Acceptable Risk

15

Thursday, September 29, 1994

Over the next several days Kim was again tempted on several occasions to give Ultra a try. Her gradually mounting anxiety had begun to affect her sleep. But each time she was on the brink of taking the drug, she pulled back.

Instead Kim tried to use her anxiety as a motivator. Each day she spent more than ten hours working in the castle and quit only when it became difficult for her to see well enough to read the handwritten pages. Unfortunately, her increased efforts were to no avail. She began to wish that she would find some seventeenth-century material, even if it had no association with Elizabeth, just to encourage her.

The presence of the plumbers turned out to be a pleasant diversion rather than an imposition. Whenever Kim took a break she at least had someone to talk with. She even watched them work for a time, intrigued with the use of the blowtorch for soldering copper tubing.

The only indication that Kim noticed that the researchers were sleeping in the castle was dirt tracked in from both entrances to the wings. Although some soiling was to be expected, she thought the amount involved suggested surprising inconsiderateness.

Edward’s assertive, happy, and caring mood continued. With a gesture reminiscent of their initial dating days, Edward even had a large bouquet sent to the house on Tuesday with a note that said, In Loving Gratitude.

The only alteration in his behavior occurred on Thursday morning when Kim was just about to leave the cottage for the castle. Edward came through the front door in a huff. Obviously irritated, he slammed his address book down on the table next to the telephone, putting Kim immediately on edge. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Damn right something is wrong,” he said. “I have to come all the way up here to use the phone. When I use one at the lab every one of those twits listens to my conversation. It drives me nuts.”

“Why didn’t you use the phone in the empty reception area?” Kim asked.

“They listen when I go there too,” he said.

“Through the walls?” she questioned.

“I’ve got to call the goddamn head of the Harvard Licensing Office,” Edward complained, ignoring Kim’s comment. “That jerk has launched a personal vendetta against me.” Edward opened his address book to find the number.

“Could it be that he’s just doing his job?” Kim asked, knowing this was an ongoing controversy.

“You think he’s doing his job by getting me suspended?” Edward yelled. “It’s incredible! I never would have guessed the little dick-headed bureaucrat had the nerve to pull off such a stunt.”

Kim felt her heart pounding. Edward’s tone reminded her of the glass-throwing episode in his apartment. She was afraid to say anything else.

“Ah, well,” Edward said in a completely calm tone of voice. He smiled. “Such is life. There’s always these little ups and downs.” He sat down and dialed his number.

Kim allowed herself to relax a degree, but she didn’t take her eyes off Edward. She listened while he had a civilized conversation with the man he’d just railed against. When he got off the phone he said that the man was quite reasonable after all.

“As long as I’m here,” Edward said, “I’ll dash upstairs and get the dry cleaning together that you asked me to take care of yesterday.”

Edward started for the stairs.

“But you already got the dry cleaning together,” Kim said. “You must have done it this morning, because I found it when I got up.”

Edward stopped and blinked as if he were confused. “I did?” he asked. Then he added: “Well, good for me! I should be getting right back to the lab anyway.”

“Edward?” Kim called to him before he went out the front door. “Are you all right? You’ve been forgetting little things lately.”

Edward laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “I’ve been a bit forgetful. But I’ve never felt better. I’m just preoccupied. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and we’re all about to be extremely rich. And that includes you. I spoke to Stanton about giving you some stock, and he agreed. So you’ll be part of the big payoff.”

“I’m flattered,” Kim said.

Kim went to the window and watched Edward walk back to the lab. She watched him the whole way, pondering his behavior. He was now more congenial toward her on the whole, but he was also unpredictable.

Impulsively Kim got her car keys and headed into town. She needed to talk to someone professional whose opinion she valued. Conveniently, Kinnard was still in the area. Using the phone at the information desk in the Salem Hospital, she had him paged.

A half hour later he met her in the coffee shop. He was dressed in surgical scrub clothes, having come directly from surgery. She had been nursing a cup of tea.

“I hope I’m not bothering you terribly,” Kim said the moment he sat down across from her.

“It’s good to see you,” Kinnard said.

“I needed to ask a question,” she said. “Could forgetfulness be a side effect of a psychotropic drug?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “But I have to qualify that by saying that a lot of things can affect short-term memory. It’s a very nonspecific symptom. Should I assume that Edward is having such a problem?”

