Knowledge

A.N. Cameron mentions the situation around the best man of her first husband to Wilson in season 2. Nick Bostrom and his theory are real. The Sutton Hoo treasures mentioned in this chapter are well worth a visit if you're ever in London.


As Cameron walked over to where House was waiting, she noticed he had a rucksack slung over one shoulder. "Hi", she said, kissing him on the mouth. "What have you got in there?".

"Just a few supplies I picked up around the corner. There'll be a lot to see and I don't wanna waste time eating and drinking". Cameron raised an eyebrow at this, but didn't say anything. It was funny to observe how he could be so keen on food in the morning and less so in the afternoon. Priorities. "So", he continued, "we could get the tube, but the museum is actually pretty close. Fancy walking it?".

The immunologist nodded, remembering how he had confided his preference for walking during their second date. No doubt he wished to make the most of it, just in case the ketamine treatment wore off in the future. "How was your morning?", she asked as they exited the centre and began their journey.

"Not terrible. The A.I. talk itself was pretty disappointing but I had a cool chat afterwards with a dude from Oxford". House had offered his arm as they set off and Cameron took it. Both were wrapped up in heavy coats, hats, and gloves against the cold, even though it was probably a degree or two warmer than Princeton. The sidewalk was crowded and snippets of conversations from passers-by filtered into their own.

"What field is he in? Nephrology?", she asked.

"Philosophy". Cameron laughed at this, and House looked at her enquiringly. "What?".

"Ah, nothing. Spending so much time with you, sometimes I forget how smart you are is all". This was a medical conference, and yet he had managed to ferret out one of the likely very few non-medical specialists. The memory of their dance in the office recently came back to her: House truly was a renaissance man, at home in so many different fields.

"Jealous?", he smirked down at her.

"Yes".

"Well, in this conversation I felt pretty dumb. This guy, Nick Bostrom, had an insanely great theory. Wanna hear it?".

"If even you think it's insane, I absolutely do". The pair reached a crossing and waited for the green man to flash.

"The theory is this: that in all likelihood we are not living in a real universe but in a simulated one, and that we are being simulated on the hard drives of the future".

"Right. How's he figuring that?".

"There are a few steps. Are you paying attention, 'cos this is deep shit. Knowledge with a capital 'K'".

"Hit me with it". Cameron grasped his arm more tightly.

"First, you have to acknowledge that consciousness is, at root, merely the result of information processing. In other words, what goes on in the wet stuff in our heads is not magically unique but will be replicated in a computer at some point".

"OK, like Terminator or The Matrix? Artificial intelligence".

"Yes. After this first step, you then have to grant that humans of the future will run simulations of the past in the way that we are running simulations even now, like in the Sims games or Second Life. You know them?".

"Yes". How like House to use a computer game analogy.

"Then, if you allow the previous two steps, there's just one further assumption you have to make: that almost by definition simulated universes will outnumber the real one, and we are therefore mathematically far more likely to be among the simulated ancestors than the actual ancestors".

"Huh, that is pretty interesting. But what if there are an infinite number of universes? Then surely it would tilt the equation back in the favour of us being real".

"But if you allow infinite universes, you also have to allow an infinite number of people running simulations. So rather than it being, like, 99.9999% chance of us being computer programmes, it's more of an infinite chance. Still pretty good odds that we aren't real, really".

Cameron nodded in response, thinking it over. "You're a massive nerd", she said finally.

House scoffed. "I'd rather be a nerd for cool computer philosophy arguments than for shrill women's rights activists like the Pankhursts. You make nerds look bad".

"Nope", she retorted. "I make nerds look good".

"Can't deny that. Did you have a saucy time with Wetherby?".

"Wetherall. You make it sound like we were hooking up behind the bike shed".

Suddenly House stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, forcing a pair of teenagers to veer to one side. "Did you?", he asked excitedly.

"Couldn't find a bike shed, alas", she replied, shaking her head. "Anyway, that would be cheating on you".

"Yeah, but it's OK if it's girl on girl".

"Interesting logic". They continued their walk for a minute or two before Cameron continued: "I'd never cheat on you, House".

"Not even for Tom Hiddleston?".

"Nope, not even for him".

"Why not?".

"Is that rhetorical?".

"No".

"Because you're the only one I want. I told you that already in the office after you went AWOL". House shook his head slightly at this, and she noticed. "What?".

"You wanna sit here and eat the sandwiches before we go in? It's just around the corner". He led her towards a wooden bench which fronted a large park area. The trees were bare of leaves and the grass glistened from the morning rain. Dog walkers and couples seemed to be the primary occupants.

"We can sit, but I want to talk about this", she said, settling beside the other as he rummaged around in his bag.

