Timeshare

Louis was distraught. He had been following reports of his hero’s prognosis for months. The latest news was Justice Greenburg’s doctors had given her at most two weeks to live. To say Louis was concerned about JG would have been an understatement. He was convinced she still had much to offer, and he couldn’t just let her die. As he approached JG’s hospital room, he whispered to himself, “It’s now or never.”

1.

Louis described himself as a physicist and an inventor, but many who knew him just called him a “tinkerer,” a “crackpot,” or worse. Yet, he was a good man, a mensch, to use a more specific terminology, regardless of his status as a wannabe inventor. His heart was in the right place, even if some people thought his mind wasn’t.

When the honorable JG celebrated her 75^th birthday, Louis asked the question, “What if a person could share some of his life energy, just a little of his remaining time to live, with another person?” If enough people would be willing to give up a little of their time, a very important person could be given years to pursue a cure for cancer, a new source of power, or continue their work on the Supreme Court, for instance. He certainly would be willing to share some of his lifespan with someone like JG. Surely there must be others who would do the same. So, Louis began work on a special kind of Timepiece. His proposed device would allow him to give a little of his time to whomever he chose – a day, a week, a month, or maybe a year for someone in need of more time.

Louis’ wife, Melba, thought his idea wasn’t wise. “You know I love you,” she told him, “But suppose your invention works. Nobody knows how much time they have left. What if they gave away their remaining time and just dropped dead? Wouldn’t they be committing suicide?”

Louis just said, “Mel, it seems to me they would be giving their life, not taking it. It would be like giving someone a kidney only to have kidney failure in your other kidney a year later. And besides, nobody would be asked to give more than a few months. It’s the gift that matters.”

“Oh, Louis, that’s what I love about you,” Mel declared. “You’re so idealistic.”

For more than four years, Louis devoted every spare moment to his invention. He slept little. Melba argued he was shortening his life just by working on his idea. She was gracious enough not to mention all his failed inventions prior to this one. Somehow, to her at least, this idea seemed different. Louis was a man obsessed as never before. He pored over book after book on electricity and the electrical aspects of physiology. All he could talk about at mealtimes was how electrical connections, microcurrents, and electromagnetism governed biological processes. “If someone could rewire the micro-circuitry of the body in just the right way, he or she could cure anything, maybe even instruct the body to regenerate.”

For all his enthusiasm and determination – he kept saying, “JG isn’t getting any younger” to motivate himself – Louis was getting nowhere. He kept saying, “If only I had Tesla’s notebooks. He believed electrical current was the key. If I could just figure out how the body’s micro-circuitry works, I could make real progress.”

After countless setbacks, Louis was on the verge of giving up, forgetting about the whole thing entirely. Mel saw he was getting discouraged – and depressed – defeat was knocking at his mind’s door. He had handled failure before and bounced back, still optimistic about his next invention, but this time she feared Louis wouldn’t have a next invention. His dreams might just end with this one and the Louis she knew and loved might fade away along with it.

Partly out of concern, partly out of desperation, one morning Mel suggested Louis take a trip to the Muhlenberg Library in Manhattan. He’d never been there, and it was not far away from Nikola Tesla’s old rooms at The New Yorker Hotel.

“Maybe you’ll be inspired,” she told him. “At least you might find a new old book on electricity.”

Louis shrugged and admitted, “it couldn’t hurt.”

2.

The next day, he made a trip into the city. The Muhlenberg was an imposing 1906 structure, from the legendary Carnegie Library days. On the inside, it needed some work. Louis browsed the shelves, old-school, looking for titles and authors he hadn’t seen before. He found one or two, but after what he called his quick flip test, they didn’t reveal any new information. Louis asked where he might find any more books on electrical functions of the human body or electro-physiology, even speculative works.

