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A.R.Yngve
PARRY'S PROTOCOL
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Chapter 25
WESTMOREHAM INSTITUTE
SEPTEMBER 16
"It's boring," Parry said. He pointed at the thick report Abram was holding up to the glass wall, so that Parry could read it. "Flip back to the front page again, and I'll show you what's wrong with it."
Abram did so, and held up the title page so that both of them could view the text:
IMAGES OF THE NEW FUTURE
By DR. ABRAM LEMERCIER
CONTAINS CLASSIFIED MATERIAL -- UNAUTHORIZED COPYING STRICTLY FORBIDDEN
PART 1: THE COLLAPSE OF THE OLD WORLD ORDER
1.1. The World According to Jalta
1.2. The Time Of Consolidation: 1945-1985
1.3. Gorbachev And After: 1985-1991
1.4. The End of History?
1.5. Notes
"You see?" Parry said. "Old stuff, even for a guy who's been locked away for as long as me. That phrase 'The End of History' is completely outdated. If the rest is going to be worth reading, it has to be one hell of a report."
Abram grunted.
"Well, that's why I contacted you. There aren't many paranoiacs with your IQ level -- and I've seen a few. Besides, this is just an introduction."
Parry backed and turned around on the spot, scratching himself restlessly.
"I can't get started before I get the things on my list. Where are they?"
Abram carefully put his report back into his briefcase, and smiled.
"They came with me today. I'll be away for a few days, and let you go through it, get your mind working again. As soon as I leave this room, the wardens will start carrying in your new stuff."
Parry looked as if he was going to say something, but held back. Abram frowned, flashing a little smile.
"You don't have to say 'thank you', Patrick. After all, it's me who's about to exploit your talents."
Parry showed his teeth, unsmiling: "I haven't forgotten that you're a shrink too, Lemercier. And shrinks just love feeling superior. That's why I hate'em, the smug faggots."
Abram, still frowning, cocked his head and gave Parry a questioning look: "I'm a psychologist, not a psychiatrist. And suppose," he said calmly, "that I was a 'faggot'. Would that bother you?"
Parry looked away, going tense, opening and closing his fists -- then suddenly spun around, and banged his fists on the glass wall with a manic grimace. When he saw Abram flinch away, he gave a smattering laugh.
"No, it won't bother me," he said scornfully, "as long as there's this wall between us! It protects me as well as you, Doc!"
Abram left the special room with no further words. The wardens started carrying in the books, magazines, and other things into Parry's room-half.