"I thought I was allowed to have secrets", he teased. "Ham and cheese or BLT?".

"Ham and cheese. And you are allowed to have secrets. But I still want you to explain why you shook your head just then".

House handed over the sandwiches and they both chewed in silence for a few moments. Finally, he sighed, having come to a decision. "You're aware that you're super hot, right? I don't mean like 'pretty' or 'cute'. I mean like a genuine babe; like a model". Cameron remained quiet as he continued: "that's one thing. But you're also a nice person. You work hard, you care about people, you have…an insane moral compass ("not a good thing, by the way", he added, to which she merely smirked); you're intelligent and conscientious. You know this, right?".

"Not really sure where this is going, to be honest".

"But you're aware? You said yourself that men pursue you", he persisted.

"I guess, yeah".

He took out a water bottle and swigged from it before clasping his hands together and looking at the ground. "And you're aware that I'm none of those things? I'm not good looking, not really. Sure, I scrub up fairly well, but I'm no Brad Pitt. And I'm absolutely fine with that. But I'm most definitely not a nice person; I don't work hard; my moral compass is certainly there but it's somewhat…opaque".

"OK…", she murmured, still unsure what his point was.

"And then there's the fact that I'm a lot older than you. We have a few similarities…", the conversation House and his two friends had shared about Cameron months ago entered his mind, "…but we're also very different, with different outlooks on life".

"What's your point?". Cameron reached across and took a sip from the bottle.

"My point is that if you cheated on me, maybe with someone more like yourself, a model maybe or, or…a UNICEF ambassador, I wouldn't blame you. Frankly, I'd expect it". Still he refused to meet her eye. These were the same insecurities as he had experienced during the whole Chase misunderstanding.

"Well, would you cheat on me?".

"Nope. But I'd have no reason to, would I? I'm the one getting all the positives out of this". And this was the crux of it: House still couldn't fathom how Cameron found him attractive, even though she had explained it several times before, and would likely have to again before their time was done.

"Did…did Stacy have an affair?". The immunologist never knew the circumstances surrounding the disintegration of House's most serious relationship. When they had gone to monster trucks together, he had confided living with someone for a while. That 'someone' had been Stacy. In any case, when she had come back to Princeton, husband in tow, she and House had themselves embarked on an affair. Cameron could still remember the stabs of jealousy towards the lawyer, who in most respects had shown herself to be a genuinely nice person. It had not been a happy period. But maybe that period also explained House's phlegmatic, almost resigned, attitude towards this topic.

He had been munching on some crisps, but at her question he paused. "No comment".

The other nodded, accepting his right to keep some things private. "Fair enough. But can I say something?".

"I don't know, can you?".

"May I?", she sighed exaggeratedly.

"You may".

"You know my husband was sick with cancer and that I married him because I didn't want him to die alone; it was a mercy, in a way. What you don't know is that, during his treatment, I…got close to our best man". This caused House to look up sharply, but he allowed her to continue: "we didn't act on it…it wasn't right. And afterwards I realised that I loved, not him really, but more the fact that he helped me cope with the stress and the grief".

"What's your point?".

"My point", Cameron said, placing her hand on his knee, "is that I love you for you. I'm not with you out of pity, as I was with my husband; I'm not attracted to you because you support me in my life, as with our best man. You said that we are simultaneously similar and dissimilar, and I completely agree with that. I've spent more time than you can imagine thinking this through, attempting to diagnose my feelings. And the truth is I find you", she searched for the right words, "…simply magnetic. Addictive, even".

"What does that mean?".

"Unsure, really. All I know is, with you, I'm a moth to a flame. Maybe I'll get burnt; hell, I'll probably get burnt. But this time we spend together…it's worth it, if and when I do eventually fly into the flames".

"And if the flame goes out?". House's blue eyes were inscrutable.

"I can't speak for you, Greg, but I'm not sure it's ever going to go out, not for me. The ball will always be in your court". If only he knew how many tens of hours she had spent conceptualising a relationship between them.

House sighed, but when he spoke his voice was lighter. "I think I preferred it when you weren't using sports metaphors. And when I answered your personal questions by simply walking away".

"Good times", she chuckled. And he had a point. They had both come a long way.

He checked his watch and gathered up their debris, throwing it into a nearby trash can. "I still think you're a moron, an idiot moron, for refusing to cheat on me with Tom Hiddleston".

"I wouldn't need to, would I? He's on my free pass list, duh. Now who's the idiot moron?". Cameron rose to her feet and immediately sought his hand. "Let's go. I'm looking forward to this. Correction: I'm looking forward to doing this with you".

House grinned, his serious demeanour completely dispelled. "Ditto. Come on, then, bombshell".


