Chapter 15: All Aboard!
Frank glanced around the baggage hall at Heathrow airport, looking for a monitor that would tell him which carousel his father’s luggage, and therefore his old man, would show up at. Aha – number 13.
Frank trundled off, towing his own not-overfull suitcase. Packing for the cruise had been more a matter of throwing in anything from his meagre supply of clothing that might possibly be appropriate than narrowing down what to bring along. In that respect, at least, he wasn’t feeling too self-conscious; it wasn’t as if IT professionals were known for their fashion sense. For the first time in his life, he might even feel well dressed.
“Hey there!” a familiar voice boomed out behind Frank.
“Hey there yourself,” Frank said to his father. “Smooth flight?”
“Smooth yes, comfortable, no. Back when I used to fly all the time they gave you a real seat instead of a slot. It’s like traveling in a giant toaster now.”
“Yeah, well, it’ll probably get worse before it gets any better. See your bag yet?”
“Nope. I ended up with just this roll aboard.”
Not long after, they were on a chartered bus headed towards the cruise ship terminal in Southampton. “Is there anything more you’re allowed to tell me about this project than what I’ve read in the news?” Frank Sr. asked.
“I don’t know a lot more than that myself,” Frank replied. “I guess they figure the best way to avoid leaks is not to tell us anything until we get on the ship.”
“Makes sense,” Frank Sr. said. “What can you can talk about?”
“All I know is that each morning and afternoon we’ll start with a big presentation by a project leader or domain expert. Then we’ll be divided up into smaller groups for breakout sessions to discuss assigned topics. At the end of each morning and afternoon, we’ll get back together and note takers will present summaries of what we came up with in our small groups.”
“Sounds like a pretty standard meeting format,” Frank’s father said. “They really expect you to come up with much from that kind of powwow over just a couple of weeks?”
“Yes and no. I think the idea is that during the two-week sessions we’ll reach consensus on the most opportune directions to head in. Then we’ll all go back to where we came from and beaver away for three months on the pieces of the puzzle we’ve been assigned. Then it’s back to meet the ship somewhere and report in on where we’ve gotten to, and the same cycle keeps repeating till we’re done or until maybe they come up with something better.”
“Do you figure it will work?”
“I have no idea,” Frank said. “Apparently, the reference point is the Manhattan Project, and it’s true the physicists there were highly distributed. One team of physicists was at the University of Chicago, proving an atomic chain reaction was possible. Another was racing the clock at Los Alamos, designing the bombs themselves. At the same time, hundreds of thousands of engineers and others were working night and day work in Hanford in Washington State and Oak Ridge, Tennessee, processing uranium and plutonium ore and then concentrating it into weapons-grade material.”
“That was under war time conditions, though,” Frank Sr. said. “Everyone had a common enemy then.”
“True,” his son said, “but we’ve got the Internet now, and decades of experience working on a highly distributed basis developing open source software like Linux. Volunteers from all over the work now on virtual projects, including efforts to develop AIs to diagnose diseases. So, I guess, why not?”
An hour and a half later they were at the terminal. Large as the building was, it was dwarfed by the gargantuan cruise ship next to it; their own vessel was invisible somewhere beyond it. Frank and his father blended into the mob of people entering through the wall of glass doors and into the gymnasium-sized room on the other side. Frank felt like a brand-new freshman in college, wondering how to find his dorm, as he scanned the mob. Above the crowd were signs, and beyond them, lines of passengers snaking off in all directions. “Do you see one that says Argosy?”
“Way down along the right side,” his father pointed. “That looks like us.”
They joined a line of passengers shuffling through a door under the Argosy sign and then down a corridor that led to a room spanned by a set of customs booths. In this case, though, the booths were manned by staff from the Department of Homeland Security, who asked to see their invitations and identification. Every bag and piece of luggage was both scanned and meticulously hand searched to make sure that no one had tried to bring a satellite telephone on to the ship. Lastly, they were required to stare into a camera not unlike what you might see in a bureau of motor vehicles and have their pictures taken.
From that room, they followed yet another corridor which at length emptied them into a room through which, at last, they could see the Argosy, their home for the next two weeks.
Although not as massive as the glitzy floating cities the major cruise ship lines favored, the Argosy still impressed from up close. Five of its seven passenger decks towered overhead and above those rose massive funnels venting the faint exhaust from the ship’s turbine engines.
