Orpheus and the Pearl & Nevermore (3 page)

Catherine still did not quite believe what
she was hearing, but at least it had been presented to her in terms
that skirted close to the logical and possible. “But, why would you
keep this secret? If this is what happened, then this is the
greatest medical breakthrough in all of human history.”

His smile vanished as he
shook his head again, slower and more sadly than ever, and she felt
a lump in her own throat, seeing his beautiful eyes glistening with
tears. “Oh, I certainly thought so, at first. Even before I had
properly rejoiced with Victoria myself, I was thinking of when I
could get to town to send the telegram, informing the world of
my
Great Deed
.
The Nobel Prize? There would be no prize commensurate to the very
conquest of death itself!” His frown was more of a sneer now and he
nearly spat the words out. “Fool! Proud, vain fool! There is no
prize for being the maddest fool that ever lived. So intent on how
I
could
cheat
death, I never stopped to think of whether I
should
, of whether such a thing
would be good, or damnable.
No, doctor, I
soon saw that one does not advertise, let alone brag, when one
violates the most basic – I dare say, the most sacred – laws of
nature. For beginning soon after she awakened, Victoria has been
overwhelmed by an all-consuming rage which I do not understand,
which she will not explain and cannot control, and which Romwald
and I struggle to contain, lest she hurt herself or someone else. I
have conquered her body’s death, only to make all of us prisoners
to her mind’s torment. This is why I have sought out your
help.”

“
Dr.
Wallston, I don’t know what to say to such an account.” But
Catherine’s practicality again asserted itself, despite the
unbelievability of the doctor’s story. For ultimately, it made
little difference what Mrs. Wallston’s exceptional, even unique
physical journey had been. Today she was a patient whose pain
Catherine might be able to diminish, and immediately that settled
all other matters. “I will do whatever I can to treat Mrs. Wallston
and improve her condition. Please know that I will do whatever is
necessary, whatever is possible, and
whatever is within my power and knowledge.” She knew it was
terribly forward, even scandalous, but she couldn’t help putting
her right hand on his arm, lightly. “If there is anything in modern
science that can cure her pain and yours, I will find it.” And
despite her skeptical statements of the previous day, she felt it
necessary to add, “God willing.”

He let her hand stay where it was for just a
moment, before stepping back slightly and letting Catherine
withdraw her hand. “Yes, I believe you will agree how necessary
God’s will is in this matter, when you see the severity of the
problem.” He walked to a large, dark wooden dresser and opened the
top drawer. “Please come over here, Dr. MacGuire.” She stood next
to him and saw that in the drawer was a leather jerkin of some
kind, together with large, thick gloves of the same material, and a
metal helmet, much like the soldiers had worn in the Great War,
though with the sides bent down more, so that they would come
closer to the wearer’s collar, covering more of the ears and neck.
“She’s so violent that I must ask you to wear these, at least when
you first meet her. Romwald wore them at first, but she’s gotten
used to him and me. It’s mostly changes in the routine now that
send her into a murderous frenzy. She becomes so savage that she
may even try to bite you, and you must be especially on guard
against that, for the wound might be so septic as to be fatal.” He
held up the jerkin. “I wouldn’t want you hurt.”

“
Oh, do you want me to
take that back to my room and put it on?” She didn’t quite
understand what he was suggesting.

Dr. Wallston saw her confusion, and blushed
now at his own lack of perception. “Oh, no, it fastens in the back,
there’s no way you could put it on yourself.” At this Catherine was
blushing much more than he, though his own redness deepened several
shades beyond hers when he realized what she thought he was
suggesting. “Oh, but it’s very large, as we made it for Romwald, so
you need only take off your jacket, nothing more.”

