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Authors: Gordon R. Dickson

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BOOK: The Forever Man
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Mollen stopped, and looked at Mary again. She took over the conversation, briskly. “Possibly they had him on show there, in a sense. At any rate, we finally got him to reminisce about it, but what we could learn was limited. The trouble is, as you know, the part of his mind that came back isn't capable of direct communication. The best we can do is stimulate him to talk out loud to himself. So the most we achieved that way was to prod his memory about this, and listen while he relived it, in his own mind.”

“But that could be quite a bit,” said Jim.

“It was. But with parts missing. Tantalizing parts,” Mary said.

The arch of her eyebrows straightened out as the inner ends of them came together in a small frown when she concentrated. Jim had had a third grade teacher who had done the same thing.

“He was talking to himself, so he only referred to things that happened. He didn't describe them or spell them out in any way. We can be fairly sure that for a while at least, he was essentially a Laagi prisoner. They'd be as fascinated as we are with the question of how a ship could absorb the mind of its pilot. They're probably the ones who removed his dead body for examination. Which means that now, if they didn't before, they're one up on us by knowing what we're like physically; and, since Laagi ships always destroy themselves if it looks like they're going to be captured, we still don't have any idea of their physical make-up.”

“But you said he got away from them,” prodded Jim, more interested in what Raoul had done than in what the Laagi might have found out about him.

“Well, probably,” said Mary, “they didn't realize he could move the ship with his mind alone—and that's something else we also haven't yet found out; how he could do that. But his engines had almost certainly been destroyed before the Laagi got him; and so it undoubtedly took them by surprise when he suddenly simply decided to go home, lifted off from wherever he was, and headed back.”

Jim shook his head.

“This…” he began and ran out of words. “How does this all tie in with me?”

“As I say,” said Mary, “we've found a way to stimulate his memory…”

She touched one of the keys on her desk top console and they heard sounds of bird songs, leaves rustling in the wind, branches creaking against each other and, under all, the chuckling of running water.

“What we did was record noises from up around the part of Canada where he grew up as a boy,” she said. “It was a sort of sonic, or if you like the word better, electronic way of medicating him, so he'd tell us what he remembered. From what we heard, we isolated more and more sound-cues until at last we were able to trigger off memories like the one that we think refers to his being in Laagi hands.”

Jim nodded, still unsure about what this might have to do with him.

“We'll be using a developed version of the same techniques to put your mind as much in touch with his as possible,” Mary went on.

“We want you to be able to think like Penard, think as if you were him,” said Mollen.

“At the same time,” said Mary, “we're going to use a variant of the same techniques to put your mind and mine as much in touch as possible. Now, with living human bodies like the two of us have, we can be given chemical medication by already established means—”

She broke off, pressed a button of her desk console and spoke into the communications grill beside the console.

“Ola,” she said, “has Dr. Neiss come in yet?”

The voice of the white-haired lady said something unintelligible from the grille.

“Dr. Neiss?” said Mary sharply. “He's not there yet?”

More unintelligible response from the grille.

“Well, call me when Dr. Neiss gets here.” Once more the emphasis on the title of “doctor” could be heard in Mary's voice. “Thanks, Ola. Yes. No, that's all right. Just remember to announce him as I said.”

She looked from the grille back at Jim and Mollen.

“Dr. Neiss is someone you'll meet in a moment, Jim. He'll be taking care of you from now on. You go to him for any thing medical—even if it's just a finger you cut on a piece of paper opening an envelope.”

“You hear that, Jim?” said Mollen. “That's an order. Come to think of it, you'd better remember that anything Mary tells you to do from now on has the effect of a military order from me.”

“Yes sir,” said Jim. “But—”

He broke off, went back and tried again.

“Forgive me,” he said to Mary, “but I don't understand why you and I need to have our minds put together, or however you say it?”

“Simply so I can monitor your contact with Penard as fully as possible—” She broke off as the speaker grille on her console made noises again.

“Yes?” Mary said. “Well, send him in, then.”

