Passage. Part 28

"Exactly," Richard said. "You can't tell me what it is because it's an emotion, not actual knowledge. Feeling without content."

Richard's theory made sense. It explained why, in spite of repeated incidents, she was no closer to an answer, and why the stimuli seemed so unrelated-a blanket, a heater shutting off, Richard's lab coat, a floor that looked wrong. And something to do with high school, she thought, don't forget that.

"But it feels so real..."

"That's because it's the same neurotransmitters as are present when the brain experiences an actual insight," Richard said. "If you have another incident, doc.u.ment everything you can about it.

Circ.u.mstances, accompanying symptoms-"

"And if next time I actually figure out what it is?" she asked.

He grinned. "Then it wasn't temporal-lobe stimulation. But I'm betting it is. It would account for the presence of such varied endorphins, and nearly all the core elements are also temporal-lobe symptoms-sounds, voices, light, feelings of ineffability and warmth..."

It wasn't warm, Joanna thought stubbornly, it was cold. And I do know where it is. And the next time I have an incident, I'll figure it out.

But there were no more incidents. It was as if being told their cause had cured her. And it was just as well. Joanna was too busy the next three days to even catch her breath, let alone remember anything. There was a sudden rash of patients coding and being revived. Mrs. Jacobson, whom she'd interviewed six weeks ago, was brought in in cardiac arrest, and there were two unrelated asthma attacks.

Joanna listened to them describe the tunnel (dark), the light (bright), and the sound they'd heard (they couldn't). The only thing they were agreed on was that the NDE felt like it had really happened.

"I was there," Mr. Darby said almost violently. "It was real. I know it."

In between interviews, she left messages for Mrs. Haighton to call her and searched the transcripts for instances of incipient knowledge or ineffability and for hypersignificance. A number of NDEers talked about having returned to earth to fulfill a mission, though none of them were able to articulate exactly what the mission was. "It's a mission," Mr. Edwards had said vehemently. "Topic upsets him," Joanna had written in her notes.

Instances of hypersignificance were rarer. Miss Hodges had said, "Now when I look at a flower or a bird, it means so much more," but that might just have been a heightened appreciation of life, and none of the subjects had talked about almost knowing the key to the universe. All of them, as near as she could tell, were convinced they were already in possession of the knowledge, not that it was just out of reach.

She did a global search on "elusive," but it didn't turn up anything, and she had to abandon "tip ofthe tongue" in mid-search because the ICU called with two more heart attacks, and while she was interviewing the second one, Vielle paged her with an anaphylactic shock.

Joanna went up to see him immediately, but not soon enough. "I went straight into a tunnel," he said the minute she entered the room. "Why didn't I leave my body first and float up by the ceiling? I thought that was supposed to happen first."

Uh-oh, she thought. "Has Mr. Mandrake been in to see you, Mr. Funderburk?"

"He just left," Mr. Funderburk said. "He told me people leave their bodies and hover above them, looking down on the doctors working on them."

"Some people have an out-of-body experience and some don't," Joanna said. "Everyone's NDE is different."

"Mr. Mandrake said everyone had an out-of-body experience, a tunnel, a light," he said, ticking them off on his fingers, "relatives, an angel, a life review, and a command to return."

Why am I even bothering? Joanna thought, but she took out her minirecorder, switched it on, and asked, "Can you describe what you experienced, Mr. Funderburk?"

He had experienced, predictably, a tunnel, a light, relatives, an angel, a life review, and a command to return.

"Did your surroundings seem familiar to you?"

"No, should they have?" he said, as if he'd been cheated of something else. "Mr. Mandrake didn't say anything about that."

"Tell me about your return, Mr. Funderburk."

"You have to have the life review first," he said.

"Okay, tell me about the life review."

But he was extremely vague about both its form and its content. "It's a review," he said. "Of your life. And then the angel commanded me to return, and I did."

"Can you describe your return?"

"I returned."

She was starting to appreciate Mr. Sage. "During your NDE, do you remember hearing anything?"

"No. Mr. Mandrake said there was supposed to be a sound when I went into the tunnel, but I didn't get that either," he said, sounding exactly like someone complaining that dessert was supposed to come with the meal, it said so in the menu.The other interviews went better, though neither of them contributed much in the way of detail about the manner of their return or the sound.

Ms. Isakson couldn't describe the sound at all. "Are you certain it was a sound?" Joanna asked.

"What do you mean?" Ms. Isakson asked.

"Could it have been the silence after a sound had stopped that you heard instead of the sound itself?" Joanna asked, knowing it was a leading question, but unable to think of any other way to ask what she needed to know, and her suggestion had no effect on Ms. Isakson.