Catherine cleared her throat and took a deep
breath. Having a man watch her unbutton her jacket seemed much more
lewd than the simple fact of being in front of him in only her
blouse, so she turned her back to the doctor as she unfastened the
buttons, removed her jacket, and draped it over a chair. She turned
back towards him and he held up the leather jerkin so she could put
her arms in it. She then had to turn away from him so he could
fasten it. There was a pause. “Dr. MacGuire, I’m sorry, I hadn’t
reckoned on all the details of having a woman wear this. May I ask
you to let down your hair? It won’t fit under the helmet otherwise,
I’m sure.”

The blood was rushing back to her face again. “Well,
at least fasten the jacket and then I’ll take care of my hair.”

There was another pause. “That would be
another problem. I think it best if the hair went under the jacket.
Again, changes and surprises seem to incite my wife to a particular
fury, and I am afraid the site of your long, red hair would be much
like the red capes bullfighters use.”

Catherine knew her hair incited enough
negative attention in men, she hardly doubted that it could have a
similarly deleterious effect on a deranged woman. But it was still
galling, as though she flaunted it or brought it on herself. What
was she supposed to do? She was already three-quarters of the way
to being a eunuch; she bitterly thought how she might as well shave
her head and finish the job. She half turned back toward Dr.
Wallston, her eyes narrowed, her teeth clenched, and her voice just
a whisper. “What are you implying, doctor?”

He was stammering and as flustered as she.
“Nothing. Please, doctor, I just think concealing your hair would
be more therapeutic at this time.”

“
I see.” Catherine turned
away from him again. As with the buttons, to let down her hair
while facing him would be more whorish than anything she could
imagine or endure. She reached up and pulled out the pins and let
her hair fall. Dr. Wallston took the rather enormous flow of curls
and laid it on her back, then gathered in the strays locks and
gently smoothed down the soft and vibrant mass with his hands.
Catherine very deliberately kept herself from stiffening or
flinching at his very nearly inappropriate touch, but really, she
felt little inclined to bristle, for his touch was neither
suggestive, nor was it as awkward and tense as their verbal
exchange had just been. Instead, she could immediately feel how he
had successfully earned his reputation as a seducer, for his touch
was purely and simply comfortable, confident, and
natural.

Equally comfortable was how he finished,
letting her hair alone before it became impossible to ignore the
inappropriateness of their position, leaving her with a calm and
pleasant memory instead of more embarrassment. She could feel him
fastening the lowermost hook, then working his way up, tucking her
hair in at each hook. When he was finished, she turned and he
offered her the gloves and the helmet. She put these on. There was
a mirror above the chest and she saw herself, how absurd she
looked, like some Medieval pageboy at a battle or tourney. All she
needed was a halberd or lance to complete the picture.

Dr. Wallston checked his pocket watch. “Let
us go prepare to see the patient, doctor. It’s nearly time.”

Dr. Wallston led Catherine into a hallway near the
back of the house where there was a pale blue curtain suspended on
the wall. The curtain did not reach the floor, but only hung down
about halfway. Dr. Wallston pulled the curtain aside, revealing a
window behind it, about a foot high and six feet wide, set at eye
level. This window looked into an immaculate, tiled room, almost
blinding in its total and extreme whiteness, for not only were the
tiles this color, but so was every other item in the room. On the
left side of the room was a door – or rather, an oval metal hatch
with a circular handle and round window in it, the kind of
watertight hatch they would have on board a ship, or on the new,
hellish weapon of war, the submarine. Catherine looked to the left
and saw that there was a door a few feet down the hall, and she
suspected the hatch and that door both connected to an anteroom to
allow access to the tiled laboratory. In the middle of the tiled
room was an enormous tub, standing about four feet high and also
made of white tiles. It was filled with a liquid which, if it were
not for the stark and complete whiteness of its surroundings, might
have also looked pure white, but which the contrast revealed to
have a touch of yellow in it, like cream or buttermilk. The surface
rippled and swirled slightly, as though there were currents or
motion under the surface, and very faint wisps of a yellowish steam
or fog drifted up from it. There was a metal grate in the ceiling
above the tub, into which the yellow vapor drifted. Also in the
room were a large table and cabinet by the wall, a smaller table
with towels on it by the tub, and a folding screen near the
back.

