LaCost

Patrick Rizio

Description

What is the potential of the human mind?
Jason Patrick LaCost is gifted with a genius level IQ, the ability to feel what other people are thinking and a passion for solving problems. As research head of a large biotech company, Jason makes discoveries that revolutionize agriculture, but pose a threat to corporations that control the planet's food chain. When a corporate shark wants to steal Jason's discoveries things get ugly. Jason's boss has his back, and calls on an old friend and security specialist for help and extra muscle.
Jason falls for art teacher Alison Russo, and together they take seven-year-old Sarah into their care. It becomes clear that Sarah is an evolved human whose intellect is off the charts. Jason and Sarah develop a mental and intellectual bond that normal minds have never achieved.
Jason's continuing research leads to bigger and more important discoveries, which bring bigger and more dangerous corporate bad guys who threaten his work, his family and his life. Jason and his extraordinary friends band together to fight off the threats, becoming like family in the process.

Sujets

• Science Fiction
• Adventure
• Fiction
• Action

Informations

• Publié par: Tablo Pty Ltd
• Date de parution: 15 juin 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781925939750
• Langue: English

Extrait

Dedication
   Finding a love that is one’s perfect match, that lasts one’s entire life, is extraordinary. Having found one that goes beyond that is, well, indescribably wonderful.
This book, and all my books, are dedicated to my incredible wife Patty. The one who has chosen me a million times, and the one who I will choose a million more.
Such things as are hidden I learned; and such as are plain; for wisdom, the artificer of all, taught me.
                                                                        WISDOM, 7 (21-22)
 
