A flood of questions came to Lynn's mind. Do you have an orderly working for you by the name of George Roth? What sort of experiments are you currently running? What sort of drugs are you working with? Has there recently been a death in the asylum? But as Lynn's mind began to organize her questions into some sort of order, her thoughts froze.

It was his eyes. Dr. Bloch was staring right at her waiting for an answer. As Lynn stared into his eyes she thought, He knows. He knows what I am going to ask. He knows I have spoken with George but, more importantly, he wants to know what I know.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Bloch," said Lynn as she tried to form a smile on her lips. "I'm letting my own personal interests get in the way of the interview. I have always held an interest in the responsibility science has to society and the moral limitations of gathering empirical data. Please accept my apologies. Now tell me, what was the subject of your dissertation work?"

As the interview proceeded fear began to slowly creep into Lynn's mind. Deep down she felt as if she had exposed herself to Dr. Bloch. Although his personality and mannerisms were exactly the same as they were before the formal interview began, his eyes seemed somehow different. It was as if he was scanning her mind, trying to read her thoughts. He was a guilty man with a secret he wanted to keep and he would do anything to prevent it from going public. Anything. That was what scared Lynn.

The interview was finished approximately forty-five minutes later. As Lynn stood up and started to collect her things, Dr. Bloch asked if she would be interested in a "mini" tour of the facility.

"I have to go to the Clark-Smith wing to make my rounds and it's on your way out," said Dr. Bloch. "This way you can see how we treat our patients as people and not guinea pigs." Dr. Bloch smiled as he said this to provide Lynn an indication that this was suppose to be a joke.

"I'm not sure," said Lynn. "I really should be going . . ."

"No need to worry, it will only take a few minutes. You can see some of the patients and then Nurse Chapel will show you out. I think it would be a wonderful addition to your story."

Lynn looked directly into his eyes. The cold hateful scanning she felt earlier was gone. With her fear subsiding, Lynn agreed to the "mini" tour.

The living quarters of the inmates were nothing like Lynn imagined. She was thinking of padded cells and medical tables with restraining devices, but it was nothing like that. Instead, it looked more like a college dormitory. Each inmate had their own room with a bed, desk, table and some chairs. Many of them had television. The inmates were allowed to roam the halls, their doors unlocked. They were freely chatting with the staff as well as themselves.

"Most of these people look, well, uh -- normal," said Lynn as she looked around.

"Yes, most are well on to the way to complete recovery," said Dr. Bloch quite proudly. "In fact, the majority could be released today and, with their medication, lead completely normal lives. We have to keep them here a little while longer for observation and data collecting to satisfy the requirements of the FDA."

Suddenly screams came from the room at the end of the hallway on the left side of the corridor. Men in white coats ran to the room.

"Who is that," asked Lynn.

The doctor sighed. "That is Jerry. He is one of two individuals who have not responded positively to the drug out of a test group of one hundred. Poor soul. He keeps screaming about beings or entities trying to escape from his body."

Lynn peered through the little window near the top of the door. Two large orderlies were sedating Jerry as he continued to scream. Jerry reminded Lynn of that guy who use to play Grizzly Adams of TV. He was a big, heavy set guy with long blonde hair and a beard. Lynn turned to Dr. Bloch. "Is the other patient who didn't respond to the treatment currently in your facility?"

"Actually," said Dr. Bloch, "he died about three days ago. A suicide. Terrible situation. The patient literally beat himself to death. Shook up one of the orderlies pretty bad. In fact he quit."

"Really," said Lynn. That must have been George, thought Lynn.

"Well, I do not mean to be rude, but I have rounds to make and . . ."

"Certainly doctor," said Lynn. "I won't bother you any more than I have. Thank you for the interview."

Lynn looked up at Dr. Bloch as she extended her hand. That cold evil stare of his was back. Lynn felt utter contempt and loathing as she shook the doctor's hand.

"Yes, well you will have to let me know what issue the interview will be in," said Dr. Bloch. "I'm afraid I do not read the papers very often."

"I certainly will, and, again, thank you," said Lynn as she began to walk down the hallway. Nurse Chapel was not around, so an orderly on the other end other the hallway showed her the way out.

After Jerry was calmed down and the orderly came out of his room, Dr. Bloch turned to him and said, "Roger, it seems we may have a job for Jerry as early as late this afternoon. Please be sure that he is up and on his feet by then."

