MINDSET

Part 1

Chellis Englund sighed as he hefted his carry-on out of the overhead compartment. It had been a long flight from Boston’s Logan Airport to LAX. Cramming his 6’2” frame into a space designed for someone 5’4” had been a challenge. The seat was plenty wide for his slim body, but he’d ended up with his long legs in the aisle, having to rouse himself and move them every time someone wanted by.

Chellis felt some relief now that the plane had actually touched down. He grabbed his laptop case and made his way to the baggage claim. When his bulging bag appeared on the carousel, he hoisted that as well and schlepped his way to the Ryde stand. He stowed his large bag in the trunk, got in, and entered the address Derek had sent him into the nav screen. Finally, he sat back and closed his eyes for the ride to his business partner’s apartment. He was a little curious about the sights in LA, but too tired at the moment to enjoy them – maybe later. He wished he could be transported directly to Derek’s place, but in 2038, teleportation was still on the horizon, so he endured the ride.

It had been a grief- and stress-filled year. Lines of sadness and worry creased his youthful face and surrounded his pale gray eyes. He was still reeling from the sudden death of his parents, right after he had earned his PhD from MIT. They had supported him all through his college years and remained close through his graduate studies. Even though he’d no longer lived with them, he still went home every Sunday for one of his mom’s home-cooked meals. It was just the three of them, and they were very close.

His parents had left on a long-awaited trip right after his graduation. His mom had thrown a huge graduation party for him and his friends, and then she and his dad had taken off the very next day for two weeks at a luxury resort in northern Wales. They had visited it on their honeymoon about 40 years previous, but could only afford one night. This time they planned to do it right.

He was just heading out for Logan Airport to greet them on their return when he received a phone call from a very kind sounding woman.  She explained that their plane had gone down about 50 miles out over the Atlantic. Chellis found himself on the hall floor, sobbing like a baby. He didn’t even remember ending the call.

Somehow, with the help of friends, he’d gotten through the visitation and funerals, the settling of their estate, leasing of the Back Bay brownstone. He’d planned to move to LA immediately after graduation with his friends Derek and John to start their joint business venture, but was only now arriving almost a year later.

Chellis and Derek Morgan had become friends as undergrads, and met John Alan in the lab at MIT. He was from LA, and had come to Cambridge to look for like-minded people to possibly start a business. Chellis was studying nanoengineering, with a focus on nanoarchitecture. His research had brought him very close to producing atomic level strings of precious metals that had enormous potential in building nanomachines. Derek’s specialty was nanorobotics, and John had expertise in nanoprogramming. The three had come up with the business idea over drinks one night and decided to take it to LA. Investors were thick on the west coast, and they felt they’d have a better chance to raise their startup money there. Derek and John had moved to LA right after graduation. Chellis promised to join them as soon as he was able. He wasn’t sure he was ready even now, but grief or no, life went on. He felt if he had the research to focus on, his life would have more structure and he’d begin to feel better.

Arriving at the apartment building, he swiped his card for the Ryde and muscled his bags up the three flights of stairs to Derek’s door. He was just about to put down the heaviest bag to ring the door buzzer when a grinning Derek opened the door.

“I am so stoked you’re here, man!” said Derek. “I still can’t believe it. Our own company! Wait ‘til you see the space John and I found for our lab! It’s huge! Now that you’re here, we can really get to work on our projects! I always say ‘How many engineers does it take to make a nanite? Three: one to design it, one to program it, and one to delete all their work and restart!’ Ha! But seriously . . . “

“Can you show me where to put these bags, Derek,” interrupted Chellis. He was as excited as Derek about being here and getting to work, but the bags were getting very heavy, he wanted to get out of the wool sport coat he’d worn on the plane, and he desperately needed to pee.

“Oh, sure, sure! Your room is back this way.”

Derek led Chellis through the main room, past a large bedroom to a smaller room in the back. It did have a better view, though.

After Chellis had refreshed himself, showered, and changed, they went down one flight to John’s studio apartment in the same building. John was a loner so he chose to live in a separate apartment, even though it was stretching his budget to the limit.

They pushed the buzzer and heard not one, but three locks click before the door opened a crack and a disheveled head with light brown hair and brown eyes peered out, blinked twice, and opened the door all the way.

“Oh, you’re here,” said John.

“Good to see you, too,” said Chellis with a smile, being accustomed to John’s abrupt manner.

“Anybody hungry?” asked Derek. “We could go down to the corner and celebrate Chellis’ arrival.”

“I’m starving,” said Chellis. “All I had on the plane was a chicken sandwich, at least I think it was chicken.”

“I could eat,” said John.

The three walked down to a bar at the end of the block. The bartender nodded to Derek and John as they entered. They made their way to the bar through the dimly lit room, Derek and John able to navigate by familiarity, Chellis bumping his legs on a chair, then a table on the way.

They ordered burgers and beer, then more beer, and more beer. By the time they were ready to leave, they were all feeling buzzed – even John was smiling.

The next morning, they summoned a Ryde and rode out to the warehouse near the airport. It was in a sketchy neighborhood, but the rent was affordable on their budget, and the space was huge. A large sign mounted over the door read AME Nano-tech, incorporating initials of all three.

John had installed fingerprint security on the door and quickly programmed it to accept Chellis’ thumbprint.

“This is my set-up over here,” Derek pointed with a wide sweep of his arm as they entered. “John is in the back, and we thought you could put your equipment over on that wall – kind of between us. We want to build the clean room over there, and eventually an administrative area up front.”

“This is great, guys. I really appreciate you doing all this preliminary work. I’ve been  . . . um, distracted this past year.” Chellis blushed and looked at the floor.

“No problem, man,” assured Derek. “This was our way of doing stuff for you.”

“Um . . .” said John, not finishing the thought, but nodding his affirmation.

Part 2

Chellis’ equipment arrived later that week. It took them another week to get it all unpacked and set up. Chellis had inherited a small nestegg from his parent’s estate, and that, along with the lease money from the brownstone had enabled him to buy his third of the business and also obtain loans for the equipment he needed to get started.

He was working on perfecting his nano-strings so they could be used in the nanites. It required exacting conditions. The construction of a clean room would greatly aid his work. He hoped that would be in their budget soon. Meanwhile, he busied himself with computer diagrams and calculations.

Derek had been making contacts with potential investors and clients. Eventually, they hoped to produce nanites that could be used in medical treatments. For more than 20 years now, micro-capsules had been used to deliver chemotherapy drugs directly to cancerous tumors, greatly reducing or eliminating side effects of the drugs. They hoped to take the research further and produce nanites that could remove the tumors without drugs. They hoped to use them to destroy viruses, clear blockages in patients’ arteries, excise inoperable tumors, the list went on.

Chellis’ breakthrough with the nano-strings in his graduate studies had enabled them to move forward with their dreams. Derek helped design the nanites, but his talents lay mostly with the business’ public face. While Chellis was willing to be Derek’s second on presentations to investors and clients, he recognized that Derek led him in charm. Derek was naturally at ease with strangers. Chellis was not. John preferred to work behind the scenes. Sometimes Derek and Chellis had no idea what John was working on, but he regularly came up with innovative new uses for their nanites. He was currently trying to break the blood-brain barrier that prevented nanites from entering the human brain. Once that was solved, nanites could be purposed in whole new ways. Derek and Chellis warned him not to get ahead of the laws governing the use of nanites in the human body, but John insisted the law was out of synch with technology and would have to change.

Derek and Chellis made presentations to investors and potential clients. It took them about 4 months to get their first investor, then 2 more signed on in the next month. Eventually, they raised enough money to build their clean room. Once that was underway, production couldn’t be far. They roused the interest of several clients – mostly big pharma. One high-tech firm back in Boston, Acadia, Inc., was extremely interested in their research. Derek said they’d probably give anything to get their hands on the proprietary designs behind AME nanites.

John, meanwhile, was getting more and more involved in his own pursuits. Their custom had become to summon a Ryde and leave the lab as a group because of the dangerous neighborhood, but John began working later and later hours, even pulling all-nighters on occasions.

After one such all-nighter, Derek and Chellis arrived at the lab in the morning, expecting to find a bleary-eyed John still at his computer in the back. Instead, the lab was empty. They tried his cell – no answer. They assumed they’d passed him on his way home and he was sleeping so soundly he didn’t hear his ringtone. When they returned to the apartment building that evening, they knocked, then pounded on his apartment door to rouse him. No answer. They were beginning to worry.

Finally, about 9 o’clock, they decided they should contact hospitals. Maybe he’d been mugged leaving the lab. Maybe he’d been in an accident. While driverless Rydes were the safest transportation in hundreds of years, accidents occasionally happened. Getting no satisfaction from hospital emergency information, they decided they needed to contact the police and file a missing persons report. By 11 pm, neither had seen John for over 30 hours.

Chellis filled out the paperwork at the police station. The police asked for a recent photo of the subject. Chellis transferred a picture from his phone of John drinking coffee from an Erlenmeyer flask. They were told to go home and wait. Usually, the subject showed up on their own in a day or two. They’d keep in touch. Both Derek and Chellis felt discouraged at the little help they seemed to be getting. They didn’t know what else to do.

Their clean room was finished. They needed to get into production. They had obtained three contracts for nanites to be produced by the end of the year. That gave them just five months to deliver. Derek and Chellis concentrated all their efforts in the lab over the next week, but every time one of their phones rang, or someone buzzed the door from the street, they hoped it was John.

Finally, Chellis picked up his ringing phone and heard a soft voice on the other end.

“Um, could you pick me up? I think I’m lost.”

“John!” Chellis shouted. “Are you all right? Where in the hell have you been?”

“I’m not sure. I’m at a shelter on Maple.”

Motioning for Derek to follow, Chellis summoned a Ryde while he sprinted out to the street to wait.

“Where is he?” asked Derek.

“Some shelter on Maple,” answered Chellis. “That’s not far from here! You think he’s been there all this time?”

When the vehicle stopped at the curb in front of the Maple Avenue Shelter, they spotted a slight figure leaning against the wall near the open door. He straightened up when he saw them and made his way to the curb.

“I need to get back to the lab, but could you take me home first?” John asked. “I don’t feel so good.”

“John!” shouted Derek. “What happened! Where have you been? Why didn’t you phone sooner? We called the friggin’ police!”

“Please don’t shout,” begged John, rubbing his temples. “I still have the headache. But they work! My nanites work!”

“Wait. What nanites!” asked Chellis.

“I’ve done it! I’ve broken the brain-blood barrier! Still some kinks. Side effects. Helluva headache. It’s getting better now. Still pretty intense. But I did it!”

“What in the hell did you do, John?” Chellis was shouting now. “Are you saying you introduced your experimental nanites into your own body? Your own brain?

“I double-checked all the equations. It wasn’t dangerous. I just wasn’t prepared for the power of that first surge.”

“How did you get the nanites into your brain?” asked Derek.

“That part was easy – eye drops! They traveled along my optic nerve into my brain – then spread out the way I had programmed them. They boosted my synapse connections so I could think both faster and more clearly. I could do calculations at twice the speed of computers from 20 years ago! Here, look at my notes.”

John shoved a tattered notebook in front of Derek’s face. Derek grabbed it and leafed through the pages, then passed it to Chellis. When Chellis looked up from studying the scribblings in the notebook, Derek raised his eyebrows in a question to Chellis. Chellis shook his head slightly. They’d talk about it later.

“Let’s get you home,” Chellis said to John. “You can fill in the details later.”

John leaned back to rest his head and close his eyes for the rest of the ride home. After Derek and Chellis helped him into his bed, they quietly left John’s apartment and climbed the stairs to theirs.

“What do you make of that notebook?” asked Derek.

“I’m not sure, but none of the equations or notations made any sense. It looked to me like the scribblings of a madman!”

Part 3

After John had slept off his headache, Derek and Chellis joined him to hear more about his experience.

“I was never really scared, you know,” he explained. “It was amazing, actually. I found myself on the street. Blinding headache. It was so bad it made me physically ill. I think I slept in a doorway for a while. Somebody picked my pocket. I think that’s when I lost my phone. Then it started to rain. I woke once with a dog licking my face. My mind was racing. Thoughts coming so fast I couldn’t keep up. I tried to write them in my notebook, but I think I missed a lot. That’s probably why it doesn’t make much sense.”

“I wandered around and eventually found the Maple Avenue Shelter. They gave me food and a cot to sleep on – out of the rain. Somebody tried to pick my pocket there too, but I caught them and held on to my notebook – all I had by then.”

“After 5 days or so – I lost track – I realized I needed to call you. I borrowed a phone from one of the shelter workers. It had all started to come back by then and the nanites in my brain were beginning to expire. They’re almost gone now. I need to work on longevity – self replication, and the side effects. Once I solve those issues, there’s no end to the possibilities . . .”

“You can’t possibly think you can pursue this!” interrupted Chellis. “Introducing untested nanites into the brain is insane! You could have killed yourself! Not to mention the laws about expiration dates!”

“No! I know they’re safe. Just a little rough right now. We can keep working to get the laws changed. We can make nanites that self-replicate to solve the longevity issue. The laws will have to keep up with technology! They’ll have to!”

“I don’t know,” said Chellis. He was looking at his hands and shaking his head. “I’d rather wait until the laws change and then do the research. We could get shut down in a picosecond if they find out we’re into self-replication. And crossing the blood-brain barrier is just too risky. We need a lot more work before we’re there.”

“Just let me continue my research. I know I can get there.”

So Derek and Chellis let John continue working on his brain nanites, with strict cautions not to do any guinea pig trials on himself again. He nodded agreement.

By the end of the second year AME Inc. had grown to a multi-million dollar business, obtaining contracts from all the big pharma and many universities. They moved to a nice location in Altadena. They hired 3 lab techs to help with production, and a small office staff to manage administrative duties. The three partners were finally able to take a breather and reduce their hours to normal work weeks. But John kept his schedule of staying late and pulling all-nighters from time to time. When Derek or Chellis wandered into his workspace to find out what he was up to, he was vague about his current projects. He was always willing to help them with a complicated solution, but didn’t share much of his own work. Derek and Chellis became suspicious.

They called a meeting – in the bar down the street from their old apartment building. Derek and Chellis had by now moved away. Derek bought a house in the hills and Chellis had an apartment downtown. Only John had remained in his second-floor studio.

“We invited you here to discuss a couple of things, John,” began Derek. Chellis was silent – looking uncomfortable. “We no longer feel the direction of your research fits with the original vision of our company. We feel you have been deviating for some time from the path we set out to follow . . .”

“You want me to leave,” interrupted John.

“We’re concerned about our reputation as a company. We can’t associate ourselves with . . .”

“It’s OK. I could use the money.”

“So you’re OK with this?” asked Chellis.

John just shrugged. He seemed, more than anything, disinterested. Derek and Chellis had agonized over this meeting, wondering how John would react to being forced out of the partnership, and now that they’d confronted him, he seemed indifferent.

They had their lawyer draw up the papers, all signed, money transferred, and John moved his equipment and computers out of the facility. They cautioned him to stay legal, shook hands, and parted. It would be 4 years before Chellis saw John again.

