Dorning carried the heavy grocery bag across the parking lot to the motel room. He had mixed feelings about leaving the professor alone while he went shopping, yet knew he couldn’t keep an eye on him every minute of every day. Their bitter argument had bothered him in the store and on the way home, however, and it was with growing apprehension now that he hurried to the door, fumbling with his keys, fearful of what he might find—or not find—inside.
What he saw nearly made him drop the bag.
The professor’s books were lined up on the dresser and on the desk were neatly stacked papers arranged in orderly rows.
But the professor wasn’t in view.
And then Dorning heard the bathroom door open and saw him step out, wearing fresh clothes.
“Percival!” He beamed. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was worried about you after our little disagreement. It looks like you’ve been very busy while I was gone. That’s wonderful, just wonderful.” He set the bag down on his bed.
Marlowe smiled, but his eyes were cold again. “I have an even better surprise for you, Doctor.”
The professor opened the top drawer of the desk and pulled out a large envelope.
“My completed manuscript, ready to mail.”
Dorning took the envelope and held it with reverence. “How many years did you say this took to finish?”
“Too many,” Marlowe replied. “I haven’t completed anything this significant in a quarter century at least. It’s some of my best work by far.”
Dorning felt overwhelmed and wiped his misty eyes. “Look at me, about to cry like a silly fool. Forgive me. I didn’t expect this so suddenly. See, I knew my faith in you was justified, Professor. I knew you wouldn’t let me down, or the world. And here’s the proof.” He shook the envelope then wiped his eyes again. “They’ll wrongly conclude this was a work you completed before you died, but someday they’ll know the truth and rejoice that Percival Marlowe is still alive and once again at the very forefront of science!”
The professor patted Dorning’s arm then took the envelope back. “Well, thank you, Doctor. All that’s left to do now is to mail it along with some other letters I’ve prepared.” He picked up two more envelopes from the desk.
Dorning’s eyes widened. “Others?”
“Relax, Doctor. These are rather mundane. Just some boring financial and legal correspondence.”
“Oh? What about?” Dorning looked at the smaller envelopes in the professor’s hand with curiosity.
The professor smiled stiffly. “Nothing much. You’ll see.”
Dorning beamed again. “My! We should argue more often if this is what comes out of it, Professor. You’ve been very, very productive this afternoon.”
Marlowe’s empty smile remained. “Yes. Well. Now all I need is some money for postage, Doctor. Hopefully we’re not that broke.”
“Oh no, we have enough to last a while longer. We’re not in dire straits just yet.”
“Really? Well, then if you don’t mind, could I get some to buy some supplies, maybe even enough for a few new books I need? I’m afraid they’re rather expensive.” He stared steadily at Dorning.
“Why, of course, of course.” Dorning hastily opened his wallet and pulled out five hundred-dollar bills and a few lesser ones. “Here. This is the most I can spare until your estate is finally settled.”
The professor took the money. “Thanks again.” He slipped the hundred dollars bills into one of the envelopes and stuffed the rest in his pocket.
“Well, you’re certainly entitled to it. I only wish I could give you more.” The doctor put his wallet away.
Marlowe briefly lowered his gaze. “I also want to thank you for all you’ve done for me. I might have sounded ungrateful before, but I mean it when I say the past few weeks have been absolutely extraordinary. Your achievement, although by questionable means, is nothing short of remarkable, Doctor. I want you to know that.” He firmly shook Dorning’s hand.
Dorning felt his eyes welling up again and proudly raised his head.
“Percival, this is only the beginning.”
“I know. No hard feelings, then?”
“No. I’m just surprised by your sudden change of heart. I didn’t expect it so quickly.”
The professor considered that a moment. “I guess the second chance you gave me allowed me to reexamine some of the beliefs I held in my first lifetime.”
Dorning waved a finger at him. “Don’t be too hasty to throw away those earlier beliefs, Professor. They served you well for a long, long time.”
“Yes, I suppose they did.”
He let go of Dorning’s hand. They both stood there awkwardly.
Marlowe stepped towards the door, broke the uncomfortable silence. “Well, I should go mail my letters.” He held them up for Dorning to see. “They’re not going to do any good sitting around here.”
“Would you like me to drive you?”
