“Wooaaaa.”
“Sorry. I know it’s a tacky analogy, but it’s the most accurate I can think of.”
“But you’re absolutely right. I don’t want to go back. There’s nothing back there that interests me any longer.”
“See the problem? Count sheep, Denny.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Denny giggles again. “That’s very funny.”
“Count sheep — big, fat, ugly sheep. You have to try to distract yourself from the ecstasy long enough for your brain and other organs to reabsorb the drugs. There can’t be much time left, because we’re drifting closer to the Lazarus Gate. I know we’re close, because I can feel the pressure of the light on my back. I won’t go through there with you, because you’ll be beyond my help. Now close your eyes and count sheep. I’m going to come closer. If you can feel my presence entering yours, wrap your arms and legs around me and hold tight.”
“I’m not sure we know each other that well.”
“This is about life, Denny. Shared humanity. If you can become one with me, I may be able to take you back. Do it. Quickly.”
Denny Whalen continues to grin inanely, but he closes his eyes, and his lips move as he begins to count. Veil moves even closer, entering the mist that is the other man’s body. When he feels Denny’s presence, he wills himself into flight back down the corridor, slowly at first and then accelerating. Denny, still counting, comes with him. When they reach the field of electric blue, Veil rolls away from the other man and returns to his own darkness.
Denny Whalen stood outside on the sidewalk beneath the streetlight where the first Lazarus Person had been, looking up at his window. Veil did not have to check the streets surrounding the building to know the man had come alone. He selected a bottle of wine, then took two glasses from a cabinet and went downstairs. “Welcome back,” he said, walking over to the red-haired man and handing him a glass. “I’d invite you up, but I’ve been working, and I don’t like people to see my works-in-progress.”
Denny held out his glass as Veil poured wine for both of them. “It really happened, then, didn’t it?” he asked quietly.
“I suppose that depends on one’s definition of reality. Are you still interested in sending secret messages from submarines?”
“I came to thank you.”
Veil shrugged. “No need. I’m glad you made it back.”
“You brought me back. They were just about ready to give up trying to revive me. Another couple of seconds and I would have been dead.”
“You were dead.”
“I’d have been permanently dead.”
“Indeed.”
They sat down together on the curb, shoulder to shoulder, and sipped their wine in silence. Finally Denny said, “I lied to them. I told them I didn’t remember everything. I told them it didn’t work.”
“That part isn’t a lie. It doesn’t work.”
“God, dying is so private.”
“Indeed.”
“I know so much about you now, Veil.”
“No, you don’t, Denny. You just feel very close to me. There’s a difference. This is what you’ll feel with every other Lazarus Person you meet for the rest of your life.”
“No. I know you. I know the goodness in you. And I know that somehow the Company hurt you terribly.”
“They didn’t hurt me at all. I owe everything I am and have to the Company.”
“They hurt you.”
“You’re getting maudlin on me, Denny. Now drop it. That’s as private to me as dying.”
Denny sighed, nodded. “With the corpse of one field operative and a researcher who says he experienced nothing to explain, I don’t think they’ll be trying that experiment again.”
“Let’s hope not.”
“I’m quitting the agency.”
“Why?” Veil asked in a mild tone.
“I thought you’d understand.”
“Tell me.”
“You were right about how returning from the Lazarus Gate changes people. Now so much of what the Company does seems just... silly. I want to do something else with my life. I want to do what you do.”
“Paint?”
“No. Something that’s deeply satisfying to me personally. Maybe helping people.”
“While you’re trying to figure out what to do with the rest of your life, consider the possibility that you could help people by staying right where you are now. There are lots of bad guys in the world who need spying on, Denny. Leave them to their own devices, unchecked, and they’ll eat innocent people alive.”
“I assumed you hated the Company.”
“I hate the bad guys in the Company — and there’s a whole passel of them. They’re the ones who tried to hurt me. I don’t object to the CIA’s mission — just the way they go about it. Now, I happen to think having a Lazarus Person in there is a hoot. I also think it’s a great idea. You should work hard for promotion, maybe devote your life to becoming Director. A Lazarus Person would make the perfect mole, a kind of ultimate weapon against the bad guys.”
“I won’t be a weapon for anybody, Veil.”
“Exactly my point, Denny.” Veil smiled as he raised his glass. “Here’s to a long and illustrious career in the CIA, Denny. Cheers.”
A New Life
by Edward D. Hoch
© 1996 by Edward D. Hoch
A decade ago, the best of the Leopold stories appeared in a volume published by Southern Illinois University Press entitled Leopold’s Way. Since author Edward D. Hoch has allowed his character to age, the Leopold we see today is different in many respects from the police captain of those early stories. One thing about Leopold hasn’t changed though, and that’s his ability to crack a case.
Casper Stone had come to appreciate every little break in the sodden routine of his life behind bars. A trip to the dentist could liven up an entire week, and even a trial on an unresolved charge of bail-jumping brought a break in the endless days. He didn’t even mind that they handcuffed his wrists and chained his ankles, so long as they took him away from the clamor and clash of the cellblock.
The trial, in the old courthouse on Seward Street, attracted a fair amount of media attention. Casper Stone had been convicted of man-slaughter just five months earlier, and there was a general belief that the relatively light sentence he received — four to eight years — had caused the District Attorney to press the bail-jumping charge. There were two holding cells in the old courthouse where the trial was being held. They were really cages of heavy wire mesh, not designed to hold prisoners for more than a few hours at a time. There was a sink but no toilet, and a single low stool for sitting. When Casper Stone was placed in the cell, it was nine-thirty in the morning; the trial was scheduled for ten.
The first thing Stone noticed about the holding cell was the wire mesh screen that covered a small square hole beneath the sink. It was on an inside wall and apparently provided access to the plumbing fixtures. He gave it a kick and was startled when it moved. The screws fastening it to the wall had not been tightened. What a joke it would be if he could squeeze through that opening somehow and escape!