The Einstein Pursuit

49

The car crested a small slope and stopped near a meticulously groomed wall of shrubbery that shielded the property beyond from the prying eyes of those on the street. Between the road and the hedge was a wide iron gate: another deterrent that ensured privacy.

Payne watched as Stanley lowered the window and pressed his hand against a scanning device. A series of six lights lit up in turn — the first for his palm, then one for each of his fingertips — and Payne could hear the distinct ping of the magnetic locks disengaging. The electric gates retracted, allowing access to the driveway.

As they drove past the protective blockade of landscaping, the back half of the magnificent estate came into view. Though no stranger to prime real estate, Payne was impressed with the natural design. The multi-tiered structure was a collection of distinct bungalows. In the center was a larger main area. Together they appeared to Payne as southern California’s opulent version of a quaint bed and breakfast. They passed a small fountain in the middle of the driveway’s roundabout and pulled up next to the building’s stately entrance.

‘Let me show you around,’ Gambaro said with a smile.

Payne, Jones and Sahlberg exited the car and followed.

On the other side of the carved wooden doors, they found a warm, inviting lobby with floor-to-ceiling glass walls that faced the back half of the property. Payne could see more bungalows lining the rocky bluffs and a perfectly manicured lawn that stretched more than two hundred feet. At the far end was a patio that overlooked the pounding surf of the Pacific Ocean below.

‘Holy crap,’ Payne whispered to Jones. ‘Frank Lloyd Wright outdid himself on this one. I might need to buy this place.’

‘If you do, please hire me as the pool boy.’

‘Pool? What pool? I haven’t seen one yet.’

‘Me neither,’ Jones admitted, ‘but let’s be honest, I’m not going to clean it anyway.’

Gambaro led them to the second floor, a trip that took nearly a full minute. At the top of the stairs, the landing opened on to a rooftop terrace dominated by a massive circular table. It was like something out of Camelot, only with ocean views. Seated around the table were an elderly woman and two men who were considerably younger.

‘Welcome,’ the woman said without standing. ‘I am Rita Dawson. And you are Jonathon Payne and David Jones, correct? Come now, which is which?’

They could tell from her accent that she was Australian, and based on her sunglasses — which were oversized and opaque — she was also blind.

‘Jon Payne, ma’am.’

Rita turned toward the sound of his voice. ‘Ma’am, is it? No need for formality. Rita is fine.’

‘David Jones,’ Jones announced.

‘Very pleased to meet both of you.’ She smiled and turned her focus toward Sahlberg. ‘Mattias, how long has it been?’

‘Too long,’ he answered as he stepped forward and kissed her on the cheek. ‘You’re as beautiful as ever, my dear.’

Rita blushed as Payne and Jones looked on. ‘Please, everyone sit down.’

The younger men extended their hands in greeting as Payne and Jones approached the table.

‘Charles Fell,’ said the first, his words tinged by his Welsh heritage.

‘Benjamin Grossman,’ the second added with an Israeli accent.

‘Tell me,’ Rita asked, ‘what has Juan Carlos told you of our little collective?’

‘Enough to get us started, but clearly not everything,’ Payne replied.

‘Then you have more questions?’

‘We do.’

‘By all means, fire away!’ she implored. ‘We have nothing to hide. If we did, we wouldn’t have brought you here in the first place.’

‘Let’s start there. Where are we? What is this place?’

‘This is one of the properties we own — a sanctuary where our members can find peace and quiet and, if need be, isolation. The rooms are all self-sufficient, but there are also communal areas such as the kitchen, library and media room. And of course the outside facilities: the pool, spa and sunset patio.’

Jones smiled at the mention of the pool. ‘Sounds like a pretty good deal.’

She nodded. ‘Our intention is to provide a stress-free atmosphere for our visitors. The more serene the environment, the more comfortable the guest. The more comfortable the guest, the more they can focus.’

‘Focus on what?’

‘Whatever issue they’ve come to tackle,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Our members represent a wide range of disciplines from countries around the world.’

‘And they can just show up whenever they’re in town?’

‘Of course. They are welcome here, or at any of our other residences.’

‘How many properties do you own?’

‘Several. In the United States alone, we have the west coast bungalows here, a ranch in Colorado, houses in Chicago, Seattle and New York City, a collection of villas on St Thomas in the US Virgin Islands, and a breathtaking place in Malta.’

‘How does someone join the Einstein Group?’

‘Members must be invited. And invitations are extended only to those who have demonstrated a significant contribution to their field or fields.’

‘Tomas Berglund was a member?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about the lab in Stockholm?’

‘What about it?’ she asked.

‘Was it an Einstein facility?’

‘No,’ she answered. ‘The first we heard of it was after the explosion. It had nothing to do with our work.’

Jones spoke up. ‘That doesn’t make any sense. A facility of that size, with all the prominent names working there — how could he keep something like that a secret?’

‘It would take an effort,’ she admitted. ‘But the question that concerns us isn’t how he kept it a secret. The thing that worries us is why.’

Payne and Jones exchanged nervous glances.

Rita continued. ‘For the last three decades, Tomas Berglund has been one of our most treasured assets. His brilliance in the area of practical application was unlike anyone we have ever seen. His creativity was never challenged, but his impulses grew to be somewhat of a concern.’

‘Meaning what?’ Sahlberg asked.

Grossman cleared his throat. ‘No disrespect, Dr Sahlberg, but you certainly realized that Tomas didn’t always agree with the ideals of our institution. In particular, the ways in which we disseminated information to the general public.’

Jones laughed. ‘In other words, you have a bunch of secrets.’

Grossman nodded. ‘Tomas felt we should be more open with our discoveries. He argued that we should always look to push the pace of scientific advancement. We agreed with the latter sentiment — in fact, we like to think we were the motivating force behind many of the greatest scientific advancements of the past century — but we challenged his notion of how to share this information with the world at large.’

Fell explained. ‘New discoveries and new technologies often need to be released in a limited stream to protect humanity from itself. For instance, our scientists have developed a cure for the common cold. We’ve had it for several years now. However, if we flood the market with this product, there’s a chance the rhinoviruses and coronaviruses — the two most common cold viruses — will mutate into something more problematic. If we’re not careful, coughs and sniffles may be replaced by bloody noses and lung tumors.’

‘No thanks,’ Jones said.

‘And Berglund didn’t agree?’ Payne asked.

‘Tomas pushed for research we did not necessarily feel was in the best interests of mankind. The more we attempted to steer his endeavors back toward projects we were comfortable with, the more palpable his frustration grew.’

‘This is true,’ Sahlberg confirmed. ‘Tomas was frustrated by the methodical pace of the group. He would often reach out to me in the middle of the night in search of an understanding ear. Typically I could calm him down and make him realize that these were small concessions when compared to the greater good.’

Payne grimaced. ‘I’m not trying to be difficult, but what gives you the right — any of you — to determine what anyone should or should not be researching?’

Rita answered. ‘We have a responsibility to protect the world from the misuses of our collective knowledge, do we not? It is a tenet we have held to since the beginning. Without it, we are doomed to a similar fate as Oppenheimer. Having realized the magnitude of his atomic bomb, he said, “Now, I have become death, the destroyer of worlds.”’

Jones groaned. ‘Let’s hope that isn’t what Berglund had in mind.’