Chapter 34

Roku sulked in the shadows along a row of buildings, his gaze darting furtively from the sidewalk to the street and back again. Since being alone and on his own, he’d learned that the streets during daylight hours were dangerous and were safe only after dark, when there was less traffic and fewer pedestrians. Since yesterday, however, there were many more men with uniforms driving black and white cars with lights on top. They seemed to be everywhere, and now and then, Roku saw them talking to a man or woman on the sidewalk.

In his quest for food, he’d found a small shop that had bread in the window, so he had broken the glass and taken a number of loaves back to his tunnel. He was beginning to find his way around and remember where he was and the routes to his tunnel that were safe and devoid of people, especially the men in the black uniforms.

Now he ducked into an alley and lumbered among the trashcans until he found one that smelled of food and began scavenging through its contents. Whatever it was, it smelled good, and, when he had it in his hand, he gobbled it down in several large bites. Roku found he no longer needed to kill to eat and survive. The people who lived here put food in metal containers behind their houses and stores, and he was able to scavenge enough to eat.

Still, he didn’t understand many things.

Where was Mother and why had she left him alone?

Why was he different from her?

Mother and the other people could use their mouths to communicate with each other. Why was it necessary for him to use his hands to make strange shapes for Mother to understand him?

But most of all, the one thing he wondered most was--

Who was he?

Finished eating, he continued down the alley to where it emptied onto a large street. It was dark and absent of people. He looked around then started across the street.

All of a sudden, there was loud shouting.

Glancing behind him, he saw two men in black uniforms pile out of a black and white car. In the dark, he could see their faces, and they looked like Mother when he had done something bad. And they were running toward him. And shouting.

Roku turned and lumbered across the street and down the sidewalk. The shouts were still behind him. He found an alley and plunged into its darkness, but the shouts were now closer. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the men had something in their hands.

He heard a loud explosion.

Pain shot through his shoulder. But he kept running, knocking over barrels and cans as he did.

Another loud retort.

This time there was a pain on the side of his head, and it knocked him sideways into a fire escape. He reached up, felt his head, and noticed his hand was filled with blood.

What were they doing?

They were still behind him, shouting. Their voices sounded angry. Like Mother when he did something bad.

Still, he lumbered on, desperately looking for a way out of the alley. He dipped into a recess. Ahead was a tall wooden fence with a number of trashcans in front of it. He headed toward it.

Who are these men? Why are they after me? Where is Mother?

He jumped and crashed up onto the garbage cans. Several of them fell over and rolled away. He grabbed the top of the fence and pulled himself up.

Another bang, bang.

This time a knifelike shock pounded through his right leg. He felt his strength waning. Roku pulled himself up and over the fence and dropped to the ground on the opposite side. Pain caused his entire body to shudder.

Limping, he scampered into the dark recess of the alleyway and out of sight of the men pursuing him. He could no longer hear their shouting. They did not follow over the fence. He glanced at his leg and shoulder and saw a thick dark red fluid covering his thin fur. It was blood, he knew. Mother had taught him. Somehow, he and Mother both had the red stuff inside their bodies, and it was important. He knew that much.

He worked his way back to his tunnel, remaining in the dim recesses as he limped along. He ducked into the underbrush and felt safe. Scurrying through the dense vegetation, he finally made it back and collapsed into the tunnel’s small confines.

***

After much internal debate, Millie decided to meet Gerald. She decided to drive to Reno for the weekend, and he would drive over from the research facility. He had rented a room at the Sands Regency between Interstate 80 and the Truckee River. After crossing the bay using the San Francisco-Oakland Bay Bridge, Millie continued northeast toward Sacramento on Interstate 80 through Berkley and Fairfield. The sun was bright, and the clouds were few. The two-lane road wound through the rural countryside, where the houses were few and far between. Short grasses of varying shades of greens and browns covered the treeless landscape while the low lying hills gradually gave way to flat terrain the closer to Sacramento she got.

Early evening found her on the outskirts of Reno. She steered her car off the Interstate and found the Sands without much difficulty. After parking her car, she checked into the room Siscom had reserved for her which had a commanding view of the casino’s courtyard and pool area. She unpacked her bag and sat on the bed, hungry. As she was about to wander downstairs to the restaurant, there was a soft knock on her door.

It was Siscom.

