by Robin Cook
“What a pain!” Kim exclaimed as she carried the two containers back to where they normally stood next to the house. Looking at them more closely, she realized that she’d have to replace them since their covers would no longer be secure.
Kim rescued Sheba just before she was about to take off into the woods, and carried her back into the house. Remembering that the police had asked to be called if she had any trouble, Kim called the station. To her surprise they insisted on sending someone out.
Using a pair of gardening gloves, Kim went back outside and spent a half hour picking up all the trash. Temporarily she put it back into the two broken containers. She was just finishing when the Salem police car arrived.
It was a single officer this time who Kim thought looked about her age. His name was Tom Malick. He was a serious fellow and asked to see the crime scene. Kim thought he was making more of the incident than it deserved, but took him around behind the house and showed him the containers. She had to explain that she’d just finished picking everything up.
“It would have been better if you left everything the way you found it until we’d seen it,” Tom said.
“I’m sorry,” Kim said. She couldn’t imagine what difference it would have made.
“Your situation here fits the same scenario that we’ve been seeing in the general area,” Tom said. He squatted down next to the containers and examined them carefully. Then he looked at the lids.
Kim watched him with mild impatience.
He stood up. “This was done by the animal or animals,” he said. “It wasn’t the kids. I believe there are teethmarks along the lips of the covers. Do you want to see?”
“I suppose,” Kim said.
Tom lifted up one of the covers and pointed to a series of parallel grooves.
“I think you should get more secure containers,” Tom said.
“I was planning on replacing them,” Kim said. “I’ll see what’s available.”
“You might have to go out to Burlington to find them,” Tom said. “There’s been a run on them in town.”
“It sounds like this is developing into a real problem,” Kim said.
“You’d better believe it,” Tom said. “The town is in an uproar. Didn’t you watch the local news this morning?”
“No, I didn’t,” Kim said.
“Up until last night the only deaths we’ve had with this affair have been dogs and cats,” Tom said. “This morning we found our first human victim.”
“That’s awful,” Kim said, catching her breath. “Who was it?”
“He was a vagrant who was fairly well known in town,” Tom said. “His name was John Mullins. He was found not far from here, near the Kernwood Bridge. The gruesome thing was that he’d been partially eaten.”
Kim’s mouth went dry as her mind unwillingly called up the horrid image of Buffer lying in the grass.
“John did have an ungodly blood alcohol level,” Tom said, “so he might have been dead before the animal got to him, but we’ll know more after a report from the medical examiner. The body went to Boston in hopes that we can get a lead on what kind of animal we’re dealing with from toothmarks on bones.”
“It sounds horrible,” Kim said with a shudder. “I didn’t realize how serious this was.”
“Initially we were thinking about a raccoon,” Tom said. “But with this human victim, and the amount of vandalism going on, we’re thinking of a bigger animal, like a bear. There’s been a marked increase in the bear population of New Hampshire so it’s not out of the question. But whatever it is, it’s got our Salem witch industry loving it. Of course they’re saying it’s the devil and all that kind of nonsense, trying to get people to think it’s 1692 all over again. Trouble is, they’re doing a pretty good job, and their business is brisk. So is ours.”
After a strong warning for Kim to be careful because of all the forest land on her property which could certainly conceal a bear, Tom left.
Before going all the way to Burlington, Kim went into the house and called the hardware store in Salem where she did most of her business. Contrary to what Tom had said, they assured her they had a full selection of trash containers available since they’d just gotten a shipment the day before.
Happy to have an errand that took her to town, Kim left as soon as she’d had something to eat. She drove straight to the hardware store. The clerk told her she was wise to have come directly. Since he’d spoken with her an hour previously, they’d sold a good portion of the trash container shipment.
“This animal really gets around,” Kim said.
“You’d better believe it,” the clerk said. “They’re starting to have the same problems over in Beverly. Everybody’s talking about what kind of animal it is. There’s even odds in case you want to bet some money. But it’s been great for us. Not only have we been selling a ton of garbage cans; there’s been a fire sale on ammo and rifles in our sporting goods section.”
While Kim was waiting by the register to pay for her purchases, she could hear other customers talking about the same subject. There was excitement in the air that was almost palpable.
Leaving the store, Kim had an uncomfortable feeling. She was worried that if hysteria broke out about this creature now that a human death was involved, innocent people could get hurt. She shuddered to think of trigger-happy people hiding behind their curtains just waiting to hear something or somebody toying with their trash. Since kids were apparently getting involved, it could easily turn into a tragedy.
Back at the house, Kim transferred the trash from the damaged containers to the new ones with their lids secured by an ingenious compression mechanism. She put the old ones in the back of the shed to use for collecting leaves. As she worked, she longed for the city, nostalgically remembering life there as being simple in comparison. She’d had to worry about muggers but not bears.
With the garbage problem taken care of, Kim walked across the field to the lab. She wasn’t excited about going, but with this new development of her garbage being ransacked and a body being found nearby she felt she had no choice.