“Can I count on your discretion?” she asked.

“I’ve already told you as much,” Kinnard said. “Are Edward and his team still taking the drug?”

Kim nodded.

“They’re crazy,” Kinnard said. “They’re just asking for trouble. Have you noticed any other effects?”

Kim gave a short laugh. “You wouldn’t believe it,” she said. “They’re all having a dramatic response. Before they started the drug they were bickering with each other and sullen. Now they are all in great moods. They couldn’t be any happier or more content. They act as if they’re having a ball even though they continue to work at the same feverish pace.”

“That sounds like a good effect,” Kinnard said.

“In some respects,” Kim admitted. “But after you’ve been with them for a while you sense something weird, like they are all too similar and tedious despite their hilarity and their industriousness.”

“Now it sounds a little like Brave New World,” Kinnard said with a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh,” Kim said. “I thought of the same thing. But that’s more of a philosophical issue, and it’s not my immediate concern. What has me worried is the forgetfulness Edward has been exhibiting with silly everyday things. And it seems to be getting worse. I don’t know if the other people are experiencing it or not.”

“What are you going to do?” Kinnard asked.

“I don’t know,” Kim said. “I was hoping you could either definitively confirm my fears or dispel them. I guess you can’t do either.”

“Not with any degree of certainty,” Kinnard admitted. “But I can say something you can think about. Perceptions are extraordinarily influenced by expectations. That’s why double-blind studies have been instituted in medical research. There is a possibility that your expectation to see negative effects from Edward’s drug is affecting what you see. I know Edward is extraordinarily smart, and it doesn’t make much sense to me that he would take any unreasonable risk.”

“You have a point,” Kim said. “It’s true that at the moment I don’t know what I’m seeing. It could all be in my head, but I don’t think so.”

Kinnard glanced at the wall clock and had to excuse himself to do a case. “I’m sorry to cut this short,” he said, “but I’m here for the next few days if you want to talk more. Otherwise I’ll see you in the SICU in Boston.”

The moment they parted, Kinnard gave her hand a squeeze. She squeezed back and thanked him for listening to her.

Arriving back at the compound, Kim went directly to the castle. She had a few words with the plumbers, who insisted they were making good progress but that they’d need another three days or so to finish. They also suggested they should check the guest wing for the same problem. Kim told them to do whatever was needed.

Before going down to the wine cellar, Kim inspected the two entrances to the wings. She was appalled when she saw the one to the servants’ quarters. Not only was there dirt on the stairs, but there were also some sticks and leaves. Even an empty container for Chinese take-out food was in the corner near the door.

Swearing under her breath, Kim went to the cleaning closet, got out a mop and a bucket, and cleaned the stairway. The dirt had been tracked up to the first landing.

After she’d cleaned everything up, Kim walked to the front door, picked up the outdoor mat, and carried it around to the entrance to the servants’ wing. She thought about putting up a note, but then thought the mat should be message enough.

Finally Kim descended into the depths of the wine cellar and got to work. Although she did not find any documents even close to the seventeenth century, her concentration served to free her mind from her concerns, and she slowly began to relax.

At one o’clock Kim took a break. She went back to the cottage and let Sheba out while she had some lunch. Before she returned to the castle she made sure the cat was back in the house. At the castle she chatted with the plumbers for a few minutes and watched Albert deftly make some seals on water-supply pipes with his blowtorch. Finally she got back to work, this time in the attic.

Kim was again becoming discouraged when she found a whole folder of material from the era she was interested in. With excitement she carried it over to one of the dormered windows.

She was not surprised when the papers turned out to be business-related. A few of them were in Ronald’s easily recognizable script. Then Kim caught her breath. Out of the customs documents and bills of lading she pulled a piece of personal correspondence. It was a letter to Ronald from Thomas Goodman.

