Once the door to the lab had closed behind them, Edward grinned and asked, “What on earth has gotten into you?”
“I just want to talk to you,” Kim explained. “I had a thought that maybe you could include in the clinical protocol of Ultra.”
Kim explained to Edward what she’d thought about grief and expanded the notion to include anxiety and melancholy, saying that moderate amounts of these emotionally painful feelings play a positive role as motivators of human growth, change, and creativity. She concluded by saying, “What I’m worried about is that taking a drug like Ultra that modulates these mental states may have a hidden cost and could cause a serious negative side effect that would not be anticipated.”
Edward smiled and slowly nodded his head. He was impressed. “I appreciate your concern,” he said. “It's an interesting thought you have, but I don't share it. You see, it's based on a false premise, namely that the mind is somehow mystically apart from the material body. That old hypothesis has been debunked by recent experience that shows that the mind and the body are one even in regards to mood and emotion. Emotion has been proved to be biologically determined by the fact that it is affected by drugs like Prozac, which alter levels of neurotransmitters. It has revolutionized ideas about brain function.”
“That kind of thinking is dehumanizing,” Kim complained.
“Let me put it another way,” Edward said. “What about pain? Do you think drugs should be taken for pain?”
“Pain is different,” Kim said, but she could see the philosophical trap Edward was laying for her.
“I don’t think so,” Edward said. “Pain, too, is biological. Since physical pain and psychic pain are both biological, they should both be treated the same, namely with well-designed drugs that target only those parts of the brain responsible.”
Kim felt frustrated. She wanted to ask Edward where the world would be if Mozart and Beethoven had been on drugs for anxiety or depression. But she did not say anything. She knew it was no use. The scientist in Edward blinded him.
Edward gave Kim an exuberant hug and reiterated how much he appreciated her interest in his work. He then patted the top of her head.
“We’ll talk more about this issue if you’d like,” he said. “But now I better get back to work.”
Kim apologized for bothering him and started back for the cottage.
15
Thursday, September 29, 1994
Over the next several days Kim was again tempted on several occasions to give Ultra a try. Her gradually mounting anxiety had begun to affect her sleep. But each time she was on the brink of taking the drug, she pulled back.
Instead Kim tried to use her anxiety as a motivator. Each day she spent more than ten hours working in the castle and quit only when it became difficult for her to see well enough to read the handwritten pages. Unfortunately, her increased efforts were to no avail. She began to wish that she would find some seventeenth-century material, even if it had no association with Elizabeth, just to encourage her.
The presence of the plumbers turned out to be a pleasant diversion rather than an imposition. Whenever Kim took a break she at least had someone to talk with. She even watched them work for a time, intrigued with the use of the blowtorch for soldering copper tubing.
The only indication that Kim noticed that the researchers were sleeping in the castle was dirt tracked in from both entrances to the wings. Although some soiling was to be expected, she thought the amount involved suggested surprising inconsiderateness.
Edward’s assertive, happy, and caring mood continued. With a gesture reminiscent of their initial dating days, Edward even had a large bouquet sent to the house on Tuesday with a note that said, In Loving Gratitude.
The only alteration in his behavior occurred on Thursday morning when Kim was just about to leave the cottage for the castle. Edward came through the front door in a huff. Obviously irritated, he slammed his address book down on the table next to the telephone, putting Kim immediately on edge. “Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Damn right something is wrong,” he said. “I have to come all the way up here to use the phone. When I use one at the lab every one of those twits listens to my conversation. It drives me nuts.”
“Why didn’t you use the phone in the empty reception area?” Kim asked.
“They listen when I go there too,” he said.
“Through the walls?” she questioned.
“I’ve got to call the goddamn head of the Harvard Licensing Office,” Edward complained, ignoring Kim’s comment. “That jerk has launched a personal vendetta against me.” Edward opened his address book to find the number.
“Could it be that he’s just doing his job?” Kim asked, knowing this was an ongoing controversy.
“You think he’s doing his job by getting me suspended?” Edward yelled. “It’s incredible! I never would have guessed the little dick-headed bureaucrat had the nerve to pull off such a stunt.”
Kim felt her heart pounding. Edward’s tone reminded her of the glass-throwing episode in his apartment. She was afraid to say anything else.
“Ah, well,” Edward said in a completely calm tone of voice. He smiled. “Such is life. There’s always these little ups and downs.” He sat down and dialed his number.
Kim allowed herself to relax a degree, but she didn’t take her eyes off Edward. She listened while he had a civilized conversation with the man he’d just railed against. When he got off the phone he said that the man was quite reasonable after all.
“As long as I’m here,” Edward said, “I’ll dash upstairs and get the dry cleaning together that you asked me to take care of yesterday.”
Edward started for the stairs.
“But you already got the dry cleaning together,” Kim said. “You must have done it this morning, because I found it when I got up.”
Edward stopped and blinked as if he were confused. “I did?” he asked. Then he added: “Well, good for me! I should be getting right back to the lab anyway.”
“Edward?” Kim called to him before he went out the front door. “Are you all right? You’ve been forgetting little things lately.”
Edward laughed. “It’s true,” he said. “I’ve been a bit forgetful. But I’ve never felt better. I’m just preoccupied. But there’s light at the end of the tunnel, and we’re all about to be extremely rich. And that includes you. I spoke to Stanton about giving you some stock, and he agreed. So you’ll be part of the big payoff.”
“I’m flattered,” Kim said.
Kim went to the window and watched Edward walk back to the lab. She watched him the whole way, pondering his behavior. He was now more congenial toward her on the whole, but he was also unpredictable.
Impulsively Kim got her car keys and headed into town. She needed to talk to someone professional whose opinion she valued. Conveniently, Kinnard was still in the area. Using the phone at the information desk in the Salem Hospital, she had him paged.
A half hour later he met her in the coffee shop. He was dressed in surgical scrub clothes, having come directly from surgery. She had been nursing a cup of tea.
“I hope I’m not bothering you terribly,” Kim said the moment he sat down across from her.
“It’s good to see you,” Kinnard said.
“I needed to ask a question,” she said. “Could forgetfulness be a side effect of a psychotropic drug?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “But I have to qualify that by saying that a lot of things can affect short-term memory. It’s a very nonspecific symptom. Should I assume that Edward is having such a problem?”
“Can I count on your discretion?” she asked.
“I’ve already told you as much,” Kinnard said. “Are Edward and his team still taking the drug?”