“Pretty nice looking boat,” Frank’s father said. “Brand new, you said?”
“Yes – this will be its maiden commercial voyage. It’s supposed to be extremely state of the art – built for a luxury cruise line that went bust. All the latest electronics, entertainment facilities – the works.”
“Pretty rich for my blood,” Frank’s father said. “But when duty calls…”
“Well, thank you for your service,” Frank said.
Crossing a glass enclosed bridge, they entered the ship, where they were handed a map of each deck by a young woman in a white, quasi-naval looking uniform.
“Welcome aboard,” she said. “Your bags will be taken directly to your cabin. May I ask your names please?”
“Frank Sr. and Frank Jr. Adversego,” Frank said. The woman scanned a list of names. She wrote a number on a slip of paper and handed it to them.
“You’ll be in cabin 407, on the mezzanine deck,” she said.
Frank looked puzzled. “Will someone be giving us our room keys later?”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary” the young woman said. “Everything on the ship is authorized by facial recognition. Just look straight ahead when you’re at your cabin door and it will automatically open. You won’t have to sign for anything, either. If you order a drink at the bar, for example, just look down at the little tray the bill is handed to you on and say, “I accept.” That’s all there is to it.”
“Well, how about that,” Frank said. “No place to hide on a ship like this, is there?”
The young woman laughed. “I guess not! Anyway, please take your first left up ahead and make yourselves comfortable in the welcome lounge. The orientation will begin in the theater next door in twenty minutes.”
They were welcomed at the door to the lounge by a steward holding a tray. “May I offer you a drink? The ones on the left are rum punch, those on the right are alcohol-free.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Frank’s father said, helping himself to one of the former. Frank did the same and followed his father inside, where they took a place against the wall to one side, studying the swelling crowd.
“Who are you looking for?” Frank asked.
“The plants,” his father said. “Once an FBI man, always an FBI man.”
“Come again? What do you mean by plants?”
“The government agents. Ours, and you can bet ones from China as well. And our folks will have done a better than usual job if the Russian’s and some others haven’t managed to get somebody on board, too.”
“But we sent out the invitations, and those were only to scientists and their family members.”
“Oh, sure – I’m looking mostly at the servers for plants from places like Russia. But I’m not taking all of those family members for granted. I doubt we have good intel on the spouses, and especially not of the significant others, of all the Chinese attendees. Or the Americans, for that matter.”
“I get the Russians,” Frank said. “But why would the Chinese send agents? They’ve already got a hundred and fifty scientists aboard who will hear all the good stuff firsthand.”
“Because the scientists are scientists, not agents. Sure, everybody’s supposed to be here to share. But there will be lots of good stuff the Americans won’t be sharing – especially the IT guys from the big high-tech companies. They will be talking at the bar, though, and taking notes on their laptops, and getting together for dinner. You can bet the Chinese will be trying to pick up everything possible. And so will we. Take a look at how intently that guy over there is listening to the Chinese guy talking to his wife. You can practically see him taking mental notes.”
“People will certainly talk shop at the bar,” Frank said, “But the corporate guys have spent their whole careers under non-disclosure agreements. I wouldn’t think they’d slip up much. And since there won’t be any ship to shore connectivity, there won’t be any emails to intercept.”
“Come on, now,” his father said. “You know better than that.”
“Well, I guess someone could ‘shoulder surf’ and watch someone enter their password after they turned their laptop on. Then they could bribe a crew member to let them into the laptop owner’s room at dinner time and put a wireless keystroke logging program on the laptop. After that, they could record anything the laptop owner typed for the rest of the trip, and then have it upload to a remote server the first time the laptop owner went online once they got back on shore. And it would keep reporting in every day after that.”
“Bingo. And that’s just for starters. They may searched guests bags for electronic goodies when they came aboard, but there are over three hundred guests, at least as many crew, more than fifty US government folks, and another twenty-five Chinese, British and French minders on board. I figure that’s good for at least fifty tons of food, linens, liquor, toiletries, paper products, fresh flowers for the table, and a whole lot more of just about anything imaginable being loaded even as we speak.
