Part 8 The Fine Silver Line
"It was really weird," Officer Morgan muttered as he sipped down a cup of coffee later. The squad room was rife with chattering officers, all buzzing around their desks to the tune of fluttering paper.
"What was weird?" Elisa laughed, crossing her bluejeaned legs as she looked up from her computer.
"Was driving by that street where something went down, that Q-Man gang riot incident yesterday, and I saw Margot Yale... Assistant DA. She said something about plainclothes busting a pickpocket ring... just was wondering if you knew anything about it..."
"Probably some secret investigation," Elisa gulped at her coffee nonchalantly. "You know, one of the ones that the Captain never lets us others know about because... well it's secret. Remember when I busted Dracon..."
"Yeah, we all thought you'd lost your mind," Morgan chuckled, extracting a jelly filled donut from the box on Elisa's desk.
Suddenly Matt breezed by their desk, a stack of papers in his hands. "Elisa you wouldn't believe what just went down..."
"I know... If I hear one more comment about that Who Wants to be a Millionaire conspiracy again I'll put a finger down my throat," Elisa groaned.
"No, it's not that," Matt corrected her. "It's something I dug up on Carissa Desiree. Did you know she'd been in for treatment at the Crystal Springs Sanitarium?"
"So?" Elisa asked, raising an eyebrow as Morgan winked at her.
"That's just it. That's the same sanitarium that the newest winner on Who Wants to Be a millionaire..." Morgan muttered.
Just then Elisa's phone rang. She picked up the receiver, muttering, "Yeah, talk to me..."
An incoherent string of words shot forth. It sounded familiar, but she scolded the talker at the other end, "Slow down Keith, what's going on?"
Morgan lifted an eyebrow as he took a tentative bite from his donut. "She what? Okay, but are you sure?"
Already the sun was fast approaching the low course of its arc, beaming brightly into he precinct squad room. "Okay, okay I'll come over... but you're not making any sense..."
Keith felt as if his head was splitting open. He groaned as he flopped out of the elevator, in the high vaulted ceilinged rooms of the castle. Why was he here of all places? Some strange homing instinct perhaps? To see his friend?
Only just a few minutes ago he'd called Elisa. From a street pay phone. Had to go after Lucia... make sure she was okay.
He groaned as he tumbled headlong onto the floor. Owen happened to walk in at the sound of the elevator door swinging open. "May I ask what brings you here today?" he asked dryly. All the same he gripped the lanky fellow as he collapsed hands to his head.
"Head... splitting," Keith gasped. "I gotta tell her... she's wrong... she had no right... to have me..."
"Who sir?" Owen asked, gripping Keith.
"That bitch... who said she was my friend, my professor..." he gritted. "No... Got to tell her... she..."
"I must insist you stop this irrational behavior," Owen latched his arm under Keith's, as he moved towards the main living area.
"How dare you bring me into this world!" he hollered. "How dare you run away and leave us… damn you Raychell!"
"I must ask you to lower your voice! Alex is taking his nap..." Fox gasped.
"Lucia... gone... everyone crazy..." he gasped, the anger flushing out of his face. Slowly his mind seemed to recede as another pain shot through his head.
Fox and Xanatos came running at the commotion, seeing a writhing KEITH wrestling with Owen. "What's going on here Owen?" Xanatos asked casually.
"Boy's got a wild streak... in him... I don't know sir..." he gasped.
"Keith Pulaski, what's going on?" Fox asked, trying to be calm and collected against the wildness in his eyes.
"You... it's all your fault!" he yelled at her.
"What's all my fault?" she asked. "You're crazy…"
Suddenly he broke away from her, and screamed as he raced into the courtyard. "Raychell, DAMN you, damn you for what you made me feel! You abandoned us… you ran away, you've got a heart of stone you outer space bitch! You created this mess... and I can't get anything right!" he hollered back.
"I don't know WHAT you're deal is," Fox said, confused. "I'm sorry you're angry! But this isn't the way to..."
Keith grabbed a knife from his pocket, and snarled, "Get out of my way!" Owen struggled to move, but Fox cartwheeled out of the way. Owen jumped to attack, but Keith pushed him, and he grabbed the knife to twist it out of his hand. Keith gave Owen a kick, and shoved him off as he stalked towards Fox with the knife. She quickly flashed out with a roundhouse kick and nailed him in the jaw. It was then that he crumpled, a marionette with cut strings that sagged in Owen's arms. Xanatos shielded Fox from the backlash of a sudden wave that cut them both down.