"Yes, doctor," said Roger.

She knows, thought Doctor Bloch. She knows something and whether it's the truth or not doesn't matter. What matters is that she think she knows something.

There was a message on Lynn's answering machine. She set her keys on the table and hit the play button. The voice sounded like George and from the tone of his voice he was extremely nervous.

"M-M-Ms. Seibel? It's me, George. I've got to talk to you. It's about our earlier conversations. I have information that will expose Dr. Bloch, but I do not want to meet in town. In-In fact, I'm leaving the state, but before I do I need to give you this information. Meet me along the eastern bank of the river, off Route 42, three miles south of town. You know, right where the tourists fish for trout in the fall? No one should be there this time of year. Meet me there at three o'clock. If you are more than ten minutes late, I will leave and you will never hear from me again. Please do not bring anyone with you. I hope you will be there. Goodbye, Ms. Seibel."

Lynn looked at her watch. It was 2:15. She had just enough time to make it. After speaking with Dr. Bloch, she had the impression that George was just a disgruntled employee looking to get some money out of Dr. Bloch. Perhaps George had some dirt on how Dr. Bloch conducted his research on his test patients. She had to talk to George. She had already invested too much time into this story to drop it now. But deep down inside Lynn had an unsettling feeling of dread. Not the kind of dread experienced when about to take a test one hasn't prepared for or waiting to see if that last check you wrote would bounce, but a primitive dread every living organism must have in order to survive.

Lynn decided she would go, but she wouldn't go without some sort of protection. She crossed the room and entered her bedroom. Underneath her bed in an old wooden box, she retrieved a small pistol. Ever since she was mugged in Philly four years ago by that group of teens, she had had the gun. Purchasing the weapon was the first thing she did after she filed the report with the police. Although she took shooting lessons at the local firing range, she never used the gun other than shooting practice. In fact, this was the first time she had taken the gun out of the box since her last lesson.

Lynn loaded the gun and put it in the inner left pocket of her winter coat. I can't believe I'm taking the gun. I must be getting paranoid in my old age, thought Lynn.

She left her apartment, checked the lock on her door by jiggling on the handle, and left for her meeting with George. As Lynn climbed into her car, she noticed the shadows already expanding in size. She knew it would be dark in about two hours and she didn't want to be along the river bank in the dark with a guy she had only met once. Lynn started the car and drove away.

Lynn parked her car on the side of the road. She then got out and proceeded down the embankment to the fishing pier. A light rain began and the chill in the air made her think of winter. Although it was the middle of the afternoon, she was surprised to see no one on the pier fishing the Susquehanna. In central Pennsylvania, fishing was the most important thing to many of the locals, second only to deer hunting.

Although no one was out on the pier, she did notice two fisherman out on the river in what looked like a small row boat. Lynn thought it was strange to be out on the Susquehanna in such a small boat. The flow and currents of the river had been known to claim the lives of people in large fishing vessels let along a small row boat. Lynn took her eyes off the fishermen and started to climb down the embankment.

Once she was safely down, Lynn began to walk towards the pier. She once again observed the fisherman out on the river. She had a better view of the fisherman along the shoreline and noticed that the two men in the row boat had no poles. Instead, they appeared to be dragging some sort of net alongside the boat. The men were completely covered with heavy robes and had hoods pulled over their heads. Lynn watched as the men pulled the net out of the water, squirming with what she assumed was a catch of shad.

Funny, thought Lynn, I didn't realize it was shad season. And why would commercial fishermen use such a small boat with such a large net. Maybe they are some scientists from the University doing some population studies . . .

Lynn was just about to step onto the pier when she noticed some movement over to the left. She turned and saw a large figure standing among the trees. The figure was similar in build to George and had the same heavy brown sweatshirt on, when they first met in the diner. This immediately made Lynn feel a little more relaxed; however, for some strange reason she still had to push back some unreasonable fear that kept entering her mind. Perhaps the fear was from the fact that she couldn't see George's face. He had the hood over this head.

Don't freak out. It's cold out here, that's all. Lynn told herself.

"Miss Seibel. It's me George. Over here. Could you please come over here. I don't want to be out in the open," said the figure.