“All that stuff came from scores, if not hundreds, of different sources. They won’t be hand-searching, or even effectively scanning, every bit of that. Easy enough to get a nice little collection of tools and tricks stashed away in one of those crates. Hell, you could drop some gear in a Ziplock back, stuff it inside a frozen chicken, and bribe somebody on the kitchen staff to fetch it for you later.
“And you figure this is a brand-new crew, too. You told me the government hired a cruise ship company to manage the cruise, but you figure all their regular crews would already be assigned to other ships or on shore leave, so the company must have gone to the market to hire this crew from scratch. The staff on a normal cruise comes from forty or fifty different countries. Any one of those sailors, housekeepers, hospitality staff, spa workers, entertainers and so one – and I’ll bet you a whole lot more than one – could be working for the Russians, the Iranians, the North Koreans, you name it.”
“Well, yes,” Frank said. “But wouldn’t the US have done background checks?”
“Ha!” his father snorted. “On a housekeeper from the Philippines? It takes us six months to a year to run a security check even when the subject is American and it’s a high priority.
“If it was me running the show for the Russians, I’d have a few folks on the housekeeping staff making up the rooms, and someone else on the IT staff for sure. A brand-new boat like this will have cameras and sensors built into it all over the place. I’d want to be able to tap into those for sure.”
His father went back to sipping his drink and scanning the crowd.
“Have you spotted anyone else yet?” Frank asked.
“Let’s just say there’s a few folks I’ll be keeping an eye on,” his father replied.
Shrewd as Frank’s father might be, he had failed to identify either the senior CIA officer aboard or his Chinese counterpart, an agent from the Ministry of State Security, each of whom was in the room. John Dunlevy, the CIA officer, was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt, shorts, socks and sandals and chatting with several Americans across the room. Ming Wu, his Chinese counterpart, was sitting quietly on a couch, inconspicuously dressed and flipping through a cruise magazine when he was not glancing briefly around the room.
While neither knew the identity of the other, each assumed his existence. Part of the novel discussions leading up to the cruise had been intense negotiations over which non-computer engineering staff could attend, and what their roles would be. Of special concern on the part of the Chinese was who would have access to the ship’s internal information technology – IT- systems.
The eventual compromise was that a skilled IT officer from each agency would be permitted on board, each of whom would have full access to the sensor, microphone, facial recognition, and similar IT systems of the ship, as well as the ability to access the server logs in order to track who was making use of that data. Dedicated terminals installed in each of their cabins gave them direct access to every system on board. For passenger privacy reasons, only the chief information officer of the Argosy had equivalent access to the same systems.
At least, that was what all concerned believed. In fact, those with access numbered four rather than three because Turing had succeeded in penetrating the ship’s security defenses and installed a copy of itself on board. One of its first goals was to reduce by half the number of those with unfettered access to the ship’s IT systems.
Chapter 16
Bon Voyage!
A server was strolling around the lounge now, tapping up and down the notes of small chime she carried, signaling everyone to move from the lounge into the theater next door. When everyone was settled in, a stocky man in an army uniform took the stage and waited for conversation to die down. That must be General Hammond Wood, Frank thought, based on the gold star on his shirt collar. He was apparently the bureaucrat behind the enterprise, the one whose job it was to make sure the scientist and engineers had what they needed to do their job.
“Hello, and welcome to you all,” the general said. “I’m General Hammond Wood, and I’m truly honored that each of you who have agreed to be part of the Confucius Project has made time in your busy lives to be part of this important project. I’d like to especially welcome our other guests as well. We very much appreciate both the loan of your spouses and significant others, but also your willingness to join us on a cruise that lacks the usual shore stops in exotic locations.
“To compensate for that, and besides all the amenities you’d expect on a magnificent new cruise ship like this, we’ve laid on a first rate educational and entertainment program. Besides excellent music and theater every evening, you’ll be able to enjoy lectures on a wide variety of subjects from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon. The very talented professors providing these courses will be available to you during cocktail hours and will also join you at mealtimes. You’ll find full details and daily schedules in your cabins.
“Project members will also find meetings schedules in their cabins. As you’ll see from them, we’ll get started at 9:00 AM tomorrow morning. But for now, just enjoy yourselves. We’ll be setting sail at 5:30 this evening, so please be our guest outside on the Sunset Deck at seven at the back of the ship for sail away drinks.”
