“It’s routine. Do you want to see Dr. Washington, or not?”
Clark signed. It was all so peculiar, he did not want to argue.
“Thank you,” the woman said, and looked down at her desk.
Clark went on, following the guard, to an elevator. As they walked down the corridor, Clark glanced at the doors, with their neatly stenciled markings:
ALPHA WAVE SYNCH LAB
MASSACT RES UNIT
K PUPPIES
HYPNOESIS 17
WHITE ENVIRON
Clark said, “What kind of work is done here?”
“All kinds,” the guard said.
They got into the elevator and went to the second floor. The guard led him down another corridor to a door marked ENERGICS SUBGROUP. He opened it, and waved Clark inside.
A secretary sat typing a letter, wearing earphones attached to a dictaphone machine. She turned off the machine and removed the earphones. “Dr. Clark? Dr. Washington is expecting you.” She pressed the intercom. “You may go right in.”
Clark passed through a second door, into the sloppiest office he had ever seen. The walls were lined with shelves, which contained pamphlets, notebooks, and stacks of loose paper; books and journals sat in unruly heaps on the floor and on the desk. From behind the debris on the desk, a thin, pale figure rose.
“I am George Kelvin Washington. Do sit down.”
Clark looked for a place to sit. There was a chair, but it was heaped high with manuscripts and journals.
“Just push that junk off,” Dr. Washington said. “It’s not important anyway. Make yourself comfortable.”
Dr. Washington sank back down behind the stacks on the desk. A moment later, he cleared a little tunnel, which allowed him to see Clark, sitting in the chair.
“You’ve come about the job,” Washington said.
“Yes, I—”
“Good, good. You seem a bright young man. I’m not surprised that your interest in Advance, Inc. has been aroused.”
“Yes, it—”
“There is no question that you would find our work challenging. We operate at the very forefront of several areas of investigation. The very forefront.”
“I see,” Clark said, not seeing.
“If I understand correctly,” Washington said, staring down at his desk, “you are a, ah, where is it, oh yes—you are a pharmacologist.”
“That’s correct,” Clark said. He wondered how Washington knew. He wondered what Washington was looking at, on the desk.
“Your job application,” Washington said, “is all in order. Quite complete. I needn’t tell you that we are most interested in your experience in clinical drug testing at the National Institutes. You did that instead of military service?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Excellent. And you’ve had some experience with human drug testing?”
“Limited.”
“Ummm. How limited?”
“Well, we did several tests on experimental drugs for cancer—”
“Yes, yes, all that’s down here,” Washington said, tapping the sheet. “Cancer drugs numbered JJ-4225, and AL-19. Controlled double blind clinical trials involving forty and sixty-nine subjects, respectively. Is that it?”
“Yes,” Clark said, frowning. He had filled out no application. He had certainly never written down—
“Well, that’s fine,” Washington said. “Just fine. Undoubtedly you’re curious about the work you will be doing, if you choose to join the team here.”
“As a matter of fact, I am.”
“You’ll understand if I can’t be too specific,” Dr. Washington said, scratching the tip of his nose. “We are not a secret organization, but we do need to be careful.”
“You do a lot of government work?”
“Heavens, no! We don’t do any at all. We used to do government work, but that stage is past. Entirely past.” Dr. Washington sighed. “Your work will concern the interaction of organ systems with chemical compounds which affect multiple bodily systems. In most cases, one of the systems will be nervous, but this will not be invariably so.”
“This work is drug-testing, then?”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
“Well,” Washington said, “take my own work. I’m a bio-physicist, myself. I’ve been working on stereochemical interactions of allosteric enzymes. Very challenging.”
“I’m sure. What sort of—”
“Enzymes? Those affecting tryptophan metabolism. Effects upon thyroid, brain, and kidney…precisely the kind of multiple system situation I was describing.”
Clark said, “Can you tell me a little more about the company itself?”
“Yes. We’re a new company, just started two years ago. As you can see, we’ve grown enormously in that period. Advance has a total staff of 207, including fifty secretaries. We have nine divisions, each involved in some broad question of the application of science to man. We are working in electromagnetics, enzymes, ultrasound, peripheral perception. A wide variety of fields.”
“Where do most of your contracts come from?”
“We are a private research and development firm. We make our services available to private industry. But mostly, we work for ourselves.”
“For yourselves?”
“Yes. That is to say, we exploit our own developments. To that extent, we are unique among firms of this type. But I believe that we represent the way of the future—we are the R and D team of the future. Right here, right now. We do everything: we develop, we apply, and we exploit. Do you follow me?”
“I follow you,” Clark said. In fact, he did not understand it at all.
“I’d like,” said Washington, “for you to meet with our president, if you have the time. Better than anyone else, he can tell you about Advance, and what it stands for.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Good. I’ll try to arrange it.”
He got up from behind his desk and went to the door. “I won’t be a minute,” he said and left, shutting the door behind him.
Clark was alone.
Immediately, he got up and went around behind the desk. He was looking for the paper that Washington had been reading from; Clark’s application. But he did not find it. Indeed, behind the stack of books and pamphlets, the desk was bare.
He opened the drawer to the desk and looked inside. The first thing that he found was a small tuning fork, like the one in Sharon Wilder’s purse.
The second thing was an odd sheet of paper:
WILDER, SHARON (ALICE BLANKFURT)
INDICES:
SYLONO .443
Psycho-sexual .887
LIENO .003
Dermo-phonic .904
CRYO .342
Hyper-sthenic .887
SUMMARY: Initial work with this model reveals satisfactory assimilation of basic parameters with excellent prognosis for future interaction in K-K. There can be no doubt that—
He heard a noise outside, closed the drawer, and resumed his seat.
Dr. Washington returned. “Sorry about the delay,” he said. “Dr. Blood will see you immediately, if that is convenient.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He nodded to the door. “The guard will take you there.” Washington extended his hand. “Good luck, Dr. Clark. I hope you’ll be joining us.”
“Thank you,” Clark said.
Dr. Harvey Blood, president of Advance, Inc., had the largest desk Clark had ever seen. It was curved, bean-shaped, and nine feet long. The surface was brightly polished mahogany. Dr. Blood sat behind his desk, and his face was mirrored in the polish. Clark noticed that the surface was unmarred by pen, paper, or intercom.
“Well, well, well!” Dr. Blood stood, a stocky, red-faced cherub with black unruly hair. “So you’re Dr. Clark.”
“Yes, sir.”