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could be scratched. Couldn't it?"
When Max nodded, Gary said, "We weren't at fault, though." And when he saw the
look in Max's eyes, he added, "I mean, there's no possibility we could have
done anything wrong, is there?"
Max did not answer because Casimir said, "If you have to ask that, then you
don't belong in the dream project"
"I'm sorry," Gary said. There weren't and could not be errors in what they
were doing. They were dealing with forces and powers that were unknown and
unpredictable. It had already cost one man his life.
Sam mused, "With all the safeguards we've got, I don't see how one of us got
choked to death."
Kate regarded Casimir with some outrage. "Choked to death! How do you know
that?"
"You were there." Casimir looked around. "We were all there. We saw it."
"But if he was choked to death," pursued Kate, "then that proves Max's
hypothesis about dream creatures, doesn't it? Ralph did not die in vain."
Sam considered it. "All right. I see your point. You could say it was the
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stigmata syndrome. Ralph so believed his dream that he died from it."
"Which brings us," Kate said, "to the thing in the tank."
"What about it?" Gary asked.
"Well, Max?"
Max said they'd have to leave it there. "We can't do a thing until
Andrew Cassoit gives us the okay to get on with the project."
At just that moment Gail Robbins, Cassoit's secretary, opened the door to the
building and told them the meeting would not be held out on the
lawn but rather upstairs.
"How's the old man?" Kate asked her.
"Ready to bite your head off," Gail replied, holding the door wide so they
could all go through.
"I believe it," Kate whispered to Gary when they were inside and the others
were following. "Dr. Cassoit's been known to whittle doctors down to half
their size."
The conference room where tire hearing was to be held was a formidable place.
It was empty of art, of things esthetically pleasing. It contained only a long
table behind which the heads of the seven Meta departments sat with Cassoit in
the center.
The members of the Ephialtology Department sat in the chairs placed facing the
department heads. There was much clearing of throats on both sides, the
reading of hastily prepared material, and a testing of the AV
machines by the technicians who were charged with the responsibility of
recording the proceedings for the Meta Foundation in Washington.
In a way it all reminded Gary of Ralph's dream, only these seven men facing
them weren't officers, there weren't any windows behind them to jump out of,
and this wasn't a dream.
Cassoit was stern and coldly efficient right from the start. The rules
required him to introduce those at the hearing and he did so.
Then Dr. Cassoit rapped for order. It became very quiet in the room.
Cassoit's wandering eyes found Gary's. "Dr. Carmody," he said, "will you
accommodate us first?"
Gary sat frozen where he was for a moment, since he had no idea what
Cassoit meant until he realized that the doctor wanted him to be the first to
take the witness chair. Gary got up, the AV machinery began to operate, and he
walked to the chair feeling surprised that he could be called so early to
testify and hoping he would be able to help rather than hinder Max Easton's
cause.
CHAPTER SIX
Gary found himself intimidated by Cassoit's laser eyes and harsh manner, and
the noncommital gazes of the other members of the panel.
He'd been asked to describe how he had followed Finsterwald's dream while
under the helmet monitor.
"Everything looked good. We could have tried to capture one of the dream
people several times when they got close to Dr. Finsterwald."
Cassoit nodded impatiently. "What killed Dr. Finsterwald, Dr.
Carmody?"
"Why, the weight lifter."
"The weight lifter?" Cassoit made it sound ominous.
"Yes, sir. He was a big bear of a man and he came out of the weeds and started
choking Finsterwald."
"Then Dr. Finsterwald was choked to death?"
"It would seem so, yes."
"He was choked to death by a dream figure?"
"I know it sounds strange, Dr. Cassoit, but "
"Have you read the pathologist's report?"
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Gary's face reddened. He had, indeed, read the report, and he saw now how
neatly Cassoit had trapped him.
"What does the report say is the cause of death?"
"A heart attack." Gary didn't dare look around to see the reaction of his
colleagues. He wondered how he could possibly reverse the direction matters
were taking.
Dr. Cassoit nodded, picked up the autopsy report, as did the others.
"The pathologist also states that shortly before the incident with the weight
lifter, Dr. Finsterwald's urinary catecholamine secretion was extremely high."
Cassoit looked up. "What, in your estimation, does that
signify, Doctor?"
"That he was frightened."
"Can't you be more specific?"
"He was in a panic state, sir."
"What do people do when they are in a panic state?"
"Run away. Act chaotically."
"And what did Dr. Finsterwald do?"
"Nothing. He just lay there."
"Then it was not a true panic state?"
"It was an imaginary one, one caused by the dream, Dr. Cassoit. It happens "
Dr. Cassoit waved him quiet. "Tell me, Doctor, do you think the rigors and
pressures of research could have precipitated Dr. Finsterwald's heart attack?" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]