A Window on the Soul Read online

modification for special study in Phase Three. Norstein however pointed out that the suggestion of a blush, with an absence of verbal comment that might be significant, showed the need for particular caution. “It looks as though it may be something that embarrasses her, so make quite sure that when you apply the feedback it’s negative with a fairly high gain in the loop.”

  So it was done, but when the feedback was switched into action Sandra reacted violently and pressed the panic button. This caused consternation until someone suggested that because of the data processing involved, the instrumental response might have lagged far enough behind the impulse that triggered it to coincide with a neurological correction, overshoot, and set up a wild oscillation. Such an important reaction clearly warranted a thorough study, and Norstein asked if Sandra would be willing to co-operate provided that the loop gain were turned down to a level she could tolerate.

  Rather reluctantly, she agreed, but after a few sessions she told Norstein that she couldn’t go on with it.

  “Not even with the feedback reduced still further?”

  “I’m sorry, but no.”

  “I don’t want to push you, but …”

  “You see, it’s causing trouble at home.”

  “Too much time away? We can adjust the schedule if that would help.”

  “No, that’s not it. It’s rather embarrassing ... but ... well, it’s affecting my marriage.”

  “How on earth ...?”

  “You see, when I’m with my husband, and he starts to get affectionate, the mental images come back and … well, make it hard to respond.”

  “In what way?”

  “Oh, do we have to go right into it?”

  “I can’t force you – couldn’t even if I wanted to. But unless you can give an account of it, we’re left with a problem that we can’t begin to solve because we don’t know what it is. Anything you say will be in strict confidence, of course.” To emphasise the point, he went to the door and checked that there was no one else about.

  After a few minutes of internal wrestling, Sandra forced herself to say that whenever she reached the crucial moment, she found herself imagining being with someone else. She had strong views on the sanctity of marriage vows, dinned into her by a traditional upbringing, and the idea of even hypothetical adultery appalled her to the extent that she couldn’t bear to be touched.

  “Ah, I see. I suppose we should have thought of that – after all, psychologists have a reputation for putting everything down to sex, haven’t we?”

  “It isn’t funny!”

  “No, of course not – I didn’t mean to trivialise it. Very distressing. I’m sorry to press you, but – can you tell me? – the other person – was it anyone in particular?”

  Sandra struggled mentally for a few seconds, then – “Yes, it was.”

  “Would it be indelicate to ask who?”

  “It would, rather, but ... Well, I’m afraid it’s Jim.”

  “Jim? Oh, I see. I shall have to have words with that young man. If he’s been meddling -”

  “No, please don’t, it’s nothing like that. He’s never said or done anything the least bit out of line. It’s all my own fault.”

  “How? Surely not.”

  “It was at the end of the first session, when we were talking about the experimental programme. He said quite innocently that it couldn’t be set definitely in advance because we were groping in the dark, and although I knew perfectly well what he meant, I couldn’t help thinking of it literally.”

  “Ah. The instruments picked up some disturbance that you didn’t mention. Could that have been it?

  “Probably. It didn’t occur to me to say anything at the time – it would have been too embarrassing anyway.”

  Norstein was relieved but not altogether convinced, and did confront Jim with the situation. The lad protested that he had never had any idea of what triggered the particular response, and as that tallied with Sandra’s own account Norstein felt justified, with some misgivings, in leaving it there. However, it would clearly be wrong to proceed according to plan, and the sessions were suspended while intensive efforts were made in secret to develop ideas for reversing the effect.

  Every suggestion seemed to carry the risk of making bad matters worse, and Norstein (coming from a notoriously litigious society) started to have nightmares about a ruinously embarrassing lawsuit with Hardcastle claiming vast sums for alienation of affection or something of the sort. The tabloids would have a field day ...

  Jim was of course warned not to breathe a word about the problem outside the laboratory, or inside to anyone but Norstein or the remedial team. Secretly he was more than a little flattered by the idea of arousing such a storm of feminine lust, but sensible enough to keep a duly cautious guard on his tongue.