House and Cameron were poring over a map of the British Museum in the cavernous foyer area, planning their route. The place was extremely large. Even if they had a full day, there would have been no chance of seeing all the exhibits. As House examined the layout of each floor, he was struck by the thought that this time last year such an undertaking would have been impossible. Mangled legs and museums did not mix. But now things were different. For all the exercise and the Vicodin-free lifestyle, it was this simple aspect of unhindered movement that he most enjoyed: the realisation that walking could be painless. Who'd've thunk it?

"Right", he said, "I'd love to see the Sutton Hoo hoard first then make my way to the Egyptian stuff. You got your eye on anything?".

"There's a whole floor on the Aztecs and the Incas and another on Arctic climate and culture. That would suit me just fine. If we take this route…", Cameron trailed her finger across the paper, "…we should be able to hit everything and still make it out in time for closing".

"Sounds good. I never asked how your morning was". The pair wandered to the elevator.

"Do you actually care?", she grinned.

"Depends if it involves you and Wetherley getting crazy or not".

"Wetherall. I'm beginning to regret introducing you to her". They waited as the elevator emptied before stepping into it. One of the occupants lurching past was a middle-aged man walking with the help of a cane. House couldn't help but notice the lopsided gait, hunched shoulders, and face tight in barely contained pain. Had he looked like that, not so long ago? Cameron saw his gaze and wordlessly took his hand.

"Well", he said eventually, "Wetherloft seemed to be expecting my angle of attack".

"I may have told her about your strangeness before first contact". They whirred upwards, glass walls affording an impressive view back down to the lobby.

"See, it's no fun when you do that".

"Sorry. Next time I'll keep quiet".

He groaned. "Oh, what? How can there be a next time? I promised to network, and I have".

"One pre-warned doctor friend of mine doesn't count".

"Who made you the arbiter of what does or does not count?". House folded his arms.

"Stop pouting. Would it help if I let you glance down my top?". She winked and made to unzip her coat.

The other's building resentment suddenly evaporated, and he chuckled. "So, you're aiming to manipulate me with sexual favours?".

"You're too smart to fall for that, Greg".

"Nice. Throw the old first name in there, too. Love Is a Two-Way Street is really paying for itself".

The elevator dinged at their floor, and they walked out, arm in arm. The Sutton Hoo collection occupied an entire chamber. The remains of a large wooden longboat occupied the middle, and thick glass cases, each full of ornate relics, lined the periphery. Up ahead, House could spot a sizeable crowd; he could guess the reason for their gathering, and the objects of their focus, but wanted Cameron to see them for herself, unwarned.

"Right, genius", she announced, changing the subject. "Explain what I'm about to see".

"Wouldn't you rather read the information boards?".

"Nope. Tell me what you know; impart your knowledge unto me". Unlike her colleagues, Cameron had never minded House's ego, nor the tendency to broadcast his own intelligence. She believed humility was for other people, and she absolutely did not want to date 'other people'.

House sighed but nevertheless spread his arms, gesturing to the room. "The Sutton Hoo treasures; so-named after their place of discovery. Have you heard of the Anglo-Saxons?".

"No. Are they pre- or post- Roman?".

"Post. They arrived after the Romans left Britain in the early fifth century. Anyway, they were Christian barbarians who populated this island and forged many of the famous kingdoms before William the Conqueror came along and fucked everything up. You know Alfred the Great? The guy in Vikings".

"Vaguely". Cameron was trying to think back to her school history classes.

"He ruled Wessex, one Anglo-Saxon kingdom in the ninth century. The dude in this exhibition ruled over the kingdom of East Anglia, probably in the sixth century".

"And what's this?", she asked, pointing to the centre of the hall.

"This, Cameron, is what we in the business call a 'boat'".

The woman rolled her eyes and purposely stifled a smile. "Yeah, but why's it here?".

"Kings were buried in their boats, which were also filled with the types of things they might need in heaven: wine cups, food, horses. The bigger your boat, the more powerful you were".

"So, size really does matter", she smirked.

"Some things are eternal", he agreed. "Death, taxes…and the length and breadth of your, er, ship".

The pair ambled leisurely around the exhibition taking their time to look at everything properly. When they reached the centrepiece of the collection, an ornate helmet and shield burnished to a shine, Cameron took pleasure in it. But really she was enjoying sneaking glances at the expression on House's face as he stood with rapt attention, trailing over the intricate metalwork with his eyes. He looked happy. Content. During their head-to-head in the office, she had observed how he seemed to be at war with himself. But now it seemed the battle was over, and the knowledge brought her warm comfort.

Whether it was a lasting peace or not, however, only time would tell.