The librarian kindly directed him to the sub-basement, where she’d heard they found some old books in a closet a few weeks ago. “They aren’t cataloged yet, but you’re welcome to have a look. I’ll help you if you find anything interesting. The elevator is over there.” Louis went to the sub-basement and immediately took a wrong turn.

After some wandering around empty hallways, he found an open closet. “It’s probably not the closet the librarian had in mind, but I’ll have a look.” At times like this, he often talked to himself.

Louis opened the door to a musty, cobweb-encrusted space. There were many books on the shelves, as far as he could tell from the dim light of the hallway. He took out his handkerchief to brush away the cobwebs and search for a light switch.

“Interesting, an antique push-button switch. Probably doesn’t work.” He pushed the top button, and the light came on. It was an amber filament light, like those used in the Westinghouse v. Edison days. “Well, well, well. They don’t make ‘em like that anymore. Let’s have a look.”

There was a lot of dust. So much dust. Was this the closet he was supposed to find? Louis expected to find some books on a cart or table, but here he was sneezing and swiping back cobwebs. He searched through the volumes. Electrical Engineering. Handbook of Electrical Circuits. Ohm’s Law. Physics. Electromagnetism. Maxwell’s Equations. Resistance Tables. Maps of New York City. Building Codes: Wardenclyffe, New Jersey. A Complete History of Serbia. Nothing related to his research.

Louis sneezed. When he opened his eyes, he noticed it. A black notebook was wedged into the space behind a row of books. It was an old-school lab-style notebook, handwritten, with a label that read: Electrical Observations – Human Body. N.T.

Could this be part of Tesla’s private collection, stored here for some unknown reason? Based on the titles, this speculation made sense.

The notebook began, “the amount of current and voltage applied to the body are only significant in so far as the way these can be controlled. While it is true, I have found low current and high voltage can stimulate the nervous system, this application is far too inelegant to affect any real improvement in health or longevity and may in fact have negative consequences. Yet, if one day a suitable microscopic circuit could be designed to apply the appropriate, practically unmeasurable, variations in frequency, voltage, and current, the human body might be persuaded to repair itself, and possibly a person’s life could be extended indefinitely. If I had the time, I would continue my research along the path I will lay out in the following pages.”

“Good Lord…” Louis whispered, “Wait ‘til Mel sees this…”

Louis placed the notebook in his messenger bag and backtracked to the elevator. When he arrived at the main desk area, the librarian he spoke to was no longer there. He thought he saw her out of the corner of his eye seated at one of the long oak tables, but when he looked again, she was not there either. He went home.

“Mel, you are an angel! Look at this.” Louis handed her the old notebook.

“It smells like a musty old cellar.” Mel said as she gingerly held the notebook. “Who is N.T.?”

“Who do you think, my dear?”

“Your other hero…Tesla?”

“I think so. I’ll be back later.”

“Don’t you want some dinner?”

“Maybe later.”

Melba knew there was no sense arguing with Louis when he decided to pursue a lead. And this lead seemed to put the fire back in her husband’s eyes, so who was she to stand in his way with a bowl of chicken soup? After a few hours, she brought him a sandwich and some coffee, but he was asleep on his desk, the notebook splayed out in front of him. As she had done many times before, she gently guided him to bed, saying, “you can start again in the morning, right now you need some rest.”

3.

“The clues are all here,” Louis said, pointing to Tesla’s notebook. “In the 30’s and 40’s there was no such thing as a microchip, but in these diagrams, Tesla pointed the way to how one day such a thing might be used to control microcurrents to rejuvenate the human body. I have the information I need to build my Timepiece!”

“How much will this cost?” Mel enquired. She was always the practical voice in the family.

“That’s the good news,” Louis replied. “The parts are available on-line, from any computer parts supplier. I could probably build a prototype for the cost of a high-end laptop.”

Mel said, “Well, that is good news,” but she was thinking, great, what we need is a non-functioning high-end laptop, or two, or three…

4.

