Acceptable Risk (39 page)

As they neared the lab a disturbing possibility occurred to Kim. She stopped Edward. “I just thought of something,” she said. “What if Buffer’s death and mutilation had something to do with sorcery?”

Edward looked at her for a beat, then threw his head back with howls of laughter. It took him several minutes to get himself under control. Meanwhile Kim found herself laughing with him as well, embarrassed at having suggested such a thing. “Wait just one minute,” Kim protested. “I can remember reading someplace about black magic and animal sacrifice going hand in hand.”

“I find your melodramatic imagination wonderfully entertaining,” Edward managed amid renewed laughter. When he finally got himself under control, he apologized for laughing at her. At the same time he thanked her for a moment of comic relief.

“Tell me,” he said, “do you really think that after three hundred years the devil has decided to return to Salem and that witchcraft is being directed at me and Omni?”

“I just made the association between animal sacrifice and sorcery,” Kim said. “I really didn’t think too much about it. Nor did I mean to imply that I believed in it, just that somebody did.”

Edward put Buffer down and gave Kim a hug. “I think maybe you’ve been spending too much time hidden in the castle going through the old papers. Once things are really under control with Omni, we should go on a vacation. Someplace hot where we can lie in the sun. What do you say?”

“It sounds fun,” Kim said although she wondered what kind of time frame was in Edward’s mind.

Kim did not care to watch Edward dissect Buffer, so she stayed outside the lab when he went in to do it. He came back out in a few minutes, carrying a shovel, with the carcass still wrapped in the towel. He dug a shallow grave near the entrance of the lab. When he was finished burying Buffer, he told Kim to wait a moment since he had forgotten something. He disappeared back inside the lab.

Reemerging, Edward snowed Kim a chemical reagent bottle he had retrieved. With a flamboyant gesture he placed the bottle at the head of Buffer’s grave.

“What’s that?” Kim asked.

“It’s a chemical buffer called TRIS,” Edward said. “A buffer for Buffer.” Then he laughed almost as heartily as he had with Kim’s suggestion of sorcery.

“I’m impressed how you are handling this unfortunate incident,” Kim told him.

“I’m certain it has something to do with Ultra,” Edward said, still chuckling over the pun. “When I first heard what had happened I was crushed. Buffer was like family to me. But the awful sorrow I felt passed quickly. I mean, I’m still sorry he’s gone, but I don’t feel that awful emptiness that accompanies grief. I can rationally recognize that death is a natural complement of living. After all, Buffer did have a good life for a dog, and he didn’t have the world’s best disposition.”

“He was a loyal pet,” Kim said. She wasn’t about to tell him her true feelings about the dog.

“This is another example of why you should give Ultra a chance,” Edward said. “I guarantee it will calm you down. Who knows, maybe it would clear your mind enough to help you with your quest to learn the truth about Elizabeth.”

“I think only hard work can possibly do that,” Kim said.

Edward gave her a quick kiss, thanked her effusively for her moral support, and disappeared back into the lab. Kim turned around and started for the castle. She’d only gone a short distance when she started to worry about Sheba. Suddenly she remembered letting the cat out the night before, after she’d fed Buffer, and she hadn’t seen her that morning.

Reversing her direction, Kim headed for the cottage. As she walked she gradually increased her pace. Buffer’s death had added to her general anxiety. She couldn’t imagine how devastated she’d be if Sheba had succumbed to a similar fate as Buffer.

Entering the house, Kim called for Sheba. She quickly climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom. To her relief she saw the cat curled up in a ball of fur in the middle of the bed. Kim rushed over and snuggled with the animal. Sheba gave her one of her disdainful looks for being disturbed.

After petting the cat for several minutes, Kim went to her bureau. With tremulous fingers she picked up the container of Ultra she’d put there the night before. Once again she removed one of the blue capsules and examined it. She yearned for relief. She debated with herself the idea of trying the drug for twenty-four hours, just to see what it could do for her. Edward’s ability to deal so well with Buffer’s death was an impressive testimonial. Kim went so far as to get a glass of water.