“Sounds like we’re not going to die of thirst this trip,” Frank’s father observed. “Want to check out our cabin? I’m trusting you were able to get a cabin with two singles?”
“Yup,” Frank said. “We’re all set.”
“Now,” the general continued, “I’d like to introduce you to the scientific director of this initiative.”
A tall, very thin man with chiseled features and close-cropped brown hair stepped on to the stage in the Argosy theater. Wearing rimless glasses and a half-smile, he scanned the crowd with obvious interest. So that’s the famous Dr. Jay Friedman, Frank said, recognizing him instantly. I wonder whether he’s as much of a charmer as everyone says he is?
“Hello, and welcome to you all,” Friedman said, sharing a shy smile that seemed to be directed individually at every person in the room. “I’m delighted to see so many colleagues aboard, as well as such a large number of other world-renowned experts whose reputations precede them. I look forward to getting to know and working with each of you as well.”
Frank decided the answer was yes. And in truth, Friedman did seem to have an exceptional presence, despite the fact that he spoke almost inaudibly and seemed incapable of holding still.
“I cannot impress upon you all the importance of the work we will do together on this voyage and those that follow. Truly, we stand at a rare moment in history where we have the power to shape the future for good or ill. Too often, we in the scientific community have failed to seize such a moment, and the dire consequences are well known.
“We need look no farther than the close of the second world war to see how the chance to avoid a nuclear arms race was realized and then allowed to slip away. At that unique moment in history, only a small number of brave scientists stood up, and the president of the United States stood down, making the politically safe decision and dooming the world to decades of fear and enormous expenditures of funds that could have been used instead to raise the standard of living of Americans and Soviets alike.
“This time, the president of the United States has taken the initiative to prevent a new arms race before it begins, and it is our opportunity – may I say, even our sacred duty – to help realize that goal. Will we unite and rise to that challenge? History will judge us very harshly indeed if we do not.
“As I look out upon you all, I know the answer to my question is a resounding yes! I look forward with pride and anticipation to working with you all in this great pursuit.”
Friedman gave another shy, nervous smile as he left the stage. Frank and his father scanned the audience to see how his call to arms had been received. Many were applauding enthusiastically. Others, mostly Chinese, were clapping politely, many looking sidelong around the room, wondering how they would be expected to respond to such a plea and what might be the consequences of guessing incorrectly.
“Well, that Dr. Friedman’s the real deal, isn’t he?” Frank’s father said, after they left the theater. “I reckon if there’s someone who can herd this bunch of cats likely he’s it.”
“I expect so,” Frank said. “He has a reputation as one of the great scientists of his time. Not just as demonstrated by his own research, but through his ability to call out the best in other highly talented people. He’s never won a Nobel prize himself, but many of his PhD students are believed to be on the road to receive one. Two already have.”
His father looked at his watch. “Been a long day, don’t you think? I didn’t get much sleep on the plane, so how about dinner right after we leave port?”
“Makes sense to me,” Frank agreed. “Let’s find our cabin.”
Their accommodations more then met expectations. “Whoa!” Frank Sr. said. “Now this is posh – sleeping area, sitting area, balcony, wet bar and everything.” There bags were waiting for them as promised, as were the promised folders on the desk. Frank Sr. picked an apple out of the welcome fruit basket and plopped down on the couch with his folder.
“So – let’s see what I’m going to do while you’re hard at work saving the human race.” He started flipping through the pages and then looked up. “Looks like we’ve got a virtual purser, too,” he said. “According to what I’m reading here, it’s based on a new, advanced AI conversation algorithm. How appropriate! Let’s give it a try. Hello, James!”
A plummy voice with an English accent emanated from the wall. “Greetings!” it said. “And welcome aboard the Argosy! How can I be of service?”
“Oh, nothing, I guess. Just getting acquainted.” His father waited expectantly. After a pause, the voice said, “Welcome to the Argosy!” again.
“Not that intelligent, I guess,” Frank Senior said.
“I beg your pardon?” the voice replied.
“Oops!” Frank Senior replied. “Maybe I got that wrong. My apologies! Anyway, that’s all for now.”
“Indeed!” the voice huffed.
“I don’t know about you,” Frank senior said to his son, “but you want to talk any, I’d suggest the balcony.”
