They were gathered as usual in Dr. Steelton's office, the Old Man, Steelton himself, a Colonel Gibsy who was chief of staff, a lieutenant colonel whom I knew only by sight, and an odd lot of sergeant-technicians, j.o.'s, and flunkies. In the army it seems to take an eight-man working party to help a brass hat blow his nose; that is one reason why I left the service.
The Old Man's eyebrows shot up when he saw me but he said nothing. A sergeant who seemed to be doorman tried to stop me. "Good morning, Mrs. Nivens," he said to Mary; then to me he added, "I don't seem to have you on the list."
"I'm putting myself on the list," I announced to the entire room and pushed on past him.
Colonel Gibsy glared at me and turned to the Old Man with one of those "Hrrumph-hrrumph-what's-all-this?" noises. The Old Man did not answer but his eyebrows went still higher. The rest looked frozen faced and tried to pretend they weren't there-except one WAC sergeant who could not keep from grinning.
The Old Man got up, said to Gibsy, "Just a moment. Colonel." and limped over to me. In a voice that reached me alone, he said, "Son, you promised me."
"And I withdraw it. You had no business exacting a promise from a man about his wife. You were talking out of turn."
"You've no business here, son. You are not skilled in these matters. For Mary's sake, get out."
Up to that moment it had not occurred to me to question the Old Man's right to stay-but I found myself announcing my decision as I made it. "You are the one with no business here-you are not an analyst. So get out."
The Old Man glanced at Mary and so did I. Nothing showed in her face; she might have been waiting for me to make change. The Old Man said slowly, "You been eating raw meat, son?"
I answered, "It's my wife who is being experimented on; from here on I make the rules-or there won't be any experiments."
Colonel Gibsy butted in with, "Young man, are you out of your mind?"
I said, "What's your status here?" I glanced at his hands and added, "That's a V.M.I, ring, isn't it? Have you any other qualifications? Are you an M.D.? Or a psychologist?"
He drew himself up and tried to look dignified-pretty difficult dressed in your skin, unless your dignity is built in, the way Mary's is. "You seem to forget that this is a military reservation."
"And you seem to forget that my wife and I aren't military personnel!" I added, "Come on, Mary. We're leaving."
"Yes, Sam."
I added to the Old Man, "I'll tell the offices where to send our mail." I started for the door with Mary following me.
The Old Man said, "Just a moment, as a favor to me." I stopped and he went on to Gibsy, "Colonel, will you step outside with me? I'd like a word in private."
Colonel Gibsy gave me a general-court-martial look but he went. We all waited. Mary sat down but I did not. The juniors continued to be poker-faced, the lieutenant colonel looked perturbed, and the little sergeant seemed about to burst. Steelton was the only one who appeared unconcerned. He took papers out of his "incoming" basket and commenced quietly to work on them.
It was ten or fifteen minutes later that a sergeant came in. "Dr. Steelton, the Commanding Officer says to go ahead."
"Very well. Sergeant," he acknowledged, then looked at me, and said, "Let's go into the operating room."
I said, "Not so fast. Who are the rest of these supernumeraries? How about them?" I indicated the lieutenant colonel.
"Eh? He's Dr. Hazelhurst-two years on Venus."
"Okay, he stays." I caught the eye of the sergeant with the grin and said, "What's your job here, sister?"
"Me? Oh, I'm sort of a chaperone."
"I'm taking over the chaperone business. Now, Doctor, suppose you sort out the spare wheels from the people you actually need for your work."
"Certainly, sir." It turned out that he wanted no one but Colonel Hazelhurst. I gathered an impression that he was glad to get rid of the gallery. We went on inside-Mary, myself, and the two specialists.
The operating room contained a psychiatrist's couch surrounded by a semi-circle of chairs. The double snout of a tri-dim camera poked unobtrusively out of the overhead; I suppose the mike was hidden in the couch. Mary went to the couch and sat down; Dr. Steelton got out an injector. "We'll try to pick up where we left off, Mrs. Nivens."
I said, "Just a moment. You have records of the earlier attempts?"
"Of course."
"Let's play them over first. I want to come up to date."
He hesitated, then answered, "If you wish. Mrs. Nivens, I suggest that you wait in my office. No, it will take quite a long time; suppose I send for you later?"
It was probably just the contrary mood that I was in; bucking the Old Man had gotten me hiked up with adrenaline. "Let's find out first if she wants to leave."
Steelton looked surprised. "You don't know what you are suggesting. These records would be emotionally disturbing to your wife, even harmful."
Hazelhurst put in, "Very questionable therapy, young man."
I said, "This isn't therapy and you know it. If therapy had been your object you would have used eidetic recall technique instead of drugs."
Steelton looked worried. "There was not time for that. We had to use rough methods for quick results. I'm not sure that I can authorize the subject to see the records."
Hazelhurst put in, "I agree with you. Doctor."
I exploded. "Damn it, nobody asked you to authorize anything and you haven't got any authority in the matter. Those records were snitched right out of my wife's head and they belong to her. I'm sick of you people trying to play God. I don't like it in a slug and I don't like it any better in a human being. She'll make up her own mind whether or not she wants to see them and whether or not I or anybody else will see them. Now ask her!"
Steelton said, "Mrs. Nivens, do you wish to see your records?"
Mary answered, "Yes, Doctor, I'd like very much to see them."
He seemed surprised. "Uh, to be sure. Do you wish to see them by yourself?" He glanced at me.
"My husband and I will see them. You and Dr. Hazelhurst are welcome to remain, if you wish."
Which they did. Presently a whole stack of tape spools were brought in, each labeled with attributed dates and ages. It would have taken us hours to go through them all, so I discarded those which concerned Mary's life after about 1991. I could not see how they could affect the problem and Mary could see them later if she wished.
We started out with her very early life. Each record started with the subject-Mary, that is-choking and groaning and struggling the way people always do when they are being forced back on a memory track which they would rather not follow, then would come the reconstruction, both in Mary's voice and in other voices. What surprised me most was Mary's face-in the tank, I mean. We had the magnification stepped up so that the stereo image of her face was practically in our laps and one could follow every change of expression.
First her face became that of a little girl-oh, her features were the same grown-up features but I knew that I was seeing my darling as she must have been when she was very small. It made me hope that we would have a little girl ourselves.
Then her expression would change to match when other actors out of her memory took over. It was like watching an incredibly able monologist playing many parts.
Mary took it with apparent serenity but her hand stole into mine. When we came to the terrible part when her parents changed, became not her parents but slaves of slugs, she clamped down on my fingers so hard that it would have crushed a hand less hamlike than my own. But she controlled herself.