Mindbend

CHAPTER 13

Adam heard the voice calling Dr. Smyth but ignored it. The name had nothing to do with him, and he preferred remaining immobile. Then someone grasped his arm and with great effort he opened his eyes.

“My glasses,” said Adam, surprised to find he was slurring his words.

Slowly and carefully he swung his feet over the side of the bunk and groped around on the night table. His hand hit the glasses and knocked them on the floor. Reaching over to pick them up, he suddenly remembered he was Dr. Smyth.

The steward handed him a glass of water.

“Thank you,” said Adam, puzzled.

Then the steward held out another one of the yellow capsules. Without hesitating, Adam took it and put it into his mouth. But as he had done the day before, he didn’t swallow it, taking a little water instead.

Satisfied, the steward took the glass into the bathroom. Adam slipped the capsule from his mouth.

“Excuse me,” he said, his words much clearer. “What are these yellow pills?”

“They are to relax you,” the steward said in his oddly mechanical voice.

“Hey,” said Adam. “I am relaxed. A little seasick maybe, but relaxed. Wouldn’t it be better if you gave me something for my stomach?”

“The yellow pills are to make you more relaxed and receptive,” the steward said, opening the door.

“Receptive to what?” called Adam.

“To instructions,” said the steward as he pulled the door closed.

Adam got up feeling unusually tired and weak. He’d had no idea that seasickness could be so debilitating. Forcing himself into the bathroom, he showered and dressed, still puzzling over the steward’s comment.

On his way to breakfast, he decided to see if Alan were up. This time, instead of knocking, he just turned the knob and the door swung open.

Alan was still stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and even.

“Alan,” called Adam. Slowly the man’s eyes fluttered open, only to close again. Adam bent down and gently lifted Alan’s eyelids. At first, all he saw was sclera, but then the corneas descended and seemed to focus.

“Wake up,” said Adam. He took his hands from Alan’s eyes and, grabbing his shoulders, pulled him into a sitting position.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

“Nothing,” said Alan in a flat voice that reminded Adam of the steward’s. “I’m just tired. Let me sleep.” He started to sag backward, but Adam caught him.

“Tell me,” demanded Adam. “What is your name?”

“Alan Jackson.”

“Where are you?” asked Adam.

“I’m on an Arolen cruise.” Alan spoke with no inflection whatsoever.

“What month is this?”

“June,” said Alan.

“Raise your right hand,” said Adam.

Dutifully, Alan raised his right hand. He was like an automaton or a patient under heavy sedation. In fact, he reminded Adam of his patient with tardive dyskinesia. When the man had first come into the hospital, he’d been so heavily medicated that he’d slept around the clock, although if aroused he’d been oriented to time and place.

Adam allowed Alan to slump back onto his bed. After watching him for a moment or two, he returned to his own stateroom. Closing the door, Adam felt really afraid for the first time. Alan had been drugged. There was little doubt of that.

Obviously, the yellow pills were some kind of tranquilizer. All at once Adam recalled how drowsy he’d felt when the steward had awakened him. He had attributed his condition to the aftermath of seasickness, but maybe he, too, had been drugged. Yet how could that have happened? He hadn’t taken the yellow pills and what little dinner he’d eaten he’d vomited almost immediately. Maybe it was the water.

Adam went into the bathroom and filled his glass. It had no smell. Gingerly, he tasted it. It had a chemical flavor, but that could be from chlorination. Dumping it down the drain, Adam decided to go to breakfast.

The dining room held no trace of last night’s raucous party. A buffet had been set up in the center of the room with an impressive array of food. People were lined up, patiently awaiting their turn. Adam strolled among the tables and looked for Ned and Clair but didn’t see them.

His stomach not only felt better, he was actually hungry. The only trouble was, now that he had an appetite, he was terrified to eat. He eyed the buffet. There was the usual selection of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, and Danish. Then Adam saw something even better: a large bowl of fruit.

