Death Message

Chapter Five

Brad's pursuit to unlock the secrets of the vessel began to border on obsession. As each day passed, he spent more and more time in his makeshift lab at Morningside.

Three weeks after giving the sketches of the symbols to Bankman, the professor called one evening telling Maggie, rather apologetically, that Professor Glick, after an exhaustive search, had no luck in determining the origins of the odd markings. This only served to fuel the intensity of Brad's challenge to crack the combination. As time wore on, faculty at the university began to talk, and rumors began to abound that Brad and Maggie's marriage was on the rocks. His department head was receiving complaints from students that Brad was ill-prepared for class, frequently arriving late, and dismissing classes early.

During the fourth week, he would often arrive at MC before four a.m. and depart after midnight. At the end of the fifth week, and unbeknownst to Maggie, Brad requested and was granted, a four-week leave of absence. The Dean, laying out stern conditions for the resumption of his responsibilities upon his return, reluctantly gave him permission to use the college's facilities and continue whatever research work he was doing. At the beginning of the sixth week, Brad moved a cot into the lab. Over the next two weeks, he spent twelve out of fourteen days without going home, often without calling Maggie to let her know. During one stretch, Maggie hadn't seen Brad for seven straight days, and while she was supportive, his behavior was becoming more and more peculiar. This was not the same person she'd married. Feeling that she may be losing her husband, Maggie decided to confront the situation. After her last class one afternoon, she went to Brad's lab and found him hunched over a keyboard attached to his experimental hybrid system. He didn't hear her enter the small room, nor close the door. She was stunned at the chaos before her. Trash cans were overflowing, junk food wrappers, empty water bottles, hundreds of discarded crunched-up paper balls, broken pencils, and computer printouts were strewn about the room. On one of the printers was a water bottle, the top was cut off and the inside appeared to be filled with urine. Looking at Brad from the side, she was shocked at how much weight he'd lost.

"Brad," Maggie said in a muted tone. He didn't answer but just continued typing. "Brad!" Maggie shouted.

Startled by the interruption of his hypnotic-like concentration, Brad swiveled in his chair and looked up at Maggie. She was horrified. His face was grossly gaunt, his hair was matted, his eyes were bloodshot, his soiled clothing looked two sizes too large, and a scraggly beard of five to six days of growth made him all but unrecognizable. Maggie began to cry. Her strength rapidly bled from the emotional wound so deeply inflicted at the mere sight of his appearance. Her legs became rubbery, and she was forced to sit on the very spot where she'd been standing. Maggie's head arched forward, her hands rose to cover her face, and her shoulders began convulsing in harmony with each quaking sob. Brad just sat in the chair seemingly disconnected from the person disintegrating in front of him. Minutes passed while these two disconnected creatures each puzzled by the spectacle before them.

Brad, finally grasping the insanity of his actions, gained a fragile command of his senses. Turning his head slowly, he gazed upon the mayhem encircling him. At last, stopping his painful inspection, he gawked at the disheveled stranger peering back at him from the vanity mirror on the wall to the right of his desk.

"Oh God, Maggie!" Brad bounded out of the chair and knelt by his wife's side. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He wrapped his arms around her trembling frame and rocked her back and forth. "I'm so sorry," he repeated. "Can you forgive me? God, what have I done? Please, Maggie, baby, please. It'll be all right. Please, forgive me." Brad held Maggie tightly continuing to cradle her in his arms. Neither spoke.