Veil

started dying. I've shared a few of my general speculations with Sharon, but that's all. She's always believed that the sighting of the Lazarus Gate is attributable to trauma and brain chemistry run amok in some people. She's certainly interested in the aftereffects of the near-death experience in Lazarus People, but she believes it's strictly a psychological phenomenon. Of course, she's standing over us right now, worried as hell, but she's convinced that we're stone-unconscious.'

'I'm not so sure,' Veil says thoughtfully. 'Seeing the Lazarus Gate pattern on the monitor next to your bed may have made a believer out of her.' He pauses, laughs. 'Also, you've got the silliest grin on your face I've ever seen.'

Pilgrim grunts. 'Do I? Well, you'll have some stories to tell Dr. Solow, won't you?'

'Ibber suspected big things, obviously,' Veil says seriously.

'Oh, yes. I'm sure that the hospice and what Sharon was doing in near-death studies has been uppermost in Ibber's mind from the very first day he reported for work, and his bosses must have hit the ceiling when I wouldn't grant him access to the hospice. His job had no connection with what Sharon was doing, so he couldn't argue the matter. But he had to have been pissed. Monitoring near-death studies would have been his number-one priority.'

'Why so?'

'Both the Russians and Americans have always been officially interested in parapsychology, which is a category near-death studies fits into. Our Navy at one time funded a study to see if it was possible to communicate telepathically with submarine crews. But the Americans have always been unenthusiastic dabblers compared with the Russians. The

American government has never shown the slightest interest in Sharon's work.'

Once again Veil thinks of the marked caves in the mountain and the hundreds of man-hours, undoubtedly expended on Ibber's orders, it must have taken to find the route to the hospice. 'The Russians are certainly interested.'

'Sure they are.'

'The Russians must have a near-death studies program of their own.'

'If they do, they've kept it a secret. But they certainly have thousands of individuals who've had a near-death experience, and the changes that take place in what we call Lazarus People wouldn't have gone unnoticed. It's impossible to say what they make of it, or what they've done about it.'

'Maybe they've already sent somebody through the Lazarus Gate—or two people at once, like us.'

'I doubt it. We've interviewed Lazarus People from all over the world, and I'm the only person I know of who's actually gone through the gate, seen what's here, and then come back. Then there's you, with your dream-paintings. The Russians don't have you. Indeed, you may be absolutely unique—and you proved to be the necessary catalyst. You have to know— or strongly suspect—that something is there before you search for it, especially if the search carries a strong risk of death. I doubt that the Russians would have risked killing people just because some individuals reported seeing a portal of light and felt terrific about it.'

'But the Russians must be interested in more than the changes; they do suspect there's something here.'

'Obviously. Otherwise, Ibber would have been as disinterested as Parker. They want to know what the military or population-control applications may be. They're fools.'

'Why fools, Jonathan? My guess is that this experience transcends time and distance; if someone else from anywhere in the world were to be sent through the Lazarus Gate at this moment, we'd have company. And communication here transcends language. We're communicating with pure thought, which we happen to hear as music. It seems to me that the espionage capabilities look pretty damn good.'

Pilgrim laughs and shakes his head. 'You still talk like a detective, and you still don't get it.'

'Get what?'

'You're not a Lazarus Person, Veil, so you don't feel precisely what Lazarus People feel, and you don't know what they know. Still, I don't think that anyone has ever been able to control or manipulate you. Well, Lazarus People can't be manipulated, because this experience brands a message very deep into the heart and soul. The message is that we—all of humankind—are one, literally. Birth and death are parentheses around lives that should be as happy, full of meaningful challenge, and as free from pain as possible. That's all. Everything else is an illusion.'

'War isn't an illusion, Jonathan. Neither are bullets, bombs, torture, and a few thousand other things I could mention, including bad guys like Henry Ibber.'

'Those things aren't illusions, but the assumptions that lead to their creation and use are. You don't shoot off your foot because it's infected, and you don't shoot off your neighbor's foot because your foot is infected. A Lazarus Person—any Lazarus Person, of whatever race or nationality—understands that his neighbor's foot is his foot, and he won't cooperate in any activity that is hostile to other human beings. You don't accept that, do you?'

'I accept what you tell me about Lazarus People, because you should know,' Veil replies evenly. 'I don't agree with your thinking.'

'You behave as if you do.'

'No, I don't. That's your illusion, Jonathan. I leave people alone if they leave me— and the people I care for—alone, but I assure you that I will shoot Henry Ibber's ass dead if and when I find him. And I won't confuse his ass with mine.'

Pilgrim shrugs. 'As I said, you're unique. It amazes me that you've been here so many times, and yet you still don't feel the oneness of human beings.'

'All my life I've felt alone, Jonathan. What I've discovered in the last few days is an intense friendship with you and Sharon, and with Perry Tompkins. But Ibber's not my friend, any more than his ass is my ass. You see every human as being a part of some single, great organism or entity; I see every human as being essentially alone. That's the difference in our viewpoints.'

'So be it,' Pilgrim says with a sigh. 'Anyway, speaking of Ibber, whatever he and the Russians may have thought we were up to, or were afraid we were up to, he sure as hell got an earful at that meeting you called. For the first time, he understood how important you were to me—in a way he'd never suspected. He saw that you were a catalyst, understood that you were the key to all sorts of mysteries the Russians were trying to solve. And he'd almost knocked you off.'

'I'm sorry about that meeting, Jonathan.'

'What's to be sorry about?'

'It brought matters to a head, and it eventually got you shot.'

'Ah, but you're here and we're having this little musical chat as a result of that meeting. Who knows if I'd ever have gotten you to cooperate with me if Ibber hadn't reached the wrong conclusions, jumped the gun, and sent his man after you? Unexpected events and disrupted plans can often provide their own rich rewards.'

'Indeed,' Veil says softly as he thinks of Sharon. Suddenly he feels sadness soaking into his ecstasy like a stain.

'After that meeting, Ibber was probably tempted to shoot himself for screwing up my plans, which he could have monitored. But it was too late, Now you were trying to flush him out, and he may have known that I was suspicious of him. We had ourselves one very nervous KGB operative; if, with you, I was able to put something important together that he couldn't monitor, it would be his own damn fault.'

Veil nods. 'So he became defensive; his attention shifted to making certain that you couldn't use me for whatever experiments you had in mind. The possibility of you making some kind of breakthrough that he didn't know about was an outcome he couldn't afford.'

'That sounds right.'

'It's why he was so anxious to have me die in the compound.' Veil pauses and again feels his spine stiffen. 'It's why he'll eventually come here, to the hospice, if he isn't on his way back to Moscow.'

'Let's hope your fifteen minutes are up soon,' Pilgrim says easily. His eyes are half closed now, and he seems unconcerned. 'I know you're anxious to get back and tend to all your illusions.'

'Yes.'

It is some time before Pilgrim speaks again. His eyes remain half closed, and he appears sleepy. 'If you already knew that Henry was the bad guy, as you put it, why did you come here?'