Thinking that unpeeled fruit had to be safe, he took several bananas, two oranges, and a grapefruit and made his way to an empty table. Just as he sat down, Ned and Clair appeared. Adam called out to them, and they came over to his table. They said they would join him.

Adam watched them go through the buffet line. They seemed tired, and when they came and sat down, Adam noticed that they hadn’t taken much food. He was puzzled. If the drug were in the food and water, why weren’t they and the other doctors in the room knocked out like Alan? Maybe it was the yellow pill. Maybe it was only given to guests on their second cruise. Maybe it was the combination of the capsule and whatever was put in the food…

“Quite an affair last night,” said Ned interrupting Adam’s thoughts.

Adam nodded.

“I’m exhausted,” said Clair. “I didn’t think I’d drunk as much as I must have. I slept like the dead.”

“Same with me,” said Ned. “Must be the salt air.”

Trying to sound casual, Adam said, “Have you people been given any yellow capsules for seasickness?”

“I haven’t,” said Ned, sipping his coffee. He looked at Clair.

“Nor have I,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, I’m looking for an anti-nauseant. I just wondered…” He let his voice trail off, not wanting to arouse their suspicion. If he mentioned anything about the doctors being drugged, they would think he was crazy. Ned and Clair drank their coffee in silence. Obviously, neither of them felt very well.

After breakfast Adam stopped at the ship’s store. It had a new supply of Dramamine and anti-motion patches. Adam bought some of the patches, and before he left he remembered to pick up ten dollars’ worth of Marlboros for José.

Back in his cabin he found another yellow capsule with a glass of water on his night table. This time he flushed both down the toilet.

The first lecture of the morning was scheduled for the large auditorium. Given by a Columbia pathologist, it was stultifyingly dull. Adam noticed that a number of the doctors were dozing and wondered whether it was because they were bored or drugged. The second lecture was given by Dr. Goddard and was far more interesting. Adam noticed a number of the doctors straightening up in their chairs. Goddard was summarizing a recent experiment that showed that fetal tissue that was injected into adults was not rejected. The guess was that the fetal tissue had not developed antigens strong enough to elicit an antibody response. The potential for the therapy was immense. Repopulating islet cells in the pancreases of diabetics was only one of the revolutionary possibilities.

At the coffee break, Adam went back to his stateroom, got the cartons of Marlboros, and headed up to the promenade deck. He waited until no one seemed to be around, then walked up to the barrier and stepped through the door. José was waiting. He had a canvas bag over his shoulder and the cartons disappeared into it in a flash. At least he’s not drugged, thought Adam, and he handed back José’s ten-dollar bill.

Confused, the sailor examined the bill, thinking something was wrong with it.

“I have a deal you can’t refuse,” said Adam. “I’ll get you cigarettes if you get me food and water.”

José raised his eyebrows. “What’s the matter with the food back there? I thought it was pretty fancy.”

“Part of the deal is no questions,” said Adam. “I won’t ask you what you do with so many cigarettes, and you don’t ask me what I do with the food.”

“Fine by me,” said José. “When do you want to meet again?”

“At four this afternoon, but I’d like some food now.”

José glanced over his shoulder, then told Adam to follow him. They walked forward to a bulkhead door, which José opened. Making sure they were alone, José led Adam down to his cabin in the bowels of the ship. It was like a jail cell. There was a shower and a toilet with no door and the air was heavy with the odor of sweat and stale cigarettes.

José told Adam to make himself comfortable, laughing at his own joke as he went out the door. Adam eyed the bunk and sat down on it.

Within five minutes José returned with a paper bag full of food, including bread, cheese, fruit and juice. He handed the parcel to Adam, who pointed at an empty container in the corner of the room which he asked José to fill at the sink.

“Do you have the same water as the rest of the ship?” asked Adam.

“I don’t know,” said José. “I’m not an engineer.” He opened the door and peered out. “We have to be careful. There are some people who wouldn’t like the fact that we are doing business.”

Adam took the hint and scuttled back to his cabin, where he opened his suitcase and hid the food. He put the two juice containers into the closet and covered them with a soiled shirt. Checking his watch, he realized he was late for the third lecture and hurried back.