"Holy shit!" she cried, moving to his side. Just then the elevator door slipped open again, Elisa Maza stepping through.
"There he is!" she muttered, running to his side.
"What's happened, come on!" she said. "I know you're not like this… you wanted Raychell, she's not here. But you're not in your right mind… are you?"
He groggily glanced up at her, eyes glazed over. Blood seeped out his nose, trickling down his lip. A strange, silver ooze mingled with the blood, glinting amidst the red.
"Uh... my head..."
"What's going on here?" Xanatos asked, raising an eyebrow as he frowned. "What is that strange silvery substance..."
"I have a nasty suspicion..." Owen muttered, glancing at the blood mingled with silver.
"That's what I'd like to know. He said meet me at the apartment, and when I got there I found him running out to catch a bus!" Elisa shrugged. Fox and Owen wrestled him towards the medical suite.
"Definitely a case of psychosis," Owen said as he turned to Xanatos. "I sensed the buildup of his powers, directed towards you, Mrs. Xanatos..."
"But why me?" she asked. "Why now of all times?"
"He called me at the precinct house, babbling about Lucia running out like a wild woman," Elisa shrugged as they stood near a lab counter. Fox rubbed her son's head, concern in her eyes while he lay there on a hospital bed.
Xanatos glanced at the microscope. Fox had smeared a sample of Keith's blood on a slide. "I can't believe it..." he muttered. "No wonder! Damn!"
Elisa turned to him, questions in her dark eyes. "Nanites," he said, turning to Fox. "Nanotechnology imbedded in with the blood samples..."
Fox left her patient's side, moving towards the scope. "Unbelievable. Something must have imbedded Nanites into Mr. Pulaski's brain... and the jarring of his power lodged them loose..."
"Nanites? Like those ones in Australia?" Elisa asked.
"Right," Fox muttered grimly. "But these are tailored for a human body. To remake it in any way necessary. But what were they doing in this kid's head?"
"Modifying his behavior, into a psychotic state," Xanatos scratched his head.
"But how would Nanites get into his body?" Elisa asked. "Without a trace?"
"Presumably someone could implant them or they'd find their own way to the target regions of the body," Fox said, focusing the microscope as she tapped a few keys on the computer. There, blown up many times was the image of red blood cells, and torn neuron fibers. "Whatever it was, it tangled up with nerve fibers, and wrapped right around them. If you look there, it appeared that some nerve fibers were actually Nanites fashioning themselves into neurons!"
"Incredible," Xanatos muttered. "Whoever did this was a pro!"
"Any of your guys able to do this?" Elisa glared accusingly.
"The Nanites I developed at Cyberbiotics were working towards this. But we hadn't ever used them for such a specific purpose..." she muttered.
"Can you trace the source?" Elisa asked.
"No, they don't' have a logo printed in their side," she muttered. "David, could you be a dear and check into the latest from Golden Cup? See if they've made any strides into neuronal research..."
"I thought you would have known, my dear?" he teased.
"I've been busy with my modeling career," she rested hands on her hips. "I've been out of the nanite field for a while... David darling..."
"Guys, I'm going back to the apartment. Maybe I can find some evidence..." Elisa said.
"Raychell..." came Keith's groan. Fox moved back to his side, stroking his sweaty forehead.
"Easy there, easy..." she hushed him.
Slowly he blinked, glancing up at her. "I'm... sorry... I didn't mean to say those things...Mrs. Xanatos you have to forgive me…"
"We know. Somebody was manipulating you from inside..." she explained.
"I... saw... something. That second before I blacked out. Images... of Lucia... people... in white coats... running around..."
"What?" Elisa cocked an eyebrow.
"She's... someplace... white... it all came in bursts... then everything went psycho..." he trailed off as he blacked out again.
"Owen, get me a list of top nanite facilities, off and on the record, now," Xanatos snapped his fingers.
"At once sir."
Elisa excused herself, and moved out towards the door. Leaving Fox leaning over her unconscious patient. A strange tenderness crept into her face, much like that when she was in the presence of Alex. Many things had been brought to the surface today, and she had to admit the kid was growing on her. He often showed up to help Raychell with something, and ended up becoming fast friends with Lexington, who was also a computer geek. His mom was gone, and he lived with a bunch of guys in a loft, in a rock band. She had sympathy for him, because he reminded him of a younger her.
