Trifecta (43 page)

Stephan and Alexander came to dinner the night Ferd had
begun using teaching tapes to train the computer.  When he showed them the large
thing lying on the sofa, listening to audio tapes and watching the screen of a huge
computer, both Stephen and Alexander thought that their father had truly gone mad. 
This was not at all what they expected.  It did not look like a baby, although Ferd
called it his 'Computer Baby' with evident pride.  This large, grotesque, fleshy
thing resembled a fish with no fins, or maybe, Alexander whispered to Stephen, a
whale.  They were repulsed and horrified.  They said as much to their father, who
simply agreed and said this was just the first phase.  He did not want to tell his
sons too much about his copy machinery, thinking they would probably use it, just
as he had, to try to make copies.  But they would not use one dollar bills, they
would use hundred dollar bills.  And try to pass them.  He would never forget the
original baby he had loved so much.

As Stephan and Alexander drove back to the huge home in
Bel Air that they shared that night, they both agreed that all their plans for the
Super-Computer would have to be trashed.  They could not use that 'thing' in their
profitable schemes. 

After his sons left, Ferd tried to determine a way to obtain
a woman to make his computer look more human.  He needed an attractive young girl,
but he could not tell her he was going to make a copy of her body and brain which
would be immune to disease, enormously strong and equipped with a computer.  Any
rational person would think him insane and refuse. 

Stephen and Alexander were right in saying that his computer
could never be brought forth as the super human intellect of the century.  She did
have a nose, mouth, eyes, and some fuzzy baby hair, but she looked too abnormal
for people to tolerate.  Besides, Ferd wanted the absolute best for her.  He had
promised her beauty.

He thought that his computer might never age, so he had
to find a woman at the onset of maturity.  Then he looked at his two couches.  One
to put the baby-computer on, the other on which to place the person who was to be
the form for the body.  His mind twinkled and he had come up with the idea for the
tanning salon. 

Young mature people liked to be tan.  So old people and
children would not respond to an ad for a tanning salon.  Ferd would need access
to the person after the copying was done and the person would probably respond from
the surrounding area.  Making the experimental room look like a tanning salon was
easy.  Ferd put special filtered lights under the copying machinery.  Ferd sent
out fliers and people came to the salon and he gave them tans.  He waited for the
perfect physical specimen.  Then Sabrina came in.  She was so beautiful and graceful
with her long lean body, maybe resembling what his little baby girl would have looked
like when grown.  Ferd liked to think so, anyway.  When he had taken a blood sample
after blowing down a sedative gas to put her to sleep, he was sure that she was
healthy.  She had a fast metabolism, but that was nothing to worry about.  He had
the perfect specimen and decided to go ahead with the copying process.

Ferd took his giant baby by the hand led her slowly into
the tanning room.  She had poor eyesight now, and she stumbled because she was so
large that her body was ungainly, but she went placidly with Ferd.  He had to strap
her to the large couch and had given her a bottle of milk.  She gave him a last
painful smile as the large grotesque baby he had known.  Then Ferd had injected
her with a sedative and put up the sides all around the couch so that when the molecules
moved there would be no spillage.  During the copying process everything turned
to a jelly-like substance and he did not want to lose any of the body's necessary
components.  Then he went upstairs to handle the machines.

From above he watched the baby's skin turn to a partial
liquid substance.  It was horrible because it looked just like she was melting down
into a large puddle.  He cursed himself for putting a baby through the awful procedure. 
He had to watch the meltdown for hours because he had timed this part of the procedure
carefully.  When molecules move quickly they generate a lot of heat.  He had burned
up a few of his copies for this very reason. 

The whole process seemed to take aeons and he was stiff
and could hardly make his crackling knees move when it was finally all over.  But
it was a success.  His computer looked just like the original.  Oh, there were a
few differences.  The original must have darkened her hair.  There was a slight
difference in the shape of the computer's head, but with the addition of hair, no
one would ever notice.

Now the only thing Ferd worried about was the fact that
the fast metabolism Sabrina possessed may have awakened her too soon.  He was afraid
his computer's brain might resemble one of man's wild ancestors.

S
ato Hashimoto ate a late breakfast in the penthouse
suite of the Century Plaza Hotel, where he always stayed when in Los Angeles.  He
was weary because of the drastic time change, but he expected his staff in Tokyo
to work California hours now, producing reports for him in the middle of their night. 

He was satisfied with the periodic communications he was
presently receiving from his Yakuza, who were busy spying, and from his personal
staff, which was compiling information on Dr. Steinbrenner.  He took a quick shower
and dressed in the traditional white cotton Gi for his daily exercise. 

