Strong Medicine (68 page)

marks on her face from the animals when she was opening some of those

cages."

Martin put his arm around Yvonne. "Let's get out of here. There's nothing

to be gained by talking to these people."

As they left, they heard the inspector ask, "Now how about being

reasonable, and giving me the names of those others with you?"

"Go screw yourself, copper," the woman said.

Bentley had followed Martin and Yvonne. He told them, "Those two will go

to jail."

Yvonne said, "Oh, I hope so."

"They will," the administrator assured her. "And they'll join others from

that Animal Rescue Army who are there already because of other raids like

this. The whole bunch see themselves as martyrs. I've read a lot about

them. Supposedly they have hundreds of followers around the country." He

added, glumly, "I'm sorry. I should have foreseen this."

"None of us could have," Martin said. He sighed. "Tomorrow we'll start

cleaning up and see what's left."

7

The dispiriting task of assessing damage at the Harlow research institute

took several days. At the end, Martin estimated that the "animal- rights"

raid had caused a iwo-year setback.

From the ashes of a burned pile of papers and other records outside the

building, some assorted material was salvaged, but not much. Later, Nigel

Bentley reported to Martin, "Those nut cases apparently knew what they

were looking for, and where everything was. That means they had inside

help which, according to the po-

348

lice, fits the pattern of other raids they've made. What they do, I'm told,

is persuade people like cleaners and maintenance staff to become informers.

I'll try to find out who were our Judases, though I haven't much hope."

Bentley was also putting into effect strong and expensive security

precautions for the future. As he expressed it, "In a way, it's an exercise

in stable-door shutting, but those self-righteous people don't give up

easily and could be back."

Martin, in turn, reported to New Jersey by telephone the day after the

raid. He talked with Celia Jordan. A few days earlier Martin had been

delighted to learn of Celia's return to the company; now he expressed

regret that their first conversation should involve bad news.

Celia was shocked to learn of the Harlow devastation-so much in contrast to

the recent heady progress reports concerning Peptide 7. She questioned

Martin sharply about his estimate of delay.

"What we'll have to do," he advised her, "is repeat all the animal

experiments to recover our data, which will be needed, of course, to

accompany any drug application the company eventually makes. It's a

terrible time waste and cost, but there isn't any choice."

"Are you sure about two years?"

"That's the worst case. If we can shave a few months from that time, we

will. We know a great deal more than we did two years ago, and some

shortcuts may appear. We'll all do our best."

"I want you to know," Celia said, "that Peptide 7 has become tremendously

important to us here. Do you remember a conversation you and I had at your

home? When you said that given more time, you'd produce an important

medication which could make Felding-Roth enormously rich? Those last two

words were yours."

At the Harlow end of the line, Martin grimaced. "I'm afraid I do remember.

I wasn't behaving like a scientist, and I hope that conversation doesn't go

further than the two of us."

"It won't. But I remind you of it because the first part of your prediction

came true. Now we desperately need the rest."

"Two years to get back where we were," Martin repeated. "Shortcuts or no,

it won't be much less."

But the conversation spurred him to hasten reorganizing. Replacement

animals were ordered promptly from supply houses, and as they arrived the

institute staff commenced the tiresome rote of repeating work begun long

ago. As a result, within thrre weeks the data recovery process was moving

at full speed.

349

Through the entire ordeal, from the night of the raid onward, Yvonne

sustained Martin in body and spirit. She took total charge of his domestic

life, asking him nothing, doing everything, so that neither his attention

nor energy was diverted from the institute. At other times she comforted

him, seeming to know instinctively when to be silently attentive or, at

other moments, to amuse him with cheerful chatter. Once, after an

especially grueling day, she told him at bedtime to lie face down, and when

he did, gave him a slow Swedish massage which sent him into a deep sleep

that lasted until morning.

When Martin asked next day how she learned to do such things, she answered,

"I once roomed with a friend who was a masseuse. She taught me."

"I've noticed something about you," he said. "You never miss a chance to

learn. The same way you did by working at John Locke. Have you read any

more from him lately?"

"Yes." Yvonne hesitated, then said, "I found something he wrote which kind

of fits those 'animal-rights' people. About enthusiasm."

Martin said curiously, "I'm not sure I remember. Can you find the passage?"

Locke's Essay was across the room, but without bothering to get it, Yvonne

began:

"Immediate revelation being a much easier way for men to

establish their opinions and regulate their conduct than the

tedious and not always successful labor of strict reasoning, it is

no wonder that some have been very apt to pretend to revela

tion, and to persuade themselves that they are under the pecu

liar guidance of heaven in their actions and opinions . . ."

