Stalking The Phoenix Part 10

"Actually, Brother, I fear that I'll bore the rest of these good people. It's pretty technical stuff, for the most part," Alicia said smilingly.

Geoff laughed. "You'll probably recognize the name of her company, Jencomp."

Brother Louis smiled broadly. "You're brilliant, Doctor Jenkins. I've played with the Jencomp graphics interface. It's exceptional."

"Thank you. It's been a good seller."

"What are you working on, now?" the brother asked.

Geoff looked over at Alicia. "You know, she hasn't even explained her latest tinkertoy project to me. She's really tightlipped about it."

Sister Bonaventure prodded, "I would like to hear something about it. You can always tell so much about a person by how they talk about their job."

Father Cecil countered defensively, "I'm not sure that's true. What a person does for a living generally doesn't affect the kind of person that he/she is. For example, I worked on a construction crew to earn my way through college. Am I what you would character type as a construction worker?"

Sister Bonaventure turned red. I wasn't sure if the reason was that Sister was angry or embarra.s.sed. However, I really didn't want to find out.

Clearly figuring that she'd diffuse the conversation, Alicia said, "I think what Sister meant is that when someone loves her job, you can hear it in her voice. And when someone doesn't like the job, you can tell much about that person's character by finding out why he doesn't like the job. I really don't think that Sister was type-casting anyone by career, or lack thereof." Then smiling, she added, "Besides, Father, I don't see that there is anything wrong with having been a construction worker. In fact, I'd be very proud of it if I were you. After all, that was St. Joseph's and Our Lord's profession."

Father Cecil laughed. "'Mea maxima culpa'," he uttered.

I looked at Father Cecil, trying to think of some way to change the subject.

Alicia, obviously feeling on the spot, sighed deeply. "If it will make you feel any better, I'll tell you about my current project."

As I watched Alicia's face become animated, I thought that she was one of the most beautiful women whom I had ever seen. My brother was one truly blessed man.

"What it is that I am working on is a way of linking robotics, artificial intelligence, a graphics interface, and a few other components to create fine art, specifically paintings. I've just about got all the bugs worked out of an expert system that ties a unique electronic eye and a very special robotic hand together. The resulting system can scan any existing work of art and duplicate it down to the finest detail in oil on a canva.s.s. Potentially, the machine could paint in the style of any of the great masters. Imagine that you could set any given subject in front of the machine, and you'd get a portrait of that person done in the style of, say, Cezanne, Renoir, DaVinci, you name it. My database is almost complete on the techniques of the Masters. The only one that I haven't quite got down is Van Gogh. I never have been able to codify his brushwork. But, I'm working on it."

Geoff smiled.

Brother Louis' jaw had dropped open about half way through Alicia's explanation. "Just how much of a system do you need to control all that?"

"Right now, I'm running it off of a machine of my own design. I've tied together neural nets with more standard technology. It's been an ambitious project."

"Whew! How do you interface between those diametrically different technologies? That had to be interesting," Brother Louis asked.

"Yeah. None of this was easy. There were really a few difficult parts to the development. The first was in refining an electronic eye so that it could distinguish enough shades and intensities of color, as well as being able to quantify the texture. The second was in working out a robotic hand that would be flexible and sensitive enough to perform the functions required. The only other difficult part, really, was breaking down the thought processes of the Masters and codifying it into the database. I had to do a lot of painting, observing certified copyists, and thinking to accomplish that. Once that was done, most of the other pieces fell into place. I'm still having some problems with the robotic hand."

"Like what?" Brother Louis inquired with more than polite interest.

"Occasionally, when it is trying duplicate a particularly emotional piece, its grip will become so tight that it either breaks the brush or rams it right through the canva.s.s."

I laughed. The rest of the people at the table, joined in the laughter. "Are you putting us on?"

Alicia smiled. "I wish I were, Will. I suppose that it does sound funny." Becoming more serious, she added, "But please, I've been keeping my work very quiet, for obvious reasons. I've put too much effort into this to see it be duplicated somewhere else. I've spent a lot of my money on this research. The patents for the subsystems have already come down. The graphics interface which Brother Louis spoke of earlier was one of those subsystems, or at least, the commercial program was a part of one of those subsystems which I modified for commercial usage. The patent on the overall machine has been approved only a few days ago. I'm working on the paper to announce the development at a conference scheduled for this fall. So, please, I'm swearing you all to secrecy on this."

