Mindbend

Adam didn’t wait for her to finish. He ducked into an elevator just as the doors were closing, ignoring the receptionist who yelled after him that he was not allowed to go to six unaccompanied.

When the elevator stopped, Adam got out and made for the double doors at the end of the hall marked “Treatment Rooms.”

As he passed the nurses’ station, he noticed the elaborate antique furniture and wondered what the Julian was trying to prove.

One of the nurses yelled for him to stop, but Adam kept running. He went through the double doors and opened the first treatment room door. It was empty. He went on to the next. A nurse tried to bar his way, but he was able to look over her shoulder at the patient’s face. It wasn’t Jennifer.

Adam crossed the hall and tried another door.

“Exactly what do you think you are doing?” asked a nurse with a German accent.

Adam rudely shoved the woman aside. He saw Dr. Vandermer bending over the table. He was holding a hypodermic whose needle sparkled under the overhead light.

“Jennifer!” shouted Adam, relieved that the surgery had proceeded no further than her being given the local anesthetic. “Don’t do it, please. Don’t have the abortion.

Not without further tests.”

Jennifer started to sit up as two orderlies rushed through the door and pinned Adam’s arms behind his back. Adam saw that both men had the same unblinking stares as the stewards on the ship.

“OK, OK,” said Adam. “You’ve made your point. You’re stronger than I am. Now kindly let me go.”

“Adam Schonberg?” said Dr. Vandermer. Until he’d heard Adam’s voice, he’d thought they were dealing with a psychotic stranger. “What are you doing here? Jennifer just told me you were out of town.”

“Please don’t go ahead with the procedure. There’s something I must tell you.”

As if suddenly remembering the orderlies, Dr. Vandermer tapped the nearest on the shoulder and said, “I know this man. You can let go of him.” He undid his mask and let it fall on his chest.

The orderlies released Adam as the door to the corridor opened and a number of clinic staff members peered in to see what was happening.

“Everything is under control,” said Dr. Vandermer.

Addressing the orderlies, he said, “Why don’t you two wait outside.”

As soon as they left, he guided Adam to a small anteroom, promising Jennifer they would both be back in a minute.

As soon as the door was closed, Adam blurted out, “I managed to get on one of the Arolen cruises.”

Dr. Vandermer stared at him as if just noticing the jeans and St. Thomas tee shirt for the first time. If he knew what Adam was talking about, he gave no indication.

“I’m happy you got to go,” was all he said. “We can compare notes later. Right now I need to take care of your wife. Why don’t you go down to the lounge and wait for me? I won’t be long.”

“But you don’t understand,” said Adam. “The Arolen cruises are more than continuing education sessions. They’re a cover for an elaborate behavior-modification scheme.”

Dr. Vandermer debated what to do. Adam was obviously psychotic. Maybe he could persuade him to go over to Psychiatry, where someone with experience could help him.

Taking a step forward, Dr. Vandermer put his arm around Adam’s shoulder. “I think the person you should be talking with is Dr. Pace. Why don’t we go downstairs and I’ll introduce you to him?”

Adam pushed Dr. Vandermer’s arm away. “I don’t think you heard what I said. I’m talking about drug-induced behavior modification. Dr. Vandermer, you were a victim. You were drugged. Do you understand me?”

Dr. Vandermer sighed. “Adam, I know you believe what you are saying, but I was not drugged on my cruise. I gave lectures. It was a delightful time, as were the days I spent in Puerto Rico.”

“I saw it all,” said Adam. “I was on the Fjord. I saw how they drugged the doctors’ food and kept giving them yellow pills. Then they were subjected to these films. It was mind control. Look, you’ve got to believe me. Think. Why did you change your mind about pregdolen? Before you went on the cruise, you thought the drug was unsafe. You told me you’d never prescribe it.”

“I’ve never changed my mind about pregdolen,” protested Dr. Vandermer. “I’ve always thought it was the best product on the market if one were forced to use medication for morning sickness.”

Realizing he was making no headway, Adam grabbed Dr.

Vandermer’s hand. Looking directly into the doctor’s eyes, he said, “Please, even if you don’t believe me, please don’t abort my child. I think the lab mixup that occurred with the amniocentesis slides was deliberate. I think Arolen is trying to increase its supply of fetal tissue, and this is how it is done.”

The door to the room opened.

“Dr. Vandermer,” said the nurse in the doorway, “what are we to do?”

Dr. Vandermer waved her away.

“Adam,” he said kindly, “I can appreciate how upset you must be with the way things have turned out.”

“Don’t be condescending,” warned Adam as he rubbed his eyes. “All I want is to delay the abortion. That’s all. I don’t think that’s asking too much.”