The task wasn’t as easy as Louis first thought. Nothing worth doing can be accomplished in the time you originally planned. Doing well always takes more time than you anticipated. It would take another two years before Louis’ Timepiece prototype was ready. And time was running out for his hero. Like it or not, JG would have to be the guinea pig for his latest invention.

The Timepiece was divided in two parts, a sender, and a receiver. These looked like oversized old-school pocket watches, but with some important differences. They were equipped with concentric electrodes on their backs, something like the contacts on a typical button battery, but sized to the watch. Their front sides contained their control interfaces, built into an OLED display, like an Apple watch, only larger, but not so large that the Timepiece would not fit into the palm of practically any adult’s hand. The Red watch was the receiver. It functioned to collect time, in the form of micro-electrical impulses from a donor. It could be set for weeks or months, although more than one year was not recommended. The Green watch was the sender, which served to transfer these same impulses to any recipient who could use more time. The two were connected by a USB Type C cable. In operation, the Timepiece was simple. Collect time, in the form of electrical information, from one or more donors, requiring mere seconds for each donation, then send that time to a worthy recipient, again requiring only a few seconds for the transfer. The process was painless, unless you counted the pain of being laughed at after asking your friends, “Can you spare a little time? It’s for a good cause.”

5.

Louis lost track of the number of times he carefully explained how his invention worked only to be mocked by his friends and neighbors. Several agreed to donate a few weeks or months on the condition that he would never bother them again. Some were happy to donate, if only symbolically, because they too revered JG and would have done such a thing, “if only it were possible.” These were the friends who also said, “For everybody’s sake, I hope this works, Louis,” but sadly shook their heads as they walked away, as if to say, “it’s too bad Louis has gone off the deep end on this one.” Louis donated a year of his life.

In the end, Louis collected nearly six years, and had only a few days to deliver the time to his dying hero. He didn’t anticipate how difficult it would be to get a moment alone with a member of the US Supreme Court in a major New York City hospital. There was the obstacle of her family, who spent hours each day by her side. He thought about just asking them to let him try his invention on her but concluded this might get him banned from the hospital at the very least. Her doctors and nurses seemed to be constantly on call. And there was the guard. Louis staked out JG’s room as best he could. He brought flowers and chatted with the nurses at the station down the corridor. After a couple of days, they began to think of him as a kindly old fanboy who annoyed them with questions about JG but otherwise appeared to be mostly harmless.

6.

Time was running out for JG. Louis could see it. The nurses looked less optimistic than when he first met them. The guard, who no doubt had been stationed there for several weeks, had begun to phone it in. Her doctors and family members seemed to shake their heads more sadly each time he saw them leave her room. He realized he would need to act, soon, or all his research and hard work would be for nothing, and his hero would die when she could have been saved.

Fortunately, he was joined by several other well-wishers, in a sort of vigil, in the waiting room across the hall. He became acquainted with several of them and told them what he was planning to do, not that anyone believed him to be anything more than a well-intentioned eccentric. With maybe 2 or at most 3 days left on the clock, Louis seized his opportunity when the guard got up for a bathroom break. It’s now or never.

He crossed the hall, entered the hospital room of the most notorious jurist of our time, and took her by the hand. He placed the Green Timepiece in her palm and tapped the send button on the Red Timepiece in his pocket. He quietly reassured his hero, “Justice Greenburg, my name is Louis and I’m your biggest fan. Don’t worry, this won’t hurt. I’m trying to save your life.” Her eyes opened for just a moment in a strained effort to see what was happening and who this strange man might be. There was a brief hum, and the bedside monitors all registered a minor blip. Louis immediately found himself apprehended by hospital security.

7.

Charged with assault and trespassing, Louis was taken to the county jail. His possessions, including the Timepiece, were confiscated and placed in the evidence locker. Melba couldn’t raise bail that night, so Louis had to spend the night in jail. News reports told of an “unknown assailant” who entered Justice Greenburg’s room without permission and allegedly assaulted her. Was he attempting to murder her? Was he a right-wing extremist, or a left-wing mercy killer? Only time would tell. All Louis and Mel could do was wait.

