Voyage to Alpha Centauri: A Novel (25 page)

“I repeat, who is Dwayne?” he said in a quiet voice.

“You know who Dwayne is”, I countered. “You know his real name, and you know he works—or worked—in Maintenance.”

“I know that you made an inquiry to that department eight days ago, asking for someone with that name.”

“And how would you know this, if you aren’t keeping everything under surveillance?”

“A report from the department crossed my desk, as it does every month, listing all inquiries and requests for nonscheduled services. It’s a routine
pro forma
document for the archives.”

“If my inquiry was so
pro forma
, why have you taken such pains to bring me here for a little chat about it?”

“Because I am concerned about you.”

“Oh, really?”

I knew he was lying. He was only interested in ferreting information out of me, anything that would tell him how much we knew. His approach also revealed that he was determined to maintain the veneer, and was not yet ready to use heavy muscle.

“Dr. Hoyos, ever since the night you gave your talk, a talk based on completely unfounded suspicions, I have been concerned about you.”

Ah, warm-hearted elf that he is, he
cared
about me. It suddenly struck me as so absurd that I laughed.

He tilted his head a little and looked even more concerned. “This has been a long flight”, he went on. “Close confinement has its psychological effects.”

“I find there’s plenty of elbow room.”

“Does it seem that way to you? Even so, there is always the subconscious dynamic, the accumulation of unacknowledged stress. And we know what happens to us when that occurs.”

“Do we? Well, I don’t know. Tell me what happens.”

“The human mind projects its undeclared fears onto quite ordinary situations. Shadows become dangerous presences, whispered conversations become conspiracies against you, the normal comings and goings in people’s lives begin to look like tragic plays.”

“Yes, it’s a danger in human psychology”, I nodded.

“I’m glad you see it. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to talk with one of our staff psychiatrists. Sometimes a person can sort things out for himself, but with a professional to guide the process, a sense of balance can be restored more easily.”

“A sense of equilibrium”, I murmured in apparent agreement.

He smiled understandingly. “We all have our down moments. Even the gifted and famous.” He smiled again. “Even Nobel prize winners.”

“Where is David Ayne?” I said.

His face froze, then on cue, his brow and mouth furrowed into an expression of perplexity.

“Who?”

“You know who I mean. What have you done with him?”

He shook his head in perfect bafflement. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean. I haven’t done anything to anyone.”

“Where is he? Do you have him locked up somewhere on the ship? You’ve got him isolated somehow, against his will, I’m sure.”

“We’ve locked up no one. And who is David Ayne? There’s no one by that name on the
Kosmos
.”

“Oh? Have you memorized the personnel list?”

“In preparation for our meeting, I searched through the ship’s entire personnel records for anyone named Dwayne, because that is the name you inquired about with the maintenance department.”

“I just asked you about David Ayne, and you instantly told me he wasn’t real.”

“I have a comprehensive knowledge of the list.”

“You have him in a holding tank somewhere.”

“That is simply untrue”, he replied in a reasonable tone. “It’s your inflamed imagination getting out of control again.”

“Elf, it is simply a fact.”

He did something with his lips, a half-smile tainted with the suggestion of a disgusted smirk. It was a subtle expression that lent itself to various interpretations. To the uninformed observer, Elf might have been no more than a professional caregiver momentarily wearied by the pathetic convictions of an irrational patient.

“Elf, that is a sneer on your face. You should see yourself at this moment. A sneer is contempt. It’s an indelible sign of loss of objectivity. It is very, very unscientific. And your dissembling really worries me.”

“It’s you who should be worried”, he muttered.

“Really? And what are you going to do to me? Make me walk home?”

His eyes grew colder as he prepared a retort.

“Elf, surely you know the dangers of projection and transference. Get a grip on yourself, or you’ll become a victim of your own fixation. You wouldn’t want to become dysfunctional, would you?”

He snorted, and still he said nothing. He rocked a little on his creaking chair, lips tight, one hand fisted on the desktop, the other out of sight on his lap.

“And while we’re discussing the unreality of David W. Ayne, can you tell me why all references to his name are being systematically removed from the main computer? Of course, he’s already been deleted from the private
max
es.”

Now he jerked forward, pointed his index finger at me, and opened his mouth to say something. “Listen to me, you—”

I cut him off. Switching to my quiet but authoritative tone (one rarely used in my life), I said, “That is an aggressive gesture. I believe that both of us are committed to the deaggressivization of mankind, aren’t we? So I suggest you put your finger back where it belongs, and while you’re at it, wipe the rage off your face.”

He flushed beet red and rose from his chair, his impressive chin jutting forward.

“Ah, primitive threat-gestures”, I smiled. “Don’t shake your horns at me, Elf.”

“Get out of my office”, he seethed through clenched teeth.

Day 2282
:

The day following my interview with Elf, I received a message delivered by hand from the Department of Medicine, signed by the director of DM himself, inviting me to a “consultation”. By which he meant, as it turned out, a series of psychological tests, as well as some tests of body chemistry—including brain chemistry. I agreed to do them all, since while it’s true that I feel generally low, and sometimes at night I’m agitated and sleepless, this is the result of natural worry over a missing person. I think I am relatively sane. There’s sadness but no depression. I decided it would be good for DSI to know this, since doubtless DSI will be receiving copies of the reports from DM.

I still haven’t seen any test results. Maybe no news is good news.

Day 2300
:

Three weeks have gone by since my nasty interview with Elf. Periodic checking of the main computer now confirms that all references to David have been deleted. Of course, immense as it is, it is not connected to Earth’s databases, as far as I know, so the original sites may still be intact somewhere back home. For the time being, however, David does not exist. I made other searches into the sites of institutions where he had studied or worked. Officially, he was never there.

