Wired - Douglas E. Richards [46]
“Okay,” began Smith, having finally plotted his interrogation. “You said she talked with you for an hour or so. What did she talk about?”
“She claimed she was innocent,” said Desh. “She wanted to convince me.”
“Did she say why this was important to her?”
“No,” said Desh. He considered telling the Black Ops officer that she had told him her goal was to recruit him to her side, but immediately decided against it.
“Did she explain away all the bizarre deaths and disappearances that occurred around her when she was growing up? Or the death of her boss? Or the murder of her brother?”
“She insisted she didn’t kill her parents. The other incidents didn’t come up at all. Neither did any mention of Ebola or bio-weapons. She mentioned terrorists only in the context of denying that she had any connection to them.”
“I see. Then on what grounds did she claim to be innocent if she made no effort to refute the airtight evidence against her?”
Desh shrugged. “I don’t know. Your men interrupted before she got that far.”
“Let me understand. She wanted to prove her innocence. Yet after an hour of discussion she had not addressed even a single thing she was accused of?”
“That’s right,” responded Desh.
Smith took both eyes off the ruler-straight road and studied Desh for several seconds. Finally, apparently unable to find any signs of deceit, he returned his attention to the road. “So what did she talk about in that time?”
Desh sighed. “About experiments she conducted to increase her own intelligence. The theory behind it, the results of the experiments; that sort of thing.”
Smith raised his eyebrows. “Did she say she was successful?”
Desh nodded. “She claims to be able to enhance her intelligence to immeasurable levels.”
“I see,” said Smith, noncommittally. “And did she tell you how she applied this newfound brilliance of hers?” he asked.
“Not a word,” said Desh.
“Did she offer you anything?” asked Smith.
“Like what? Money?”
Smith studied him carefully once again, as if this would enable him to precisely judge the sincerity of Desh’s response. “Like anything. Money. Power. Enhanced intelligence of your own.” He raised his eyebrows. “Other considerations that might be appealing.”
Desh furrowed his brow in confusion. “Other considerations? You can’t mean sex,” he said in disbelief.
Smith shook his head irritably. “Of course not,” he replied.
Desh shrugged. “Then I’m afraid you’ve lost me. But regardless of what you’re trying to hint at, she didn’t offer me a single thing. Period. Not a thin dime. Not that I could be bought in any case,” he added pointedly.
Smith paused for a long time in thought. “Did you believe her story?” he asked finally, taking a new tack.
“What, about her ability to elevate her IQ, or that she was innocent?”
“Both,” said Smith.
“With respect to enhanced intellect—I don’t know,” said Desh, shrugging. His eyes narrowed in thought. “She’s an extraordinary scientist, that’s beyond dispute. And she weaved a very convincing scientific rationale around the concept. Autistic savants do exist and do demonstrate what one hundred billion neurons can do when wired slightly differently than normal. As farfetched as it is, she made optimizing her own brain seem possible, even reasonable, for someone with her talents.” He paused. “Is she innocent? That one is easier. Of course not. Other than claiming she was innocent, she didn’t provide a shred of evidence, as we’ve discussed.”
The corners of Smith’s mouth turned up in a knowing smile. “But she still got to you a little, didn’t she? Even without providing any evidence, you half wanted to believe her, didn’t you?