All heads at the table nodded in agreement.

Sister Bonaventure remarked thoughtfully, "Sounds like an interesting machine. I'm a little worried that with machines like that and like music synthesizers that people will eventually forget how to paint and play music. I mean, why should we go through the hard part of learning to play or paint if a machine can do it for us?"

Alicia smiled. "I understand and share your concern. Machines are only good for what we choose to use them. Only our use of them can impart a moral nature to them. I envision a machine like mine used in teaching people how to paint. So many times in art cla.s.ses, we look at fine works by the Masters and we wonder how they accomplished that one effect. I see this machine as a way of helping to create finer painters by showing them how the old Masters did the things that they did. In fact, I hope to have my machine declared to be a certified copyist by the Louvre. It is certainly more accurate than many copyists that I've seen."

"If the machine is that good, won't people be tempted to use it to make forgeries of paintings?" Sister Dorothea asked.

Alicia smiled. She had obviously been waiting for that question. "That's a very good question. It deserves a good answer. There are many elements to a painting. First, there is the matter of a canva.s.s. If the painting to be duplicated is very old, for a forger to do an acceptable job, he or she would have to have a canva.s.s of approximately that age. He or she would also have to stretch the canva.s.s using the techniques and materials of that time. Each master used slightly different techniques, for example DaVinci often painted on wood, instead of canva.s.s. Finding wood of the appropriate era that hadn't been already painted on is difficult. But, that's another problem entirely."

Alicia paused momentarily, before continuing, "The second important element as I see it is the paint. Until relatively recently, each artist mixed his own paints, often mining the pigments himself, from what was locally available. Put that together with a wide variety of binders used in mixing the paints, and you come up with something which is extremely difficult to duplicate exactly."

Father Cecil smiled. "It sounds like you've thought of every way possible to forge a painting."

Alicia smiled and laughed quietly. "Let's just say that I try to stay one step ahead of the compet.i.tion."

"Suppose," Geoff asked, "just suppose that someone went to the effort of getting a piece of canva.s.s of the right age and stretched it properly and got the right pigments and mixed them the right way. Given those conditions, would your machine make a perfect forgery?"

"I've allowed for that contingency. Each painting begins with a routine to rule out any possible undetected forgery. The first step is to paint, or size, the canva.s.s with gesso. That is pretty well standard modern procedure. What isn't standard is that there is a microscopic amount of powdered white lead sprayed onto the gesso forming the letters C O P Y along the diagonal of the canva.s.s. It's microscopic, i.e. invisible to the eye, but believe me, any x-ray equipment will certainly pick it out."

Geoff nodded his head. He seemed amused at the detail of this project of hers. I wondered if this was the first that he had heard of it. "Woman. That is some plan. What's to stop a sharpy like, say Sister Bonaventure here, from removing the canva.s.s after that part of the painting is complete and replacing it with another?" he asked with clear humor in his voice.

Alicia smiled and winked at him. "That's easy. After the painting has begun, if the canva.s.s is removed from the easel, the entire process recycles. Starting with, guess what, the gesso and the white lead. And to answer the next logical question, there is no way around it. The machine will sit motionless if there is any lack of either the gesso or the lead. The machine tests the quality of both the gesso and the lead. If either fails to meet preset minimum criteria, the machine will not continue. The control for that portion of the process is in hardware. Any modification of the machine out of preset criteria will cause it to malfunction."