Oh man, thought Lynn, he's really paranoid that Dr. Bloch is out to get him. I just hope he's not a nut. Lynn felt the gun in her left-hand pocket. Again, in spite of the reassurance of self protection, Lynn was plagued with some irrational fear.

"O.K., George," said Lynn as she slowly walked toward him. "Here I come. You have something for me on Dr. Bloch?"

"Ssshhhhh!" said the hooded figure as he shuffled from one foot to the other. "He may be around!"

"Who?" asked Lynn in a softer voice.

"The doctor!" shouted George, after which he cursed himself for being so loud. "If he knows we're here talking, we're done for."

"George,"said Lynn. "You said you had evidence to prove that Dr. Bloch was responsible for the recent death in the asylum."

"Yes, yes," muttered George as he slowly approached Lynn. "But first, I'm sorry."

"What do you mean. . . ." started Lynn when suddenly with lightning speed, a piece of cloth was jammed into her mouth and nose. The chemical smell coming from the cloth told her that it was soaked with chloroform. Lynn struggled in an attempt to grab the gun out of her inner coat pocket, but to no avail. While a set of hands kept the cloth mashed into her face, another set held her arms. Lynn quickly lost conscious.

In a fuzzy haze, Lynn awoke and immediately recognized that she was being carried by someone. She was slung over the hooded figure's shoulder and was held by her feet. The figure must have incredible strength to carry someone in this manner. Lynn still felt sluggish. She looked up and noticed that they were moving down a tunnel. The tunnel must be some sort of storm sewer, since she could see the Susquehanna River. She then realized that they were not alone. She heard her captor speak to others in front of her. They spoke in a strange manner and unknown language.

Lynn attempted to reach for her gun when she noticed movement on the floor of the sewer. She could see small cephalopod-like creatures moving toward the river. The creatures looked like a cross between a human brain and an octopus. Seeing the creatures, the effects of the chloroform and the fact that she was upside-down with the blood rushing to her head, was too much for her. Lynn blacked out again.

When Lynn regained consciousness, she immediately realized she was naked and tied to the floor with heavy chains. She could still move around, but only within a radius of approximately ten feet. It is dark. Oh so dark. She guessed she was in some sort of chamber.

Shit, Lynn thought to herself, that bastard did this to me. I can't believe I fell for this! Get a grip on yourself, Lynn, otherwise you might not get out of this. You can always re-grow your hair back. First I've got to get out of here.

Lynn was in a small room constructed of stone block. The floor was made of large stones, so tightly packed together that she could not shove her fingernail between two of the stones. They reminded her of the huge blocks of the great pyramids. As her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, she noticed a passageway to her left. Beyond the passageway was only darkness. Lynn then shifted her body and noticed a small circular opening in the floor to her right. She look into the hole and saw nothing, but she did hear the rush of water.

That must be the sewer system that drains into the river. thought Lynn. She proceed to grope the floor for her clothes, which were nowhere to be found.

"Hello?" said Lynn. "Hello? George are you here? Let me go and I won't tell a soul, I promise, George. You can leave Dellville and no one will find you. You can start a new life. I'll write a story about seeing you jump off the Coaldust Bridge and print it in the paper. That way no one will come looking for you. George, are you there? George!" Even though she was chained to the floor and scared shitless, Lynn felt extremely odd talking to the darkness. She felt as if she was betraying the trust or secret of some ancient god by breaking the quiet.

"George! I know you can hear me!! Answer me!! God damn it, answer me!!" Lynn now realized that she truly was alone and this made her crack. She screamed. Screamed at the top of her lungs. Screamed about how stupid she was for trusting George and how she would do anything to be free.

After about thirty minutes her screams became sobs and cries of despair. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she begged for anyone to answer her pleas. But no one answered from the darkness. Totally drained and emotionally numb, Lynn laid down on her left side with she cheek directly on the cold stone floor.

Lynn was just about to slip into the forgiving state of dream when she heard movement coming from the tunnel. It sounded like movement, but movement with sloshing. Like someone was trying to walk with boots on filled with water.

"Hello," said Lynn as her sat up. "George is that you? Come on, let me go and I swear no one will know."

As the sloshing noise increased, Lynn realized from the movement that more than one person was coming down the tunnel. Cloaked figures entered her line of vision. "G-G-George? You there?"