Stretched out on an examining table in the Julian Clinic, Jennifer was amazed at her own calm. Deciding whether or not to repeat the amniocentesis had been far harder than the actual return to the hospital. Dr. Vandermer had scheduled her for an early appointment, and she and her mother were waiting for his arrival. He didn’t keep them long, but he looked so haggard, Jennifer decided the amniocentesis mix-up had worse ramifications for him than for herself. Vandermer’s face was puffy and his speech brief and halting, yet he performed the procedure even more smoothly than the first time. The only problem for Jennifer was that she felt her child move soon after the needle had been placed. It frightened her, but Dr. Vandermer assured her that there was no cause for alarm.

Afterward, Jennifer sat up on the table and said, “I guess I don’t have to tell you to contact me as soon as you learn anything.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “I’m taking personal interest in how the laboratory handles this. You try to relax, and don’t worry.”

“I’ll try,” said Jennifer. She appreciated the attention Dr. Vandermer was giving her, but she wished he didn’t look so serious. It made her more nervous than she already was.

At lunch Adam bought another ten dollars’ worth of cigarettes and took them back to his cabin. On his way out, he decided to check again on Alan.

The door was still unlocked, but when Adam opened it, Alan was gone! Adam checked the bathroom, thinking that perhaps the man had collapsed there, but the cabin was completely empty. Adam was certain that the man he’d seen before breakfast was in no shape to go for a walk. But it was possible he had improved, and Adam hoped that was the explanation. Yet it was also possible that he had been taken out, and the implications of that were frightening. One way or another, Adam felt it was important to find Alan.

He first checked the dining room, then the sun deck, where an outdoor grill had been set up for hamburgers and hot dogs. A number of passengers were stretched out on deck chairs, sleeping. Adam walked back through the empty conference rooms and made his way down to the gym and doctor’s office. A sign on the door said: “For Emergency, See Steward.”

Adam was getting more and more anxious. He had to calm down or someone would notice and become suspicious. He decided to go back to the dining room. He wouldn’t eat, but he’d watch the other doctors.

As soon as he found his table, he realized that the girl on his right was the brunette dancer he’d admired the night before. She was dressed in a demure suit and could have been mistaken for a passenger.

Gazing around the room, Adam spotted a number of other dancers. Feeling a tug on his sleeve, he turned his attention to the brunette next to him.

“My name is Heather,” she said in that oddly inflectionless voice Adam was beginning to associate with the cruise. She didn’t offer her last name.

The other guests at the table seemed to be concentrating on their meal. A bowl of savory minestrone was placed in front of Adam. As he pretended to eat a little, Heather rewarded him with her undivided attention. Adam kept nodding and smiling until she finally said, “You’re not eating much.”

Adam, who had been toying with his food, said simply, “I’m afraid I’ve been seasick.” It was the only excuse that came to mind.

“It’s better to eat,” said Heather. “Strangely enough, an empty stomach is more vulnerable.”

“Really?” said Adam evasively. Then as an afterthought, he added, “You haven’t eaten much yourself.”

Heather laughed a high-pitched, granting laugh. “That’s a problem of being a dancer. I always have to watch my weight.”

Adam nodded. He knew from Jennifer that dancers were obsessed with their weight.

“Would you like me to come to your cabin tonight?” Heather asked as casually as she would if inquiring about the weather.

Adam was glad he hadn’t been eating. If he’d had anything in his mouth, he would have choked. As it was, he coughed and glanced around to see if anyone else had heard, but his fellow guests just continued eating in their silent half-stupor. Adam turned to Heather. Although her voice was strange, she certainly didn’t seem drugged. Adam decided to play along. She might be able to answer some questions about this increasingly odd cruise.

“Come after your last performance,” he whispered.

“I’ll be in your cabin at eleven,” she agreed enthusiastically.

Adam turned beet red. Fortunately, the other diners seemed too out of it to notice. With a quick smile Adam nodded to her.