Sato dialed the room where his bodyguards slept, barked,
'Now' into the receiver and hung up.  One of his requirements when he hired men
to protect him, was that they possess considerable expertise in Karate.  He did
not intend to be injured by a flashy hot-shot who could not exercise self-control. 
Hashimoto considered himself far too valuable to put himself in mortal danger. 
He traveled with five bodyguards and kept more men at home in Tokyo for his regular
exercise.  It was their duty to provide competition.

He opened the door and his men filed in, each wearing an
identical white cotton Gi.  They wordlessly removed the furniture from the sitting
room.  Then, lining up in front of Sato, they bowed in unison.  He bowed briefly
in return and then straightened, hands clasped behind his back, frowning at each
man for an instant.  It was at this precise moment that he would decide on his opponent. 
He looked over each man carefully, weighing individual abilities, and finally nodded
at Kokuro, his most accomplished karate expert, who was still hindered slightly
from their last bout. 

The other men lined the walls.  Sato would no more exercise
without an audience than he would jump out of a plane.  A little pain could overpower
reason, and he had received a broken wrist on one occasion when a bodyguard in his
own employ, crazed by an injury, had attacked him. 

Hashimoto and Kokuro moved into the center of the room,
bowed formally and slowly began circling.  Sato's opponent opened the physical bout
with a kick to Sato's sternum which would have killed him, forcing rib bones into
his heart, if the man had not stopped within an inch of contact.  Sato took advantage
of the Kokuro's momentary loss of balance, while restraining the deadly strike,
to punch at his opponent's neck.  He made contact. 

The exercise took the customary forty-five minutes and
Sato's opponent did not once touch his flesh.  Sato, on the other hand, did not
have the proficiency or inclination to politely control himself, and although not
one of his kicks or punches was excessively savage or brutal, the accumulation brought
his opponent to the physical circumstance of having had an extensive beating.

Sato was not abiding by the traditional rules of the sport,
but he thought his employees were adequately reimbursed.  He expected their loyalty
and considered it the most important quality of any employee.  They would enjoy
lifetime employment if they were faithful.

The bodyguards lining the walls were totally impassive,
having witnessed this scene innumerable times, and having themselves been the victim
of their employer's sadistic abuse. 

When the match ended the men moved the furniture back into
place and bowed before leaving Sato, assisting the injured Kokuro out the door.

In an excellent mood from his physical exertions, Sato
bathed in a steaming tub of water.  His assistant came in the misty vaporous bathroom
and handed Sato a towel.  He then gave Sato pictures of the Miller woman that his
Ronin had taken the day before.

Sato lolled in the bathtub and had his assistant call Cedars
Sinai hospital to inquire solicitously about Dr. Steinbrenner.  The news was disheartening. 
The doctor was in stable condition but his doctors would not allow visitors. 

Sato sighed regretfully.  He might be forced to work with
Dr. Steinbrenner's despicable sons, Alexander and Stephan.

T
he aroma filling Sabrina's apartment was maddening.  It
was excruciating.  It was a warm, bedeviling smell that Eve thought would drive
her mad.  She went into the kitchen and opened the oven door.  As the light went
on, she saw the beautiful red color of the meat, surrounded by carrots and potatoes,
and knew it must be cooked done.  It was just losing its red liquid into the bottom
of the pan, tiny drips that Eve watched with fascination and wanted to lick.  She
wondered about that cookbook.  The roast had been in the oven for twenty-five minutes
and it looked perfect.  But the book said it was supposed to cook for two and a
half hours.  Either she had read the instructions wrong, or the weight on the package
was incorrect, because any more time in that heat would surely ruin it. 

Eve decided to taste it and had an impulse to pick the
roast up and take a bite, just to see, but thought that would be incorrect, undignified
behavior.  It was important to learn to act like people, even when she was alone,
so the appropriate behaviors would become intrinsic.  She got a knife and cut a
small piece of the roast and used the fork.

Eve closed her eyes in bliss and slowly sank to a sitting
position in front of the oven.  She chewed slowly, eyes squinted, making small appreciative
noises as she felt it slip down her throat.  It was better than pizza.  Better than
cookies.  Better than marmalade.  She cut off another piece and blissfully chewed,
with sounds of appreciation from her throat mixing with small happy growls and grunts.

She was reaching for the knife again and stopped abruptly. 
She was supposed to eat with Sabrina and Mark.  She should not eat before them. 
But she wanted to.  She wanted to eat the whole thing and then chew on the bone. 

Eve turned the oven off.  The cookbook had explained that
some people liked their roast rare and some liked it well done, so she would let
Sabrina decide when she came home.

To help forget her craving Eve took out the marmalade and
finished it with a spoon. 

