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Authors: Graham Masterton

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Community
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‘I'm afraid I can,' said Kingsley Vane. ‘Don't you remember signing a durable power of attorney, in my favor? I am your attorney-in-fact, and that responsibility includes your health care.'

‘What? What the hell are you talking about? I never signed any power of attorney!'

‘You want me to show it to you?'

‘Yes, believe it or not, I want you to show it to me.'

‘Very well, come into my office when you have your appointment with Doctor Connor tomorrow, and I will gladly oblige.'

‘No. You show it to me now. And I mean right fucking now!'

‘I regret that I wouldn't be able to find it at this time of night, not without my PA. But I
will
show it to you tomorrow, I promise. And I assure you, Gregory, that it is in your very best interest. Your post-traumatic amnesia is extremely serious – more serious than Doctor Connor has admitted to you – and lately it's been deteriorating, instead of getting better. Why do you think you tried to abduct Ms Kerwin tonight? You thought that she was an old school friend of yours. You were sure that you knew her. But I'm afraid you couldn't have done.'

‘Why? Why couldn't I?'

‘Obviously I am not at liberty to tell you where she originally comes from, but geographically there was no chance that you two ever could have met before.'

‘
Geographically?
' Michael repeated. At the same time, he saw another quick flash of light, and heard a blurting voice saying ‘—
you shouldn't
—' and smelled again that elusive flowery perfume.

Kingsley Vane nodded gravely. ‘You were born and raised more than a thousand miles apart from each other. I'm sorry, Gregory. I know this is all very difficult for you. But you must trust us to help you recover. Meanwhile …' He lifted his left wrist and looked at his Rolex. ‘Meanwhile I must check on Ms Kerwin, and then go home and try to get some sleep.'

Michael couldn't think what else to say. Catherine reached out and touched his arm and said, ‘Goodnight, Greg, what's left of it.'

Doctor Hamid said, ‘Take good care.'

He climbed back into the Jeep and closed the door. He sat for a while behind the wheel, feeling stunned. Nothing made any sense any more. He
did
know Natasha Kerwin, he was absolutely sure of it. Yet Kingsley Vane had told him that his amnesia was getting worse, and Catherine had warned him against inventing memories just to fill in the gaps.

He started the engine and drove slowly out of the clinic gates. Henry was standing in his security booth, staring at him with what looked like a satisfied sneer on his face. Michael felt strongly inclined to give him the finger, but what would be the point of that? Henry might not even be real.

He drove down the road and parked the Jeep in Isobel's driveway, closing the door as quietly as he could. He let himself into the house and it was silent. He undressed quickly in his own room, and then crept naked along the hallway to Isobel's room.

Isobel was still sleeping, in exactly the same position in which he had left her. The closet door was an inch ajar, and inside he could see Belle's glossy black eyes staring at him. He closed the door, making sure that the catch clicked. Isobel mumbled and stirred and said, ‘
Emilio
?'

Michael lifted the covers and eased himself into bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her even though she felt so cold. He cupped her left breast in his hand and her nipple was crinkled tight and hard, like a raisin taken out of the fridge.

Thus in the winter.

He shut his eyes but after a few minutes he opened them again. He couldn't stop thinking about Natasha Kerwin and wondering how she was. He could see her face in his mind's eye, looking up at him. Her beautiful, perfect face. Pray God that he hadn't hurt her.

Stands the lonely tree.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew Isobel was shaking his shoulder, and the bedroom was filled with sunlight.

‘Wake up, Rip Van Winkle! Do you know what time it is?'

He lifted his head off the pillow, trying to focus on her. As he did so, he saw something totally impossible. He squeezed his eyes tight, and shook his head, and when he looked at her again, everything was flush-centered.

‘What's the matter, baby?' she asked him.

‘Tired, that's all. Didn't sleep very well.'

She kissed him, poking the tip of her cold tongue between his lips. ‘You should have woken me.'

