Veil

'I'm not asking for a guarantee. How could you put me under to the necessary degree? Answer me!'

'Drugs, I suppose,' Sharon answered in a small voice. She was unable to take her eyes away from Veil's. 'Maybe with the right mix of anesthesia, something paralytic.' Tears welled in her eyes, and she choked back a sob. 'Veil, you seem so different. I'm afraid of you.'

'What about the brain-wave pattern? How could it be manipulated? Answer me!'

'More drugs,' Sharon whispered, 'combined with low levels of electricity.'

'And bringing me back?'

'High-voltage electric shock. Perhaps. Maybe, Veil.'

'Can you do it yourself?'

Sharon quickly shook her head. 'No, Veil. It's ... so complicated. At the very least I need to consult with an anesthesiologist and a neurologist. Then I'll need—'

'No! You're lying. You're a physician, and you've studied the problem; you're probably the only person who's studied the problem from a medical viewpoint. I'm betting you've done detailed computer simulations of exactly this situation. I'm betting you know, at least in theory, exactly what mix of drugs and anesthesia to use, as well as the proper levels of electricity. Am I right?'

Sharon closed her eyes to shut Veil out, but she could not hold back the truth. 'Yes . . . but only in theory. Veil, I can't understand why you want to do this thing.'

'I've already explained—'

'It's a madman's explanation.'

'I'm not asking you to agree, and I don't have any more time to waste.'

Sharon took a deep breath, slowly exhaled it, and opened her eyes. 'I won't do it,' she said simply. 'Jonathan is insane;

I understand that now. You're insane for wanting to try what amounts to a stupid stunt that could kill you, and I'd be insane if I agreed to help you. I'd also be a criminal. I study death, Veil; I don't cause it.'

'So be it,' Veil said, releasing his grip on Sharon's wrist, turning and heading for the door.

'Veil, where are you going?!'

He wheeled around in the doorway. His tone was calm, distant, and very cold. 'You won't do it, fine. This is a hospital. I'll find somebody around here who will.'

'There isn't anyone else.'

'There isn't anyone else who can control it, but I'll damn well find somebody who'll put me close to death. You once said I was a dangerous man, and now you say that you're afraid of me. Well, I assure you that I can be downright terrifying if I have a mind to be. I'm going to stop the first person, man or woman, in a white coat I come to. I absolutely guarantee you that in fifteen seconds or less that person will be absolutely delighted to put me in a very deep coma. After that I'll just have to take my chances.'

Tears streamed down Sharon's cheeks, dripped on the floor. She tried to speak but could only manage to sob and shake her head.

'Are you saying you'll do it?'

Another sob, then a trembling nod.

'Good,' Veil said curtly as he walked back into the room and stabbed a finger in the direction of a telephone on Pilgrim's bedstand. 'Get whatever you need. Put me at the Lazarus Gate for fifteen minutes. That's all I'm asking for. Then try to get me back.' Veil paused and breathed a silent sigh of regret as Sharon turned her back on him and walked to the telephone. 'I don't suppose there's any way to lock this room up?' he asked softly.

'No.' Sharon's voice was strangely muffled, as if she were holding her hand over her mouth.

'Anybody with a gun?'

'Not that I know of. No.'

He thought about asking if there were any personnel who would act as guards, then decided that it would be unfair to both Sharon and the 'guards,' who would be ineffectual, in any case, against the threat he was afraid of. 'All right, Sharon,' he said evenly. 'Let's do it.'

Sharon, moving like an automaton, picked up the telephone receiver and dialed a number. As she spoke, Veil experienced a sudden, almost overwhelming, sense of loss. He'd had no choice but to act the way he had, he thought, not only to force Sharon to do his bidding, but to free her of guilt in the event he died as a result of that bidding. That realization did not make him feel any better, for he now felt there was an unbridgeable distance between himself and the woman he loved. Sharon was only a few feet across the room, but he had pushed her clear to the other, dark side of his life, and he feared he would never be able to call her back; even if he survived the attempt to reach the Lazarus Gate and Jonathan Pilgrim, he had erased their future time together. He doubted whether they would ever dance.

His words and actions had been necessary and could not be taken back, Veil thought as he settled himself down on the floor in a corner of the room. He crossed his ankles, rested his wrists on his knees, and let his chin drop down on his chest. Then he began to take deep, regular breaths. He knew that more words could not heal the rupture in trust and feeling he had just caused. Now there was nothing to do but wait for the necessary chemicals and apparatus to be brought, nothing to do in the meantime but meditate and search for a calm center in himself in preparation for a journey through no time and no space, around infinity, to the Lazarus Gate.

Chapter 25

______________________________

Veil . . . ?

He is pure blue flight, a sensation unlike anything he has ever experienced before, awake or in dreams. He is surrounded by a brilliant, electric blue, he is the blue, and when he looks at his hands, he can see through them. He is his hands, for there is no differentiation of limbs, body, mind, and organs, as such. There are no fixed reference points, no sound, only the conviction that he is traveling at great speed. He is approaching death as Sharon manipulates his life processes through drugs and electricity.

As Veil continues to stare at his hand a pinpoint of light suddenly appears in the blue beyond the palm. He puts his hand to his eyes and the light arcs through him, flashing down his spinal cord. He explodes and is reassembled, floating weightless, before a shimmering white radiance that he knows is the Lazarus Gate. No longer flying, he senses that he can now move where he wants, as in his dreams, simply by willing it. He wishes to go through the Lazarus Gate, and he does so without hesitation. There is a flash of blinding light and a great, booming chime sound that he feels in his head, heart, stomach, and groin.

Jonathan Pilgrim, naked like Veil, sits in the middle of the infinitely long corridor, which is bounded by walls of swirling gray. The former astronaut throws back his head and laughs when he sees Veil. Pilgrim is whole; there is no wound in his chest, and his eye and hand have been restored to him.

They embrace, and the fluid warmth Veil feels flowing through him is at once intensely sensual but transcends sexuality, raw emotion that pierces to the core of their common humanity, an affirmation of all things that human beings, male and female, share. It is pure love. They kiss, then step apart.

'How about that, sports fans?' Pilgrim says with a broad grin. 'Some ride, huh?'

'Indeed,' Veil replies, bursting into laughter that erupts from his throat as a variety of chiming sounds that bounce off the surrounding walls and cascade down around them like sparks. 'I've never taken that particular route, but I've been here before.'

'Of course. Now you can understand why I got just a little bit excited when I saw the work that you and Perry were doing.'

'Yes.'

'I've been kind of hanging around here waiting for you to show up.'

'I know. How do you control it?'

'Haven't got the slightest idea, my friend. It just seemed like a good idea, so I decided to do it. I guess second-time visitors accumulate a certain amount of long-term credit here, if you will. I feel like I can stay or go back, as I choose. I could have come back and told you about this place.'

'I already knew about this place.'