“They told me when I was down there.” “Not in words. In some other way. But I understood.”
The doctor listened and took notes. “And what do they want now?” he finally asked. “They need release. They need someone to let them go.”
“They need a blessing to leave, but there’s no one to give it. Their priest drowned with them. The church was consecrated, the service was begun, but no one was left to finish it.”
“So they wait. And they’ll keep waiting as long as the church stands.” Mullen fell silent again, leaned his head back against the wall, and closed his eyes. The doctor quietly left the room and reported everything to the consultant.
The consultant listened without comment, then gave an order. “He needs to be transferred to a secure medical facility. Continuous observation.”
“And the diagnosis?” “Psychosis brought on by extreme underwater working conditions.” “But he’s speaking coherently.”
“Coherently, yes. But about impossible things. Write it up that way.”
Mullen was transferred to a secure psychiatric unit attached to the institute on January 7. Vance and Carter learned about it only just before they were due to leave. They asked for a brief visit, and it was allowed.
They got ten minutes. Mullen sat in a small room by a barred window. There was only a bed, a nightstand, and a chair.
He wore hospital pajamas. His face was calm, but his eyes were empty. “How are you doing?” Vance asked quietly.
Mullen looked at him for a long moment. Then he gave a faint smile. “I still hear them, Chief. I still hear them.”
“What exactly do you hear?” “The singing. They never stop.”
“Their service goes on day and night without a break. They’re waiting.” “Waiting for who?”
“For the one who will finish it. The one who will finally tell them, ‘You can go now.’”
Carter stepped closer to the bed. “Steve, this is all in your head. You understand that, right? There’s no singing here.”
“You just can’t let it go.” Mullen cut him off. “No, Eli. I didn’t just remember it.”
“I hear it right now. And you would too if you listened hard enough. If you really wanted to.”
“I don’t want to hear it.” “Smart choice. Better not. Once you hear it, you won’t forget it.”
Vance put a hand on Mullen’s shoulder. “Hang in there, Steve. The doctors here will help you.” Mullen only shook his head.
“They can’t help me, because this isn’t an illness. It’s a connection. For some reason, they chose me.”
“I don’t know why, but they chose me. And now I hear it. And I’ll hear it until the end.”
“Whose end?” Vance asked quietly. “Theirs or yours?” Their time was up.
There was a knock at the door. Vance and Carter stepped into the hallway in silence. There Carter said, “He’s lost his mind.”
“Maybe,” Vance said softly. “Or maybe we have.” They were released on January 9. They were given paperwork showing they had completed classified government work.
They were warned again to keep silent. They were handed train tickets and escorted to the station. Just before departure, the gray-haired consultant spoke privately with Vance.
The conversation was brief. “Forget it,” he said. “That’s the best thing you can do for yourself and for the country.”
“What will happen to the site?” “It will remain under observation. Maybe someday we’ll understand it. Not now.”…