She sat up in bed and looked around. When she saw all her clothes on the floor, she said, ‘Did I drink too much last night?'

‘A little, yes.'

‘I mustn't do that, Greg. You won't let me do it again, will you? Doctor Hamid says it's bad for my substance.'

‘Your substance? What the hell is your substance?'

‘Damned if I know,' she said, standing up. ‘I didn't ask him.' Michael kept his eyes on her in case he saw that impossible thing again, but he didn't. He didn't really know what it was that he had seen, or if he had seen it at all. It had probably been no more than an optical illusion – an indoor mirage created by the sunlight which was reflected from the multiple mirrors on the closet doors.

He climbed out of bed, too, and she came across to him and put her arms around his waist. ‘Do you know what we remind me of?' she asked him, looking serious.

Michael shook his head. ‘I have no idea.'

‘Adam and Eve, before they found out what was going on.'

He kept his eleven o'clock appointment with Catherine. She was wearing a very severe gray suit, and black pantyhose, and her hair was pinned tightly in a French pleat. He had the feeling that she was angry about something, or out of sorts. Even her perfume smelled bitter. Maybe she was suffering from PMS.

‘You're taking your Vinpocetine regularly?' she asked him, without looking up from her clipboard.

‘Of course, yes. How's Natasha Kerwin?'

‘Miraculously well, thank you.' Still without raising her eyes.

‘Is she conscious?'

‘Yes, as a matter of fact. She's very weak, but that's only to be expected.'

‘You mean
that's only to be expected after being taken out of her bed in the intensive-care unit in the middle of the night and driven around Siskiyou County for two hours
?'

Now Catherine lowered her clipboard and looked at him directly. ‘Yes, that's exactly what I mean. But fortunately for you, the outcome has been unexpectedly positive. We should thank you, I suppose, for making up our minds for us.'

‘I don't follow.'

‘It happens every day in medicine. We have to make critical choices about how to treat people, and sometimes it's hard to know if we're going to do them more harm than good. In Natasha Kerwin's case, you took the decision out of our hands.'

‘What the hell did
I
do? By the time we got back here, she looked like she was really, really sick.'

‘She was. But now she's conscious, and she's talking, and we have every expectation of a speedy recovery.'

‘And I did that?'

‘In a manner of speaking, yes.'

Michael didn't know what to say to that. When he had last checked up on Natasha Kerwin, at the intersection with Summit View, he would have said that she was critically ill. In fact, he had brought her back to the clinic because he had been convinced that if he didn't, she would die.

‘Can I see her?' he asked.

Catherine hesitated for a moment. ‘I'm not too sure that's a good idea. Do you still think you know her?'

‘Does that make any difference?'

‘Not really. I'm just asking from the point of view of
your
recovery.'

‘Mr Vane told me last night that I couldn't possibly know her. Geographically impossible, that's what he said. Apparently we were brought up more than a thousand miles apart.'

‘That wasn't what I asked you. What I asked you was, do you still
think
that you know her?'

‘What if I said no?'

‘If you said “no” I would say that you were showing some signs that your neural pathways were mending. When you come to understand that a false memory is exactly that –
false
– that's a real step forward. That's even more important than remembering things that actually happened.'

‘OK. So, can I see her?'

‘Not today. She's not quite ready for visitors yet. But maybe tomorrow or the day after. Now … can we get back to your recollection therapy? Do you remember your seventh birthday party?'

‘My
what
? My seventh birthday party? No, I don't.'

‘Well, try. You dressed up as somebody special. One of your superheroes. Can you remember which one?'

‘No, I can't. Did my so-called sister tell you this?'

Catherine lowered her clipboard again. ‘Greg … you mustn't be so suspicious and so hostile. Everybody here is trying so hard to help you find your way back.'

‘Are you? I don't know. I'm really not so sure about that.'

‘
Try
, Greg. You have to try, otherwise you won't make any progress at all.'

‘All right,' said Michael. ‘Spider-man.'