She leaped into his arms with tears flowing down her cheeks and kissed him. Surprised at herself she pulled away, her face flushing.

“It’s good to see you, Millie,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

She took him by the hand and pulled him into the room, where they embraced again. Millie, embarrassed by her tears, slouched in a chair while Siscom did the same.

“Gerald,” she said, “I...I...I don’t know quite what to say. I’m sorry for any and all trouble I caused you because of my actions. It never was my intention to do that.”

“I know,” he said. “You did what you did. That’s all there is to it. We just need to try and repair the damage. Any idea where Roku is?”

“No. I believe he must still be around where we were living, but I have no idea.”

“Care to tell me where you are living now? You can trust me.”

Millie hesitated, her stomach suddenly churning. She dreaded this part of the reunion she knew would have to be faced. She thought she could trust Siscom, but, once she told him everything, there would no longer be safety in anonymity. Gerald had never been anything but her trusted friend, and they were close to being lovers, a possibility she never thought could happen. She glanced at him sitting across from her. He looked haggard, maybe from the long drive, she thought. But, otherwise, he reclined comfortably and smiled at her. She felt relaxed in his presence, sensed his willingness to protect her.

“Not yet, Gerald. Maybe later.”

He nodded as if he understood.

“I’ve got something to tell you,” he said. “And I hope you won’t feel poorly about me or become angry.”

“What? What?”

She could see Siscom fidget in his chair and clasp his hands together.

“Harry and Dixie are here. Down the hall in my room.”

“Oh, Gerald!” Millie cried. “How could you?” Her face went pale in the soft yellow light of the hotel room.

“Please, don’t say that. They just want to help.”

“No. I won’t see them.” She stood and grabbed her bag and opened a dresser drawer.

“Millie,” Siscom said, at her side and his arms around her shoulders. “They are your friends as well. And only want to help. Honest. At least see them. Talk to them. Together, we can work all this out. I’m sure we can. Just see them. Please.”

Mille shrugged his hands off her. Turning, she looked at him through narrowed eyes.

“And I trusted you, Gerald. I trusted you, and you do this to me. Without asking.”

“I can assure you my heart is in the right place. I don’t want to see you throw away a promising career. Ruin your life.”

“My career is finished, Gerald. I know that. Don’t play word games with me.”

“It may not be. All I ask is you talk with Harry and Dixie. If you don’t like what you hear, they’ll return home.”

“And not tell the cops? Ha!”

“You can trust them. But if your answer is no, I’ll go tell them.”

Siscom started for the door.

“Wait,” Millie said. “I guess there’s no harm in meeting with them and hearing them out. Okay, I’ll do it.” She surprised herself in relenting so easily.

Siscom smiled, nodded, and put an arm around her as they left her room. Walking down the carpeted hallway, her head began to pound, and her knees became weak.

Siscom opened his hotel room door, and she saw Dixie spring out of a chair and cross the room. Millie broke down and began sobbing and let her head fall into the woman’s shoulder.

Millie stood for a while in Dixie’s embrace as she wept. Dixie led her into the room and placed her on a small sofa then sat next to her, an arm still around Millie’s shoulder.

She heard Dixie’s soft voice soothing her. A hand smoothed her ruffled hair.

“There, there,” Dixie said. “It’s all right. You’re among friends here.”

Millie looked around and noticed Harry standing by a window. Siscom took a seat near the door. She dried her eyes and forced a laugh.

“I must look a sight,” she said.

“You look fine,” Dixie said. “Don’t you think, Harry?”

Harry crossed the room and stood next to her. She glanced up at him.

“Yes, she looks fine. Like our old Millie. We’ve missed you, young lady. Your parents have been concerned as well.”

“Gerald--I mean Dr. Siscom--”

Dixie laughed at her remark. “It’s okay, Millie. Gerald mentioned you two dated a few times.”

“Well, Gerald told me you wanted to help, but I don’t know how. I crossed the line, I realize that.”

Harry strolled back to the window then turned to face her.

“You did cross a line, Millie, but it is a nebulous one. A line that other scientists have crossed down through the centuries. So, I don’t think you have done irreparable harm to yourself. Especially if you can tell us where we can find Roku.”

“I can’t,” Millie said, gazing at the floor.

“Can’t or won’t?” Harry said.

“Roku attacked me and disappeared,” she said.