He went down to his cabin and hastily ate some of José’s bread and cheese. At the afternoon lecture Adam noticed more and more empty seats. There was no sign of Alan, though later on Adam caught up with Ned and Clair. They smiled but hadn’t seen Alan and had very little to say. Adam guessed they were receiving low dosages of tranquilizers. By the third lecture, a good number of people in the audience were asleep, and Adam was convinced it wasn’t just because they were bored.

At four he left and went to meet José. Maybe the sailor would have an idea where Alan might be found.

“I’d like to talk,” said Adam when José let him through the barrier.

“What’s the matter?” asked José.

“Nothing,” said Adam. “I’d just like to ask you some questions.”

José led him back to his cabin and shut the door. From an upright locker he produced two glasses and a bottle of dark rum. Adam declined, but José filled both glasses anyway. “What’s on your mind?” he said.

“Have you been around the entire ship?” asked Adam.

José downed his rum in a single gulp. “Nope,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Not all of it. I haven’t seen where all those pricks with the white coats berth.”

“I thought they lived up here with the crew,” said Adam.

“What, are you crazy?” asked José. “We never see those weird guys. They have cabins on C deck.”

“Where is that? I thought B was the lowest deck.”

José lifted the second glass. “You sure you don’t want some rum?”

Adam shook his head.

“The stairs to the stewards’ quarters are in the passengers’ mess,” said José, sipping the second drink. “The only reason I know that is because I went there looking for something to eat one day when we were in port. Unfortunately, I got caught and I almost lost my job. But what do you care about those guys?”

“The reason I’m asking these questions,” explained Adam, “is because a passenger in the room next to mine seems to have disappeared. First he seemed ill, and now he’s vanished.”

“Did you try the sick bay?” asked José. “One of the crew told me they have a fully equipped hospital. He knew because he helped bring in the equipment.”

“Where is it?” asked Adam.

“On B deck,” said José. “Behind the doctor’s office.”

Adam picked up the food José had wrapped for him. The sick bay sounded like a promising place to find Alan.

“What about more cigarettes?” asked José.

“Sure,” said Adam. “Tomorrow morning. Same time.”

“Sounds good,” said José. “Let me check the hall.” He put down his empty glass and started to open the door.

“One more question,” said Adam. “Do you know anything about the dancers?”

José looked back at Adam with a broad smile. “Not as much as I’d like to know.”

“Are they prostitutes?” asked Adam, thinking it would be good to know for sure before Heather’s visit.

José shook his head, laughing. “No, they’re college girls working for extra credit. What kind of question is that?”

“Do you ever get to see them?” asked Adam.

“I wish,” said José. “Listen, they never let us mingle with those weirdos who run the cruise. But I did see one of the girls on a beach in Puerto Rico about a year ago. I tried to get some action, but she wasn’t interested. I was pretty drunk and tried to grab her. That’s when I found out she was wearing a wig. It came off, and her head was shaved. On either temple there were big round scars. Now tell me that isn’t weird.”

“What had happened to her?” asked Adam.

“I never found out,” said José. “She kneed me and suddenly I lost interest.”

“What a cruise,” said Adam, picking up his parcel.

“What’s the matter?” asked José. “You’re not enjoying yourself?”

When the phone rang, Jennifer had a premonition it was Dr. Vandermer. She heard her mother answer and then a moment later give a little shriek. That was when Jennifer knew. She started downstairs before her mother could call her. When she reached the kitchen, Mrs. Carson wordlessly held out the receiver.

“Hello, Dr. Vandermer,” Jennifer said, controlling her voice.

“Hello, Jennifer,” he said. There was a long pause. “I’m afraid I have bad news.”

“I expected it,” she said. She could sense that Dr. Vandermer was struggling to find the right words.

“The amniocentesis is definitely positive,” he said. “This time I supervised the straining of the amniotic fluid myself. There was no chance of error. The same major chromosomal abnormality is there. In fact, the specimens were never mixed up. I’m afraid that in addition to Down’s syndrome, your fetus must have significant developmental abnormality of its sex organs.”