The next morning, the indomitable JG sat bolt upright in bed. It was the first time she had done so in many weeks. “Who was that man? What was he up to? And furthermore, I’m hungry. What’s a girl have to do to get a decent breakfast in this place?” Her son called for the doctor at once.

After a full day of intensive testing and being escorted on walks around the floor, JG appeared even stronger than at breakfast. Her doctors concluded that there was no sign of cancer and that she looked and acted as a woman who was suddenly ten years younger. That night, she remembered the man who entered her room and said, “I’m trying to save your life.” Now, Judith Greenburg loved two things almost as much as she loved her family: good music and a good mystery. She asked to meet the man who called himself, Louis.

“Are you sure you want to meet this guy? He could have killed you,” JG’s son asked.

“Look, if he wanted me dead, I probably wouldn’t be here. He said he was trying to save my life. I want to know how he intended to do that. I want to know if he had anything to do with getting rid of the cancer. I want to know who he is. End of discussion.”

8.

The next morning, Louis was escorted to his hero’s room. As he entered, he staggered back and almost fainted. “It worked!”

“What worked?” the honorable JG looked up from her book and enquired.

Louis looked reluctant. “Perhaps we should talk…alone.”

“Very well. Everybody out.” JG placed her book on the table-cart.

“Mom. Are you sure?” Her son asked quietly.

“What did I tell you last night? While we’re talking, please arrange legal counsel for Mr….”

“Davidson,” Louis filled in the blank.

“For Mr. Davidson.” She turned towards Louis, “Please call me Judith, or JG, but none of this ‘Judge Judy’ stuff.”

“We’ll be right across the hall if you need us,” JG’s daughter interjected.

JG’s family and the medical staff left the room. The guard remained on duty outside her door.

“Alright, Mr. Davidson, what’s going on? What did you do to me? What did you put in my hand?”

“First, you can call me Louis. I’m happy to see you up and around. A lot of us are, and will be, of course. You see I’ve spent almost seven years inventing what I call my Timepiece…”

Louis recounted the story of his idea, his encounter with Tesla’s notebook, the effort it took to design and adapt the micro circuitry used in what he called his greatest invention. Then he sheepishly added, “Well, it’s the only invention I’ve ever had that actually worked the way it was supposed to.” JG laughed the way most people would after they were spared the side effects of a malfunctioning electrical device.

Louis reassured her, “Oh, there was never any danger. The worst that could have happened was that nothing would happen to you, and I would be on trial for murder. As it is, I only have assault and trespassing to worry about. And there is the small matter of potentially being declared insane.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not pressing charges and I’m sure I can convince the hospital to do likewise.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Louis, did you ever consider the fact that while you intended your…Timepiece…to allow people to give time to others, it could also be used to take time from people who never consented to give it? Did all your “donors” consent to the process?”

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean, sort of?”

“Well, some of them didn’t believe I could actually do it and I’m pretty sure they donated time to humor me. You know, they just wanted me to go away. Others hoped I could do it but didn’t really expect it to work.”

“I see.”

“Am I in trouble?”

“You’re lucky I’m not pressing charges. After all, you performed a medical procedure on me without my consent.”

“Oh, dear. I’m sorry. I didn’t think saving your life would be a problem.”

“Much like Dr. Heimlich, who assumed choking victims generally wish to breathe again, you acted, whether I was able to agree to it or not. Emergency treatment sometimes doesn’t require consent.” She paused. “So, where is your Timepiece now?”

“In an evidence locker.”

“You said it was the prototype. You must retrieve it at once. I’ll speak with your attorney.” JG reflected for a moment. “There is one more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“There may be other unintended consequences attached to saving my life.”

“Such as?”