17th August 1692Salem Town Sir:

Many are the villainies that have plagued our God fearing town. It has been a matter of great affliction for me whereby I have been unwillingly involved. I am sore of heart that you have thought ill of me and my duty as a convenanted member of our congregation and hath refused to converse with me in matters of joint interest. It is true that I in good faith and in God’s name did testify against your departed wife at her hearing and at her trial. At your request I did visit your home on occasion to offer aid if it be needed. On that fateful day I found your door ajar yet a frigid chill be on the land and the table laden with food and sustenance as if a meal interrupted yet other objects upside down or sharply broken with blood droplets on the floor. I did fear for an Indian raid and the safety of your kin. But the children both natural and the refugee girls I espied cowering in fear upstairs with word that your Good-wife fell into a fit while eating and not be of her normal self and having run to the shelter of your livestock. With trepidation I took myself there and called her name in the darkness. She came at me like a wild woman and affrighted me greatly. Blood was on her hands and her frock and I saw her handiwork. With troubled spirit I did quiet her at risk to my own well being. To a like purpose I did likewise with your livestock which were all affrighted yet all were safe. To these things I spoke the truth in God’s name.

I remain your friend and neighbor, Thomas Goodman.

“These poor people,” Kim murmured. This letter came the closest to anything she’d read so far in communicating to her the personal horror of the Salem witch ordeal, and Kim felt empathy for all involved. She could tell that Thomas was confused and dismayed at being caught between friendship and what he thought was the truth. And Kim’s heart went out to poor Elizabeth, who’d been rendered out of her mind with the mold to the point of terrorizing her own children. It was easy for Kim to understand how the seventeenth-century mind would have ascribed such horrifying and inexplicable behavior to witchcraft.

In the middle of Kim’s empathy she realized that the letter presented something new and disturbing. It was the mention of blood with its implication of violence. Kim didn’t even want to imagine what Elizabeth could have been doing in the shed with the livestock, yet she had to admit it might be significant.

Kim looked back at the letter. She reread the sentence where Thomas described that all the livestock was safe despite the presence of blood. That seemed confusing unless Elizabeth had done something to herself. The thought of self-mutilation made Kim shudder. Its possibility was enhanced by Thomas’s mention of droplets of blood on the floor in the house. But the blood in the house was mentioned in the same sentence with broken objects, suggesting the blood could have come from an inadvertent wound.

Kim sighed. Her mind was a jumble, but one thing was clear. The effect of the fungus was now associated with violence, and Kim thought that was something Edward and the others should know immediately.

Clutching the letter, Kim hastened from the castle and half-ran to the lab. She was out of breath when she entered. She was also immediately surprised: she’d walked into the middle of a celebration.

Everyone greeted Kim with great merriment, pulling her over to one of the lab benches where they had uncorked a bottle of champagne. Kim tried to refuse a beakerful but they wouldn’t hear of it. Once again she felt as if she were with a bunch of frolicsome collegians.

As soon as Kim was able, she worked her way over to Edward’s side to ask him what was going on.

“Eleanor, Gloria, and François have just pulled off an amazing feat of analytic chemistry,” Edward explained. “They’ve already determined the structure of one of Ultra’s binding proteins. It’s a huge leap forward. It will allow us to modify Ultra if need be or to design other possible drugs that will bind at the same site.”

“I’m happy for you,” Kim said. “But I want to show you something that I think you ought to see.” She handed him the letter.

Edward quickly scanned the letter. When he looked up at Kim he winked at her. “Congratulations,” he said. “This is the best one yet.” Then, turning to the group he called out: “Listen up, you guys. Kim has found the greatest bit of proof that Elizabeth had been poisoned with the fungus. It will be even better than the diary entry for the article for Science.

The researchers eagerly gathered around. Edward gave them the letter and encouraged them all to read it.

“It’s perfect,” Eleanor said, passing it on to David. “It even mentions she’d been eating. It’s certainly a graphic description how fast the alkaloid works. She’d probably just taken a bite of bread.”

“It’s a good thing you eliminated that hallucinogenic side-chain,” David said. “I wouldn’t want to wake up and find myself out with the cows.”

Everyone laughed except Kim. She looked at Edward and, after waiting for him to stop laughing, asked him if the suggestion of violence in the letter bothered him.

Edward took the letter back and read it more carefully. “You know, you have a good point,” he told Kim when he was finished the second time. “I don’t think I should use this letter for the article after all. It might cause some trouble we don’t need. A few years ago there was an unfortunate rumor fanned by TV talk shows that associated Prozac with violence. It was a problem until it was debunked statistically. I don’t want anything like that to happen to Ultra.”

“If the unaltered alkaloid caused violence, it had to have been the same side chain that caused the hallucinations,” Gloria said. “You could mention that in the article.”