Before she went inside she checked the bins where the lab’s garbage was stored. They were two heavy industrial-sized steel boxes that were lifted by the garbage truck. The lids were heavy. Kim could barely push them up. Looking inside, she could see that the lab’s trash had been undisturbed.
At the front door Kim hesitated, trying to think up an excuse to use in case she was waylaid by the congenial researchers. Lunch was the only thing she could think of. She also girded herself to bring up the subject of the dirt being tracked into the castle.
Kim passed through the reception area and entered the lab proper. Once again she was surprised. On her last visit it had been a celebration, this time it was an impromptu meeting that had to be about something important. The gay, festive atmosphere that she was learning to expect at the lab was gone. In its place was a solemnity that was almost funereal.
“I’m terribly sorry if I’m interrupting,” Kim said.
“It’s quite all right,” Edward said. “Did you want something in particular?”
Kim told them about the problem with her garbage and the visit by the police. She then asked if anybody heard or saw anything out of the ordinary during the night.
Everyone looked at each other expectantly. No one responded at first, then they all shook their heads.
“I sleep so soundly I doubt I’d hear an earthquake,” Curt said.
“You sound like an earthquake,” David joked. “But you’re right, I sleep equally as soundly.”
Kim glanced around at the faces of the researchers. The somber mood she’d detected when she’d first entered already seemed to be improving. She then told them that the police thought the culprit might be a rabid bear, but that kids had been taking advantage of the situation in the name of fun. She also described the excitement that bordered on hysteria that gripped the town.
“Only in Salem could something like this get so blown out
of proportion,” Edward said with a chuckle. “This town is never going to recover completely from 1692.”
“Some of their concern is justified,” Kim said. “The problem has recently taken on a new dimension. A dead man was found this morning not too far away from here, and his body had been gnawed.”
Gloria blanched. “How grotesque!” she exclaimed.
“Have they determined how the man died?” Edward asked.
“Not exactly,” Kim said. “They’ve sent the body to Boston to be examined. There’s a question about whether or not the man had been dead prior to being attacked by the animal.”
“Then the animal would have been only acting as a scavenger,” Edward said.
“That’s true,” Kim said. “But I still thought it was important to warn you all. I know that you walk late at night. Maybe you should drive the short distance to the castle until this problem has been taken care of. Meanwhile, keep your eye out for either a rabid animal or teenagers.”
“Thanks for warning us,” Edward said.
“One other thing,” Kim said, forcing herself to switch subjects. “There’s been a minor problem at the castle. There’s been some dirt tracked in through the entrances to the wings. I wanted to ask that you all wipe your feet.”
“We’re terribly sorry,” François said. “It’s dark when we get there and dark when we leave. We’ll have to be more careful.”
“I’m sure you will,” Kim said. “Well, that’s all I had. Sorry to bother you.”
“No problem at all,” Edward said. He accompanied her to the door. “You be careful too,” he told her. “And watch out for Sheba.”
Edward walked back to the group after seeing Kim off. He looked at each face in turn. They were all concerned.
“A human body puts this all in a different perspective,” Gloria said.
“I agree,” Eleanor said.
There was silence for a few minutes while everyone thought about the situation. David finally spoke: “I guess we have to face the fact that we could be responsible for some of the problems in the area.”
“I still think the idea is absurd,” Edward said. “It flies in the face of reason.”
“How do you explain my T-shirt?” Curt said. He pulled it from a drawer where he’d stuffed it when Kim had suddenly arrived. It was torn and stained. “I ran a test spot of one of these stains. It’s blood.”
“But it was your blood,” Edward said.
“True. But still,” Curt said, “how did it happen? I mean, I don’t remember.”
“It’s also hard to explain the cuts and bruises we have on our bodies when we wake up in the morning,” François said. “There were even sticks and dead leaves strewn about my floor.”
“We must be sleepwalking or the equivalent,” David said. “I know we don’t want to admit it.”
“Well, I haven’t been sleepwalking,” Edward said. He glared at the others. “I’m not entirely sure this isn’t some elaborate practical joke after all the playing around you guys have been doing.”
“This is no joke,” Curt said as he folded up his damaged shirt.
“We’ve seen nothing with any of the experimental animals that would even suggest a reaction like you’re suggesting,” Edward said belligerently. “It doesn’t make scientific sense. There’d be some corollary. That’s why we do animal studies.”
“I agree,” Eleanor said. “I’ve not found anything in my room nor do I have any cuts or bruises.”
“Well, I’m not hallucinating,” David said. “I’ve got real cuts here.” He stuck out his hands so everybody could see them all. “As Curt says, this is no joke.”
“I haven’t had any cuts, but I’ve awakened with my hands all dirty,” Gloria said. “And I don’t have a nail worth mentioning left. They’ve all broken off.”
“There’s something wrong despite the fact it hasn’t shown up with the animals,” David insisted. “I know that no one wants to suggest the obvious, but I will! It must be the Ultra.”
Edward’s jaws visibly tightened and his hands closed into fists.
