Genius Recruiter

by James Allen Starkloff

conclusion

“I see the problem.” Tom reconnected the coil wire to the distributor cap. Cliché. It was apparent to Tom that Natasha had probably sabotaged her own car as a means of picking up a guy. She was worthy of his company, and he played along. “That should do it. See if it starts now.”

The engine started without a glitch. “You are my hero.” Natasha smiled. “Please let me give you something for your troubles.” She reached into her purse for her wallet.

“No trouble at all. Keep your money. I’m just glad to have been able to help.” Tom thought that he knew what was on her mind.

“Oh, please. I want to do something. I know: let me buy you lunch. I know about a great little sandwich shop off campus.”

“All right. When did you want to go?” Tom didn’t mind going on the instant date as long as his girlfriend didn’t have to know about it.

“I can go right now, if that’s good with you.” Natasha opened the passenger side door for him.

“Then let’s sail.” Tom closed the hood to her car and slid into the passenger seat.

Natasha climbed in and drove to an area populated with metal industrial buildings. She made a call on her cell phone. “Hi, I’d like to make reservations for two. We’ll be there in just a couple of minutes,” she said in her sweet voice.

“Reservations at a sandwich shop? Why the formality?”

“They like it when I call in advance. That way I can get garage parking.”

A garage door was open in back of the storefront restaurant. Natasha drove inside and the huge door began to close. “Here we are...”

The garage door closed and two men walked to the car. They wore the standard government employee suits. One of them opened the passenger door and the other opened the driver side door.

Natasha stepped out of the car. “The package has been delivered.”

The suit on the passenger side said, “Mr. Mever, please come with me. Someone wants to see you.”

“Natasha, what’s going on here?”

“You’ll see,” she said while walking away.

Tom was hoping for a more friendly and logical answer. He was disappointed that Natasha wasn’t just a man-hungry woman. Then again, he couldn’t believe that he’d fallen into her trap. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.” He stood from the passenger seat and followed the man through a hallway that weaved to the right and left a few times like a maze.

A man opened an office door. He smiled and asked Tom to enter. The small office had a desk and a couple of chairs. A computer monitor sat on the desk. It said, “Please have a seat, Mr. Mever.”

Tom sat down. “You wanna tell me what this is all about?! Can you hear me? ’Cause if you can, I wanna know what is going on here.” Tom was tempted to tap on the screen.

Another man entered the room. “Mr. Mever, please accept my apologies for having to shanghai you. It was the only way.” He had a very light complexion, as if he rarely if ever went out doors. “My name is Dr. Zeike. We have something in common, you and I.”

“Do you want to share that with me?” Tom asked impatiently.

“We both have the same I.Q..” Dr. Zeike smiled.

“And that gives you the right to kidnap me? If you’re all that intelligent, you should know that what you’re doing is illegal.”

“I’m in charge of this operation. My boss works directly for the President of the United States. It’s our job to locate and procure the services of every genius in the free world by any means possible. And I don’t mean everyone out there with an I.Q. of one-sixty or better. We have much higher standards. You must have an I.Q. of over one-eighty before we call on you. That’s why you’re here right now.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. I am an American citizen and I know my rights. Either you let me go free now or give me an answer as to why I’m still sitting here.”

“Please hear me out, Mr. Mever. We are your friends. We want to take care of you.” Dr. Zeike took a moment to adjust his glasses. “I know that you’re not really happy attending the University. Maybe if you weren’t stifled into taking those sociology courses, you’d feel like you were accomplishing something.”

“So... what are you saying: that you kidnapped me for my own good?”

Dr. Zeike paused for a moment and smiled faintly, suggesting that Tom had just answered his own question. “Mr. Mever, do you love your country?”

“Don’t you dare question my patriotism! I’d be happy to serve my country in any way shape or form if and when Uncle Sam knocked on my door.”

“Knock-knock. Uncle Sam wants you.” Dr. Zeike pointed his finger at Tom.

“What are you... some sort of government think tank recruiter?” Tom asked.

“You might say that. The only difference is that I have a one-hundred percent success rate.” Dr. Zeike paused again. “You see, Mr. Mever, you cannot say no. I, or should I say we, the United States government are willing to make you an offer that would make any movie star, pop singer, or pro sports athlete green with envy. We are desperate for people like you.”

“What do you think you’re going to get out of me?” Tom was beginning to calm down but still felt skeptical.

“Your services, of course. We have many openings in our research and development department from which to choose. You could become an engineer in energy science. Or how about the field of medicine? We have many military contracts that have to be fulfilled, as well. You choose.”

“I haven’t any expertise in any of those fields. I wish I did but...” Tom explained.

“Previous experience isn’t necessary. We can train you to become an expert in any field. Your intelligence will allow you to learn at an accelerated rate. It won’t take you very long to obtain a doctorate degree in your chosen field.”

“I suppose you offer a great benefits package, too?” Tom asked, unable to restrain his sarcasm.

“As a matter of fact we do, with no out of pocket expense to you. If you ever become ill, the best physicians in the world would care for you. If the unfortunate were to happen to you, your beneficiaries would never need for anything. We offer a very generous amount of vacation time. And we have the best retirement package in the world.”

“And all I have to do is submit myself to captivity? I suppose that I’ll be sent to some off world Area 51 type of facility?” Tom continued to fight.

“Of course not. We want everyone in our family to be happy. You select where you want to live and work. You can always communicate with colleagues over our private internet.”

