"So, while he did not complete his own dissertation,"he finished, "he may provide significant material forsomeone else's."

Render shook his head.

"Quite a story," he said softly .-"but I have nothing thatdramatic to contend with. I've found an exceedingly stable individual—a psychiatrist, in fact—one who's alreadyspent time in ordinary analysis. She wants to go intoneuroparticipation—but the fear of a sight-trauma waswhat was keeping her out. I've been gradually exposingher to a full range of visual phenomena. When I've finished she should be completely accommodated to sight, sothat she can give her full attention to therapy and not beblinded by vision, so to speak. We've already had foulsessions."

"And?"

"... And it's working fine."

"You are certain about it?"

"Yes, as certain as anyone can be in these matters."

"Mm-hm," said Bartelmetz. "Tell me, do you find herexcessively strong-willed? By that I mean, say, perhapsan obsessive-compulsive pattern concerning anything towhich she's been introduced so far?"

"No.""Has she ever succeeded in taking over control of thefantasy?"

"No!"

"You lie," he said simply.

Render found a cigarette. After lighting it, he smiled.

"Old father, old artificer," he conceded, "age has notwithered your perceptiveness. I may trick me, but neveryou.—Yes, as a matter of fact, she is very difficult to keepunder control. She is not satisfied just to see. She wantsto Shape things for herself already. It's quite understandable both to her and to me—but conscious apprehension and emotional acceptance never do seem to gettogether on things. She has become dominant on severaloccasions, but I've succeeded in resuming control almostimmediately. After all. I urn master of the bank."

"Hm," mused Bartelmetz. "Are you familiar with aBuddhist text- -Shankara's Catechism?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Then 1 lecture you on it now. It posits—obviously notfor theraputic purposes—a true ego and a false ego. Thetrue ego is that part of man which is immortal and shallproceed on to nirvana: the soul, if you like. Very good.Well. the false ego, on the other hand, is the normalmind, bound round with the illusions—the consciousnessof you and me and everyone we have ever known professionally. Good?—Good. Now, the stuff this false ego ismade up of they call skandhas. These include the feelings,the perceptions, the aptitudes, consciousness itself, andeven the physical form. Very unscientific. Yes. Now theyare not the same thing as neuroses, or one of MisterIbsens life-lies, or an hallucination—no, even though theyare all wrong, being parts of a false thing to begin with.Each uf the five skandhas is a part of the eccentricity thatwe call identity—then on lop come the neuroses and allthe other messes which follow after and keep us in business. Okay?—Okay. I give you this lecture because Ineed a dramatic term for what 1 will say, because 1 wishto say something dramatic. View the skandhas as lying atthe bottom of the pond; the neuroses, they are ripples onthe top of the water; the 'true ego,' if there is one, is burieddeep beneath the sand at the bottom. So. I'he ripples fillup the-the—zwischenwelt—between the object and thesubject. The skaodhas are a pan of the subject, basic,unique, the stuff of his being.—So far, you are with me?"

"With m;iny reservations."

"Good. Now I have defined my term somewhat, I willuse it. You are fooling around with skandhas. not simpleneuroses. You are attempting to adjust this woman's overall conception of herself and of the world. You are usingthe ONT&R to do it. It is the same thing as fooling witha psychotic or an ape. All may seem to go well. but—atany moment, it is possible you may do something, showher some sight, or some way of seeing which will breakin upon her selfhood, break a skandha—and pouf!—itwill he like breaking through the bottom of the pond. Awhirlpool will result, pulling you—where? I do not wantyou for a patient, young man, young artificer, so I counsel you not to proceed with this experiment. The ONT&Rshould not be used in such a manner."

Render flipped his cigarette into the fire and countedon his fingers:

"One," he said, "you are making a mystical mountainout of a pebble. All I am doing is adjusting her consciousness to accept an additional area of perception. Much ofit is simple transference work from the other senses—Two, her emotions were quite intense initially because itdid involve a trauma—but we've passed that stage already. Now it is only a novelty 1o her. Soon it will be acommonplace—Three. Eileen is a psychiatrist herself; sheis educated in these matters and deeply aware of thedelicate nature of what we are doing- - Four. her sense ofidentity and her desires, or her skandhas, or whatever youwant to call them, are as firm as the Rock of Gibraltar.Do you realize the intense application required for a blindperson to obtain the education she has obtained? It tooka will of ten-point steel and the emotional control of anascetic as well—"

"—And if something that strong should break, in atimeless moment of anxiety." smiled Barlelmetz sadly,"may the shades of Sigmund Freud and Karl Jung walkby your side in the valley of darkness.

"—And five," he added suddenly, staring into Render's eyes. "Five," he ticked it off on one finger. "Is shepretty?"

Render looked back into the fire.

"Very clever," sighed Bartelmetz. "I cannot tellwhether you are blushing or not, with the rosy glow ofthe flames upon your face. I fear that you are, though,which would mean that you are aware that you yourself could be the source of the inciting stimulus. I shallburn a candle tonight before a portrait of Adier and praythat he give you the strength to compete successfully inyour duel with your patient."

Render looked at Jill, who was still sleeping. Hereached out and brushed a lock of her hair back intoplace.

"Still," said Bartelmetz, "if you do proceed and allgoes well, I shall look forward with great interest tothe reading of your work. Did I ever tell you that I havetreated several Buddhists and never found a 'true ego'?"

Both men laughed.

Like me but not like me, that one on a leash, smellingof fear, small, gray and unseeing. Rrowl and he'llchoke on his collar. His head is empty as the oven till.She pushes the button and it makes dinner. Make talkand they never understand, but they are like me. Oneday I will kill one—why? ... Turn here.

'Three steps. Up. Glass doors. Handle to right."

Why? Ahead, drop-shaft. Gardens under, down. Smellsnice, there. Grass, wet dirt, trees and clean air. I see.Birds are recorded though. I see all. I.

"Dropshaft. Four steps."

Down Yes. Want to make loud noises in throat, feelsilly. Clean, smooth, many of trees. God ... She likessitting on bench chewing leaves smelling smooth air.Can't see them like me. Maybe now, some ... ? No.

Can't Bad Sigmund me on grass, trees, here. Musthold it. Pity. Best place .,.

"Watch for steps."

Ahead. To right, to left, to right, to left, trees andgrass now. Sigmund sees. Walking ... Doctor with machine gives her his eyes. Rrowl and he will not choke.No fearsmell.

Dig deep hole in ground, bury eyes. God is blind.Sigmund to see. Her eyes now filled, and he is afraid ofteeth. Will make her to see and take her high up in thesky to see, away. Leave me here, leave Sigmund withnone to see, alone- I will dig a deep hole in the ground ...

It was after ten in the morning when Jill awoke. Shedid not have to turn her head to know that Render wasalready gone. He never slept late. She rubbed her eyes,stretched, turned onto her side and raised herself on herelbow. She squinted at the clock on the bedside table,simultaneously reaching for a cigarette and her lighter.

As she inhaled, she realized there was no ashtray.Doubtless Render had moved it to the dresser becausehe did not approve of smoking in bed. With a sigh thatended in a snort she slid out of the bed and drew on herwrap before the ash grew too long.