Two years went by. Their medical-use nanites were selling well. The tech giant Acadia approached them again about a buyout. This time Chellis felt it would be a good idea. The money they offered was very generous. It would enable them as a pair or individually to pursue their own research without the daily distractions of administrating a growing business. Derek strongly disagreed.

“This is what we’ve worked our asses off for the past five years!” he shouted. “We can’t just sell out now! There are all kinds of possibilities for our nanites! Who knows what Acadia would do with them? We’d have no control! We’d be crazy to just give our designs away!”

“We wouldn’t be just giving them away,” said Chellis, trying to remain calm and reasonable. “They’ve offered us a huge sum of money. We can negotiate for more.”

“No!”

“Derek, you can’t stop me. I’m selling!”

“Fuck it then,” said Derek. “The golden boy Chellis Englund wants to sell, so we sell!”

“That’s unfair!” shouted Chellis. “Unless you can come up with a sum to match Acadia’s offer, I’m signing. Think of it, Derek: you can use the money to set up your own research facility, continue your own pursuits. I plan to move back to Boston and consult with Acadia. They presented an open offer to both of us for consulting and I plan to take advantage of it. It’s an opportunity for me to go home, and continue my research using their impressive facilities. You’re welcome to join me.”

“Never!” shouted Derek, striding out and slamming the door behind.

Chellis stood stunned.

Eventually, Derek reluctantly agreed and they signed their proprietary designs away to Acadia, Inc. in return for $40 million. Split two ways, that was a tidy sum for each. The meeting with Acadia representatives was made awkward by the tension between Derek and Chellis, but at the end of the day, documents had been signed, money had been deposited, and invitations for consulting opportunities had been extended. Derek and Chellis went their separate ways.

When Chellis returned to the office he found a check for Derek’s half of the remaining equipment. Derek had somehow gotten his desk and computers moved out between that morning and the meeting. One of the secretaries offered that some of Derek’s friends had come over and moved him out while they were at the meeting. What friends? thought Chellis. None of them had a social life outside the business. They had devoted all their time and energy to making it work. Now it was gone. Had they made a huge mistake? Should he have listened to Derek? He was also feeling uneasy about John. If they hadn’t forced him out of the partnership when they did, he’d be sharing in this buyout from Acadia. Would John be resentful because of that?

Too late to second-guess now. Chellis decided to pack up and leave at the end of the month. He gave each of AME’s employees a generous severance package from his half of the buyout money, paid off the lease on his apartment, and moved back to Boston.

He had to stay in a hotel for three months while the lease on his parents’ brownstone expired, but as soon as the tenants left, he moved in. It felt strange living here alone when these walls held memories of his mother and father and their family dinners, but their ghosts kind of kept him company. He invested most of his money from Acadia, but kept enough fluid for a generous lifestyle in Boston. The city really opened up for someone with enough money to enjoy it.

He tried the night life Boston offered, but learned he no longer enjoyed the loud music and frenetic atmosphere at most night spots. He went home every evening with a headache. He never met any interesting women – they all seemed shallow. In spite of being an attractive, single, brilliant, wealthy young man, he still found himself alone.

When he became bored with the leisure lifestyle, he showed up at Acadia to look over the lab. He was impressed. Borg Ogun, Director of R&D, was eager for him to begin. They both looked forward to a productive collaboration.

Part 4

Chellis began a regular routine of going to the lab at Acadia first thing every morning, working ‘til noon, eating a quick lunch in the company cafeteria, then returning to the lab until about 3:00. He liked to have some time to himself in the afternoons to run errands or just go back to the quiet of his brownstone to think. Some of his best ideas came to him during those quiet hours. He’d long since quit going to clubs and bars, but enjoyed the occasional gallery opening or show. He liked his ‘down time’, as he called it, but sometimes sought the company of others in a social setting. He realized, now that he’d shed the responsibilities of a business, he was lonely.

He spotted her during his second week at Acadia. She’d brought some kind of sack lunch to the cafeteria, and even though she smiled and shared pleasantries with several co-workers coming and going, she sat alone. At the same table every day. He’d always been a little awkward approaching strangers – never possessed the easy charm Derek had – but he thought about ways to approach her.

One day, as he was quietly eating his lunch, he suddenly became aware of someone standing close.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m Jule Miller. I’ve noticed you eating lunch here alone. I eat alone too – over in the opposite corner. Maybe we could eat alone together?”

She held out her hand and they shook.

“I . . . um. I’m Chellis Englund. Please, sit.”

Chellis stood, blushing, while Jule took a seat.

“I . . . I’ve seen you too. I was going to come over and introduce myself. Have you been with Acadia long?”

“Two years,” answered Jule, with a smile. A lovely smile. “I came here from Google – Chicago branch. I’m in Marketing Research right now, but plan to move to R&D as soon as there’s an opening. My specialty is mega-data. I know that can be helpful analyzing seemingly diverse research options.”

“I’m consulting in R&D. Acadia offered the opportunity after they bought out my partner and me.”

“I know. I won’t lie. I’ve heard the talk. I do have a question, if you don’t mind.”

“Shoot.”

“How come you’re here? They must have paid you and your partner enough for you to retire early and live a life of luxury. Why are you still working?”

“It was an opportunity for me to do pure research – without the hassles of keeping deadlines and worrying about marketing and such. What I really enjoy is the research. Borg presents me with occasional challenges to take my research in a certain direction, but mostly lets me pursue whatever I want. It’s a freedom I never had in LA.”

“Is that where your business was located?”

“Yes, but I’m a Boston boy, born and bred. I still live in the brownstone once owned by my parents.”

“Did they move away?”

“Sort of. Where are you from? Your accent doesn’t sound East Coast at all.”

“I’m a Midwest girl. Born in Rockford, Illinois. Moved to Chicago out of grad school. But I love the vibe here. So much history. And great seafood! You can’t get fresh seafood anywhere in the Midwest.”

After chatting for another half hour, Jule excused herself, saying she had a big report to finish up before the end of the week. She hoped to see him at lunch again soon. Then she was gone. Chellis lingered at the table, thinking about asking her out. She had approached him, after all. She must be interested. Surely she wouldn’t say ‘no’.

Meanwhile, Jule had returned to her desk. On an impulse, she sent a request to her friend Marge in HR. Could she forward Chellis’ personnel file? Jule’s security clearance didn’t reach that far, but Marge had once bragged that she could lay her hands on personal information about any eligible male at Acadia, including all the branches.

An hour later, a message with an attached document from Marge appeared in her inbox. She copied it to her laptop and deleted it from her inbox. She also copied her notes and draft of her report to her laptop and told Alice Clinton, her supervisor, that she was almost ready for tomorrow’s presentation and was going to finish it up at home.

Once home, she worked for an hour to put the finishing touches on her report, then opened the file on Chellis. He was born in Boston, grew up here, and received his PhD in nanoengineering from MIT. Then he moved to California where he started his own business with 2 partners. After 5 years, he and one remaining partner were bought out by Acadia and Chellis moved back to Boston. He’d recently joined Acadia as a consultant. His resume and research credentials were impressive, and equally impressive was the fact that Acadia paid him and his remaining partner many millions for their technology. It said “no living relatives”.

The meeting went well in the morning. Jule gave her presentation with efficiency and professionalism, two traits that would help her move up at Acadia. When they adjourned just before lunch, she hurried to the company cafeteria to see if she could connect with Chellis.

He beckoned her over as soon as their eyes met. During lunch, they shared more of their background with each other. Jule told Chellis about her work at Google in Chicago. She told him she loved the work, but never felt joy in Chicago. She was feeling more alive here in Boston and thought she’d soon be able to make the move to R&D.

“I want to be on the cutting edge of what we do, you know? I want to be one of the innovators, not one of the imitators!”

“I felt that way when my partners and I started our business,” said Chellis. “We were right out of grad school. We wanted to be on the leading edge of nano-technology. Our partner John went for the bleeding edge, so we let him go his own way. Then Acadia made an offer Derek and I couldn’t refuse. It gave me a chance to concentrate on what I love the most – the research.”

“Didn’t the buyout give you enough money to pursue your research on your own?”

“You’d be surprised how quickly the money goes when setting up a full-blown nanite research facility like the lab here. We’re talking about hundreds of millions!”

Chellis and Jule continued to meet for lunch about twice a week. She liked his company. He wasn’t pushy like some of the other men she knew. He was willing to let their friendship unfold at its own pace.

“Sometimes I just feel awkward around people, you know?” Chellis was trying to explain his reserve to Jule as they walked out of the building after work one evening. “I feel at ease with you, though. I’d like to spend more time with you away from here. Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?”

“I’d love to,” she answered.

“Are you busy tonight?”

They had dinner – broiled fresh fish – from one of the ‘clean’ hatcheries just north of Boston – at a place he knew near the harbor – then he summoned a Ryde and accompanied her back to her apartment. He kissed her at the door, letting her decide whether to invite him inside or not. She didn’t.

All the way home, Chellis wondered if it was because she didn’t like him that much, or she was the kind of woman who didn’t make a habit of sleeping with men on the first date.

Part 5

When David Hempstead in Sales at Acadia told Jule about his brother Dirk opening a club downtown, she invited Chellis to join her for the opening.

“I tell you, Jule, you’re going to be seeing a complete makeover of the inner city,” said David as he told her all about his brother’s venture. “Wait ‘til you see the place Dirk has built. It’s called the D-Spot – just down the block from where I’m looking at some real estate. You are coming to Dirk’s grand opening tomorrow night, right?”

David had been talking to Jule during lunch. She’d been having a quick lunch alone in the company cafeteria, then back to work, but David had spotted her and practically insisted on joining her.

“Of course I’ll be there, David – with Chellis,” she let David know, making sure to mention that she wouldn’t be alone.

Jule was busy with another report – due on Friday. She told Chellis she’d be having lunch at her desk for the next few days so she could finish up her report. It was taking way longer than she would have liked.

Friday morning, she did pretty well. Not as prepared as she should have been – she’d only finished her analysis late on Thursday, but she presented her report with some coherence. After the meeting was over, Alice mentioned a few more points she should have made, but said it went well overall. Jule texted Chellis and arranged to meet in the cafeteria.

“Well, you finally came up for air,” said Chellis as she sat at their table.

“I know,” she sighed. “That report took way longer than it should have. The data sent to me was not in very good shape and I had to spend a lot of time getting it organized so I could run my analysis. I hate to work like that.”

“I bet you’re glad it’s finished.”

“Yes! Looking forward to Dirk’s opening tonight.”

Chellis whistled as he got dressed before leaving to pick up Jule for what would be their second official date. He studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror. A bit on the thin side, but he was sure he’d fill out in a few more years. His father had been a little on the stocky side. He had his mother’s gray eyes and thin lips, his father’s long narrow nose. He got the feeling Jule liked what she saw when she looked at him. He was looking forward to tonight.

He got to Jule’s place in time to take her to a nice Italian place in the North End before their planned evening at Dirk’s club. They finished their dinner and Chellis’ summoned a Ryde to take them to the club.

Inside the club, past the entrance, the lights were subdued – but not dim. The music was loud enough to hear above the murmuring of the crowd, even loud enough to feel the beat, but not deafening, and certainly not so loud that the people at their tables had to shout.

“Just right,” commented Chellis as they settled at their table.

“What is?” questioned Jule.

“Everything: the lights, the music. Did you notice as we crossed the edge of the dance floor how much louder the music seemed, and did you feel the bass notes and the drum beat?”

“Yes!” exclaimed Jule. Her brows knitted in a puzzled frown. “How do they do that?”

“They set up a damper field around the perimeter of the dance floor. I remember Dirk talking about infra-sub woofers embedded in the dance floor. That way the volume on the floor can be much louder and the damper cuts it way down at the tables. Also, the floor speakers enable the dancers to literally “feel” the beat through their feet. Clever, huh?”

“I’ll say!” Jule replied. “I think Dirk may just have a real formula for success here. He’s giving people what they want. What a refreshing idea – for people to actually get what they want.”

“Why do you say that, Jule?” asked Chellis. “Don’t most people get what they want? Don’t you – or don’t you at least feel like you’re moving closer to what you want?”

“Well, yes, actually I do,” Jule said. “What about you, Chellis. What is it you really want?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m doing everything I ever wanted. I have no financial worries. I’ve got access to Acadia’s impressive lab for my research. They give me free reign to pursue whatever I want. I’m getting to know the most beautiful and intelligent woman I’ve ever met – my life couldn’t be better right now.”

“Tell me about your research.”

“In California, we did some research using nanites to correct health problems. Nanites can be used for all sorts of health issues. Eventually, we’ll have watchdog nanites that stay in your body and continually monitor your health – fix problems as they crop up, before small issue become big ones.

“Aren’t permanent nanites illegal?” asked Jule.

“The legislation is slated to pass next year legalizing greater longevity for nanites. We’ll get there eventually.”

“I never knew you were such a visionary, Chellis!”

“Oh, there are all kinds of things about me you don’t know, Jule,” he said.

“I hope to find out about all of them as I get to know you better; much, much better.”

Chellis heard that message loud and clear. He wanted to get to know her better too; much, much better.

Dave spotted them and came over to say hello.

“Let me buy you two a drink,” he offered. He stood awkwardly at their table after the drinks had been served, but neither Chellis nor Jule invited him to sit.

“Well, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, then,” he said.

After they thanked him for the drinks, he finally left. Just then the music changed pace – something a little slower.

“Would you like to dance?” Chellis asked.

“I’d love to,” she answered.

They left their drinks unfinished and stepped past the damper field onto the dance floor. Chellis felt his skin tingle momentarily as they passed through the field, but it stopped as they reached the dance floor and began to move with the music.

When the song was over, they finished the drinks Dave had bought, then noticed Dirk approaching.

“Hey, so glad you could make it out tonight!” he greeted them with a hearty smile.

“I think you might have a real winner here, Dirk,” said Chellis. “We were just talking about giving folks what they want.”

“Right! When I designed this place, I thought about what kind of club I would enjoy going to. The D-Spot is the result! Let me buy you a drink.”

Before they could protest, Dirk had signaled the waiter to bring them two more of what they were drinking – white wine for Jule and a bourbon rocks for Chellis.

As soon as the drinks were served, Dirk spotted someone at a nearby table and excused himself with “Enjoy!”

“How about we get out of here and go to my place?” Chellis said softly when Dirk had left.

They finished their drinks and left. They held hands, then he put his arm around her shoulders as a cool breeze came up from the harbor. They rode in silence to his brownstone.

“Would you care for another drink?” he asked, as he started for the kitchen.

“No, thanks.”

She kicked off her spike heels first, then curled her legs under her as she sat on the couch. He came and sat at her side, turning his body so he could embrace and kiss her softly on the lips. They kissed and caressed until they both felt even the clothes they were wearing was more separation than they could bear. He got to his feet and pulled her up from the couch. He held her hand and led her up the stairs to his bedroom. She pulled her dress over her head and shed her bra, but left her panties on for the moment. She noticed dark grey sheets as she lay back on the pillows.

He removed his jacket, shirt and pants, and lay beside her. While he kissed her, long and deeply, he slowly slid her panties down until she could pull her legs free. Then she did the same with his boxers. Finally, not even one layer of clothing to come between them, they turned toward each other and pressed their entire bodies together, from shoulders to toes.

