Chapter 5: Doctor Victor von Franklin Stine Or the Baron

Next stop, another medical group working on Mental health. Specifically, Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases. A worthy enough cause in itself. This was a leap for me. There was no known cure for either. Had there been, you couldn’t have kept it secret.

Attempts to keep such things had ended with the Coronavirus COVID-19 and searched for a vaccine. The number of arrests of CEOs of the Drug conglomerates was staggering. Those that tried to escape found they had nowhere to run. No country was willing to harbor them.

How many people had died waiting for a cure that had already been discovered?

It had forced the liquidation of more than one international pharmaceutical. These companies were not allowed to go into bankruptcy and thus escape liability. It wasn’t just the companies but the people that ran them.

It had one other benefit. The discovery of many other low-cost treatments and outright cures. Cures that they had buried so they could keep selling their overpriced drugs. They treated symptoms but offered no cures.

They had conspired to fix prices and delay manufacture. It would have been worth trillions had they gotten away with it. As it was, those people would never see the light of day again. Unfortunately, this included members of my ‘Family.’ Those of us that were not in on it took care to distance ourselves from them lest their crimes spilled over to the rest of the ‘Family.’

It was never actually proven that the POTUS had any involvement. But then, he had nearly a lifetime of experience covering up for himself and his organization. He didn’t get off scout free, though. The name he had for so long promoted was mud. People wouldn’t touch it. His fortunes diminished, although his net worth was never fully disclosed. The man only remains as a footnote of who not to vote for or put your faith in. Yet, surprisingly to this very day, he is honored and believed in.

Some had argued for the death penalty. After all, they were the real drug lords. Other more clear-sighted or perhaps much meaner. They said, NO! Do you want to punish these people? Then take what they cherished most. Their possession and wealth, and freedom. There would be no parole for them. The most proficient accountants in the world would make sure every penny was taken away from them. No club med prison for them. They would be doing hard time in maximin security prisons.

Some thought they got off lucky, but reports leaked out of prisons indicated more than one had tried Suicide. Only the intervention of the other inmates had prevented that. It seems the other inmates enjoyed tormenting them too much to let them die. The privileged learn the hard way what it means to be the unprivileged, deprived, and powerless.

Any attorney foolish enough to take on their case because it was rumored they still had incredible wealth that hadn’t been recovered. Those found themselves working for the most unethical of firms. People shunned them. Their careers finished. They could still practice law, but who would retain them as attorneys? So, I went into this one hesitantly. Yes, it was on the list. Whatever it was that grandfather had seen here couldn’t have anything to do with those two diseases.

My misapprehension changed as I entered the facility grounds. This was a full-fledged research hospital. Any lingering doubts I may have had disappeared as I entered the lobby and saw my grandfathers’ portrait on the wall along with other high-profile donors.

Okay, this was different. The other places on the list had been low-keyed. A connection here between my grandfather and myself couldn’t be mistaken. But then, what was apparent was not what my grandfather wanted me or anyone else to see.

I was offered a tour. For my grandfather’s sake, I felt obligated to take it. I tried to keep an open mind, but this was so far out of my field. I had no idea what they were talking about most of the time. The tour ended at last. I may not have been any wiser than I had been from the start. But I was impressed. I would look into how much my grandfather had donated and match it with an additional ten percent. Not that I thought my grandfather had been stingy. But to honor him.

Knowing I was Mr. Wolfenstein’s grandson, I was finally led to his office. Yes, of course, he had kept one here as well. My grandfather was no doctor, so why had he needed an office here? No one questioned me about that.

The girls had accompanied me, as it now seemed that it was a part of their duties. I didn’t mind. They certainly looked better than having Nick and a handful of his people escorting me. They were my personal assistants. Never mind that no one ever saw them taking notes or running errands of a sort a typical assistant would do.

Again, they stood flanking the door. This time silently.

‘Okay, grandfather, I’m here. What am I looking for?’ I may have voiced that out loud, but the room still remained silent.

It didn’t take as long as I had first feared, there were Photographs of some very famous people who had died from these diseases. The ‘tell’ was that they hadn’t been in the other two offices. Something an enemy most likely wouldn’t have known.

It was a word game. The names of those were a code. I made a few abortive attempts before striking the correct password. Never mind that passwords hadn’t been used in years. Which made it all the more ingenious. Old tech didn’t mean it wasn’t still useful. Kids today have no clue of the things their grandparents came up with.

It was more or less the same drill. I read the files in the desk, again with some disbelief. Grandfather, are you for real? Finally, I pressed the intercom switch, and the voice of the front desk receptionist answered. “How may I direct your call?” I just loved it when I was able to talk to a real person. “I would like to talk to Dr. Franklin Stine, Please,” I said that without making the connection in my head. “Just a moment, sir, I will connect you.”

