. Bryce had been put in his place, Chuck's toothbrush had taken up permanent residence in their bathroom, every journalist at the press conference had been floored by what they'd seen—and Sarah had never felt so happy. That niggling sense of frustrated ambition that had always troubled her, so constant as to go almost unnoticed, was gone. In its place was an unmistakable sense of accomplishment. This was how she'd always dreamed her life could be—a career she loved, a man she adored, and a community where she belonged. It was as close to perfect as she could imagine, and she wanted nothing more than to share her happiness with her mother.
Signaling to turn into her driveway with one hand, she rummaged in her purse for her phone with the other—and then froze.
Sitting on her porch steps, shoulders slumped and chin propped on his hands, was none other than the devil himself—Bryce Larkin.
What the hell was he doing here? Was there no getting rid of him?
With a sigh of exasperation, she dropped her phone back into her purse and pulled into the driveway. As she turned off the engine, Bryce looked up, his eyes meeting hers through the windshield. Sarah sucked in a breath. She'd never seen him look quite like this—lines cut deep around his mouth and his hair mussed, like he'd been running his hands through it repeatedly. His eyes were red-rimmed, as if he'd been crying.
Sarah had been looking forward to chatting with her mother, taking a hot shower, then putting on her favorite dress—which Chuck hadn't seen yet—and savoring drinks and dinner with the people who knew how much this day meant to her. Instead, she found herself in the unenviable position of having to deal with Bryce Larkin yet again—and he was clearly not in a good state of mind. Of all the people whose problem this shouldn't be, surely she was at the top of the list.
Muttering curses and imprecations to herself, she got out of the car, slamming the door behind her for emphasis. Bryce got to his feet, but he didn't take a step toward her. Instead he just stood there, the picture of dejection.
Sarah fired the opening salvo. "What are you doing here?" Maybe if she was as unpleasant as possible, he would get the hint and leave. "Come to think of it, how did you know where I lived?"
He shrugged, running his hands through his hair yet again. "It wasn't that hard to figure out, Sarah. And as for what I'm doing here—I wanted to apologize."
"It's a little late for that." She hoisted the strap of her purse higher on her shoulder, staring him down.
Bryce winced, as if her words caused him actual pain. "I know I've gone about everything all wrong. But what I said—about realizing I made a mistake by cheating on you with Amy—I meant it, Sarah. You're the best thing that ever happened to me. I didn't come to Monterey to hurt you, I swear."
"You didn't hurt me, Bryce." It was the truth. "You pissed me off, and confirmed my belief that you're an absolute shit of a human being. But hurt me? You lost the power to do that a long time ago."
He hung his head. "I deserve that. But if you would just hear me out… Just listen to what I have to say, Sarah, and then I'll go. You'll never have to talk to me again."
"Well, when you put it that way…" She squared her shoulders, considering. Part of her wanted to tell Bryce that she didn't give a rat's ass what he had to say; he needed to get his lying, conniving butt off her property before she called the cops. But if she'd learned anything from her misunderstanding with Chuck, it was that not letting people say what was on their mind had the potential to cause incredible damage. She could hear Bryce out, and then close the door on that chapter of her life forever.
"You have five minutes," she said, fixing him with a gimlet stare.
"Thank you. Seriously." He drew a deep breath. "Sarah—when I came here, I really did want to see if you'd give us another chance. I had no intention of—well, of doing what I did." Swallowing hard, he met her eyes. In their depths, she saw something she'd never seen in them before: humility. "When Bartowski reached out to my lead engineer, it felt like serendipity—the perfect excuse to talk to you again. I thought maybe we could collaborate—work together. You and me, just like it used to be. But then I saw you with him—I heard the way you talked about him—and I realized I didn't have a shot. And then … I got mad."
He ran his hands through his hair yet again, looking as if he'd been electrocuted. "I'm not proud of how I acted, Sarah. I have no excuse, except that my ego got the better of me. I acted like a complete and total jackass. I don't expect you to forgive me."
Sarah figured it went without saying that forgiveness wasn't on the table. Still, Bryce paused, watching her face hopefully before he went on, sounding resigned.
"You deserve every bit of the success that's coming your way—success that you've earned in spite of me. I hate to admit it, but Bartowski treats you the way you should be treated—the way I should've treated you. He respects you, he puts you first, and he'd rather suffer himself than see you harmed. You should be with someone like that, Sarah. I see that now."
He wound down, dropping his gaze to his wingtips—which had probably started the day shined to a fare-thee-well, and were now scuffed and dull. "I, um, I don't have much money left," he said, his voice low. "My parents cut me off—it's a long story, but I'm sure you can imagine why. Investing in your project—which I was serious about doing, by the way—was my last shot at making something of myself. And now, with all the lawsuits …" He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "You're getting exactly what you want, Sarah. I'll have nothing left. Which is exactly what I deserve."
Despite her contempt for him, a tiny inkling of compassion threaded its way through her heart. "This isn't what I wanted, Bryce," she said, making her tone as kind as she could. "None of this is what I wanted. Not for you, not for me, not for the Aquarium. But I do feel sorry for you … because for once, I think you're telling me the truth." He was too abject for it to be otherwise—and though her bullshit meter was on high alert, she didn't sense a hint of it.
"You're right, I am happy with Chuck," she said, trying to sound gentle. Defanged, Bryce was simply pitiable; she saw no reason to dig the knife in deeper. "Happier than I ever thought I could be. And in a way, I have you to thank for that. If you hadn't showed up the way you did, I might never have had the courage to tell Chuck how I feel. So—thank you."
"You're welcome," he said, his lips rising in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. "Take care of yourself, Sarah."
"You too," she told him.
Inclining his head, he walked past her, down the street toward wherever he'd parked his car. She watched him go, feeling an unmistakable sense of resolution. She hadn't flown off the handle; she'd heard him out, and now she could put that part of her life behind her forever.
At peace with herself and at home in the world, Sarah unlocked her front door and stepped into the cottage that she now shared with the man she loved. Tonight, they'd celebrate the fulfillment of the dream she'd had since childhood—and then the next chapter of her life would begin.
A/N: In light of this week's momentous events, we'd like to echo Eden's words (no pun intended): If everyone could channel the openness and kindness of this little one, the world would be a far better place. Here's to sowing unity in the place of division, compassion in the place of cruelty, and peace in the place of animosity. Together, we are stronger. Together, we will rise.
On a more prosaic note, thanks for sticking with us this far! Just one more chapter left—the epilogue, coming next week, in which we will wrap up the rest of our Loose Ends, witness an important development, and encounter an unexpected visitor.
Thank you so much for joining us on this journey—it's been so much fun. We hope that you've enjoyed it as much as we have. Please keep your reviews, follows, and favorites coming our way! They really do make this all worthwhile.