“Why take the chance?” Edward said. “I don’t want to give some rabid journalist even a tidbit that might raise the specter of violence.”

“Perhaps the concern for violence should be included in the clinical protocols,” Kim suggested. “Then if the question ever were to arise, you’d already have data.”

“You know, that’s a damn good idea,” Gloria said.

For several minutes the group favorably discussed Kim’s suggestion. Encouraged that people were listening to her, she suggested they should include short-term-memory lapses as well. To make her case she cited Edward’s recent episodes.

Edward laughed good-naturedly along with everyone else. “So what if I brush my teeth twice?” he said, bringing on more laughter.

“I think including short-term-memory loss in the clinical protocols is an equally good idea as including violence,” Curt said. “David’s been similarly forgetful. I’ve noticed, since we’re immediate neighbors in the castle.”

“You should talk,” David said with a chuckle. He then told the group that just the night before, Curt had called his girlfriend twice because he’d forgotten he’d called her the first time.

“I bet that went over well with her,” Gloria said.

Curt gave David a playful punch in the shoulder. “The only reason you noticed was because you’d done the exact same thing the night before with your wife.”

As Kim watched Curt and David playfully spar, she noticed Curt’s hands and fingers were marred by cuts and scratches. Her reflex response as a nurse was one of concern. She offered to look at them.

“Thank you, but they aren’t as bad as they look,” Curt said. “They don’t bother me in the slightest.”

“Did you fall off your motorcycle?”

Curt laughed. “I hope not,” he said. “I don’t remember how I did it.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” David said, showing his hands, which appeared similar although not as bad. “It just proves we’re all working our fingers to the bone.”

“It’s the pressure of working nineteen hours a day,” François said. “It’s amazing we have been functioning as well as we have.”

“It seems to me that short-term-memory loss must be a side effect of Ultra,” Kim said. “It sounds like you all are experiencing it.”

“I haven’t,” Gloria said.

“Neither have I,” Eleanor said. “My mind and memory are demonstrably better since I’ve been on Ultra.”

“Same with me,” Gloria said. “I think François is right. We’re just working too hard.”

“Wait a second, Gloria,” Eleanor said. “You have been forgetful. What about the morning before last when you left your bathrobe in the bathroom and then two minutes later had a fit when it wasn’t hanging behind your door in the bedroom?”

“I didn’t throw a fit,” Gloria contradicted good-naturedly. “Besides, that’s different. I’ve been misplacing my robe way before I’ve been on Ultra.”

“Regardless,” Edward said. “Kim is right. Short-term-memory lapse could be related to Ultra, and as such it should be included in the clinical protocols. But it’s not something we need to lose any sleep over. Even if it proves to occur on occasion, it will surely be an acceptable risk in light of the drug’s enhancement of mental function in general.”

“I agree,” Gloria said. “It’s the equivalent of Einstein forgetting little everyday matters while he was formulating the Theory of Relativity. The mind makes value judgments of what to keep in the processor, and how many times you brush your teeth isn’t that important.”

The sound of the outer door closing got everyone’s attention since the lab got few visitors. All eyes turned to the door to the reception area. It opened and in walked Stanton.

A spontaneous triple cheer arose from the researchers. A confused Stanton stopped in his tracks. “What on earth is going on here?” he questioned. “Nobody working today?”

Eleanor rushed him a beaker of champagne.

“A little toast,” Edward said, lifting his drink. “We’d like to drink to your heckling nature that motivated us to start taking Ultra. We’re reaping the benefits on a daily basis.”

Amid giggles everyone took a drink including Stanton.

“It really has been a boon,” Edward said. “We’ve been drawing blood on each other and saving urine to test.”

“All of us except François,” Gloria said, teasing the Frenchman. “He forgets more than half the time.”

“We did have a slight problem with compliance in that regard,” Edward admitted. “But we solved it by taping the toilet seats down and putting up a sign saying hold it.”

They all laughed again. Gloria and David had to put their drinks down for fear of spilling them.

“You certainly are a happy group,” Stanton commented.

“We have reason to be,” Edward said. He then told Stanton the good news about discovering the structure of the binding protein. He gave partial credit to Ultra for sharpening everyone’s mental acuity.

