by H. G. Nadel
“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Dr. Bertel stood. “Was electricity one of the physical stimuli we considered?”
“Dr. Bertel, haven’t you told me many times that you can’t expect your brain to operate at top performance if you don’t give it plenty of food, water, and rest? I’m guessing you need all three. If there is a human soul, it’s been doing fine without us for a few thousand years. It can wait a few more days.”
Bertel wasn’t listening. He began pacing. “It’s amazing what science can do in the twenty-first century. Who would have thought it? A connection between science and the soul. Imagine having dominion over death. A man with that power could command a legion of souls. He could become general of an army. He could even become king!”
As Dr. Bertel continued babbling and pacing, Julia took the opportunity to sneak her cell out of her pocket and text Austin. There wasn’t time for much. So she just thumbed, “911. Doc in lab. Losing it.”
Before she could hit the send button, Bertel grabbed her wrist, the one holding the phone. His face was inches from hers. He had morning breath times a thousand. Tyler would say it smelled like a dragon had crawled in his mouth and died. “What is that?!” he demanded fiercely.
“I’m just trying to help,” she squeaked.
He grabbed the phone out of her hand and examined it. “But what is it?”
“What do you mean, ‘what is it?’ It’s a cell phone. You know, like the one you just called me with.”
He stared right at the screen but didn’t seem to understand what she had typed. “It looks like some kind of writing.”
She was dumbfounded. Just how severe was this amnesia? For the moment, it gave her an advantage. She spoke slowly and calmly as she pointed at the phone. “You remember, Dr. Bertel. That’s where I keep my notes on our research.”
“Can you put these research notes on parchment?”
“Of course. But I’ll need my phone back, so I can send the notes to my laptop.”
“You write on this and the notes appear in your lap?”
She tried to hide her dismay. “Sure. You bet.”
“Okay, let’s put the notes in your lap. I want to know more about bringing back the soul.” He handed her the phone, tried to gather his wits about him, and said, “Maybe it will help me remember who’s after me.”
Julia hit “send” and, for the first time in her life, sent up a silent prayer. “Please let Austin get here fast.” She didn’t know if she believed in God, but after all she’d seen in the past couple of days, she figured it couldn’t hurt. She looked up at Bertel. “Okay, now we just have to hook my laptop up to the printer. It’s in the lab.” She turned to open the door, but he grabbed her again, hard—this time on the upper arm where he’d bruised her before. She winced with pain.
“Where are you going?!” he growled, his face close to hers, his lips peeled back from his teeth like an enraged animal.
“My laptop is in the lab.”
“Lab?”
“Lab-or-a-tory. Where scientists do experiments?”
“Are you trying to trick me?”
“Of course not, Dr. Bertel. Please! You’re hurting me.”
Bertel closed his eyes, twitched, and swayed, as if he were about to faint. When he opened his eyes, there was that change again, this time for the better. He looked at his hand on her arm, as if wondering how it had gotten there, then let go and stepped back with a look of dismay. “Julia … I … I’m sorry. I’d never try to hurt you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I know, Dr. Bertel. You’re not yourself. You need help. Will you let me call for help?”
He swallowed and nodded.
Julia started to dial 911, for real this time. But as she did, Bertel knocked the phone from her hand, grabbed her, and flung her across the office. She landed on the desk, the wind knocked out of her. Before she could catch her breath, he swung open the door and ran into the hall.
“Whoa! What’s up, Doc?” a familiar female voice called. “Going somewhere in a hurry, I see.”
A moment later, Nadia was leaning against the doorframe, twirling the chain attached to her key card. “I see you found Dr. Frankenstein. What’d you do to scare him off, make a pass? On the desk? Kinky.”
Julia slid off the desk, pushed past Nadia, and skidded into the hall, but the doctor was already gone. She fought the urge to chase him. It wasn’t difficult. She was terrified.
Nadia walked up to her and took a closer look at her face. “What the hell happened? You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or maybe a zombie, from the looks of the doc.”
Julia turned to stare at her friend. “Do you believe in possession?”
“No way. Nadia belongs to no man. I’m too young to be pinned down, and so are you.”
Julia rolled her eyes and smiled in spite of herself. “Not that kind of possession, you moron. Demonic possession.”
“You mean like The Exorcism of Emily Rose? No, I don’t believe in that crap, and neither do you. Re-member?”
“Stow the sarcasm and listen. Dr. Bertel was dead for an unusually long time before I zapped him back to life, and when he came back he was crazy strong. It didn’t make sense. Then he started speaking French. Then he disappeared. And now … now he’s going through these weird mood swings, like he’s some completely different person.”
“Whoa, whoa, calm down. Think about what you’re saying. You’re the scientist. I’m sure you can think of a rational explanation.”
“Like, maybe he was strong because of adrenaline? And he just never admitted he could speak French because he was worried I’d think his French was bad?”
“That’s my girl.”
“And he disappeared because he was disoriented. And he’s going through mood swings because he’s been through a trauma.”
“Sounds reasonable to me.”
“Nadia, he had this weird amnesia.”
“Still makes sense.”