MacBeth clicked his cell phone off, grumbling to himself. He turned to Matt Bluestone. "Well, she's no answering."
"I told you we have to wait twenty four hours before we file a missing person's report," Matt explained patiently.
"I have a suspicion where she is," MacBeth said, eyes fixing into Matt's. They stood next to her pink vehicle, to the side of the road with her purse still intact. A pile of tickets had built up under the right wind shield wiper.
Just then Elisa came down from the apartment, shaking her head. "It's nuts. I found something. And you're not gonna like it..."
"More bad news?" he asked.
"No trace of what I was looking for," she shrugged.
"And what wuild that be?" MacBeth raised an eyebrow.
"It's a stretch. Hey, what's he doing here?"
"I'm concerned about a young lady who was supposed t' meet me fer dinner and the showing of Ragtime," MacBeth answered, hands in the pockets of an elegant raincoat overtop of a pleasant suit. All dressed up and no place to go. "I've been calling her all afternoon. Finally came to see if she was in need of assistance... to find yer partner here..."
"Look Mr. MacDuff, we're doing all we can, but you're not helping us by watching us like a hawk..."
"Wuildn't yer-connections- know anything we haven't tried," MacBeth raised an eyebrow.
"What are you..." Matt asked, before MacBeth glanced towards his lapel. Of course he never wore it in public, but how could MacBeth have known?
"Yer... friends," MacBeth gave a wry grin. "Are known t' me as well. In fact ye might say they've had a vested interest in me for some time... considering how they like to think they can last... ferever..."
"All right, level with me," Elisa grabbed Matt's hand. "What is all this about?"
"Ye know something lass, I can tell by the glint in yer eye. Something t' do with where Lucia might be. Something's happened, and ye dinna want me t' know. A lass is missing, and I demand to know what yer going t' do about it!"
"Look, I could have you in for obstructing the Police," Elisa snapped, sick of his sudden crack.
"Elisa, no," Matt sighed. "Okay, you win. I have a nasty suspicion, but we can't talk about it here..."
They climbed into the Fairlaine, and Elisa began to drive around the block. MacBeth leaned over the seat as the two partners compared notes.
"We've got silver goop so far, and a missing person. But that doesn't mean that Lucia's disappearance is tied to Keith Pulaski going crazy..."
"Like the devil it isn't," MacBeth snorted. "I have a suspicion or twa myself. And it has mainly t' do with people going daft. And it's no coincidence that Lucia has gone... and ye know it!"
"Keith Pulaski... had an incident himself..." Elisa sighed. "But that has no connection with the other episodes..."
"It very much does. And I have my own suspicions..."
"How so?" Matt narrowed his eyes.
"Certain goings on. Just recently in the mail I had received a CD-ROM for Crystal Springs sanitarium. At first I laughed it off. And then the name arose at the sudden outbreaks of commitments... some wealthy associates of mine have become patients there. And I have a suspicion that it is no coincidence that all the new patients are gargoyle sympathizers. And now Lucia and Keith have had episodes..."
"All right," Matt sighed. "I've had a similar theory. But I don't know about trying to get proof of it..."
"Guys, I'm still trying to piece this together myself. I have a lead too, but the problem is getting Captain Chavez to buy it..."
"Well?" MacBeth and Matt demanded.
"It's that kid Keith. He saw something before he... fainted. Men in white coats."
"That's it," MacBeth's eyes opened wide. "We must look there. The Crystal Springs sanitarium."
"Whoa, wait a minute, what's this we stuff?" Matt asked turning to MacBeth. "You're not a police officer as I recall..."
"He's right. Leave this to us..." Elisa said. She pulled up at Matt's building, just as Matt's wristwatch chimed four thirty.
"I'm pulling a double shift tonight," Elisa said. "Make sure you get some sleep Matt, cause I'll need your backup..."
Both got out of the car, and watched her drive away. MacBeth took Matt's arm as he turned to go into his apartment. "Wait a minute lad. I know there is a connection. And I can prove it!"
"Look, Mr. MacDuff, leave this to us okay?" Matt sighed. "Now if you don't mind I'm tired, and I have to pull a shift tonight... so if I could just get five hours of sleep..."
