The Descent

'Van Scott. It  wouldn't be a woman, would it?' Vera  asked. 'Von Schade? Ali?'

'That's it. Then you know of her work?'

'Not nearly  enough,' said Vera.

'She's a friend,' Thomas explained. 'We're deeply  concerned.'

'I  still  don't  understand,'  Parsifal  said.  'How  could  this  young  lady  be  mimicking  an alphabet  that  humans  have  only  just  discovered  exists?  And  aping  a  language  that humans don't speak?'

'But she's not mimicking or aping them.'

'Are we to suppose the creatures  of hell are channeling through this poor woman?'

'Of course not, Mr Parsifal.'

'What then?'

'This is going to sound awfully half-baked.'

'After   the   nonsense   we   just   witnessed   out   front?'   said   Parsifal.   'Possession. Exorcism. I'm feeling pretty  warmed up.'

'In  fact,'  Mary   Kay   said,   'Yammie   seems   to   have   become   her   subject.   More precisely, the hadal has become her.'

Parsifal gaped, then started  to growl.

'Listen.' Vera  stopped him. 'Just listen for a minute.'

'Bud's right,' Thomas protested.  'We came all this way  to hear such nonsense?'

'We're just trying  to go where  the evidence points us,' Mary  Kay  pleaded.

'Let  me  get  this  straight.  The  soul  from  that  thing,'  said  Parsifal,  pointing  at  the decaying cranium, 'jumped inside of this young woman?'

'Believe  me,'  Mary  Kay  said,  'none  of  us  want  to  believe  it,  either.  But  something catastrophic    happened    to    her.    The    charts    spiked    right    before    Yammie    fell unconscious.  We've  gone  over  the  video  a  thousand  times.  You  see  Yammie  holding the  EEG  leads,  and  then  she  falls  down.  Maybe  she  conducted  an  electric  current

through her hands. Or the head conducted one into her. I know it sounds fantastic.'

'Fantastic?  Try  lunatic,'  Parsifal  said.  'I've  had  enough  of  this.'  On  his  way  out,  he stopped  by  the  sectioned  skull.  'You  should  clean  your  necropolis,'  he  declared  to  the roomful of  people.  'It's  no  wonder  you're  hatching  such  medieval  rubbish.'  He  opened a  magazine  and  dropped  it  over  the  hadal  head,  then  stalked  out.  From  the  tent  of glossy pages, the hadal eyes  seemed  to peer  out at them.

Mary  Kay  was trembling, shaken by  Parsifal's vehemence.

'Forgive us,' Thomas said  to  her.  'We're  used  to  one  another's  passions  and  dramas. We sometimes forget ourselves  in public.'

'I  think  we  should  have  some  coffee,'  Vera  declared.  'Is  there  a  place  we  can  collect our thoughts?'

Mary  Kay  led them to a small conference  room  with  a  coffee  machine.  A  monitor  on the wall overlooked the  laboratory.  The  smell  of  coffee  was  a  welcome  relief  from  the chemical and decay  stench. Thomas got them  all  seated  and  insisted  on  serving  them. He made sure Mary  Kay  got the first cup. 'I know it sounds crazy,' she said.

'Actually,' Rau said quietly after  Parsifal was gone, 'we shouldn't be so surprised.'

'And why  not?' Thomas said.

'We're  talking  about  old-fashioned  reincarnation.  If  you  go  back  in  time,  you  find versions of the theory  are almost universal. For twenty  thousand years  the  Australian aborigines  have  tracked  an  unbroken  chain  of  ancestors  in  their  infants.  You  find  it everywhere,  in many peoples, from Indonesians to Bantus to Druids. You  get  thinkers like  Plato  and  Empedocles  and  Pythagoras  and  Plotinus  trying  to  describe  it.  The Orphic  mysteries  and  the  Jewish  Cabala  took  a  crack  at  it.  Even  modern  science  has investigated  the  activity.  It's  quite  accepted  where  I  come  from,  a  perfectly  natural phenomenon.'

'But  I  just  can't  accept  that,  in  a  laboratory  setting,  this  hadal's  soul  passed  into another person?'

'Soul?'  said  Rau.  'In  Buddhism  there's  no  such  thing  as  soul.  They  talk  about  an undifferentiated stream  of being that passes from one  existence  to  another.  Samsara, they  call it.'

In  part  goaded  by  Thomas's  skepticism,  Vera  challenged  the  idea,  too.  'Since  when does  rebirth   involve   epileptic  seizures,   homicide,  and  cannibalism?  You   call   this perfectly  natural?'

'All I can say  is  that  birth  doesn't  always  happen  without  problems,'  Rau  said.  'Why should  rebirth?   As   for  the   devastation'   –   and   he   gestured   at   the   TV   view   of destruction – 'that may  have  to  do  with  man's  limited  capacity  for  memory.  Perhaps, as Dr. Koenig described, memory  is a matter  of electrical wiring.  But  memory  is  also  a maze. An abyss.  Who knows where  it goes?'

'What was your  question about lab animals, Rau?'

'I  was  just  trying  to  eliminate  other  possibilities,'  he  answered.   'Classically,  the transfer  occurs  between  a  dying  adult  and  an  infant  or  animal.  But  in  this  case  the hadal  had  only  this  young  woman  at  hand.  And  it  found  an  occupied  house,  so  to speak. Now it's disabling Dr. Yamamoto's memory  in order to make room for itself.'

'But why  now?' asked Mary  Kay. 'Why all of a sudden, like this?'

'I can only guess,' Rau said. 'You told me your  mechanical blade  was  about  to  dissect the  hippocampus.  Maybe  this  was  the  hadal  memory's  way  of  defending  itself.  By invading new territory.'

'It invaded her?  That's  an odd way  of putting it.'

'You  westerners,'  said  Rau,  'you  mistake  reincarnation  with  a  sociable  act,  like  a handshake   or   a   kiss.   But   rebirth   is   a   matter   of   dominion.   Of   occupation.   Of colonization, if you will. It's  like one country seizing land from another, and  interposing its  own  people  and  language  and  government.   Before   long,  Aztecs   are   speaking Spanish,  or  Mohawks  are  speaking  English.  And  they  start  to  forget  who  they  once

were.'

'You're  substituting  metaphors  for  common  sense,'  said  Thomas.  'It  doesn't  get  us any closer to our goal, I'm afraid.'

'But  think  about  it,'  said  Rau.  He  was  getting  excited.  'A  passage  of  continuous memory.  An  unbroken  strand  of  consciousness,  eons  long.  It  could  help  explain  his longevity. From man's narrow historical perspective,  it could make him seem eternal.'

'Who's this you're talking about?' Mary  Kay  asked.

'Someone we're  looking for,' Thomas said. 'No one.'

'I didn't mean to pry.'  After  all she'd shared with them, her hurt was evident.

'It's a game we play,' Vera  rushed to explain, 'nothing more.'

The  video  monitor  on  the  wall  behind  them  had  no  sound,  or  else  they  might  have noticed the initial flurry  of action in  the  laboratory.  Mary  Kay's  pager  beeped  and  she looked down at it, then suddenly whirled  in  her  chair  to  see  the  screen.  'Yammie,'  she groaned.

People  were  rushing  through  the  laboratory.  Someone  shouted  at  the  monitor,  a soundless cry.  'What?' said Vera.