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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #68170 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68170)
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-The Project Gutenberg eBook of Dream's end, by Henry Kuttner
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
-most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
-whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
-of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
-www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
-will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
-using this eBook.
-
-Title: Dream's end
-
-Author: Henry Kuttner
-
-Release Date: May 25, 2022 [eBook #68170]
-
-Language: English
-
-Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan, Alex White & the online
- Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at
- https://www.pgdpcanada.net
-
-*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAM'S END ***
-
-
-
-
-
- DREAM’S END
-
- By HENRY KUTTNER
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Startling Stories, July 1947.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
- _Risking his own life force to cure a
- patient’s psychosis, Dr. Robert Bruno learns
- of the true individualism of human minds!_
-
-
-The sanitarium was never quiet. Even when night brought comparative
-stillness, there was an anticipatory tension in the air—for cyclic
-mental disorders are as inevitable, though not as regular, as the swing
-of a merry-go-round.
-
-Earlier that evening Gregson, in Ward 13, had moved into the downswing
-of his manic-depressive curve, and there had been trouble. Before the
-orderlies could buckle him into a restraining jacket, he had managed to
-break the arm of a “frozen” catatonic patient, who had made no sound
-even as the bone snapped.
-
-Under apomorphine, Gregson subsided. After a few days he would be at the
-bottom of his psychic curve, dumb, motionless, and disinterested.
-Nothing would be able to rouse him then, for a while.
-
-Dr. Robert Bruno, Chief of Staff, waited till the nurse had gone out
-with the no longer sterile hypodermic. Then he nodded at the orderly.
-
-“All right. Prepare the patient. I want him in Surgery Three in half an
-hour.”
-
-He went out into the corridor, a tall, quiet man with cool blue eyes and
-firm lips. Dr. Kenneth Morrissey was waiting for him. The younger man
-looked troubled.
-
-“Surgery, Doctor?”
-
-“Come on,” Bruno said. “We’ve got to get ready. How’s Wheeler?”
-
-“Simple fracture of the radius, I think. I’m having plates made.”
-
-“Turn him over to one of the other doctors,” Bruno suggested. “I need
-your help.” He used his key on the locked door. “Gregson’s in good shape
-for the experiment.”
-
-Morrissey didn’t answer. Bruno laughed a little.
-
-“What’s bothering you, Ken?”
-
-“It’s the word experiment,” Morrissey said.
-
-“Pentothal narcosynthesis was an experiment when they first tried it. So
-is this—empathy surrogate. If there’s a risk, I’ll be taking it, not
-Gregson.”
-
-“You can’t be sure.”
-
-They stepped into the elevator.
-
-“I _am_ sure,” Bruno said, with odd emphasis. “That’s been my rule all
-my life. I make sure. I’ve got to _be_ sure before I undertake anything
-new. This experiment can’t possibly fail. I don’t run risks with
-patients.”
-
-“Well—”
-
-“Come in here.” Bruno led the way from the elevator to an examination
-room. “I want a final check-up. Try my blood-pressure.” He stripped off
-his white coat and deftly wound the pneumatic rubber around his arm.
-
-“I’ve explained the whole situation to Gregson’s wife.” Bruno went on as
-Morrissey squeezed the bulb. “She’s signed the authorization papers. She
-knows it’s the only chance to cure Gregson. After all, Ken, the man’s
-been insane for seven years. Cerebral deterioration’s beginning to set
-in.”
-
-“Cellular, you mean? Um-m. I’m not worried about that. Blood-pressure
-okay. Heart—”
-
-Morrissey picked up a stethoscope. After a while he nodded.
-
-“A physician hasn’t any right to be afraid of the dark,” Bruno said.
-
-“A physician isn’t charting unmapped territory,” Morrissey said
-abruptly. “You can dissect a cadaver, but you can’t do that to the
-psyche. As a psychiatrist you should be the first to admit that we don’t
-know all there is to know about the mind. Would you take a transfusion
-from a meningitis patient?”
-
-Bruno chuckled. “Witchcraft, Ken—pure witchcraft! The germ theory of
-psychosis! Afraid I’ll catch Gregson’s insanity? I hate to disillusion
-you, but episodic disorders aren’t contagious.”
-
-“Just because you can’t see a bug doesn’t mean it isn’t there,”
-Morrissey growled. “What about a filterable virus? A few years ago
-nobody could conceive of liquid life.”
-
-“Next you’ll be going back to Elizabethan times and talking about spleen
-and humors.” Bruno resumed his shirt and coat. He sobered. “In a way,
-though, this _is_ a transfusion. The only type of transfusion possible.
-I’ll admit no one knows all there is to know about psychoses. Nobody
-knows what makes a man think, either. But that’s where physics is
-beginning to meet medicine. Witchcraft and medicine isolated digitalin
-when they met. And scientists are beginning to know the nature of
-thought—an electronic pattern of energy.”
-
-“Empirical!”
-
-“Compare not the brain, but the mind itself, to a uranium pile,” Bruno
-said. “The potentialities for atomic explosion are in the mind because
-you can’t make a high-specialized colloid for thinking without
-approaching the danger level. It’s the price humans pay for being _homo
-sapiens_. In a uranium pile you’ve got boron-steel bars as dampers, to
-absorb the neutrons before they can get out of control. In the mind,
-those dampers are purely psychic, naturally—but they’re what keep a man
-sane.”
-
-“You can prove anything by symbolism,” Morrissey said sourly. “And you
-can’t stick bars of boron-steel in Gregson’s skull.”
-
-“Yes, I can,” Bruno said. “In effect.”
-
-“But those dampers are—_ideas_! Thoughts! You can’t—”
-
-“What is a thought?” Bruno asked.
-
-Morrissey grimaced and followed the Chief of Staff out.
-
-“You can chart a thought on the encephalograph—” he said stubbornly.
-
-“Because it’s a radiation. What causes that radiation? Energy emitted by
-certain electronic patterns. What causes electronic patterns? The basic
-physical structure of matter. What causes uranium to throw off neutrons
-under special conditions? Same answer. If an uranium pile starts to get
-out of control, you can damp it, if you move fast, with boron or
-cadmium.”
-
-“If you move fast. Why use Gregson? He’s been insane for years.”
-
-“If he’d been insane for only a week, we couldn’t prove it was the
-empathy surrogate that cured him. You’re just arguing to dodge the
-responsibility. If you don’t want to help me, I’ll get somebody else.”
-
-“It would take weeks to train another man,” Morrissey said. “No, I’ll
-operate. Only—have you thought of the possible effect on your own
-mind?”
-
-“Certainly,” Bruno said. “Why the devil do you suppose I’ve been running
-exhaustive psychological tests on myself? I’m completely oriented, I’m
-so normal that my mind must be full of boron dampers.” He paused at the
-door of his office. “Barbara’s here. I’ll meet you in Surgery.”
-
-Morrissey’s shoulders slumped. Bruno smiled slightly and opened the
-door. His wife was sitting on a leather couch, idly turning the pages of
-a psychiatric review.
-
-“Studying?” Bruno said. “Want a job as a nurse?”
-
-“Hello, darling,” she said, tossing the magazine aside.
-
-She came toward him quickly. She was small and dark and, Bruno thought
-academically, extremely pretty. Then his thoughts stopped being academic
-as he kissed her.
-
-“What’s up?”
-
-“You’re doing that operation tonight, aren’t you? I wanted to wish you
-luck.”
-
-“How’d you know?”
-
-“Bob,” she said, “we’ve been married long enough so I can read your mind
-a little. I don’t know what the operation is, but I know it’s important.