"What if I could take you to the Sanitarium, and prove that Miss Domiguez is there..."
"Are you nuts?" Matt Bluestone asked. "You want to go where?"
MacBeth scowled, straightening his tie as he glanced in the mirror surface of the entrance to Matt's apartment house. "If ye are not into this, leave now..."
"Look I'm just as curious as the next person, but this... this is really a reach, even for me?"
"And Elisa said you were the conspiracy hound," MacBeth quipped.
"Do you realize what you're saying?"
"I do lad. And it might just interest you to be able to solve a most mysterious case... if I am correct... are you interested?" he asked.
"I feel absolutely stupid," Matt muttered, fixing the wire-framed glasses to his nose. The detective ripped off his coat, wearing a white hospital smock. He slicked his hair back with a bit of mousse, and grabbed a clipboard and some pencils, thrusting them into his smock's breast pocket. MacBeth straightened his tie in the mirror, and snapped the clasps on his briefcase deftly.
"I thought ye liked working undercover," MacBeth quipped, as his limousine pulled up to the parking lot. From beneath a chauffeur's cap, MacBeth's driver watched the smug face on his employer, and the irate glare his guest stabbed him with. It was not his duty to wonder why his boss did anything, the chauffeur realized, punching the button that raised the partition.
"All right, I'm reminding you this isn't on my duty," he grumbled.
"Get ready," MacBeth said. "Then slip in round back... and wait fer me t' come into the guest reception area. Oh in aboot, thirty minutes..."
When no one was looking, Matt slipped out of the car, and walked around the building to the service entrance. A group of interns was returning from lunch presumably, their smocks visible under their outside jackets and coats. He slipped his own coat, moving into the column as a girl slipped out her badge and swiped it through the card reader.
"Thanks," Matt grinned, following the knot of interns and orderlies in.
"No problem. This your first week too?"
"Yeah..." he laughed. He stuck close to the heels of the worker before him, following them into the quiet hallways of the sanitarium. He was in!
For a moment he got his bearings, pretending to be scribbling on a notebook. As soon as eyes fell on him he merged with another group of chatting orderlies, getting in from a cigarette. He could smell the scent on the large man to the left.
They halted before the admissions desk. Matt listened to snatches of conversation. So far there had been little sign of any patients. He glanced out past the double doors to the reception lobby. To one side he saw a silver haired gentleman walking in, briefcase in hand. That beard was unmistakable. MacBeth was in too!
MacBeth casually wandered up to the desk, catching Bluestone out of the corner of his eye. "I'd like to visit a patient," he said.
"Are you a relative?"
"Well, let's just say I was her professor at school. I wanted to see if she needed any help... with her studies..."
"Sir, if you're not a relative..."
Matt Bluestone choked. That blonde figure in the hall fixed her ice blue eyes upon his, and he backed into the nearest room, clutching his clipboard. He bumped into MacBeth, who was talking to one of the nurses.
"I simply want to ask if a Miss Domiguez is here..."
"We cannot release any information to you sir. Our patients have the strictest of confidentiality..."
"Right of course," MacBeth gritted, trying to keep a civil look upon his face. "Whoof..."
"Sorry... sir..." Matt choked, his chest heaving up and down.
"What's the meaning of..." MacBeth began before he realized who it was. Matt pulled him out of earshot of the nurse.
"She is here..."
"Lucia?" MacBeth almost shouted. "Where..."
"Not her. Margot."
"Orderly? Excuse me!" called the receptionist. "Can you come here for a moment..."
"I'm just answering this gentleman's questions," Matt coughed, pushing the horn-rimmed specs up further on his nose.
Just then Margot Yale rounded the corner, with two white-coated figures at her shoulders. Matt hid himself behind MacBeth in an effort to look inconspicuous.
"Gentlemen, how long has that orderly been employed here?"
"He just started here today..."
"He looks rather familiar... don't you... Mr..."
Matt froze, it was all over. Just then MacBeth shoved himself in front of Margot, a wild look in his eyes.
"Get that witch away from me!" he howled, raising his hands before his face.
"I beg your pardon..." Margot asked, as Matt suddenly grabbed MacBeth around the waist.
"Easy Mr. MacDuff... easy..."
"Ye thought ye cuild fool me wi' yer curse! This king is he that rules in stead..."
