Catherine asked the group were she and Stuart could go to talk and get a change of scenery. Under recommendation from the professor they headed for the university library accompanied by Terry. The library was housed in one of the campus’s oldest buildings, just a five-minute walk from the refectory. On arrival, they were greeted by an elderly man introducing himself as the head caretaker. The man held a large bunch of keys in his hand but the doors to the library were already open. He gestured for them to enter but they both stopped in the doorway to marvel at the scene before them. It was like looking into a grand banquet hall, but instead of food the tables were set for a feast of literature. Forming a row down the centre of the hall, twenty tables, each big enough to seat twelve readers, stretched out like a platform in front of them. The tables were flanked by ornate wooden archways on either side, providing caverns of mahogany for the readers requiring privacy. Between each archway was a large, wooden door. The room was dimly lit from lighting hanging from the wooden panelled ceiling. Each place at the tables had a lamp to provide an individual light source for each reader. The only natural light in the room came from a large, round, stained-glass window cut into the back wall bearing the crest of the College. “This place is amazing,” Catherine said, “but where are all the books?”
“Ah well, what you looking at now is the reading room,” the old man offered. He entered, beckoning to them to follow. Leading them through one of the archways he stopped in front of a large wooden door adorned with gold, stencilled roman numerals and letters. He pointed to the gold figures. “These figures reference the locations of the books according to the library catalogue.” The original catalogue was a card index but these days it’s all on computers.” He pulled a phone from his pocket. “I’ve got the whole thing on an app on here.” He waved the phone in front of them before putting it back in his pocket. “Amazing really,” he added.
He pushed open the door, revealing an alleyway of shelves housing row after row of books of every shape, colour and size. Catherine noticed the familiar smell she had been expecting when they first entered. The musty, sweet smell that comes with the passing of time and epitomises historical literature. The caretaker informed them there were eleven book rooms like this one. Ten were available to anyone with access to the library, but the eleventh was by special invite only and contained the university’s rarest collections. It was Terry who spoke next.
“The Rare Book Room contains originals of the Gutenberg Bible, works of Shakespeare, four copies of the Magna Carta and a manuscript of The Song of Roland, an epic French poem which is the oldest surviving work of French literature.”
The others stared at him in awe, surprised by his knowledgeable outburst, but they laughed when he pointed to a brass plaque on the wall he had just read from verbatim. Catherine took the lightening of the mood as an opportunity to thank the caretaker for his hospitality and to inform him they did not want to take any more of his time. She asked him where she and Stuart could talk privately. He suggested they use any one of the reading arches. They chose the nearest one to them and made themselves comfortable on seats surrounded by beautifully carved woodwork. Terry and the caretaker headed to the old man’s office for a coffee.
The noise of the heavy wooden doors closing announced their departure. Sat in silence Catherine observed Stuart. He had been quiet throughout the tour and she guessed the prospect of what faced him weighed heavily on his mind.
“Are you ok Stuart?” she asked, sounding concerned. “Yeh, sorry,” he replied “I’ve got a thousand things whizzing around in my head.” He gazed at the ornate wooden arch trying to find the words to convey his thoughts. “The thing that worries me the most,” he revealed turning to look her in the eye, “is what if everyone thinks I’m dead?” How the hell do I deal with that? How will they deal with that?” She leaned toward him over the table and spoke in hushed tones. “As a psychiatrist I should tell you to tell the truth. But no psychiatrist has ever had to advise on something like this before. So I’ll give you advice as a friend. And knowing what that truth is, I advise you lie your socks off, plead total ignorance, like you have no idea what has happened to you.”
She leaned back into her seat having no idea how to properly advise him. This was completely unknown territory and nothing she had ever dealt with could be used to understand what the right counsel would be. She was struggling with what to say to him next but Stuart spoke changing the subject completely.
“Do you believe in God Catherine?”
The question caught her off guard somewhat, but it was a question she had considered many times throughout her life and one that had often conjured up different ideas. The truth was she believed in something, but not a god in the religious sense. “I believe there must be more to our existence than just chance Stuart. I struggle with the notion that life just began with the coming together of the right ingredients at the right time on one planet out of a billion, billion.”
“That doesn’t really answer the question though does it?” he shrugged. “That is just saying that you don’t necessarily believe that life sprang out of the primordial oceans. I suppose what I’m really asking is do you believe there is a purpose to life? Is there somebody or something watching over us? Are we on a predetermined path or are we wandering aimlessly?”