-So—for luck!”
-
-She kissed him again. Then, with a smile and a nod, she slipped out and
-was gone. Dr. Robert Bruno sighed, not unhappily, and sat behind his
-desk. He used the annunciator to check the sanitarium’s routine, made
-certain everything was running smoothly, and clicked his tongue with
-satisfaction.
-
-Now—the experiment....
-
- * * * * *
-
-Surgery Three had some new equipment for the experiment. Bruno’s
-collaborator, Andrew Parsons, the atomic physicist, was there, small and
-untidy, with a scowling, wrinkled face that looked incongruous under the
-surgeon’s cap. There was to be no real surgery; trepanning wasn’t
-necessary, but aseptic precautions were taken as a matter of course.
-
-The anesthetist and two other nurses stood ready, and Morrissey, in his
-white gown, seemed to have forgotten his worry and had settled down to
-his usual quiet competence. Gregson was on one of the tables, already
-prepped and unconscious. Intravenous anesthesia would presently
-supplement the apomorphine in his system, as it would also be
-administered to Bruno himself.
-
-Ferguson and Dale, two other doctors, were present. At worst quick
-cerebral surgery might be necessary, if anything went badly amiss. But
-nothing could, Bruno thought. Nothing could.
-
-He glanced at the sleek, shining machines, with their attachments and
-registering dials. Not medical equipment, of course. They were in
-Parsons’ line; he had planned and built them. But the idea had been
-Bruno’s to begin with, and Bruno’s psychiatric knowledge had
-complemented Parsons’ technology. Two branches of science had met, and
-the result would be—a specific for insanity.
-
-Two spots on Bruno’s head had been shaved clean. Parsons carefully
-affixed electrodes, which were already in place on Gregson’s skull.
-
-“Remember,” Parsons said, “you should be as relaxed as possible.”
-
-“You took no sedative, Doctor,” Morrissey said.
-
-“I don’t need one. The anesthetic will be enough.”
-
-The nurses moved with silent competence about the table. The emergency
-oxygen apparatus was tested. The adrenalin was checked; the sterilizer
-steamed on its table. Bruno emptied his mind and relaxed as a nurse
-swabbed his arm with alcohol.
-
-Superimposure of the electronic mental matrix of sanity ... psychic
-rapport ... the pattern of his sanity-dampers would be fixed
-unalterably in the twisted, warped mind of the manic-depressive.
-
-He felt the sting of the needle. Automatically he began counting. One.
-Two. Three....
-
-He opened his eyes. The face of Morrissey, intent and abstracted, hung
-over him. Beyond Morrissey was the bright ceiling fluorescent, glaring
-down with a brilliance that made Bruno blink. His arm stung slightly but
-otherwise there were no after effects.
-
-“Can you hear me, Doctor?” Morrissey said.
-
-Bruno nodded. “Yes. I’m awake now.” His tongue was a little thick. That
-was natural. “Gregson?”
-
-But Morrissey’s face was growing smaller. No, it was receding. The
-ceiling light shrank. _He was falling_—
-
-He shot down with blinding rapidity. White walls rushed up past him.
-Morrissey’s face receded to a shining dot far above. It grew darker as
-he fell. Winds screamed, and there was a slow, gradually increasing
-thundering like an echo resounding from the floor of this monstrous
-abyss.
-
-Down and down, faster and faster, with the white walls fading to gray
-and to black, till he was blind, till he was deafened with that roaring
-echo.
-
-Visibility returned. Everything was out of focus. He blinked, swallowed,
-and made out the rectangular shape of a bedside screen. There was
-something else, white and irregular.
-
-“Are you awake, Doctor?”
-
-“Hello, Harwood,” Bruno said to the nurse. “How long have I been out?”
-
-“About two hours. I’ll call Dr. Morrissey.”
-
-She stepped out of the room. Bruno flexed his muscles experimentally. He
-felt all right. Not even a headache. His vision was normal now. He
-instinctively reached for his wrist and began counting the pulse.
-Through the window he could see the slow motion of a branch, the leaves
-fluttering in a gentle wind. Footsteps sounded.
-
-“Congratulations,” Morrissey said, coming to the bed. “Gregson’s in
-shock, but he’s already beginning to come out of it. No prognosis yet,
-but I’ll bet a cookie you’ve done it.”
-
-Bruno let out his breath in a long sigh. “You think so?”
-
-Morrissey laughed. “Don’t tell me you weren’t sure!”
-
-“I’m always sure,” Bruno said. “Just the same, confirmation’s always
-pleasant. I’m thirsty as the devil. Get me some ice, Ken, will you?”
-
-“All right.” Morrissey leaned out of the door and called the nurse. Then
-he came back and lowered the Venetian blind. “Sun in your eyes. That
-better? How do you feel, or need I ask?”
-
-“Quite normal. No ill effects at all. Say, you’d better notify Barbara
-I’m alive.”
-
-“I already have. She’s coming over. Meanwhile, Parsons is outside. Want
-to see him?”
-
-“Sure.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-The physicist must have been near the door, for he appeared almost
-instantly.
-
-“I’ll have to depend on you now,” he said. “Psychiatric examinations are
-out of my line, but Dr. Morrissey tells me we’ve apparently succeeded.”
-
-“We can’t be sure yet,” Bruno said cautiously, reaching for cracked ice.
-“I’m keeping my fingers crossed.”
-
-“How do you feel?”
-
-“If there’s a healthier specimen in this hospital than Dr. Bruno,”
-Morrissey said, “I’ve yet to hear of it. I’ll be back. I’ve got to check
-a patient.” He went out.
-
-Bruno lay back on his pillow.
-
-“I’ll be up and around tomorrow,” he said, “and I’ll want to make some
-tests on Gregson then. Meanwhile, I’ll relax—for a change. One good
-thing about this place; the routine’s so perfect that you can unhitch
-yourself completely and let yourself rest, if you want to. A dependable
-staff.”
-
-The Venetian blind clattered in the wind. Parsons grunted and went
-toward it, taking hold of the cord.
-
-He raised the blind and stood there, his back to Bruno. But it was dark
-outside the window.
-
-“The sun was in my eyes,” Bruno said. “Wait a minute! That was only a
-little while ago. Parsons, something’s wrong!”
-
-“What?” Parsons asked, without turning.
-
-“Morrissey said I was unconscious for only two hours. And I took
-anesthesia at half-past nine. At night! But the sun was shining in that
-window when I woke up, a few minutes ago!”
-
-“It’s night now,” Parsons said.
-
-“It can’t be. Get Morrissey. I want to—”
-
-But Parsons suddenly leaned forward and opened the window. Then he
-jumped out and vanished.
-
-“_Morrissey!_” Bruno shouted.
-
-Morrissey came in. He didn’t look at Bruno. He walked quickly across the
-room and jumped out of the window into the darkness.
-
-Ferguson and Dale entered, still in their operating gowns. They followed
-Morrissey through the window.
-
-Bruno hoisted himself up. Three nurses came through the door. An intern
-and an orderly followed. Then others.
-
-In nightmare procession the staff filed into Bruno’s room. In deadly
-silence they walked to the window and jumped out.
-
-The blankets slipped down from Bruno’s body. He saw them sail slowly
-toward the window—
-
-The bed was tilting! No—the room itself was turning, revolving, till
-Bruno clung frantically to the head-board while gravity dragged him
-inexorably toward a window that now gaped directly below him.
-
-The bed fell. It spilled Bruno out. He saw the oblong of the window
-opening like a mouth to swallow him. He plunged through into utter
-blackness, into an echoing, roaring hell of night and thunder....
