Part 10 (1/2)
Even then, all he learned was that the female patients did have their living quarters here, along with the members of the staff and--presumably--Dr. Leffingwell. Many of the women _were_ patients rather than nurses, as claimed, and a good number of them were in various stages of pregnancy, but this proved nothing.
Several times Harry debated the possibilities of taking some of the other men in his Unit into his confidence. Then he remembered what had happened to Arnold Ritchie and decided against this course. The risk was too great. He had to continue alone.
It wasn't until Harry managed to get into Unit Four that he got what he wanted (what he _didn't_ want) and learned that reality and dreams were one and the same.
There was the night, more than a year after he'd come to the treatment center, when he finally broke into the bas.e.m.e.nt and found the incinerators. And the incinerators led to the operating and delivery chambers, and the delivery chambers led to the laboratory and the laboratory led to the incubators and the incubators led to the nightmare.
In the nightmare Harry found himself looking down at the mistakes and the failures and he recognized them for what they were, and he knew then why the incinerators were kept busy and why the black smoke poured.
In the nightmare he saw the special units containing those which were not mistakes or failures, and in a way they were worse than the others. They were red and wriggling there beneath the gla.s.s, and on the gla.s.s surfaces hung the charts which gave the data. Then Harry saw the names, saw his own name repeated twice--once for Sue, once for Myrna. And he realized that he had contributed to the successful outcome or issue of the experiments (_outcome? Issue? These horrors?_) and that was why Manschoff must have chosen to take the risk of keeping him alive. Because he was one of the _good_ guinea pigs, and he had sp.a.w.ned, sp.a.w.ned living, mewing abominations.
He had dreamed of these things, and now he saw that they were real, so that nightmare merged with _now_, and he could gaze down at it with open eyes and scream at last with open mouth.
Then, of course, an attendant came running (_although he seemed to be moving ever so slowly, because everything moves so slowly in a dream_) and Harry saw him coming and lifted a bell-gla.s.s and smashed it down over the man's head (_slowly, ever so slowly_) and then he heard the others coming and he climbed out of the window and ran.
The searchlights winked across the courtyards and the sirens vomited hysteria from metallic throats and the night was filled with shadows that pursued.
But Harry knew where to run. He ran straight through the nightmare, through all the fantastic but familiar convolutions of sight and sound, and then he came to the river and plunged in.
Now the nightmare was not sight or sound, but merely sensation. Icy cold and distilled darkness; ripples that ran, then raced and roiled and roared. But there had to be a way out of the nightmare and there had to be a way out of the canyon, and that way was the river.
Apparently no one else had thought of the river; perhaps they had considered it as a possible avenue of escape and then discarded the notion when they realized how it ripped and raged among the rocks as it finally plunged from the canyon's mouth. Obviously, no one could hope to combat that current and survive.
But strange things happen in nightmares. And you fight the numbness and the blackness and you claw and convulse and you twist and turn and toss and then you ride the crests of frenzy and plunge into the troughs of panic and despair and you sweep round and round and sink down into nothingness until you break through to the freedom which comes only with oblivion.
Somewhere beyond the canyon's moiling maw, Harry Collins found that freedom and that oblivion. He escaped from the nightmare, just as he escaped from the river.
The river itself roared on without him.
And the nightmare continued, too....
5. Minnie Schultz--2009
When Frank came home, Minnie met him at the door. She didn't say a word, just handed him the envelope containing the notice.
”What's the matter?” Frank asked, trying to take her in his arms. ”You been crying.”
”Never mind.” Minnie freed herself. ”Just read what it says there.”
Frank read slowly, determinedly, his features contorted in concentration. Vocational Apt had terminated his schooling at the old grade-school level, and while like all students he had been taught enough so that he could read the necessary advertising commercials, any printed message of this sort provided a definite challenge.
Halfway through the notice he started to scowl. ”What kind of monkey business is this?”
”No monkey business. It's the new law. Everybody that gets married in Angelisco takes the shots, from now on. Fella from State Hall, he told me when he delivered this.”
”We'll see about this,” Frank muttered. ”No d.a.m.n government's gonna tell me how to run my life. Sa free country, ain't so?”
Minnie's mouth began to twitch. ”They're coming back tomorra morning, the fella said. To give me the first shots. Gee, honey, I'm scared, like. I don't want 'em.”