Frank picked up his own folder and joined him there. “So, let’s see,” Frank Sr. said. “What have I got to look forward to? Hmm. Quite a variety. Seems to be a deliberate ‘East meets West’ theme. Exercise classes with Pilates and Tai Chi – think I’ll take a pass on both of those. Lectures on Western and Eastern art, Capitalist and Communist Economics, American and Chinese Cinema. Quite a lot, actually.”
Frank’s own folder was less eclectic and much thicker, with reams of background reading on LAWs, the other participants, and the discussion leaders. It looked like he had some studying up to do.
“Say,” his father said, “What was the name of that French professor you were keeping company with a while back?”
“Simone Falconet,” Frank said. “Why?”
“Looks like she’s one of the lecturers. How about that?”
“What?” Frank said. “Simone is on board? Are you sure?”
“Well, I can’t imagine it’s a very common name. Take a look – they’ve got a headshot of every lecturer.”
Frank took the folder he was handed. “Yes, that’s her.”
“You don’t look all that pleased. Did things not end well?”
“No – no, I don’t think so. They just kind of petered out after she returned to France. I’ve never been very good at long distance relationships.” Or nearby ones, either, he reflected. Was this going to be awkward?
“Well, maybe you’ll be having a more interesting cruise than I will,” his father said. “By definition, just about everybody who isn’t in the Big Boy meetings is already taken. “Course,” he mused, “that’s likely not so for the lecturers.” He flipped through the pages. “Nope. Looks like your Simone is the only one that would catch my eye. She’s one handsome woman, isn’t she?”
She was indeed, Frank recalled. He hadn’t been able to figure out what she saw in him, beyond the stressful circumstances that had brought them together. He hadn’t minded the fact that a lot of male heads turned when he escorted Simone into a restaurant.
The deep sound of the ship’s horn interrupted his thoughts. Walking up to the sliding doors leading to the balcony, he noticed that tugs had appeared at each end of the ship. Water was roiling around their sterns as they positioned themselves to assist in the Argosy’s departure. From the hallway, they heard a new voice over the PA system.
“This is your captain, and I’d like to welcome you aboard. Please feel free to join your fellow passengers and hosts on the Sunset Deck at the stern as we make our departure.”
“I wouldn’t mind watching that,” Frank’s father said. “You want to join me?”
“Sure,” Frank said. Like his father, he’d never been on a sizable ship before, and was curious about its operations.
A few minutes later they walked out onto a deck with a fine view of the harbor and a wide scattering of passengers and waiters, the latter distributing drinks and appetizers. Frank followed his father to the shore side of the ship.
“Pretty fancy piece of equipment, this Argosy,” his father observed as hidden winches reeled in the shorelines after they were lifted off the bollards on the wharf and thrown into the water. “Take a look down at the bow and the stern – see all that angry water? Those are thrusters pushing the ship away from the wharf. I bet she doesn’t need those tugs at all.”
The bow thruster was obviously pushing harder, as the water was widening more quickly at that end of the ship. By the time the stern was a dozen feet from the pier, the ship was already moving forward and a jazz combo was launching into its first number near the railing.
“Take the A Train,” his father noted. “Not quite on point, but it’ll do.”
“It will indeed,” Frank said. “I don’t know what the rest of the trip will be like, but this is pretty cool – it’s even a beautiful day.”
“For the time being,” his father said. “I don’t love those clouds to the West. Looks like we might have some weather ahead of us. Should make for a good sunset, though.”
The ship was picking up speed now, and true to his father’s prediction, the tugs kept their distance, finally peeling away when the Argosy entered the Solent, the broad channel between England and the Isle of Wight that had seen so many thousands of ships depart in before in times of peace and war.
“Did your parents ever talk about leaving the old world?” Frank said. “They must have come over by ship.”
“Not much. Arriving in Manhattan and being shunted into Ellis Island, sure. Not so much about the departure, though. I’m sure no one was handing them champagne and hors-d’oeuvres.:
They watched and chatted as the shore eased by on either side and the setting sun played hide and seek with clouds that gradually passed from orange to red. It was growing dark when his father interrupted himself. “Hey, he said, “I think we’re about to have company.”
Frank turned to where his was looking, and there, turning away from a conversation in which she had been engaged was Simone, as statuesque and striking as ever. Frank felt a sudden panic. How should he greet her? It had taken him forever to get even mildly comfortable with the kiss on both cheeks the French preferred, and he was way out of practice now. And besides – they hadn’t been in touch for close to two years. Where had they left things in Simone’s mind?
