Mindbend

by Robin Cook

  “Yes, indeed,” said Adam. He bent her head and kissed her, while his fingers probed her hairline to see if she was wearing a wig. She wasn’t, but as he rubbed the skin above her temples he felt little ridged lines.

  “Heather, I want to ask you a question. Are those scars?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Heather, sounding annoyed. “Where?”

  “Along your temples,” said Adam. Gently, he turned her head to one side and separated her hair so he could see. There were small scars, about a centimeter long, just as José had described.

  Heather raised her hand and felt the spot. Then she shrugged.

  “Do you have any idea how you got those?” asked Adam.

  “No,” said Heather. “And what’s more, I don’t care.”

  “I’m sorry if I’m not much fun,” said Adam. “I guess I’m just too relaxed.”

  Heather looked disappointed. “Maybe I should have waited to give you the capsules.”

  “Will Mr. Powell be pleased that I’ve finally forgotten my worries?” asked Adam.

  Heather nodded, gently rubbing his shoulders.

  “Why does Mr. Powell care if I’m relaxed?” asked Adam.

  “So you can go to the instruction room,” said Heather.

  Adam stared at the girl. She caught his glance and said quickly, “Are you sure you’re too relaxed?”

  “Absolutely,” said Adam. “Do you know where this instruction room is?”

  “Of course. In fact I’m supposed to take you there. But not until you’re ready.”

  “I’ve never been this relaxed before,” said Adam, allowing his arms to go limp. “Why don’t you take me now?”

  Instead of answering, Heather seemed to go into another trance. A few minutes later she picked up the conversation as if she were unaware of the pause. “I could take you to the instruction room if you take another pill. I’m supposed to make sure you fall asleep.”

  “Give it to me,” said Adam. “I can hardly keep my eyes open now.”

  It was curious how easy it was to fool Heather. Like the steward, she seemed almost childlike in her trust. After a while Adam lay back and closed his eyes. Ten minutes later, Heather helped him to his feet and guided him out the door. They went back to the central stairs, climbed to the main deck, and entered the dining room. Just beyond one of the doors to the side of the podium was a pantry with tablecloths, flatware, and trays. To the right was another door that opened onto a stairway that descended deep into the ship. Adam guessed it led to C deck.

  As they went down, they passed several stewards coming up. Adam tried to avoid their eyes. He didn’t want anyone to notice that he was faking his sedation.

  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they went down a long hall to a pair of double doors.

  “Stuart Smyth,” said Heather to the steward who was guarding the entrance. “He’s a repeat.”

  “Bench 47,” said the steward, handing Heather something that looked like a credit card. She and Adam went inside.

  When Adam’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw he was in what appeared to be the lobby of a theater. Peering over the chest-high wall, he saw a movie screen. There was no sound, but he thought he saw images of doctors flickering in the dark.

  A steward took the card from Heather and without a word grasped Adam by the arm and pulled him into the theater. Even in the dark Adam could see that the seats were very different from those in a regular movie house. Each one looked like a miniature electric chair with a myriad of electrodes and straps. There were fifteen to twenty seats in each row and more than twenty rows.

  Holding his arm in an uncomfortably firm grip, the steward led Adam down the center aisle. Adam was shocked to see that the doctors were stark naked and were restrained by leather straps. They all wore helmets fitted with earphones and surface electrodes for stimulation. They all seemed to be heavily drugged, like Alan, to a point between sleeping and wakefulness. More wires snaked around their bodies and were attached with needle electrodes to various nerve sites.

  The steward stopped by an empty chair in the front row. Then he inserted the card into a slot on the side of the chair and started to adjust the wires.

  Adam was almost afraid to breathe. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a horror movie. Glancing up at the huge screen, he saw the image of a doctor offering a patient a generic brand of medicine. The moment the name flashed on the screen, the doctor’s face contorted in pain and he dropped the bottle. At the same time Adam heard an eerie wail rise from the doctors in the room. Then the doctor on the screen reached for an Arolen product and a broad smile crossed his face. Adam glanced at the doctor next to him and saw that he, too, was smiling blissfully.

