Chapter 9

In the morning, the porter brought the magazine, and while having breakfast, Kurt read the ridiculed article by McGlow. The essence of the article was that McGlow considered every ailment, including mental disease and psychological problems, as a being with some form of intelligence. Infiltrating inside a human, they formed certain structures that could be seen when the patient and doctor were immersed in a certain kind of hypnosis. In this state, the doctor could even 'fight' the disease, and physically destroy it. These conclusions were drawn from the work that McGlow had done with his terminally ill wife. However, he admitted that he had not been successful due to his age or lack of other abilities. Furthermore, McGlow warned that while in hypnosis, the doctor could take on the patient's disease, making the patient healthy, or both of them could become ill.

"No wonder he was ridiculed," thought Kurt. "But on the other hand, what made a recognized psychologist with a lot of monographs write such a work, which destroyed his carrier? Has he gone mad with grief?"

But Kurt remembered his meeting in the park before; McGlow was depressed but didn't seem demented at all.

"McGlow has never been a graphomaniac. He always conducted researches carefully and deserved respect in academic areas. Besides, he is known as an outstanding hypnotist, and I have no reason to doubt that he could invent a new technique, in which patients and doctors are immersed in a special kind of hypnosis. Moreover, it's very curious. I should ask him about it."

Kurt had prepared for his speech very thoroughly, and his preparations were worth it. Kurt managed to rivet attention on his speech, accept the ovations, and once again earn the respect of his colleagues.

The next speaker was Professor McGlow. When he went up to the stage, Kurt heard whispers. Somehow, it was unpleasant for Kurt. He felt pity for such a venerable gentleman. No, he didn't feel pity. It was sincere sympathy.

Clearing his throat, McGlow started to read his report. Those who were familiar with his article looked at him with irony, and some of them openly snorted, while the rest of the audience listened with a share of bewilderment on their faces. And Kurt, for some reason, wanted to sink into the floor. He looked the audience around, hoping that McGlow had at least one comrade-in-arms among the group. But no, he did not.

McGlow's report did not differ from the article Kurt had read before - it presented the same thesis, and it was clear that the old professor had no strength to defend himself. When the audience was allowed to ask questions, Kurt understood that there was no sympathy for McGlow. The queries proved to be insurmountable, and with each passing question, they grew evermore astute.

"And what do you say about feelings?" one of the listeners interjected suddenly. "If every emotion, every feeling, every thought could manifest as a sentient being, then perhaps we, as individuals, do not truly exist at all. Who is to say that I am truly myself and not merely a concoction of my own mind? Such ideas are dangerous, for they are excuses for criminals. They claim insanity, disordered personalities when committing their crimes. And when they are caught, they suddenly become repentant, and we are left to wonder how to judge them then."

"I didn't say that we lose our identity, though it's possible too," McGlow spoke in a faint voice. "I was talking about diseases, not about feelings."

"Welcome to the Middle Ages, is that what you were trying to say? Maybe we should call every ailment a possession by a demon?" sounded another voice. McGlow was ready to give up, and Kurt could not stand it anymore. He stood up and turned to the audience.

"Excuse me, gentlemen, for interrupting your heated argument, but I would like to speak too. I personally don't understand your intentions here. First of all, Mr. McGlow made it clear that his research had been focused on diseases and not on feelings or emotions. And secondly, I would like to remind you, gentlemen, that now is the age of science and enlightenment, not obscurantism, and we should not behave like proponents of orthodoxy. Revolutionary ideas are always treated with hostility! And yet, how often has something that seemed improbable suddenly turned into the everyday truth that we never noticed? I ask you not to forget that Mr. McGlow has had solid research experience, both theoretical and practical, and I have no reason to call Mr. McGlow's statements unfounded. Revolutionary - yes, but not unfounded. Besides, Mr. McGlow's great contribution to the development of various techniques of hypnosis, which he actively uses in working with his patients, doesn't allow me to stand by and accept such harsh remarks."

Kurt paused and looked around the hushed audience. "We all know that every disease develops according to its certain laws. Thanks to these laws, doctors can diagnose diseases, distinguish one from the other and assign adequate treatment. But in some cases, treatment turns out to be ineffective; the diseases vary in their aim to destroy the human body. And what about those cases where in spite of the diagnoses and disappointing forecasts of doctors, the patient recovered? You, pundits, don't call it a miracle of the Lord, do you? We all know that our mind is multidimensional, and we can only guess how many reserves and forces are hidden in it. Over the past several years, we have only slightly lifted the veil of secrecy. So what prevents us from wondering if the physical symptoms of diseases are merely a consequence of their introduction into the very soul of a human? If the structure of the disease takes control over the body, causing the organism to poison itself? Isn't this the way many diseases work? There is no outside influence - no poisoning or injury, but the person still dies. Doesn't a mental illness also work like this? When a person can't control his thoughts and feelings, as if someone else owns his body. And if that is so, then why can't we find the structure of the disease and destroy it, thereby freeing the man from the disease?" He paused again.

"It is unwise to discard ideas that seem incomprehensible to us. Perhaps they just outrun our time. Thank you for your attention." Kurt sat down in silence. Leaving the stage, McGlow looked at Kurt with gratitude. It was the first time in Kurt's memory that he had stood up for someone with such fervor.

By the evening, Kurt found an aching feeling in his chest. For the first time, he realized that he was yearning. Quickly saying goodbye to everyone, he hurried to his room, but on the way, he changed his mind and went to the park. There he sat on the bench, where the day before he had talked to McGlow, and looked at the pond.

It was dark, and timid moonlight reflected from the surface of the water. Kurt sighed. Alone, he only felt a sense of longing more strongly. He never missed his home. He had never seen a difference between possible places he might live. He could've easily settled in Manchester or Liverpool. He preferred London only because his teacher lived there and taught him. Kurt stayed in London after the teacher left, but he never thought that he had gotten used to the place. He went to a conference in the past year and the year before that, but he had never felt this longing before.

What has changed? Has meeting with John had such an influence on me?

He remembered McGlow's words. No, not from his presentation, but from what he had told him about his wife. He said only that she had died. Kurt felt his pain and anguish at that moment, but this was something more than pain and anguish. Kurt could not explain it. Here he was forced to admit his full ignorance. Kurt had never loved anyone.

This thought caused unpleasant feelings in his heart. Sitting in the dark and deserted park, Kurt could not recall any romantic interest in his life, even fleeting, not to mention more. Often he was the subject of adoration, but it didn't flatter him at all, and he remained indifferent to all romantic impulses.

During his time at Cambridge, a young woman relentlessly pursued his attention and affection. She was beautiful, well-educated, and well-bred, but to Kurt, that was all there was to her, nothing more. He could see her feelings for him clearly; they burned in her open eyes and blazed on her rosy cheeks. But did he truly comprehend what she felt? In the end, Kurt graduated and moved to London while she remained in Cambridge, and perhaps got married soon after. Kurt was unsure. They no longer met, and the details of people's personal lives held little interest to him unless it was regarding his patients.

But he had never burned with love. And it had not bothered or burdened him particularly until now. But why hadn't he burned? Was it not in his nature? Had he not yet found a worthy object for his love?

Kurt felt a new surge of excitement, and he threw back his head and sighed deeply.

And now I'm homesick. And the only thing that has changed since last year, is I met John Fenrir.

Kurt returned to his room after midnight but could not sleep. In the morning, he went back to London.