The Fifth Profession

“We've been brainwashed?”

“No,” Santizo said. “ ‘Brainwashed’ is a crude expression that originated during the Korean War and is used to describe the process by which a prisoner can be forced to surrender deeply held political convictions. The methodology originated in the USSR, based upon Pavlov's theories of stimulus and response. Subject a prisoner to relentless pain, break his spirit, then offer him a reward if he'll agree to denounce the country he loves. Well, as we know, a few soldiers did succumb. The miracle is that more did not. Especially when psychosuggestive drugs are added to Pavlov's theory of conditioning. But if you've seen newsreels from the fifties, you know that prisoners who were conditioned always looked as if they'd been conditioned. Gaunt features. Shaky hands. Glazed eyes. Their confession of war crimes wasn't convincing. You two show none of those symptoms. You're frightened, yes. But you're functional. What's more, no attitudinal changes seem to have occurred. Your identity remains intact. You're still determined to protect. No, you haven't been conditioned. Your problem isn't directed toward the future. It's not anything you might have been programmed to do. It's what happened to you in the past. Or what didn'thappen. And what really happened that you don't recall.”

“Then why was this done to us?” Savage asked.

“Why? The only answer I can suggest-”

The phone rang. Santizo picked it up. “Hello?” He suddenly listened intensely, his face becoming more grave. “I'll be there at once.”

He set down the phone. “An emergency. I'm due in OR right away.” Standing, he turned toward a wall of bookshelves. “Here. Some standard texts. Young's Programs of the Brain, Baddeley's The Psychology of Memory, Horn's Memory, Imprinting, and the Brain. Study them. Call my secretary tomorrow. She'll arrange a time for us to meet again. I really have to go.”

As Santizo hurried toward the door, Akira surged from his chair. “But you started to tell us why you thought-”

“You were given false memories?” Santizo pivoted. “No. I can't imagine. What I meant to say was the only person who'd know is whoever performed the procedure.”

6

They managed to get a room in a hotel near the hospital. The setting sun was obscured by smog. After ordering room service-fish and rice for Akira, steak and fries for Savage and Rachel-they each took a book and read in silence.

When their food arrived, they used the distraction of what Savage called “refueling” to talk.

“The medical terms are difficult for me to interpret,” Akira said. “My knowledge of English, I'm embarrassed to confess, has limitations.”

“No,” Rachel said, “your English is perfect. For what it's worth, these medical terms might as well be Japanese to me.”

“I appreciate the compliment. You're very gracious. Arigato,”Akira said. “That means…?”

“Thank you.”

“And what should I say in return? What's the equivalent of…?”

“ ‘You're welcome’? I'll make it simple. Domo arigato.A rough translation-‘thank youvery much.’ “

“Exactly,” Rachel said.“Domo arigato.”

Akira smiled, despite his melancholy eyes.

“Well,” Savage said, “while the two of you are having a cultural exchange-”

“Don't get grumpy,” Rachel told him.

Savage studied her, admiredher, and couldn't help smiling. “I guess that's how I sound. But I thinkI understand a part of this book, and it scares me.”

Rachel and Akira came to attention.

“Memory's more complicated than I realized. Not just that no one's really sure how the neurons in our brain store information. But what about the implication of what it meansto be able to remember? That's what scares me.” Savage's head throbbed. “We think of memory as a mental record of the past. The trouble is the past, by definition, doesn't exist. It's a phantom of what used to be the present. And it isn't just what happened a year ago, last month, or yesterday. It's twenty minutes ago. It's an instantago. What I'm saying is already in the past, in our memories.”

Rachel and Akira waited.

“This book has a theory that when we see an apple fall from a tree, when we hear it land, when we pick it up, smell it, and taste it, we're not experiencing those sensations simultaneously with the events. There's a time lag- let's say a millionth of a second-before the sense impulses reach the brain. By the time we register the taste of the apple, what we think is the present is actually the past. That lag would explain deja vu. We enter a room and feel eerily convinced we've been there before, though we haven't. Why? Because of the millionth of a second it takes the brain to receive a transmission from the eyes and tell us what we're seeing. If the two hemispheres of the brain are temporarily out of sync, one side of the brain receives the transmission slightly before the other. We see the room twice. We think the sensation happened before because it did Not in the distant past, however. Instead, a fraction of an instant before, one side of the brain received what the other side later received.”

“But our problem isn't deja vu-it's jamais vu” Akira said. “Why are you disturbed by what you just read?”

“Because I can't be sure of the present, let alone the past. Because there is no present, at least as far as my brain's concerned. Everything it tells me is a delayed reaction.”

“That may be true,” Rachel said. “But for practical purposes, even with the time lag, what we perceive might as well be the present. You've got a big enough problem without exaggerating it.”

“Am I exaggerating? I'm scared because I thought I was struggling with false memories someone implanted in my brain six months ago. But was it six months ago? How do I know the operation didn't happen much more recently? How can I be sure of what occurred yesterday or even this morning?” Savage turned to Rachel. “In France, when you learned about our pseudonyms and the cover stories we had to invent, you said it seemed that everything about us was a lie. In a way I never imagined, maybe you're right. How many false memories do I have? How do I know who I am? How can I be sure that you and Akira are what you seem? Suppose you're actors hired to trick me and reinforce my delusions.”

“But obviously we're not,” Akira said. “We've been through too much together. Rachel's rescue. The escape in the helicopter. The ferry out of Greece. The vans that tried to intercept us in France.”

“My point is maybe none of it happened. My false memories might have begun today. My entire background-everything about me-might be a lie I'm not aware of! Did I ever meet Rachel's sister? Is Graham really dead?”

“Keep thinking like that,” Akira said, “and you'll go crazy.”

“Right,” Savage said. “That's what I mean-I'm scared. I feel like I'm seeing through a haze, like the floor's unsteady, like I'm in an elevator that's falling. Total disorientation. I've based my identity on protecting people. But how can I protect myselffrom my mind?”

Rachel put an arm around him. “You've got to believe we're not actors. We're all you have. Trust us.”

“Trust you? I don't even trust myself.”

7