The door from the outer office opened and a short, thin man in his late twenties or early thirties, with straight black hair and a sharp face, walked into the office. He leaned a little forward with his upper body as he walked, as if he would pugnaciously make the most of his height.

“This is Dr. Amos Neiss,” said Mary. Jim got to his feet, uncertain as to how he should greet the newcomer. Neiss came up to him and they shook hands. Neiss's grip was firm and energetic to the point of nervousness, like the rest of his appearance.

“So you're Jim Wander,” Neiss said. His voice had a slight upper East Coast edge to it.

“That's right,” said Jim.

They sat down, Neiss in the chair at Jim's right.

“I take it we're ready to go, then?” Neiss asked Mary.

“Ready, yes,” said Mary. “That doesn't mean we can start in the next five minutes—”

The speaker grille interrupted her again.

“Oh yes,” said Mary to it. “I forgot to tell you I'd asked him to come in this morning, too. Send him in.”

The door opened once more. This time the man that came in was large-framed and a little overweight, even for his size. His face was square and blunt-nosed, under graying brown hair.

“Colin, take a seat, will you?” Mary said, with more warmth in her voice than when she had introduced Neiss. “This is Jim Wander. Jim, this is Colin Eastoi. He'll be sitting at my desk here while I'm spending time working with you and the doctor.”

Colin walked heavily over to shake hands with Jim and take the chair on Jim's other side.

“So,” he said. He had an unexpected bass voice that seemed at odds with his easy-going face. “We're all ready to start?”

“That's what Amos was just asking,” answered Mary. “So I'm glad you're here. How soon can you pick up the reins for me?”

“Right this moment, if you want,” said Colin. “My department's been running itself for the past few weeks. Oh, you'll have to bring me up-to-date on the last twenty-four hours or so, I suppose, if there's things there I've got a need to know.”

“We can do that the rest of today,” said Mary. “Tomorrow—”

She switched her gaze to Amos Neiss.

“—we'll begin the lab work, Jim and I, with you,” she said.

“I could make some preliminary tests on Colonel Wander today,” said Neiss. “That way—”

“No, I don't think so,” said Mary. “He's a human being and he needs a little time, just like the rest of us, to make the transition. What you can do is have lunch with him and lay out our work schedule for him, so if he has any suggestions, he can make them. Jim, you've got to give this work your wholehearted efforts. So if there's something about what Amos has in mind you don't like, tell us; and if it's adjustable, we'll adjust it. You remember that, Amos—we tailor around Jim, not around me, let alone around you and your staff.”

“Whatever you say,” said Amos.

Jim was watching the other man out of the corner of his eyes. Amos Neiss's general appearance and the tone of his voice did not promise as easy an agreement as his words did.

“Then,” said Mary, she looked at Mollen, “as far as I'm concerned, we can break up this meeting. General?”

“Fine, far as I'm concerned,” Mollen grunted, getting to his feet. He was looking more tired than Jim had ever seen him look, and older.

So Jim spent the morning happily running and working out, topping it all off with a game of handball. Then, feeling full of glowing good health, he went off to the Club to lunch with Amos Neiss.

He was more than a little curious about the man, under whose auspices, apparently, both he and Mary were to be put through a training period. But when he actually came to the lunch he found Amos Neiss as sharp-faced as ever and concerned with talking about only one topic—the things he would require of Jim.

“You've got it all straight, then?” said Neiss after what amounted to a monologue, and which had lasted through the main course of the meal to the point where they had just ordered dessert.

“Right. There's only one problem,” Jim said. “You'll have to make some time for me each day, for exercising.”

“Exercising? Well,” said Neiss, “well, I suppose. We could give you an hour before we begin in the morning.”

“I'll need more like three hours,” Jim said. He knew a bargainer when he met one.