-
-“Oh, good heavens!” Bruno moaned. “What a dream! Morrissey, get me a
-sedative!”
-
-The psychiatrist laughed. “You’ve had a dream-within-a-dream before,
-haven’t you, Doctor? It sounds unnerving, but now you’ve told me all
-about it. The catharsis is better than a barbiturate.”
-
-“I suppose so.” Bruno lay back in the bed.
-
-This wasn’t the room he had dreamed about. It was much larger, and
-outside the windows was normal darkness. Morrissey had said that the
-anesthetic had lasted for several hours.
-
-“Anyway, I’m jittery,” Bruno said.
-
-“I didn’t know you had any nerves.... Here, Harwood.” Morrissey
-turned to the nurse and scribbled down a few symbols on a pad. “There.
-We’ll get your sedative. Don’t you want to know about Gregson?”
-
-“I’d forgotten about him completely,” Bruno acknowledged. “Can you tell
-anything definite yet?”
-
-“We caught him on the downcurve of the depressive cycle, remember? Well,
-he isn’t talking yet, but there’s a touch of euphoria. The elation will
-wear off. One thing, you’ve broken the cycle. His mind isn’t adjusted
-yet to those—damper bars you put in ’em, but off-hand, I’d say it looks
-pretty good.”
-
-“What does Parsons think?”
-
-“He’s immersed in calculations. Said he’d be around to see you as soon
-as you woke up. Here’s that sedative.”
-
-Bruno accepted the capsules from the nurse and washed them down with
-water.
-
-“Thanks. I’d rather rest a bit. I must have unconsciously piled up quite
-a lot of tension.”
-
-“So I gather,” Morrissey said drily. “Well, here’s the bell-cord.
-Anything else?”
-
-“Just rest.” Bruno hesitated. “Oh—one thing.” He extended his arm.
-“Pinch it.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-Morrissey stared and chuckled.
-
-“Still not sure you’re awake? I can assure you you are, Doctor. I’m not
-going to jump out of the window. And it’s still night, you’ll notice.”
-
-When Bruno didn’t move, Morrissey pinched up a fold of the other’s
-forearm between thumb and finger.
-
-“Ouch!” Bruno said. “Thanks.”
-
-“Any time,” Morrissey said cheerfully. “Get some rest now. I’ll be
-back.”
-
-He went out with the nurse. Bruno blew out his breath and let his gaze
-wander around the room. Everything looked perfectly solid and normal. No
-black, thundering abyss lurked under the floor. An unpleasant dream!
-
-He reached for pad and pencil and made careful notes on the curious
-double-delusion before he let himself relax. Then he felt the sedative
-creeping slowly along his nerves, a warm, pleasant sensation that he was
-glad to encourage. He didn’t want to think. Later would be time enough.
-The empathy surrogate experiment, Gregson, the physicist Parsons,
-Barbara—later!
-
-He drowsed. It seemed only a moment before he opened his eyes to see
-sunlight beyond the window. Brief panic touched him, then he looked at
-his wrist-watch and was reassured to see that it said eleven o’clock. He
-could hear the muffled sounds of the ordinary hospital routine going on
-outside door and window. Presently, feeling refreshed, he got up and
-dressed.
-
-In Nurse Harwood’s office he telephoned Morrissey, exchanged brief
-greetings, and then went to his own office to shower and shave.
-
-He telephoned Barbara.
-
-“Hello, there,” she said. “Morrissey notified me you were doing all
-right. So I thought I’d wait till you woke up.”
-
-“I’m awake now. Suppose I come over to the house for lunch?”
-
-“Swell. I’ll be waiting.”
-
-“Half an hour, then?”
-
-“Half an hour. I’m glad you called, Bob. I was worried.”
-
-“You needn’t have been.”
-
-“Was your experiment a success?”
-
-“Can’t tell yet. Keep your fingers crossed.”
-
-Ten minutes later Bruno’s fingers were still crossed as he examined
-Gregson. Parsons and Morrissey were present. The physicist kept making
-notes, but Morrissey stood silent and watchful.
-
-There was very little to be seen as yet. Gregson lay in his bed, the
-shaved spots on his head white against the dark hair, his features
-relaxed and peaceful. The typical anxiety expression was gone. Bruno
-opened the man’s eyes and flashed his light into them. Contraction of
-the pupils seemed normal.
-
-“Can you hear me, Gregson?”
-
-Gregson’s lips moved. But he said nothing.
-
-“It’s all right. You’re feeling fine, aren’t you? You’re not worried
-about anything, are you?”
-
-“Headache,” Gregson said. “Bad headache.”
-
-“We’ll give you something for that. Now try to sleep.”
-
-Outside, in the corridor, Bruno tried hard to repress his exultation.
-Parsons blinked at him, scowling.
-
-“Can you tell anything yet?”
-
-Bruno checked himself. “No. It’s too soon. But—”
-
-“The manic-depressive phase is passed,” Morrissey put in. “He seems
-rational. And he hasn’t been for three years.”
-
-“Those damper bars—” Bruno smiled. “Well, we’ll have to wait and see.
-We can’t write up a report yet. He’s certainly oriented. We’ll give him
-a chance to rest. More tests later. I don’t want to jump the gun.”
-
-But with Barbara he let himself be more enthusiastic.
-
-“We’ve done it, Barbara! Found a specific for insanity.”
-
-She leaned across the table to pour coffee.
-
-“I thought there were so many types of psychosis that the treatment
-varied considerably.”
-
-“Well, that’s true, but we’ve never got to the real basis of the trouble
-before. You can cure a cold by rest therapy, force fluids and aspirin,
-but cold vaccine gets directly to the root of the trouble. Some types of
-insanity have been thought incurable, but tetanus was incurable till we
-got a vaccine for it. The empathy surrogate therapy is the lowest common
-denominator. It works on the electronic structure of the mind, and
-unless there’s physical deterioration, as in advanced paresis, our
-treatment should work beautifully.”
-
-“So that’s what you were working on,” Barbara said. “Bob, you don’t know
-how glad I am that it’s successful.”
-
-“Well—we hope. We’re almost sure. But—”
-
-“You can take a vacation now? You’ve been working so hard!”
-
-“A few more weeks, and I’ll be ready. I’ve got to collate my notes. I
-can’t run out on Parsons at this stage. But very soon, I promise.”
-
- * * * * *
-
-He looked up to see her smile. Suddenly he stiffened. Her smile was
-broadening, stretching, the lower lip dropping till all her teeth
-showed. The lower lids of her eyes hung ... stretched....
-
-Her nose lengthened.
-
-Her eyes slowly crawled out of their sockets and lengthened on dreadful
-stalks down her cheeks.
-
-She melted down and out of sight beneath the table.
-
-The table began to sink.
-
-And now everything around him was melting. Under him the chair became
-plastic and then fluid. The floor was a bowl, and the walls were
-dripping down into it, into a shining whirlpool at the center.
-
-He slipped helplessly along that slope till the pool engulfed him, in a
-chaos of thunder and confusion and sickening horror.
-
-The winds bellowed.... The empty drop closed around him.... He
-fell in darkness....
-
-This time, when he woke, he wasn’t sure. The panic had not left him. He
-learned, later, that he had been semi-delirious for eight days, and only
-Morrissey’s unceasing attention had kept him reasonably quiet. Then
-there were weeks of convalescence, and a vacation, and it seemed a long
-time before he came back from Florida, tanned and healthy, to resume his
-duties.
-
-Even then, though, there was the fear.
-
-When he drove toward the blocky buildings of the sanitarium he felt a
-touch of it brush him. He reached for Barbara’s hand, and felt some
-comfort in the assurance of her nearness. She had been helpful, too,
-though she had not understood.
