7
The dispiriting task of assessing damage at the Harlow research institute took several days. At the end, Martin estimated that the "animal- rights" raid had caused a two-year setback. From the ashes of a burned pile of papers and other records outside the building, some assorted material was salvaged, but not much. Later, Nigel Bentley reported to Martin, "Those nut cases apparently knew what they were looking for, and where everything was. That means they had inside help which, according to the police, fits the pattern of other raids they've made. What they do, I'm told, is persuade people like cleaners and maintenance staff to become informers. I'll try to find out who were our Judases, though I haven't much hope.”
Bentley was also putting into effect strong and expensive security precautions for the future. As he expressed it, "In a way, it's an exercise in stable-door shutting, but those self-righteous people don't give up easily and could be back.”
Martin, in turn, reported to New Jersey by telephone the day after the raid. He talked with Celia Jordan. A few days earlier Martin had been delighted to learn of Celia's return to the company; now he expressed regret that their first conversation should involve bad news. Celia was shocked to learn of the Harlow devastation-so much in contrast to the recent heady progress reports concerning Peptide 7. She questioned Martin sharply about his estimate of delay. "What we'll have to do," he advised her, "is repeat all the animal experiments to recover our data, which will be needed, of course, to accompany any drug application the company eventually makes. It's a terrible time waste and cost, but there isn't any choice.”
"Are you sure about two years?" "That's the worst case. If we can shave a few months from that time, we will. We know a great deal more than we did two years ago, and some shortcuts may appear. We'll all do our best.”
"I want you to know," Celia said, "that Peptide 7 has become tremendously important to us here. Do you remember a conversation you and I had at your home? When you said that given more time, you'd produce an important medication which could make Felding-Roth enormously rich? Those last two words were yours.”
At the Harlow end of the line, Martin grimaced.”I'm afraid I do remember. I wasn't behaving like a scientist, and I hope that conversation doesn't go further than the two of us.”
"It won't. But I remind you of it because the first part of your prediction came true. Now we desperately need the rest.”
"Two years to get back where we were," Martin repeated.” Shortcuts or no, it won't be much less.”
But the conversation spurred him to hasten reorganizing. Replacement animals were ordered promptly from supply houses, and as they arrived the institute staff commenced the tiresome rote of repeating work begun long ago. As a result, within three weeks the data recovery process was moving at full speed. Through the entire ordeal, from the night of the raid onward, Yvonne sustained Martin in body and spirit. She took total charge of his domestic life, asking him nothing, doing everything, so that neither his attention nor energy was diverted from the institute. At other times she comforted him, seeming to know instinctively when to be silently attentive or, at other moments, to amuse him with cheerful chatter. Once, after an especially grueling day, she told him at bedtime to lie face down, and when he did, gave him a slow Swedish massage which sent him into a deep sleep that lasted until morning. When Martin asked next day how she learned to do such things, she answered, "I once roomed with a friend who was a masseuse. She taught me.”
"I've noticed something about you," he said.”You never miss a chance to learn. The same way you did by working at John Locke. Have you read any more from him lately?" "Yes.”
Yvonne hesitated, then said, "I found something he wrote which kind of fits those 'animal-rights' people. About enthusiasm.”
Martin said curiously, "I'm not sure I remember. Can you find the passage?" Locke's Essay was across the room, but without bothering to get it, Yvonne began:
"Immediate revelation being a much easier way for men to establish their opinions and regulate their conduct than the tedious and not always successful labor of strict reasoning, it is no wonder that some have been very apt to pretend to revelation, and to persuade themselves that they are under the peculiar guidance of heaven in their actions and opinions...”
As she recited, obviously from memory, Martin regarded her with astonishment. Observing him, she stopped, blushed slightly, then continued. "Their minds being thus prepared, whatever groundless opinion comes to settle itself strongly upon their fancies is an illumination from the Spirit of God and presently of divine authority; and whatsoever odd action they find in themselves a strong inclination to do, that impulse is concluded to be a call or direction from heaven...”
Yvonne stopped, giggled, then said with embarrassment, "That's enough.”
"No, no!" Martin urged, "Go on, please! If you can.”
She said doubtfully, "You're making fun of me.”
"Not in any slightest way.”
"All right.”
She recited again.
“....enthusiasm, which, though founded neither on reason nor divine revelation, but rising from the conceits of a warmed or overweening brain... men being most forwardly obedient to the impulses they receive from themselves... For strong conceit, like a new principle, carries all easily with it, when got above common sense, and freed from all restraint of reason...”
Yvonne concluded the passage, then stopped, those blue, innocent-appearing eyes fixed on Martin, making clear she was still wondering about his reaction, doubtful of herself He said, his tone incredulous, "I do recall that quotation now. And I don't believe you got a single word wrong. How did you do it?" "Well... I remember things.”
"Anything? And always in such detail?" "I suppose SO.”
It reminded Martin that even when reporting trivial gossip, Yvonne always seemed to have the details right-names, dates, places, sources, background facts. He had noted that subconsciously, but without significance until now. He asked, "How many times do you have to read something until you've memorized it?" "Once, mostly. But with Locke it was twice.”
Yvonne still looked uncomfortable, as if Martin had uncovered a guilty secret. He said, "I want to try something.”
Going to another room, he found a book he was sure Yvonne had not seen before. It was Locke's The Conduct of the Understanding. Opening it to a page he had once marked, he told her, "Read this. From here to here.”
"Can I read it twice?" "Of course.”
She put her head down, her long blond hair tumbling forward while she frowned in concentration, then she lowered the book. Martin took it from her and instructed, "Now tell me what you read.”
He followed the words as she repeated them.
"There are fundamental truths that lie at the bottom, the basis upon which a great many others rest, and in which they have their consistency. These are teeming truths, rich in store, with which they furnish the mind, and, like the lights of heaven, are not only beautiful and entertaining in themselves, but give light and evidence to other things, that without them could not be seen or known. Such is that admirable discovery of Mr. Newton that all bodies gravitate...”
She went on for several paragraphs more, Martin finding each word exactly as printed in the book he held. At the end, Yvonne pronounced, "That piece is beautiful.”
"So are you," he told her.”And so is what you have. Do you know what it is?" Again that unease, the hesitation.”You tell me.”
"You've a photographic memory. It's something special and unique. Surely you must have known.”
"In a way. But I never wanted to be different. Not a circus freak.”