While the tools were typically rudimentary and clothing traditional, the people were anything but. There were Africans, Hispanics, Caucasians, Arabs. Of the few Asians visible, none was Korean, instead having genetic origins in China, Laos, and Japan. Both men and women were represented in equal numbers and all were in their mid-twenties.

Kyong chatted nervously as they passed, ignoring the farmers who had stopped to stare at the strangers approaching their carefully isolated village.

The buildings were typical in design, with simple whitewashed walls and peaked roofs. What made them unique was their large size. There were no families here, only a group of guardians and teachers that had raised the children from infancy according to a rigid protocol Eichmann had designed. Housing was communal with people randomly assigned and reorganized at regular intervals to prevent the formation of overly strong relationships. Interactions with authority figures were limited to avoid favoritism. And outside influences were non-existent. A psychological experiment done with a level of control that the rest of the world’s scientists could only dream of.

They entered a building that looked like all the others but was actually a school, and Eichmann followed the hallway toward voices at its end. His boots clacked loudly against the bare floorboards and the moldy scent of Asian wood filled his nostrils. He wanted to remember it all. Every detail.

The girl twisted in her chair when he entered, her wide, pale face registering surprise and terror at the intrusion of an unfamiliar player into her meticulously designed universe.

While it was unlikely that she would remember, she had seen him during his last visit to the village. It was hard to believe that had been seventeen years ago.

The man sitting in front of her said something in a stern voice and she refocused on him as he began reading from a paper on the desk between them.

Despite the fact that she was a blond-haired Caucasian taken as an infant from her home in Romania, the oral examination was being conducted in Korean—the only language she spoke. In fact, the only one she knew existed.

The physical tests, blood workups, MRIs, and CAT scans had already been completed and the data transmitted to Eichmann. This intelligence test and the personality tests to come were the final piece of a puzzle so complex, he wasn’t sure he would ever fully understand all its facets.

He settled onto an empty bench, watching the desperate concentration on her face as the test conductor clicked a stopwatch and she began scribbling in the open notebook in front of her.

No reward had been offered to her for excelling on the test, only the promise of severe punishment for failing. The stick without a carrot wasn’t an ideal motivator but the incredibly tight controls on the experiment restricted him in this area. Rewards were difficult to provide to people who had no knowledge at all of the outside world. She had no comprehension of, and thus no aspiration to, money or possessions or social status. Food was already adequate, as was housing. Medical care was provided in sufficient quantities to ensure that his carefully designed data set did not shrink unduly over the years.