Kissing deeply, they continued to caress each other, memorizing the curves and valleys of each other’s bodies, finding out by trial and error what felt good and what didn’t. At first they were all knees and elbows, then it seemed like everything fit perfectly. They made love eagerly but gently and when they were finished, Chellis rolled to the side, lifting his weight off Jule, chuckling softly.

“That was way better than I fantasized!” he said.

“It was for me too,” she murmured.

Part 6

On Monday, Jule received a huge project assignment analyzing a large quantity of data obtained by Acadia from social media users on the frequency of their reliance on AI, VR, Forkbeard, and other technologies in everyday use. If it were all disconnected tomorrow, how would they react? If they could have a way to be permanently connected, would they? She needed to go through all the data to back up her report.

The time flew. Before she looked up again, it was late afternoon. She stretched her arms above her head to ease her shoulders, stiff from sitting so long, and realized she’d missed lunch. She rummaged in her desk and found a protein bar she stashed for just such occasions.

She worked on the report all week. By Thursday, she was putting the final touches on her presentation. She made the trip to see Chellis in person. They hadn’t crossed paths all week. The days she ventured to the cafeteria, he was working through lunch and visa versa. Chellis texted her midweek to say ‘Hi’, but that was all the contact they’d had.

She visited Chellis in his lab just before leaving for the day.

“Hey, sorry I’ve been so busy. I had a huge pile of data to get through for tomorrow’s meeting. I’d like to celebrate the end of the week tomorrow night by inviting you to dinner. I’ll cook – the only guest-worthy dish I know. My mom used to make it for company and I asked for the recipe for when I entertain – which is about . . . never. Anyway, I’m cooking. You eating?

“Wouldn’t miss it,” replied Chellis. “I haven’t had home cooking since . . . you know . . . before I left for California.”

“Then I’ll see you at 7:00.” She stepped in for a quick kiss, then left.

Chellis stood grinning widely. When he looked up, Chet Butler, the tech assistant in the lab, was watching him with a knowing look.

“What?”

Chet just shook his head.

On Friday, Jule nailed her presentation, then left early to prepare for the evening. She stopped at the market on the way home and picked up some chicken breasts with the skin and bones removed, some good Swiss cheese, thin sliced black forest ham, and fresh tomatoes. She picked out fresh green beans and salad greens. She already had potatoes and the other necessary ingredients in her fridge and cupboard at home.

Once home, she pounded the chicken breasts thin, then topped each one with a thin slice of tomato, some ham, and a slice of the cheese. She rolled them up and fastened them with toothpicks, then rolled each one in a mixture of bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, and chopped parsley. She placed them on a baking sheet, drizzled with melted butter, and put the whole pan in the fridge.

Then she took a long hot shower. She dressed in a comfortable gray knit dress, towel-dried her curls, and carefully applied a little powder, blush, and eye shadow. Lip gloss completed the look. She returned to the kitchen to finish cooking.

She steamed the green beans, boiled and mashed the potatoes – adding generous seasoning and butter. Just as the door buzzer sounded, she put the chicken into the pre-heated oven and set the timer. When she opened the door, there stood Chellis with a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a bottle of white wine in the other.

“Come in, come in,” she smiled. She took the flowers and set about locating a vase to put them in. “Go ahead and pour the wine. I set out glasses on the table.”

Chellis retrieved the glasses from the dining table and placed them on the passthrough counter to pour the wine. Jule busied herself in the kitchen tossing the salad and checking on the chicken.

“This is nice,” said Chellis as he sipped his wine. “Like I said, I haven’t had real home cooking since I graduated. My mom used to make these big family dinners every Sunday. She was a great cook.”

Chellis blushed and looked at his hands.

“What happened to your parents, Chellis?” asked Jule. “Do you mind if I ask?”

“No, I . . . well, they died – very suddenly. I had just received my PhD and was on top of the world. They were returning from a long-awaited trip when their plane went down. We were very close – my parents and me. I have to say, I don’t remember a lot of that year following their deaths. My friends Derek and John went ahead to California to start our business. I joined them when I was able.

Chellis was looking at his hands again. Jule turned her back to give him some space, and pulled the chicken out of the oven. It was done to perfection. While it rested she zapped the beans and the potatoes in the microwave to make sure they were nice and hot, and brought the dishes to the table.

Chellis poured them more wine and placed the glasses on the table and they sat down to eat. He complimented her profusely on the delicious meal.

“This is wonderful, Jule!”

“Thanks. It’s one of those dishes that always gets raves.”

They shared childhood memories while they ate. When Jule rose to clear the table, Chellis motioned her to stay seated.

“Let me wash up, Jule. It’s the least I can do after you prepared this great meal.”

Jule took the seat at the passthrough where Chellis had sat before dinner. They chatted about incidental things at work. Jule thought Dave Hempstead was dating the new HR director. She wondered how many office romances were going on at the time.

“Does Acadia have policies against fraternization, do you think?”

“I’m not sure,” said Jule. “But it would be impossible to enforce – at a big company like Acadia. Anyway, it’s a little late to worry about that, don’t you think?”

Having finished cleaning up, Chellis came around behind Jule and began massaging her shoulders, then put his arms around her and stood holding her for a bit.

“It’s so nice to have you in my life, Jule,” he said. “I am so happy right now.”

He stopped short of the “L” word. He wasn’t ready to go there yet. They’d only been dating a short while. But they both felt comfortable enough with each other for sex.

After finishing the last of the wine, they retired to Jule’s bedroom where they made love long and slowly and then fell blissfully asleep in each other’s arms.

Part 7

Chellis and Jule continued to eat lunch together most days, unless one or the other was buried in their work. They made plans nearly every weekend, getting together on Friday evenings to eat out or dine in, taking care of their own affairs on Saturday mornings, then getting together later to explore the city and surrounding area, hanging out at his house or her place on Sundays, having a late breakfast, reading, napping. It was that sparkling period in their relationship when every experience revealed new and wonderful discoveries about each other.

Two months went by. One Sunday morning, after a pleasant night together at her place, Chellis rose quietly while Jule slept, ran out for bagels, made coffee, and carried it all to surprise Jule with breakfast in bed, but just as he entered her bedroom, she emerged from the bathroom, dressed and ready for the day.

“I have the worst timing,” he said. “I’m always a beat behind.”

“You just follow your own beat.” Jule leaned in and kissed him while she took the tray from Chellis and put it on the end of the bed. They sat on either side and sipped their coffee.

After breakfast, he went home, with a promise to call her later to make plans for a picnic that afternoon. He was amazed she’d never visited Walden Pond in the two years she’d lived in the area, but remembered the demands of her job and how serious and dedicated she was to her career. She gave more to Acadia than they deserved, but maybe she’d be rewarded someday. Maybe it would all pay off.

Just as he was about to step into the shower, the door buzzer sounded. His phone screen showed him a man who looked a lot like his ex-friend Derek. Wait, it IS Derek! He threw on a robe and ran downstairs to open the door.

“Derek?”

“Chellis, I . . . uh . . . I was in town so . . .” Derek said.

“I . . . I don’t know what to say,” said Chellis. He could feel himself reddening. God, he hated that about himself.

“Look, Chellis,” began Derek with a deep breath. “I came to say I’m sorry about the way I acted when we parted. I was an ass. I realize now selling was the best plan. I used my share to start a small think-tank in New York. Maybe you’ve heard of us – LifeLab?”

“No.”

“You will. We’re on the verge of a major breakthrough in nanotech. Can’t say much about it now, but watch the news, my friend. We’ll be going public within the year.”

“Good for you, Derek,” Chellis began to relax. “I’m glad things are working out for you.”

“How about yourself? Consulting at Acadia all you thought it would be?”

“My work’s going well, and I’ve met a wonderful woman. My life has definitely taken an upturn. How long are you in town, Derek? Jule and I are planning a picnic at Walden Pond this afternoon. You could meet her.”

“Oh, I don’t want to intrude . . . wait, yes I do! If you’re sure she won’t mind. I’d love to meet her. Can I pick up some food?”

“No, she’s bringing a basket. She said she’d make a light lunch. I’ll let her know there’ll be three.”

“I’m only in town until tomorrow. Meeting some prospective clients in the morning, then back to the Apple.”

 They talked a bit about old times then, laughing at adventures they’d had in college. When the subject of their business in LA, and John, came up, Chellis became quiet. He still felt bad about forcing John out of the business.

“Have you heard from John?” asked Derek.

“No, have you?”

“Not in a while. He contacted me about three months ago – wanted help with programming nanites he was developing. I turned him down. But we parted on friendly terms. Well, as friendly as it gets with John. I think he’s still working on those brain nanites of his. Don’t want to get involved. If he contacts you, be careful.”

“Do you think he’s dangerous?”

“Not really – unstable, I guess. Remember when he introduced the nanites into his own brain? I think he’s still capable of rash actions like that. I’d steer clear, if I were you.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

Derek agreed to be back at Chellis’s place at noon. They’d take a Ryde together to pick up Jule, and then out to Walden Pond.  Chellis phoned Jule to let her know that his friend Derek was joining them. She’d said she was looking forward to meeting him.

Derek arrived a little before noon.

“I picked up a pair of swimming trunks on my way over. Mind if I go upstairs and put them on under my clothes? I don’t like the changing rooms at the lake.”

“No problem. You know where the bathroom is.”

Derek was upstairs a few minutes, then came quickly down and they got in the Ryde and put in Jule’s address.

Jule was wearing black capris and a bright orange tank top. The color brought out warm flecks of brown in her eyes. Chellis couldn’t help but smile broadly when he saw her skipping out of the apartment building.

Derek jumped out of the vehicle to stand beside Chellis as she approached.

“Jule, this is my old friend Derek. Derek, Jule.”

Derek made a theatrical bow and grabbed Jule’s hand for a quick kiss.

“Madam, my pleasure,” he said, with a fake accent.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” replied Jule.

They chatted all the way to the lake. Once there, they laid out the blanket Chellis had brought, put the picnic things on top, and pulled off their clothes to swim.

Derek and Chellis were both much better swimmers than Jule. She kind of splashed around close enough to shore where she could put a foot down for reassurance, but the guys raced each other out into deep water. The bottom sloped away steeply from shore, so that wasn’t far. Finally, out of breath and laughing, they returned to the beach and flopped down on the blanket.

“What’s for lunch, beautiful?” asked Derek as he rummaged in the basket Jule had brought and the cooler he’d brought.

He pulled out a bottle of wine and three glasses. Pouring carefully, he offered one to Jule, one to Chellis, then raised his own in toast.

“Here’s to friendship!”

“I’ll drink to that,” said Chellis.

“Me too!” Jule chimed in.

They ate the sandwiches Jule had prepared, along with chips, fresh veggies, and homemade brownies for dessert.

“Chellis told me you could cook,” said Derek. “I think this one’s a keeper, Chellis.”

Chellis blushed, of course.

Part 8

 By 6:00, they’d all had enough sun, they’d drunk both bottles of wine, and Derek said he wanted to make an early evening. So, they packed up and summoned a Ryde back to the city. After dropping Derek at his hotel, Chellis accompanied Jule back to her place.

“Nightcap?”

Chellis nodded. He put his arm around her waist as they rode the elevator up to her floor. Kissed her once before the doors opened.

Inside her apartment, he waited until she closed and locked the door, then embraced her in earnest and covered her face with kisses. The two of them couldn’t shed their clothes and swimming suits fast enough.

“I feel like I have sand everywhere,” said Jule. “Quick shower?”

They squeezed into her small shower stall together, taking turns lathering each other up. Laughing, they rinsed quickly, toweled off, and embraced seriously.

Later, Chellis wandered to the kitchen to see what Jule had in the fridge. They were both feeling hungry now after the afternoon on the water. Jule joined him in front of the open refrigerator, staring at the meager offerings inside.

“Let’s order Lo Mein,” suggested Jule.

“And Mongolian Beef,” added Chellis.

He grabbed his phone and texted their order to his favorite take-out place.

“Guess we should put on some clothes before the food arrives,” Jule laughed. They were both standing naked in the kitchen, barely aware of their lack of attire.

Jule put on a fresh pair of capris and top, while Chellis climbed into his rumpled shorts and t-shirt.

When the food arrived, Chellis went to the door to retrieve it from the delivery bot. He carried the bag to the kitchen and gingerly pulled out the containers, setting them down quickly.

“Hot!” he said.

“That’s the way I like it!” said Jule.

As they ate, Chellis asked Jule what she thought of Derek.

“He’s great! Very charming. I’m so glad you guys buried the hatchet. You’ve been friends for a long time. You need a friend like him.”

“He only lives down in New York City. We could drive down to visit him sometime. Maybe see a show, or visit the Met. My parents used to take me there once in a while. They went at least once a year, but I only got to go after I turned 12.”

“I’d like that, Chellis.”

The following morning, Chellis headed to the lab early to check on an experiment he had running. He was attempting to reduce the size of the metallic strings used in his nanites. If successful, he could reduce the size of the nanites by almost 20 percent. It would be a major breakthrough. His nanites could be used for more delicate procedures in the human body – like heart surgery

When he finished for the day, he texted Jule to say he’d pick her up at 8:00 for their date. They were going to Dirk’s club again to hear a band Chellis knew from his college days. She said she was looking forward to tonight.

Jule’s heels echoed on the pavement – quick, then slow, then quicker as she and Chellis walked along the uneven concrete toward the club entrance. She held tight to Chellis’s arm, occasionally glancing around at the dark street. The renovation and upscaling of the neighborhood was still in progress.

As they made their way along the sidewalk – heaving and broken in places – Chellis suddenly lurched forward, jerking Jule’s arm and making her do a little dance to catch her balance in her seldom-worn stiletto heels. He staggered toward the wall of the building they were passing and paused, just where a dark alley cut through the row of brick and stone facades. She heard him gasp sharply, then pull his arm away to grasp his head in both hands. It looked like he was having a migraine. Her mother had suffered with severe headaches. Sometimes they lasted for days. He moaned weakly. He turned into the alley, still leaning against the rough brick for support. She looked around at the darkening street, ready to call for help, when she heard him retching in the darkness. When she turned toward him, he was still bent over a trash can. He straightened up slowly, turned with his back against the wall, and started sinking to the ground. His hair kept catching on the rough surface of the wall and little strands of it would lift, then fall, as his head slid along the rough brick and mortar.

His hands shook as he reached into his pocket for his handkerchief and wiped his face. A tear had leaked from his left eye and he wiped that away as well. Before she could ask what was wrong, he held up his hand to stop her from speaking.

“A minute,” he whispered hoarsely.

He let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes. She knelt beside him now, difficult in her tight dress and high heels, bruising her knees and scuffing her shoes on the rough pavement. After a few moments, Chellis asked her if she could help him stand.

She grabbed his arm and tried to lift, then gave up and let him turn over onto his hands and knees and slowly get up onto one foot, then the other. He braced himself against the wall and carefully straightened up. Several people walked quickly past them as they struggled to their feet – probably thinking they were both drunk.