“What if I decide not to accept your career opportunity?” Tom probed.

“Let’s just say we don’t have that problem. Everyone eventually accepts the offer. We have recourses that insures us a one-hundred percent compliance rate. Money means nothing to the federal government.”

Dr. Zeike pulled a contract from his briefcase and sat it on top of his desk. “Mr. Mever, I have a contract that I want you to look over. It’s really very simple and straightforward. There are no hidden clauses. I think you’ll find it to be very favorable to yourself. It insures that you and your loved ones will be provided for for the rest of your lives. You’ll never have to worry about your financial future. We even provide you with your own personal secret service officers. I’d like to know what employers on the outside are able to make this kind of offer?”

Tom grabbed the contract from Dr. Zeike’s desk, keeping an eye on him while he did so. He scanned the contract. His eyes came to a complete stop when he read the seven figure annual income. “Okay, so what’s the catch? There has to be something in it for you.”

Dr. Zeike shrugged his shoulders. “There’s no catch. You work for us; we take care of you.”

Tom took a pen from his shirt pocket. “If I decide one year from now that I want out of this contract, I can just walk out and expect no problems from the federal government?”

“That’s what the contract states. Although, I’ve never known anyone to leave right after the one-year trial period.”

“Something tells me that my father wouldn’t want me to sign this contract. Could I have him look it over before I sign it?”

“Mr. Mever, this offer is highly classified. Even the mere mention of this contract will be seen as an act of treason. We have to protect our facilities from terrorism and espionage. Please don’t take it personally. Genius has a responsibility and a price tag.”

“Could I have time to think about this? I’d like to sleep on it or something.” Tom was tempted to sign the contract, but he wanted to consider the possible problems with the job.

“I can give you all the time you want as long as you don’t leave this building. We cannot allow you to leave now that you know about our secret organization.”

Tom understood what his last statement meant. “Very well, I’ll sign your contract under duress.”

Dr. Zeike practically ripped the contract from Tom’s hands after he finished signing. “You won’t regret this.”

* * *

Tom purchased a home to set up his own research laboratory. He wasn’t permitted to tell his father or his sister everything about his new line of work or about his new home. He did let them know that he had gained employment with the U.S. government and that it was classified. He felt uncomfortable not being able to tell them the whole story, but he didn’t want to go to some underground prison, either.

On Tom’s first day of employment, Dr. Zeike and an entourage of three government suits arrived to get him started. They brought in a server, ten unmarked plastic barrels of fluid, a transparent cylindrical tank, and several boxes of miscellaneous pieces and parts.

“What’s this thing going to be?” Tom couldn’t figure out why they weren’t setting up a computer desk and laboratory.

“It’s going to be your very own cyber laboratory. Science has come a long way since the days of microscopes and chemistry sets. I think you’ll be impressed. Oh, you’ll have to wear this.” Dr. Zeike handed Tom a special suit that looked similar to a dive suit.

While Tom was getting dressed, his father had walked into the house. A few minutes later, Tom returned. “This thing fits great. It’s not too loose and not too tight.” Tom was surprised to see his father. “Dad?”

“I might as well welcome you to our family, Tom,” said Randy.

“Do you mean that you’ve known about this all along?” Tom asked.

“Umh... yes, I have. I helped develop this aquarium,” Randy answered with a hint of pride.

“What the hell are you saying, dad?!” Tom was beginning to feel uncertain about how he should feel.

“What? What part do you not understand?” Randy asked.

“The part about you developing this thing.” Tom tried to remain calm.

“As I told you before: the U.S. government has known my I.Q. for many years. Why else do you think I had been warning you not to...” Randy held back the lecture. There was mixed company in the room and he didn’t want to give anyone a wrong impression. He rested his hands on Tom’s shoulders. “You’ll be just fine, Tom. Dr. Zeike will take good care of you and I’ll be here with you every day.”

Dr. Zeike checked to be sure that Tom had put on his suit correctly. “Very good. Yes... it’s sort of a one size fits all. The material adjusts to the person. This suit will allow your skin to synthesize all of the nutrients from the fluid that your body will need to remain healthy. You’ll never need to consume food or dispense waste ever again and you’ll be able to work continuously without the need for sleep. You will probably outlive everyone on this planet.”

“How am I supposed to breathe in the fluid?” Tom asked.

“The fluid contains the oxygen you’ll need. You’ll be able to breathe underwater, so to speak,” said Dr. Zeike.

“Dr. Zeike, we have everything in place and ready to be used,” said one of the suits.

Dr. Zeike nodded then looked at Tom. “Mr. Mever, you are about to see and feel what it’s like to spend a day at work within our private internet. The water tank will allow you to become disconnected from your physical restraints. You will be connected with the greatest minds of the world through this virtual reality headgear. Some call it an mental orgy.” Dr. Zeike broke a slight chuckle.

“You’ve sure given ‘think tank’ a whole new meaning,” Tom said, looking at the tank. “Well, I’ve always been one to try something at least once and I trust my father when he tells me that I’ll be okay.

“So...what is this... a nine to five job?” Tom stepped into the tank and Dr. Zeike helped Tom with the VR headgear and closed the hatch.

“You’re not an hourly employee. You’re salaried,” said Dr. Zeike. A fluid began to fill the tank. “And just as your contract stipulates, you’ll get a thirty-day vacation every year. We have a large list of VR vacations from which to choose.

“I bid you good luck, Mr. Mever.”