Heroic Measures (continued)

Dr. Hansen.

Walter felt a curious swell of relief at being able to identify a name with a face.

He turned his head to find an older man with graying hair studying him intently.

Professor Raynes.

Seeing Raynes there put him both at ease and on alert at the same time. Walter could not recall many occasions when the professor had looked so concerned and serious. Trying to open his mouth to ask, he found that it felt as though it were stuck together with mucilage. It felt dry as well, but he could not figure out how he would swallow the water even if he were given any.

“Vital signs stable,” Hansen reported. “Pulse still slightly elevated. Electric potential still higher than normal—for him.”

“How high?” Raynes asked.

Hansen checked one of the displays before answering.

“Well below discharge levels.”

Raynes looked visibly relieved. He gingerly placed a hand on Walter’s arm. When nothing untoward happened, he gripped it a little more firmly.

“Welcome back, Walter.”

He smiled and then released Walter’s arm. Walter barely felt the contact. He tried to return the smile, but had no idea whether or not he succeeded. Briefly, he had a mental image of his lips pulling back in a death-like rictus. He blinked it rapidly away, silently praying that his real expression had not mimicked it.

Raynes’ reaction was neutral. He patted Walter’s arm and looked toward Hansen. Walter felt better, although he wondered whether he had managed to form any expression at all.

Welcome back?

The import of Raynes’ words suddenly struck him. He was in the infirmary now, not in the professor’s cozy little parlor. That meant . . . that meant something had gone wrong during the hypnosis—very badly wrong. He felt a knot form as he considered that the professor had not simply been being polite upon his return from his hypnotic state.

He tried to remember what he had seen then, but the images that he was certain had been so clear just minutes before were now jumbled and fading. Each one he tried to grasp dissolved like mist in his mind.

Maybe I need another round of hypnosis to remember what I saw under hypnosis?

The notion made his head want to spin again. It did not, but Walter was not certain whether that was because of his improving mental state—or his own strength of will.

“I want to keep him under observation for the next several hours,” Hansen said.

Walter assumed that he was speaking to Raynes. He turned his head to look. As he did so, though, he found that he was growing increasing tired and, once again, having difficulty focusing. His anxiety must have showed, for Raynes moved back into his field of vision and smiled reassuringly.

“That’s just the sedative,” Raynes told him calmly. “You’ll be fine.”

The sedative?

But hadn’t they given him one before . . . before he had . . . done something.

Walter closed his eyes and drifted quickly into a dreamless sleep.