But she did not take the capsule. Instead she began to wonder if Edward’s response was too modulated. From her reading as well as her intuition Kim knew that a certain amount of grieving was a necessary human emotion. That made her consider whether blocking the normal process of grieving might exact a price in the future.

With that thought in mind, Kim replaced the capsule in the vial and hazarded another visit to the lab. Fearing being entrapped by more interminable demonstrations by Edward’s team, Kim literally sneaked into the building.

Luckily, only Edward and David were on the upper floor and they were at opposite ends of the huge room. Kim was able to surprise Edward without the others knowing she was there. When Edward saw her and started to respond, Kim shushed him with her finger to her lips. Taking his hand, she led him from the building.

Once the door to the lab had closed behind them, Edward grinned and asked, “What on earth has gotten into you?”

“I just want to talk to you,” Kim explained. “I had a thought that maybe you could include in the clinical protocol of Ultra.”

Kim explained to Edward what she’d thought about grief and expanded the notion to include anxiety and melancholy, saying that moderate amounts of these emotionally painful feelings play a positive role as motivators of human growth, change, and creativity. She concluded by saying, “What I’m worried about is that taking a drug like Ultra that modulates these mental states may have a hidden cost and could cause a serious negative side effect that would not be anticipated.”

Edward smiled and slowly nodded his head. He was impressed. “I appreciate your concern,” he said. “It's an interesting thought you have, but I don't share it. You see, it's based on a false premise, namely that the mind is somehow mystically apart from the material body. That old hypothesis has been debunked by recent experience that shows that the mind and the body are one even in regards to mood and emotion. Emotion has been proved to be biologically determined by the fact that it is affected by drugs like Prozac, which alter levels of neurotransmitters. It has revolutionized ideas about brain function.”

“That kind of thinking is dehumanizing,” Kim complained.

“Let me put it another way,” Edward said. “What about pain? Do you think drugs should be taken for pain?”

“Pain is different,” Kim said, but she could see the philosophical trap Edward was laying for her.

“I don’t think so,” Edward said. “Pain, too, is biological. Since physical pain and psychic pain are both biological, they should both be treated the same, namely with well-designed drugs that target only those parts of the brain responsible.”

Kim felt frustrated. She wanted to ask Edward where the world would be if Mozart and Beethoven had been on drugs for anxiety or depression. But she did not say anything. She knew it was no use. The scientist in Edward blinded him.

Edward gave Kim an exuberant hug and reiterated how much he appreciated her interest in his work. He then patted the top of her head.

“We’ll talk more about this issue if you’d like,” he said. “But now I better get back to work.”

Kim apologized for bothering him and started back for the cottage.

Over the next several days Kim was again tempted on several occasions to give Ultra a try. Her gradually mounting anxiety had begun to affect her sleep. But each time she was on the brink of taking the drug, she pulled back.

Instead Kim tried to use her anxiety as a motivator. Each day she spent more than ten hours working in the castle and quit only when it became difficult for her to see well enough to read the handwritten pages. Unfortunately, her increased efforts were to no avail. She began to wish that she would find some seventeenth-century material, even if it had no association with Elizabeth, just to encourage her.

The presence of the plumbers turned out to be a pleasant diversion rather than an imposition. Whenever Kim took a break she at least had someone to talk with. She even watched them work for a time, intrigued with the use of the blowtorch for soldering copper tubing.

The only indication that Kim noticed that the researchers were sleeping in the castle was dirt tracked in from both entrances to the wings. Although some soiling was to be expected, she thought the amount involved suggested surprising inconsiderateness.

Edward’s assertive, happy, and caring mood continued. With a gesture reminiscent of their initial dating days, Edward even had a large bouquet sent to the house on Tuesday with a note that said, In Loving Gratitude.

The only alteration in his behavior occurred on Thursday morning when Kim was just about to leave the cottage for the castle. Edward came through the front door in a huff. Obviously irritated, he slammed his address book down on the table next to the telephone, putting Kim immediately on edge. “Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Damn right something is wrong,” he said. “I have to come all the way up here to use the phone. When I use one at the lab every one of those twits listens to my conversation. It drives me nuts.”

