The Quest For Perfection (Is A Damn Fine Thing)

Part II: The World Beyond The Water - Chapter 18

18

Whenever the phone rang, it did two things for Harold Wells. Won him money or lost him money. Which was the way he preferred to look at the world; green and red with nothing in between. Sitting in the back seat of his favourite car, a coal black Humvee he stared out at the world through tinted windows, catching the odd reflection of his paper white hair, tanned leather skin and baby blue suit set below his baby blue eyes and a white smile that matched his hair.  This was the way he liked to live, on the move, never stopping. Because stopping is when you get caught. Whether it be by age, humanity, disgruntled employees, family members or the law, he didn't care. He had no interest of slowing down, which was one of the reasons why he loved his latest investment. He knew that when the project, started to yield results, he would never need to slow down and he'd never need to get caught. It had first been brought to his attention by one of his advisors. There were two scientists, a married couple, that wanted to run a project which would see the participants submerged into a dreamscape, living an imagined happy ever after wherein the answer to true happiness would be discovered. He remembered that initial meeting, years ago now, when they came to his office. They were enthusiastic but broken. Tragedy had struck the pair yet with the loss of their child. Enthusiastic but broken, and the enthusiasm was the most surprising. They had sat in his office, just the two of them and sipped his coffee whilst explaining just what his money would be going towards.

Harold had observed them for a moment or two after Issie had finished a scientific spiel, one eyebrow raised. "I'm not a scientific man, Dr Wyatt, you'll have to forgive my lack of understanding, it's no fault of your own, merely a man born in an analogue age. What exactly do you need the money for?"

Issie, eyes dancing with excitement, although even then they had started to pale, started listing resources. "Well, we'd need to build a base, there's a myriad of equipment that we need, we...."

Harold smiled, shaking his head and drinking another sip of Ice Tea (coffee went through him and there's just nothing elegant about a man who's stomach makes noises to signal the need for a bathroom break) "I understand that you need resources, equipment, staff, participants. I mean what are you looking for? Why? What are you hoping to achieve?"

Tom and Issie looked at each other for a moment. Tom squeezed her hand but before he could speak, Harold spoke for them. "You don't know, do you?"

Tom locked eyes with Harold then, there was steeliness to the boy, a fire. Harold liked that, this whole thing was beginning to amuse him with a thrill he was ever in search of. "Mr. Wells, that's too simple an answer."

Harold waves away the formalities. "It's Harold. And enlighten me."

Tom glanced at his wife for a moment before he spoke, and that was when Harold saw the heartbreak that splintered through them. "You know about our background, about our history, you're too smart and too rich a man to take a meeting without knowing exactly who you're getting in a meeting with. And neither are we."

Harold raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really. You know about the......you know about our history. And I don't blame you if you think this is all just an exercise in grief. But I can assure you it isn't. We have a number of theories about what the results this project may yield, but there is no definitive outcome. Simply put, we want to explore what would happen if we lived the perfect life. What would this do to the brain? To our mental health, our physical health? True happiness. No margin for error, no sadness. Now, if it simply becomes an exercise in simulating an alternative life, then maybe it'll just become a tool for therapy. Hell, maybe it'll just become an attraction at a theme park. But there is a chance that it could do more. A lot more."