Alex focused on the glowing red screen, expressionless. He was calm; he was ready. A small, white rectangle popped up, and the following text scrolled from right to left: "Push the power button on the headphones and put them on." Alex complied.

"Do you hear me?" a voice asked. Alex could hear, but this time the voice was different. Before, it sounded like a computer mindlessly converting text to audio. This sounded like a real person speaking through some type of voice-morphing software. It sounded like the guy you see on the news, the one with a blurred face that wants to conceal his identity. Deep, garbled, and somewhat demonic, this voice sounded far creepier than the last.

Alex typed "Yes" on the keyboard.

"No need to type your answers," the devil voice replied. "I can see and hear you."

The hair on Alex's arms stood on end, but he maintained his composure. "I assume I'm speaking to Howard?" Alex asked.

"Yes. I assume you're no longer skeptical about my offer."

"Correct. The $524,000 bank balance took care of that," Alex replied.

"$524,000? It should have been closer to $565,000. Hold on."

There was a moment of silence, then Howard spoke again. "You checked your balance before the final deposit showed in your account. Today's deposits now reflect the entire $550,000 that this project will pay. Would you like to log in and verify?"

"No, but thanks. I don't have any reason to doubt that it's there," Alex replied. "Just to be honest, though, I would like to say how uncomfortable I am with a lot of this. The idea that you just accessed my bank account like it was nothing is pretty hard to get my mind around. I just want to get that out there, OK? I mean, I don't suppose anything should surprise me at this point, but I'm not used to feeling like somebody can just hack any of my passwords and go through whatever they want."

"Alex, there are a couple of things that you need to understand before we begin. This first point is the most important, so pay very close attention. Are you ready?"

"Yes," Alex replied in a serious tone.

"I do not speak lightly. If I tell you something, I mean it. You must not underestimate the gravity of anything that I say to you. Take my words literally and very seriously, because if you do not, much of what you need to understand will be nearly incomprehensible. Are we clear on that point?"

"I think so."

"'I think so' is not good enough. Tell me what you think I mean."

"You're basically telling me that you're a straight shooter. You mean business."

"It's much deeper than that, Alex. Let me try again. I'm going to share things with you about reality that will contradict nearly everything you intuitively believe is true. Inaccurate beliefs that you've picked up over your lifetime, basic assumptions you have about how the world works. They are wrong and must be eliminated.

"The only reason you were shocked when I accessed the computer in your basement is because you're living in a false reality; you're living in what we call "the illusion." It's also why you were shocked when I deposited half a million dollars into your account and, just now, when I easily accessed your banking details. If you were living in the real world, Alex, the world I occupy, none of these things would have surprised you. You would have known they are as easy and common as making a phone call.

"When I say that you need to take my words literally and very seriously, it means you must not allow your preconceived notions of reality to interfere. It will be difficult at first because you have been raised in the illusion, and your mind is a product of that illusion. However, unlike most human beings, you do possess the capacity to recognize reality if it is shown to you. That is all I'm going to do. I'm going to show you reality. Your job is to accept it. For instance, when I tell you that I will make deposits and end your skepticism, you should trust that it will be done. When I say that your entire life and world view is about to change forever, you should prepare yourself because it is true. Do you understand?"

Alex shifted uneasily. Mesmerized by Howard's garbled voice and surreal message, he felt like he'd already slipped into a new reality, one where he was out of body and just an observer. Howard's question snatched Alex from la-la land and abruptly stuffed him back into his own skin. He swallowed hard, aware that Howard was watching his every move, and squeaked his reply: "I do. . .understand." Embarrassed by the pathetic tone of his voice, he cleared his throat. It was pointless. Howard must have picked up on the fear.

"Very good," Howard replied. "The second thing you need to understand is that there will be requirements. These requirements are nonnegotiable. If you violate the terms of our agreement, you will not be paid, and you will risk further consequences. However, if you stick with the terms, you will be paid the amount I've offered and, more than likely, you will have access to far more lucrative opportunities in the future. Would you like to hear the terms now?"

Alex embarrassed himself again, this time by overcompensating for his former mousey reply. "Yes, I'm ready!" he practically shouted.

"You will not mention me at all, either in the book or to anyone else. I never contacted you; I do not exist. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"You have six months to complete this project. The book must be kept short, between one hundred and 125 typed pages, plus or minus 10 percent. Understand?"

"Yes."

"You must realize that keeping the book short does not make your task easier. The opposite is true. You will be exposed to a tremendous amount of new information, and nearly all of it will seem important enough to mention. That is why I'm limiting you. If I don't, you will end up with a five-hundred-page book that sprawls needlessly. The low page count will force you to choose the most compelling arguments in support of two main themes."

"What are they? The two main themes?" Alex asked.

