Undetectable (Great Minds Thriller) (28 page)

“What?” Kevin’s voice rose in desperation. “No, you
have
to.” This was not fair. There was no one left. No one to guide him, no one to help. No one who could understand any part of what he was going through. All at once Kevin could feel his shoulders starting to shake.

His eyes were welling up.

“Jesus,” he said. He rubbed awkwardly at his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” the doctor said, his hand still on Kevin’s arm. “You haven’t slept in over 72 hours, and I just gave you a cocktail of uppers strong enough to send a smaller man straight to a crash cart. I’d be worried if you
weren’t
emotional.”

“Just tell me what’s happening.”

“I’ll give it a shot. You won’t think it’s enough, but believe me when I tell you that my only concern is your health. I’m your
doctor
. I’ve been given enough information to help you through this. But beyond that, I’m as much in the dark as you are.”

“Given information? By whom?”

Petak smiled. “Most of it by
you
.”

I’m Practically Dead

“What?”

Kevin frowned and put a hand over his eyes. He still didn’t understand.

“When you came to see me the first time,” Petak explained
,
“
y
ou told me you’d volunteered for something. A position with the government. You wouldn’t tell me what the position was, but you said the application involved submitting to a new procedure.”

Kevin put his hand down, and his eyes went wide. “What kind of procedure?”

Petak shook his head. “No idea. You wouldn’t tell me that either. Frankly, you didn’t seem too clear on the details yourself. But you had a list of possible side effects, and you told me I’d need to be ready for another visit. You also said you wouldn’t remember anything when we next met.”

“
Possible
side effects?”

“Right,” the doctor said, and shrugged. “Seems you got hit pretty much on the nose as far as those are concerned, but I was ready for the worst-case scenario. Why do you think I had that syringe all set to go?”

Kevin took another deep breath, and he tried to steady himself. The idea of piecing together information that he himself had provided was making his head spin, and he was distracted. He needed to refocus on what was important.

Like keeping myself from going insane, for example. That’s the place to start.

“Let’s talk about the voices,” Kevin said. “What do I need to get ready for? What’s so important? Because as far as I can tell, I don’t work for the government. I’m a math teacher. What’s this position you’re saying I tried to get?”

Petak nodded. “That’s the one big thing I know.” The man held up a single finger, and Kevin leaned forward. “I’m not sure if this is good news or bad, but I can tell you this much: you didn’t get picked for that position.”

Kevin blinked. He sat back on the examination table and
stared
at the doctor. “Did
not
get picked?” He let out an exasperated sigh. “Then what am I doing here? Why am I going through all this ridiculous stuff?” He pointed behind him, as though indicating the world outside the office. “I’ve got this
huge
new apartment,” he said, waving his hands to show that words and gestures were insufficient to convey the sheer size, the sheer
vastness
of his new place. “And a personal assistant. A
butler
, Doctor. I don’t need a butler, and I don’t need that apartment. Why did I move? Why do I have a babysitter? And why do I feel like one of my doormen was keeping track of me?”

Petak’s forehead may have tightened just briefly at this last piece of information, but then the look was gone. The skin went smooth. He shook his head again, his expression still calm and imperturbable. “I have no idea. But again, what I do know is that you can relax. You
don’t
need to get ready. That voice is a residual part of the procedure, whatever it was. It makes you nervous, makes you feel paranoid, as if you have to do something. As if people are conspiring against you, or as if you’re being followed. But none of that is true. You can ignore those feelings, and you can ignore that voice.”

Kevin shook his head. “It’s not like shutting a window, doc. It’s
in
me. It’s why I can’t sleep.”

“I know, but I’m going to help you deal with it; you gave me information on this part, too. It’s important to start with the facts, and here’s the biggest one: you don’t need to get ready. For anything. They told me that every applicant has to go through what you’re experiencing, but only the one who’s picked actually has to follow through. You don’t have to follow through. All you have to do is get through
to next Saturday
.”

Kevin laughed, which hurt his stomach. “
There’s no way, I can’t possibly –
”

“
You
can
.
Nine days, a
nd everything goes back to normal. Everything you’re going through will wear off by then.”

