Sleeper's Run

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

"Bernard Darley," that's the name on my fake passport. It was given to me in the back of the Red Square club by one of Ilich's men, while they were receiving their daily alcohol delivery. The price was steep, but the forgery was first class; they used a stolen blank Belgian passport and even included a fake I-94 arrival/departure stub, as if I had entered the US recently. You get what you pay for.

Providence, Rhode Island is a long haul for me to make it on my own by car in less than a day, and without breaking the speed limit. Too many things can go wrong and I already wasted too much time waiting for the passport; more than I can afford. The international airport and train station could be under surveillance, so I take a gamble and scout North Perry Airport for my departure ticket.

The general aviation airport is small and busy. I walk around checking tied-down planes, until I see one that looks promising. There's no one around. The thin layer of dust that has accumulated on the Cessna Corvalis TT's door handle reveals that the owner has more money than time to enjoy the aircraft. The range, speed and glass cockpit are perfect for the trip; I can even see two headsets inside. It must be new, I think after finishing the pre-flight check. It should have no major squawks, or so I hope.

I pick the aircraft's lock, confirm that the fuel is free of water and debris by using a tester I find inside, and I hotwire the plane. Who says college doesn't prepare you for the real world? I think as I taxi to the runway.

I make the trip to Rhode Island in over five hours. The aircraft handles like a dream and flight conditions are fairly good all the way over. Visibility is poor due to rain in the north, but by the time I land at Quonset State Airport, it has stopped.

Rhode Island's crisp, chilly autumn air and the pleasant colors of the trees' foliage is a far cry from Florida's beach weather, but I come prepared. I don a beanie and a turtleneck sweater under a long coat and a scarf, the latter being useful for concealing my face. Cold weather has never agreed with my Hispanic side. I pay the airport's landing fee, lie about not staying overnight to avoid all the paperwork and take a cab to Brown University.

Just after my hypnotherapy session, I Googled Doctor Libschitz. I didn't know how to spell the name; all I knew was that the doctor was a foreigner with a Ph.D. in something that had to be related to neural science. But more importantly, I knew what he looked like. After several tries, I found an article with a picture of an unassuming man with receding gray hair, glasses, and the features of a proper scholar. Not precisely the mad scientist I was expecting, but real monsters rarely look the part.

Doctor Hershel Jerald Libschitz is a world-renowned neurologist born in Haifa, Israel to Austrian parents. He is the head of Cyberkinetics and Neurotechnology research at Brown University, where he works at the cutting edge of technologies involving mind-controlled computer interfaces. Doctor Libschitz is also a close collaborator at the Edmond and Lily Safra Center for Brain Sciences at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem in Israel, where he's heavily involved in a study to cure Alzheimer's disease. If someone can manipulate the brain, he's definitely the man to do it.

I have to move fast. No time to gather lengthy intelligence or fancy hacking tricks. This is strictly flying by the seat of my pants. Libschitz's building at Brown houses sensitive research. Security has to be tight. A walk through the parking lot reveals that Libschitz's car is still in his reserved spot. Sitting on a bench, I watch the entrance of the building, sip my coffee and work on my laptop just like any other college student. I observe the building's traffic for an hour. Soon it grows dark, and the vibrant reds, oranges and yellows of the trees around me turn evening blue.

I notice people using magnetic ID cards to gain access to the building. Most of them have them hanging from their necks or belts. I use binoculars to discreetly check out the type of security they have at the front desk. The building has only one main entrance and two emergency exits to the back and the side. The parking lot is private and most of it is reserved.