-
-Every day after that, when he left her, there was a fleeting
-apprehension lest he never see her again. To forget the uncertainty of
-his footing, the ground that was no longer absolutely solid, he plunged
-into the hospital’s routine. And gradually, after more weeks, the terror
-began to leave him.
-
-Gregson had been cured. He was still under precautionary observation,
-but all traces of his psychosis seemed to have vanished. There were
-still minor neuroses, the natural result of the past six years of
-abnormal restraint, but they were disappearing under proper therapy. The
-empathy surrogate treatment was successful. Yet, for a while, Bruno
-refused to attempt more experiments.
-
-Parsons was displeased. He was anxious to chart a graph on the process,
-and one trial did not provide enough evidence. Bruno kept putting the
-physicist off with promises. It eventually ended in a minor spat which
-Morrissey halted by pointing out that Dr. Robert Bruno was, technically,
-his own patient, and was not yet ready for further research on the
-dangerous subject.
-
-Parsons, furious, went off. Bruno followed Morrissey into the latter’s
-office and sat down in one of the more comfortable chairs. It was
-mid-afternoon, and beyond the windows the drowsy hum of summer made a
-peaceful counterpoint to the conversation.
-
-“Cigarette, Ken?”
-
-“Thanks.... Look, Bob.” The two men had drawn closer together in the
-last weeks. Morrissey no longer addressed his Chief of Staff with the
-former “Doctor.” “I’ve been collating the facts of your case, and I
-think I’ve got at the root of the trouble. Do you want to hear my
-diagnosis?”
-
-“Candidly, I don’t,” Bruno said, closing his eyes and inhaling smoke.
-“I’d prefer to forget it. But I know I can’t. That would be psychically
-ruinous.”
-
-“You had a cyclic self-containing dream—I suppose you could call it
-that. You dreamed you were dreaming you were dreaming. You know what
-your trouble is?”
-
-“Well?”
-
-“You’re not sure you’re awake now.”
-
-“Oh, I’m sure enough,” Bruno said. “Most of the time.”
-
-“You’ve got to be sure all the time. Or else make yourself believe that
-it doesn’t matter whether you’re dreaming or waking.”
-
-“Doesn’t matter! Ken! To know that everything may melt away under my
-feet at any time, and to think that doesn’t matter! That’s impossible!”
-
-“Then you’ve got to be sure you’re awake. Those hallucinations you had
-are over. Weeks have passed.”
-
-“Hallucinatory time is elastic and subjective.”
-
-“It’s a defense mechanism—you know that, I suppose?”
-
-“Defense against what?”
-
-Morrissey moistened his lips. “Remember, I’m the psychiatrist and you’re
-the patient. You were psychoanalyzed when you studied psychiatry, but
-you didn’t get all the devils out of your subconscious. Hang it, Bob,
-you know very well that most psychiatrists take up the work because
-they’re attracted to it for pathological reasons—neuroses of their own.
-Why did you always insist that you were so utterly sure of everything?”
-
-“I always made sure.”
-
-“Compensation. To allow for a basic unsureness and insecurity in your
-own makeup. Consciously you were sure the empathy surrogate treatment
-would work, but your unconscious mind wasn’t so certain. You never let
-yourself know that, though. But it came out under stress—the therapy
-itself.”
-
-“Go on,” Bruno said slowly.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Morrissey tapped the papers on his desk.
-
-“I know my diagnosis is pretty accurate, but you can decide that for
-yourself. You can tell, perhaps, better than I can. The frontiers of the
-mind are _terra incognita_. Your simile of a uranium pile was better
-than you’d realized. When critical mass is approached, there’s danger.
-And the damper bars in your own mind—what did Parsons’ machine do to
-them?”
-
-“I am quite sane,” Bruno said. “I think.”
-
-“Sure you are, now. You’re getting over that explosion. You’d been
-building up an anxiety neurosis, and the therapy made it blow off. Just
-how, I don’t understand. The electronic patterns of the mind aren’t in
-my field. All I know is that the experiment with Gregson removed the
-safety blocks from your mind, and you lost control for a while. Thus the
-hallucinations, which simply followed the path of least resistance.
-Point One: You’re afraid of insecurity and unsureness, and you always
-have been. Thus your dream follows a familiarly symbolic pattern. At any
-time the sureness of waking may vanish. Point Two: As long as you think
-you’re dreaming, you’re dodging responsibility!”
-
-“Good Lord, Ken!” Bruno said. “I just want to be sure I’m awake!”
-
-“And there’s absolutely no way you can be sure of that,” Morrissey said.
-“The conviction must come from your own mind and be subjective. No
-objective proof is possible. Otherwise, if you fail to convince
-yourself, the anxiety neurosis will grow back into a psychosis, and—”
-He shrugged.
-
-“It sounds logical,” Bruno said. “I’m beginning to see it pretty
-clearly. I think, perhaps, this clarification is what I needed.”
-
-“Do you think you’re dreaming now?”
-
-“Not at the moment—certainly.”
-
-“Swell,” Morrissey said. “Because the conglobulation of the psych
-between the forever and upstriding kaleeno bystixing forinder saan—”
-
-Bruno jumped up. “Ken!” he said, dry-throated. “Stop it!”
-
-“Fylixar catween baleeza—”
-
-“_Stop it!_”
-
-“BYZINDERKONA REPSTILLING AND ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS NEVER KNOWING NEVER
-KNOWING NEVER KNOWING—”
-
-The words came out in great whirling shining globes. They raced past
-Bruno’s head with a screaming hiss. They bombarded him. They carried him
-back into a thundering, windy abyss of blackness and terror.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Morrissey stepped back from the bed and asked:
-
-Dr. Robert Bruno managed to nod.
-
-“Good,” Morrissey said. “You were out for about three hours. But
-everything’s going nicely. You’ll be up and around pretty soon. There’s
-plenty to be done. Barbara wants to see you—and Parsons.”
-
-“Ken,” Bruno said, “wait a minute. Am I awake now? I mean, really
-awake?”
-
-Morrissey stared and grinned.
-
-“Sure,” he said. “I can guarantee that.”
-
-But Bruno did not answer. His gaze moved to the windows, to the solidity
-of the walls and ceiling, to the reality of his own hands and arms.
-
-_Never knowing?_
-
-He looked at Morrissey, waiting for Morrissey to vanish, and the black
-pit to open again beneath him.
-
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-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
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-<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Dream&#039;s end</p>
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-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: May 25, 2022 [eBook #68170]</p>
-<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p>
- <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan, Alex White &amp; the online Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at https://www.pgdpcanada.net</p>
-<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DREAM&#039;S END ***</div>
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-
-<h1>DREAM&#8217;S END</h1>
-
-<h2>By HENRY KUTTNER</h2>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Startling Stories, July 1947.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-<p><i>Risking his own life force to cure a<br />
-patient&#8217;s psychosis, Dr. Robert Bruno learns<br />
-of the true individualism of human minds!</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>The sanitarium was never quiet. Even when night brought comparative
-stillness, there was an anticipatory tension in the air&#8212;for cyclic
-mental disorders are as inevitable, though not as regular, as the swing
-of a merry-go-round.</p>
-
-<p>Earlier that evening Gregson, in Ward 13, had moved into the downswing
-of his manic-depressive curve, and there had been trouble. Before the
-orderlies could buckle him into a restraining jacket, he had managed to
-break the arm of a &#8220;frozen&#8221; catatonic patient, who had made no sound
-even as the bone snapped.</p>
-
-<p>Under apomorphine, Gregson subsided. After a few days he would be at the
-bottom of his psychic curve, dumb, motionless, and disinterested.