"No, it was definitely a sound. I heard it when I first entered the tunnel. It was a tapping sound.

Or a whine. I don't really remember because I was so happy to see my mother." Tears came to her eyes. "She looked so well and happy, not like the last time I'd seen her. She got so thin there at the end, and so yellow."

A cla.s.sic comment. NDEers always described their dead relatives as looking healthier than they had on their deathbeds, with the weight or limbs or faculties they'd lost in life restored.

"She was standing there in the light, holding out her arms to me," Ms. Isakson said.

"Can you describe the light?" Joanna asked.

"It was beautiful," she said, looking up and opening her hands out. "All spangled."

"Can you describe the tunnel?"

"It was pretty dark," she said hesitantly. "It reminded me of a hallway. Sort of."

"You say it reminded you. Did it seem familiar to you?"

"No," she said promptly. Well, that was that, Joanna thought. She glanced over her notes, trying to think what she'd forgotten to ask her about.

"I had the feeling," Ms. Isakson said thoughtfully, "that wherever it was, it was a long way away."

She's right, Joanna thought, remembering the pa.s.sage. It is a long way away. That's what Greg Menotti meant when he said it was too far for his girlfriend to come.

I lied to Richard, Joanna thought. I told him I'd only had three incidents, but there were four.

She'd forgotten about Greg's murmuring, "Fifty-eight." When he'd said it, she'd had the same feeling that she almost knew what he was talking about. And that can't have been temporal-lobe overstimulation, she thought. I hadn't even gone under then. I hadn't even met Richard.

"Thank you for your input," she said to Ms. Isakson, switching off the minirecorder. She stuck her notebook and Ms. Isakson's waiver in her pocket, said good-bye, and walked out of the room.

And into Mr. Mandrake.

"Dr. Lander," he said, looking surprised to see her and vexed that she had actually beaten him to a patient. "You were in seeing Ms. Isakson?""Yes, we've just finished," she said and started quickly down the hall.

"Wait," he said, cutting off her escape. "I have several things I've been wanting to discuss with you."

Please don't let him have found out I've been going under, Joanna prayed, looking longingly at the elevators at the end of the hall, but he had her pinned between a supply cart and the open door of Ms. Isakson's room.

"I'm curious to know how your and Dr. Wright's research is progressing," he said.

I'll bet you are, she thought, especially now that you've lost all your spies.

"I must confess, I was disappointed when you told me you were working with Dr. Wright. If I had known you were interested in collaboration, I'd have asked you to a.s.sist me, but it had always been my impression you preferred to work alone."

The elevator dinged faintly, and Joanna looked down the hall at it, praying, Let someone I know get off. Anyone. Even Mr. Wojakowski.

"And to have chosen such a dubious project! Attempting to reproduce a metaphysical experience through physical means!"

The elevator opened and a portly man carrying a large potted mum got out.

"All any of these so-called experiments has been able to produce is a few lights or a sensation of floating. In not one has anyone seen angels or the spirits of the departed. Have you seen Mrs.

Davenport?"

Is she departed? Joanna thought, startled, and then amused. That's all I need, she thought, to see Mrs. Davenport standing at the end of the tunnel.

Mr. Mandrake was waiting for her answer. "Is Mrs. Davenport still in the hospital?" Joanna asked. "I a.s.sumed she'd gone home."

He shook his head. "She's developed several symptoms the causes of which the doctors have been unable to find, and has had to stay for additional tests," he said. "As a result, I've been able to interview her several times, and each time she has remembered additional details about her experience."

I'll bet, Joanna thought, leaning her head back against the wall.

"I know your view that interviews should be conducted as soon as possible after the event," he said, "but I have found that patients' memories improve over time. Only yesterday Mrs. Davenport remembered that the Angel of Light had raised his hand and said, 'Behold,' and she saw that Death was not Death, but only a pa.s.sage."

"A pa.s.sage?" Joanna said, and was instantly sorry, but Mr. Mandrake didn't seem to notice."A pa.s.sage to the Other Side," he said, "which was revealed to Mrs. Davenport in all its glory.

And as she gazed at the beauties of the next life, the secrets of past and future were revealed to her, and she understood the secrets of the cosmos."

"Did she say what those secrets were?"

"She said mere words were incapable of expressing them," Mr. Mandrake said, looking irritated. "Can Dr. Wright produce a revelation like that in his laboratory? Of course not. Such a revelation could have come only from G.o.d."

Or the temporal lobe, Joanna thought. He's right. These are all temporal-lobe symptoms.

" 'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,' "

Mr. Mandrake intoned, and Joanna decided that was as good an exit line as any.