Jule summoned a Ryde while Chellis took several deep breaths and they began to move. They walked slowly to the curb as the vehicle approached. Chellis’s knees kept threatening to buckle, but he put an arm around Jule’s shoulders and leaned on her, hard. It took all the strength she had to keep them both balanced. She helped him slide in. All the while he kept his eyes shut and his head level, like he was trying to prevent his brain from sloshing around. He had a light sheen of perspiration on his pale forehead. She got him buckled in, then went around and got in her side of the car. Before she typed in her address on the nav screen, Chellis put his hand on her arm, turned his head carefully toward her, and opened his eyes. A little gasp of shock involuntarily escaped her lips. The hand on her arm was Chellis’s, the face turned toward her was his, but the eyes . . . the hard cold eyes staring at her, detached from all feeling, belonged to a stranger.

Part 9

Chellis closed his eyes again and Jule put in her address. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb and headed slowly toward her apartment. He was leaning back, gripping the edges of the seat with white knuckles. His color was still ashen. He was mumbling to himself. Right before they arrived at her apartment building, he rummaged in his pocket, scribbling on a napkin or tissue.

At her apartment, she helped him out of the car and into the elevator – up to the 21^st floor – then down the hall to her doorway. While she pressed her thumb to the security lock, he slumped against the door frame. Suddenly he looked around, confused.

“We’ll be inside in a minute, Chellis,” she said. “You can rest here as long as you need.”

Once inside, he sank to the couch. She let him rest there a few minutes while she kicked off her shoes, then gently urged him to his feet and led him down the hall to her bedroom. She helped him out of his jacket, tie, shoes, and socks. She loosened his belt and pulled off his shirt, then helped him step out of his pants. She turned back the covers and let him slide between the cool sheets of her bed. She turned out the light and left the room.

Chellis’s head was still throbbing but the nausea was subsiding and he no longer feared his brain was in danger of sliding away. His mind, which had been racing, began to slow down. He lay there feeling the thud of each heartbeat inside his skull until he gradually relaxed enough to sleep.

Jule went to her kitchen and made some coffee to keep herself alert, in case he needed her. She sat at the counter for a while, then took her mug of coffee to the bedroom where she curled up in a rocker near the bed. Chellis moaned a few times in his sleep, but seemed to be over the crisis. This was the worst migraine she’d ever seen. She’d had to play quietly as a child while her mother suffered in a darkened room. No light, no sound, no smells; the slightest sensory input would cause her mother to moan in pain. But never as bad as Chellis. She would urge him to see a doctor in the morning. Maybe he could get some medication . . .

Jule woke with a cramped feeling in her legs and light penetrating her closed eyelids. It was morning. Her mug of coffee sat forgotten on the low filing cabinet she used as a bedside table. Chellis was still asleep – peacefully now – as she slipped out of the chair and into the bathroom to freshen up. She dressed quickly in jeans and a big loose sweater, then padded barefoot to the kitchen to make fresh coffee.

Chellis woke with a start. For a moment he had no idea where he was, then it came back – the trip to Dirk’s club, the blinding pain, Jule’s apartment. She’d undressed him and put him to bed. He smelled coffee.

“That smells so good.” He stood barefoot in just his pants, leaning unsteadily in the kitchen doorway.

“Sit down,” Jule said, moving as she spoke. “I’ll get you a mug.”

“Do you have any pain killers?” Chellis asked. A dull ache behind his eyes was the only thing remaining of last night’s pain, but he wanted no reminder at all of that exquisitely painful and frightening experience.

Jule set a steaming mug of coffee in front of him and walked down the hall, then returned with a bottle of white capsules and filled a glass with water.

“Take one of these. They knock out anything. I used them when I broke my wrist,” she said. “I would have given you one last night, but I was afraid it wouldn’t stay down.”

“About last night,” Chellis began.

“No need to apologize, Chellis,” she interrupted. “I’m just glad you’re feeling better. I was really worried about you, you know? I think you should see a doctor. Was it a migraine, do you think?”

“I, uh . . . I started feeling strange in the car on the way to the club. I kept seeing something that wasn’t there – a shimmering chevron pattern. I thought I’d looked at a bright light or something. It kind of grew until it filled my field of vision. I was having trouble seeing. Then the pain. I think I blacked out for a while. All I remember was it hitting me like a freight train, the nausea, and then we were here. I remember you helping me out of my clothes. What I don’t remember was getting to your apartment. Did I pass out?”

“I don’t think you ever lost consciousness. You tried to speak to me in the car. Do you remember that?”

Chellis shook his head slowly. He continued to look at Jule with a question in his eyes, but this time they were his eyes – not those others from the car last night.

They sat quietly at the kitchen passthrough while they sipped their coffee.

“Want some toast or something?” asked Jule. “I may have some cereal around.”

“I better get home,” he said. “Thank you again for last night. I don’t know what I would have done . . .”

“It was nothing, Chellis,” she said. “You would have done the same for me.”

They finished their coffee, Chellis went home, and spent the day resting. He was still feeling a little shaky and the headache kept threatening to return. As he reclined on his couch, he tried to remember exactly what had happened the previous evening. Just after the pain hit, he remembered feeling strange and confused. He didn’t know where he was, or remember what he was doing there.

The next thing he was aware of was entering Jule’s apartment, sleeping in her bed. He didn’t know or care at the time where he was, but felt embarrassed in the morning when he realized she had given up her bed for him. No, wait. There was more. He remembered thoughts rushing through his mind. Ways to improve the metallic nano-strings. Ways to make them even smaller. Forty, fifty percent smaller. It was a change in the process – if he could remember. If only he’d written it down. He rummaged through the pockets of the clothes he’d worn the previous evening. He found a crumpled tissue with some kind of diagram drawn on it. It was blurred and impossible to make out where the tissue had torn. It looked a little like John’s strange notebook jottings when he’d tried his nanites on himself. What the hell?

Part 10

Chellis called the lab the next morning to ask how his experiment with the strings was going.

“Still running, as far as I can tell,” said Chet. “Do you want me to do anything?” he added, sounding somewhat dubious about interacting with Chellis’s work in any way.

“No, just checking,” Chellis replied. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Listen, I’m not feeling very well – going to take a few days at home. Call me if anything changes, OK?”

“Sure thing,” replied Chet. “Hope you feel better. Take it easy, man.”

The exertion of the phone call had started his head pounding again, so he took a couple of the pain killers Jule had given him and laid down on the couch.

He woke with a start – loud ringing in his ears. No, not in his ears. It was his phone. All the way over there on the desk. He jumped up and grabbed it.

“Yes,” he said impatiently.

“Chellis, I hope I didn’t wake you,” Jule’s sympathetic voice came over the phone. “Is there anything I can do? Can I bring you something?”

“A new head,” said Chellis, trying for humor but sounding irritable. “Sorry, Jule, I’m not myself. Can I call you back tonight?”

“Sure. Feel better, Chellis.”

His head was throbbing seriously now. He checked his watch. It had been an hour since he took the pain pills – plenty of time for them to kick in. He took two more. Then ran to the bathroom to vomit them up.

He paced the floor, trying to think how to get relief. Maybe if I go to the lab. Once my mind is engaged in my work, I’ll forget about this lousy headache.

He splashed cold water on his face, combed his hair, and summoned a Ryde. While he waited, he retrieved the crumpled tissue and stuffed it in his pocket.

At the lab, he showed the tissue to Chet.

“What do you make of this?” he asked.

“First of all, let me say you look like hell!” said Chet. “You should be home in bed.”

“I know, but nothing I do relieves this headache, so I decided to come in. I can feel like shit here as well as at home.”

“What’s that scribble? Let’s lay it out flat. Here, put it between these sheets of Plexiglas. I’ll scan it. Maybe we can fill in the gaps where it’s torn.”

Chet fiddled with the image on the screen, making it brighter and clearer.

“That’s about as good as it gets,” he finally said.

“It looks like a molecular array,” Chellis said. “It’s different than the one I’ve been using, though. Maybe this one is . . .”

Breaking off mid-sentence, Chellis went to his computer to start calling up molecular diagrams. He began typing furiously, diagrams appeared on the screen, morphing with lightning speed. Chet barely understood the theories Chellis worked with to begin with. Now he was totally lost. Then Chellis started tearing down his experiment. Chet stood speechless while Chellis ripped apart the whole setup. He was in a frenzy.

Finally, Chellis stepped back, rubbed his eyes, and began putting the pieces of his experiment back together, but in a different configuration. Once satisfied with the structure, he turned to Chet with a strange smile.

“This could work!”

Chet stepped back. He’d never seen this side of Chellis. This brilliant consultant, made wealthy by Acadia’s buyout, was always soft-spoken and reserved. If something didn’t work, he patiently examined all his equations until he found the flaw. Chet didn’t know the Chellis before him.

By late afternoon, Chellis had set the new experiment running. He was sweating and pacing, obviously impatient for results. Chellis’s hands shook as he took the tissue out of the scanner and ordered Chet to delete all the files associated with the diagram.

“Sure thing,” Chet said. He didn’t know how this new Chellis would behave if angered, but he was afraid it would be bad.

“I’ll be back tomorrow to check on this. Don’t touch anything – or say anything to anyone. Right?”

“Right.”

Pulling out his phone as he left, Chellis was gone as suddenly as he’d arrived.

Chellis held his head in his hands as he rode home. The headache was raging now, getting worse by the minute. He barely made it into his house before he was sick again.

Moaning and rocking in pain, he curled up on his bed and tried to sleep.

Evidently, he was successful, because the next time he opened his eyes, the room was dark. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was almost 8:00. His head felt better, and he was hungry. At this point he would have settled for just being alive, so a reduction in pain, and hunger, was more than he could hope for.

He rose, freshened up, and started for the kitchen to see what he could eat, when the door buzzed. He saw through the glass it was Jule. He opened the door and stood aside, gesturing for her to enter.

“I was worried, Chellis. Chet told me you’d been to the lab, acting strangely. I’ve been calling, but it kept going straight to voicemail.” A frown of concern furrowed her brow.

“Sorry. I turned my phone off to get some sleep. What did Chet say, exactly? My visit to the lab is a bit fuzzy.”

“He just said you weren’t yourself. I couldn’t help but think of the other night on the way home from the club. That’s when you looked at me and I swear your eyes were someone else’s.”

“I don’t know, Jule. That evening is a blank. From when we were approaching the club until I woke in your bed the next morning. It’s all a muddle. Now, I have another fuzzy period from this afternoon. Evidently I went to the lab and startled Chet enough to make him contact you.”

Chellis sat at the island in his kitchen. Jule massaged the back of his neck.

“That feels wonderful. Keep it up. Down along my shoulders too.” Chellis sighed.

After another five minutes, she stopped and asked Chellis if he’d eaten anything all day.

“No, but my stomach is empty, I’m hungry.”

She rummaged in the fridge and found eggs to scramble, some soy sausages in the freezer, and bread still fresh enough to toast. She put the food in front of Chellis at the island and he began to eat, tentatively at first, testing his tricky stomach, then in earnest when the food went down easily.

“What’s happening to me, Jule?” he asked when he’d finished. “First these terrible headaches, and these blackouts or whatever you call them.”

“I think you should see a doctor. A friend of mine went to Dr. Westerfield at MGH. She comes highly recommended. She’s a neurologist who specializes in migraines and similar disorders. I can get her number.”

“Thanks,” said Chellis. “I’ll call her in the morning. Right now, I feel like I could sleep for twenty-four hours straight!”

“Go ahead to bed, Chellis,” said Jule. “I’ll just finish up here and let myself out. I’ll check on you before I leave.”

They kissed goodnight and Chellis put himself to bed. He was exhausted. His color was still ashen, and dark circles lay under his eyes. He was definitely not himself.

Part 11

In the morning, Chellis found a text from Jule with Dr. Westerfield’s number. He immediately called her office and was told she could see him at 4:00 that afternoon – there had been a last-minute cancellation.

“Dr. Westerfield, I’ve never headaches like these before,” said Chellis, sitting on the examination table in front of the doctor.

“I want to order a high-speed scan to be sure, but I’m not finding anything amiss with your brain, Mr. Englund. Ordinarily, these kinds of headaches start at puberty, and run in families. You said you don’t remember either of your parents suffering with migraines? Another cause of migraines can be a head injury, or lastly, a brain tumor. Since you didn’t hit your head recently, we can rule that out. The scan will show us if there’s a tumor, but I’m willing to bet money it’ll be clear. Your head appears just fine – which leaves us no explanation for the headaches you’re suffering.”

“It was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I thought I was dying – or having a stroke or something! I was seeing chevrons pulsing in my vision!”

“I know, it can be frightening if you’ve never experienced it before. I’ll write you a prescription. If you see that aura again – the chevrons, as you described them – take this medication immediately. It’s meant to abort the headache. It’s not really a pain killer. Migraines are caused by blood vessels dilating in the brain. This medication prevents that. The visual cues are caused by pressure on the optic nerve – usually a precursor to migraine. This should help, until we can figure out what’s causing the headaches. By the way, if you have another one, call my office immediately. I’ll give you a private number you can use after office hours.”

“What if I’m still having the same one?”

“That’s called a cluster migraine. Affects a small percentage of migraine sufferers. The headache can last 3 or 4 days. There’s a nasal spray administered in the Emergency Room that gives some folks relief. I’ll write you a scrip for a powerful pain killer as well. Don’t do anything taxing to brain or body while on these. They’ll put you on your back – but also knock out the pain – at least you can feel human while we figure out what’s causing this. If you’ll go around to the lobby, someone will call your name for your scan. Shouldn’t take too long. My office will let you know the results in a few days.”

“Thanks, Doc,” said Chellis. He shook her hand and she left him to put on his shirt and return to the dog-eared magazines in the waiting room.

After about twenty minutes, a nurse stepped out of a doorway and called his name. He followed her down the corridor into a dimly lit room with a long narrow bed jutting out the end of a large tubular structure. He removed his shoes, belt, wristwatch, and the signet ring he wore on his right pinkie finger, and lay on the bed. The nurse fastened his head into a sort of frame so he wouldn’t move it while being scanned. Then she left the room. The bed slid into the tube, he heard some clicks and a humming sound, and the bed slid out again. The nurse returned, helped him sit up, and told him he was all finished. The results would be sent to Dr. Westerfield and he would be notified.

Thursday morning, he went to the lab as usual. Chet and the two lab assistants eyed him cautiously when he entered. He looked at his experiment set-up with curiosity.  It was different than he remembered it, but seemed to be running along just fine.

“Did I do this?” he asked Chet.

“You don’t remember?” questioned Chet, leaning close and lowering his voice. “You came in here in a frenzy Tuesday morning, tore it all down and rebuilt this. Remember the diagram? You told me not to say anything to anybody.”

“Sorry, Chet. I was . . . I was having a bad day.”

“Well, what do you want to do about this,” Chet gestured toward the new experiment set-up.

“Let’s leave it run. Maybe it’ll make sense eventually.”

At noon, he headed for the cafeteria to look for Jule. He spotted her at their favorite table in the corner.

“Hey,” he said, as he sat down.

“Hey, yourself,” said Jule. “What did the doctor say?”

