The Chameleon had the best technology the Users could provide. Within minutes of searching the prey's purse, the Chameleon had copies of all the documents the prey had. Back at the base, the Chameleon, now a she, made perfect forgeries of the prey's driver license and other papers and photos. She changed everything to reflect her current facade. The forgeries added two inches to her height and subtracted fifteen pounds from her weight. The picture on the driver's license now was hers. With valid identity numbers and proofs, she was ready to infiltrate.
Later that week, she used the prey's credit to purchase a car. On the last day of the week, she entered Chicago from the south. Her first objective would be to find a job.
Chapter 4
Learning
The day was ruined. The arraignment for the two punks took until 5:00. The prosecutor seemed to be just going through the motions. The lawyer for Jordan Blythe and his friend John Jorgenson grilled me for hours trying to get me to make mistakes and correct myself. I finally got fed up with the harassment and called him an idiot, a pea brain. I asked him if the reason he couldn't remember what I said about who had the knife to Tabitha's back was because his elevator didn't go all the way up. That finally got a response from the prosecutor and the judge. I was threatened with contempt. The prosecutor even wanted my comments stricken from the record. I then lectured the lawyer about how he could remember by making a mnemonic out of the letters. The judge in exasperation finally told me I could go. As I left the courtroom, the spectators started to clap. The judge was throwing another hissy fit as I left the room.
The drive home was even worse than the testifying. My brain and body were tired. I swerved onto the shoulder of the road when a large dark shape flashed in front of the windshield. Gulping for air, I looked in the rear view mirror and saw three crows picking at the carcass of some dead animal. I felt picked-over like that animal. I then noticed a bird circling above the road about a hundred yards ahead of the pickup. The hawk stayed circling until I got home and entered the house. There Move-over took over the watching.
“Mr. Blythe?"
“Yes John."
“Both the Czeminski girl and Karpinen testified against your son. I did get both the prosecutor and the judge to agree to a plea bargain. Since both your son and his friend are seventeen, they will have clean records next year. Jorgensen will get sixty days in county jail with probation until he is eighteen and your son will have probation until his eighteenth birthday."
“I thought you said you could make it all go away?" “I could have if Karpinen and Czeminski hadn't testified."
“No one messes with my family and gets away with it. Hurt them. Hurt them bad. Start with the banks."
“I think the girl has a college loan out. I'll start by having the loan called in. I think it is a federal loan so we will have to have it first transferred to another bank."
“Stop bothering me with the details. You know your job Mister Jones. Just tell me when they are hurting."
* * * *
This was a bad day for the Chameleon. A supervisor just returned from vacation. He was deaf. The Chameleon's disguise worked because she overpowered all the senses. She was an average female secretary. Your nose said she smelled like a woman. Your eyes would say the same. She looked, tasted, walked, talked, and sounded like all the other women in the office. But being an imposter she wasn't quite perfect. The slightly different scent she gave off was offset by her voice. The throaty whisper in her voice could be ignored when contrasted with the popular make-up on her face.
In other words, the supervisor without his sense of hearing to interfere had started watching her with a quizzical look to his face. She knew she had to disappear from this identity and start a new one. She liked the access she had gained by being female. She also noticed that the so-called security that was in place was more interested in her femaleness than in what she did. The Chameleon had heard talk about a lesbian bar downtown. She would go there. It should be easy to attract a new prey to exchange identities with. A new prey to destroy and place her current identification with. A new prey to be used to camouflage her infiltration.
Her change of identity was easier than she imagined. She had dressed the prey with her clothing and purse, destroyed her face and hands by leaving her body on the train tracks. The changes the Chameleon had to make to fit the new prey's identity were minor, slightly different shade of skin tone and hair color. This prey had a better education than the last. The Chameleon could infiltrate the community at a higher level.
* * * *
Air on a G-String by Bach was playing in the background and I was looking again at the Grand Unification equations. I had proofed the article and sent it back to the office the day before but I couldn't stop thinking about the electromagnetic equations.
I had decided to put the equations away but something made me look at them again using fuzzy logic. Fuzzy logic assumes that you don't have accurate information. A strange thing happens when you assume inaccuracy. You can process more information with more accuracy than with common math, but it only works better on real life problems. I could still remember the first fuzzy math problem I proofed.
A college math professor had his class write out the problem of when he would get to his office if he left home at 7:10 in the morning. The class spent 3 weeks timing the traffic lights and examining his morning route. They then wrote out the problem using standard mathematical methods and fuzzy logic. Using standard math, he would arrive at his office at 7:44 plus or minus 8.5 minutes. Using fuzzy logic, he would arrive at his office at approximately 7:48. The rest of the semester the class recorded the arrival time of the professor. Except for 3 arrivals, the professor walked into his office within the 8.5 minutes of 7:44 but for 3/4ths of the arrival times he arrived within 2 minutes of 7:48.
Fuzzy logic had the more accurate answer because it accepts the fact that the things are never exact. The professor might leave home at 7:11 one day but the traffic lights will average the later time of that one-day so he still arrives at 7:44. Fuzzy logic balances the inaccuracies by acknowledging that they are
there. The more variations in a problem the greater the accuracy using fuzzy logic.
A Japanese mathematician had taken a set of algorithms designed by a logician by the name of Kosko and applied them to radio transmissions. I had run across his article in Scientific American while proofing a story from IBM Labs on a new system of transmitting information between computers without using cables. Since radio waves are electromagnetic, I used the mathematician's algorithms on the Unification equations. And then it happened! Right there on the computer screen! The equations showed that just like the neutrinos electromagnetic radiation could convert to mass with gravity. You could use radio waves to make gravity!
The conversion to gravity was so small that it was unnoticeable, but it was there in the equations. I started playing with the numbers on the screen. The equations stayed the same. I tried different combinations.
Still the conversion to gravity was so small you couldn't even find it let alone use it. Suddenly a spike appeared in the numbers. Harmonics of different frequencies could add up to make noticeable gravity.
I stared at the computer screen. Silence. I don't know how long I watched the same string of numbers. But Move-over stretched up my leg, inserted his claws through the fabric of my pants, and yowled. It was morning. He wanted food. I had worked through the night.
I suddenly had to empty my bladder. The twelve hours sitting in front of a computer screen had made inroads in the balance between my kidney output and my bladder capacity. I ran to the bathroom to the accompaniment of my growling stomach and Move-over's hungry cries. During the long minutes standing in front of the toilet, I wondered if I actually found a way of making artificial gravity. Then I started to laugh. I laughed so hard I missed the stool. Wiping up the small puddle next to the toilet, I kept hearing the comment from an imaginary reporter that started my laughter. “Sir, what was the first thing you did after you realized you discovered artificial gravity?"