"OK, Alex. This is your first test. You need to deeply consider what I'm about to say to you. Are you ready?"

"I am."

"The main theme is this: There is only one law: The Law of Power. Say that back to me."

Quickly, and without thought, Alex repeated: "There is only one law, the law of power."

"Say it like you mean it. Think about the implications of what I just told you. There is only ONE law: The Law of Power. Consider that for a moment, and then repeat it."

Howard was right. Despite him just telling Alex how important it was to think deeply about his words, he'd simply repeated the phrase without considering it at all. After reflecting for a moment, he said the phrase back with much more conviction: "There is only one law: The Law of Power."

"Excellent. The second theme is this: Deception provides what the truth denies. Say that back to me."

Alex struggled to make sense of the phrase. "I don't understand," he said. "What do you mean by 'Deception provides what the truth denies'? How can 'the truth' deny something?"

"When you emerge from the illusion, Alex, you will know. For now, remember what I told you a moment ago. Dispose of all preconceived notions, and just consider the words deeply. When you feel you can do so, repeat the statement as though it were your own." Howard's voice slowed to a crawl and became more deliberate: "Deception provides what the truth denies."

Alex took a deep breath, cleared his thoughts, and considered the words uncritically. He drew another deep breath and exhaled slowly. Once more, with his chest out and his shoulders back, he filled his lungs to capacity, slowly exhaled and then whispered the phrase to himself: "Deception provides what the truth denies."

Alex had never whispered while his ears were covered. The headphones created an eerie effect, like a ghost's voice speaking inside his head. "What the truth denies," the ghost whispered to him again. A hint of understanding presented itself. It was profound. "Deception provides what the truth denies."

Alex took another deep breath and, with his lungs full, spoke the words as if he'd just come to an amazing realization: "Deception provides what the truth denies." He shook his head, searching for a way to justify the sense of epiphany. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but that didn't make the statement any less powerful. A light flickered in his mind, and he knew something profound was about to come into view. The unease he'd felt just a few moments earlier gave way to exhilaration. Howard watched silently, a satisfied smile crept across his sagging, lifeless face.

"That's crazy!" Alex exclaimed. "That's really crazy. I've never experienced anything like that before. I really felt something. Something, I don't know, like a secret, or a deep, deep truth."

"It is a deep truth, Alex. You are correct. It's a truth the dominant class has used to maintain power for thousands and thousands of years. Today, we rarely use the words in that form. We speak more in terms of pretexts for our policies, but the sentiment is exactly the same."

"Pretexts for polices?" Alex repeated. "Can you tell me a little more about that?"

"We will discuss everything in greater detail over the next few days. Don't worry, you will see clearly soon enough. First, you need to accept the terms of our agreement, including the requirements for the project. If you have any questions before you accept, ask me now."

"Can I spend any of the money you wired into my account?"

"No, you cannot. The deposited funds will be gone by the end of the day. You will be paid when you deliver an acceptable manuscript."

"How do I know you'll accept the manuscript?" Alex asked.

"Do you understand the requirements?"

"Yes, but what if it isn't good enough? What if you feel I didn't do a good enough job?"

"I've read your writing, and I know your mind. I have no doubt that if you stick to the terms, you will deliver an acceptable manuscript. I will have final say on editing, but that isn't your problem. You deliver the manuscript, I'll take care of the rest, including the agreed-upon payment. Now, do you accept the terms?"

Alex finally found the courage to ask the one question he'd wanted to ask from the beginning. "Why me, Howard? Out of all the people in the world, why did you choose me?"

Howard had no intention of telling Alex that he was his father, no intention of distracting either of them from the task at hand. And that is all it would do; it would distract them both.

Raised in the illusion, Alex would falsely assume that Howard had feelings toward him because he was his son. Howard, raised in the real world, had no use for such feelings. In the real world, the world of the dominant few, "family" wasn't an important word. It provided no measure of what truly mattered among the elite: loyalty. That was one of the first lessons Howard's father drilled into his head as a child. Disloyalty to power and privilege was the highest crime and expanding power and privilege was the noblest cause.

Howard's father died over two decades earlier, but his voice lived on in Howard's head. If Howard injected any inappropriate emotions about Alex into this purely strategic relationship, his father's ghost would excoriate him: "We did not achieve our place in this world by engaging in sentimental nonsense. We did not achieve our place by wasting time on useless relationships! Do you understand me, son? Repeat that back to me! Now, repeat it again! Say it like you mean it!"

Howard assured himself that there was nothing inappropriate about hoping to recruit Alex into the inner circle. After all, they needed all the strong minds they could find. But he could not allow a one-night stand with a country-club cocktail waitress to interfere with his analysis. That would be unacceptable. It would border on disloyalty.