The figures continued to approach Lynn, not uttering a word. Once they entered the room, they surrounded her. The hood of each figure completely covered their heads, so Lynn could not see their faces.

"Please," said Lynn in a stern voice. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone about this I swear. Don't panic, thought Lynn. Try to keep your composure and you might get out of this alive.

For the first time since the figures entered the room, Lynn noticed that each figure was carrying something. Some were holding books, while others were holding jars, sticks, stones and other unidentified objects. The robed figures formed a semicircle around Lynn and one of them approach her with a gas lantern. It was Dr. Bloch.

"Hello Ms. Seibel. I am sorry we have to meet in such unpleasant circumstances."

"What the hell is going on?" moaned Lynn. "Please let me go."

"Again I am sorry, but your association with Mr. George Roth has made you a liability to our project and therefore we must correct this."

"What are you talking about," cried Lynn. "I was just following a story George told me about something that happened in your asylum. I won't tell anyone about it. I swear. Just let me go."

"I don't know exactly what Mr. Roth told you, but, you see, that's the problem. Our work here must be kept extremely confidential. Mr. Roth stumbled onto something that he should not have seen, and he dragged you into it. I am sorry."

"Why to you keep saying your sorry!" shrieked Lynn. "Please let me go!"

"I can not," said Dr. Bloch and he then proceed to talk to the robed figures. It was a language utterly alien to Lynn. By his tone and the response of the figures, it appeared to Lynn that Dr. Bloch was giving instructions.

Three of the figures started to rub some sort of lotion on Lynn's head. My God, Lynn thought. It's a cult! A God damn cult!

The figures now began to chant in some unrecognizable language. Lynn stared at their hands in the feeble light. Their fingernails were more like claws and the skin had an almost scaly appearance.

"You see, Ms. Seibel, like your friend Mr. Roth, you stumbled upon a series of experiments that have yet to be made public, and my client is extremely concerned about privacy."

"Privacy? What are you talking about?" asked Lynn. Suddenly her felt drugged. It was getting very difficult for her to talk. The chanting continued. Inside she felt like screaming and thrashing about, but she could barely focus her eyes on Dr. Bloch. The robed figures continued to apply the white cream on her shaved head.

"Yes, my 'client,' for lack of a better word," say Dr. Bloch. "Let's just say that I have been hired to investigate and test some of the theories of symbiosis on sentient beings. Please don't bother to talk. At this point the salve has affected your nervous system enough that your vocal chords are practically useless. These experiments show beyond a shadow of a doubt that humans are an aggregate or conglomeration of other, more evolved beings. Such theories have been proposed on a cellular level but not on an organismal level. So just as each cell of ours can be thought of as an evolutionary team of bacterial cells, our bodies are a team of entities that, unless coaxed into symbiosis, would otherwise live out separate lives. You see we humans . . ."

Dr. Bloch sighed. "I suppose at this point it is futile to continue into the scientific explanation of my experiments. On a subconscious level you already know what I'm talking about."

The robed figures stopped their chanting, moved away from Lynn, and into the shadows. Dr. Bloch walked over to Lynn and examined her eyes. They were completely dilated. Drool ran out of her mouth as her body had minor spasms.

"Yes," said Dr. Bloch staring directly into Lynn's eyes. "You already know what's going on."

Dr. Bloch turned to the robed figures and said, "I believe we have attained a high enough degree of purity to consider the salve a success. She is the first one who barely made a sound through the process. No shouting and no screaming."

One of the robed figures approached Dr. Bloch and whispered, "Excellent. How many more experiments are required before we can apply the salve on a larger scale?"

Dr. Bloch took off his glasses and wiped them with his handkerchief. "In order to perform the statistical analysis I outlined in my proposal to you, I need at least thirty more subjects."

"Consider it done. What type of human do you need?"

"For the statistical analysis to be as powerful as possible, I need a variety of people. Young, old, male, female and all of the major races. I will also have to make several more batches of the material to confirm that it can be produced on a consistent basis. I must admit the instability of the original organic compounds you provided gave me little confidence in our success."

Lynn continued to drool.

"The Old Ones serve us well, when we show them the proper respect and worship. You will have your human test subjects within one week," whispered the robed figure. Some of the others began to file out of the cavern.