“Well, what if extending my life makes things worse than if you had let me die naturally?”

“Doctors run that risk every time they save someone’s life. The Timepiece is just a different kind of medical device.”

“That’s true enough, but beware of playing God, Louis.”

“Point taken, Judith. Thank you for not pressing charges.”

9.

After the necessary paperwork and a little discussion with the local prosecutor, it was agreed Louis was free to go and would be able to pick up his possessions. The problem was, the Timepiece was missing.

“Now what, Louis?” Mel asked.

“I don’t really know. I do know that JG warned me that my Timepiece could be used against a person’s will – to take some, or maybe all, of their remaining time. Now, I’m afraid I’ve created a monster.”

“Are the police doing anything?”

“There’s not much they can do. And I’ve been racking my brain trying to think of who might have taken the Timepiece. I clearly remember the police confiscating it and giving me a receipt. After that…”

“Well, who other than your time donors and JG knew about the Timepiece?”

“There was one guy in the waiting room who seemed very interested when I told them what I planned to do.”

“Them? You told a room full of people about your invention?”

“They were all on JG’s side. I didn’t see the harm?”

“Oh, Louis. You’re too trusting. One of them must have heard about her recovery and connected the dots. He or she must also have connections with someone capable of removing items from the evidence locker. Don’t you see? Not everyone in the waiting room was there to support Justice Greenburg. At least one was just waiting around for her to die.”

“So much for good intentions.”

“Try not to worry, Louis. The Timepiece will turn up. Sooner or later. Let’s hope for sooner.”

The media had a field day reporting JG’s miracle cure, so much so the story about the “unknown assailant” pretty much disappeared, except for a few conspiracy theories circulating on the internet.

10.

A few days later, the New York Times reported another miracle cure. Also, in the daily police reports was a story about a homeless man found dead. The odd thing was his friends saw him the day before and he looked fine to them. He was 44 and his cause of death was officially listed as “unknown.” Upon identifying the body, his closest friend reportedly said, “He just doesn’t look like himself.” The miracle cure was a real estate tycoon who was dying of congestive heart failure and liver disease. He walked out of the hospital symptom free, with a smile on his face. When they learned about the homeless man’s death, Louis and Mel felt sick.

“It’s time to call Justice Greenburg,” Louis told Mel. “She gave me her number and specifically asked to be notified if I thought someone other than me had used my invention. I hope she doesn’t say, I told you so.”

“I don’t think she’s that kind of person, Louis,” Mel tried to calm him.

Judith Greenburg was also reassuring. She knew people who knew people. One of her connections knew an FBI special agent who would be discrete. If news of a life-stealing criminal came out, Louis, and possibly his hero, could be committed, or if there were enough further incidents, people could panic.

Louis tried to conceal his own anxiety. He had told JG’s friend of a friend, Special Agent Booth, everything he knew, leaving out the part about how he acquired Tesla’s notebook. He even showed Mr. Booth his drawings, at which time Booth told him they should be in a safe deposit box, at very least. The man, who stood a foot taller than Louis, seemed earnest and helpful, regardless of sharing the name of a famous fictional character.

To lighten the mood, Mel enquired, “So, how’s Bones doing?”

“I get that a lot.” Booth took the question in good humor.

“Special Agent Booth, what can I do to help?” Louis asked, still unsettled.

“Louis, isn’t there any way you can track your invention? You know, detect when somebody uses it?”

“Oh, I’ve been so worried, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Well, you think about it, and I’ll keep looking for other incidents like the one you told me about. Unfortunately, we may have to wait until more people die, and more so-called miracles occur.”

Louis got to work that day. The good news was his Timepiece emitted a tiny characteristic signal when operated. This was why the bedside monitors all registered a little blip. The bad news was he would have to be within 50 feet to detect it. Another bit of bad news was it would take him two weeks or maybe more to design and build a detector. It went without saying that more people could die in that time. Special Agent Booth said he understood, and even if he was still skeptical about the Timepiece, he was kind enough not to say so in front of Louis or Melba.