“But get this: He could remember his son, but he had no idea what a cell phone was, or what a laptop was, or even what a laboratory was. He used words like dominion, legion, and parchment. He talked about becoming a king! It was like he was from another century.”
“Okay, that is kind of weird.” Nadia was starting to look as spooked as Julia felt. “What’re you going to do?”
“I’ve called Austin.”
“Oh, good. The sexy cop.”
“Nadia, this is serious.” Julia tried to play it cool with Austin. She’d never tell, but deep down she was aching to see him again.
“I know, but a little distraction wouldn’t hurt, either.”
“Have you forgotten about my boyfriend? Tyler?”
Nadia looked at her quizzically. “No. Have you?”
“Of course not. Well, for now you should stay away from Dr. Bertel.”
“Because he’s possessed? C’mon, Julia.”
“No. Because he threw me across a room.”
“You didn’t tell me that part.”
“How’d you think I ended up on the desk?” She pursed her lips at her friend’s raised eyebrows. “Forget I asked. Look, for your own safety, just steer clear if you see him.” Julia paused. “Why’d you stop by, anyway?”
“I thought we’d have lunch.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll probably be tied up with Austin for a while.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Funny.” She elbowed Nadia. “C’mon, I’ll walk out with you.”
As they walked outside, Austin’s car was pulling into the lot. Nadia’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, but her words were smooth: “I expect a full report!” Nadia gave Julia a hug and walked her to the car.
Julia waited for Austin next to her car when a flutter of white caught her eye. A note on her windshield. She grabbed it and read it. The words were French, scrawled in a script so old-fashioned it looked like calligraphy: “Mort a l’hérétique.” She felt the blood rush from her head.
“Julia! Where’s Bertel?! Are you okay?” Jul
ia looked up and saw Austin racing at full tilt to her side. Without hesitation, he put his strong arms around her shoulders, drawing her close. Julia’s heart surged as she felt the heat emanating between them. There was no mistaking it—Austin felt something for her too. She threw her arms around his back and allowed herself to be enveloped in his warm embrace. One hand went up to the nape of her neck and began to massage her head, which was now lying on his chest. The other hand drifted down her spine to the small of her back and pressed his fingers into her flesh. Without thinking, she began to run her hand through the back of his thick, wavy hair. She looked up hesitantly and saw a new fire in his eyes. Then, in a flash, it was gone. He detached himself from the embrace, cleared his throat, and looked down at the note she was still holding. “‘Death to the heretic?’“
“Yes. It’s so …” Julia’s words trailed off as her eye caught the message written on her windshield with a finger in the rain-streaked dust: “I’ll never leave you.”
THIRTEEN
Austin followed Julia back to her apartment. When they walked in, she double-locked the door behind them.
“Can I get you a glass of water?” she said.
“Sure, thanks.” He followed her to the kitchen; and, when she almost fumbled the glass, he rescued it from her shaking hand. “Maybe you’d better sit down and let me get that.” He pulled out a kitchen chair, and she almost fell into it. Austin filled the glass from the tap and handed it to her. Then he grabbed another one from the cupboard and filled it for himself.
“Thanks.” She took a sip and then set the glass down, sloshing water on the table.
Austin took the kitchen chair next to her and twisted it backwards. He straddled it, his folded arms resting on the back of the chair. He observed her quietly for a moment, his oblique expression making Julia wonder what he was thinking.
“Julz, you certainly have a penchant for trouble,” Austin said with a half-smile, his blue eyes sparkling. A thrill went through her at the sound of her name. Only her father had ever called her “Julz,” and she secretly loved the nickname.
“You knew what that note meant.”
“Well, at least I know what the words mean.” He let go of her hand, reached into his pocket, pulled out the note, which was now enclosed in an evidence bag, and read, “Mort à l’hérétique’: Death to the heretic. I spent three summers in France. How about you? You speak French?”
“Like a native. My mother was from Paris.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss, Julz.’“ His gaze was sad, thoughtful. “You’ve had a rough year.”
Her eyes filled with tears at the simple acknowledgment. “You could say that.” Austin took Julia’s hand in hers and began to massage her knuckles with his thumb. They were silent for a moment. Then Austin cleared his throat.
“Let’s talk about this death threat.” He tossed it onto the table between them. “We know what the words mean, but any idea what the note means?”
“You mean why someone would say such a thing to me? I don’t have a clue.”
“Did Bertel speak French?”
“No. At least, he always told me he was language-challenged.”
“Was he a religious man?”
She shook her head. “Agnostic.”
“And you?”
“A heretic.” She shrugged off his sardonic look. “I told you before that I was atheist.”
“Actually, what you said was that the soul never used to interest you, because you’d never seen observable evidence of it before.”
“Right.”
“But lately you’ve seen observable evidence, haven’t you?”
“Of a soul. But not of God.”
“Aren’t they related?”
“Not necessarily. To me the word ‘soul’ is just a convenient term. I’d call it the brain’s chemical-electrical source for personality and character.”
“How clinical of you.”
“You’d prefer something more poetic?”
“Sorry. I’m not trying to grade your answers. I’m just trying to figure out why someone would want to threaten you.”