“This is marvelous news indeed!” Stanton exclaimed. He made it a point to walk around and shake Gloria’s, Eleanor’s, and François’s hands individually. Then he told Edward he wanted to talk with him.

Using Stanton’s arrival as an opportunity to excuse herself, Kim left. She felt good about her visit to the lab; she had the feeling she’d accomplished something by suggesting violence and short-term-memory loss should be included in the clinical evaluation of Ultra.

Kim headed back toward the castle. The first thing she wanted to do was put Thomas Goodman’s letter into the Bible box with the other memorabilia pertaining to Elizabeth. As she neared the mansion she saw a Salem police car emerge from the trees. Evidently the driver saw her, because the cruiser immediately turned onto the road to the castle, heading in her direction.

Kim stopped and waited. The car pulled to a stop, and the same two officers who’d responded to the call about Buffer got out.

Billy touched the rim of his visored hat in a kind of salute while he and Kim exchanged greetings.

“I hope we’re not bothering you,” Billy said.

“Is something wrong?” Kim questioned.

“We wanted to ask if you’d had any more trouble since the death of the dog,” Billy said. “There’s been a rash of vandalism in the immediate area, as if Halloween had come a month early.”

“Halloween’s big here in Salem,” Harry said. “It’s the time of year we law-enforcement officers have learned to hate.”

“What kind of vandalism?” Kim questioned.

“The usual nonsense,” Billy said. “Trash cans turned over, garbage spread around. Also more pets have disappeared and some of the carcasses have turned up across the road in the Greenlawn Cemetery.”

“We’re still concerned about the possibility of a rabid animal in the neighborhood,” Harry said. “You’d better keep that cat of yours indoors, especially considering the size of your property and all its wooded areas.”

“We think some local kids have joined the fray, so to speak,” Billy said. “They’re imitating what the animal has been doing. There’s been too much for one animal. I mean, how many trash cans can a raccoon do in a night?” He snickered.

“I appreciate your coming by to warn me,” Kim said. “We haven’t had any trouble since the dog’s death, but I’ll be sure to continue to keep my cat close to home.”

“If you have any problems please give us a call,” Harry said. “We’d like to get to the bottom of this before it gets out of hand.”

Kim watched while the police car made a U-turn and headed out of the compound. She was about to enter the castle when she heard Stanton call. Turning, she saw him coming from the lab.

“What the devil were the police doing here?” he asked as soon as he was within talking distance.

Kim told him about the concern of there being a rabid animal in the area.

“It’s always something,” Stanton said. “Listen, I want to talk to you about Edward. Do you have a minute?”

“Of course,” Kim said, wondering what this could be about. “Where would you like to talk?”

“Here’s fine,” Stanton said. “Where to start?” He stared off for a minute then looked Kim in the eye. “I’m a bit bewildered by Edward lately and the others as well. Every time I pop into the lab I feel like the odd man out. A couple of weeks ago it was like a morgue in there. Now it’s eerie the way they are enjoying themselves. It’s become like a vacation retreat only they’re working as hard or harder than they did before. Their repartee is difficult to follow since they are all so damn smart and witty. In fact, it makes me feel dumb to hang around.” Stanton laughed wryly before continuing. “Edward has become so outgoing and pushy that he reminds me of me!”

Kim put her hand to her mouth but laughed through her fingers at Stanton’s self-deprecating insightfulness.

“It’s not funny,” Stanton complained, but he was laughing himself. “The next thing that Edward will want to be is a venture capitalist. He’s gotten carried away with the business stuff, and unfortunately we don’t see eye to eye. Now we’re at loggerheads over how to raise more capital. The good doctor has become so greedy he will not sacrifice any equity. He’s metamorphosed overnight from an avowed ascetic academician to an insatiable capitalist.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Kim questioned. “I have nothing to do with Omni nor do I want to have.”

“I was just hoping that you could talk to Edward,” Stanton said. “I cannot in good conscience condone borrowing money from dirty sources through foreign banks, and I’m even sorry that I mentioned the possibility. There’s just too much risk, and I’m not talking about financial risk. I’m talking about risk to life and limb. It just ain’t worth it. I mean, the financial aspect of this venture should be left up to me, just like the scientific stuff should be left up to Edward.”

“Does Edward seem forgetful to you?” Kim asked.