11.

While Louis was working on a detector, there was yet another miracle cure. This time an investment banker with brain cancer came back from the brink of death, just days before a last-ditch operation was scheduled. Two homeless men were found dead a few days before. Their causes of death were listed as “unknown.”

Special Agent Booth was becoming a believer. He interviewed law enforcement personnel in the precinct and tracked down the homeless men’s friends. At a local soup kitchen, he found a photograph of them taken days before their untimely deaths. They looked completely different than the corpses the police photographed – “used up” was the phrase that came to mind. Booth admitted it looked like the poor guys died of old age. His findings in this case were no different than the last. Rich man gets a miracle. Poor man gets left in an alley.

Booth phoned Louis. “Do you have your detector ready?”

“Not yet. I need a few more days, Mr. Booth.”

“You know, Mr. Davidson, at first, I didn’t want to believe your story about the Timepiece, but now I think we must stop whoever has it from taking more lives. Please hurry.”

“I’m going as fast as I can. I’ve hardly slept since we last talked. Just to remind you, the detector only works if I can get it within 50 feet of the user.”

“I know. I’ll be doing all I can to look for rich potential beneficiaries of your invention. Maybe if I can find one, we can put you and your detector in the next room. Then maybe I can catch our user in the act. Understand, we can’t charge them with murder, but we might be able to recover your stolen property and prevent any further deaths.”

“Special Agent Booth, how much do you think the user is charging for his services?”

“What would you pay to have another ten or twenty years?”

“A lot, I suppose…” Louis sighed.

“Yeah…but unlike these guys you wouldn’t pay with someone else’s life.”

“For the love of money…”

“…is the root of all evil, Mr. Davidson. I’ll call you in a couple of days.”

“Thank you, Mr. Booth.”

12.

“I’ve got a lead, Louis,” Booth said expectantly. “How’s it going with the detector?”

“Almost done. I’ll have it ready tomorrow, I hope.”

“Good. Let’s plan on you wrapping it up by then. Can you be on a plane to D.C. tomorrow afternoon?”

“I think so. What time? May I bring Mel? I need her. I haven’t gotten a lot of sleep lately.”

“No problem. I’ll book two seats and give you a call later.”

13.

Booth had discovered a tech entrepreneur was dying in a private room at Fairfax Hospital in Falls Church. He fit the profile. Extremely rich. Incurable disease. Days to live. Even more on point, a couple of homeless people were found dead the day before Booth called Louis. At least the perpetrators were smart enough to move from city to city. Unless an investigator already knew exactly what he was looking for, there would be no way to track them down. Fortunately, Booth had the testimony of JG and had been able to verify Louis’ claims, at least as much as one person could.

The easy part was sneaking Louis and Mel into an adjoining room. The hard part was waiting. Booth had it on good authority that the tech billionaire had a day or perhaps only hours to live, so it wouldn’t be long. Sadly, the ethical decision would have already been made. By the time Booth could arrest the user, the miracle cure would have been administered. Booth and Louis believed it would be better to share the time stored on the Timepiece than to give it all to one recipient.

Louis offered a suggestion. “What if I could set up the receiver to take most of the time back? This would allow our rich patient to have a few more years to live. Then we could, let’s say, share the rest with the kids in the cancer ward. What do you think, Special Agent Booth?”

“I like your style, Davidson. There may be no honor among thieves, but at least you have a sense of justice, poetic as it might be. It’s a deal. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves though.”

After several mediocre sandwiches and various canned drinks, a night in the hospital, and a cold breakfast, Louis made an announcement. “Booth. The Timepiece has just been activated.”

Booth rushed into the adjoining room. There was no sign of either the tech billionaire or the mystery user. It became clear that while they conducted their little stakeout, the patient somehow had been transferred to another floor, close enough to be detected, but far enough away as to be in another building.