“Oh God,” said Jennifer. “That’s terrible.”

“It is,” agreed Dr. Vandermer. “Look, if we are going to do something, I think we should act quickly.”

“I agree. I’ve thought it over carefully, and I want to have an abortion. The sooner the better.”

“In that case I’ll try to arrange it for tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Dr. Vandermer,” said Jennifer. Then she hung up.

Mrs. Carson put her arms around her daughter and said, “I know how you must feel, but I believe you are doing the right thing.”

“I know I am. I just want to talk to Adam.”

Mrs. Carson’s mouth tightened angrily.

“Mother, he’s still my husband, and I don’t want to do this without telling him.”

“Well, dear, whatever you think best.” Her mother left the kitchen and went upstairs, probably to complain about Adam to her husband on the other phone.

As soon as she was alone, Jennifer dialed the apartment just in case Adam had returned. She let it ring twenty times before hanging up and dialing information for Arolen Pharmaceuticals in Montclair, New Jersey. When the Arolen switchboard answered, she demanded to speak to Clarence McGuire. She wasn’t put through until she’d had a shouting match with his secretary.

“How are you, Mrs. Schonberg?” McGuire said when he finally came on the line.

“Not very well,” said Jennifer coldly. “I want to know where my husband is.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know myself. He called in and said he had to go out of town because of family problems.”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?” asked Jennifer. “I thought you’d sent him to Puerto Rico.”

“He turned down the offer,” said McGuire. “And there’s no reason for me to lie to you.”

Jennifer hung up feeling confused. She’d been so certain that Adam was on a trip for Arolen and hadn’t wanted to tell her, she had trouble conceiving of any other possibility. Impulsively, she placed a call to Adam’s father.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Dr. Schonberg,” said Jennifer, who’d never called the man before, “but I’m looking for Adam and I thought you might know where he is.”

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Dr. Schonberg, “and you of all people should know that.”

Jennifer hung up the phone as her mother came back into the kitchen. She must have overheard Jennifer’s conversation with McGuire. “Better not tell your father this,” she said. “He already thinks Adam is having an affair.”

Adam was nervous. He’d been handed another yellow capsule about six o’clock, and the stewards were watching him carefully during dinner. Afraid that they were realizing he was avoiding their treatment, Adam resorted to hiding food in his napkin to make it look like he was eating. As soon as he could, he left the dining room. On the way back to his cabin he checked out the infirmary. It was an impressive setup with a full operating room and fancy radiological equipment. But there were no patients in the small ward.

As he passed Alan’s room, he opened the door, expecting to see an empty cabin. To his surprise, Alan was in bed and in essentially the same condition as he’d been in before his disappearance. Adam roused him. Alan seemed to know where he was but insisted he had never left his room. Adam eased him back onto the bed and returned to his own cabin.

Coming on the cruise to discover why Vandermer had changed his position on pregdolen had seemed like a good idea in the safety of New York. Now Adam only wanted to get home safe and sound to his wife. He remembered someone explaining to him that the reason Arolen sent the doctors on a cruise was to get them away from their usual cares. But drugging them so they didn’t know what they were doing was more than extreme. It was terrifying.

A knock on Adam’s door sent his pulse racing. He hoped it wasn’t the blank-faced steward with another pill.

“Oh God,” said Adam when he saw it was Heather.

“I’m so glad they let me off the last set,” she said, coming in and looking about the small cabin. She was wearing a see-through blouse and what must have been the shortest skirt Adam had ever seen. She did have a marvelous figure. I’m crazy, thought Adam, unable to take his eyes off her. How on earth would he go about explaining this scene to Jennifer?

“Heather, why don’t you sit down so I can talk with you?”

Heather stopped the little dance she was doing about the room. “Sure,” she said, dropping onto the bed next to Adam and pressing her bare thigh against his leg. With two dainty kicks she sent her high heels across the room.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“You,” said Adam, finding it difficult not to look down at the curve of her breasts.

“I’d rather talk about you,” said Heather, putting her arms around his neck.