Inside her mind, Lynn heard voices. She felt that the voices were part of her, that their whispers accounted for the total sum of her existence. Her body spasmed. She felt as if she were several people, no, several entities locked in one space at one time. As her consciousness started to fracture into several pieces, only one thing was on her minds . . . Water . . . Water . . . we must get to the water . . . water. . . .

Most of the robed figures began to file out of the room; however, two remained to observed Lynn's progress with Dr. Bloch. Lynn's body slumped over, her face hitting the hard, cold stone floor. The low gurgling noise she was making earlier ceased as she lost all muscle control and laid in a pool of her own feces and urine.

In spite of fact that portions of her physiological processes were beginning to shut off one by one, the entities that were collectively known as Lynn started to awaken. Water . . . we must find the water . . . It was at this point that cracking noises began. One of the entities was trying to break free; it had to, to survive. Now that it was sentient unto itself, it had to escape. It had to leave the remaining entities before it was too late. Before it suffocated in a tomb of flesh and bone. It had to get out and find water.

The skull of the collective entity once known as Lynn started to fracture and break. A series of small, green tentacles made their way out of the base of the skull as the entity struggled for freedom.

At this point, Dr. Bloch turned from the gory spectacle and said to the two remaining robed figures, "Continue to observe the process and please note anything that deviates from the standard results. Such information may be critical in improving its relative efficiency and predictability."

"Where are you going?" whispered one of the figures.

"Back to the asylum," said Dr. Bloch. "Ms. Seibel here is not a homeless bum. She will be missed. Therefore, we must allow the community to find her body."

"Why is that?" asked the second figure. "Why not dump the remaining husk into the river like the others?"

"Because we can't afford the type of investigation involved with a missing person, replied Dr. Bloch. "Remember, the last people she spoke with were me and my staff. The police will figure that out."

"What are you going to do?"

"I believe Nicashimmy Psychiatric Hospital is going to have a break out. Yes, I believe Jerry will escape and be on the loose. Jerry, certified by myself as highly dangerous and insane, will find Ms. Seibel and kill her in a most unpleasant fashion. He will crush her skull with a rock. Although the asylum may be reprimanded for a laxness in security, it will allow the police to wrap up the case and leave us alone. Now if you will excuse me gentlemen, there is much planning to do. You know, plan an escape route, plant DNA evidence, convince someone that they are a murderer. Continue to watch her progress." With that Dr. Bloch turned and left the two robed figures.

"He is a clever man," whispered the first figure.

"Yes," replied the other, "for a human. The Old Ones will reward him for his efforts. Pity for him it won't be in the way he expects to be rewarded."

The two figures continued to observed the small tentacled creature break out of the skull like a fledgling bird cracking open an egg.

Water . . . must get to the water . . . water . . . thought the strange little creature that once had been Lynn Seibel's mind. The creature finally plopped out of the skull and oozed across the stone floor toward the river.

"Should we collect it now?" asked the second figure.

"No," replied the first. "The Jacboralli need to exercise their instincts in this reality if they are to survive and in this reality one must know and experience water. Let it go. The netters will capture it once it has reached the water. Come, we must go and prepare for the additional tests."

The robed figures turned and left the room through the passageway Dr. Bloch and the others had used. Meanwhile, the strange creature that had once been the collective thought center of Lynn Seibel continued to drag its brain-like body toward the river with its mass of tentacles.

The sun was now setting, giving the valley and the river a purplish hue. The creature reached the end of the storm sewer pipe and dropped into the river with a splash. Now I know. Now I understand where I am and what I must do. Water. I am in water, but I am not of water. Now I know. The creature began to swim against the current, moving its body forward with a withering mass of tentacles.

As the creature hit the water, one of the netters in the boat looked up from the work at hand. "Another one," he grunted to his companion. They continued to haul the net up into the boat, harvesting the Jacboralli from the Susquehanna River as the sun set.

Lynn was an hour late, but Paul was used to her lack of punctuality. Dinner was getting cold and he had made her favorite -- lasagna. I hope she didn't grab a bite to eat on the road.

Paul took another sip of wine. He called her apartment twice, only to get her answering machine. Relax. She's just running a little late. She's on assignment. You know how she is when she's on assignment. She forgets about the time.

Paul breathed a sigh and poured himself more wine. She's probably wrapping up a killer interview with Dr. Bloch. . . .

Created: October 5, 1998; Updated: August 9, 2004