“Dammit! Someone must have tipped them off. We have an even bigger problem now,” Booth grunted, clearly annoyed.

“More than one problem, I’d say,” Louis added. “The longer it takes to find the thief, the more likely it is he or she will be able to reverse-engineer my device.”

14.

There were no more miracle cures for nearly a month. Then, advertisements like this began to appear:

“Are you or is one of your loved ones suffering from a terminal illness? Would you like to have more time to finish the important work you started, or just spend more time with your children or grandchildren? Do you know someone who could share a little of their remaining time with you? We have developed a new process called, TIMESHARE, that can add months or years to your life! Three very important people have already employed TIMESHARE to add years to their lives – after their doctors had declared their cases hopeless! What would you pay for such a miracle? The cost is surprisingly reasonable. Call 1-866-TME-SHAR or visit http://www.timeshare4life.com for details.”

The logo on the ads showed two hands, palms upward, holding pocket watches connected by a golden-braided cord.

“This is not good, Louis,” Melba declared. “They’re commercializing your invention. What can we do about it?”

“There’s not much we can do, Mel. If I come out and claim rights to this invention, I’ll be called a crackpot or a patent troll.”

“But you have the plans, the drawings, the original designs. And we know they murdered five people.”

“We don’t have any evidence of the murders. And they have the prototype plus the willingness of someone in the Chicago PD to lie about how they got it. They’d just say it was never in police custody and I’m faking the plans just to get a cut of the profits. Plus, I’m the guy who was arrested for sneaking into Justice Greenburg’s room in Chicago. And I think we should leave her out of this.”

“Louis, this won’t end well.”

“I don’t see how it can. And I can see lots of ways they might destroy us or possibly harm JG.”

“We need to call Special Agent Booth.”

15.

“We’re in a different kind of war now,” Booth explained. “Do you know how much it costs to use Timeshare? The starting price is $500,000. More, if you want extra years, or they must pay people for sharing time with you. This Timeshare outfit just brought new meaning to the old saying, time is money. I know you and Melba must be pretty upset about it.”

“Upset doesn’t begin to cover it, Special Agent Booth,” Louis shot back. “They are paying people for time and charging rich recipients a fortune for the transaction. This is certainly not what I had in mind when I built my Timepiece. I’m angry, frustrated, and demoralized. What am supposed to do now?”

“First, calm down, Louis. Take a deep breath. Now that Timeshare is operating out in the open, so-to-speak, we might find a way to stop them. Unfortunately, the closest law has to do with trafficking in human organs. Maybe a state AG could be persuaded to file an injunction on the basis that it’s illegal to buy organs for transplant. Other than that, I need to watch for any deaths that might be related to your invention.”

“Just hearing you say that makes me wish I’d never invented the thing.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We must stay optimistic that our luck will change.”

16.

Conversation overheard at Timeshare:

“What do you mean the copies don’t work?”

“Just what I said. We can’t get the copies to work. We tried one set on a customer last night and he died at noon today. We can’t tell if they’re not receiving or not transmitting. We offered a full refund, and we had to eat what we paid the donors. The customer’s family may still sue us for fraud.”

“What about the original units? Still good?”

“We’re not sure. The display on the receiver blinks intermittently and we’re not sure they are transferring at 100%. So far, our patients are fine, but…”

“…what if it fails? What if a patient isn’t fine before their time contract runs out?”

“That would be another lawsuit.”

“No kidding. Lawsuits like these could end Timeshare. We need Davidson. Maybe we can convince him to help…for a price, of course.”

17.

“Our luck has changed, Mr. Booth. The management of Timeshare wants to meet with me. This could only mean they’re having technical difficulties,” Louis tried to curb his enthusiasm.