-Nothing would be able to rouse him then, for a while.</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Robert Bruno, Chief of Staff, waited till the nurse had gone out
-with the no longer sterile hypodermic. Then he nodded at the orderly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;All right. Prepare the patient. I want him in Surgery Three in half an
-hour.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>He went out into the corridor, a tall, quiet man with cool blue eyes and
-firm lips. Dr. Kenneth Morrissey was waiting for him. The younger man
-looked troubled.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Surgery, Doctor?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Come on,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;We&#8217;ve got to get ready. How&#8217;s Wheeler?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Simple fracture of the radius, I think. I&#8217;m having plates made.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Turn him over to one of the other doctors,&#8221; Bruno suggested. &#8220;I need
-your help.&#8221; He used his key on the locked door. &#8220;Gregson&#8217;s in good shape
-for the experiment.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey didn&#8217;t answer. Bruno laughed a little.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s bothering you, Ken?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s the word experiment,&#8221; Morrissey said.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Pentothal narcosynthesis was an experiment when they first tried it. So
-is this&#8212;empathy surrogate. If there&#8217;s a risk, I&#8217;ll be taking it, not
-Gregson.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You can&#8217;t be sure.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>They stepped into the elevator.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I <i>am</i> sure,&#8221; Bruno said, with odd emphasis. &#8220;That&#8217;s been my rule all
-my life. I make sure. I&#8217;ve got to <i>be</i> sure before I undertake anything
-new. This experiment can&#8217;t possibly fail. I don&#8217;t run risks with
-patients.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Well&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Come in here.&#8221; Bruno led the way from the elevator to an examination
-room. &#8220;I want a final check-up. Try my blood-pressure.&#8221; He stripped off
-his white coat and deftly wound the pneumatic rubber around his arm.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ve explained the whole situation to Gregson&#8217;s wife.&#8221; Bruno went on as
-Morrissey squeezed the bulb. &#8220;She&#8217;s signed the authorization papers. She
-knows it&#8217;s the only chance to cure Gregson. After all, Ken, the man&#8217;s
-been insane for seven years. Cerebral deterioration&#8217;s beginning to set
-in.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Cellular, you mean? Um-m. I&#8217;m not worried about that. Blood-pressure
-okay. Heart&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey picked up a stethoscope. After a while he nodded.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;A physician hasn&#8217;t any right to be afraid of the dark,&#8221; Bruno said.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;A physician isn&#8217;t charting unmapped territory,&#8221; Morrissey said
-abruptly. &#8220;You can dissect a cadaver, but you can&#8217;t do that to the
-psyche. As a psychiatrist you should be the first to admit that we don&#8217;t
-know all there is to know about the mind. Would you take a transfusion
-from a meningitis patient?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Bruno chuckled. &#8220;Witchcraft, Ken&#8212;pure witchcraft! The germ theory of
-psychosis! Afraid I&#8217;ll catch Gregson&#8217;s insanity? I hate to disillusion
-you, but episodic disorders aren&#8217;t contagious.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Just because you can&#8217;t see a bug doesn&#8217;t mean it isn&#8217;t there,&#8221;
-Morrissey growled. &#8220;What about a filterable virus? A few years ago
-nobody could conceive of liquid life.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Next you&#8217;ll be going back to Elizabethan times and talking about spleen
-and humors.&#8221; Bruno resumed his shirt and coat. He sobered. &#8220;In a way,
-though, this <i>is</i> a transfusion. The only type of transfusion possible.
-I&#8217;ll admit no one knows all there is to know about psychoses. Nobody
-knows what makes a man think, either. But that&#8217;s where physics is
-beginning to meet medicine. Witchcraft and medicine isolated digitalin
-when they met. And scientists are beginning to know the nature of
-thought&#8212;an electronic pattern of energy.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Empirical!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Compare not the brain, but the mind itself, to a uranium pile,&#8221; Bruno
-said. &#8220;The potentialities for atomic explosion are in the mind because
-you can&#8217;t make a high-specialized colloid for thinking without
-approaching the danger level. It&#8217;s the price humans pay for being <i>homo
-sapiens</i>. In a uranium pile you&#8217;ve got boron-steel bars as dampers, to
-absorb the neutrons before they can get out of control. In the mind,
-those dampers are purely psychic, naturally&#8212;but they&#8217;re what keep a man
-sane.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You can prove anything by symbolism,&#8221; Morrissey said sourly. &#8220;And you
-can&#8217;t stick bars of boron-steel in Gregson&#8217;s skull.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Yes, I can,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;In effect.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;But those dampers are&#8212;<i>ideas</i>! Thoughts! You can&#8217;t&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;What is a thought?&#8221; Bruno asked.</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey grimaced and followed the Chief of Staff out.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You can chart a thought on the encephalograph&#8212;&#8221; he said stubbornly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Because it&#8217;s a radiation. What causes that radiation? Energy emitted by
-certain electronic patterns. What causes electronic patterns? The basic
-physical structure of matter. What causes uranium to throw off neutrons
-under special conditions? Same answer. If an uranium pile starts to get
-out of control, you can damp it, if you move fast, with boron or
-cadmium.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;If you move fast. Why use Gregson? He&#8217;s been insane for years.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;If he&#8217;d been insane for only a week, we couldn&#8217;t prove it was the
-empathy surrogate that cured him. You&#8217;re just arguing to dodge the
-responsibility. If you don&#8217;t want to help me, I&#8217;ll get somebody else.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It would take weeks to train another man,&#8221; Morrissey said. &#8220;No, I&#8217;ll
-operate. Only&#8212;have you thought of the possible effect on your own
-mind?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Certainly,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;Why the devil do you suppose I&#8217;ve been running
-exhaustive psychological tests on myself? I&#8217;m completely oriented, I&#8217;m
-so normal that my mind must be full of boron dampers.&#8221; He paused at the
-door of his office. &#8220;Barbara&#8217;s here. I&#8217;ll meet you in Surgery.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey&#8217;s shoulders slumped. Bruno smiled slightly and opened the
-door. His wife was sitting on a leather couch, idly turning the pages of
-a psychiatric review.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Studying?&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;Want a job as a nurse?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Hello, darling,&#8221; she said, tossing the magazine aside.</p>
-
-<p>She came toward him quickly. She was small and dark and, Bruno thought
-academically, extremely pretty. Then his thoughts stopped being academic
-as he kissed her.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;What&#8217;s up?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re doing that operation tonight, aren&#8217;t you? I wanted to wish you
-luck.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;How&#8217;d you know?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Bob,&#8221; she said, &#8220;we&#8217;ve been married long enough so I can read your mind
-a little. I don&#8217;t know what the operation is, but I know it&#8217;s important.