Eve decided to make a couple of dresses.  The idea came
from a fantasy visualization that she knew must be Sabrina's.  She needed something
to do or she would go crazy from the enticing odors emanating from the kitchen. 
Then she would move all the furniture.  She knew just how Sabrina wanted it.  The
thought entered her mind that she was not strong enough.  That was Sabrina's thought
also, because Eve knew she would have no problem lifting up the couch and placing
it across the room. 

When Sabrina opened the door that evening she almost backed
out, thinking she was in the wrong apartment.  She bumped into Mark and stepped
on his foot.  Then she peeped in again and recognized her own possessions.  Fabrics
were strewn all over the furniture, which had been totally rearranged in position. 
There were books from the shelves in her bedroom all over the living room floor. 
The television was on and Eve was sitting cross-legged in front of it.  Eve seemed
to be glancing from the television to a book in front of her.  She was sewing something.

"Ouch,"  Mark muttered and grabbed his toe.

"Sorry."  Sabrina entered and looked around.

Eve jumped up and nearly crashed into the ceiling.  "The
meat is cooked.  And the dresses are on your bed, Sabrina." 

Sabrina glanced around, dazed, and went into her bedroom. 
"Good grief, what a mess,"  Mark was saying, under his breath, as Sabrina
gazed at the dresses on her bed.  She knew her own styles, but these garments were
not exactly the way she would have designed them.  A pastel fantasy, the dresses
were the most beautiful that Sabrina had ever seen.  They appeared like beautiful
gems on her bedspread. 

"Wow!" Mark said.

"How beautiful."  Sabrina lifted one of the dresses
up. 

"They're yours,"  Eve said from behind them.

Sabrina turned around and looked at Eve.  "No.  I
mean the designs, yes.  But your use of fabrics.  The velvet with the cotton and
satin.  And the way you layered each piece of cloth.  I never conceived of that."

"It didn't come from me.  It's from your dreams, Sabrina. 
And you're upset about the apartment.  I will fix it."

Could Eve possibly have access to her own dreams or subconscious
thoughts? And if Eve did, would the it make her crazy if she couldn't distinguish
dreams from real life?

Sabrina and Mark followed Eve back into the living room. 
Sabrina had never seen anyone move so quickly and precisely.  It was as though Eve
had suddenly gone into a fast-forward mode in a film.  Or had become an automatic
machine.  She glanced at Mark, who was shaking his head.  In less than a minute
the apartment was immaculate.

"Shall we eat? Or would you like me to move the furniture
back?"  Eve asked.

"No.  It's fine,"  Sabrina said.  She went into
the kitchen and started putting dishes on the table.

Mark opened the oven and pulled out the roast.  "It's
raw.  Did you forget to turn on the oven, Eve?"

"It is cooked.  I already tasted it,"  Eve said.

Sabrina went over to see.  Mark had placed the roast on
top of the oven.  It had been cooked a little, but it would be very tough.  Of course,
maybe Eve's jaws were so strong that she didn't notice.

"Did you like it that...ah, rare, Eve?"  Sabrina
asked.

"It was the best thing I have ever tasted."

"Maybe Mark and I could put ours in the microwave
and cook it a little more,"  Sabrina said tactfully.

"You like well done,"  Eve stated.

"Actually, I like rare also, but a little more cooked
than it is right now, Eve."  Sabrina exchanged perplexed glances with Mark.

"I can carve it,"  Eve said.  "I studied
how."  She cut the tough, undercooked roast like it was butter.

Eve was having trouble controlling her body fluids and
had closed her mouth just in time as she watched Sabrina put some pieces of the
roast into the microwave and put some raw pieces on a plate for her. 

The carrots and potatoes were fine, having been in a warm
oven for a couple of hours and Sabrina distributed them on the plates and they all
sat down.

Mark could not watch Eve eat the bloody meat.  She was
so obviously enjoying the raw stuff.  He found it nauseating.  Not that Eve was
unmannerly.  She ate just like Sabrina, whom he thought she must be copying, but
there was something strange about her whole attitude, as thought she was starving
and this was the last meal of a condemned person.  Sabrina did not even seem to
notice, just kept piling Eve's plate with more of the bloody stuff. 

Mark felt more than ever that they should call the police
and get rid of the strange human computer.  He also thought that Eve was giving
him very odd smiles, and he wondered just how much of Sabrina's memories Eve had
received.  Maybe she knew all about their most private moments.  The whole thing
was extremely disquieting.  He wanted Sabrina to come home with him tonight, but
she said she had to get ready for the commercial shoot so early the next morning
it would be better for her to stay here.  Which meant he would have a sleepless
night because he was not going to leave Sabrina alone with the computer.  How could
he sleep with the strange computer in the same place, anyway? What if Eve went berserk
in the middle of the night and used that big damn knife on them.  He knew he couldn't
stop her if she decided she wanted more raw meat.  She was strong as an ox.  How
she had managed to move that couch was a mystery.  There were no drag marks in the
carpet.  Probably picked it up and balanced the whole thing on the top of her head
and waltzed it across the damn room. 

