David Palmer - Emergence

Hesitated, struck by idea. Might work or not. Never tried before. But success depended on Adam believing: Positive attitude intrinsic to execution.

Assumed confident aspect, said, “ Whoa…! Adam, we don’t have to do it the hard way…!”

Adam opened eyes, peered up at me cautiously. Removed mouthpiece; bodily tension eased imperceptible fraction. “How else?”

“Hypnosis!” I announced in what hoped was triumphant tone. “I forgot — you’re a great hypnotic subject. We’ll just put you under and anesthetize your arm. You won’t feel a thing.”

Adam looked dubious. “It hasn’t worked with the hysterical-strength tap.”

“Of course it hasn’t worked; you’ve been fighting it,” I stated positively. “You know you have — you’re scared of hysterical strength because of what happened to me. You achieve as deep a trance as I do, but you block the suggestion. If you want it to work, it will. ”

Relieved to see hint of hope nudge in alongside pain in Adam’s expression. Knew seed planted, taking root; but didn’t give him time to think about it. Kept momentum building: continued sales pitch, preinduction psychology:

“Remember my telling you how Daddy did double duty, working as a GP as well as a pathologist? Well, he didn’t like drug-assisted deliveries because of the effect on babies; he used chemicals only when a woman absolutely couldn’t reach a useful trance state in classes during the months leading up to the delivery. Otherwise he used hypnosis exclusively. I often helped during deliveries, and I never once saw a woman evince discomfort during delivery under hypnosis — and childbirth is the standard against which all other pain is gauged, remember.

“Now, you’re already past the hard part: You achieve a full somnambulistic-level trance. Unless you fight the suggestion, it will work !”

Adam visibly relieved. “You’re right. But I don’t think I can do it myself, hurting like this; it’s hard to concentrate on anything but the pain. But I can follow your voice. Will you put me under?”

Of course would. And did. Adam responded immediately to preprogrammed induction code; slid into profound trance state as promptly as if session merely another in regular series dealing with focusing ki, tapping hysterical strength. Pain-drawn features eased even before turning attention to anesthesia: Total concentration characteristic of deepest trance state precluded sparing attention to notice pain.

However, could hardly count on incidental effects to protect against bone-resetting agony. So proceeded with anesthesia induction: Reminded Adam how sleeping in wrong position sometimes puts arm “to sleep”: complete sensation lack, plus motor paralysis. Explained acupressure point just under armpit responsible. Placed finger on supposed location; told him 30 seconds’ firm pressure there would put arm to sleep for minimum of two hours; repeatable as necessary.

Pressed firmly and — no wonder primitive societies regarded hypnotism as magic — whole body sagged as relief from pain canceled subconscious adrenaline alert.

More importantly, spasming muscles in damaged arm went limp; perhaps could perform resetting without triggering own hysterical strength. Only one way to find out.

Replaced knee in Adam’s armpit. Took elbow in right hand, left hand over break; again clamped forearm under own armpit. Then pulled firmly but with control. Stretched limb until felt broken ends grind clear of each other, opposing bulges disappear beneath left hand. Eased tension, allowed ends to settle into what hoped was apposition.

Studied result. Reduction apparently successful: arm grossly straight, same length as right. But palpation ineffective in final determination, and no knowledge of x-ray. Hoped okay. Best I could do.

Slipped plastic splint halves into place. Strapped upper arm to side; bent elbow 90 degrees, strapped forearm across abdomen.

Gave wake-up code. Adam sighed, stirred — then froze, body tense, apparently awaiting pain’s resumption. When failed to materialize, opened eyes cautiously, looked around. “Done?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Fixed?”

“I think so. It’s straight and they’re both the same length. Ask me again in six weeks.”

Adam regarded me searchingly. “Are you all right? After what happened the last time you used hysterical strength…” Assured him metabolic supercharge unnecessary; had not suffered.

Unstrapped him from table; let sit on edge for while, waiting for residual dizziness, nausea to pass.

Presently shuddered. “That was not fun. It doesn’t hurt now, but it sure did before.” Eyed left hand where protruded from strapping. “This is like waking up after sleeping wrong. But it’s scary — I assume my hand will work again once it’s worn off?”

“As soon as you want it to wear off. You can keep it numb for as long as it bothers you by renewing the acupressure block. But you’ll be playing piano again as soon as the splint comes off.”

Adam nodded; then looked up abruptly. “We’ve got to find that kid. He was clean — that means he’s not alone: A kid that size doesn’t bathe except under duress.”

Good point. (Does have unique talent for isolating essential details.)

“I suppose we can drive up and down the streets, blowing the horn and yelling until we find them.”

Adam shook head. “A kid on a bike covers more territory than a tomcat — it would take forever.

“If it weren’t for this” — he indicated splinted arm — “I’d fly a search pattern. That would bring them out — I doubt if planes are a routine sight these days.”

Felt heart miss beat, but tried not to let elation show. Asked nonchalantly, “Does it take long to learn to fly?”

Adam regarded me thoughtfully. “No; flying is almost instinctive — though the ‘almost’ is important; the differences can kill you. But with your brains, reflexes, and coordination, you shouldn’t have a bit of trouble.”

Thought briefly. “We should find someplace wide and flat. Most parking lots are roomy enough for ultralight operation, but an airport would be better for instruction.”

Checked couple gas stations, found Riverside city street map; then drove to airport.

With one-armed coach’s advice, assistance, unfastened bundle from trailer roof, assembled toy plane in about an hour. Adam explained, demonstrated controls, radio helmet (didn’t bother to point out base-station transceiver amongst goodies on trailer’s electronics wall when he flew; just let me worry!), verified operation. Strapped me in, started engine. Then coached by radio, step-by-step:

Slow taxiing first, gradually increasing speed to learn steering transition from differential braking to rudder; then high-speed taxiing to get feel of all controls biting airstream. Followed by more high-speed taxiing, lifting, lowering, alternate wings to acquire feel of aileron/rudder interaction. Then still more high-speed taxiing, raising, lowering nosewheel to learn elevators.

Big Moment finally arrived: Allowed me to increase power fraction beyond setting used for high-speed taxiing. Main gear lifted from runway — was flying …!

Not high, of course; Adam kept me skimming up, down runways, yard above ground, for hours: lift-off, touchdown; shallow right, left turns — endless repetition. Never exceeded 30 knots. Slow-flight practice continued until could detect imminent stall power on or off; whether normal or gee-induced, accelerated variety (cute phenomenon, that: stalling speed mounts as gee forces increase aircraft’s effective weight); ease in, out of stalled condition without height, control loss.