“We can't possibly let you play for that much time,” said Neiss. “You don't understand how crucial these tests and routines are. Oh, by the way, speaking of tests, I talked to Mary this morning after you left. You can come in after we leave here and we can use this afternoon to get some of the tests done for your preliminary profile.—"

“Oh? Fine,” said Jim. “Would you excuse me for a minute? I just remembered I forgot to tell the switchboard operator at the front desk of the Club that I'd be here in the dining room. I'm expecting a call. It may have come, and there may be a message for me there. Be right back.”

He got up and vanished before Neiss could object. Outside the dining room, however, he headed for a row of phones, and put through a call to Mary's office.

“I'm sorry, Colonel, she's at lunch,” said the voice of the white-haired lady.

“Look,” said Jim, “just in case she's there and just not taking calls, will you tell her it's vital I speak to her now? This is Jim Wander. She knows I wouldn't call like this without good reason.”

“Well… just a minute…”

Silence took over at the far end of the line. The screen that had lit up to show the white-haired lady went suddenly back to a silvery-gray opaqueness. Jim waited.

Abruptly the screen cleared to show the face of Mary.

“What is it, Jim?” She sounded annoyed.

“Amos Neiss just told me that you'd agreed with him he could start making some tests on me this afternoon. I just thought I'd check and make sure you actually did agree. He was careful not to say specifically that he'd got your permission.”

“Oh, he told you that, did he? Damn him!” said Mary. “This is one thing he's going to get straight right from the beginning. Where are you now?”

“Still at lunch in the Officers' Club. At the phones. I left him at the table and told him I had to go look for a message for me at the front desk.”

“Good. When you get back to the table, tell Amos they also told you there was a message for him to call me.”

“…I'll do that.”

“Fine. And do what you want this afternoon. That's from me!”

“Thanks,” said Jim.

Mary broke the connection and he went back to Neiss.

“Oh, by the way,” he said, sitting down. “There was a message there for you, too. You're to call Mary at the lab, immediately.”

“Oh my God!” said Neiss, jumping to his feet. “Something wrong with the equipment? Did she say?”

“I don't know,” said Jim innocently. “There was just the message to call her.”

Neiss went out of the dining room literally at a run. When he returned he was not exactly scowling, but he was not happy.

“It looks like we'll have to pat off those tests on you this afternoon after all,” he said abruptly, sitting down again.

“Ah,” said Jim.

Amos looked at him. It was not a friendly look, but the unfriendliness was impersonal, the way a bear stung by a deer fly will turn and clout the bear eating blueberries next to him.

They began in earnest the next day. Apparently, Neiss needed, or at least wanted, a complete physical report made on Jim by his own staff. He was not interested when Jim volunteered the information, as he did once, that most of these scans and examination of physical samples from him merely duplicated what the Medical Section of the Base kept on all Frontier pilots, active or inactive. The first few days were given completely over to simply testing Jim. If they tested Mary equally, they did it somewhere else and with a different team. Neiss's staff seemed fully occupied with Jim.

But once the testing was over, they got down to work. To Jim's surprise, this turned out to be the same old business of rehearsing what had been said by Penard, Mary and himself on the mission to convoy Penard home. Only this time, when Jim spoke his own words as they had been taped, Mary was there and also spoke hers. The only voice that was not live was that of Raoul.

Jim had no great objection to this, now that he was close to being reunited with
AndFriend
. But he did object—without success—when Amos began a different stage of work in which he and his staff occupied themselves with Jim alone, and used drugs. They were, apparently, now that they had finished building a physical profile of him, engaged in building a mental one.

This consisted of electrically probing his brain cells for reflexes and memories, and of searching his unconscious, particularly his dream patterns. Jim found himself hating the thought that someone like Amos had access to his mind and could see the evidence of his love for
AndFriend
and space. Also, the business of using the drugs was itself unpleasant. Jim did not like pills, and being under their influence. He liked injectable chemicals even less; and many of the unnamed substances Amos's staff put into his bloodstream or flesh had side effects that clouded his mind or disorganized his body for up to twenty-four hours—and on rare occasions, even longer.

BOOK: The Forever Man
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