But Simone, as always, was way ahead of him. She beamed as she strode towards them, turning a few heads, as usual, in the process. When she reached them, she took both of Frank’s hands in hers. “So good to see you, Frank,” she said. “Are you well, yes?”
Frank relaxed, with relief. “Very well, thanks. I hope you are, too.”
“Yes, indeed. But forgive me for interrupting. I did not mean to be rude.”
“Not at all – please meet my father – Dad, this is Simone Falconet.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Frank Sr. said. “Frank’s told me a lot about you.”
“And about you as well,” Simone said. I am very pleased to meet you. I don’t recall Frank saying that you were a computer scientist, though.”
“And so he shouldn’t. I’ve had a lot of experience with technology out in the field, as one might say, but I’m just a guest on this cruise. Looking forward to your lectures, too.”
“That is excellent. I will look forward to a friendly face in the audience. I have no idea how many of the Chinese passengers speak good English, and how many of the Americans will actually be interested in what I have to say.”
“How did you come to be aboard?” Frank asked.
“Ah! On a whim, I suppose you could say. The term was ending at the university, and I received a call from the organizer. I was, how you say, a bit at loose ends and the timing was good, so I said to myself, ‘why not?’”
Frank wondered what “a bit at loose ends” meant, but just then the ship gave a slight lurch, and they all looked out over the rail.
“Looks like we just came out of the lee of the Isle of Wight,” Frank Sr. said. “There’s nothing between us and North America now but wind and waves.” They each grabbed the rail as an even larger swell caught the ship, causing the bow to rise and then fall once again.
The sky was dark in every direction but the West now, where a blood red sun split the mountainous clouds like the malevolent eye of Sauron. Another big swell hit the ship, and most of the passengers on the Compass Deck began zig-zagging their way towards the doors that led back into the ship.
“Looks like the party’s over,” Frank’s father said. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“I’m afraid I’m – what is the phrase – ‘spoken for’ already. Each evening I am assigned to a different table in the dining room. But I am free to have breakfast and lunch as I please. So, let us meet again soon, yes?” This time, she did kiss Frank on both cheeks, and his father as well.
“That’s one fine lady there,” Frank’s father said, watching as she walked away. “Can’t understand why you’d let one like that get away.”
Author’s Notes: Time for a transition now, with a new backdrop and new characters to be introduced. We also move now onto a more dynamic stage, where wind, waves and weather can both make life more interesting, but figure into the plot and also add to senses of foreboding, tension and elation, as the plot demands at any turn.
We also see the return of two old friends – Frank’s father, and Simone, the second strong female character (third, if you count Frank’s daughter, Marla) in The Lafayette Campaign. I haven’t written the end of the book yet, so it’s possible that she may get cut, but the thought here is that when Turing really goes into gear we’ll want to have a small group of people who we follow through to the resolution, each playing a role in making things seem interesting in real. At the moment, my thoughts are that the group will include Frank, Frank’s father, Simone, the rather arrogant captain of the ship, the ships IT director, and (likely) General Wood and Dr. Friedman.
About those names: you’ve probably figured out that “Wood” is the analog of Groves, but how did we get from Leslie to Hammond? To figure that out, you have to be a bit of a music, and best of a jazz, fan. Then “Leslie” might make you think of the awesome, massive Leslie amplified speakers that used to dominate stages back in the ’70s and ’80s. They had spinning horn speakers in addition to the more traditional elements that spun up and wailed as the music demanded. Invariably, you found them flanking a Hammond B3 organ, and hence the match that transitions General Leslie Grove to General Hammond Wood. Whether you know it or not, you’ve been hearing a Hammond B3 organ your whole life in some of your favorite songs over the decades. I wrote an appreciation of the Hammond B3/Leslie speaker combo back in 2005 that you can find here.
The derivation of Jay Friedman is more pedestrian. Robert Oppenheimer’s full name was J. Robert Oppenheimer. He was named for his father, Julius (but never used his first name). His mother’s name was Ella Friedman, and hence we end up with Jay Friedman.
Next week: Turing strikes again, Frank gets to work, and Frank Sr. and Simone take a tour. Continue reading here
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