Lost Past (7 page)

John dreamed about aliens. They were a little less than five feet tall and were a light bluish gray. Some of them had faces that made sense. The ears were just entry holes and the nose was on the back of the head near the top. Others were missing a mouth and thin. The ones with mouths varied from very thin to very fat. Their two arms were more like tentacles without discernable joints. The legs were concealed under clothing, but the feet were almost like flippers. In his dream, he felt respect, even worship, but no repulsion.

The dream was so vivid that he felt it must mean something. When he tried to come up with a name for these aliens, he had no word in English, but in
Vigintees
, they were the
Plict
.

             
Eric emailed him the three papers he published, as well as the draft of one he was working on. After Tom and Linda left, John read them with increasing disappointment.
He was shocked at what they contained, not because they were innovative, but because in his mind, they weren’t. Was psychiatry that primitive? How was it that John knew more than Eric?

             
Judging from a couple of hours on the Internet, apparently it was. He was unfamiliar with some of the psychiatric drugs used. It wasn’t until it occurred to him that he should look up their chemical formulas that he might have a better idea of what was going on. He translated the formulas into
Vigintees
and that made it easier for him to understand them. Most of them meant nothing to him. Two popular drugs seemed right, but he couldn’t find certain drugs he was searching for.
Lacrasices
, which was used for schizophrenia, didn’t appear to be available.

             
It was afternoon before John went to the hospital. He was bombarded with friendly greetings from everyone from the head of the hospital to members of the janitorial staff. He politely told people that no, he had not recovered his memory, but he hoped that being on familiar ground would be helpful.

             
Eric asked him to stop in his office for a few minutes. The office had a large rosewood desk whose surface contained only a couple of pictures, a cup of pens, a stapler, and a computer. Psychiatric texts lined the walls, as well as his degrees from Harvard and Johns Hopkins. Joh
n barely glanced at the degrees
but picked up the one of the pictures.

             
“My wife,” Eric said. “She died of cancer nine years ago.”

             
The second picture showed a family of three. A young man, who looked like Eric, was with an ordinary-looking young woman holding a baby. “You’re responsible for that,” said Eric. “That’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. It was tempting not to tell you because it doesn’t reflect well on either of us, but as a doctor, I can’t conceal this information from your past. Possibly Arthur didn’t even know it.

             
“You didn’t get into medical school the way you were supposed to. You had an online undergraduate degree with almost no lab experience. My son Larry has, or perhaps I should say had, schizophrenia. He wasn’t functioning and it was getting worse. My wife was dying and Larry . . . Well, you came to me and offered me a bargain. You said you could significantly improve Larry’s life if I would support your medical school application. I didn’t even agree, but five days later, Larry was working at McDonald’s. You can’t understand what it’s like for a father to be proud of his son saying, ‘You want fries with that?’”

             
“What did I do?” John asked.

             
“I don’t have a clue. But Larry told me you helped him. He went to the community college and he now works with computers. He’ll never be rich, but he is functioning. He married a sweet girl and they have a baby. Larry says he owes it to you, and I believe him.”

             
“You got me into medical school?”

             
“One man doesn’t have the power. All I did was vote in favor of you. You said you wanted to be a psychiatrist, and Larry’s recovery told me you could be a good one, at least that’s how I justified it to myself. But another man advocated for you and lost a great deal of weight. He was never able to do so before. A third man had an autistic grandchild who is now doing so well that people are wondering if he was misdiagnosed. I never figured out what you did for a woman on the committee, but she seemed happier afterwards.”

             
My knowledge predated my training, John thought. How did I learn so much and
where did I learn it? I was, what, twenty-five when I started medical school? When did I have time to learn so much?
             

             
Eric handed him off to Cara, who had somehow shed her responsibilities for the afternoon. She willingly helped him find a branch of his bank, where he withdrew five hundred dollars. Returning to the hospital, she helped him discover more about the current state of psychiatry. From his point of view, it wasn’t pretty. Certain practices made him think “witch doctor” or “dark ages.” He started formulating a way of teaching what he knew. He wanted to go to his computer to type it up because that was faster, but it occurred to him that he might be able to do it better in
Vigintees
. He had no idea if he typed
Vigintees
. He tried to imagine a keyboard in
Vigintees
, but couldn’t. 

             
He put his hands out to an imaginary keyboard and started thinking words in
Vigintees
, but nothing came. He mouthed the words, but his hands didn’t seem to know a connection between what he was saying and the text. He went through the alphabet and there seemed to be no place where he wanted to put his fingers. Either there was no keyboard in
Vigintees
or he never learned it.  Alternatively, he just could not force his memory to relearn the specific skill.

             
Somehow, Cara came back with him for dinner. While they were preparing to eat, he realized that he had left the pages of handwritten
Vigintees
on his desk. She didn’t notice the significance of his casually putting them away, but it gave him a cold feeling. Arthur’s kidnappers spoke the language, and they callously killed a planeload of people. John felt knowledge of
Vigintees
was unsafe and didn’t want to add Cara as a potential target.

             
“Tell me about me,” he said.

             
“I think you figured out everything.”

             
“Hardly. I went to work, I kept up with the news, and I exercised. Judging from the food in the freezer and cabinets, I cooked simple, healthy meals. I don’t even know my medical history.”