“No. I saw a post office right around the corner. You prepare our dinner, and I’ll be back soon. You can drive me to get my expensive new books some other time.” He opened the door, then remembered something, closed the door, and rubbed the tip of his nose. “Oh, by the way, Doctor. I was wondering. What is it again you use to restore me when I lapse back to being Miguel? I don’t remember.” He struggled to sound convincing.
“Use? Oh! This.” He pulled the swimming medal from his pocket and handed it to the professor. “That old, meaningless award has a very powerful effect on you Professor, far more so than anything else of yours. With it I’m able to trigger an immediate response in you, restore you through a veritable flood of happy childhood memories.” The doctor started emptying the bag of groceries on to his dresser.
“Oh yes, now I remember.” Marlowe pretended to study it yet couldn’t help but grin. “Strange how much this means to me, even now.” He hefted the medal in his palm. “I can feel it.” His joyful expression faded. “Funny how the simplest things . . .” He let the thought trail off and looked at Dorning, who was opening a package of paper plates. “Maybe I should keep this and examine it closely every day, Doctor. That would help me stay in control, now wouldn’t it?”
Dorning raised an eyebrow. “Yes! Indeed it would. An excellent suggestion. I should have thought of it myself. That could have avoided that last unpleasant relapse when you didn’t have the medal with you. Keep it, but guard it with your life, Professor, because in some ways that’s exactly what it is.” He waved a hand. “You know, I was surprised at how tenacious Miguel was, far more so than any of my animal subjects. He certainly didn’t give up without a fight, which under normal circumstances I would have found commendable. But we simply can’t afford to ever let him reappear again, now can we?” He looked back at the professor, his expression blank, as if he expected the professor would now fully agree.
Marlowe squeezed the medal tight in his fist, then came around to confront Dorning with one final hunch.
“It’s interesting you should say that about Miguel, Doctor. Are you sure there isn’t something else you aren’t telling me about your experiment, something more I deserve to know?”
Dorning refused to look directly at him as he unpacked the groceries. “What do you mean, Professor?”
“I mean even after you thought you had perfected your technique there were problems, weren’t there, Doctor? What exactly happened to your procedure, Doctor? What went wrong? And why do you suddenly seem so afraid of Miguel?” His eyes flashed and he stepped closer for the answer.
Dorning smiled weakly and stopped unpacking, still not looking directly at the professor. “A typically astute observation, Percival, although I’m not actually afraid of the boy.” He finally glanced at him, fleetingly. “I’m afraid for you.”
“Why?”
Dorning resumed unpacking, slower this time. He didn’t answer right away. “Because, to my immense disappointment, I discovered that if there are too many relapses lasting for too long, the final relapse becomes permanent, even if there was a complete memory transfer. Apparently the recipient’s own memory proteins can be quite tenacious, like the boy. Unfortunately, that means you could still be lost, Professor. If, however, we manage to keep you in control, and with your renewed cooperation today we will, Percival, we will”—he glanced fleetingly at him again—“in time the boy will finally be gone and those damnable relapses will no longer be possible. How long exactly we have to wait for that thankful, happy day I have yet to determine, but it shouldn’t be all that much longer. In other words, you aren’t quite out of the woods just yet. And that’s why I hope Miguel never returns, if you really must know. I hadn’t told you because I simply didn’t want you to worry. And that’s the only reason.” His expression turned less somber. “I’m still hopeful that someday I’ll find a better solution to that . . . stubborn little problem. That is, if I can ever return to my lab.” He looked around the motel room with disdain.
Marlowe nodded, secretly pleased to hear exactly what he had long surmised. It was just the information he needed, what he had hoped to hear.
“Well, Doctor, I guess there’s really nothing to worry about as long as I have the medal, right?” He held it up for Dorning to see then slipped it into his shirt pocket. “I better get to the post office before they close.” He went and opened the door, still staring at Dorning.
His back to the professor now as he prepared their cold meal, Dorning waved at him over his shoulder. “That’s fine, Percival. Dinner will be ready momentarily. Don’t take too long to mail those letters, and be careful now.” His voice sounded almost pleasant again.
Marlowe’s expression turned melancholy. “I’ll be careful. Goodbye, Doctor.”
He stared at Dorning for a little while longer, then quietly slipped away.