“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 Jose 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.