"I'm sorry..." Matt tried to restrain him as Margot gasped. A maniacal look sprang in MacBeth's face as he strained against Matt and several security guards who slowly came into view.
"Is he... crazy?" Margot gasped.
MacBeth shoved Bluestone out of the way, grabbing one of the doctors by the lapels as he shouted, "Am I thus betrayed! To be played into the hands of one not of a woman born?"
"Sir... calm down..."
"Mr. MacDuff, please..." Margot cried, as she saw him wrestling with the doctor.
"MacDuff! He was the one who hath slain me! And you... can you wash the blood from yer hands that ye murdered the King!"
"Mr. MacDuff, it's going to be all right," the psychiatrist said, struggling against the powerful hold upon his shoulders. He was thrown aside as MacBeth grabbed the astonished Margot.
"Aye the blood is thick on yer hands! Out, out damned spot!" he shouted, before two guards gripped him in their powerful holds. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Matt Bluestone beating a safe if hasty retreat.
"Mr. MacDuff! Calm down!" came the shouts as MacBeth struggled. Then he collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor as Margot was gently urged from the room. She shook her head, clearly puzzled.
"Any luck?" somebody cheerfully asked. With a shriek Fox nearly leapt a foot out of her chair. Fox Xanatos looked up from the microscope, to see Lexington peering over her shoulder.
"Hey, watch it," she snapped irritably. "I don't need any gray hairs!"
"I've got a better idea on how you could analyze that," he suggested, holding a CD-ROM in his hands.
"Anything would help," Fox grumbled, shoving a lock of flame hair behind one ear. She slipped the safety glasses further up her nose.
"Come right this way, to the computer lab..."
"How is playing your video game going to..."
"Can you upload the observations from the light microscope into the directory here?" he asked.
"I can ftp it..." She sighed, and put aside the gear. A few taps of the keys and she slipped her data disk into Lex's terminal across the room.
"Ok, great. Now put on your gear, and let's go," Lexington laughed. Fox did as she was told, and reality itself merged into a strange gray room.
It was a realm without boundaries, stretching into gray infinity. "I don't care for your decor," Fox shrugged, noticing she was wearing a crisp white lab smock. Lexington was there before her, a spectral gargoyle shape that flashed and flickered with the strange lines of numbers before him. He actually pushed letters and numbers as if they were beads on an abacus.
"Okay, bring up the data here..." he said. Fox moved her arm, and grabbed a small glowing packet that swirled into her grasp. She unwrapped it, forming a two dimensional plane before both of them. Lexington tossed several bits of numbers from his string towards it, and it expanded into several thousand views of the microscope scans.
"Now, let's get a simulation of it..." he said, and tossed a glowing number three and a d at the image. Fox blinked as a hissing pyrotechnics display almost exploded into her face. She'd have to talk to him about being so melodramatic and literal with the graphical avatars!
Before them both a shimmering image coalesced into a small point, then slowly blew up to about Lexington's size as he expanded his arms. The odd shape was flat, with tiny ciliated protuberances, segmented. At the top was a chemotactic sensor, and within were tiny filaments of microcircuitry.
"It's a single chip etching... at the molecular level," Fox muttered. "Incredible!"
"Look at that there... a small em pulse modulator," Lexington pointed out, at a protuberance on the underside of the flat object, much like a little spider. A small nozzle like attachment fitted out the back.
"What does that do?" Fox muttered, and flickered a strange orb that allowed her to toggle the view in three dimensions.
"Run simulation," Lex muttered. Suddenly the nanite joined a swarm of others. Small filaments expanded out the port nozzle, in a triple helix.
"Collagen strands," Fox muttered. "And adipose tissue! That things making adipose!"
"You mean fat?"
"The brain is mostly fat. It's making a neuron!"
"Omigod," Lex muttered under his virtual breath.
"The collagen is a support matrix... and look, the nanites are joining in places to form the head of the neuron... and the filaments are taking up a gap formation... and... Oh!" Fox gasped as she noticed the sparks of light jumping like real neurons.
"Custom made brain cells..." Lexington muttered.
"So these nanites make new neural pathways... or affect preexisting ones... and those microchip fibers inside..." She muttered. "Run a simulation to determine the macroscale affects..."