  Watching the steward position the straps, Adam realized he was seeing the very latest in mind-control techniques involving adverse conditioning and positive reinforcing. As more clinical situations were enacted on the screen, Adam saw the faces of the doctors near him contorting in either pain or pleasure, depending on the circumstances projected.

  My God, thought Adam, I’m in a nightmare where the doctor has become the patient! No wonder Vandermer had changed his mind about pregdolen. And to think he is in charge of Jennifer!

  The steward began unbuttoning Adam’s shirt, and the touch of his fingers made Adam aware of his own vulnerability. He wasn’t an observer. They meant to wire him up and subject him to the same treatment.

  Studying the blank face of the steward as he awkwardly struggled with the buttons, Adam realized the man was drugged like the doctors, just less heavily. In fact, Adam decided, all the stewards must be drugged. Maybe some had even had psychosurgery, as Adam suspected Heather had.

  A sequence that condemned unnecessary surgery came on the screen. Apparently, MTIC wanted to do more than simply brainwash the doctors into prescribing Arolen products.

  The steward had taken off Adam’s shirt and was fumbling with his belt.

  “Do you know what you are doing?” rasped Adam, unable to remain silent any longer.

  “We are helping the doctors learn,” said the steward, taken aback by Adam’s unexpected question.

  “At what cost?” said Adam, grabbing the man’s wrist.

  Slowly but with great strength, the steward peeled Adam’s fingers off his arm. Adam was amazed at the man’s strength in light of the amount of drugs he’d undoubtedly been given.

  “Please,” said the steward. “You must cooperate.” He lifted the helmet device with the intention of slipping it over the top of Adam’s head.

  Knowing surprise was his only weapon, Adam snatched the helmet and jammed it down on the steward’s head. Grasping the mass of wires, Adam wrapped them around the man’s neck, then turned and fled, hoping the steward would be unable to shout before Adam could get out of the room.

  As Adam ran up the central aisle, the doctors issued another anguished wail, sending a new spike of terror down his spine. He rushed for the door, bursting into the hallway at full speed. As he shot by the guard in the booth, the man gave a shout.

  Adam raced up the stairs to the main deck so quickly that he almost fell. A steward coming down reached out a hand to help, but he made no attempt to stop Adam.

  In the dining room Adam had to choose whether or not to go farther up. He decided he would, since the areas below made him claustrophobic. Running past the lecture halls, he heard a series of bells. Then the ship’s PA system crackled to life.

  “Now hear this. Passenger Smyth is in distress and must be detained.”

  Pausing at the top of the stairs, Adam began to shake with fright. Desperately, he tried to control his panic and think of a place to hide. The various lockers and closets seemed too obvious. Besides, he’d be trapped. He continued up another flight of stairs. As he passed the promenade deck, he heard men shouting on the level below.

  Gripped by terror, he emerged on the sun deck and ran by the swimming pool. Suddenly the imposing white smokestack loomed in front of him. He could see a metal la
dder set into the near side. Without thinking, he grabbed the lowest rung and began climbing. As he rose from the shelter of the deck the wind buffeted his naked chest. He had gone about fifty feet when he heard his pursuers on the sun deck below. Imagining a spotlight pinning him against the white wall, Adam closed his eyes with fear.

  After several seconds had passed with no shout of discovery, Adam hazarded a downward glance. Several stewards were methodically lifting the canvas covers of the lifeboats and opening the various lockers. At least they hadn’t guessed his hiding spot, but seeing how high he was above the deck made him dizzy. When he looked up, it wasn’t any better. The stars seemed to be careening back and forth across the sky.

  After a few minutes Adam looked down again. Several stewards were milling about at the base of the stack. Despite his fear of heights, Adam began inching his way farther up the ladder. He estimated that he had another twenty-five feet or so before the top. Just below the top on either side of the stack were two dark openings, each about the size of a man. He decided to see if he could hide in one. Trying to keep his mind off the possibility of falling, Adam reached the openings. Within each was a metal grate floor.