As she recited, obviously from memory, Martin regarded her with

astonishment. Observing him, she stopped, blushed slightly, then continued.

"Their minds being thus prepared, whatever groundless

opinion comes to settle itself strongly upon their fancies is an

illumination from the Spirit of God and presently of divine

authority; and whatsoever odd action they find in themselves a

strong inclination to do, that impulse is concluded to be a call

or direction from heaven . . ."

Yvonne stopped, giggled, then said with embarrassment, "That's enough."

350

"No, no!" Martin urged, "Go on, please! If you can."

She said doubtfully, "You're making fun of me."

"Not in any slightest way."

"All right." She recited again.

". . . enthusiasm, which, though founded neither on reason

nor divine revelation, but rising from the conceits of a warmed

or overweening brain . . . men being most forwardly obedi

ent to the impulses they receive from themselves . . . For

strong conceit, like a new principle, carries all easily with it,

when got above common sense, and freed from all restraint of

reason . . . "

Yvonne concluded the passage, then stopped, those blue, innocent-appearing

eyes fixed on Martin, making clear she was still wondering about his

reaction, doubtful of herself

He said, his tone incredulous, "I do recall that quotation now. And I don't

believe you got a single word wrong. How did you do it?"

"Well . . . I remember things."

"Anything? And always in such detail?"

"I suppose SO."

It reminded Martin that even when reporting trivial gossip, Yvonne always

seemed to have the details right-names, dates, places, sources, background

facts. He had noted that subconsciously, but without significance until

now.

He asked, "How many times do you have to read something until you've

memorized it?"

"Once, mostly. But with Locke it was twice." Yvonne still looked

uncomfortable, as if Martin had uncovered a guilty secret.

He said, "I want to try something."

Going to another room, he found a book he was sure Yvonne had not seen

before. It was Locke's The Conduct of the Understanding. Opening it to a

page he had once marked, he told her, "Read this. From here to here."

"Can I read it twice?"

"Of course."

She put her head down, her long blond hair tumbling forward while she

frowned in concentration, then she lowered the book. Martin took it from

her and instructed, "Now tell me what you read."

He followed the words as she repeated them.

351

"There are fundamental truths that lie at the bottom, the

basis upon which a great many others rest, and in which they

have their consistency. These are teeming truths, rich in store,

with which they furnish the mind, and, like the lights of

heaven, are not only beautiful and entertaining in themselves,

but give light and evidence to other things, that without them

could not be seen or known. Such is that admirable discovery

of Mr. Newton that all bodies gravitate . . ."

She went on for several paragraphs more, Martin finding each word exactly

as printed in the book he held.

At the end, Yvonne pronounced, "That piece is beautiful."

"So are you," he told her. "And so is what you have. Do you know what it

is?"

Again that unease, the hesitation. "You tell me."

"You've a photographic memory. It's something special and unique. Surely

you must have known."

"In a way. But I never wanted to be different. Not a circus freak." There

was a break in Yvonne's voice. For the first time since he had known her,

Martin sensed tears not far away.

"Who, in God's name, ever said you were a freak?"

"A teacher at school."

Under Martin's tender questioning the story came out.

She had written an examination and, because of that photographic memory,

many of her answers were identical with material in textbooks. The woman

teacher who marked the paper accused Yvonne of cheating. Later, Yvonne's

denial was disbelieved. In desperation she had given an example of

memorizing similar to the one Martin just witnessed.

The teacher, angry at being proved wrong, had scoffed at Yvonne's

ability, describing her as a "circus freak" and her kind of learning as

"worthless."

Martin interrupted. "It isn't worthless if you understand what you've

learned."

"Oh, I did understand."

"I believe that," he assured her. "You've a good brain. I've seen it

function."

But after her clash with the teacher, Yvonne not only concealed her gift,

she attempted to discard it. When studying, she consciously tried not to

memorize sentences and phrases and, in part, succeeded. But doing so also

lessened her understanding of what

352

she was required to learn, with the result that she did poorly in

examinations and failed the one that might have got her into veterinary

college.

"Teachers can do a lot that's good," Martin said. "But stupid ones can

do great harm."

Yvonne, looking sad as she remembered, said nothing, and a silence

followed during which Martin concentrated, thinking.

At length he said, "You've done so much for me. Maybe, for a change, I