“Oh, Millie,” Dixie said, alarmed. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine. Just a few bumps and scrapes. But I don’t know where he is. And haven’t for the past two weeks.”

“Where is that?” Harry asked.

Millie ignored the question and looked at Harry with an anxious eye. “He is so intelligent. It’s hard to believe,” she said.

“It would be nice to measure it,” Dixie said.

“He’s beginning to become aware of himself, was asking questions.”

Sitcom cleared his throat and smiled.

“A definite sign of intelligence,” he said. “Interpreting other people’s actions and intentions involves a mutual ascription of contented mental states such that the understanding of the social world around us becomes coherent and intelligible. Our everyday understanding of others, our folk psychology, is our most fundamental resource for introducing meanings in a world of causes. Folk psychology, as a practice, has been a major topic of philosophical and psychological investigation along the overall history of thought. Recently, a new perspective on folk psychology has emerged in philosophy of mind and psychology. According to this perspective, our interpretive abilities should be viewed as a competence, a specific endowment of the human mind specialized to understand others and ourselves in terms of mental states. A new field of investigation, called Theory of Mind, is now emerging as a major issue in cognitive studies.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Harry said. “Explain, Gerald.”

“Theory of Mind is a specific cognitive ability to understand others as intentional agents, that is, to interpret their minds in terms of theoretical concepts of intentional states, such as beliefs and desires. It has been commonplace in philosophy to see this ability as intrinsically dependent upon our linguistic abilities. After all, language provides us a representational medium for meaning and intentionality. Thanks to language, we are able to describe other people’s, and our own, actions in an intentional way as in, ‘Ralph believes that Mary intends him to persuade George to do something.’ According to this view, the intentionality of natural language--that is, its suitability for expressing meanings and thoughts--is the key to understanding the intentionality of our theory of mind.

“A major challenge to this view came from studies on primate cognition and comparative psychology. In a famous paper, ‘Does the chimpanzee have a theory of mind?’ the authors argued that experimental evidence of chimpanzees’ understanding of human behavior could be interpreted as detection of intentions. Although other primatologists have challenged their experimental data, there is growing evidence showing that non-human primates have some intentional understanding of their social world. The presence of such a capacity in non -human and obviously non-linguistic species led to the conclusion that it was possible to investigate Theory of Mind as a biological endowment independently of language.”

“Interesting,” Harry said. “But, unfortunately, not relevant to the immediate problem.”

“You said the line was nebulous, Dr. Olson,” Millie said. “What did you mean?”

Harry sat in the remaining chair and sighed.

“We scientists have always been on the cutting edge of ethics, and our discoveries have sometimes caused public outcries. One of our tasks is to educate the public about what we do. Otherwise, what is ethical behavior to large groups of society becomes confused and ingrained in ideology.”

“I don’t understand,” Millie said.

“There is currently an epidemic in this country that seems harder to cure every day, and it becomes the overriding force of the American dialogue, consuming all sense of reason and rationality. The concept at the core of this epidemic is that ethics and science are in polar opposition, and, in order to be an ethical human being, you need to oppose science as an idea, in and of itself, lest you be labeled an enemy by a moral majority of your peers. For example, when the news media conducts an interview with a leading geologist, discussing the current state of plate tectonics and the current prediction models for earthquake activity in our Bay Area, they almost always feel compelled to also have a guest named Joe Blow from San Diego, who believes that the earthquakes are really caused by demons celebrating the rampant homosexuality in San Francisco, and the only way to save ourselves is to embrace God. This is the level of false balance we’ve fallen to when discussing science in America.

“As scientists, we have the responsibility to make sure that the decision makers who control our funding and our professional careers fully understand the science behind what we do every day. When they don’t understand, they make wrong decisions.”

“We believe that’s what happened in your case, Millie,” Dixie said. “And Harry’s case as well.”

“Dr. Olson’s case?” Millie said, surprised by the comment.

“Harry was fired from Cal Pacific, Millie,” Dixie said.

“Oh, no,” Millie exclaimed, putting a hand to her mouth.

“So you see,” Siscom interjected, “it’s important that we find Roku and get the university to reinstate you and the Olsons. And the sooner, the better.”

“I--I--don’t know,” Millie said. “What about the police? Will I be arrested?”

“I’d have a talk with Special Agent Jacoby,” Harry said. “He might have an answer.”