-So&#8212;for luck!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>She kissed him again. Then, with a smile and a nod, she slipped out and
-was gone. Dr. Robert Bruno sighed, not unhappily, and sat behind his
-desk. He used the annunciator to check the sanitarium&#8217;s routine, made
-certain everything was running smoothly, and clicked his tongue with
-satisfaction.</p>
-
-<p>Now&#8212;the experiment....</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Surgery Three had some new equipment for the experiment. Bruno&#8217;s
-collaborator, Andrew Parsons, the atomic physicist, was there, small and
-untidy, with a scowling, wrinkled face that looked incongruous under the
-surgeon&#8217;s cap. There was to be no real surgery; trepanning wasn&#8217;t
-necessary, but aseptic precautions were taken as a matter of course.</p>
-
-<p>The anesthetist and two other nurses stood ready, and Morrissey, in his
-white gown, seemed to have forgotten his worry and had settled down to
-his usual quiet competence. Gregson was on one of the tables, already
-prepped and unconscious. Intravenous anesthesia would presently
-supplement the apomorphine in his system, as it would also be
-administered to Bruno himself.</p>
-
-<p>Ferguson and Dale, two other doctors, were present. At worst quick
-cerebral surgery might be necessary, if anything went badly amiss. But
-nothing could, Bruno thought. Nothing could.</p>
-
-<p>He glanced at the sleek, shining machines, with their attachments and
-registering dials. Not medical equipment, of course. They were in
-Parsons&#8217; line; he had planned and built them. But the idea had been
-Bruno&#8217;s to begin with, and Bruno&#8217;s psychiatric knowledge had
-complemented Parsons&#8217; technology. Two branches of science had met, and
-the result would be&#8212;a specific for insanity.</p>
-
-<p>Two spots on Bruno&#8217;s head had been shaved clean. Parsons carefully
-affixed electrodes, which were already in place on Gregson&#8217;s skull.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Remember,&#8221; Parsons said, &#8220;you should be as relaxed as possible.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You took no sedative, Doctor,&#8221; Morrissey said.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I don&#8217;t need one. The anesthetic will be enough.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>The nurses moved with silent competence about the table. The emergency
-oxygen apparatus was tested. The adrenalin was checked; the sterilizer
-steamed on its table. Bruno emptied his mind and relaxed as a nurse
-swabbed his arm with alcohol.</p>
-
-<p>Superimposure of the electronic mental matrix of sanity ... psychic
-rapport ... the pattern of his sanity-dampers would be fixed
-unalterably in the twisted, warped mind of the manic-depressive.</p>
-
-<p>He felt the sting of the needle. Automatically he began counting. One.
-Two. Three....</p>
-
-<p>He opened his eyes. The face of Morrissey, intent and abstracted, hung
-over him. Beyond Morrissey was the bright ceiling fluorescent, glaring
-down with a brilliance that made Bruno blink. His arm stung slightly but
-otherwise there were no after effects.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Can you hear me, Doctor?&#8221; Morrissey said.</p>
-
-<p>Bruno nodded. &#8220;Yes. I&#8217;m awake now.&#8221; His tongue was a little thick. That
-was natural. &#8220;Gregson?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>But Morrissey&#8217;s face was growing smaller. No, it was receding. The
-ceiling light shrank. <i>He was falling</i>&#8212;</p>
-
-<p>He shot down with blinding rapidity. White walls rushed up past him.
-Morrissey&#8217;s face receded to a shining dot far above. It grew darker as
-he fell. Winds screamed, and there was a slow, gradually increasing
-thundering like an echo resounding from the floor of this monstrous
-abyss.</p>
-
-<p>Down and down, faster and faster, with the white walls fading to gray
-and to black, till he was blind, till he was deafened with that roaring
-echo.</p>
-
-<p>Visibility returned. Everything was out of focus. He blinked, swallowed,
-and made out the rectangular shape of a bedside screen. There was
-something else, white and irregular.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Are you awake, Doctor?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Hello, Harwood,&#8221; Bruno said to the nurse. &#8220;How long have I been out?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;About two hours. I&#8217;ll call Dr. Morrissey.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>She stepped out of the room. Bruno flexed his muscles experimentally. He
-felt all right. Not even a headache. His vision was normal now. He
-instinctively reached for his wrist and began counting the pulse.
-Through the window he could see the slow motion of a branch, the leaves
-fluttering in a gentle wind. Footsteps sounded.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Congratulations,&#8221; Morrissey said, coming to the bed. &#8220;Gregson&#8217;s in
-shock, but he&#8217;s already beginning to come out of it. No prognosis yet,
-but I&#8217;ll bet a cookie you&#8217;ve done it.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Bruno let out his breath in a long sigh. &#8220;You think so?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey laughed. &#8220;Don&#8217;t tell me you weren&#8217;t sure!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m always sure,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;Just the same, confirmation&#8217;s always
-pleasant. I&#8217;m thirsty as the devil. Get me some ice, Ken, will you?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;All right.&#8221; Morrissey leaned out of the door and called the nurse. Then
-he came back and lowered the Venetian blind. &#8220;Sun in your eyes. That
-better? How do you feel, or need I ask?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Quite normal. No ill effects at all. Say, you&#8217;d better notify Barbara
-I&#8217;m alive.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I already have. She&#8217;s coming over. Meanwhile, Parsons is outside. Want
-to see him?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Sure.&#8221;</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The physicist must have been near the door, for he appeared almost
-instantly.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll have to depend on you now,&#8221; he said. &#8220;Psychiatric examinations are
-out of my line, but Dr. Morrissey tells me we&#8217;ve apparently succeeded.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;We can&#8217;t be sure yet,&#8221; Bruno said cautiously, reaching for cracked ice.
-&#8220;I&#8217;m keeping my fingers crossed.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;How do you feel?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;If there&#8217;s a healthier specimen in this hospital than Dr. Bruno,&#8221;
-Morrissey said, &#8220;I&#8217;ve yet to hear of it. I&#8217;ll be back. I&#8217;ve got to check
-a patient.&#8221; He went out.</p>
-
-<p>Bruno lay back on his pillow.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I&#8217;ll be up and around tomorrow,&#8221; he said, &#8220;and I&#8217;ll want to make some
-tests on Gregson then. Meanwhile, I&#8217;ll relax&#8212;for a change. One good
-thing about this place; the routine&#8217;s so perfect that you can unhitch
-yourself completely and let yourself rest, if you want to. A dependable
-staff.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>The Venetian blind clattered in the wind. Parsons grunted and went
-toward it, taking hold of the cord.</p>
-
-<p>He raised the blind and stood there, his back to Bruno. But it was dark
-outside the window.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;The sun was in my eyes,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;Wait a minute! That was only a
-little while ago. Parsons, something&#8217;s wrong!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;What?&#8221; Parsons asked, without turning.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Morrissey said I was unconscious for only two hours. And I took
-anesthesia at half-past nine. At night! But the sun was shining in that
-window when I woke up, a few minutes ago!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s night now,&#8221; Parsons said.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It can&#8217;t be. Get Morrissey. I want to&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>But Parsons suddenly leaned forward and opened the window. Then he
-jumped out and vanished.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;<i>Morrissey!</i>&#8221; Bruno shouted.</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey came in. He didn&#8217;t look at Bruno. He walked quickly across the
-room and jumped out of the window into the darkness.</p>
-
-<p>Ferguson and Dale entered, still in their operating gowns. They followed
-Morrissey through the window.</p>
-
-<p>Bruno hoisted himself up. Three nurses came through the door. An intern
-and an orderly followed. Then others.</p>
-
-<p>In nightmare procession the staff filed into Bruno&#8217;s room. In deadly
-silence they walked to the window and jumped out.</p>
-
-<p>The blankets slipped down from Bruno&#8217;s body. He saw them sail slowly
-toward the window&#8212;</p>
-
-<p>The bed was tilting! No&#8212;the room itself was turning, revolving, till
-Bruno clung frantically to the head-board while gravity dragged him
-inexorably toward a window that now gaped directly below him.</p>
-
-<p>The bed fell. It spilled Bruno out. He saw the oblong of the window
-opening like a mouth to swallow him. He plunged through into utter
-blackness, into an echoing, roaring hell of night and thunder....</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Oh, good heavens!&#8221; Bruno moaned. &#8220;What a dream! Morrissey, get me a
-sedative!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>The psychiatrist laughed. &#8220;You&#8217;ve had a dream-within-a-dream before,
-haven&#8217;t you, Doctor? It sounds unnerving, but now you&#8217;ve told me all
-about it. The catharsis is better than a barbiturate.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I suppose so.&#8221; Bruno lay back in the bed.</p>
-
-<p>This wasn&#8217;t the room he had dreamed about. It was much larger, and
-outside the windows was normal darkness. Morrissey had said that the
-anesthetic had lasted for several hours.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Anyway, I&#8217;m jittery,&#8221; Bruno said.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I didn&#8217;t know you had any nerves.... Here, Harwood.&#8221; Morrissey
-turned to the nurse and scribbled down a few symbols on a pad. &#8220;There.
