"Me?" asked the foremost neurosurgeon in the world.

"Yes," said Remo, "I'm looking for Brewster Forum."

"Ah, yes. Of course. Why else would you be here? Yes. Natural. Very natural."

"Is this Brewster Forum?

"Yes. Did you miss the signs?"

"No."

"Then what would lead you to believe this is not Brewster Forum?"

"Well, I expected some fences or something."

"Whatever for?"

Remo could not answer that question. What was he to say? Because you're doing something so top secret that you are going to die before your country will let your work go to anyone else?"

Not even a fence. What was probably the highest priority secret project in the nation and not even a fence.

"Well, to keep people out," Remo answered.

"Out of what?," pleasantly asked the son of a bitch who liked to screw toy giraffes.

"Out of this place," said Remo, barely pleasant.

"Why would we want to keep anyone out?"

"I don't know," Remo had to say.

"Then why should we have a fence?"

Remo had to shrug.

"That's an interesting question you asked, son," said Doctor Schulter. "Why does man continuously seek to set boundaries? Is it to keep people out or just to identify who should be kept out?"

In a vein of nastiness which Remo knew he should not allow himself, he snarled. "The latter, of course. It's obvious to anyone who plants tomatoes." And he drove off, leaving the man to puzzle, with the pipe now working furiously in his mouth.

Remo drove back to the cluster of cottages, parking near a fieldstone walk that led to a larger white building with green shutters, shaded by large oaks. The newness of the buildings indicated they had been built for proximity to the towering trees.