  Knowing he couldn’t remain in his exposed position any longer, he grasped the edge of the opening on the left and worked his foot over to the lip. Suspended between the ladder and the opening, he almost lost his nerve. It was a long drop to the deck. Marshaling his courage, he let go of the ladder and pulled himself inside the stack.

  Adam walked around on the catwalk inside of the smokestack once he’d regained his balance. He had no idea what the space could be used for, but he was happy it was there. Feeling more secure now that no one could see him, he began trying to figure out what to do next. The image of those doctors moaning in pain haunted him. Now he understood what Vandermer and Foley had endured.

  Remembering Dr. Goddard’s lecture about Arolen’s interest in fetology, he realized the company must have a growing need for fetal tissue. He suddenly knew why the Julian Clinic had such an active amniocentesis program. The mix-up with Jennifer’s specimen was probably not an accident. Adam broke into a cold sweat. What if they talked Jennifer into repeating the amniocentesis before he got back to New York!

  Adam sank to his knees. If he had only run forward, he might have gotten to the crew’s quarters and somehow used the radio. No, he thought, that was pure fantasy. He was trying to think how he could get back to the deck when there was a thud against the outside of the stack.

  Carefully Adam pulled himself to the edge of the opening and looked over the rim. About halfway up the ladder was a steward. Adam panicked again. He was trapped. Maybe the man would not climb into the opening, but that seemed unlikely.

  Adam could hear the man’s labored breathing, and a second later a hand gripped the rim, followed by a foot and then the steward himself. Adam waited until the man was silhouetted against the opening, his arms apart for balance. Lunging forward, Adam used both hands to grab the man’s head and ram it as hard as he could against the steel plate of the chimney. Adam had to grab the steward’s jacket to keep him from tumbling backward out of the opening. He pulled him in and allowed the man to crumble onto the catwalk. He bent down to look at the man’s head. At least there was no blood.

  Pulling the steward into a sitting position, Adam struggled to remove the man’s shirt and white jacket. The bow tie was easy to take off, since it was just a clip-on. Standing up, Adam tried on the clothes. They were big but serviceable. Buttoning the top button of the shirt, he put on the bow tie. Stepping over the man, Adam sighted down the ladder, deciding that he’d better leave before the man regained consciousness. Adam figured his best bet was to hide in the crew’s quarters.

  He was halfway down the ladder when a number of stewards appeared on the deck below. He’d just have to bluff his way through. When he got to the deck, he straightened his tie, smoothed his jacket, and started forward.

  He had to fight the urge to run as he passed one of the stewards who was checking deck-chair lockers near the main stairs. Fortunately, the stairway itself was empty, and Adam reached the promenade deck otherwise unobserved. The rest of the stewards had dispersed, no doubt searching for him in other parts of the ship. Adam exited on the starboard side and walked forward. As he slipped through the door in the barricade, he realized his disguise might make him look suspicious in that part of the ship. Pulling off the jacket, he threw it overboard.

  Moving quickly, Adam walked to the door that he’d entered with José. Opening the door, he looked down a corridor illuminated by bare light bulbs which threw grotesque shadows on the walls. From the far end of the hall, Adam heard voices and the clink of cutlery. He guessed it was the crew’s mess.

  Moving as silently as the metal floor would allow, Adam tiptoed to José’s door and knocked. There was no answer. He tried the knob, which turned easily, then stepped inside, quickly closing the door behind him.

  Unfortunately, there was no light in the room. He ran his fingers along the wall by the door but didn’t encounter any switches. Cautiously, he advanced farther into the room, trying to recall the floor plan. He remembered there was a lamp fixed to the wall above the suspended bed.

  Suddenly a hand came out of the blackness and grabbed Adam by the throat.

  “José!” he gasped before the hand tightened its grip, cutting off his air. Adam was just about to pass out when the grip on his neck loosened. There was a click, and light filled the room. José was standing in front of Adam, looking at him with disgust.

