As they went down, they passed several stewards coming up. Adam tried to avoid their eyes. He didn’t want anyone to notice that he was faking his sedation.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they went down a long hall to a pair of double doors.
“Stuart Smyth,” said Heather to the steward who was guarding the entrance. “He’s a repeat.”
“Bench 47,” said the steward, handing Heather something that looked like a credit card. She and Adam went inside.
When Adam’s eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw he was in what appeared to be the lobby of a theater. Peering over the chest-high wall, he saw a movie screen. There was no sound, but he thought he saw images of doctors flickering in the dark.
A steward took the card from Heather and without a word grasped Adam by the arm and pulled him into the theater. Even in the dark Adam could see that the seats were very different from those in a regular movie house. Each one looked like a miniature electric chair with a myriad of electrodes and straps. There were fifteen to twenty seats in each row and more than twenty rows.
Holding his arm in an uncomfortably firm grip, the steward led Adam down the center aisle. Adam was shocked to see that the doctors were stark naked and were restrained by leather straps. They all wore helmets fitted with earphones and surface electrodes for stimulation. They all seemed to be heavily drugged, like Alan, to a point between sleeping and wakefulness. More wires snaked around their bodies and were attached with needle electrodes to various nerve sites.
The steward stopped by an empty chair in the front row. Then he inserted the card into a slot on the side of the chair and started to adjust the wires.
Adam was almost afraid to breathe. He felt as if he’d been dropped into a horror movie. Glancing up at the huge screen, he saw the image of a doctor offering a patient a generic brand of medicine. The moment the name flashed on the screen, the doctor’s face contorted in pain and he dropped the bottle. At the same time Adam heard an eerie wail rise from the doctors in the room. Then the doctor on the screen reached for an Arolen product and a broad smile crossed his face. Adam glanced at the doctor next to him and saw that he, too, was smiling blissfully.
Watching the steward position the straps, Adam realized he was seeing the very latest in mind-control techniques involving adverse conditioning and positive reinforcing. As more clinical situations were enacted on the screen, Adam saw the faces of the doctors near him contorting in either pain or pleasure, depending on the circumstances projected.
My God, thought Adam, I’m in a nightmare where the doctor has become the patient! No wonder Vandermer had changed his mind about pregdolen. And to think he is in charge of Jennifer!
The steward began unbuttoning Adam’s shirt, and the touch of his fingers made Adam aware of his own vulnerability. He wasn’t an observer. They meant to wire him up and subject him to the same treatment.
Studying the blank face of the steward as he awkwardly struggled with the buttons, Adam realized the man was drugged like the doctors, just less heavily. In fact, Adam decided, all the stewards must be drugged. Maybe some had even had psychosurgery, as Adam suspected Heather had.
A sequence that condemned unnecessary surgery came on the screen. Apparently, MTIC wanted to do more than simply brainwash the doctors into prescribing Arolen products.
The steward had taken off Adam’s shirt and was fumbling with his belt.
“Do you know what you are doing?” rasped Adam, unable to remain silent any longer.
“We are helping the doctors learn,” said the steward, taken aback by Adam’s unexpected question.
“At what cost?” said Adam, grabbing the man’s wrist.
Slowly but with great strength, the steward peeled Adam’s fingers off his arm. Adam was amazed at the man’s strength in light of the amount of drugs he’d undoubtedly been given.
“Please,” said the steward. “You must cooperate.” He lifted the helmet device with the intention of slipping it over the top of Adam’s head.
Knowing surprise was his only weapon, Adam snatched the helmet and jammed it down on the steward’s head. Grasping the mass of wires, Adam wrapped them around the man’s neck, then turned and fled, hoping the steward would be unable to shout before Adam could get out of the room.
As Adam ran up the central aisle, the doctors issued another anguished wail, sending a new spike of terror down his spine. He rushed for the door, bursting into the hallway at full speed. As he shot by the guard in the booth, the man gave a shout.
Adam raced up the stairs to the main deck so quickly that he almost fell. A steward coming down reached out a hand to help, but he made no attempt to stop Adam.
In the dining room Adam had to choose whether or not to go farther up. He decided he would, since the areas below made him claustrophobic. Running past the lecture halls, he heard a series of bells. Then the ship’s PA system crackled to life.
“Now hear this. Passenger Smyth is in distress and must be detained.”
Pausing at the top of the stairs, Adam began to shake with fright. Desperately, he tried to control his panic and think of a place to hide. The various lockers and closets seemed too obvious. Besides, he’d be trapped. He continued up another flight of stairs. As he passed the promenade deck, he heard men shouting on the level below.
Gripped by terror, he emerged on the sun deck and ran by the swimming pool. Suddenly the imposing white smokestack loomed in front of him. He could see a metal ladder set into the near side. Without thinking, he grabbed the lowest rung and began climbing. As he rose from the shelter of the deck the wind buffeted his naked chest. He had gone about fifty feet when he heard his pursuers on the sun deck below. Imagining a spotlight pinning him against the white wall, Adam closed his eyes with fear.
After several seconds had passed with no shout of discovery, Adam hazarded a downward glance. Several stewards were methodically lifting the canvas covers of the lifeboats and opening the various lockers. At least they hadn’t guessed his hiding spot, but seeing how high he was above the deck made him dizzy. When he looked up, it wasn’t any better. The stars seemed to be careening back and forth across the sky.
After a few minutes Adam looked down again. Several stewards were milling about at the base of the stack. Despite his fear of heights, Adam began inching his way farther up the ladder. He estimated that he had another twenty-five feet or so before the top. Just below the top on either side of the stack were two dark openings, each about the size of a man. He decided to see if he could hide in one. Trying to keep his mind off the possibility of falling, Adam reached the openings. Within each was a metal grate floor.
Knowing he couldn’t remain in his exposed position any longer, he grasped the edge of the opening on the left and worked his foot over to the lip. Suspended between the ladder and the opening, he almost lost his nerve. It was a long drop to the deck. Marshaling his courage, he let go of the ladder and pulled himself inside the stack.
Adam walked around on the catwalk inside of the smokestack once he’d regained his balance. He had no idea what the space could be used for, but he was happy it was there. Feeling more secure now that no one could see him, he began trying to figure out what to do next. The image of those doctors moaning in pain haunted him. Now he understood what Vandermer and Foley had endured.
Remembering Dr. Goddard’s lecture about Arolen’s interest in fetology, he realized the company must have a growing need for fetal tissue. He suddenly knew why the Julian Clinic had such an active amniocentesis program. The mix-up with Jennifer’s specimen was probably not an accident. Adam broke into a cold sweat. What if they talked Jennifer into repeating the amniocentesis before he got back to New York!