“Hell, no!” Stanton said. “He’s as sharp as a tack. He’s just innocent when it comes to the ways of the financial world.”

“He’s been forgetful around me,” Kim said. “Just little everyday things. And most of the other researchers have admitted to being just as absentminded.”

“I haven’t noticed any absentmindedness with Edward,” Stanton said. “But he did seem a little paranoid. Just a few minutes ago we had to go outside to talk so we wouldn’t be overheard.”

“Overheard by whom?” Kim asked.

Stanton shrugged. “The other researchers, I assume. He didn’t say and I didn’t ask.”

“This morning he came all the way to the house to make a call so that he wouldn’t be overheard,” Kim said. “He was afraid to use the phone in the reception area because he thought someone would listen through the walls.”

“Now that sounds even more paranoid,” Stanton said. “But in his defense I’ve drilled it into him that secrecy is important at this stage.”

“Stanton, I’m getting worried,” Kim said.

“Don’t say that,” Stanton complained. “I came to you to relieve my anxieties not increase them.”

“I’m concerned that the forgetfulness and paranoia are side effects from the Ultra,” Kim said.

“I don’t want to hear this,” Stanton said as he cupped his hands over his ears.

“They shouldn’t be taking the drug at this stage,” Kim said. “And you know it. I think you should stop them.”

“Me?” Stanton said. “I just told you a minute ago I’m in finances. I don’t meddle with the science side, especially when they have told me that taking the drug will speed up its evaluation process. Besides, this mild paranoia and forgetfulness are probably due to how hard they are working. Edward knows what he is doing. My God, he’s tops in his field.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Kim said. “If you try to convince Edward to stop taking the drug, I’ll try to convince him that the finances should be left to you.”

Stanton made a face as if he had been stabbed in the back. “This is ridiculous,” he said. “I’ve got to negotiate with my own cousin.”

“It sounds reasonable to me,” Kim said. “We’ll be helping each other.”

“I can’t promise anything,” Stanton said.

“Nor can I,” Kim said.

“When will you talk with him?” Stanton asked.

“Tonight,” Kim said. “What about you?”

“I suppose I could just go back and talk with him now,” Stanton said.

“Do we have a deal?” Kim asked.

“I suppose so,” Stanton said reluctantly. He stuck out his hand and Kim shook it.

Kim watched as Stanton started back toward the lab. In contrast to his usual sprightly step his gait was plodding, with his arms hanging straight down like he was lugging heavy weights in both hands. Kim couldn’t help but feel sorry for him since she knew that he was distressed. The problem was he’d put all his money into Omni, violating one of his own cardinal rules of investing.

After climbing up to the attic, Kim walked over to one of the dormer windows that faced in the direction of the lab. She was just in time to see Stanton disappear into the building. Kim didn’t have high hopes that Stanton would be successful getting Edward to stop taking Ultra, but at least she could feel that she’d tried.

That night Kim made it a point to stay awake until Edward came in just after one in the morning. She was reading when she heard the front door close, followed by Edward’s footfalls on the old stairs.

“My goodness,” he said, sticking his head into her bedroom. “That must be one hell of a book to keep you awake until this hour.”

“I’m not tired,” Kim said. “Come in.”

“I’m exhausted,” Edward said. He stepped into the room and absently petted Sheba while he yawned. “I can’t wait to get into bed. It hits me just after midnight like clockwork. The amazing thing is how quickly I fall asleep once the tiredness comes. I have to be careful if I sit down. If I lie down, forget it.”

“I noticed that,” Kim said. “Sunday night you didn’t even turn out your light.”

“I suppose I should be aggravated with you,” Edward said. He was smiling. “But I’m not. I know you only have my best interests at heart.”

“Are you going to tell me what you are talking about?” Kim asked.

“As if you didn’t know,” Edward said teasingly. “I’m talking about Stanton’s sudden concern for my well-being. I knew you were behind it the moment he opened his mouth. It’s not like him to be so sympathetic.”

“Did he tell you about our deal?” Kim said.

“What kind of deal?” Edward asked.

“He agreed to try to get you to stop taking Ultra if I would convince you that Omni’s finances should be left up to him.”

“Et tu Brute,” Edward said jokingly. “This is a fine state of affairs. The two people I think I’m closest to are scheming behind my back.”

