Passage by Connie Willis Read Free Book Online Page B

researchers might collect data and do statistical samplings, might publish papers in
The Psychology Quarterly Review
, might even make a good impression on children, but it was all a blind. They were really latter-day spiritualists using pseudoscientific trappings to lend credibility to what was really religion. He started down the hall to the elevators.
    “Dr. Wright!” Tish called after him.
    He turned around.
    Tish said, “Here she is,” and turned to hurry after a young woman in a skirt and cardigan sweater walking toward the nurses’ station. “Dr. Lander,” she said as she caught up to her. “Dr. Wright wants to talk to you.”
    Dr. Lander said, “Tell him I’m—”
    “He’s right
here,”
Tish said, waving him over. “Dr. Wright, I found her for you.”
    Damn you, Tish, he thought, another minute and I would have been out of here. And now what am I supposed to tell Dr. Lander I wanted her for?
    He walked over. She was not, as Tish had said, mousy, although she did wear glasses, wire-rimmed ones that gave her face a piquant look. She had hazel eyes and brown hair that was pulled back with silver barrettes.
    “Dr. Lander,” he said. “I—”
    “Look, Dr. Wright,” she said, putting her hand up to stop him. “I’m sure you’ve had a fascinating near-death experience, but right now’s not the time. I’ve had a very bad day, and I’m not the person you want to talk to anyway. You need to see Maurice Mandrake. I can give you his pager number.”
    “He’s in with Mrs. Davenport,” Tish said helpfully.
    “There, Tish will show you where he is. I’m sure he’ll wantto know all the details. Tish, take him in to Mr. Mandrake.” She started past him.
    “Don’t bother, Tish,” he said, angered by her rudeness. “I’m not interested in talking to Dr. Lander’s partner.”
    “Partner?” Dr. Lander wheeled to face him. “Who told you I was his partner? Did
he
tell you that? First he steals all my subjects and
ruins
them and
now
he’s telling people we work together! He has no right!” She stamped her foot. “I do
not
work with Mr. Mandrake!”
    Richard grabbed her arm. “Wait. Whoa. Time out. I think we need to start over.”
    “Fine,” she said. “I do
not
work with Maurice Mandrake. I am
attempting
to do legitimate scientific research on near-death experiences, but he is making it
absolutely
impossible—”
    “And I’ve been
attempting
to contact you to talk to you about your research,” he said, extending his hand. “Richard Wright. I’m doing a project on the neurological causes of the near-death experience.”
    “Joanna Lander,” she said, shaking his hand. “Look, I’m really sorry. I—”
    He grinned. “You’ve had a bad day.”
    “Yes,” she said, and he was surprised by the bleakness of the look she gave him.
    “You said this was a bad time to talk,” he said hastily. “We don’t have to do it right now. We could set up a meeting tomorrow, if that would be better.”
    She nodded. “Today just isn’t—one of my subjects—” She recovered herself. “Tomorrow would be good. What time?”
    “Ten o’clock? Or we could meet for lunch. When is the cafeteria open?”
    “Hardly ever,” she said, and smiled. “Ten is fine. Where?”
    “My lab’s up on six-east,” he said. “602.”
    “Tomorrow at ten,” she said, and started down the hall, but before she had gone five steps she had turned and begun walking back toward him.
    “What—” he said.
    “Shh,”
she said, passing him. “Maurice Mandrake,” she murmured, and pushed open a white door marked “Staff Only.” He glanced back, saw a pin-striped suit coming around thecorner, and ducked in the door after her. It was a stairway, leading down.
    “Sorry,” she said, starting down the gray-painted cement stairs, “but I was afraid if I had to talk to him right then, I’d kill him.”
    “I know the feeling,” Richard said, starting down the stairs after her. “I already had one encounter