I next spoke to Dr. Stine, “I’ll be right up,” he replied. I waited. It was a short wait. A knock and I had him enter. This was the third time I was used to the sign countersign of our greeting. I imagined it would change with the next stop.

What was not usual was that he didn’t request the computer to secure the room. “I don’t wish to speak here. if you would follow me, Mr. Wolfenstein.” Okay, that was another difference.

I was then led from the office to the ground floor, then down again. Finally, we ended up in a sub-sub-basement through some thick doors and walls, into an office.

Upon entering Dr. Stine, spoke, “Adam, secure the building.”

What then? I didn’t think mental illness required such security.

The computer voice responded, “The building is secure.” The computer voice wasn’t Adam’s as well. Another difference. Although this was all too new to me that there was an established pattern.

Dr. Stine said, “Have a seat.” It didn’t seem to bother him that the girls Nicky and Wind Song assumed stations beside the door. Had they been here before.

Dr. Stine waved about the room, “You have questions?” perhaps the understatement of the year, probably of a lifetime. I was at a loss for words. Dr. Stine patiently waited while I gathered my thoughts. It didn’t take long as I really had little to go on.

Unless he was dissecting human brains from unwilling participants. I couldn’t reason out how mental health research of those two diseases rated such encompassing security.

Finally, I said, “What in god’s name is going on here? “ Even the Coca-Cola company didn’t have as much security for its formula.

“Oh, the Faraday cages,” he said as if that explained everything.

Faraday cages? I hadn’t noticed any of those.

When the Dr. saw my look, “Yes, Faraday cages. In fact, this entire level is one. This whole sublevel used to be used for highly sensitive data storage. As you can see, most of the servers have been relocated.

No, I hadn’t seen that.

It was a rather large basement, so he took me on a tour of it. There were several large wired vaults. Most of them were empty. He walked me over to one that was not. “You might find this interesting.” Unlocking the door.

I highly doubted that. “These,” pointing at a set of racks. The Dr. explained, are analog. One of our techs took a look at the back of one of the servers and exclaimed, ‘My god, it has tubes.’

“Tubes? Long hollow tubes for the flow of liquids?”

“No, no, no. Here take a look.” Taking me to the back of a rack.

Ever seen a black rotary dial phone? Neither had I till my grandfather took me to a museum of old tech. My first thought was, how did they carry such a heavy thing around. Then I noticed the cord. It wasn’t wireless?

Dr. Stine pointed to a glass object, “That is a vacuum tube,”

“How do you change the filter?” I asked.

“No, no, no. Not that kind of vacuum, these... “ As the Dr. sought to find the right words. Control the flow of current and voltage, much like a transistor.”

I’m afraid I didn’t know what one of those was as well.

“An integrated circuit? A computer chip? A CPU?”

“Oh?” Finally getting it. Hey, it had been years since my grandfather took me to that museum. I was just a kid. Give me a break. I can’t be expected to remember everything.

“Here, look at this,” he pointed to a data plate.

It was badly corroded, but I could make out the manufacturing date, 1935.

Nineteen thirty-five? Computers had been around a long time but Nineteen thirty-five, and this look to be of an advanced design, not a prototype. I racked my brain. Babbage ... Babbage, a Charles Babbage, had developed a mechanical computer, the Analytical Engine he had called it. When was that? That used punch cards. Well, there were no punch cards here.

I went to the front, I saw two large spindles. That museum had included an old fashion computer that used tape. The information plate there described it as being used in the nineteen sixties. This was thirty-five years older than that.

There was a sealed cabinet that held rows of paper tapes.

“Ah, yes, those. We haven’t attempted to run them for fear of destroying them.”

“You mean they are still readable?” I asked, astonished.

“We think so, but as I said, we haven’t put them to the test.” Pausing, “Then again, what could possibly be saved on them that would be useful today?”

I thought there was that. A curiosity then, nothing more.

I turned my attention to the matter at hand.

“Okay, that explains these cages. it doesn’t explain why you’re down here.”

He shushed me. I kid you not, he shushed me. “Keep your voice down. These walls might have ears.” And I thought if my grandfather was paranoid. This didn’t even scratch the service of that. I looked at the walls. I didn’t see any ears, but that didn’t mean there were none.

I repeated a bit more calmly, “Okay, what are you doing down here that requires such precautions?”

“It’s not what we are doing. But what we have discovered and are no longer doing.” Dr. Stine stated.

Well, that made sense. It made sense to you, right? I blinked several times, “Say again.”

“It’s about what we are not doing. Or at least being extremely careful of doing.” Dr. Stine tried to explain.