With his father's words ringing in his ears, Howard convinced himself that Alex was chosen based solely on the merits of his writing, his IQ, and other relevant data in his file. He convinced himself that Alex showed the most promise of all the other candidates he'd considered. He convinced himself that, if Alex fell short of the mark, he'd leave him to squirm and die among the rest of the inferior class, exactly as nature intended. Unfortunately for Howard, this was all a willful act of self-deception.

Howard worshipped his father—his strength, his cunning, his ability to always get what he wanted—and now, whether he could admit it to himself or not, he wanted somebody to worship him. He wanted Alex by his side, to teach him everything he'd been taught, to raise his son to his proper position in the world, and, most importantly, to establish an unbreakable bond. Because, despite everything Howard had accomplished in his seventy-eight years, he lacked the one thing his father always took for granted—an incorruptibly loyal successor. Somewhere in what remained of Howard's human side, he realized that the loyalty he craved could only develop between a parent and a child. If Alex proved himself, Howard could reveal his identity and develop the relationship he desperately yearned for. If Alex failed, he would be devastated.

"As I mentioned yesterday, Alex, I've been watching you for a very long time. Do you remember the tests you took in second grade? Remember when they made a big deal about your scores?"

"Sure, I remember."

"You did very well, ranking in the top 2 percent of all children tested."

"Yeah, they said that me and some girl were eligible for their 'gifted class,' whatever that meant, but they never moved me into the class. Not that I cared. As I'm sure you already know, I hated school."

"The advanced classes wouldn't have been effective, Alex, and that is why they did not place you. The psychological testing indicated that you would have been too much trouble. Have you ever wondered why you always hated school?"

"Not really. If anything, I wondered how anyone could not hate school. It was ridiculous—all of it."

"Can you be more specific?" Howard asked.

For a moment, Alex forgot who he was talking to. Frustration overcame him as he browsed through his memories.

"More specific? I wouldn't know where to begin. I mean, if I had to pick a single issue, it would be that I was forced to waste twelve years of my life sitting in a room with my mouth shut, learning about things that I had no interest in and absolutely no use for. Reading, writing, and math seemed useful, but the rest of it was stupid, and the best reason anyone could come up with for why I had to pay attention was: 'You want to be smart, don't you?'

"Well, how smart is it to spend twelve years of your life memorizing mountains of crap you'll never use? Wouldn't it make more sense to spend that time learning things and developing interests that were at least likely to be useful? I asked that question. I asked it a lot. Without fail, they'd only say, 'Well, you need to know this stuff to graduate. If you don't graduate, your life will be ruined. Gotta get your diploma!' Why exactly do I have to get my diploma? How does having a piece of paper with 'high school graduate' stamped across it prove anything about my ability to succeed in life? Nobody could give me a good answer to that question either."

"You didn't accept that school was making you stronger mentally," Howard injected.

"Well, I knew that anything I was actually interested in would have to be learned outside of school. Aside from the basics, they weren't teaching me anything about how to become a writer or how to get into real estate or start a small business. They didn't teach anything about being an entrepreneur or an inventor or anything like that."

Alex paused to gather his thoughts. "I don't know. I can't really put my finger on it, but there was something really wrong with all of it. All I know is I was convinced that I was being forced to waste my time, and apparently, I was right. I dropped out at sixteen and haven't needed any of what I 'missed,' let alone 99 percent of what I didn't miss. I read awhile back that reading, writing, and arithmetic can be taught in about a hundred hours. So, what's the point of all the rest of that 'schooling?' What's the point of forcing everyone to learn a bunch of stuff that serves no practical purpose and, because so, will just be forgotten?"

"Do you have the notebooks that arrived in the package I sent you?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Now is a good time to begin taking notes of our conversation. I want you to take notes when you read the books I've sent too, but keep those notes separate. Start a notebook that's for our discussions only."

"Do you mind if I just type the notes? I can type a lot faster than I can write."

"That's fine."

"How can I open a notepad while this red screen is taking up everything?"

"Hold on," Howard said as he unlocked the laptop, allowing Alex to access the other programs.

"You see the desktop now, correct?"

"Yes. OK, Notepad is open, thanks," Alex replied.

"Very good. Taking notes will make our time together much more productive. But first, you need to let me know whether or not you accept the terms that I've outlined. I can't commit any more of my time and energy if you're not going to follow through with this project."

"Based on my understanding of the terms, I agree. I accept," Alex said.

Howard smiled. "Nicely hedged, son," he thought to himself.

"Excellent. Keep in mind what I told you earlier about preconceived ideas. You are going to learn a lot over the next few days that will contradict what you've been taught. If you need me to repeat something, or if you need me to slow down for your notes, let me know."

"OK," Alex replied. "Will do."