“Not much. My head seems to be fine, but she ordered a scan to be sure. I’m supposed to get the results in a couple of days. Meanwhile, I have medication that’s helping with the pain. It’s crazy. I feel great right now. I can’t believe I was so sick.”

“I’m just glad you’re better. I have another report to compile. It concerns things I didn’t even know Acadia was into! Technologies that control other tech. Kind of scary! They’ve issued me a temporary high security clearance to get access to the data I need for my report.”

“Do you think Acadia is into something unethical?”

“Not exactly, but the next step could lead to total control of some sort. It makes me nervous.”

“Me too. My worst nightmare is having my life controlled by someone else. Doing things I would never do on my own. I guess that’s why these last few days have been so upsetting. I feel like I’m losing control of my own mind!”

Chellis shook his head and laughed silently. “That’s ridiculous, I know. It’s just a bad headache. But I feel much better now. Would you like to get together tomorrow night?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Do you like Indian food?”

“Love it!”

“I know a great Indian restaurant in Cambridge. Haven’t been there since grad school, but I know it’s still open.”

Part 12

Chellis and Jule got to Cambridge in time to take a walk through the MIT campus before going to the Indian restaurant. Chellis pointed out a few buildings where he and Derek, and later John, had made their early discoveries with nanites. During dinner, he kept wondering whether he’d get another headache, or attack, or whatever it was. He was feeling just slightly strange, but the pain killers kept the headache at bay.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” remarked Jule. “Everything OK? Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “I was just thinking, you know, about last week. I was wondering what it all meant. I don’t think it’s a physical illness, Jule. It’s a mind thing. It’s like – oh – I don’t know. I felt like I was sliding into oblivion. Losing myself.”

They finished their dinner and took a Ryde to his place.

Making themselves comfortable, they discussed the research Chellis was doing with metallic strings. He told Jule about the strange set-up he’d found in the lab. He said Chet had told him that he, Chellis, had torn apart his previous set-up and started this one when he came in Tuesday afternoon.

“I don’t know, Jule. I thought all I wanted was to live my life quietly and do my work, but lately I’m kind of confused. I’m not even sure I know who I am right now. I think that visit from Derek has brought up old worries.”

He began rubbing his temple with his right hand.

“Tell me about your business – before you came here.”

“In California, we did some research using nanites to enhance thought processes. It was on the very edge of what’s legal in that field. Actually, our partner John stepped over the line. That’s when we bought him out and sent him on his way. But I have to admit, it was intriguing, very intriguing. The idea that we could use nanites to improve our brains is tempting.  If it wasn’t so dangerous – and illegal – I’d look into that avenue of research.”

“I’m surprised, Chellis. That doesn’t sound like you at all. I guess I thought you were more cautious than that.”

Chellis just shrugged. He had no answer. He thought he was more cautious too. What’s happening to me?

 “Would you care for a nightcap?” he asked, as he started for the kitchen.

“No thanks.”

Chellis poured himself a bourbon and came to sit beside Jule on the couch. He grabbed her shoulders and turned her body so he could embrace her and kiss her lips, hard.  His kisses and caresses became more and more urgent until he pushed her roughly back on the couch and began tearing at her clothes. When she tried to resist, he pushed harder. They started to struggle.

“Chellis, stop!” she shouted. She pushed at his shoulders and tried to squirm away, but he held her tight, pressing her down. She was panicking now. She got her right hand free and punched him in the cheek as hard as she could. His head snapped back, and she took that opportunity to slip out from beneath him. He gasped, stopped, and turned to look at her as she got to her feet. His eyes were the same cold eyes she’d seen a week ago. She shuddered.

Chellis blinked and shook his head slightly. He sat up and held his head in his hands. It was throbbing again. Jule was in a semi-crouch, ready to run if he made a move toward her.

“God! . . . I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted this evening to end.”

“I should go,” said Jule.

“No . . . please! Don’t leave. I’m scared, Jule. I feel like I’m losing control!”

Jule straightened her clothing and moved over to the chair that faced the couch. She sat silently, watching Chellis. What was happening to this wonderful sweet man? She waited while Chellis remained still, regaining his composure. He rose carefully and went to find his pain killers. After taking two, Chellis returned to the couch and rested his head against the back. He sighed deeply.

“Please stay.” He kept his eyes closed as he spoke.

“You should lie down, Chellis. Sleep it off.”

Chellis nodded and slowly rose and paused a moment to steady himself.

“Don’t leave me alone.” he said, his voice trailing off as he ascended the stairs to his bedroom.

Jule found a knitted throw at the end of the couch, laid down, and covered herself as best she could. Chellis’s huge bed upstairs would be more comfortable, but she wanted to keep her distance. She drifted quickly toward sleep.

She woke up to a loud voice coming from upstairs. Throwing off the coverlet, she raced up the stairs.

 “Chellis!” she shouted as she shook his shoulder. “You’re dreaming! It’s OK!”

“Huh?” Chellis turned onto his back and rubbed his face with both hands, massaging his eyes.

“You were yelling,” said Jule.

Chellis sat up. He shivered.

“I was having a nightmare. I was in the scanner – like Dr. Westerfield ordered – and someone was doing things to my head. I couldn’t move. It hurt like hell.”

Jule massaged Chellis’ neck and shoulders. It had helped him before. She was trying hard to make him feel better and be himself again. After a bit, he relaxed and lay back on the pillows. She stayed in the room, curling up on top of the covers on the far side of the bed – not touching him, keeping her distance.

In the morning, Jule woke before Chellis, quietly slipped off the bed, and made her way down to the kitchen to make coffee. Before she could pour herself a cup, he came in, dressed in casual slacks and a sweatshirt.

“Thanks for staying last night,” he began. “I don’t know what . . .”

“You scared me, Chellis,” Jule interrupted. “I didn’t even know who you were last night.”

He gave her an odd look.

“Scared you?”

“You don’t remember?

“I remember sitting on the couch with you – kissing. My pain killers must have stopped working because my head was hurting like crazy. Then I remember you waking me up. I think I yelled in my sleep or something.”

“I practically had to fight you off me. That was a side of you I’ve never seen. It frightened me.”

Chellis touched the bruise on his cheek. “God! I don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t think there’s anything you can say, Chellis.”

Before she left, Jule made Chellis promise to rest.

“I’ll be busy for a couple days. I have a ton of things to do. My parents were coming for a visit this weekend and I need to stock up on groceries – eggs, fresh fruit, bagels – and move my things to my guest bathroom. I don’t feel right making my parents sleep in the tiny guest bedroom and use the half bath off the hall, so I always insist they use my bedroom and the full bath when they visit.”

All that to let him know she was keeping her distance. He couldn’t blame her. He’d behaved like an ass. He’d never lost control like that with a woman before. It wasn’t him!

Part 13

Chellis spent the next several days in misery. Between guilt over his behavior with Jule, worry about what that did to their relationship, and the on-again-off-again headache, he felt lousy. Monday morning, he phoned Borg to explain he had some kind of lingering flu and would see him later in the week. He spoke to Chet to ask about the experiment.

“I have no idea,” said Chet. “All the lights are still on and no smoke is pouring out, so I guess it’s OK.”

“Don’t touch it,” warned Chellis. “If Borg or anyone asks, tell them it’s a new project I’m working on. Leave it alone!”

“Sure thing, Chellis.” Chet had no intention of going anywhere near that thing.

Later that day, Dr. Westerfield’s office phoned to schedule an appointment for Tuesday afternoon to discuss his scan results.

“Can’t you just tell me over the phone?” he asked.

“Dr. Westerfield likes to discuss these things in person – make sure you have an opportunity to ask any questions that might come up. Get a complete understanding of the situation.”

“All right,” he said.

“Can you be here at 2:00 tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sure.”

Somehow 2:00 Tuesday managed to arrive. Chellis was feeling impatient to get to the bottom of this whole thing and get on with his life. He’d patch things up with Jule and they’d go on like before.

“I want to do some further testing, Mr. Englund. May I call you Chellis?,” Dr. Westerfield was saying.

Chellis nodded.

Helen left the room for a few minutes and came back with an appointment slip.

“You’re all scheduled for a deep scan tomorrow. It will take much longer than the high-speed one you had last week. About an hour. Are you good with that?”

Chellis looked dubious. He was remembering his nightmare about being held in the scanner.

“I guess,” he murmured. “But what, exactly, are you looking for?”

“The high-speed scan showed some anomalies in your brain that could be nothing, or could be something. We won’t know until we get a better look.”

Wednesday morning, Chellis was up early. He hadn’t slept well. He drank a cup of coffee, popped some pain killers, and summoned a Ryde to take him to the clinic for his deep scan.

At the clinic, Chellis was ushered into a dimly lit room with an even larger tube than the one used for his high-speed scan. Following the same protocol, he removed everything metallic and lay on the bed. His head was fastened into the frame-like device. He was given a choice of videos to watch to pass the time while the scan was being done. He chose an old one about superheroes from the teens. Headphones built into the frame blocked some of the sounds of the scanner, and played the soundtrack of the video.

He tried not to think about his nightmare, and tried to relax and concentrate on the show. When it was over, the humming and clicks of the scanner were much louder. By now, his head was beginning to throb. He sincerely hoped it would be over soon. He was starting to feel nauseous.

Finally, the sounds stopped, the lights came up, and the bed slid out of the tube. A technician came into the room and removed the frame from his head and helped him sit up. He was dizzy and disoriented and sat on the edge of the bed for a couple of minutes to regain his equilibrium.

When he felt able, he got up, retrieved his shoes, belt, watch, and signet ring.

“Anything else?” he asked the tech.

“That’s all there is to it. You doctor will call you soon to go over the results.”

“Restroom?”

“Down the hall to the right.”

He rushed down the hall, thinking he was going to vomit, but the feeling passed when he got to the restroom. He splashed cold water on his face and summoned a Ryde home.

Taking more pain killers – he was going to have to get this prescription renewed – he laid down and slept for the better part of the day. When he woke, he tried calling Jule, left a message on her voicemail.

“Jule, I’m so sorry about the other night. Please call me.”

He sent her a text:

HEY. PLEASE CALL

No reply. He went to the kitchen to see what there was to eat, but nothing appealed. He texted Jule again. And again. Nothing. Finally, feeling miserable, he went to bed and tossed and turned again all night.

Two days went by. It was all a blur to Chellis. He alternated between sleep and wakefulness. He paced, he tried calling Jule again, he logged in to Acadia’s system and tried to get some work done from home, but he couldn’t concentrate. He felt lower than he had since his parents died – and more alone.

On Friday, Dr. Westerfield called to ask him if he was free that afternoon to come in to discuss his scan results.

“Certainly,” he replied. “I can be there by 1.”

“I’ve shown your scans to several colleagues,” began the doctor. “We can’t totally agree on a diagnosis, but two of my colleagues think they see signs of a parasitic condition in your brain. Have you traveled to Africa or Southeast Asia recently?”

“No! Parasitic condition? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t panic, Chellis. I just want to take a blood sample to rule that out. Meanwhile, how are you feeling?”

“Lousy. The headache comes and goes, and I’ve had several episodes of . . . it’s hard to put into words . . . not being myself. Saying and doing things totally out of character for me. And my memory of those incidents is fuzzy at best. What’s happening to me, Doc?”

“Please, call me Helen, Chellis. We’ll look at a blood sample and maybe then I can give you an answer.”

Dr. Westerfield used a lancet to prick the end of his left middle finger. Then she let a small drop of blood fall onto a microscope slide. While he held a square of gauze to the puncture, she placed the slide in the digital microscope. She tried to suppress a gasp when the image appeared on the screen.

Moving rapidly among Chellis’s red blood cells were small black specks. She adjusted some settings and the image zoomed to a higher magnification. Chellis had moved behind her chair to see the screen himself. Nanites! His blood was swarming with nanites!

He involuntarily stepped back. His mouth had gone completely dry. He tried to swallow, but his throat just clicked. He found a chair behind him and sat down . . . hard. What the bloody hell?

“Do you know what those things are, Chellis?”

“They’re nanites. I know them well. I designed them! Not these exactly, but this is what I do.”

“Has there been some sort of accident in your lab? How did these nanites get into your bloodstream?”

“You tell me!”

“When did the symptoms first present?”

“A little over two weeks ago. I came to see you right after the second episode. Everything in the lab has been routine. The nanites we produce at Acadia are a different design than these – much larger. We introduce them into the body by injection. And they expire after a few hours.”

“I think these nanites have gotten into your brain. That may explain the headaches. Not sure about the behavior incidents, or the memory loss. Don’t worry, Chellis. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“But how can these nanites still be active?” Chellis wondered out loud. “They should have expired within hours of the first attack!” He shuddered as he thought, self-replicating?

Part 14

While Chellis was feeling miserable, Jule was busy entertaining her parents. She took them to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, Legal’s for lunch, they walked most of the Freedom Trail, and drove out to Lexington to see the historic sights. Her parents had visited before, but loved playing tourist when they came.

The night before they left for home, Jules mother, Pearl, brought them all glasses of wine for a nightcap.

“Honey, we never got to meet your new boyfriend. You had told us we might.”

“It . . . didn’t work out.” Jule was looking at her hands, blinking rapidly. A sure sign to Pearl she was fighting back tears.

“I’m sorry, honey,” said Pearl. “I was hoping this was the one.”

“I was too. It’s just . . . he’s going through some stuff right now. He’s not himself. I told you he’d been having severe headaches – like the ones you used to have. Anyway, when he has one, he becomes a totally different person. I can’t cope with that.”

“Jule, do you care at all for this guy?”

“Yes.”

“He needs you more than ever right now. If you really love him, you should be trying to help him. At least be there for moral support. Don’t turn your back on him now.”

“I don’t know . . . I’ll think about it.”

The next day, after Pearl and Harry left for the airport, Jule picked up her phone.

As Chellis was riding home from the clinic, his phone rang.

“Chellis? It’s Jule. Can we talk? Can I come over?”

“Jule! I’ve been trying to reach you for days! Didn’t you get my voicemail, my texts?”

“I needed time to think, Chellis. We can talk about this when I get there. Twenty minutes?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Well, at least she’s willing to talk, he thought. He took a quick shower when he got home and waited for Jule.

As soon as he opened the door, she stepped in and put her arms around his neck for a solid hug.

“Jule, I . . .”

“Shhh. Don’t apologize. I realize now that you weren’t yourself. You would never behave like that. I trust you, Chellis, and I want to help you. I’m with you in this.”

“I . . . I don’t know what to say. The thought of losing you has made me realize . . . I love you, Jule.”

“I know. I love you too.”

They kissed and, arm-in-arm, went into the living room and both started talking at once.

“You go first,” said Chellis.

“My mom helped me realize, if I love you, I should be trying to help you through all this, instead of running away. I’m sorry, Chellis. I was frightened. I panicked.”

“Jule. You had every right to run away. But you have to know that wasn’t me. It was the influence of what I just found out is living in my bloodstream and my brain. Nanites!”

“What?”

“Somehow nanites are in my body!”

“From your work?”

“No. They’re not my design. Smaller. But not small enough to be without the painful side effects. At least I think that’s what’s going on. John experimented with nanites that could affect thought processes. That seems to be what’s happening to me. My thought processes are being interfered with.”