"What do you mean malfunction?" Sister Dorothea asked. "It will paint, but..." Alicia laughed boldly. "the only thing that the machine will produce is a facsmile of one of the suggested early American flags. You know, the one with the snake and the message 'Don't tread on me'?" Everyone at the table broke up laughing. Geoff looked over at Alicia. "That's real cute 'Licia." "Yeah, I thought it was poetic justice." "What is the possibility of lead poisoning from your process?" Brother Louis asked when he stopped laughing. Alicia laughed. "The amount of lead in the machine is insignificant. The amount on each painting is hardly worth talking about. It's well below the EPA standards." Brother Louis smiled. "So, do you see other applications for the sub-a.s.semblies?" "Yes. There are lots of manufacturing applications," Alicia replied. "You've worked out the visual recognition problems?" Brother Louis asked. "For the most part." "Wow!" Brother Louis remarked in awe. "The applications are mind boggling." "I've already licensed some of the technology to Davis Engineering," Alicia said. "That's Rose Davis' outfit?" Father Cecil asked in surprise. "Rusty's a friend," Alicia replied quietly. "You've got some ... real ... interesting friends," Father Cecil remarked with distaste in his voice. Alicia looked at him with narrowed eyes. "My friends are interesting people."

"So what is Davis going to be doing with your innovations?" Father Cecil asked in a cautious tone still heavily laced with distaste.

"Why are you so concerned?" Alicia asked.

"That woman has her paws into many areas," Father Cecil said in disgust. "She is little more than a p.a.w.n in the hands of the military industrial complex."

Alicia bristled. "Rusty is my friend. No one who knows her would call her a p.a.w.n in anyone's game. She plays by her own rules. Period."

Father Cecil, seeing the fire in her eyes, backed down. "I meant no disrespect. The pair of you seems diametrically opposed to one another. She's such a-a flamboyant person."

"Only Rusty's work is flamboyant. She is actually quite a private person."

"She's a merchant of death!" Father Cecil said.

"Rather, her inventions try to maintain life for people in otherwise untenable situations," Alicia countered, no small measure of heat in her voice.

"Right." A person would have had to be deaf to have missed the sarcasm in Father Cecil's voice.

"How did you meet Davis?" I asked quietly, trying to get a handle on my future sister-in-law.

"I was a doctoral candidate when she was an undergraduate challenging the Inst.i.tute for her Bachelor's and Master's course work. There weren't a lot of women in the E.E. and M.E. programs. The few of us that there were tended to form friendships as self-defense against the good-old-boy mentality of the department." "So, Geoff," Sister Dorothea said changing the subject, "'Monsignor' has told us all about your upcoming marriage. The date is for three weeks from tomorrow?" "Yes," Geoff answered with a smile. I cleared my throat. "Well, Sister Bonaventure, you've outdone yourself with this cheese and vegetable chowder. It is wonderful." "Thank you, 'Monsignor'. I remembered how much you all liked it the last time I made it," Sister replied, her face beaming with quiet pride. Small talk ended the meal. After dinner, we all went to the living room.

Sister Dorothea stepped over to the piano and sat down. "Now for some real music," she announced. She began to play some Irish folk songs. Father Cecil and Brother Louis sang along.

The hall clock struck ten. Sister Dorothea stopped playing and excused herself saying that it was getting late. Sister Bonaventure also made her excuses as did Father Cecil and Brother Louis. Within three minutes, only Alicia, Geoff and I remained in the living room.

"Hummph," Geoff declared, "you certainly have them well trained."

I looked at Geoff, shaking my head. "They all are adults living under rule. They are expected to keep the hours for retiring of their respective communities. For most of them that is ten or thereabouts," I replied matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. I remember," Alicia said, mostly to herself.

"Father Cecil is going to say early Ma.s.s in the morning. I don't have to be at the Church until ten tomorrow. So, we can stay up and chat for awhile, if you like," I offered.

"Yeah", said Alicia, "I'd like that. It's not often that one meets her soon-to-be brother-in-law. But, if we are going to stay up and chat, I could use a warm drink."

I nodded. "I could use a cup of coffee myself," I said as I rose to go make the coffee.

They were embracing when I returned to the living room carrying thermal carafe of coffee and three mugs. There was something very tender in the caress that my baby brother was bestowing on his fiancee. I was glad to see that. Geoffrey has always been a womanizer. I was glad that he had found a woman for whom he could feel tenderness. Couples embracing don't bother me. But I thought that Alicia might be embarra.s.sed. I backed out of the room and waited.

