Veil

exactly the same words to describe the feeling, but they're never quite sure what they mean by them.'

'Mmm.'

'What happened then?'

'I didn't want to go into the hospital. I knew—or my body did—that I was dead, and I was doing just fine wherever I was. I suspected that the doctors might try to revive me, and I was afraid of that. I'd lost my eye, and my left hand had been crushed. I knew I'd suffer terribly if they brought me back, and I didn't want that. I was whole where I was, and I wanted to stay that way. So I flew away.'

'What were the mechanics of this flight?'

Again Pilgrim laughed.

'You mean, did I flap my arms?'

'Yes, I guess that is what I mean. Did you flap your arms?'

'No. There were no mechanics. To will it was to do it.'

'But there was an actual sensation of flight?'

'Definitely.'

'What direction did you go in? Up? Down? To the side?'

'I can't answer that, Sharon. Direction is a concept that had no meaning there, so I won't try to assign it a meaning here. I just went away.'

'Did you see anything?'

'A huge rectangle of light. I remember thinking that it was a gate; that was the word I assigned to it because I knew there was something on the other side.'

'Anything before the gate?'

'Just the color blue . . . a sea of blue. I was at once a part of that sea and something moving through it.'

'Did you have any sense of time passing? Can you say how long it took you to get to the light?'

'Time had no meaning.'

'All right. What happened then?'

'In the hospital?'

'At the gate of light. Could you see beyond it?'

'No. It was too bright.'

'How big was it?' 'No meaning.'

'Was there anything or anybody in or near the gate? Say, a robed figure?'

'No.'

'Voices?' 'No.'

'Any sound at all?'

'No. There was absolute silence. There's no silence here to compare with it.'

'Did you have any feelings at this time?'

'Ecstasy.'

'Did you want to go through the gate?'

'Yes. Definitely.'

'Did you?'

'No. I returned to the hospital and went back into my body.'

'Did you feel hands pushing you, or voices urging you to go back?'

'No. It was a voluntary act.'

'If what you were experiencing was so pleasant, why did you choose to return to what you knew would be agony?'

There was a considerable pause before Pilgrim finally answered.

'I was curious.'

'Weren't you curious about what might be on the other side of the gate?'

'Yes, but I knew that the gate would always be there waiting for me. On the other hand, I was afraid that I wouldn't have the option of returning once I went through it. Knowing it was there gave me courage. I decided to come back here, at least for a while, and see how things turned out.'

'So? How have things 'turned out'?'

'Sharon, I'm still working on the answer to that one—as you well know.'

'Yes, I do know. In general, how do you feel now?'

'Well, you're aware of all my medical problems. I have a lot of problems with fatigue. Emotionally, I feel . . . distanced.' 'Can you expand on what you mean by 'distanced'?'

'I'll try. What I mean is that I find myself constantly amazed—and amused—by some of the things most people take seriously. I used to be known as a man with an extremely quick temper. Now I rarely get angry at anything.'

'What you're describing sounds like apathy.'

'But it isn't. In fact, I have a much greater sense of wonder and involvement with the world as a whole. It's just much harder to get angry about anything. I think the strongest and most consistent feeling I have is curiosity.'

'About what?'

'Everything. Especially us—human beings.'

'Are there things you took seriously before the accident that you don't take seriously now?'

'Any number of things, but I don't see any need to list them. The point is that you become more curious and involved, but less emotional. At least I did.'

'All Lazarus People do, Jonathan. You know that.'

'Compiling statistics is your job.'

'I can't argue with that. Once again, there was no religious feel to any of this?'

'None.'

'Have you experienced any unusual physical sensations since your near-death experience?'

'Ghost-limb syndrome, but that's to be expected after any amputation. It often feels like my hand is still there.'

'Jonathan, that's about it for the questionnaire. Is there anything you want to add?'

'No.'

'Are you sure, Jonathan? I'm a little worried about you.'

'I'm sure, and there's no need for you to worry about me. Remember that I'm still waiting to see how things turn out.'

'You really believe that this man you've invited to the Institute can give you the answer, don't you?'

'Let's close this out, Sharon. I really am tired.'

'All right, Jonathan. End of intake interview. Mark.'

Chapter 15

______________________________

Veil? Can't you tell me what this is all about?'

Veil glanced at Sharon, who was studying him from where she sat at the far end of the conference table in her suite of offices. There was confusion and hurt in her pale, silver-streaked eyes, and she was staring at him as if he were a stranger—a reaction Veil found perfectly understandable, since he had been going out of his way to behave like a stranger. Something about the atmosphere surrounding the Institute, and particularly the hospice, was very disorienting to him, he thought. There was not only the mystery of the Golden-Boy to be solved, but also a mystery within himself— a riddle that had only posed itself since he'd agreed to be Jonathan Pilgrim's guest. It was as if there were something in the air over these two particular mountains that made him open and trusting in ways he had never before been in his life. Now he felt betrayed, not only by Pilgrim—and possibly by Sharon and Henry Ibber—but also by his own instincts. He had been wandering around in a mental fog, displaying the kind of doe-eyed innocence that could get him killed, and he had resolved that it was going to stop.

'Veil, did you hear me?'