Calculations flew from Lexington's palate, and onto Fox's. Back and forth their calculations collided and split, merging into new ones. The few nanites shrank to a silver glob working over simulated brain tissues like a disease. Till at last both Lexington and Fox shared a gasp of astonishment.
"Alpha wave generation," Fox gritted. "A pulse modulation in each chip..."
"Creates hallucinations, and literal thoughts in whomever programs them," Lexington completed.
"He did what?" Elisa asked, her eyebrows raising nearly off her forehead. She had pulled her Fairlaine up to the back entrance of the sanitarium as Matt slipped out. Now they roared back towards the City, and a very uncertain reception. Matt had called her in a panic, pulling her off a promising cup of coffee at Starbucks with her muffins. The remains of the repast lay between them on the seats of Elisa's car.
"Went crazy. Right in front of my eyes," Matt said. "I don't know what happened. But as soon as he saw Margot Yale there, he flipped."
"What would Margot Yale be doing at an insane asylum?" Elisa asked. "And what were you doing there, when you were off the clock?"
"MacBeth had a great hunch... and Margot was there!"
"Matt... That doesn't prove anything!" Elisa exclaimed, frustrated. "And you weren't even on duty for this!"
"I don't know. I think I saw Lucia Domiguez there, in the halls as a patient. But I can't say for sure it was her..."
"And now MacBeth's been committed. That's just perfect," Elisa muttered.
"I don't think he really had gone crazy... at least I think he didn't..." Matt muttered. "It would be too much of a coincidence that he went off the instant he saw me in danger of being recognized."
"Margot Yale saw you?" Elisa's voice raised in pitch.
"Just a glimpse," Matt sighed. "But that's the end of this undercover assignment..."
"We don't have enough to go on, even if Lucia is there," Elisa said.
"But we can't just leave MacBeth there, can we?" Matt asked.
"He can take care of himself. If he went to the trouble to fake being crazy, we gotta trust what he's doing. But I sure don't like it..."
"MacBeth in a sanitarium?"
"What he might do, if Lucia is there..."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing," Elisa shook her head. Just then the phone rang. Matt's questioning gaze met with a frown from Elisa. The mood had gone from bad to rotten.
"What now?"
"That was Captain Chavez," she sighed, clanging the phone down. "You're on probation for this, Matt…"
"No case?" asked Matt.
"Yeah. She's reassigning us to patrol. Babysitting PITT rallies," Elisa muttered in disgust.
"Margot couldn't have seen me... could she," Matt muttered. "Sorry Elisa. Blew it this time..."
"Well, no use crying over spilled milk. Can't go back now…" Elisa sighed. "But I wonder what the hell Margot Yale was doing there anyway…"
Dr. Bleuth scratched his head as he looked over the latest admission. "Lennox MacDuff," he muttered to the orderly. "Is that who that fellow in the lobby was?"
"Yes. He went totally bananas, and it took six of us to hold him now..."
"And where is he?"
"Calm as a pussycat. Once Ms. Yale left, he was very cooperative..."
"Speaking of her, I had best see if she is all right," Dr. Bleuth excused himself. Walking down the hall he came to an oak paneled suite of offices.
Margot sat in a chair in Dr. Bleuth's office, fanning her face. Sweat streaked her forehead, blanched with blood. "I can't believe that..." she gasped.
Dr. Bleuth handed her a cup of coffee. "I'm very sorry about that. Are you... all right?"
"Yes..." she breathed, sipping hot java. It seemed to bring color back into her pale face. Blond eyelashes fluttered over blue eyes. "That man almost killed me!"
"He's fine now. But none of us counted on him... being committed..."
"I take it that he wasn't expected..."
"He had come here complaining of difficulties sleeping, of the usual rigors of a college professor. But he's never acted out..."
"Still... I hope you have him out of the way..."
"Not to worry. His Medicare will be quite an asset to this place, Ms. Yale. I doubt anyone will take him seriously again after that little outburst. After all we know what lunatics those Gargoyle lovers can be..."
"Yes," she sipped her coffee again. "And hopefully the rest of the world will see the sanity you provide..."
"Yes indeed," he winked, glancing at the small silver hammer around her neck. He fingered his lapel pin, a small hammer beneath the white labcoat he now wore as a psychologist on staff.
"But I am still worried about that orderly... I recognized him from the police force! Detective Bluestone!"