“Why didn’t you use the phone in the empty reception area?” Kim asked.

“They listen when I go there too,” he said.

“Through the walls?” she questioned.

“I’ve got to call the goddamn head of the Harvard Licensing Office,” Edward complained, ignoring Kim’s comment. “That jerk has launched a personal vendetta against me.” Edward opened his address book to find the number.

“Could it be that he’s just doing his job?” Kim asked, knowing this was an ongoing controversy.

“You think he’s doing his job by getting me suspended?” Edward yelled. “It’s incredible! I never would have guessed the little dick-headed bureaucrat had the nerve to pull off such a stunt.”

Kim felt her heart pounding. Edward’s tone reminded her of the glass-throwing episode in his apartment. She was afraid to say anything else.

“Ah, well,” Edward said in a completely calm tone of voice. He smiled. “Such is life. There’s always these little ups and downs.” He sat down and dialed his number.

Kim allowed herself to relax a degree, but she didn’t take her eyes off Edward. She listened while he had a civilized conversation with the man he’d just railed against. When he got off the phone he said that the man was quite reasonable after all.

“As long as I’m here,” Edward said, “I’ll dash upstairs and get the dry cleaning together that you asked me to take care of yesterday.”

Edward started for the stairs.

“But you already got the dry cleaning together,” Kim said. “You must have done it this morning, because I found it when I got up.”

Edward stopped and blinked as if he were confused. “I did?” he asked. Then he added: “Well, good for me! I should be getting right back to the lab anyway.”

“Edward?” Kim called to him before he went out the front door. “Are you all right? You’ve been forgetting little things lately.”

Edward laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “I’ve been a bit forgetful. But I’ve never felt better. I’m just preoccupied. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and we’re all about to be extremely rich. And that includes you. I spoke to Stanton about giving you some stock, and he agreed. So you’ll be part of the big payoff.”

“I’m flattered,” Kim said.

Kim went to the window and watched Edward walk back to the lab. She watched him the whole way, pondering his behavior. He was now more congenial toward her on the whole, but he was also unpredictable.

Impulsively Kim got her car keys and headed into town. She needed to talk to someone professional whose opinion she valued. Conveniently, Kinnard was still in the area. Using the phone at the information desk in the Salem Hospital, she had him paged.

A half hour later he met her in the coffee shop. He was dressed in surgical scrub clothes, having come directly from surgery. She had been nursing a cup of tea.

“I hope I’m not bothering you terribly,” Kim said the moment he sat down across from her.

“It’s good to see you,” Kinnard said.

“I needed to ask a question,” she said. “Could forgetfulness be a side effect of a psychotropic drug?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “But I have to qualify that by saying that a lot of things can affect short-term memory. It’s a very nonspecific symptom. Should I assume that Edward is having such a problem?”

“Can I count on your discretion?” she asked.

“I’ve already told you as much,” Kinnard said. “Are Edward and his team still taking the drug?”

Kim nodded.

“They’re crazy,” Kinnard said. “They’re just asking for trouble. Have you noticed any other effects?”

Kim gave a short laugh. “You wouldn’t believe it,” she said. “They’re all having a dramatic response. Before they started the drug they were bickering with each other and sullen. Now they are all in great moods. They couldn’t be any happier or more content. They act as if they’re having a ball even though they continue to work at the same feverish pace.”

“That sounds like a good effect,” Kinnard said.

“In some respects,” Kim admitted. “But after you’ve been with them for a while you sense something weird, like they are all too similar and tedious despite their hilarity and their industriousness.”

“Now it sounds a little like Brave New World,” Kinnard said with a chuckle.

“Don’t laugh,” Kim said. “I thought of the same thing. But that’s more of a philosophical issue, and it’s not my immediate concern. What has me worried is the forgetful-ness Edward has been exhibiting with silly everyday things. And it seems to be getting worse. I don’t know if the other people are experiencing it or not.”