The Cold Smell Of Sacred Stone

'What's the matter with my brother, Doctor?'

Dr. Charles Slycke sat half in and half out of a harsh pool of light cast by a gooseneck lamp set off to one side of his desk. The psychiatrist looked tired; there was thick, black stubble on his puffy cheeks, dark shadows around the dark, puffy bags beneath his eyes, and his gray hair stuck out from his head at odd angles. Perhaps because he was obviously near the point of exhaustion, I didn't sense the usual hostility from him.

'At this point, that's difficult to say with any certainty, Frederickson.'

'I'd appreciate your best guess,' I said quietly. 'Also, I want to thank you for agreeing to see me now. I know you're very tired, and I appreciate the fact that you're tired because of the many hours you've spent with Garth.'

'So have a lot of other people,' Slycke responded with a slight nod. 'Physically, you can see that he's made a remarkable recovery.'

'To all outward appearances, yes. Do your tests confirm that?'

'Yes. Physically, he appears no worse off than anyone who has spent a couple of weeks in bed. However, there are still traces of nitrophenylpentadienal in his tissues and in his urine, which means that the drug is still in his system. That tells us that NPPD metabolizes very slowly-but it does metabolize. We may also surmise from his behavior that the chemical transits the blood-brain barrier and forms chemical bonds with the molecules of the brain. There's no indication that it's addictive, but like heroin, alcohol, or any one of a number of other drugs that transit the blood-brain barrier and form chemical bonds, it apparently has a profound effect on mood, perceptions, and behavior.'

'Doctor Slycke,' I said, leaning forward in my chair, 'I love the man in the room back there, but that man isn't anything like the brother I used to know. That man is a stranger to me.'

Slycke passed a thick hand over his eyes. 'Your brother is showing marked tendencies of having developed a schizoid personality as a result of the chemical bonding I mentioned. The tests don't indicate any organic damage, but that doesn't mean there isn't any. He's developed a number of bizarre fantasies.'

'Like what?'

'For one thing, he insists that he murdered the late secretary of state; he claims that he shot the man down in cold blood.'

Terrific. I could feel muscle tighten across my chest like a band of steel. 'That is a bizarre fantasy,' I said carefully. 'When did he tell you all this?'

'Early on. Once he decided to talk, he spoke quite freely.'

'Why would he tell you such a thing? I mean, what was the context of the conversation?'

Slycke shrugged his broad shoulders. 'He believes very strongly that the human race is doomed to extinction, perhaps in the very near future, but certainly within four hundred years. This extinction fantasy involves Dr. Siegmund Loge, the triple Nobel laureate who disappeared some years ago and is presumed dead.'

'Yeah. The name is familiar to me.'

'Dr. Loge was awarded one of his Nobels for inventing the Triage Parabola, a mathematical model that is very effective in predicting which endangered species are inevitably doomed to extinction, and which could most benefit from human intervention. The Triage Parabola has been most useful to zoologists and conservationists in helping them to make decisions as to how best to allocate their limited resources in trying to preserve endangered species. Part of Garth's fantasy is that Dr. Loge determined from his model that the human species itself is in imminent peril of extinction, and that he then embarked on some fantastic scheme to alter human DNA-not only in future generations, but in people now living. Of course, the human species is far too complex ever to be accurately measured by a mathematical model.'

'Of course.'

'Garth further fantasizes that the two of you became involved in a protracted struggle with Dr. Loge because you'd been injected with some deadly serum Loge had developed. From what I can tell, these beliefs compel Garth to witness to the danger to our species, and to unburden himself of guilt for crimes he imagines he has committed. It's a remarkably rich fantasy-the one involving Dr. Loge-and it combines elements of classic Western mythology, as reflected in works like Wagner's Ring, or Tolkien's Lord of the Rings. Obviously, your brother is very familiar with the Ring cycle, and its various motifs. Do you know if he's read Tolkien?'

'I'm sure he has. Garth's quite a reader.'

'It wouldn't surprise me. Garth's fantasy comes complete with a great quest, giants, fearsome creatures, sentient animals, death and destruction; there's even a kind of magical sword-a knife, really-which he believes you found, and which you dubbed Whisper.'

'Garth has a remarkable imagination,' I said dryly. 'Now he seems to have turned it against himself.'

'We know, of course, the stories the music conjures up. Do you know of any real incidents Garth experienced which could form the basis for this kind of fantasy?'

'Which one? Killing Orville Madison, or doing battle with Siegmund Loge?'

'Either.'

'No,' I said in a flat voice. Garth had certainly been downright chatty with the doctors who'd examined him during the day, and he was blithely letting a lot of ugly cats out of a lot of ugly bags. These cats had poisonous fangs and claws, and letting them loose wasn't going to do anyone any good. 'What does the murder fantasy have to do with the end-of-the-world business?'

'I'm not sure there is a connection. However, your brother insists that he shot Madison.'

'Everyone knows that Orville Madison died in a hunting accident.'

'Garth says that the hunting accident never happened, that it was a cover-up engineered by, among other people, no less than the president of the United States.'

'Well, certainly no one can accuse Garth of not casting his fantasies with the biggest names in show business.'

Slycke glanced up sharply at me. 'Do you find this amusing, Dr. Frederickson?'

'No, Dr. Slycke, I most certainly do not. I apologize if I sounded flippant. It's just my way.'

Slycke thought about it, apparently decided to accept my apology. 'In Garth's mind, the murder of the secretary of state is somehow tied in with a search for an angel. This aspect of the fantasy isn't quite clear to me, and I'll have to listen to the tapes when I'm more rested.'

'What about his constant use of the third person when he's referring to himself?'

'A loss of identity-diminishment of ego and the persistent feeling that one is living in someone else's body- isn't all that rare in certain schizoid types.'

'Didn't Garth explain his angel fantasy to you?'

'Not exactly. He simply said that the two of you-yes, you're involved in this fantasy, also-were searching for an angel that the secretary of state wanted to kill. Garth had a lot of things to say about all sorts of incidents, but his method of telling them was. . well, perfunctory. He seemed to have a need to talk about these fantasies, but not to explain them in any detail; once he had said something, no matter how bizarre, that seemed to be the end of the matter. He resisted answering questions-another reason why I have to listen carefully to the tapes. I was hoping you might be able to shed light on some of these matters. Wagner's music is clearly connected to his quest fantasy, but it doesn't seem to explain the murder and angel fantasies. There must be some basis in reality for these fantasies.'

'I guess maybe I should listen to the tapes too, Doctor.'

'Surely you understand that records of conversations between doctor and patient must be kept confidential.'

'I'd just like to be helpful.' And find out just how much, about how many things, Garth had told these doctors-one of whom could be a K.G.B. informant. Mr. Lippitt was not going to be pleased.

Slycke grunted noncommittally. 'Garth has also developed a most intense empathic facet to his personality. Indeed, it's the most powerful sense of empathy I've ever encountered. Most unusual.'

'Meaning what, Doctor?'

'Your brother is obsessed with human suffering, virtually to the exclusion of everything else. Human misery is all he seems to think or really care about.'

'Garth has always been a kind and sympathetic man.'