“That’s what you told me at lunch,” said Adam, gently pushing her away, “but I really want to get to know you.”

“There’s not a whole lot to tell,” insisted Heather.

“Look, this isn’t a run-of-the-mill job for a young girl. How did you happen to end up here?”

Heather didn’t answer. At first Adam believed she was thinking, but when he looked at her, she appeared to be in a trance.

“Heather?” said Adam, waving his hand in front of her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, blinking.

“I asked you a question.”

“Oh, yeah. How did I end up on the Fjord? Well, it’s a long story. I was a secretary at Arolen Pharmaceuticals in New Jersey. They liked me and offered me a job with MTIC in Puerto Rico. I started as a secretary there, too, but then they found out I liked to dance, so I got this job.”

That explained the dancing, thought Adam, but not the prostitution, if she actually was a prostitute. Adam was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“Are you enjoying yourself on the cruise?” Heather asked, changing the subject.

“I’m having a wonderful time,” said Adam.

“I’m going to make it even better,” promised Heather. “But first I have a present for you.”

“Really,” said Adam.

“You wait right here.” Getting up, she went over to the little purse she’d put on the desk. When she turned around, Adam saw she was holding out two more of the yellow capsules. He felt a twinge of panic.

“Could you get me some fruit juice from the closet?” he asked. “I can’t stand the water.”

“OK,” said Heather agreeably. She put the pills down on the desk and fetched the juice. Removing the top of the container, she handed it to Adam, who palmed the pills and dropped them behind the bed when she put the juice back.

“Now I’m really going to make you enjoy this cruise,” she said, sitting on his lap.

“Wait just a second,” said Adam, avoiding her lips. “What were the capsules you just gave me?”

“It was for enjoyment,” said Heather. “To make you relax and forget your troubles.”

“Do you take them?” asked Adam.

“No,” said Heather with her high-pitched laugh. “I don’t have any troubles.”

“What makes you think I do?” asked Adam.

“All the doctors have troubles,” said Heather.

“Do you visit all the doctors?” asked Adam. “You and the other dancers?”

“No,” said Heather. “Just the ones Mr. Powell and Dr. Goddard tell us to see.”

“And they told you to see me?”

Heather nodded.

“Do you know why?”

“Because you haven’t relaxed enough,” said Heather petulantly. “Aren’t you interested in me?”

“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 ladder 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 knock,” 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.

In panic, Adam glanced around the tiny room for someplace to hide. There was nowhere. Even the locker was too narrow to squeeze into. Then he had an idea. He pulled his hair forward over his forehead and yanked the grease-stained pants down around his ankles. Hobbling over to the exposed toilet, he sat down. A Penthouse magazine was laying next to the toilet, and he picked it up and put it on his lap. In a couple of minutes he heard a key in the lock and the door swung open.

Adam looked up. A steward was standing in the doorway. Adam saw Mr. Powell right behind him and heard Captain Nordstrom, who was still protesting. Powell gave Adam a look of disgust and moved on. The steward slammed the door behind him.

For a moment, Adam didn’t move. He could hear the group noisily moving farther down the corridor. Finally, he stood up and pulled up his pants. Taking the Penthouse over to the bunk, he tried to read but was too scared the search party would return. In the end, he fell back to sleep until a loud banging announced the ship had docked. It was five-fifteen.

The next hour and a quarter were the longest in Adam’s life. People would occasionally pass in the passageway, and each time Adam was sure they were coming to find him.

At six-thirty José came back.

“Everything is ready,” he said, going over to the locker and getting out the bottle of dark rum. “First, I think you better have a drink.”

“Do you think I need it?”

“Yup,” said José as he handed Adam a glass. “I would take it if I were you.”

Adam took a small sip, but the liquor was rough and bitter. He shook his head and handed the glass back to José. Unconcerned, José tossed it down.

Returning the bottle to the locker, José rubbed his hands. “Your name’s Angel in case someone asks. But I don’t think you’ll have to do much talking.”

José opened the door to the corridor and motioned Adam to follow him.