It was Catherine’s turn to shrug. “I can’t answer that question any more than anybody else on the planet Stuart. I can have an opinion and I can take comfort in my own interpretation of things but I can’t tell you what to believe.”
“No of course you can’t and I don’t expect you to,” he smiled.
“It’s just rhetoric, isn’t it? Just something we nonbelievers throw out there from time to time because we can’t take that leap of blind faith that our religious friends can.” He now leaned over the table toward her. “But I think I have it all worked out. I think our need for a God stems from our fear of death and our will to survive beyond the grave. We’re brought into this world with someone caring for us and guiding us through to adulthood. Along the way if they do a good job they instil in us the virtues of life and warn us against the sins of life. Law and society ensue from this giving us the tools to survive through our lifetime to hopefully pass on our virtues to little copies of ourselves. But what is the point of this if it all ends abruptly with our deaths? Well that’s what I think the answer is Catherine. There is no point. We don’t have a say in it. We’re just here to reproduce and life is all about getting us to a point where we’re able to do that. Society, law, virtues and God are all just mechanisms to control the masses. We embrace them because they give us the protection and the hope to carry on. If we didn’t have them chaos would rule and the human race would fail.”
Catherine was somewhat taken aback by this pragmatic outpour. Clearly Stuart was grappling with the meaning of life. Not so surprising considering what had happened to him of late and what he was facing, but a worry none the less. This was a very different Stuart to the one she had grown to know and understand. “That’s all very well put Stuart,” She said, “but what about love, what about the feelings that you have for Lauren and your unborn child?”
“Love is a necessity, just as lust is,” Stuart said, rather coldly. “Two instincts we modern humans have turned into our strongest emotions,” he continued. “Love gives us the desire to bond with a partner long enough to care for our children to an age when they can fend for themselves. Lust gives us the will to want to reproduce in the first place. These instincts are so deeply ingrained in our psyche that even with our advanced brains they still govern us. We are now, for the most part, intelligent enough to decide who we want to love or have sex with. We can even control whether or not that sex results in offspring, but we can’t just ignore those instincts. From the simplest person to the most powerful kings, queens and presidents, our lives are still wholly governed by those two emotions. Of course, some of us are lucky enough to find a partner that can satisfy both those urges for life.”
Catherine now felt as if the outburst was somehow aimed at her. Possibly his way of trying to extinguish any remaining feelings between them. She didn’t want to continue this conversation but was unsure how to end it. She tried to remain professional but her feelings were hurt. “Again, interestingly, if not controversially, put. I don’t see where you’re going with this though Stuart?”
“I’m going home with it, Catherine. I am giving in to my instincts. Despite all that I have learned and seen these past weeks it doesn’t change my fundamental purpose in life. I have to get back to look after Lauren and the baby that we are about to have. For me she’s the one. Despite the risks and uncertainties about how the professor’s machine will work, it is the only opportunity that I have.”
For me she’s the one…
Catherine had planned to try to help Stuart come to an informed decision about his destiny. He was no longer her patient and was making it clear that he would never be her lover. She had nothing further to offer him other than friendship. “That is good to hear Stuart,” she offered with sincerity. “With everything that has gone on I was concerned you were making a decision without fully considering the implications. But to hear you express yourself so resolutely I have no doubt you are ready. Let’s hope the professor’s team are ready.”
“Thanks for all your help Catherine. I wouldn’t have gotten through this without you. What do you think you’ll do when it’s all over?”
“Well, I’m not sure it will ever be over Stuart. Who knows where this is going? If the technology is developed for use in the way the professor sees it there will be a lot of confused people needing counselling in the coming years. And, there is your brother David, or rather your counterpart’s brother. When you leave from here there is a good chance no one will replace you, so he will be left without the brother he has known all of his life. With that on top of everything else he has been through, I think he will be in need of some help.”
“Shit, I hadn’t considered that.” Stuart said. “Hopefully I’ll get the chance to talk to him before I leave.”
With that, Stuart suggested they go and find Terry to ask him if there had been any update on David’s repatriation. As they walked out of the library Stuart stole a glance at Catherine to see if he could gauge her reaction to his outpour. He hated talking to her the way he had. But revealing his true feelings toward her now would only make things more difficult for both of them.