  “Are you trying to get yourself killed?” he asked, taking his hand away and sitting on the edge of the bed.

  “I knocked,” Adam managed to say, rubbing his throat. “You didn’t answer.”

  “I was fucking asleep,” said José.

  “I’m sorry,” said Adam, “but it was an emergency.”

  “One of the college girls after you?” asked José sarcastically.

  “Not quite,” said Adam. “It’s the weirdos in the white jackets.”

  “What the hell do they want with you?” asked José.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. But there’s a chance for you to make some money. Does that interest you?”

  “Money always interests me,” said José. “What do you have in mind?”

  “When do we get to St. Thomas?”

  “What time is it?”

  Adam looked at his watch. “One-thirty.”

  “In four or five hours. Something like that.”

  “Well, I need to stay hidden until we dock, and then I’ll have to sneak off the ship.”

  José wiped his face with the back of his hand. “What kind of money are we talking about?”

  Adam took out his wallet and counted the cash. All told, he had close to three hundred dollars.

  “I’ll need some for a taxi, but two hundred seventy-five is yours,” said Adam.

  José raised his eyebrows. “I can’t guarantee anything, but I’ll give it a try. If you get caught, though, I’ll swear we never met.”

  Adam handed over a hundred dollars. “You’ll get the rest when I get ashore.”

  José nodded agreement and went over to his locker. He pulled out a pair of grease-stained khaki trousers and a torn flannel shirt. Tossing them to Adam, he said, “Put them on and you pass for crew. I got a couple of friends who hate the stewards as much as I do. Maybe they’ll help. You stay here. No one should bother you.”

  Adam tried to tell José how much he appreciated his help, but José stopped him and said the money was all he wanted. Then he pulled on a pair of pants and left the room.

  Adam put on the filthy clothes and stashed his own in the back of the locker. Then he looked at himself in the mirror above the sink. He looked terrible, but for once he appreciated his rapid-growing beard. He certainly no longer looked like one of the passengers.

  The door opened again and Adam almost fainted, but it was only José.

  “Next time, why don’t you knoc
k,” Adam said.

  “Hey, this is my fucking cabin,” said José irritably.

  Adam couldn’t argue that point.

  José sat back down on the bed. “I just talked to a friend of mine about getting you off the ship. He knows a way. Seems he used it himself one day when the crew wasn’t supposed to go ashore in St. Thomas. The problem is that it requires all your money up front. I got to pay off two other guys.”

  Adam shook his head.

  “Listen,” said José, “if you’re not happy with the arrangement, why don’t you leave?”

  Adam got the point. He didn’t have any leverage at all. If José wanted to, he could take the money by force.

  With a sigh of resignation, Adam pulled out his wallet. Keeping twenty-five dollars for himself, he handed the rest to José.

  “You act as if you’re doing me a favor,” the sailor said, stuffing the notes into his pocket. “But let me tell you, we wouldn’t be sticking our necks out for this kind of money except we hate those steward bastards.”

  “I appreciate it,” said Adam, wondering what the chances were that José was just taking him for a ride.

  “You can hide here for the rest of the night. In the morning, after we dock, I’ll come and get you. Understand?”

  Adam nodded. “Can you give me an idea of your plans?”

  José smiled. “I’d rather let that be a surprise. You make yourself comfortable and don’t worry about a thing.”

  Adam could hear José laughing as he closed the door.

  Looking at his watch, Adam guessed that it was going to be a long night. He thought he was much too tense to sleep, but after a while he drifted off. He didn’t know how many hours had passed when he was awakened by loud shouts in the corridor. Adam recognized the voice at once.

  “In this part of the ship, I am in command, and no one is going to search without my permission.” It was the captain speaking.

  A deeper voice responded, “I’m in charge of the ship, so please let me through.”

  Adam thought it might have been Raymond Powell.

  Other voices began shouting, and Adam could hear doors being opened and slammed shut.