“Now, we must be careful, Louis. They may be desperate. They won’t react well to being challenged. They may try to force you to help. For me, the problem is how to protect you and Mel. They probably know who I am – they’ll see me coming. They may even be monitoring this phone call for all I know.”

“I’m not good at this cloak-and-dagger stuff,” Louis volunteered. “I think I should just go see them and find out what they want.”

“I don’t like it.”

“And I do?”

18.

Louis entered the offices of Timeshare with mixed emotions. On one hand, if he were Rambo or had magically acquired a particular set of skills, he would have been likely to take the place apart. On the other hand, he was Louis Davidson, and mostly wanted to find out why they needed his help with his invention. It didn’t take long to get his answer.

Louis was indignant. “My Timepiece wasn’t designed to transfer the amount of information you have used it to take. I didn’t build it to suck the life out of someone, like some kind of vampire demon. It was intended to share just enough time to extend a life by a few years, not steal decades and sell them to the highest bidder. I’ll need to recalibrate it, or it will cease to function.”

“We can set you up in our lab.”

“I’d prefer to take it home with me. I’m sure you’ve made copies by now.”

“That’s the thing. They don’t work.”

“Well, that’s not my problem.”

“Why don’t they work? We copied every detail.”

“Except one. I painstakingly calibrated my Red Receiver to match my Green Sender exactly, and both must match the values in the equation I derived from Tesla’s work. You see, the firmware of each unit must be tweaked because there is no way to build identical circuits.”

“Well, just write down the equation.”

“Sorry. I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t. The calibration process took me several months. The equation is much too complicated for me to remember it exactly.”

“OK. How much will it cost to get you to share your research? One million? Five million? Ten Million?”

“My research isn’t for sale.”

“Where is it?”

“In a safe place.”

“Mr. Davidson. I’d like to point out it would be unfortunate if something were to happen to Melba. But I’m sure you’ll agree to take us to your safe place.”

19.

Booth had anticipated the threat to Mel. He arranged for her to be in FBI custody for the duration of his plan. Louis was to play along with Timeshare, as Booth instructed. He agreed to take his new associates to his bank safe deposit box under the pretext of preventing harm to Mel. Booth and his partner were waiting in the vault. Theft, fraud, and extortion may not be as serious as five murders, but in this case these charges would have to do.

20.

After he and Mel were reunited, Louis had a brief phone conversation with JG.

“Well, what’s next for you, Louis?”

“Maybe it’s enough to know my invention worked. For now, I have it locked away. The FBI has confiscated the copies as evidence. They don’t work and can’t work unless properly calibrated, and so far, only I know how to do this. I hate to say it, but such a thing is only a matter of time.”

“Every invention has its drawbacks. Thoreau wrote, “Our inventions are wont to be pretty toys, which distract attention from serious things. They are but improved means to an unimproved end.”

“That’s true. I spent so much time thinking about how I would go about saving you, I never thought about how my invention might be perverted.”

“Don’t feel bad. Hyatt invented plastic to substitute for ivory. He had no idea there would eventually be an island of plastic in the Pacific Ocean twice the size of Texas and growing. Wilbur and Orville Wright had no idea someone would fly descendants of their invention into the World Trade Center. Bell had no idea telecommunications technology would in time lead to internet trolls, hacking, disinformation campaigns, and political division. Like you, all of them thought only of the good their inventions could do.”

“So, do you think it’s naïve to think of the good?”

“In a sense, yes. But without those who think of the good, most invention would stop. We would simply give up, shrugging our collective shoulders, as if to ask, what’s the use?”

“What’s the answer, then?”

“Don’t give up. Do not go gentle into that good night. Do your best. Try to anticipate some of the downside, the ways others might try to debase your work. It’s not easy. Take it from me.”

“Good advice. Thank you.” Louis paused. “Justice Greenburg, did I do wrong to extend your life?”

“Time will tell,” his hero put things in perspective. “Louis, the question isn’t what someone could do if they had more time. It’s what should we do with the time we have?”