“I was talking to Borg. He looked at your diagrams from your new experimental setup. He thinks it’s a radical new approach to the metallic strings and could move Acadia decades ahead in nanite production, if it works. He thinks your new designs could lead to nanites small enough to break the blood-brain barrier and harmlessly enter the human brain for all manner of medical procedures. He thinks legislation will change regarding brain nanites in light of your new models!”

“I wish I could be happy about that, Jule,” said Chellis. “But those new designs aren’t totally mine. I wasn’t myself when I came up with them. I don’t even remember being in the lab that day!”

“But if these nanites in you aren’t your designs, whose are they, and how did they get in you? God! Someone introduced them without your knowledge?”

“I would have noticed an injection.”

“Is there any other way?”

“John put nanites into his brain using eyedrops.”

Jule immediately stood and retrieved the bottle of eyedrops Chellis kept on his bathroom counter.

“Like these?”

Chellis just stared. He was far away, deep in thought.

“Do you use these eyedrops often?”

“Every couple of days – since my laser surgery to correct my vision, for my chronic dry eyes. I use them whenever I feel the need.”

“Do you remember if you used them right before your first attack?”

“I don’t know.”

“Think, Chellis. You took a shower, got dressed, combed your hair. What was your routine?”

“I took a shower, combed my hair, got dressed . . . wait, yes, I remember using the eyedrops because I thought my eyes would get dry at the club. We need to get these tested. I’ll call the clinic.”

When Chellis got off the phone, Jule looked worried.

“Is it possible for these nanites to get transferred to another person?” she asked.

“God! I don’t know. I suppose. Jule, you need to get tested too! Wait, have you had any headaches?”

“No. Come to think of it, I haven’t had a headache in months. I get them very seldom.”

Chellis and Jule rode to Helen Westerfield’s office in silence, each deep in their own thoughts. After putting a drop of Jule’s blood on a slide, the doctor inserted it into the high-power digital microscope and put it on maximum magnification. The red blood cells looked huge. No nanites appeared on the slide. Just for good measure, Helen took another blood sample from Jule’s upper thigh. No nanites in that sample either.

Jule heaved a quiet sigh of relief.

“Evidently the nanites don’t transfer easily from person to person. I assume you two have exchanged bodily fluids in the last several weeks?”

They both nodded, Chellis with his face reddened.

“Now the eyedrops. If we find nanites in them, we can assume that’s how they got into my system, and be certain they are in my brain. My former partner, John, introduced nanites into his own brain once using eyedrops. The nanites traveled along the optic nerve into the brain.”

Helen had Chellis put a drop of the solution onto a slide, inserted it into the microscope, and adjusted the image on the screen.

The clear liquid was alive with nanites. Chellis shuddered.

“I’ve got to find out who did this,” said Chellis.

 “I’m afraid the immediate problem is how to get rid of them,” offered Helen. “Only folks in your field of expertise can figure that one. Do you have any colleagues who can help with this?”

Chellis was silent a moment, thinking.

“What about Derek?” suggested Jule. “He helped develop your nanites. Maybe he can figure it out.”

“Hmmm,” said Chellis. He and Jule stood to leave.

“Let me know what he suggests,” said Helen. “Or if you come up with something. I want to be included in this process and make sure you’re safe.”

On the way back to Chellis’s place, Jule asked,

“Are you going to phone Derek?”

“Not yet. I don’t know why, but I don’t want to include Derek on this yet. I’m not sure I trust him. He seemed a little too eager to forgive me for our falling-out when we sold to Acadia. He was extremely angry with me, Jule. He did a complete 180. Frankly, I don’t totally believe it.”

“Is there anyone else? John?”

“No! Derek warned me about John. I think he could be the one responsible for this whole mess.”

“But . . .”

“No.”

Part 15

Chellis was nervous, pacing the floor, rubbing his temple. Finally, he told Jule to go home. He was going to the lab to run some equations. Maybe he could figure this out on his own.

Jule was reluctant to leave, but Chellis was becoming more and more agitated, and he didn’t want her near him in that state. She summoned a Ryde and kissed him goodbye.

When Chellis entered the lab, Borg was standing at Chellis’s work space, going through files on his computer.

“Anything special you’re looking for?” he asked as he approached.

“Oh!” said Borg. “No, I was just looking at your diagrams. I think you’ve come up with something significant here. I hope you’ll continue along this line of inquiry. This could be the breakthrough we’ve been looking for. These smaller nanites will be ideal for . . . there are all kinds of possible applications.”

Borg stopped talking suddenly, as if he was on the verge of revealing something he didn’t wish to reveal. Chellis waited, but Borg just walked away.

Chellis patted his pockets for the bottle of pain pills. Damn! His head was beginning to throb again, and his thoughts were becoming fragmented and erratic. He sat in his chair and gripped the edge of his desk, trying to maintain control.

It all became perfectly clear to him. Borg’s interest in the smaller nanites, his apparent reluctance to share what they would be ideal for. Acadia was interested in doing something secret with nanites – maybe something illegal. Chellis was sure it had something to do with the nanites in his own brain. Maybe they wanted smaller and better nanites for mind control, if that’s what this was in his head. If they could eliminate the side effects, people might not even be aware their brains had been invaded by the nanites. They could be made to do almost anything! Chellis was sure now that Acadia, or at least Borg, was up to something covert. But he had no proof.

“Chet, can you access any of the high-clearance files here?” he called over to Chet, who was trying to be inconspicuous at his workspace.

“No, Chellis. I think you have a higher security clearance than I do.”

“Dammit! I need to look at those files.”

Then he remembered Jule had mentioned she’d been given temporary clearance for a big project she was working on. He phoned.

“I need your access code for the top security files at Acadia.”

“What? I can’t give that out! I had to sign a waiver . . .”

“Dammit, Jule. I need that code now!”

“I can’t!”

“I think Acadia is behind this nanite problem in my brain . . . ouch! I need to find out what they’ve been doing behind . . . ouch!”

“Chellis, what’s wrong?”

“It’s like the pain level goes up when I think about getting into . . . ouch!”

“Stay with me, Chellis. I’m getting into a Ryde right now. I’m on my way over. Let’s talk about something else. Tell me about your childhood memories. Tell me about a great vacation you took with your family.”

“We, uh, we went for a drive on Cape Cod all the way out to the end. We stopped in Hyannis for ice cream, and swam at Nauset Beach, we wandered around P-Town. I liked it because it was kind of spur of the moment. Not over-scheduled and planned like most of our trips.”

By the time Chellis finished talking about his family vacation to Cape Cod, Jule was coming in the door to the lab. She hurried to him and they turned together to the computer on his desk. The screen was still waiting for the access code.

 Jule sat and typed it in, then gave up the seat to Chellis. He immediately began scanning quickly through folders and files. There were a lot of them. After about 20 minutes, he sat back and rubbed his eyes.

“It’s no use. There are too many projects in here. I don’t even know what I’m looking for.”

“Let me try,” suggested Jule.

After another ten minutes, she opened a folder and the files it contained.

“How did you find this?” asked Chellis.

“I took a look at the date stamps on the folders. The most recent ones are probably the most active projects. Then I analyzed the frequencies with which they were accessed – another clue as to the priority of these projects. Finally, I just guessed.”

Chellis look carefully at all the files. His concern grew as he read.

“Acadia is developing programmable self-replicating nanites that can be introduced into the brain to affect a person’s very thoughts! They used my original designs, but must have employed some outside source to alter them. The new design I came up with last week will make all this possible. The considerably smaller size will eliminate the side effects and make the nanites undetectable under normal circumstances. Without symptoms – like the terrible headaches I’ve been having – people won’t suspect their thoughts are being tampered with. God!”

When Chellis finished speaking, he slumped back in his chair, obviously in severe pain. It had cost him to explain all that he had discovered in the files.

“Wait a minute,” said Chet. “Nanites in Chellis’s brain?”

“Someone secretly introduced nanites into Chellis’s brain – several weeks ago. We only found out about them earlier today. It explains a lot about what’s been happening to him. But now we have to find a way to get rid of them. I think that someone is communicating with the nanites in his brain, causing him pain, and making him do things. How would they do that?”

“Forkbeard,” said Chet. “That’s what I’d use.”

“The tech I use to turn on my lights when I’m on my way home?”

“Yeah. It works like Bluetooth used to, but has a much wider range. Devices are paired by passwords, and we can listen to our own music anywhere within a 10 mile range of our homes, access our printers, turn on our lights, all without using phone data. Forkbeard is free, encrypted, and untraceable.”

“Can you block the signals being sent to Chellis?”

“A Faraday Cage could.”

“A what?”

“It blocks all electronic signals. Our clean room is a giant Faraday Cage – for obvious reasons. Let’s put Chellis in there.”

Chet and Jule lifted Chellis out of the chair. It was a struggle because by now he was unconscious. His dead weight was much more difficult to deal with than if he was awake and helping. But Chet’s strength got him up and together with one under each arm they sort of dragged him to the clean room. Once inside, he started to come around.

“What?” he looked around, confused.

“You passed out,” said Jule. “We’re in the clean room. It’s blocking the signals being sent to your nanites. Should give you some relief.”

Actually, Chellis was starting to feel much better. He was still confused about how they happened to be in the lab. He had a vague recollection about some secret files they’d found.

Jule and Chet explained the events of the last hour. Chellis was extremely grateful Chet had thought of the clean room. It was a huge relief for him to be free of the pain, and the foreign thoughts he’d been having. For the first time in weeks, he felt like himself again.

Part 16

“Now what?” asked Chellis. “I can’t stay in here forever.”

“I’m workin’ on it,” said Chet.

 “Can I bring you anything, Chellis?” asked Jule. “Will you be OK for a while?”

Chellis looked around the room. Three work tables covered with computers and other electronic equipment, a couple chairs. His re-configured nanite experiment. Not exactly comfortable, but the tradeoff was that the nanites in his brain remained inactive. That meant no pain, and no strange thoughts and actions.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

Jule and Chet exited the clean room, closed the door tightly, and returned to the computers to see what they could figure out.

The files Jule had found in the system were still on the screen. The diagrams were beyond Jule’s comprehension, but Chet studied them carefully.

“I think I see what they’re after here,” he said. “Look, this is a shortcut here. They’ve totally eliminated the bridge transition between input and action. These nanites will be miniscule compared to what we have now. They’ll also be remotely programmable. I’m impressed! I’m theorizing here, but I’ll bet the nanites in Chellis’s brain are an earlier iteration of this design. Whoever originated this model knows their stuff!”

“I thought you barely understood what Chellis was working on?”

“I’ve picked up a thing or two along the way.”

“How far did you say Forkbeard’s range is?” asked Jule.

“Not more than 10 miles – and that would be in ideal conditions. No mountains or hills.”

“So if we get Chellis more than ten miles away from whoever is controlling the nanites, he’ll be OK?”

“Theoretically.”

“We’re getting out of here. I’m not going to tell you where we’re going, and I won’t call you when we get there. I’ll give you Dr. Westerfield’s contact information so you can let her know what’s happening. She’s the doctor who discovered the nanites in Chellis’s bloodstream. She wants to make sure any method we come up with to get rid of the nanites is safe for Chellis. I’ll contact you in a day or two and see how you’re doing. Meanwhile, Chellis and I will be working from our end. OK?”

“What if I don’t hear from you after a day or two?” asked Chet.

“I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait it out. It’s too dangerous to phone back and forth. Whoever has done this obviously doesn’t care if Chellis gets hurt. I won’t let that happen. Not if I can possibly prevent it.”

“Chellis is lucky to have you on his side!”

Jule went back to the clean room where Chellis was seated at a computer, looking at molecular diagrams, deep in thought.

“Chellis, Chet says if we get more than 10 miles from here, whoever is controlling your nanites can’t reach you. Let’s go. You can continue working on the issue from our new location. You stay here. I’ll go to your house and pick up whatever you need. Then I’ll come back here and we can leave.”

“I don’t like just running away.”

“We’re not. We’re getting you a safe distance away until we can solve this. Are you sure you don’t want to call Derek? He could help.”

“I don’t want to talk to either Derek or John right now. It’s probably one of them who’s done this. I need to understand more about the nanites before I can be sure. Bring my laptop. While you’re doing that, I’ll copy the files I need onto a thumb drive.”

“OK.”

“Bye . . . wait, I love you.” Chellis grabbed Jule and hugged her tight, then kissed her and she left.

Chet came in.

“Wow! I never knew your girlfriend was such a take-charge kind of girl!”

“Me neither. But she has a non-nonsense approach to any problem. I guess that’s how it manifests in an emergency.”

Jule summoned a Ryde to take her to Chellis’s house where she picked up his laptop, some clothes, toothpaste and toothbrush, shaving things, and whatever else she could think of that he might need. At the last minute she spied his bottles of pain killers on the kitchen counter and grabbed them. She put the bags into the back of the Ryde and directed it to her apartment. She grabbed what she thought she’d need, including her own laptop, and headed back to Acadia’s lab.

She left the luggage in the Ryde and directed it to wait. When she entered the lab, she heard raised voices. Borg and Chet were standing at the door to the clean room. Chet was blocking the door with his considerable bulk.

“Move aside!” shouted Borg.

“You need to leave, sir,” Chet was being firm, but respectful.

“Am I interrupting something?” asked Jule. She strode quickly up to insert herself between the two men. Borg involuntarily stepped back.

“I just want to know what he’s doing,” said Borg. “He’s been in there a long time.”

“He’s not doing anything special – just some trials on the new nanite design. We both think they’ll work, Borg.”

“Then why can’t I see?”

“It’s at a critical stage. If you open that door, the contamination could ruin days of work.”

Borg bought the nonsense Chet was feeding him and backed down.

“Well, tell him to send me a report as soon as he’s finished. I want to go public with this as soon as we can. It’ll drive our stock prices up and let us feed more funds into the project.”

Borg strode out of the lab, turning to warn Chet to keep him posted before he shut the door behind himself.

Both Chet and Jule shared looks of relief as soon as the door clicked shut. If Borg suspected they’d gotten into the secure files and that Chellis was copying them even now, he’d go ballistic. It was company policy to strictly forbid removal of any secure files from the premises, and if Borg was behind the illegal stuff, he’d have a lot to lose if he was found out.

“Chet, do you think Borg is behind the nanites in Chellis’s brain?”

“I doubt he designed the nanites, if that’s what you’re asking, or got them into Chellis’s eyedrops, but he could be the mastermind behind the whole scheme. I wouldn’t be surprised. I never liked that man.”

“But why Chellis? Why use him as their guinea pig?”

“Not sure, but it could be they wanted someone – someone with Chellis’s expertise – inside Acadia. Even under the influence of the nanites, it was his mind that came up with this new design. If either of Chellis’s former partners is in on this, they might also be looking for revenge for past wrongs”

“Chellis told me he still felt bad about the way they drove John out, and how he and Derek had fought about selling. He still thinks Derek holds a grudge, even though he said differently when he visited.”

Chellis was finished copying the files. He pocketed the thumb drive and came out of the clean room. He immediately raised his hands to his temples. The pain hit him even harder now that he’d had a brief respite.