-We&#8217;ll get your sedative. Don&#8217;t you want to know about Gregson?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I&#8217;d forgotten about him completely,&#8221; Bruno acknowledged. &#8220;Can you tell
-anything definite yet?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;We caught him on the downcurve of the depressive cycle, remember? Well,
-he isn&#8217;t talking yet, but there&#8217;s a touch of euphoria. The elation will
-wear off. One thing, you&#8217;ve broken the cycle. His mind isn&#8217;t adjusted
-yet to those&#8212;damper bars you put in &#8217;em, but off-hand, I&#8217;d say it looks
-pretty good.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;What does Parsons think?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;He&#8217;s immersed in calculations. Said he&#8217;d be around to see you as soon
-as you woke up. Here&#8217;s that sedative.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Bruno accepted the capsules from the nurse and washed them down with
-water.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Thanks. I&#8217;d rather rest a bit. I must have unconsciously piled up quite
-a lot of tension.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;So I gather,&#8221; Morrissey said drily. &#8220;Well, here&#8217;s the bell-cord.
-Anything else?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Just rest.&#8221; Bruno hesitated. &#8220;Oh&#8212;one thing.&#8221; He extended his arm.
-&#8220;Pinch it.&#8221;</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Morrissey stared and chuckled.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Still not sure you&#8217;re awake? I can assure you you are, Doctor. I&#8217;m not
-going to jump out of the window. And it&#8217;s still night, you&#8217;ll notice.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>When Bruno didn&#8217;t move, Morrissey pinched up a fold of the other&#8217;s
-forearm between thumb and finger.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Ouch!&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;Thanks.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Any time,&#8221; Morrissey said cheerfully. &#8220;Get some rest now. I&#8217;ll be
-back.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>He went out with the nurse. Bruno blew out his breath and let his gaze
-wander around the room. Everything looked perfectly solid and normal. No
-black, thundering abyss lurked under the floor. An unpleasant dream!</p>
-
-<p>He reached for pad and pencil and made careful notes on the curious
-double-delusion before he let himself relax. Then he felt the sedative
-creeping slowly along his nerves, a warm, pleasant sensation that he was
-glad to encourage. He didn&#8217;t want to think. Later would be time enough.
-The empathy surrogate experiment, Gregson, the physicist Parsons,
-Barbara&#8212;later!</p>
-
-<p>He drowsed. It seemed only a moment before he opened his eyes to see
-sunlight beyond the window. Brief panic touched him, then he looked at
-his wrist-watch and was reassured to see that it said eleven o&#8217;clock. He
-could hear the muffled sounds of the ordinary hospital routine going on
-outside door and window. Presently, feeling refreshed, he got up and
-dressed.</p>
-
-<p>In Nurse Harwood&#8217;s office he telephoned Morrissey, exchanged brief
-greetings, and then went to his own office to shower and shave.</p>
-
-<p>He telephoned Barbara.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Hello, there,&#8221; she said. &#8220;Morrissey notified me you were doing all
-right. So I thought I&#8217;d wait till you woke up.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I&#8217;m awake now. Suppose I come over to the house for lunch?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Swell. I&#8217;ll be waiting.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Half an hour, then?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Half an hour. I&#8217;m glad you called, Bob. I was worried.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You needn&#8217;t have been.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Was your experiment a success?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Can&#8217;t tell yet. Keep your fingers crossed.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Ten minutes later Bruno&#8217;s fingers were still crossed as he examined
-Gregson. Parsons and Morrissey were present. The physicist kept making
-notes, but Morrissey stood silent and watchful.</p>
-
-<p>There was very little to be seen as yet. Gregson lay in his bed, the
-shaved spots on his head white against the dark hair, his features
-relaxed and peaceful. The typical anxiety expression was gone. Bruno
-opened the man&#8217;s eyes and flashed his light into them. Contraction of
-the pupils seemed normal.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Can you hear me, Gregson?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Gregson&#8217;s lips moved. But he said nothing.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s all right. You&#8217;re feeling fine, aren&#8217;t you? You&#8217;re not worried
-about anything, are you?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Headache,&#8221; Gregson said. &#8220;Bad headache.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ll give you something for that. Now try to sleep.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Outside, in the corridor, Bruno tried hard to repress his exultation.
-Parsons blinked at him, scowling.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Can you tell anything yet?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Bruno checked himself. &#8220;No. It&#8217;s too soon. But&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;The manic-depressive phase is passed,&#8221; Morrissey put in. &#8220;He seems
-rational. And he hasn&#8217;t been for three years.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Those damper bars&#8212;&#8221; Bruno smiled. &#8220;Well, we&#8217;ll have to wait and see.