I hope they let him out on AC-A-7. It would be too cruel to bring him all that way and not let him see it. Perhaps he’s being held in some security suite and allowed to watch films, maybe even the public visual presentations of the ship’s progress through the heavens.

Still no word from DM about my medical test results.

Day 2307
:

Transcript of my lapel button recording: The speakers are me and Dr. Arthur (I’m not sure if this is his first or last name), a senior physician in the medical department.

Arthur
: Thank you for coming in, Dr. Hoyos. We have the results from all your tests, and I wanted to discuss them with you.

Hoyos
: Excellent. I’ve been wondering about them.

Arthur
: We did a comprehensive battery of tests, as you know. Your profile is giving us some readings that concern us.

Hoyos
: Biological or psychological?

Arthur
: Frankly, both. They’re always interconnected, of course.

Hoyos
: Of course.

Arthur
: The results indicate CDS, clinical depression syndrome, as well as—

Hoyos
: I don’t feel in any way depressed. Sad now and then, but not depressed.

Arthur
: Depression is nothing to be ashamed of. It strikes everyone at one time or another, usually in high-stress situations.

Hoyos
: That’s true. However, I don’t feel depressed.

Arthur
: It may be that you’ve put another name to it. What I would like to suggest is that you try some medication that we’ll prescribe. It will ease the symptoms.

Hoyos
: That’s kind of you. However, I don’t seem to have any symptoms.

Arthur
: Dr. Hoyos, if I may, I think you do have significant symptoms. There are irregularities in your brain waves as well. The scan shows no abnormal growths, thankfully, so we can rule out tumors as the cause. This indicates that there are other causes.

Hoyos
: Such as?

Arthur
: Intense emotional conflict, with resulting alteration of brain chemistry and subsequent negative effects in thinking patterns.

Hoyos
: What kind of effects?

Arthur
: You may be experiencing painful cyclical thinking, perhaps obsessional thoughts.

Hoyos
: Paranoid feelings?

Arthur
: That would also be fairly typical.

Hoyos
: Typical of. . .?

Arthur
: Why don’t you think it over for a day or so. Then you can get back to me with your decision.

Hoyos
: That seems fair enough.

Day 2309
:

Digital button recording:

Arthur
: Good to see you, Dr. Hoyos. Thanks for coming in.

Hoyos
: Good to see you too, Doctor.

Arthur
: So, how have you been feeling?

Hoyos
: Wonderful, actually. I’ve taken up swimming again, resumed my daily laps in the pool. I’m also studying languages with a friend.

Arthur
: Excellent.

Hoyos
: I just thought I’d drop by to give you my decision about the medication.

Arthur
: Uh-huh.

Hoyos
: I don’t need it.

[Rustling of papers, protracted silence]

Hoyos
: Well, thanks for your good efforts, Doctor. I’ll be going now.

Arthur
: Dr. Hoyos, uh, it’s not as simple as that. You see, the medical team has made another thorough study of all your results, and there is consensus that these medications would help you.

Hoyos
: But I don’t need any help.

Arthur
: Yes, I’m sure you feel that way. A sense of, well, denial, is usually part of the problem.

Hoyos
: You believe I’m in denial?

Arthur
: I regret to say, I do.

Hoyos
: Well, what can I reply to that.

Arthur
: I’m sorry. I know this is difficult for you.

Hoyos
: I think it’s more difficult for you. Thank you again, and good-bye.

Arthur
: Dr. Hoyos, I had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. [More rustling of papers, more protracted silence.] I really regret it, sir, but the medical oversight committee has mandated the medication. It’s just one small tablet per day. It wouldn’t impede your activities in any way. In fact, it would help you feel more positive about life.

Hoyos
: You’re saying I have to take it.

Arthur
: Um . . . yes.

Hoyos
: What would happen if I refuse to take the pills?

Arthur
: Unfortunately, you would be compelled to take them.

Hoyos
: By force?

[In reply to my question, he nodded and dropped his eyes. There was another strained silence during which Dr. Arthur appeared to be greatly embarrassed. He hated what he was doing. Somehow he was justifying it to himself, possibly for humanitarian reasons or for the sake of community well-being, or maybe he was merely joining that long line of folks in the historical tradition of “just obeying orders”. If I stood firm and refused to take the medication, what then? I had a flash preview of myself being immobilized by medical orderlies while a pill was crammed down my throat, or a syringe pumped equilibrium drugs into my veins. I saw myself struggling to stop them. I saw report after report being written up about my irrational behavior, my “episodes” of violent resistance, and duly entered into the archives. I saw myself confined to a ward under sedation, possibly under restraints. I saw the scheming mind who was behind the whole thing, and I saw what I must do.]

Hoyos
: Perhaps you’re right. I should try some medication. Maybe it will help me.

Arthur
: Thank you, Dr. Hoyos, thank you.

Hoyos
: I guess I really haven’t been quite myself lately. Sometimes I imagine things, get upset about it, and then . . .

Arthur
: It can be so disturbing, can’t it? I know how you feel. But I guarantee you’ll begin to feel better within days.

Hoyos
: That’s a relief, Doctor. Thanks. I guess I have been in denial . . . a little.

[The poor man smiled and nodded with relief.]

Arthur
: You can drop by here every morning and take your pill. The committee mandate says it shouldn’t be patient-dispensed. I’ve e
-max
ed a prescription to the pharmacy, and it’ll be here later today. You can begin treatment tomorrow morning.

Hoyos
: I understand. In my frame of mind, I might forget to take it myself.

Arthur
: Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.

Hoyos
: Thanks.

[He stood up. I stood up. We shook hands.]

Hoyos
: Uh, Doctor, my bad leg has been giving me a lot of problems lately. You wouldn’t be able to prescribe something for the pain, would you? Getting down here to deck D from my room cost me quite an effort.