A few minutes later, I handed her a cup of coffee. "I received your letter the other day," I remarked to Alicia. "It was a fine idea. Thank you for the thought."

"You're most welcome," Alicia hedged, as her face went totally ashen.

That was when I realized that I was talking out of school. Geoff didn't know about the birthday surprise that she was planning for him.

Geoff looked at Alicia then at me. "Okay, why has this suddenly become 'Treat Geoff like a mushroom' day?" he demanded.

Alicia smiled. "Never mind. Trust me. I've got a birthday surprise for you. I just wanted to run it by your brother to get his opinion. You'll see about it soon enough. That's all I'm telling you."

"Okay. But the suspense is killing me," Geoff said.

"You're a big boy, you'll survive," I told him with humor.

The conversation went on for hours as Alicia, Geoff and I spoke of many subjects.

As the hall clock struck one, I announced that it was way past my bedtime. "Come on, we'll have lots of time later today to talk. It's time that we all got some sleep. Come on, now. Up to bed with all of us."

*Chapter 17*

'Alicia'

I hadn't been asleep long when I was awakened by the sound of the door opening. I

opened an eye to see Geoff standing at the door. I sat up in bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. "What?" He walked in and closed the door behind him. "Geoff, go to bed. It is very late. I'm tired."

By the light streaming in the window, I watched as he walked over to me. He sat on her bed facing me. His arms surrounded me, crushingly. He kissed me, angrily. His face felt very cold, almost plastic. I pushed him away. While pushing him, I tore some latex loose from his face. He tore the rest of it off. It was Raoul Hernandez. His hands went around my throat.

"Now you die, Seester." The next thing that I knew, I was sitting upright in bed, screaming. Suddenly, the light switched on. Geoff and Father Will were standing there. Sisters Dorothea and Bonaventure, along with Father Cecil and Brother Louis, followed quickly. "What's wrong?" Sister Bonaventure asked. "'Licia's had a nightmare," Geoff explained. "Go back to bed, please. We're sorry to disturb your sleep." Sister Bonaventure nodded. "I'll brew her up some chamomile and red clover tea.

That will put her back to sleep."

Father Will smiled at Sister.

"Please go back to bed. There is no need for you all to stay here. The situation is under control," Will told them.

I was breathing very hard, as I tried to regain my composure. Tears streamed down my face. It was only a dream, I kept telling myself.

Geoff walked around the bed and sat down. He held me and let me cry. "Oh, Geoff. Such a nightmare. Hernandez found me. He disguised himself as you and got close enough to hold and kiss me. Then he tried to kill me."

"It was just a dream. No one is going to hurt you while I'm here," Geoff rea.s.sured me as he stroked my hair.

Father Will came over. Kneeling by the bed, he took my hand. "Alicia. Listen to me. You've got to pull yourself together. It was only a nightmare." He got up from his knees and sat on the bed. I looked at him, seeing only compa.s.sion in his eyes.

I laughed, nervously, becoming embarra.s.sed. "I'm so sorry to wake everyone up."

"Don't worry about it," Will said.

I realized that Geoff wasn't wearing a shirt. I looked down to discover to my relief, that he had, at least, pulled on his pants before answering my screams. I pulled away from Geoff.

Will looked over at Geoff. "I want to talk to Alicia about this. Why don't you go help Sister."

Geoff and his brother exchanged looks I couldn't decipher before Geoff left the room.

"Alicia," Will began, "I know all about Los Angeles. I know about this Hernandez fellow. I can understand why you'd feel fear of him. I would be in fear of him, if I were you."

I laid my head on Will's shoulder, and hugged him.

Will held me tightly. A long moment pa.s.sed. "Feeling better?"

I moved out of his arms.

"Yes. Thank you." I paused briefly. "Will?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you. You are going to be a fine brother in law," I said warmly as I touched his shoulder. "I'm a lucky woman to be marrying into this family."

Will patted my hand. "Anytime that you want someone to talk to, call me. I'll always be here for you."

I looked at him. "Thank you, Will. You're a fine man." I heard Geoff coming up the stairs. "That brother of yours is coming. Have you noticed that he has a great sense of timing?"