1
"Five out of seven times the leaves hit inside this circle.”
He was careful to take his time drawing the circle, knowing the apprehension of the others worked in his favor. He even made a bit of a show of it by rolling up his sleeves and picking out just the right stick for the job. He took great care making sure the crudely dug circle was clearly visible. They watched with their eyes. He watched from inside. He would soon discover other people didn’t do this. Right now, he simply figured he was outsmarting the others, and it was fun to see if he could pull it off.
“No way Jason. It’s impossible,” shouted one. The biggest one.
“Yea, you’re nuts,” echoed another.
“Tell you what,” he said, digging into the pocket of his faded jeans, “I’ve got a dollar says I’m right.” He knew none of them believed it was possible. He knew it wasn’t possible. He also knew none of them would call his bluff. It was just peculiar enough of a thing to bet on to make the others uncomfortable and back off.
He wasn’t guessing though, and he wasn’t exactly following a hunch. He knew what they would do, what they were thinking, because he could feel it.
After about a minute or so it became clear no one was willing to risk a dollar to find out. The big kid again spoke first.
“He knows somethin. It’s some kinda trick.”
The other boys gladly accepted this as a way out. They soon left looking for something else to do, at which point he found himself, once again, alone.
Jason was unlike other kids. Most kids his age had rooms littered with clothes, dust and toys. His was littered with clothes, dust and books. His insatiable appetite for reading, along with his extraordinary memory, left him with few friends. He would much rather read than play. It was just more fun to find out something new than to interact with another child his age.
He was constantly correcting everyone, (quoting this and citing that), and had the very unpleasant habit of continually being right. He seemed to be forever coming up with strange ideas concerning one thing or another and invariably finding ways of “testing them out”. Adults found him a bit of a curiosity. The other kids mostly just ignored him.
As he turned and looked at the forty-year old oak tree a gust of wind blew a dozen or so leaves from its branches. He smiled to himself as they came to the ground, landing nowhere near the circle.
*******
The drawings were disordered at best. Miss Redmond was content at this stage to have her preschoolers hold their crayons effectively and, of course, use both sides of the paper. Budget cuts being what they were nothing was to be wasted. Her four-year old class had progressed enough in their development to demonstrate controlled repetitions of motions, draw crude circles, and most could tell stories about the drawings they had created. All in all, she was pleased with their progress. The whole class seemed to be developing suitably in their motor skills and in their ability to visualize in pictures.
Putting the children’s folders together, it occurred to her how productive this year had been. No one was left behind in any of the expected stages of development, and discipline issues seemed non-existent. It was probably the best class the young pre-school teacher could have hoped for. They were all pretty good students. Except of course for Sarah. And even she wasn’t much trouble really. Simply a little slow to understand things at times. “Nothing to be overly concerned about,” she would tell Mr. and Mrs. Newman at the parent teacher conference later that night. “I’m sure she will do just fine by the time she reaches kindergarten.”
*******
Donna Newman carefully rinsed the dinner dishes one by one above the garbage disposal before putting them in the dishwasher. First the plates and bowls, they go in the bottom rack, then the glasses and cups for the top. She found herself getting upset when the big pieces stuck to the plates and had to be pushed off. She was not, of course, concerned about food sticking to plates. Her anxiety had started two hours before. The very idea that her child was in any way not…well…normal was just unacceptable. It had to be some kind of mistake on the teacher’s part. It just had to be. Her child was every bit as smart as the other kids. Smarter.
“Hon, relax. You’re making too big a deal about this. You really are. Think about what she said for a minute, will you! You’re acting like the teacher said she was retarded or something. All she said was…”
“Would you please keep your voice down. She’s in brushing her teeth. She’ll hear you.”
“Fine, I’m sorry. But you honestly are getting worried over nothing. I mean if her only concern is over Sarah’s artwork, who cares? We both know how good she is with numbers, and that’s a much better yardstick for intelligence, if you ask me.”
“It isn’t her artwork that Miss Redmond was talking about, John. It was more than that. She said Sarah was having trouble taking direction and…”
“Mommy, I’m ready.”
“Ok, sweetheart. We’ll be right in.”
John Newman hugged his daughter just like he always did, walked back to his own bedroom and fell onto the bed. He worked hard and rose early. His eyes closed and he enjoyed the feel of the mattress under his tired body. By the time his wife  looked in five minutes later he was already snoring.
“Sarah, show me which one of your pictures you like the best.”
“This one, mommy.”
“Let me see, sweetheart.” Donna Newman looked at the one her daughter had chosen. It really was about two steps above a scribble. Circles inside circles, (eyes?), and multiple lines, (hair, noses?), and what appeared to be several arms on each side. She asked Sarah why it was her favorite.
“Because it’s you and Dad.”
Her heart soared.
“Sweetheart, do you remember what your teacher said about both sides?”
“Yes, mommy.”
“Can you tell me what she said?”
“She said to do both sides.”
“Did you do both sides?”
“Yes, mommy. I always do all the sides.”
She had laid awake for what seemed half the night while her husband slept undisturbed. Every paper in Sarah’s’ folder had the same style of drawing. All had multiple lines and crude circles. All with coloring only occasionally inside the lines. All, from the perspective of motor skills, typical for a four-year old. All with the drawing on only one side of the page.
Maybe the teacher was right. Maybe she had to consider the possibility that Sarah was behind the other children, even if only a little. Maybe she just had to face it. (How could John be so unconcerned as to just fall asleep?). When Donna Newman finally drifted off, she had convinced herself that she would just have to deal with something that was not quite normal about her daughter.
She had no idea.
2
The Director of Operations looked through the report again without really reading it. He had been over it repeatedly and long since made up his mind. Putting down the folder, he pushed the expensive leather chair back from his desk and stretched. The momentary emptiness in his head cleared as he exhaled.
Why was it that as one’s authority increased the decisions came easier, seemed more obvious? Was it a measure of experience, a repetition of similar situations? Maybe instincts do sharpen with age.
At Universal Biotech, they didn’t get resume information equivalent to other companies, but in-depth personal histories of their applicants. That certainly helped. Then again, maybe it was just the simple luxury of having fewer people above you second guessing things. That would tend to simplify. Well, whatever the case, this one was a distinct no-brainer. There was a great deal to like and little to dislike about Mr. Jason P. LaCost.
According to the report, LaCost had graduated number one in his class and gone on to earn a doctorate in molecular biology, along with a masters in computer science, in only one calendar year. Such a demanding workload precluded him from having much of a social life, but the boy genius apparently preferred it that way.
Following graduate school disaster struck, both parents killed in a car crash. Having no siblings, LaCost came into a small inheritance. It consisted of a $50,000 life insurance policy, three-bedroom house, and a two-year-old Chevy. Nothing in the way of investments and a few dollars from a simple passbook savings account.
After finalizing his parents’ affairs, LaCost had sold the house and car, cashed in the insurance policy, and then taken a year-long sabbatical, traveling extensively in India, China, and Europe. He had toured the Taj Mahal and studied meditation in remote Indian villages. He had walked the Great Wall and seen Ming’s Tomb and the Forbidden City. He had visited virtually all of the great castles and churches of Europe.
LaCost listed his hobbies as reading and playing word games. His nature seemed entirely cerebral.
When he returned from his travels, LaCost took a position as Associate Professor of Biology at the University of Illinois. His four years there had been exemplary, but frustrating on a personal level. Research, not teaching, was the real passion for him. While the university did offer the opportunity to do research it wasn’t really full time and not even in the same ballpark with what the facilities at Universal Biotech could offer. This was why he had looked for work in the private sector and ended up applying here. This seemed to be the place where he could do the