‘That's it!' smiled Catherine, lifting up her clipboard and ticking a box. ‘That's exactly right! It was Spider-man.'

Michael watched her as she scribbled an additional comment. Then he said, ‘That was only a guess, Catherine. I don't really remember it at all.'

After his session with Doctor Connor, Michael went for a physical check-up from Doctor Hamid.

Doctor Hamid said very little, but continued to smile while he checked Michael's blood pressure and heart rate and felt his spine for any obvious signs of displacement of his vertebrae.

‘I think you are quite fine,' he said, as Michael buttoned up his shirt. ‘Your usual CT scan is scheduled for tomorrow afternoon so I will be able to make one hundred per cent sure then that you have not suffered any setback in your healing process.'

‘I can go now?'

‘Of course. I will see you tomorrow.'

As Michael opened his consulting-room door, however, Doctor Hamid said, ‘You will not try such an escapade again, will you?'

‘I don't know. I'm not sure I can make any promises.'

Doctor Hamid swiveled around in his chair and took off his spectacles. ‘The entire clinic is covered by closed-circuit television. You didn't think that we would be so lax in our security, did you? Perhaps I should not be telling you this, but we have been aware all of the time that you were attempting to take Ms Kerwin away.'

Michael stared at him in disbelief. ‘You
knew
?'

‘Of course we knew. We saw you the first time when you entered Ms Kerwin's room with Jack Barr, and our security people were watching when you came back with Lloyd Hammers.'

‘Well, if you knew, why the hell didn't you stop me?'

‘It was important for us to find out how far you were prepared to go.'

‘But, for Christ's sake, I was putting Natasha Kerwin's life at risk. I thought it was worth it, to get her out of here before you pulled the plug on her. But if you knew that I couldn't get out of here, all you were doing was jeopardizing her recovery for no reason at all – except what? To find out how far I was prepared to go? I don't even understand what that means.'

Doctor Hamid said, ‘Ms Kerwin was and still is in a very serious condition. She was involved in a catastrophic automobile accident in which she suffered extensive brain trauma. There seemed to be no point in keeping her on life support. Therefore we allowed you your little adventure for your sake – so that we could evaluate how attached you felt to Ms Kerwin and how delusional you were.'

Michael closed the door and came back across the consulting room to stand right in front of Doctor Hamid's desk. ‘I still don't get it. What about her relatives? What about her mom and dad? Didn't you ask
them
how they felt about taking her off life support?'

Doctor Hamid looked away to the left, and Michael thought:
Whatever you're going to say to me now, it's going to be a lie.

‘Ms Kerwin's parents have already given us permission to take her off life support. So whatever happened to her after that was academic.'

‘But now she's recovering? That's what Doctor Connor told me, anyhow.'

‘Yes. It seems as if she is.'

‘So what exactly are you telling me?' asked Michael.

Doctor Hamid looked up at him again. ‘I am trying to emphasize to you, Gregory, that you are here in Trinity for your own good. We are watching you in order to take care of you, and for no other reason. In our judgment, if you were to leave Trinity now, the consequences for you would be disastrous.'

‘What do you mean, disastrous?'

Doctor Hamid said, ‘I am sorry, Gregory. I have already told you more than I ought to, but I am a doctor and you are my patient and I care passionately about your welfare. I am simply saying that you should stay here for the time being in order to prepare yourself physically and mentally for the world outside.'

‘Is there something wrong with me that you haven't told me? I mean apart from the spinal injury, and the memory loss?'

‘Again, Gregory, I am sorry. I am not at liberty to say any more. Sometimes, if patients know everything about their condition, it can have a negative effect on their recovery. Some cancer patients, for example, or those who suffer from multiple sclerosis.'

‘So there
is
something that you haven't told me?'

‘I cannot say that there is and I cannot say that there is not.'

‘Doctor Hamid – what the fuck is wrong with me?'

Doctor Hamid put his spectacles back on, and stood up. ‘Please, Gregory. You should go now. I have another patient waiting.'

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