“It’s taken me a couple of days to admit it even to myself,” David continued. “But it’s pretty clear I’ve been out at night without any recollection of going. Nor do I know what I’ve been up to, except that I’m filthy in the morning when I wake up. And I assure you, I’ve never done anything like this in my life.”
“Are you suggesting that it’s not an animal that has been causing problems around the neighborhood?” Gloria asked timidly.
“Oh, be serious,” Edward complained. “Let’s not let our imaginations go haywire.”
“I’m not suggesting anything other than I’ve been out and I don’t know what I’ve been doing,” David said.
A ripple of fear spread through the group as they began to face the reality of the situation. But it became immediately apparent there were two groups. Edward and Eleanor feared for the future of the project while the others feared for their well-being.
“We have to think about this rationally,” Edward said.
“Without doubt,” David agreed.
“The drug has been so perfect,” Edward said. “We’ve had nothing but good responses. We’ve reason to believe it’s a natural substance, or close to a natural substance, that already exists in our brains. The monkeys have shown no tendency toward somnambulism. And I personally like the way I feel on Ultra.”
Everyone immediately agreed.
“In fact, I think it is a tribute to what Ultra can do that allows us to even think rationally under these circumstances,” Edward said.
“You’re probably right,” Gloria said. “A minute ago I was beside myself with worry and disgust. I already feel more composed.”
“That’s exactly my point,” Edward said. “This is a fantastic drug.”
“But we still have a problem,” David said. “If the sleepwalking we’ve suggested is occurring, and if it is caused by the drug, which I think is the only explanation, it has to be a side effect that we couldn’t possibly have anticipated. It has to be doing something in our brains that is unique.”
“Let me get my PET scans,” François said suddenly. He went down to his cluttered workspace but quickly returned. He began laying out a series of brain scans of a monkey that had been given radioactively tagged Ultra.
“I wanted to show everybody something that I just noted this morning,” he said. “I really haven’t had time to think too much about it, and I wouldn’t have noticed it except the computer picked it up when these images were in digital form. If you look carefully, the concentration of the Ultra in the hindbrain, midbrain, and limbic system slowly builds from the first dose, then, when it gets to a certain level, the concentration goes up markedly, meaning there’s no steady state reached.”
Everyone bent over the photographs.
“Maybe the point where the concentration increases markedly is at the point that the enzymatic system that metabolizes it is overwhelmed,” Gloria suggested.
“I think you are right,” François said.
“That means we should look at the key that tells us how much Ultra each of us has been taking,” Gloria said.
They all looked at Edward.
“Seems reasonable,” Edward said. He walked over to his desk and removed a small locked box. Inside was a three-by-five card with the code that matched dosages.
The group quickly learned that Curt was on the highest dose followed by David on the next highest. On the other end of the scale, Eleanor had the lowest with Edward just behind her.
After a lengthy, rational discussion, they came up with a theory of what was happening. They reasoned that when the concentration of Ultra got to a certain point, it progressively blocked the normal variation of serotonin levels that occurred during sleep, ironing them out and altering sleep patterns.
It was Gloria who suggested that when the concentration got even higher, perhaps to the point where the sharp upward swing of the curve occurred, then the Ultra bl
ocked the radiations from the lower, or reptilian, brain to the higher centers in the cerebral hemispheres. Sleep, like other autonomous function, was regulated by the lower brain areas where the Ultra was massing.
The group was quiet for a time while everyone pondered this hypothesis. Despite their emotional recovery, they all found this idea disturbing.
“If this were the case,” David said, “what would happen if we were to wake up while this blockage was in place?”
“It would be as if we’d experienced retroevolution,” Curt said. “We’d be functioning on our lower-brain centers alone. We’d be like carnivorous reptiles!”
The shock of this statement quieted everyone with its horrid connotations.
“Wait a minute, everybody,” Edward said, trying to cheer himself as well as the others. “We’re jumping to conclusions that are not based on fact. This is all complete supposition. We have to remember that we’ve seen no problems with the monkeys, who we all agree have cerebral hemispheres, although smaller than humans’, at least most humans.”
Everyone except Gloria smiled at Edward’s humor.
“Even if there is a problem with Ultra,” Edward reminded them, “we have to take into consideration the good side of the drug, and how it has positively affected our emotions, mental abilities, acuity of our senses, and even long-term memory. Perhaps we have been taking too much of the drug and we should cut down. Maybe we should cut down to Eleanor’s level since all she’s experienced are the positive psychological effects.”
“I’m not cutting back,” Gloria said defiantly. “I’m stopping as of this minute. It horrifies me to think of the possibility of some primitive creature lurking inside my body without my even being aware and sneaking out to forage in the night.”
“Very colorfully said,” Edward remarked. “You are welcome to stop the drug. That goes without saying. No one is going to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. You all know that. Each person can decide whether to continue taking the drug or not, and here’s what I suggest: for an added cushion of safety I think we should halve Eleanor’s dose and use that as an upper limit, dropping subsequent doses in one-hundred-milligram steps.”