“Let me bring you up to speed,” Kevin said. “It’s been
three
days
so far
. I’m having a great time with whatever ultra-cocaine concoction you just stuck me with, but it’s going to wear off eventually. And I assume you’re not supposed to give me too many doses of something like that. Without you here, I’m practically dead. How am I going to get through a whole week and a half?”

“Sleep is the first thing.”

“I told you, I can’t. I’ve tried everything. Sleeping pills, booze, running around the park until I’m ready to fall down. And I’ve watched some
really
bad television.”

“Which is exactly why you’re having so much difficulty. Listen to what you just said: you’re taking drugs, drinking too much, and exercising to the point of collapse. You’re killing yourself. Stop trying so hard.”

“But I have to get to sleep.”

“Well, yes and no. Sleep itself is regulated by the hypothalamus, and yours is apparently scrambled for the time being. So we need to create a viable alternative. In other words, what we need is to find your
equivalent
of sleep.”

“Which means?”

“Well, what calms you down? Over the last three days, when have you felt the least agitated? The least worked up?”

Kevin thought back. He didn’t need to think for long. “When I was reading. Non-fiction stuff, studying. I barely noticed the time going by.”

“Excellent. You’ve got a bookcase in this grand new apartment of yours?”

“Bet your ass. I’m like a local library branch over there. You should see this thing.”

“Good. So every night at ten o’clock, get yourself a big stack of serious non-fiction, lie down on the couch, and just read until six the next morning. And
don’t move
, except to turn the pages or pick up another book. Your body needs an extended period of very low metabolism to recover each day, and that’s what we’re going to give it. This isn’t a perfect solution, but it’ll be good enough. Set an alarm so that you know when you’re done. Scheduling and consistency, those are the key things.”

Kevin was nodding slowly now. He could picture doing what the doctor was advising. It made sense. In fact, he felt foolish for not having used exactly this strategy on his own. “And I should stop exercising?”

“No. But don’t overdo it. Be
normal
, or as normal as possible. The symptoms you’re experiencing are shoving you around, and that’s understandable. But it’s your job to shove back. Force your life into a routine, an ordinary rhythm. Eat, go to work, talk to friends, exercise, watch a little bit of television, and rest – or in your case, read – and then repeat.”

“I think I can do that.”

“Of course you can. And ignore those voices, but don’t worry if they’re still bugging you. Remember that your only job is to stick to the routine. You don’t have to get ready for anything; you just have to make it through to the end of next week.”

Kevin nodded again. He took a slow breath, and then he stood up carefully from the examination table. “How long until the stuff in that needle wears off?”

“You’ve got maybe another hour and a half. But don’t push it.”

“One errand back at school,” Kevin said. “Then back home to read on the couch. Promise.”

“All right. Call me again if you need anything else. But I think you’re going to be fine.” He wrinkled his nose. “And incidentally, that odor problem will fix itself once you’ve gotten some rest. Your chemistry’s a little out of whack at the moment, is all.”

Kevin put his hand out. “Thanks for the help.”

“My pleasure.”

“And… do you have my insurance information already?”

Petak startled him by laughing. “Kevin, I don’t take insurance. Ever. You’re my
only
patient at the moment, and you paid in advance. Two months ago, as a matter of fact.”

Just like with Andrew
, Kevin thought ruefully.
I’m really throwing my money around.

“How much?”

Petak smiled and shook his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said. He made a shooing motion with his hands, ushering Kevin out of the office.

“Well, but approximately how much – ”

“You do
not
want to know,” Petak repeated. “I don’t want you passing out before you get home. ”

“That bad?”

“Worse.”

“But I can call you again if I need to?”

“Kevin, you can come see me once a week until your fortieth birthday if you want.”

Kevin put his head into his hands for a moment. He had heard enough. He left the office, walked through the lobby and out on to the street, and he was on his way.

A week and a half to
go, he thought.
No problem.

The man with the chiseled face waited a full ten minutes after he saw Kevin Brooks leave the doctor’s office. Then he moved from his lookout spot on the opposite corner. He entered the building, walked through the lobby, and knocked sharply on Petak’s door.