Dr. Wallston pointed at the metal hatch, the
tub, then up at the grate. “We have to be extremely careful with
the revivification elixir and the vapors from it. It is a compound
of the most potent nerve stimulants, and it would be highly toxic
to any person who was not already dead. A whiff of the vapors would
induce tremors and mild hallucinations. Any contact with the liquid
would bring on vomiting, convulsions, and death almost
immediately.”

“
And for Mrs. Wallston
what is the effect, or the side effects?”

“
Motor and mental
stimulation to normal levels of activity. I’ve also added
emollients to keep her skin and hair from drying out. But of
course, with such stimulants, we can’t administer very much at
once, or the effect would be fatal, similar to how it would affect
a person not already dead, so she must bathe in it daily. She
ingests a tiny bit as well, to keep her digestive organs stimulated
and working. As I said, nighttime is when we see the primary
adverse side-effect, the difficulty in sleeping, for by then the
stimulation is wearing off to the point where she cannot move about
normally, but she cannot fully relax and sleep. As you know, of
course, our bodies do not require sleep, but rather, our brains do,
or we would go completely mad, so it is crucial that she sleep,
rather than simply give her more stimulants to keep her awake
constantly. She has the chemical bath in the morning, so she can
function normally through the day. I do not know if the chemicals
have any part in her maniacal rages. I have repeatedly and
meticulously gone over all the constituents and their properties
and effects, and there is no clear connection. I fear it is some
aberration or disorder much more deeply ingrained in her mind, in
her soul.” He shook his head.

Catherine nodded and watched the room, expecting
Mrs. Wallston to emerge from behind the screen and enter the tub.
Instead, two small hands slithered from out of the cream-colored
liquid and grasped the sides of the tub. At first, they were hard
to see, as they were so pale that they were indistinguishable from
the stark white of the sides of the tub. Even the nails were the
same shade, like chalk. Catherine gasped and her gloved hand
instinctively covered her mouth. She was later quite amazed that
she had stifled a scream, but really, the situation seemed beyond
such a reaction. It was, quite literally, breathtaking. Following
the hands, a head of wet blonde curls emerged. Under the curls was
a pair of large, dark goggles, like a welder would wear; the black
of the goggles and their strap was the only contrast in the room,
since the blonde hair was so light, almost platinum. A woman’s
upper torso slowly and gracefully rose beneath the head, her
breasts just breaking the creamy liquid’s surface. Most hideous of
all perhaps, neither her lips nor her nipples had the slightest
tinge of pink. The woman stood, turned away from them, and stepped
out of the tub. Her entire body was all the same ghastly hue. It
was not emaciated, as Catherine might have expected, but really
rather fulsome and curvaceous. The figure from the tub took up a
towel from the small table and wrapped herself in it as Dr.
Wallston closed the curtain.

“
It will take her a few
minutes to dry and dress herself. Are you all right? I know this is
difficult, but you must be prepared for the more unusual and
disconcerting aspects of my wife’s condition.”

“
Yes, I know, I’ll do my
best. But Dr. Wallston, we were standing here for several minutes.
How did she stay submerged for so long? I have to understand what’s
going on if I am to compose myself.”

“
My wife no longer
breathes, Dr. MacGuire. She is completely submerged in the chemical
bath for two hours each morning.”

Catherine blinked, trying
to take this in. “But you said you
revived
her, doctor. I don’t
understand what her condition is, if she is revived but doesn’t
breathe.”

“
I know that term was a
little misleading, and I apologize for that, but there is no
sufficient or accurate term in our language. I had thought to call
the process ‘reanimation,’ but that too is misleading, for she is
not simply moving about mindlessly like a puppet or an automaton.
She has all her faculties of speech, reason, thought, and emotion.
She is active, deliberate, mentally aware, and therefore, I
believe, fully human and alive, even if she lacks some of the
incidental, physical qualities of what we label ‘life.’”