"I have another patient to see," she said, "on six-west." She squeezed past him, and walked down to the elevator. When it came, she pushed eight, and, as soon as it had gone up a floor, five.

That should keep Mr. Mandrake busy for a while, she thought, getting off on five. And, she hoped, away from poor Ms. Isakson. She started for the stairs.

"Hey, Doc," a voice behind her called.

It's my own fault, she thought. Be careful what you ask for. "What are you doing here, Mr.

Wojakowski?" she said, trying to smile.

"Friend of mine fell and broke his hip," he said cheerfully. "One minute he's walking to ceramics cla.s.s, and the next he's flat on his back. Reminds me of that time at Coral Sea when a depth charge hit us. Me and Bud Roop were down on the hangar deck repairing the magneto on a Wildcat when it hit, and one of the props flew off and took half of Bud's head with it. Bam!" He made a slas.h.i.+ng motion across his forehead. "Went down just like that. One minute he's alive, chewing gum and talking away to me-he always chewed gum, Blackjack gum, haven't seen it in years-and the next, half his head's gone. He never even knew what hit him." He shook his head. "Not a bad way to go though, I guess. Better than my friend in there." He jerked a thumb back in the direction of the hall. "Cancer, congestive heart failure, and now this hip thing. I'd take a j.a.p bomb any day over that, but you don't get to choose how you go, do you?"

"No," Joanna said.

"Well, anyway, I'm glad I ran into you," Mr. Wojakowski said, brightening. "I been trying to get ahold of you and ask you about that schedule."

"I know, Mr. Wojakowski. The thing is-"

" 'Cause I've got a problem. I told this friend of mine over to Aspen Gardens I'd sign up for this hearing study with him. It was before I signed up for yours, and I forgot I'd told him, so here I am signed up for two things at the same time. Yours is a heck of a lot more interesting, and I ain't really hard of hearing, except for a little ringing in one ear. I've had it ever since Coral Sea, when this bomb hit just forward of the Number Two elevator and-""But you did sign up for it first," Joanna said, deciding she couldn't wait for an opening. "The hearing study has to take precedence."

"I don't wanta let you down."

"You're not."

"h.e.l.luva thing, letting a friend down. Did I ever tell you about the time Ratsy Fogle told Art Blazaukas he'd take mess duty for him so Art could go see this native gal over on Maui?"

"Yes," Joanna told him, but to no avail. She had to listen to the whole story, and the one about Jo-Jo Powers, before he finally let her go.

She went straight to her office and stayed there, looking up examples of ineffable revelations and all-encompa.s.sing wisdom until it was time for her session, and then took the list to the lab.

Richard was at the console, looking at scans. "Where have you been?" he asked without taking his eyes from the screen.

"Discussing philosophy with Mr. Mandrake," she said. She handed him the transcripts and went in to get her hospital gown on. The sight of herself in the mirror reminded her that she hadn't told Richard about the Greg Menotti incident, and as soon as she came out, she said, "Richard, you asked me if I had had any other incidents besides the-"

"h.e.l.lo, all," Tish said, coming in, waving a piece of paper. "Word from on high." She handed the paper to Richard.

"What's this?" he asked.

"It was on your door," she said.

" 'Attention, all hospital personnel,' " Richard read aloud. " 'Because of a recent series of drug-related events in the ER-' " He looked up. "What events?"

"Two shootings and a stabbing," Joanna said. "And an attack with an IV pole," Tish added, attaching electrode cords to the monitor.

" '-of drug-related events in the ER,' " Richard continued, " 'all personnel are advised to take the following precautions: One. Be alert to your surroundings.' "

"Oh, that'll help a lot when a hopped-up g.a.n.g.b.a.n.ger is brandis.h.i.+ng a semiautomatic," Tish said.

" 'Two. Do not make sudden movements. Three. Note all available exits.' "

"Four. Do not work in the ER," Joanna said. "No kidding," Tish said, setting out the IV equipment. "The board decided to hire one more security guard. I think they should have hired about ten. I'm ready for you, Joanna." Joanna got on the table and lay down. Tish began placing the pads under her lower back and legs. " 'Four,' " Richard said, still reading. " 'Do not attempt to engage or disarm the patient. Five,' " he wadded the memo into a ball and lobbed it into the trash."Jenni Lyons told me she's put in a transfer to Aurora Memorial," Tish said, knotting the rubber tubing around "Joanna's arm. "She says at least they've got a metal detector." She poked the inside of Joanna's elbow with her finger, trying to find a vein.

I have to get Vielle out of there, Joanna thought while Tish attached the electrodes, put on the headphones.