The Third Gate

41

When Logan entered the forensic bay of the Station’s medical suite, Dr. Rush was just pulling a green shroud over Robert Carmody’s crushed and broken body. Hearing footsteps, the doctor looked over, caught sight of Logan, and shook his head.

“I’ve never seen a body so thoroughly destroyed as this one,” he said.

“They’ve finished the preliminary investigation,” Logan told him. “The gold bolts holding the canopy bed together appear to have been deliberately loosened.”

Rush frowned. “Loosened? You mean, as in sabotage?”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps in preparation for being pocketed by somebody. They’re solid gold, after all, each one as big as a railroad spike.”

Rush was silent a moment. “What’s the mood?”

“More or less what you’d imagine. Shock. Grief. And anxiety. Talk of the curse has spiked again.”

Rush nodded absently. He looked pale, and there were dark patches beneath his eyes. Logan recalled what the doctor had told him on the plane: I trained as an ER specialist. But somehow, I could never get used to the death. Oh, I could handle natural causes all right. But sudden, violent death… He wondered if this was the right time to talk to Rush; decided there wasn’t likely to be a better.

“Do you have a moment?” he asked quietly.

Rush glanced at him. “Let me just finish up here, make a few notes. You can wait in my office if you like.”

Ten minutes later, Rush came into the office. He appeared to be more composed, and the color had come back into his face. “Sorry for the delay,” he said as he took a seat behind his desk. “What’s up, Jeremy?”

“I’ve spoken with Jennifer,” Logan said.

Rush sat forward. “Really? Did she tell you about her NDE?”

“We basically relived it together.”

Rush looked at him for a moment. “She’s never spoken of it in detail at CTS. It’s rather awkward, really, given my position there.”

“I think she needed to speak about it to somebody who was completely objective,” he said. “Somebody with experience dealing with-the unusual.”

Rush nodded. “What can you tell me?”

“I suppose I should get her permission before I go into details with anyone-even you. I can tell you that the first part of the experience was relatively textbook. But the last part-where she was ‘over’ longer than anyone else in your database-was the opposite of textbook.” Logan paused. “It was… horrible. Terrifying. It’s no wonder she doesn’t want to speak of it to anybody-let alone relive it.”

“Terrifying? Really? I suspected there was some unpleasant aspect, given her unwillingness to confront it, but I had no idea…” Rush’s voice trailed off for a moment. “Poor Jen.”

For a moment, the office fell into silence. It was on the tip of Logan’s tongue to say: There’s something else. I can’t say why-but Jennifer’s description of her NDE, of the horror near its conclusion, reminds me strongly of King Narmer’s curse. But he could not explain why; it was just a feeling, like the seed between one’s teeth that wouldn’t go away. Nothing would be helped by mentioning it. But maybe… maybe… there was another way he could help.

He cleared his throat. “I strongly recommend that she have no more channeling sessions. They’re upsetting her and may even be psychically damaging.”

“I mentioned as much to Stone,” Rush said. “He’s agreed to dial back the number of future sessions to just one or two more. He wants me to ask her about the third gate and what lies beyond. Also, what she meant about that odd tomb painting: ‘That which brings life to the dead, and death to the living.’ ”

“It’s a bad idea,” Logan replied. “And the sessions I’ve witnessed haven’t provided you with anything material.”

“Actually, the last session did. Tina Romero’s been studying some of the utterances-and she finds them to be very intriguing, given the context of what’s known about the stability of ancient Egyptian texts.”

“You asked me to see Jennifer-and I’m giving you my recommendation.” Logan took a DVD case out of his pocket, placed it on the desk, and tapped it with a finger. “Here’s the data you provided me with from your CTS files. I’ve been going over it.”

“And?”

“And I want you to answer a question-please answer it honestly. Has Jennifer been acting differently since her NDE? Is she in any way a changed person?”

Rush looked at Logan but did not respond.

“I’m no expert in such matters. But based on what I’ve read in these files, from what you’ve already told me about your changed relationship with your wife, and from what she’s said herself-not only was Jennifer’s NDE very different from other people’s, but I believe her behavior in its wake has been different from the others you’ve studied at the Center.”

For a long moment, Rush remained silent. Then, at last, he sighed. “I haven’t wanted to admit it-even to myself. But it’s true. More than just our relationship has changed.”

“Can you qualify the change for me?”

“It’s subtle. At times I think it’s more me than her, seeing things that aren’t there. But she seems… remote. Detached. She was always so warm, so spontaneous. I don’t sense that as much in her these days.”

“That doesn’t necessarily have to do with her near-death experience,” Logan said. “Those could be manifestations of depression, as well.”

“Jennifer was never a depressive personality. And it’s not just that. She…” Rush paused. “I don’t know how to put it. She seems to have less of a-a moral center than she used to. Here’s a stupid example. She was always a sucker for sappy movies. Toss in a little melodrama, and she’d be crying like a baby. But not anymore. One of the first nights here on the Station, they screened the old tearjerker Dark Victory for the crew. Even some of the toughest roustabouts were choked up by the end. But Jennifer remained stone-faced throughout. It was as if the emotion… well, as if it no longer penetrated.”

When Logan next spoke, it was slowly, thoughtfully. “You know, Ethan, there are cultures on earth who believe that-under the right circumstances-a person can be separated from their inner spirit.”

“Inner spirit?” Rush repeated.

“I mean the intangible life force that links us from this world to the next. The Byzantines, the Incans, certain Native American tribes, Enlightenment-era Rosicrucians, all had variant belief structures regarding such a thing-there were, and are, many others.”

Rush looked at him but did not speak.

“At the end of her NDE, Jennifer mentioned feeling a terrible pressure. She felt as if-let me try to recall her exact words-‘as if the very essence of my being was getting sucked away.’ ”

“What is it you’re saying, exactly?”

“I’m not saying anything. I’m just speculating. Is it possible that your wife was clinically dead for so long that she… well, that she lost an integral part of her human spirit?”

Rush let out a short, explosive laugh. “Her spirit? Jeremy, that’s crazy.”

“Is it? I plan to research it further. But one could argue that such phenomena might explain the need for one of the rites of the Catholic Church itself.”

“Oh? And what rite is that?”

“The rite of exorcism.”

A sudden, freezing silence fell over the office.

“What is it you’re implying?” Rush asked after a minute. “That Narmer isn’t just speaking through Jennifer? That in those crossings she’s being — possessed by Narmer?”

“I don’t know what’s happening during those crossings,” Logan replied. “I don’t think anybody can know, exactly. I only know it might be dangerous.”

Rush fetched a deep sigh. “Just one last crossing. To ask about the third gate. Then I’ll refuse to authorize any more.”