“If we suspect the note was from a religious fanatic, then I guess he’d say I’m a pretty big heretic. Once upon a time, I would’ve been burned at the stake or something.”
“Isn’t that for witchcraft?”
“I suppose some people would see what Bertel and I were doing as not too far from that. How about you? Are you religious?”
“Absolutely. But then I’ve been brainwashed by years of Catholic school.”
“Figures.” Julia laughed. She didn’t mention that she had also attended Catholic school when she was younger. But to her, God seemed as scary a superstition as the Boogie Man: deciding who lives and dies, promising people goodies if they behave and torture if they don’t. Now, as she looked into Austin’s eyes, she almost wanted to believe.
Austin tore his eyes away from hers with some effort. He stood and started pacing, “Let’s look at this systematically. Did any religious types ever complain about your work?”
“Not as far as I know. I thought that no one knew about it, but then …”
“What?” Austin looked at her expectantly.
“Well, Dr. Bertel hinted a couple of times that someone might be after us. He said our research could be dangerous if it got into the wrong hands.”
Austin nodded silently. “What about that other note, ‘I’ll never leave you’?”
Julia looked down at her hands. “I don’t know. It has to be someone different, doesn’t it? Why would someone leave one note in paper and another on the glass right under it? It doesn’t make sense.” She wasn’t ready to tell him the note had appeared before in her bathroom mirror.
“Okay, so let’s go back to Bertel. You said he wasn’t himself.”
“He said he had amnesia, but it was worse than that. He acted like a raving maniac. He was still so messed up he looked like a corpse. And he seemed weak and exhausted, but he threw me across the room.”
“Why did he do that?”
“He kept asking about our research. He said it might jog his memory. But when I started telling him about it, it wasn’t like it was helping his memory. It was like it was the first time he’d ever heard it. He used to be excited when we’d talk about the research, but this time he was beyond obsessive. He insisted I give him my notes.”
“Did you?”
“No way. He sounded so crazy I felt like I couldn’t trust him. When I sent you that text, he accused me of trying to trick him, which I guess I was. That was when he lost it. When I suggested calling for help, he freaked out and threw me onto the desk with that same superhuman strength from before.”
“You mean like he did the night you revived him, when he grabbed you and said, ‘You belong to me’?”
She nodded.
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Austin said, “and I’m starting to develop a theory.”
Julia nodded faster. “Me too.”
He sat down again. “You may think my theory is a little … farfetched.”
She bit her lip. “Mine sounds totally insane.”
“Okay, let’s start with farfetched,” he said. “Bertel has been depressed for a long time over the death of his son, and now his wife has left him. He’s been suffering from intense guilt. He wrote a book about demonic possession, using fringe science to support his theories. Now he’s trying to prove that the soul resides in the pineal gland, as our friend Descartes supposed.” He took a deep breath and searched Julia’s eyes.
Her heart was pounding. Austin seemed to be on the same track she was. She nodded encouragement.
He continued, “I think his incredible guilt has driven him over the edge, and now Bertel is suffering under the delusion that he’s possessed. It explains everything, even the superhuman strength. People under extreme emotional stress have been known to perform astonishing physical feats.” He paused. “What’s wrong? Too out there?”
“No,” she sai
d. “Not out there enough.”
“Really? What were you thinking?”
“You know that Dr. Bertel and I were able to use a drug cocktail, with PCP as the primary component, to create a small chemical change in the pineal gland of cadaver brains?”
“Your brand of witchcraft.”
It was her turn to give him a sardonic look. “Whatever. Anyway, I didn’t tell you everything. We weren’t just trying to find the location of the soul. We were trying to see if we could bring one back. We thought if we could come up with a way to make the chemical change permanent, we could administer this treatment when someone died and, putting it simply, sort of bounce the soul back into the body.”
“So you wanted to raise the dead.”
“Not exactly. We wanted to revive people at the moment of death. When the heart stops, you use a defibrillator. But when the soul stops, or if you prefer, when the brain stops, that’s when our treatment would come in. Bertel called it ‘seizing the soul back.’ If we could maintain the chemical reaction, then death wouldn’t take place, unless of course the body was unable to function. But medicine offers so many interventions. We already have organ transplants, engineers are working on mechanical replacements, and cloned organs are liable to have future applications. So, if we could just keep the soul viable long enough, maybe we could extend life, possibly for decades.”
“Wow,” Austin said. “No wonder Bertel thought someone might be after him. This could revolutionize medicine—and life as we know it! It could be worth millions. Billions.”
Julia put both hands to her head at this new revelation. “Right. I never thought about that.” She shook her head. “Actually, I was going in another direction with this: I’m thinking maybe I didn’t just bring Dr. Bertel’s heart back with the defibrillator. I’m thinking maybe I brought something more back. You see, after we got the chemical reaction with PCP, we realized we needed some sort of external physical catalyst to maintain an electrical impulse, as well. We hadn’t started any testing yet, but among the possibilities I suggested was an electrical charge. Austin, Dr. Bertel was dead for several minutes, and it’s unusual for someone to come back after that long. But if he were on drugs, like you suspected, and if those drugs were from our lab, then there’s a remote possibility the added electrical charge might have …”