"Mark?"

"Huh?"  Mark said coming out of his thoughts.

"You're not too hungry?"

"No."  Watching Eve eat had ruined his appetite.

"And Eve, I don't think you tried your wine," 
Sabrina said.

They watched Eve glance at Sabrina's glass, gauging how
much she had consumed, and take two huge gulps.  Immediately, large tears appeared
in Eve's eyes and rolled down her cheeks.  She coughed a couple of times from the
effect and said, "Wine is alcohol.  I forgot.  I will give mine to Mark."

Mark thought Eve gave him a leering smile as she handed
him the wine glass.  He almost shuddered when their hands touched briefly.

Mark was still hungry, but the meat on his plate appeared
distasteful.  "Maybe a little ice cream for desert?"  he asked, knowing
that Sabrina, always trying to gain weight, always had ice cream around. 

"Okay.  Would you like some ice cream for desert too,
Eve?"  Sabrina asked.

"No.  I would like the bone for desert.  Only if you
don't want it."

"I don't want the bone."

"I thought you liked bones, Sabrina."

"The meat around the bone is very good."

Mark and Sabrina watched as Eve took the bone out of the
pan and placed it on her plate.  She neatly licked her fingers and sat down.

Sabrina went to the refrigerator to get the ice cream when
she heard a gigantic crack.  She turned around and saw that Eve had taken an enormous
bite of the bone.  It sounded like she was eating potato chips, but a lot louder. 

Mark was reminded of pictures of wolves savagely crunching
bones.  At least Eve was not growling, slavering and tearing chunks of meat from
the bone.  But he was repulsed.  It partly had to do with the noise.  The sounds
of eating a bone simply could not be hushed.

Sabrina made up dishes of ice cream as though nothing unusual
had happened.  The crunching was so loud that it was impossible to talk for a while,
but that was fine because Sabrina could think of nothing but the spectacle of Eve
chewing on the huge bone.  She was worried that Eve might break her teeth or cut
her mouth.  Evidently she was chewing it well because it seemed to take an awfully
long time for her to consume it.

When Eve finished she patted her mouth with a napkin daintily
and put her dish into the sink. 

"I was a little worried that you might hurt yourself." 

"I got lots of minerals.  Calcium, magnesium, iron
and potassium.  I guess people don't eat bones often, but I distinctly knew about
eating them.  I have a memory of it."

Sabrina wondered if Eve was getting her own memories, but
distorted in some way.  The dresses Eve had made were Sabrina's designs, but nothing
like the finished product she had envisioned.  Now Eve had strange ideas about eating.

"I have never eaten a bone, so the idea didn't come
from me."

"I remembered the joys of bones when Morris was eating
this morning.  He was crunching on his food."

"Did any other thoughts come to you?"  Sabrina
asked.

"No.  But when I was eating it, I received memories
of chasing, fighting and killing.  Killing for food.  For meat.  I remembered the
exhilaration of the chase, and the thrill of eating the kill."

Sabrina and Mark exchanged worried glances.  The situation
was getting very weird. 

"Close your eyes and go back to that memory, Eve." 

Eve obediently closed her eyes and then nodded.  "Yes. 
There is a gang, a tribe of people.  They stay together for protection, building
fires at night to keep predators away.  And they hunt together for food.  I remember
this—not in a clear way.  It is a very distant memory."

"Describe the animals that were hunted,"  Sabrina
said.

"Small furry animals.  Like little rabbits, squirrels
and some birds.  But sometimes very large animals too.  I think we hunted mammoths. 
But some things we did not hunt.  The big scavengers were not good to eat.  Like
the big cats.  And wolves.  But deer and elk..."  Eve nodded.

"What was used to kill the animals, Eve?"

"Big clubs.  Sometimes rocks for the small animals. 
But the memory world is very different.  Now there are roads, houses, telephone
poles and big buildings.  But my older memory does not contain these things.  The
world was not populated with many people.  There were forests and fields and it
was very green, not gray and brown.  Water came directly from streams.  There were
huge mountains with white tops.  The sky was a big empty circle around everything
and it was endless.  And the country was endless.  It was...tranquil.  Beautiful. 
Nice."

Eve opened her eyes.

Mark muttered, "Racial memories.  You know, like that
psychologist, Jung, postulated."

"Maybe Eve has access to parts of the brain that are
not available to most people,"  Sabrina said.

"Eve,"  Mark said.  "Sabrina and I want
to go for a ride in the car, like we did last night.  We'll be back soon."

Sabrina was surprised and thought Mark was being very abrupt. 
She knew Mark would try to get her away from Eve again tonight.