He grabbed Jule’s shoulder to steady himself and they made their way quickly to the door and out to the waiting Ryde.

“Be safe!” shouted Chet as they rode away.

Part 17

Jule and Chellis visited an ATM and each withdrew the maximum amount of cash, then got on Interstate 95 north. They had to pull over once before they were out of range while Chellis was sick by the side of the road. As soon as they were out of range of Forkbeard, Chellis was fine again. They rode through New Hampshire, past Seabrook, on up to Maine, past Kittery, all the way to Ogunquit.

They checked into a small inn and carried their luggage up the two flights of stairs to their room. Once inside, Chellis set up his laptop and loaded all the files from the thumb drive, to continue his investigation. They had to figure out how the nanites in his brain could be disabled. Looking at the information in the files might also lead them to the person who had developed them and introduced them into Chellis’s system in the first place. Jule opened her laptop and Chellis passed her the thumb drive so she could also load the files. Then she started a spreadsheet and plugged in all the information they had about the nanites.

Neither spoke for about an hour while they stared at their screens, trying to make sense of the information before them. Jule had shared with Chellis on the ride up what Chet had discovered about the shortcut in the new design. Chellis thought he recognized John’s hand in that work-around.

“I think John is the one who developed these nanites in my brain,” commented Chellis. “The delivery system is identical to what he used on himself, and it looks like the designs in these files have his personality in them as well. I wish we had a digital microscope to examine my nanites, but I’ll bet these older files are the blueprints for them.”

“How are we going to disable them, Chellis?”

“There are all kinds of ways to disable nanites, but the method has to be safe to use in my brain. I don’t think we can use chemicals. There’s heat, or cold, but the nanites would need temperatures lethal to me to be disabled. I’ll have to think about this.”

Chellis sat back and stretched, massaging his neck.

“I’m bushed,” said Jule. “Let’s call it a night and come at the problem fresh in the morning.”

Jule got up and got ready for bed. When she came out of the bathroom, Chellis was making up the couch to sleep on.

“Chellis, you don’t have to do that. Come sleep in the bed . . . with me.”

“Sure?” asked Chellis.

Jule nodded. So Chellis got undressed and went into the bathroom to prepare for bed. He took his time, feeling a little awkward again with Jule. When he came out, she was laying on one side of the bed with the covers turned down, patting the other side. She smiled.

He climbed into the bed, then reached over tentatively to caress Jule’s cheek. She reached up and touched his cheek where she had hit him – was that just a week ago? He moved closer and leaned in for a kiss. Then their arms were wrapped around each other and they made love tenderly.

In the morning, after they had eaten a hearty breakfast downstairs, they returned to their room to continue working on their problem.

“Chellis,” said Jule. “Tell me again how that Faraday Cage worked?”

“It blocks any electronic signals – from any source – so we can work on the nanites in an electronically ‘clean’ environment.”

“Even if the electronic signal is really strong?”

“Yes. Even an EMP attack.”

“Can an EMP disable any electronic equipment?”

“It can totally disable a computer – render it useless. One was used in that terrorist attack in New York eleven years ago, but the computers on Wall Street were protected by Faraday cages so it had little effect. It made a lot of business people mad, though. Their computers all went down and they had to start trading in cash only, using paper to record the transactions. Took out a lot of cell phones too. Don’t you remember it?”

“I heard about it, of course, but I didn’t understand what happened to the computers. I thought there was a power outage.”

“No. It was the EMP.”

“I was just thinking . . . could an EMP disable the nanites in your brain?”

“Hmmm.” Chellis grabbed a tablet and started writing down equations. He did some figuring, then threw down the pencil in frustration. “The level of the EMP would have to be strong enough to disrupt the nanites, but not strong enough to kill me. I don’t know. I need equipment to do some testing.”

He picked up the pencil and continued scribbling equations. He worked quietly for a while. Meanwhile, Jule worked diligently on her spreadsheet. She was looking for a pattern to emerge, but didn’t have enough datapoints yet.

Finally, Chellis put down the pencil and turned to Jule.

“We’re going to have to go back,” he said quietly. “We can’t hide out here forever. I appreciate the break it’s given me, but I need to test the EMP theory. I think if we do this carefully, we can maybe make it work.”

“But you’ll be vulnerable to the attacks again. I hate to see you suffer.”

Chellis shrugged.

“I’ll talk to Helen. We can fine tune the EMP to be just strong enough to disable the nanites, but not strong enough to kill me.”

“Chellis, you passed out at the lab before we got you into the clean room. Whoever is doing this is ramping up the attacks. It almost seems like the nanites themselves are trying to prevent you from solving this!”

“That may be, but it’s the only way to get to the equipment I need to test our theories and make this happen. I’ll be OK.”

Chellis called Chet and told him they were heading back in the morning. Then he spoke briefly to Helen.

“Do you still have that bottle of eyedrops with the nanites in them?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ve been doing some testing on them – trying to find a way to kill them without harming you.”

“I may have a way, but I need to do some testing. I’ll phone you tomorrow when Jule and I get to the lab.”

In the morning, Jule and Chellis reluctantly packed their bags and checked out of the lovely inn.

They summoned a Ryde and were on their way before noon. Just before they passed Seabrook, Chellis took some pain killers and one of the migraine inhibitors Helen had prescribed.

He knew exactly when they crossed the invisible line that put them once again inside the Forkbeard range of his tormentor. He felt a sharp stab of pain above and behind his right eye, then the steady throb going straight back through his brain. The disorientation; the nausea; finally, the sped-up jumbled thoughts. He closed his eyes and tried to make himself relax.

At some point he opened the small notebook he’d brought and began scribbling diagrams and equations. Jule could make nothing of them; she didn’t understand much of what Chellis worked on, but she hoped he was coming up with a way to disable the nanites without harming himself.

Once back in Boston, Chellis called Chet.

“Chet.,” he said. “We’re on our way to the lab. I need to do some testing using the equipment there, but I think Borg will give me trouble if he knows Jule and I are there. Can you keep him busy in his office for a while?”

“Sure.”

Then Chellis called Helen.

“Helen, we’re on our way to the lab at Acadia. Can you possibly meet us there? I have an idea for disabling the nanites in my system, but I need to run some tests. Can you bring the bottle of eyedrops?”

“Sure thing, Chellis. I’ve discovered the nanites are pretty vigorous! It’s going to take something strong to disable them. It might be dangerous. I want to be sure you don’t take chances that could be harmful. I want to monitor this whole process closely.”

When Jule and Chellis arrived at the lab, Helen was already waiting in the parking lot. Chellis opened the door and the three walked in together. He turned on the pulse generator to give it time to build up an electromagnetic charge. Then Helen handed him the bottle of eyedrops and he placed a drop on a microscope slide. He put the slide in the digital microscope and waited until the image came up on the screen.

 Jule set up her laptop and placed it next to the microscope screen. She sorted through the copied files and found a diagram for a nanite labeled SRP. She looked at Chellis and he nodded. This was the one. Comparing the moving nanites in the eyedrops with the diagram on her laptop, even she could see they were the same.  She scanned through associated files and read that the nanites were self-replicating and programmable. There was no information about disabling them. Chellis could see how they were derived from John’s original design for the nanites John had introduced into his own brain. The big difference was that John’s expired. Chellis knew his would have to be killed.

Part 18

Chellis took the slide with the eyedrop sample and placed it in front of the generator. He directed everyone to go into the clean room while he stood behind a thick metal free-standing wall and remotely fired it up. They all watched anxiously to see what effect it had on the nanites. Of course, they wouldn’t know until he once again inserted the slide into the microscope. The nanites were still actively moving about. Chellis once again sent them all back to the clean room, made some adjustments on the pulse generator, and repeated the process.

By now, he was beginning to shake and sweat. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand.

Now that Helen understood the process, she helped by moving the slide back to the generator, standing behind the wall with Chellis, and putting it in the microscope to see if the nanites were still active.

On the fourth try, the nanites were no longer moving. Everyone cheered as if they had achieved a great triumph.

“Not so fast,” said Helen. “This strength of electromagnetic pulse would be lethal for a human.”

“This isn’t going to work,” sighed Chellis as he leaned heavily against a cabinet and massaged his temple.

Just then the inner door burst open and Borg strode into the lab, followed by a frustrated looking Chet.

“I tried to stop . . .” began Chet.

“What’s going on here?” Borg demanded. “And who is this?” He gestured toward Helen.

“We’re testing the nanites in my brain,” explained Chellis in a quiet voice. “We need to disable the nanites without killing me in the process.”

“In your brain? So he went through with it,” muttered Borg half under his breath. “I didn’t think he had the balls.”

“You’re in on this, aren’t you!” shouted Chet from behind Borg.

Borg whirled around to face Chet, then turned back toward the rest.

“I . . . honestly, I didn’t think he’d go this far! I never meant for anybody to get hurt. This research is supposed to help people . . .”

By now Chellis’s face was grey and his lips were white. He sank slowly into the first chair he could grab.

“Make it stop, Borg!” shouted Jule. “Make it stop!”

“I can’t,” replied Borg. “He’s got control of the nanites. I only offered access to the facilities here. I had nothing to do with the nanite designs, or, heaven forbid, getting them into your brain, Chellis. That was all him!”

“John’s got to be stopped,” said Jule. “Call him now – wherever he is – and tell him it’s over. Make him stop!”

“It’s not John,” Borg was saying. “It’s Derek. He told me he had a new design that would revolutionize brain power, learning, even thinking. He said the nanites would eventually have no side effects and everyone would be clamoring for them. It would change mankind forever.”

Borg was studying his hands now. He slowly shook his head back and forth.

Derek? thought Chellis.

“Call him,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

Borg phoned Derek and asked him to come immediately to the lab. Something had come up.

While they waited, Chellis seemed to rally. Evidently, the nanites were less active – and therefore less painful – when they were not receiving input from Derek’s Forkbeard device.

Twenty minutes passed. Jule was pacing. Helen examined Chellis. His blood pressure was slightly elevated and his pulse was racing, but he seemed to be doing OK – for now.

Derek arrived at the lab. Borg opened the door to let him in. When he saw them all standing around Chellis, who was still seated, he stopped. He pulled out his phone, opened an App, and Chellis immediately screamed in pain, holding the sides of his head. He got up and tried to get to Derek to stop him, but sank to his knees.

“Stop it!” screamed Jule. “Why are you doing this?”

She ran to Chellis’ side and helped him back to the chair.

“Derek,” said Borg. “Our agreement never involved hurting anybody. Why are you doing this? You promised me there’d be no live testing until the nanites were proven safe! We’re almost there with the new designs. Why couldn’t you have waited?”

“Don’t you see?” said Derek. “We wouldn’t even have these new designs if not for the nanites in Chellis’ brain. I always knew he was the one who could do it. All he needed was that extra boost the nanites gave him.”

“But at what cost?” interjected Helen.

Derek quickly focused his attention on her.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m Dr. Helen Westerfield. Chellis’ physician. If you’re the one responsible for introducing the nanites into Chellis’ system, and using them to manipulate him and cause him more pain, I must ask you to stop. You’re putting him at risk of permanent damage.”

Derek laughed a bitter laugh.

He fiddled with the App some more. This time Chellis fell unconscious from the chair. They all heard the sickening thud when his head hit the floor.

Jule rushed to Derek and tried to grab the phone from his hand. His larger size and greater strength enabled him to hold her at arm’s length with one hand while he held the phone away from her with the other.

Chet ran quickly up behind Derek and grabbed the phone from his grasp, threw it over toward Helen, and then grabbed Derek in a kind of bear hug from behind with one arm across his chest and the other across his throat. Derek called to Borg for help.

Borg just stood where he was and shook his head.

Realizing he was out-numbered, Derek relaxed in Chet’s grip and dropped his head.

“OK . . . OK. I won’t fight you. Don’t choke me!”

Chet released his mighty grip and they both moved over to the table near where Chellis lay on the floor. Chellis had begun to move a little and Jule knelt at his side, ready to help him up.

Helen came over and helped Jule get Chellis back in the chair. Borg came to the table. He sat on the opposite side, facing Derek.

“Why did you do it, Derek?” he asked. “Why would you secretly put untested nanites into someone’s brain? Don’t you realize how dangerous that is?”

“I wanted him to suffer.” Was all Derek said.

By now Chellis was fully alert. Still shaken and pale, but staring intently at Derek.

“You stole John’s design, didn’t you?” he said – more a statement than a question. “You made some tweaks, then put the nanites in my eyedrops when you came for that ‘friendly visit’. That was all a sham. You’re still angry about the sale!”

“You cheated me out of a fortune!” Derek replied. “We could have made hundreds of millions if we’d kept control of our designs. I couldn’t make it on my own. It was all you and John with the brains to develop our original nanites. After John left, it was all you. When you pushed me to sell out to Acadia, that was the end for me. I contacted John. Asked to join him in his research. He was still working on his own designs, trying to make his nanites safe for humans. I copied his files and opened a small facility in New York, where I produced enough of the nanites to introduce into your brain. I knew once you were infected, you’d take the design to the next level. And you did, Chellis. Borg and I are almost ready to go public! This is huge!”

Chellis was stunned. How could he not have known that Derek held such a grudge over the sale of their company? How could he not have suspected that Derek was the one who had ‘infected’ him – as Derek termed it – with the nanites? How could he not have known all this? Because he was too busy living the good life, plodding along with his research, falling in love.

“Derek, what you’ve done to me is criminal, and you should go to prison, but I won’t press charges if you’ll help me get rid of the nanites. You may go to prison for theft of John’s design, or some other charge, but I’ll speak on your behalf if you’ll help me.”

“Why should I?” Derek spat.

“Because we were once friends. We worked side by side to build what we had. It wasn’t just John and me. If not for you, we wouldn’t have had any investors – or clients. You did all that, Derek. We all three brought separate skill sets to the business, but yours was key. After we sold to Acadia, you were invited to join me in my consulting role here. Or you could have partnered with some other bright minds to build your own empire – LifeScan, you called it?”

“That was a lie,” said Derek. “I wanted revenge. I wanted you to suffer. I wanted to use you. Then, when I visited and saw how happy you were with Jule, I hated you even more! I had to make you pay! Now . . . I don’t care. You’ve developed the breakthrough design for the nanites that eluded John and me. It’s over.”

“It’s not over, Derek,” said Chellis. “I still have these nanites swarming in my head. All over my body! You need to help me get rid of them.”

“I can’t. I don’t know how. I never thought ahead that far. I assumed once we perfected the nanites so there would be no side effects, people would keep them forever. I didn’t care what happened to yours.”

Part 19

Jule was pacing again. She and Chellis had gone to his house so he could rest. Helen had insisted they stop by the clinic to have the bump on his head looked at. She worried he may have a concussion. He did. It was a mild one, but he and Jule left the clinic with a caution for him to take it easy for a couple days, rest a good deal, and call immediately if anything came up.

Chellis had a raging headache, ringing in his ears, and the room kept tilting, but otherwise he felt fine. Just fine. Oh, except for the upset stomach. The only thing likely to come up now was his last meal.

He took some more pain killers and Jule tucked him into his huge bed upstairs. Then she went down and once again opened her laptop to work on the nanite problem.