-We can&#8217;t write up a report yet. He&#8217;s certainly oriented. We&#8217;ll give him
-a chance to rest. More tests later. I don&#8217;t want to jump the gun.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>But with Barbara he let himself be more enthusiastic.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;We&#8217;ve done it, Barbara! Found a specific for insanity.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>She leaned across the table to pour coffee.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I thought there were so many types of psychosis that the treatment
-varied considerably.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Well, that&#8217;s true, but we&#8217;ve never got to the real basis of the trouble
-before. You can cure a cold by rest therapy, force fluids and aspirin,
-but cold vaccine gets directly to the root of the trouble. Some types of
-insanity have been thought incurable, but tetanus was incurable till we
-got a vaccine for it. The empathy surrogate therapy is the lowest common
-denominator. It works on the electronic structure of the mind, and
-unless there&#8217;s physical deterioration, as in advanced paresis, our
-treatment should work beautifully.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;So that&#8217;s what you were working on,&#8221; Barbara said. &#8220;Bob, you don&#8217;t know
-how glad I am that it&#8217;s successful.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Well&#8212;we hope. We&#8217;re almost sure. But&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You can take a vacation now? You&#8217;ve been working so hard!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;A few more weeks, and I&#8217;ll be ready. I&#8217;ve got to collate my notes. I
-can&#8217;t run out on Parsons at this stage. But very soon, I promise.&#8221;</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He looked up to see her smile. Suddenly he stiffened. Her smile was
-broadening, stretching, the lower lip dropping till all her teeth
-showed. The lower lids of her eyes hung ... stretched....</p>
-
-<p>Her nose lengthened.</p>
-
-<p>Her eyes slowly crawled out of their sockets and lengthened on dreadful
-stalks down her cheeks.</p>
-
-<p>She melted down and out of sight beneath the table.</p>
-
-<p>The table began to sink.</p>
-
-<p>And now everything around him was melting. Under him the chair became
-plastic and then fluid. The floor was a bowl, and the walls were
-dripping down into it, into a shining whirlpool at the center.</p>
-
-<p>He slipped helplessly along that slope till the pool engulfed him, in a
-chaos of thunder and confusion and sickening horror.</p>
-
-<p>The winds bellowed.... The empty drop closed around him.... He
-fell in darkness....</p>
-
-<p>This time, when he woke, he wasn&#8217;t sure. The panic had not left him. He
-learned, later, that he had been semi-delirious for eight days, and only
-Morrissey&#8217;s unceasing attention had kept him reasonably quiet. Then
-there were weeks of convalescence, and a vacation, and it seemed a long
-time before he came back from Florida, tanned and healthy, to resume his
-duties.</p>
-
-<p>Even then, though, there was the fear.</p>
-
-<p>When he drove toward the blocky buildings of the sanitarium he felt a
-touch of it brush him. He reached for Barbara&#8217;s hand, and felt some
-comfort in the assurance of her nearness. She had been helpful, too,
-though she had not understood.</p>
-
-<p>Every day after that, when he left her, there was a fleeting
-apprehension lest he never see her again. To forget the uncertainty of
-his footing, the ground that was no longer absolutely solid, he plunged
-into the hospital&#8217;s routine. And gradually, after more weeks, the terror
-began to leave him.</p>
-
-<p>Gregson had been cured. He was still under precautionary observation,
-but all traces of his psychosis seemed to have vanished. There were
-still minor neuroses, the natural result of the past six years of
-abnormal restraint, but they were disappearing under proper therapy. The
-empathy surrogate treatment was successful. Yet, for a while, Bruno
-refused to attempt more experiments.</p>
-
-<p>Parsons was displeased. He was anxious to chart a graph on the process,
-and one trial did not provide enough evidence. Bruno kept putting the
-physicist off with promises. It eventually ended in a minor spat which
-Morrissey halted by pointing out that Dr. Robert Bruno was, technically,
-his own patient, and was not yet ready for further research on the
-dangerous subject.</p>
-
-<p>Parsons, furious, went off. Bruno followed Morrissey into the latter&#8217;s
-office and sat down in one of the more comfortable chairs. It was
-mid-afternoon, and beyond the windows the drowsy hum of summer made a
-peaceful counterpoint to the conversation.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Cigarette, Ken?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Thanks.... Look, Bob.&#8221; The two men had drawn closer together in the
-last weeks. Morrissey no longer addressed his Chief of Staff with the
-former &#8220;Doctor.&#8221; &#8220;I&#8217;ve been collating the facts of your case, and I
-think I&#8217;ve got at the root of the trouble. Do you want to hear my
-diagnosis?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Candidly, I don&#8217;t,&#8221; Bruno said, closing his eyes and inhaling smoke.
-&#8220;I&#8217;d prefer to forget it. But I know I can&#8217;t. That would be psychically
-ruinous.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You had a cyclic self-containing dream&#8212;I suppose you could call it
-that. You dreamed you were dreaming you were dreaming. You know what
-your trouble is?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Well?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You&#8217;re not sure you&#8217;re awake now.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Oh, I&#8217;m sure enough,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;Most of the time.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;You&#8217;ve got to be sure all the time. Or else make yourself believe that
-it doesn&#8217;t matter whether you&#8217;re dreaming or waking.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Doesn&#8217;t matter! Ken! To know that everything may melt away under my
-feet at any time, and to think that doesn&#8217;t matter! That&#8217;s impossible!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Then you&#8217;ve got to be sure you&#8217;re awake. Those hallucinations you had
-are over. Weeks have passed.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Hallucinatory time is elastic and subjective.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It&#8217;s a defense mechanism&#8212;you know that, I suppose?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Defense against what?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey moistened his lips. &#8220;Remember, I&#8217;m the psychiatrist and you&#8217;re
-the patient. You were psychoanalyzed when you studied psychiatry, but
-you didn&#8217;t get all the devils out of your subconscious. Hang it, Bob,
-you know very well that most psychiatrists take up the work because
-they&#8217;re attracted to it for pathological reasons&#8212;neuroses of their own.
-Why did you always insist that you were so utterly sure of everything?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I always made sure.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Compensation. To allow for a basic unsureness and insecurity in your
-own makeup. Consciously you were sure the empathy surrogate treatment
-would work, but your unconscious mind wasn&#8217;t so certain. You never let
-yourself know that, though. But it came out under stress&#8212;the therapy
-itself.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Go on,&#8221; Bruno said slowly.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Morrissey tapped the papers on his desk.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I know my diagnosis is pretty accurate, but you can decide that for
-yourself. You can tell, perhaps, better than I can. The frontiers of the
-mind are <i>terra incognita</i>. Your simile of a uranium pile was better
-than you&#8217;d realized. When critical mass is approached, there&#8217;s danger.
-And the damper bars in your own mind&#8212;what did Parsons&#8217; machine do to
-them?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;I am quite sane,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;I think.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Sure you are, now. You&#8217;re getting over that explosion. You&#8217;d been
-building up an anxiety neurosis, and the therapy made it blow off. Just
-how, I don&#8217;t understand. The electronic patterns of the mind aren&#8217;t in
-my field. All I know is that the experiment with Gregson removed the
-safety blocks from your mind, and you lost control for a while. Thus the
-hallucinations, which simply followed the path of least resistance.
-Point One: You&#8217;re afraid of insecurity and unsureness, and you always
-have been. Thus your dream follows a familiarly symbolic pattern. At any
-time the sureness of waking may vanish. Point Two: As long as you think
-you&#8217;re dreaming, you&#8217;re dodging responsibility!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Good Lord, Ken!&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;I just want to be sure I&#8217;m awake!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;And there&#8217;s absolutely no way you can be sure of that,&#8221; Morrissey said.
-&#8220;The conviction must come from your own mind and be subjective. No
-objective proof is possible. Otherwise, if you fail to convince
-yourself, the anxiety neurosis will grow back into a psychosis, and&#8212;&#8221;
-He shrugged.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;It sounds logical,&#8221; Bruno said. &#8220;I&#8217;m beginning to see it pretty
-clearly. I think, perhaps, this clarification is what I needed.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Do you think you&#8217;re dreaming now?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Not at the moment&#8212;certainly.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Swell,&#8221; Morrissey said. &#8220;Because the conglobulation of the psych
-between the forever and upstriding kaleeno bystixing forinder saan&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Bruno jumped up. &#8220;Ken!&#8221; he said, dry-throated. &#8220;Stop it!&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Fylixar catween baleeza&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;<i>Stop it!</i>&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;BYZINDERKONA REPSTILLING AND ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS NEVER KNOWING NEVER
-KNOWING NEVER KNOWING&#8212;&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>The words came out in great whirling shining globes. They raced past
-Bruno&#8217;s head with a screaming hiss. They bombarded him. They carried him
-back into a thundering, windy abyss of blackness and terror.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Morrissey stepped back from the bed and asked:</p>
-
-<p>Dr. Robert Bruno managed to nod.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Good,&#8221; Morrissey said. &#8220;You were out for about three hours. But
-everything&#8217;s going nicely. You&#8217;ll be up and around pretty soon. There&#8217;s
-plenty to be done. Barbara wants to see you&#8212;and Parsons.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Ken,&#8221; Bruno said, &#8220;wait a minute. Am I awake now? I mean, really
-awake?&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>Morrissey stared and grinned.</p>
-
-<p>&#8220;Sure,&#8221; he said. &#8220;I can guarantee that.&#8221;</p>
-
-<p>But Bruno did not answer. His gaze moved to the windows, to the solidity
-of the walls and ceiling, to the reality of his own hands and arms.</p>
-
-<p><i>Never knowing?</i></p>
-
-<p>He looked at Morrissey, waiting for Morrissey to vanish, and the black
-pit to open again beneath him.</p>
-
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