“What has any of this have to do with Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases, and Dementia?” I asked. I was still under the delusion that was what was going on here.

“It’s about the diagnostic tool we developed to diagnose those diseases and create a treatment.” Dr. Stine explained.

“You have created a treatment?” I asked excitedly.

“I wish that was all we had done.” He replied.

I was confused. As I said at the beginning, there was no known cure for either. But, had there been, you couldn’t have kept it secret. Such a discovery couldn’t be kept hidden, nor should it be.

“All you had done? There was more?” I questioned.

Dr. Stine explained. “For a long time. There has been increasing research into developing a non-intrusive way to examine the brain of those so afflicted. But unfortunately, MRIs and CAT scans were not cutting it. Only a dissection of the deceased brains offered up any clues. A bit too late for those that had died.”

“Wait? Have you developed such a device?” I asked.

I could see him biting his lip before answering.

Dr. Stine. “Yes.” Was the simple answer. Clearly, there was more.

The Dr. followed up with, “Let me be clear; we never set out to find what we have. It was, I think it was an accident.”

“Spit it out, Doctor, don’t keep me in suspense.”

“We. Can. Read. Minds.” He said slowly. “That is not all. We can plant suggestions in the minds of those we can read.

“What ESP?” I asked, stunned.

“No, not quite.” Clearly, he wasn’t prepared to explain himself. “We can read and implant suggestions in the minds of those with some precision. That might be overstating it.”

A mind-reading device? No! more than a mind-reading. If I understood this.

“And that is bad how...” as my mind slowly made the implications. “Crap, double crap.” looking about the room, “You sure this room is secure?” Looking over at the girls. Could I trust them with this?

Then it dawned on me. “You have it here, in this room?”

A hesitant nod from Dr. Stine.

Wait, this couldn’t be all bad. My grandfather had stated that everything on the list would all have a positive benefit for humankind. I then relaxed a bit. This wasn’t as bad as it may have first sounded. To be sure, Dr. Stine hadn’t contributed a positive side. The room itself was enough to give you the creeps.

Grandfather’s calming influence washed over me. Okay, taking a deep breath, what did we have here?

“Okay, Dr., let’s start from the beginning.”

“You have used this to scan your patients?”

“Yes, of course. How else could we have found out about its other capabilities.”

“Were you able to help those you scanned?”

“Well, yes and no. But we stopped. That is, I had stopped the work as soon as I learned of these side effects.”

“Side effects?” I asked.

“Well, as we were probing, it seemed like we were uncovering memories. It wasn’t just like that. I mean, no one had ever seen a memory pattern before.

“Interesting. And what had my grandfather have to say about it?”

“Actually, your grandfather didn’t seem a bit surprised at the revelations. Almost as if he had expected us to discover it.”

“Wait, you believed he expected that of you? Just where did this device come from? Did you create it?

“Oh no, we are doctors, psychiatrists, and clinicians. Not mechanics.

“Jim, I’m a doctor, not a mechanic.” Now, where had that thought come from?

“So, you didn’t put it together ... who did?” My grandfather, of course. But he was no engineer, certainly not a scientist. It didn’t really fit in with who he was.

Dr. Stine, “Well, we assumed it came from one of his other companies.” Then, looking at me, “Mr. Wolfenstein certainly had the assets.”

He most certainly did. But none that have could have put this together. The medical nanobots, the nano suit, and now this. Oh, and the Girls. Just where did they fit in?

I nodded. Somehow, I had thought that would be the case. I again looked over at the girls Nicky and Wind Song. I had learned that they had been personally selected by my grandfather. For my personal protection, over the objections of Nick. Nick was one of those people that thought size did matter. The only thing lacking in his team members was the knuckle-dragging.

My grandfather said he was the best, so I let it go.

The last two stops wouldn’t have been one of them. Though I was thinking of having Mr. Strong back engineer it.

The ‘Family’ had been falling apart at the seams. Yet my grandfather felt he had no time to supervise the rest of the family members. It had been something else that had consumed his time. I was beginning to understand what that was.

First, my psychical protection. Now would this be part of my mental protection? How long had he been working on that? Looking back, those overseeing the other work had said years? Years? Just how many. I was going to have to go back and question them about that.

Though none of it was making sense. Why hadn’t my grandfather just done so if he had wanted to train me to become the next ‘Family” head? What was with all the skull and dagger intrigue?

Father! He would have been the next logical head of the Family. However, anyone who knew him would realize our Family wouldn’t remain first once he was empowered.

There would be no need to plot against him. Father was his own worst enemy.

Had my grandfather openly trained me, it would have been like painting a target on my back. Okay, so I was slowly putting it together.