And it was all due to this extraordinary situation that he found himself in, whereby he was able to apply an older man’s experience to a young man’s circumstances. If it had proved this effective in the course of one day, he wondered if there was any end to where it might lead in the years still ahead of him.
Back in his own office that afternoon, he found himself wondering if this might explain the phenomenon of genius, that the world had been baffled by for as long as people had been around to think about it. He had convinced himself by this time that his experiences of the day before had been nothing more than a peculiar form of déjà vu, brought on by the sudden activation of a heightened level of consciousness at which he was now functioning. Events since yesterday were diverging so rapidly from anything in the “dream” that any feeling of having lived this time before had for the most part already left him.
But the altered perspective and perspicacity of vision that had accompanied that strange sensation of regression—the calm, inner confidence that he knew where he wanted to go and why, knew how to get there, and that it would not be the end of everything if he messed it up anyway—remained. He felt like a mouse that had been raised to some privileged vantage point from where he could watch the others still scurrying about in the maze. He could see where all the courses led, what lay at the end of every decision path, and in which direction changes would alter them.
Perhaps, far from being unique, this altered state of perception that seemed, as yet, beyond the ability of physics and psychology to explain, was something that had happened to many individuals of exceptional achievement and ability throughout the past. If so, it was little wonder why so few of those affected had cared to speak out. Far better to be an Einstein or a Da Vinci without the complications of trying to explain what would probably never be believed anyway, than risk being locked up as insane. And then again, maybe many of those who did try to convey their experiences had been put away, excommunicated, burned, banished, or whatever for just that. It was often said that the borderline between genius and madness was very thin. And as he got to thinking more, it struck him as significant how much of the world’s religious teachings could be interpreted as coded references to undergoing a mystical rebeginning of life: “born again”; “life after life”; “inner enlightenments” that can only be experienced, not described. Suddenly, it all took on a new meaning.
Through the afternoon, he went mechanically through the routine of taking calls, seeing visitors, checking on the project, and dealing with queries from Judy. There was still no word from Hatcher, and he told Judy to check with the police to see if there was any record of an accident. Pinder called to let him know that the rumor was already going around the top floor of Corporate HQ that Corrigan was tipped to be the technical director of Xylog. The news must have got back to New York ahead of Borth, too, for Amanda Ramussienne was on the line a half hour later.
“I see Pittsburgh is in the news,” she crooned from the screen, giving him one of her special sultry looks through half-closed lids.
“Why? What’s happened?” Corrigan asked.
“You don’t watch it?”
“No time for trivia. Anyhow, I only believe the advertising. What’s happened?”
“Oh, I assumed you’d know about it. There was a shootout at the airport there—less than an hour ago. A maniac went wild and shot some police officers. Anyhow . . .” She smiled a seduction. “But, as a matter of fact, if the rumors I hear are anything to go by, you are getting famous down there too. There’s a whisper that you’re going to get the tech-chief slot at Xylog.”
“Who whispered that, now?”
“Oh, a little bird.”
Corrigan shook his head despairingly. “Nothing’s confirmed. We’ll see how it goes.”
Amanda became more serious. “So there is something to it, then?”