Robin Cook - Mindbend

When Goddard finished speaking, Powell stepped back to the microphone and said, “And now we have a surprise. For your enjoyment, let me present the Caribbean Dancers.”

Doors on either side of the speaker’s platform burst open and a dozen scantily clad dancers swept into the room. Adam noticed only two men. The rest were unusually pretty young girls. Behind the dancers was a rock group with electric guitars. This band quickly set up speakers on the plaform.

As the girls worked the audience, Adam saw that Powell and Goddard were standing to one side as if trying to assess the effect of the dancers on the usually restrained medical group. After a few minutes Adam found his attention held by a particularly attractive brunette. She had narrow hips and firm, upstanding breasts. She caught Adam’s eye for just a moment and he could have sworn that she winked at him. Unfortunately, Adam’s stomach was not cooperative, and in the middle of the performance, Adam reluctantly decided that he’d better visit the deck.

Excusing himself, he fought his way through the boisterous crowd in more and more of a hurry to get away. He barely reached the rail of the promenade deck before his stomach turned over and he vomited violently over the side. After a minute he glanced around to check if anyone had seen him. Thankfully, the deck was deserted. Lowering his eyes, he inspected the front of his shirt. It was clean. Relieved, Adam wandered forward into the wind. He wasn’t ready to go below yet.

After a few minutes he felt a little better, and when he reached the door forbidden to passengers, he simply opened it and walked through. The lights were scarcer in this part of the ship and the deck was a plain unvarnished gray. Adam walked all the way to the bow and looked down on a tangle of ropes and chains. The sea leaped and twisted on either side. The starry sky stretched out above him.

A hand suddenly fell on Adam’s shoulder.

“This is an unauthorized area,” said a man with a Spanish accent.

“I’m sorry,” said Adam nervously, trying to make out the man’s face. “This is my first cruise and I was just wandering around. Any chance of visiting the bridge?” Adam remembered the adage that the best defense was offense.

“Are you stoned?” asked the man.

“Me?” said Adam, taken aback. “No. I’m fine.”

“No offense,” said the man, “but we’ve had some bad experiences with passengers in the past. The captain happens to be on the bridge. I’ll see if he’ll let you up.”

After asking for Adam’s name, the man disappeared as silently as he’d arrived. A moment later a voice shouted down, inviting him up. There was a ladder to starboard.

Adam walked around the side and found a stairway. He guessed that on a ship a ladder and a stairway were the same thing. At the top, the man with the Spanish accent was holding open the door to the bridge.

Inside, Adam saw that the instruments were illuminated by red lights, giving the room a surrealistic air. The man at the wheel ignored Adam’s presence, but another man stood up and introduced himself as Captain Eric Nordstrom. He seemed younger than Adam would have expected and, at first, seemed rather wary of his guest.

“José said this is your first cruise, Dr. Smyth.”

“That’s right,” said Adam uneasily, remembering that Smyth had already been on an Arolen cruise. The captain made no comment, and Adam asked, “Who owns the ship?”

“I’m not sure,” said Nordstrom. “The crew works for a company called MTIC. Whether they own the ship or lease it, I don’t really know.”

“Is MTIC a good employer?”

Captain Nordstrom shrugged. “We get our paychecks on time. It’s a bit boring running the same route over and over, and socializing with this crew has its limitations.”

“Don’t you get to meet the passengers?” asked Adam.

“Never,” said Captain Nordstrom. “MTIC is strict about keeping the passengers and the ship’s crew from fraternizing. You’re the first person I’ve had on the bridge in a long time. We’ve had some unfortunate experiences with the passengers getting drunk.”

Adam nodded. If the amount of alcohol that the doctors had consumed tonight was any indication, he wasn’t surprised.

Away from the sea breeze, the pitching of the ship began to bother Adam again, and he decided to say good-bye.

“José, accompany Dr. Smyth back to the passenger section,” said Captain Nordstrom.

José moved quickly, preceding Adam out the door. He went down the steep ladder, oblivious to the movement of the ship. Adam followed but much more cautiously.

“In a day or so you’ll have your sea legs,” said José with a laugh.

Adam wondered.

As they walked aft, José offered some technical details about the ship. Adam nodded dutifully, but most of the terms went over his head. When they got to the barrier, José hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. In the better light Adam could see the man’s face, which was dominated by a luxurious mustache.

“Dr. Smyth…” began José. “I was wondering if you would do me a favor.”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Adam suspiciously. From what the captain had said, crew and passengers were not supposed to mix, and Adam was not interested in any trouble. On the other hand, the idea of having a friend among the crew was appealing and could come in handy.

“They sell cigarettes in the ship’s store,” said José. “If I gave you the money, would you buy some for me?”

“Why don’t you get them yourself?” asked Adam.

“We’re not allowed beyond this door.”

Adam considered the request. It seemed sufficiently innocuous. “How many packs do you want?”

“As many as you can get for this.” José reached into his pocket and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill.

Adam had the feeling that José’s request wasn’t so innocent after all. José was probably running a little shipboard black market.

“Let me start with ten dollars’ worth,” said Adam.

José quickly substituted a ten for the fifty.

Adam took the money and told José that he’d meet him at the same location the next day at eleven. He remembered from the lecture schedule there was a coffee break scheduled at that time. José smiled broadly, his teeth startlingly white against his mustache.

Taking a few deep breaths of sea air, Adam went inside and headed for his stateroom.

Adam heard the voice calling Dr. Smyth but ignored it. The name had nothing to do with him, and he preferred remaining immobile. Then someone grasped his arm and with great effort he opened his eyes.

“My glasses,” said Adam, surprised to find he was slurring his words.

Slowly and carefully he swung his feet over the side of the bunk and groped around on the night table. His hand hit the glasses and knocked them on the floor. Reaching over to pick them up, he suddenly remembered he was Dr. Smyth.

The steward handed him a glass of water.

“Thank you,” said Adam, puzzled.

Then the steward held out another one of the yellow capsules. Without hesitating, Adam took it and put it into his mouth. But as he had done the day before, he didn’t swallow it, taking a little water instead.

Satisfied, the steward took the glass into the bathroom. Adam slipped the capsule from his mouth.

“Excuse me,” he said, his words much clearer. “What are these yellow pills?”

“They are to relax you,” the steward said in his oddly mechanical voice.

“Hey,” said Adam. “I am relaxed. A little seasick maybe, but relaxed. Wouldn’t it be better if you gave me something for my stomach?”

“The yellow pills are to make you more relaxed and receptive,” the steward said, opening the door.