             
“I can’t help you on that, but you’ve never missed work because you were sick. I don’t remember you having a cold.”

             
“Have I had a flu shot? When was I last at the dentist? What’s the matter?”

             
“I forgot to get a flu shot,” Cara replied, obviously annoyed at herself. He kept the remaining conversation on psychiatry and didn’t have to lie when he sent her away, pleading fatigue. As soon as she was gone, he shredded the papers and wondered if that was enough.

CHAPTER 6

It was 5 a.m. and he was ready.
His money was in his pockets
and he had a bag with a change of clothing, along with his notes. Cara picked him up, using Eric’s car, taking him to a motel. Eric, Jun, and Pedro were not the only ones there. Eric introduced someone named Matthew Mason. Eric didn’t explain who he was, except by a mute look that John interpreted as an apology. John decided that if Mason could be convinced the material was valuable, he wouldn’t hinder the dissemination of the information.

             
Jun set up a camcorder with wire feeds into a computer. When the pleasantries were over, John got up in front of the group and said, “This is how I’d like this to work. Although you are recording everything I say, I want you to take notes and later duplicate the recording. Nothing gets out of this room until we are done. I think it will take several hours, but we should finish today. When we’re done, I want everyone to go separate ways and get the information out as widely as possible. I assume you all have plans for this?”

             
Mason said, “My instructions are to give the information to my boss and no one else.”

             
John shrugged. “I’m not going to fight you on that, as long as no one interferes with getting the information out. First place, everyone turn off your phone. I don’t want anyone to locate us with them.” He pulled his out and did so, placing it on a table on the side of the room. Eric did so also. Everyone else followed suit, with Mason being a reluctant last.

             
“Let me start with drugs,” John said. All the while he was talking, he was aiming at engaging Mason’s support. Eric caught on immediately, but Cara went from being annoyed to understanding. Whenever they took a break, Jun converted the files to DVD’s and flash drives. They had lunch from sandwiches in a cooler, supplied by Eric.
             

             
Seven hours later, John was finished. They all picked up their phones and turned them on. Mason started to make a call, but John put his hand on his arm. He was worried that Mason’s call would ruin the carefully laid plans. “I would prefer you not call until everyone is safely away.”

             
“I think you’re being paranoid,” Mason said.

             
“Ten minutes won’t hurt.”

             
“I can send this out immediately and there will be no need for your colleagues’ amateur spy caper.”

             
“Perhaps not,” said John. “But if you’re so sure of what you’re doing, start out with a message saying that this is the only version of the information. Tell them I trust you as a government representative and only told it to you.”

             
“That would be a lie.”

             
“That you are a representative of the government?” When Mason’s face confirmed his status, John continued. “You can correct the lie tomorrow. Or in person as soon as you get there.” He saw that Mason was not convinced. By then, the others had left. “Give it a chance.  If I’m not paranoid, it matters. If I am…” He shrugged.

             
“My duty is to report immediately,” Mason said.

             
“Your duty is to see that the information gets to your boss. How will delaying hurt that?” John’s voice was deliberately soft and persuasive. Mason allowed John to argue with him for eighteen minutes. John felt that was enough. When Mason finally made his call, John thought it was safe. He had to trust that Eric and the others got the information out. He didn’t trust Mason to be discrete about where the information went.

             
As John started for the parking lot, Eric caught up with him, laptop in hand. “Did you
delay him?”

             
“Until about a minute ago. Short of using physical force, I couldn’t do more. Why did you invite him?”

             
“Wilson invited him. I think your phone is tapped, and Mason was a compromise. I sent hundreds of people email. Most of the people were notified to download it and send it out again as soon as they got it. Four of them were waiting for it and should have it resent by now. Some of it will be posted on various web sites. Cara is bicycling to…”

             
“Don’t tell me,” John interrupted. “A few days from now, when everyone has the information
is
soon enough.”

             
“What you don’t know you can’t reveal?” Eric asked.

             
“Exactly.”

             
“I’ll drive you home,” said Eric.

             
“I think not. I think now is the time to run.”

             
“What are you running from?”

             
“I don’t have a clue.” He
forced his voice to be cheerful, but he was afraid.
             

             
They decided that John should get on an Amtrak train and head for Boston. He could get off anywhere in between and try to disappear. Eric suggested he shave his head, which would alter his appearance. John had forgotten to bring a razor, and they stopped at a drug store to buy one. There was a sign at the cash register saying that they were taking cash only because the network was down. “Yes, and no one’s cell’s working,” the clerk volunteered.

             
“How long has it been that way?” Eric asked as he paid.

             
“Maybe five minutes.” She seemed mildly annoyed.

             
Eric turned WTOP radio on when they got to the car. The Internet was down everywhere and people could only make local calls on landlines. Satellite phones worked for a while, and people found that this was true everywhere in the U.S. and in much of Europe. Shortly after that was announced, the satellite phones went down. Cable TV didn’t work either.  They continued on wordlessly, listening to the wild speculation and the continued description of the chaos.  The news reported air travel was largely at a standstill and people who wanted to travel were trying Amtrak, and all the trains were full.