Death of an Adept

"If you don't mind me observing while you administer the medication, Dr. Sinclair - and sign his chart, of course - I'm sure there won't be any problem. Dr. Saloa did authorize the lower dose."

"Alan, will that be all right?" Adam asked.

Closing his eyes gratefully, Lockhart nodded, stirring to watch somewhat apprehensively as Adam injected half the contents of the syringe into a port in his IV line and then busied himself with signing the necessary paperwork. By the time Adam closed the door behind Nurse Hanna, with instructions that they were not to be disturbed, Lockhart was looking somewhat less tight around the lips, though he was still obviously uncomfortable.

"What now?" he asked, as Adam returned to sit in the chair at his bedside. "Watch the watch?"

"Something like that," Adam said with a smile.

From the side pocket of his waistcoat, he produced the antique silver pocket watch that had been left him by his father.

"I was being facetious," Lockhart murmured. "I didn't think you'd really pull out a pocket watch."

Adam's smile deepened as he detached the matching silver chain and fob from his buttonhole. "Actually, just about anything can be used as a focus. But as you've noted yourself, I'm a traditionalist by nature - and you obviously were expecting a pocket watch. Are you reasonably comfortable?"

"I s'pose so."

"Good. Try to relax, then, while I tell you a little about hypnosis," Adam continued easily, letting the watch begin to twirl at the end of its chain. "I don't know how much you've heard or read, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with what old radio shows like The Shadow used to refer to as 'the power to cloud men's minds.' You yourself may choose to cloud certain perceptions - and this can be a blessing, just as release from pain is a blessing.

"But contrary to what the old B movies might have you believe, no individual, however deeply entranced, can ever be compelled to act against his or her will. The role of the hypnotist is simply that of guide and companion, and the trance state experienced by the subject can best be described as a directed daydream - and daydreams can be very, very real, as we all know. The suggestions themselves come from without, but any and all powers of suggestion come from within, from the depths of the subject's own psyche."

Lockhart was already predisposed to accept Adam's direction; and this disquisition, delivered in tones of quiet reassurance, only served to enhance the desired response. As Adam slowly lifted his hand holding the gently twirling watch, Lock-hart's eyes tracked with it.

"Relax and breathe deeply, then," Adam instructed softly. "You're already far more relaxed than you were… and you can become even more relaxed. Every time you exhale, feel yourself breathing out a little more of the pain, ridding yourself of a little more anxiety, becoming more and more relaxed, more and more comfortable, more and more at ease….

"You're doing just fine," he continued, as Lockhart's eyelids began to flutter. "As you become more relaxed, you may find that your eyelids are growing heavy, but try to keep your gaze on the watch. See how it catches the light, like ripples on the surface of a pool - shifting, changing… If watching becomes too much effort, you can let your eyelids close, because you'll still hear every word I say - and hear only my words, as you float in a calm, warm, sun-dappled pool - very quiet, very peaceful, floating in the comfort. You can experience the water like a cradle, gently rocking you to sleep, gently washing away the pain…."

Under the lulling influence of Adam's voice, Lockhart's eyes soon closed and he settled more heavily into trance. As his breathing eased, the taut facial muscles lost their habit of tension, and a slight flush touched the parchment-like cheeks. Adam continued to take him down, putting away his watch and taking his Adept ring from a coat pocket, watching as the telltale flicker of eye-movement beneath Lockhart's closed lids continued to indicate an ever-deepening trance-state. Satisfied that his patient had achieved a reasonably pain-free state, Adam turned now to the more far-reaching question that he hoped to address.

"Rest easy for a while now, Alan," he murmured, slipping his Adept ring onto the third finger of his right hand. "Rest in the Light, and when I touch your wrist, go twice as deep as you are now, letting nothing disturb you until I call you by name and touch your forehead."

His touch to the emaciated wrist elicited a faint sigh and a further settling of his patient. Now satisfied that Lockhart was adequately prepared for the work that lay before them, Adam turned his thoughts to the next part of his own work.