Since she didn’t have Chellis’s scientific expertise in nanotechnology, she relied on her own expertise with data. She continued to plug data into her spreadsheets based on the files they had copied from Acadia. Eventually, a pattern would emerge. She didn’t know if it would lead them to a safe method to disable the nanites, but she hoped it would.

Meanwhile, Helen and Chet remained in the lab, working on the problem there, using samples from the eyedrops to test each theory they dreamed up. They tried ultrasound, infrasound, lasers, radiation, pressure. Everything they bombarded the eyedrops with eventually killed the nanites, but needed enough strength to kill or permanently harm a human. They left for the night feeling discouraged.

Borg had made Derek accompany him to his place, even though Derek assured them all that he wouldn’t do Chellis any more harm. Nevertheless, Borg wanted to keep an eye on him. The phone with the Forkbeard App was now safely locked away in Borg’s office. At least Chellis would have some relief.

By midnight, Jule was feeling stiff from staring at her laptop screen, where she’d sat for the last three hours, since she stopped pacing. She was frustrated and extremely tired. She climbed the stairs to Chellis’s bedroom. He was sound asleep. She got ready for bed and slipped under the covers, falling immediately into an exhausted sleep.

In the morning she woke to find the other side of the bed empty. When she heard small sounds coming from downstairs, she realized Chellis was up and about. He must be feeling better. She rose, got dressed, and went downstairs.

Chellis was dressed in casual slacks and a t-shirt, but his feet were bare. He stood at the island in his kitchen, sipping coffee from a large mug. Jule went to him and put her arms around his body, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“You gave me a huge scare yesterday,” she said. “I thought Derek was going to kill you!”

“Derek may have been misguided, but he’s not a murderer. I think he sincerely wants to help now.”

“How do you feel? How’s your headache?”

“Pounding away, as usual,” answered Chellis. “I can’t tell if it’s from the nanites or the concussion. I think the concussion. But I feel a lot better after a night’s sleep. I’m anxious to get this solved. I feel like there are parasites living in my body, eating me from the inside.”

Jule shuddered at the analogy. She made herself a cup of coffee and pulled up a stool.

“How are we going to solve this, Chellis?”

“I’m going to try to reach John. He’s the only other person I know with the mind to come up with a solution. He used to come up with all sorts of quirky solutions when we were stuck on a problem. That’s what we need now – a quirky solution. I need to contact Derek. He’ll know how to reach John.”

“I think Borg took him to his place. He wanted to keep an eye on him.”

Chellis called Borg and asked to speak to Derek.

“Derek,” said Chellis, his voice flat.

“Listen, Chellis,” began Derek. “About . . .”

“I only want to ask you for John’s contact info,” interrupted Chellis. He was in no mood to hear explanations or apologies from his former friend.

After listening a moment, he ended the call and immediately punched in the number Derek had given him to reach John.

“John, Chellis here . . . Yeah, it’s been a long time . . . I hear you worked with Derek for a while . . . I know . . . He’s here in Boston. He admitted he stole your nanite design. I have a problem, John, and I need your help. . . Derek put the nanites into my eyedrops and now they are all through my body – especially in my brain. They self-replicate, so I can’t just wait it out until they expire. I need to find a way to kill them without killing myself. Derek has stopped using his App via Forkbeard to make me do things, but I still have a killer headache and some other side effects. I just want them gone. Can you help?”

Chellis nodded a few times, then, “See you tonight. ‘Bye.”

He looked at Jule with a hopeful smile.

“He said he’d help. He sounded happy to hear from me – for John. He’ll be here tonight. I’m going to text him my address so he can come directly from the airport. I’ll put him up here in the guestroom downstairs. We can get started tomorrow.”

“So all is forgiven? He doesn’t resent you over the buyout so many years ago?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was my own guilt making me think he resented it. At the time, he seemed indifferent. Maybe that’s true. Maybe he really didn’t care. It’s hard for a person like me to get inside the head of a person like John.”

“I’ve had this picture in my head of an unfeeling robot-like person who wouldn’t care if he hurt you. I thought it was him all along who put the nanites in your head. It’ll be interesting meeting him in person. I want my mind to be changed about him. I want him to be able to help us.”

Jule left after they had eaten breakfast – just toast and coffee. She made Chellis promise to take it easy. She was going to check on progress at the lab. She assured Chellis she’d phone him if they came up with anything.

At the lab, Chet and Helen had their heads together over a computer screen full of numbers and letters. Jule didn’t really understand the science but the patterns of numbers looked familiar. She recalled her spreadsheet with the datapoints.

“What are those?” she asked.

“Frequency tolerances for the nanites,” answered Chet. “But it’s a dead-end. Vibration frequencies that even come close to disabling these nanites would destroy Chellis’ brain matter. He’d be a vegetable.”

“Chellis has spoken to John,” she told them. “He’ll be here tonight. Chellis is hoping he can come up with a solution none of us has thought of yet.”

“Well, I guess we might as well call it quits for now,” said Helen. “How is Chellis doing?”

“He doesn’t say much, but I think he’s hurting more than he lets on. He promised to take it easy today.”

“Well, let me know if you think he needs medical attention. Prolonged sleepiness, dizziness, nausea, that sort of thing. Call me.” Helen looked intently into Jule’s eyes to drive home the seriousness of the situation. Jule nodded.

“Chet, I’ll phone you as soon as John arrives,” said Jule. “He may want to do some work here at the lab. Will that be OK with Borg?”

“I’m sure it will. He’s tied up keeping an eye on Derek for now. I’m sure he wants to help in any way he can. He feels guilty about having let Derek get so far amok.”

Jule summoned a Ryde and went back to Chellis’ house. He was lying down on the bed, but not sleeping. She sat on the bed beside him and rubbed his arm.

“It’s going to be all right, Chellis. I know! John will have a solution and you’ll be rid of the nanites for good. I have a good feeling about this.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think it’s going to be that easy. If John can’t solve this, I’m sunk.”

“Don’t get discouraged. We’re all working on it. Somebody will fix it.”

Jule got up and asked Chellis if he was hungry. It was past lunchtime.

“No, thanks.”

“Well come down if you get hungry. You really should eat. Coffee and toast is all you’ve eaten since yesterday.”

Jule went downstairs and made herself a half sandwich. She opened her laptop for one more look at her spreadsheets while she ate. One of the areas that caught her attention was the behavior of certain nanites toward other nanites. She stared thoughtfully at the details while she chewed her sandwich.

Part 20

John arrived at 11:30. He nodded toward Jule when Chellis introduced them, then addressed his remarks in Chellis’s direction, not really making eye contact with either of them.

“All you’ve tested so far have been outside influences on the nanites. They’re harmful enough to your tissues and brain that none are feasible. A direct assault on the nanites from within is better. I brought a group of nanites programmed to attack the ones in your body. They’re self-replicating, but they do have a diminishing expiration date. Each iteration exists for a shorter time than its predecessor. As they destroy Derek’s nanites, they eventually expire, until all Derek’s nanites are gone and mine gradually disappear through attrition.”

“I knew you’d come up with something!” Chellis stepped forward to hug John, then thought better of it and grasped his shoulder instead. “How soon can we get started?”

“Anytime,” said John.

“I think we should wait until morning and do this at the clinic,” said Jule. “We should have Helen in attendance. We want to make sure there’s medical help available in case there’s a problem.”

She looked from Chellis to John, silently asking for agreement. John appeared annoyed, but Chellis nodded.

“OK, that’s settled. I guess you two have some catching up to do. I’m going upstairs. ‘Night.”

After Jule climbed the stairs and disappeared, Chellis turned to John.

“So, John, tell me what you’ve been doing with your research these last few years.”

“These.”

“What?”

“These new programmable nanites. They’re essentially the same ones Derek stole, but no side effects. Lots of potential. But, I know, still on the wrong side of the laws. I’m trying to get the laws changed.”

“Are they safe?”

“Of course.”

“If this works, John, I’ll help you get the legislation through to make them legal. This could change the way medicine is practiced. Instead of waiting for health problems to crop up and then trying to fix them, they could be prevented. I think Helen – Dr. Westerfield at the MGH clinic – will help us.”

Chellis showed John to the guest bedroom, then said his goodnight and went upstairs to join Jule. She was sitting up with her laptop, staring at one of her spreadsheets.

“I could do this science, Chellis. See this spreadsheet? It shows behaviors of nanites programmed differently from each other. Sometimes they work together, sometimes they try to destroy each other. This data is from the files at Acadia, but it’s the same kind of thing John has been working on – only it looks like he’s done it.”

“I hope,” said Chellis.

In the morning, they were all up early, drank some coffee, and headed out. No one was interested in eating. They arrived at the clinic just minutes before Helen. Chet was already there. Borg and Derek showed up a little later. Chellis had texted them all the night before with John’s proposed solution.

The first thing Helen did was take a blood sample from Chellis’s arm.

“We’ll run a preliminary test on this sample. This whole process might be extremely unpleasant for you, Chellis, and I want to make sure it’s safe and finishes quickly. John, where are your nanites?”

“Here.” John handed a bottle of saline to Helen. It contained his nanites suspended in the liquid – kind of like Chellis’s eyedrops.

Helen started with a drop of Chellis’s blood on a slide, added a small drop of John’s nanites, then inserted it into the microscope. They all crowded around the screen to see the results. At first, they noticed that John’s nanites were much much smaller than the ones in Chellis’s bloodstream. They were also moving, and replicating much faster. As they watched, the smaller nanites began connecting to the larger ones by twos and threes, and the larger ones simply broke apart. It was amazing!

The smaller nanites kept up their behavior of replicating and attacking until all of the larger nanites were gone. Then they also began breaking apart faster than they were reproducing themselves. Eventually, they were gone as well. In such a small sample, this process didn’t even take an hour, but they all knew it would take much longer inside Chellis’s body.

The big concern for Chellis was how would it feel? Would he feel pain all over? Would he survive?

“I’m still not entirely certain this procedure is safe, but it will definitely work,” said Helen. “Once we inject them into your bloodstream, there’s no going back. It’ll be like the lady who swallowed the fly. But I don’t think we have any choice. Chellis, are you OK with this?”

“Absolutely. John’s done some stupid stuff, but I trust his science.”

Helen directed Chellis to lay on the examination table. She put a monitor on his fingertip and an EEG cap on his head. His vitals showed on the screen beside the table. She filled a syringe with John’s nanites and, with a deep breath, injected it into Chellis’s vein. They all waited. Chellis felt nothing at first, then a ringing in his ears. His arms and legs began to tingle and he felt very cold.

“What’s happening?” he asked, as his vision began to close in and darken. Suddenly, he couldn’t see a thing.

“This is normal,” said John.

Chellis and Derek feared how John must know that.

Helen continued to monitor Chellis’s heartrate and other vitals. They all seemed within normal range.

Eventually, Chellis sank into unconsciousness. Jule, Derek, and the rest looked worriedly toward Helen. She reassured them his heartbeat was strong and the rest of his vitals looked good. They continued their vigil at his side for six hours altogether. Chet crowded chairs for everyone into the smallish room. Borg went out and brought back coffee and sandwiches for all.

After five hours, Chellis’ eyelids began to flutter and he regained consciousness.

“Chellis!” exclaimed Jule. She rushed to his side and looked into his eyes.

“Jule . . .” Chellis cleared his throat and began again. “Is it over?”

They all looked to Helen for an answer. She drew another blood sample. This time the microscope screen showed a few larger nanites still being attacked by the smaller ones. They waited. Chellis seemed to be rallying. He wanted to sit up so he could watch the monitors.

Part 21

It’s been a year now since Derek slipped the nanites into Chellis Englund’s eyedrops and they replicated themselves throughout his system, including his brain, since the nanites developed by John Alan, his former – and now current – business partner destroyed them. Chellis had undergone a deep scan immediately after the procedure, then another after three months, then one six months after that. Everything was normal. No more nanites.

Chellis and John had partnered again to improve John’s new nanites. Legislation finally caught up with their science and medical watchdog brain nanites were about to be made legal, if they met certain criteria. Dr. Helen Westerfield, lately of MGH Clinic in Boston, headed up the government commission tasked with overseeing approval of any and all brain nanites developed. So far the ones developed by Chellis and John held the most promise. They had omitted the programmability feature so nobody would ever be as vulnerable to malicious attack as Chellis had been when Derek manipulated him with his Forkbeard App. But their nanites did improve brain function, enhance learning abilities, self-replicate, and monitor general health conditions in the body.

Derek moved back to New York to retire. He and Chellis had one final conversation before he left.

“Chellis, I don’t know what to say to you. I was so obsessed with getting revenge, I didn’t think through the consequences of what I did. I was convinced your decision to sell our designs to Acadia cheated me out of my due fortune. You never pointed out, nor could I admit, those designs were yours. I had little to do with their success. The science was all you – and before that, John.”

“Derek,” began Chellis. “I told you before, you contributed to our business as much as John and I, in the form of our public face.”

“I guess. Anyway, I hope you don’t hate me for what I did to you. I wasn’t thinking straight. I charmed Borg into going along with me, not telling him all the details of what I planned. I stole John’s original design. I used the facilities at Acadia to develop the nanites I put in your eyedrops, telling myself I was using you for testing purposes. I really wanted to make you suffer. And you did. More than I could have imagined. I’m sorry. What more can I say?”

“Nothing. I don’t hate you, and I’m not pressing charges. I don’t even know if there exists a law against what you did. If I feel anything toward you, it’s sadness. I’m sad we couldn’t remain friends after the buyout. I’m sad you felt you needed revenge. I’m sad we have to say ‘goodbye’ now. I’ve moved on. I’m getting ready to marry the most intelligent and beautiful woman I’ve ever known and I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I wish I could ask you to come to the wedding, but . . .”

After Derek left, Chellis felt bad. He wished things had ended differently with Derek, but he wasn’t willing to be friends again with the man who had done such terrible things to him. He forgave Derek, but wanted him out of his life.

Chellis had proposed to Jule ten months after the nanite incident. It wasn’t a big spectacular proposal like most people did – hiring a sky writer, or an internet blitz, or an electronic banner. He took her to Dirk’s club for a fun evening of dancing, then, when they had a quiet moment at their table just before last call, he pulled a tiny box out of his pocket. He took both her hands in his, blushed deeply, and said, “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Jule. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

He held his breath while he waited for her answer, then realized she was already giving it. While he was gazing at their hands, too nervous to look her in the eyes, she was vigorously nodding. They both laughed, he put the ring on her finger, and they hugged and kissed.

Chellis and John hired Borg to administer their growing business, and they were set to surpass Acadia in revenues in another six months.

Chellis and John sat dreaming one evening over glasses of whiskey in Chellis’s living room. They imagined that as people had the new nanites injected into their systems, they would become better in whatever field their talents lay. Musicians would become better musicians, artists would become better artists, scientists would become better scientists. The nanites would be expensive at first, but as popularity grew, and John and Chellis thought of ways to make production more efficient, they would reduce the price. Everyday folks would be able to afford them.

Society would change. People would be able to make better decisions. There would be less crime. It’d be the dawn of a whole new era. Little had they known, when they began their small start-up in California, where their research with nanites would take them – and how they could change the world.