“As you said, we’ve only your best interests at heart,” Kim said.

“I think I’m capable of deciding what’s best for me,” Edward said amiably.

“But you’ve changed,” Kim said. “Stanton said you’ve changed so much that you’re becoming like him.”

Edward laughed heartily. “That’s great!” he said. “I’ve always wanted to be as outgoing as Stanton. Too bad my father passed away. Maybe he’ d finally be pleased with me.”

“This isn’t a joking matter,” Kim said.

“I’m not joking,” Edward said. “I enjoy being socially assertive instead of shy and bashful.”

“But it’s dangerous taking an untested drug,” Kim said. “Besides, don’t you question the ethics of acquiring character traits from a drug rather than from experience? I think it’s fake and like cheating.”

Edward sat on the edge of Kim’s bed. “If I fall asleep call a tow truck to get me into my bed,” he said with a chuckle. He then had another extended yawn that he tried to cover with his fist. “Listen, my dearest,” he said. “Ultra is not untested; it’s just not fully tested. But it’s nontoxic and that’s the important thing. I’m going to continue taking it unless a serious side effect occurs, which I sincerely doubt. As to your second point, it’s clear to me that undesirable character traits, like in my case my shyness, can become entrenched by experience. Prozac, to an extent, and now Ultra, to a greater extent, have unlocked the real me, the person whose personality had been submerged by an unfortunate series of life experiences that made me the socially awkward person I’d become. My personality right now hasn’t been invented by Ultra and isn’t fake. My current personality has been allowed to emerge despite a haze of facilitated neural responses that I’d call a ‘bum network.’”

Edward chuckled as he gave Kim’s leg a reassuring pat through her covers. “I assure you, I’ve never felt better in my life. Trust me. My only concern now is how long I have to take Ultra before this current ‘me’ has been facilitated so that when I stop taking Ultra I won’t relapse into my shy, socially awkward old self.”

“You make it sound so reasonable,” Kim complained.

“But it is,” Edward said. “This is the way I want to be. Hell, this is the way I probably would have been if my father hadn’t been such a bore.”

“But what about the forgetfulness and the paranoia?” Kim said.

“What paranoia?” Edward asked.

Kim reminded him of his coming to the house that morning to use the phone and having to go out of the lab to talk with Stanton.

“That wasn’t paranoid,” Edward said indignantly. “Those characters down in the lab have become the worst gossip hounds I’ve ever been around. I’m just trying to protect my privacy.”

“Both Stanton and I thought it seemed paranoid,” Kim said.

“Well, I can assure you it wasn’t,” Edward said. He smiled. The twinge of irritation he’d felt at being accused of paranoia had already passed. “The forgetfulness I’ll admit to but not the other.”

“Why not stop the drug and start it again during the clinical phase?”

“You are a hard person to convince,” Edward said. “And unfortunately I’m out of energy. I can’t keep my eyes open. I’m sorry. We’ll continue this tomorrow if you’d like since it is an extension of a previous discussion. Right now I have to go to bed.”

Edward bent over, gave Kim a kiss on her cheek, and then walked unsteadily out of her room. She heard him moving about his bedroom for only a few minutes. Then she heard the deep heavy respiration of someone already fast asleep.

Amazed at the rapidity of the transformation, Kim got out of bed. After slipping on her robe, she walked through the connecting hall to Edward’s bedroom. A trail of discarded clothes led across the room, and Edward was spread-eagled on top of his bed, clothed only in his underwear. Just as what happened Sunday night, his bedside lamp was still on.

Kim walked to the light and switched it off. Standing next to him, she was amazed at how loud his snoring was. She wondered why it had never awakened her when they slept together.

Kim retreated to her own bed. She turned out the light and tried to go to sleep. But it was impossible. Her mind would not turn off, and she could hear Edward as if he were in her room.

After a half hour, Kim got back out of bed and went into the bathroom. She found the old vial of Xanax she’d been saving for years and took one of the pink, boat-shaped pills. She didn’t like the idea of taking the drug, but she thought she needed it; there would be no sleep if she didn’t.

Coming out of the bathroom, she closed both Edward’s door and her own. Getting back into bed, she could still hear Edward but at least it was muffled. Within fifteen minutes she felt a welcome serenity drift over her. A little while later she fell into her own deep sleep.