  Eventually it was Sandra herself who found the obvious answer to her problem. She got John to have a large print of the original Juliana picture framed and hung in their bedroom. Fixing it in her mind before retiring calmed her enough for her to resume tolerably satisfactory relations. Her relief was enormous, the effect was cumulative, and after a few weeks the situation was nearly enough back to normal. However, by common consent, it would have been wrong to continue the Serenethica investigations, and the project was quietly dropped with a note to the Journal of Experimental Psychology describing the gist of the observations in general terms and regretting that for practical reasons (by which might be understood budgetary constraints) it had not been feasible to take them to any further conclusion.

  There it might have rested but for a notebook left inadvertently on a desk top one night, a cleaner’s accidentally sweeping it on to the floor, and its falling open at a page where the phrase “Window on the soul” caught her eye and imagination. She read enough to get a garbled impression of what had been going on, and commented on it to her husband, who in turn mentioned it over a pint to his friend Stan Marshall who happened to work for the local weekly newspaper.

  Stan saw the possibility of a fairly lucrative scoop and put it to his editor Fred Wilkins, who had been getting increasingly anxious about a slowly but inexorably declining circulation. The opportunity seemed too good to miss, and he urged Stan to find out more if he could. Coming up against a blank wall convinced both of them that something really sensational had been going on at Serenethica, but Fred was wary of litigation and together with his managing director Bernard Higgins (who by a supposedly pure coincidence also happened to be his brother-in-law) pondered long and hard during several convivial evenings about how to make the most profitable use of what little real information they had with the minimum of legal risk.

  That information was merely that the boffins had been experimenting with some way to probe the workings of the mind but had hit a snag that put a sudden stop to the programme. The suggestion of sexual connections had obvious possibilities, but its vagueness made it liable to fall as flat as the news that the answer to life, the universe and everything was forty-two. Fred toyed with the idea of a banner headline on the lines of “WHAT STOPPED THE MIND-READERS?” just long enough to realise that if challenged he would have to admit having not the faintest idea.

  This he put to Stan when the reporter came to ask what was happening about his story. Stan took it as a wink or nod to an imaginative horse, returned to his original source, and suggested that if anything interesting should happen to fall out of a waste paper basket during her cleaning rounds, it might be worth her while to pass it on. Doris was doubtful, but her husband’s overtime had been cut and some extra cash would be more than welcome, while Stan assured her that whatever happened, nothing would be traceable to her. Privately he wondered afterwards how well he could honour that assurance, but it had slipped out unconsidered and he could hardly withdraw it.

  A few days later, Norstein returned to the laboratory one evening to pick up some documents he had forgotten. Almost about to leave with them, he was disturbed by the sound of a sneeze. It took him a moment or two
to realise that it must be the cleaner, and several more to notice that the source of the sneezes seemed surprisingly static, before he went on tiptoe to investigate. He found Doris oblivious to his approach as she smoothed, examined and then discarded several papers until he startled her with a “What the hell are you doing?”

  Caught in the act, Doris evidently decided that open confession was the best policy, or perhaps it just tumbled out in panic. Even she was unsure afterwards. Norstein pointed out that it was a serious disciplinary matter, and he would have to think what to do about it. Leaving her to stew over it for a little while might be salutary, but reflecting afterwards, he realised that however justifiable sacking the woman might seem to him, an employment tribunal could well think otherwise. In any case it would probably arouse unwelcome publicity, and letting her off with a formal warning would suffice. Even better, it might provide an opportunity for diverting unwanted interest.

  First, however, was the little matter of the lapse in document security. He called in Jim Harrison and delivered what for him was a fairly severe rocket, though Jim himself felt that he had got off rather lightly. Then Norstein explained what had resulted from that carelessness.

  “I’m sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “As sure as I can be about anything.”

  “A