"I doubt he found anything..." Dr. Bleuth assured her. "Didn't you tell me he had a case of paranoia? That's all they will see it as..."
"Yes," she smiled craftily. "He does have a reputation for conspiracy theories. I think the captain will simply see it as that..."
There came a knock on the door. An orderly poked his head and shoulders in, swinging the door partway. "Sorry to interrupt sir, but we have a new patient..."
"I know. I'll see them soon. Ms. Yale I do apologize for the situation in the lobby. Surely you can see the need for our special treatment..."
All was said in earshot of the orderly. Margot Yale collected her purse, slipping the strap over her padded shoulder.
"I want to know why my son isn't here," she said softly. "It's well and good that Miss Dominguez is here… but I had hoped my son…"
"He will be found. He will receive the special treatment also…"
"How effective... is the special treatment?" she asked with lowered voice.
"Hmm, it all depends upon the will of the individual. You know how they say one cannot hypnotize a person against their will? Well, there have been experiments recently with a sort of em transmitter that can produce alpha waves in a person's mind to create biofeedback. Recent studies have indicated the chip has to be in the cerebral cortex... to stimulate the temporal lobe, responsible for human thought."
"But for those... more difficult people... how does it exactly work?"
"You know all those UFO reports. Delusions of paranoia, being watched? Many cases can be explained if a subject is placed within a high electromagnetic field that stimulates the temporal lobe. Feelings of paranoia, being watched, even the strange night terrors that people have."
"Still... it's quite hard to swallow," Margot Yale muttered.
"Studies indicate that a reverse process is possible. That same microchip can manipulate electromagnetic fields in the brain inducing euphoria. But that's still in the experimental stage..."
"How can you get a person to have a microchip in them? And wouldn't it need a source of electromagnetic radiation?"
"Most televisions throw out massive amounts of electromagnetic radiation. It's at the wrong frequency however. There are small enough dampers that can modify the signal in a television set to the right frequency and pinpoint it in the exact location... And getting the chip inside is simplicity itself... if one uses Nanites... to construct it inside the brain..."
"All very interesting," Margot muttered. "So a normally healthy sane person can be made to go... insane?"
"I wouldn't put it beyond the realm of possibility... but usually those with feelings of paranoia tend to tell their psychologist first... and many of my clients are among the richest individuals. They would pay a great price to have such a quick cure to their feelings of paranoia. And you must agree we live in a very paranoid time. Many of my best patients have received the surgery for this chip, and are responding quite well..."
"But I wanted to know why she was targeted, and not my son… you said my son would be here…"
"Seems that he managed to elude the target. But we'll get him soon enough."
"You'd better," she sighed. "God…"
"Doctor, there is a problem," said one of the technicians as he moved in with a file. He handed it to Dr. Bleuth, who looked at it and frowned.
"What? What's that about?" Margot demanded.
"It's our newest patient. She seems to have an unusually strong resistance to the current therapy," said Dr. Bleuth. "In some cases drugs are necessary to facilitate the process. The usual battery... and once the patient starts to respond positively..."
"Is there any hope for her? I need to know… my son's future depends on this…" she said. "If there are any problems…"
"There shouldn't be. By tomorrow morning, we'll find your son, it's only a matter of time…"
"I hope so…"
"Castaway has said he's got his best men working on it…"
"Castaway," she nodded. "But Bill could be anywhere…"
"There is always hope. He has students who are recruits who will find your son. Especially those in the new fraternity. Their leader is a remarkable young man… and he has a personal stake in this too. Apparently it's not so bad Miss Lucia Dominguez is a patient here after all," said Dr. Bleuth.
"Why?"
"You recall Cesar Ramierez?" asked Dr. Bleuth.
"Yes… he was assaulted by Lennox MacDuff," said Margot as she remembered hearing about the case. "And he said that there were false charges of assault on him, which were later disproved…"
"He and Lucia were supposed to be married. But it turns out that he thinks she's been brainwashed by the PITT crew. He heard about your son Bill, and he thinks he's seen him recently. He personally swore to the Quarrymen at our last meeting that he wouldn't rest till Bill Yale was found and brought safely home to his mother, after being rehabilitated."
"Thank God," she whispered. "We need more upstanding men like him… but he must be worried about Lucia Dominguez…"
"He is. Either way I doubt she will be... disruptive as you describe her."