Free Albatross by J. M. Erickson Page A

my eyes. His posture seemed to alter. His voice dropped to a lower tone, but it was empty at the same time. His expression seemed measured, and he seemed to almost read my movements. But he seemed distracted at the same time. It was confusing to me. It was more than just his physical changes from his exercising. It was as if all of whatever was on his mind became very clear to him.”
    Andersen noted the irony of Coleridge’s description of Burns changing before his eyes. Andersen was seeing nearly the same metamorphosis when Coleridge thought back to his former life as David Caulfield. Andersen wondered how Coleridge managed living two separate lives in one body in two different time periods—the past and the present. It had to be draining.

    The lieutenant’s question was a good one. Not a simple one but a good one , David thought. David would never forget the moment he saw Burns change. David had seen such transitions before as someone would finally remember a lost memory or make a pivotal connection. All because burnt wires triggered his memories , he remembered. David had since reflected that Burns’s complete metamorphosis was the beginning of his own, one from honest therapist to a criminal. Easy to recall. Painful.
    “Alex? What’s wrong?” David asked.
    David could easily see Burns’s eyes burning hot though still and focused. Typically, Burns’s eyes were soft brown. Not now. Burns shifted from a searching, distracted mode to a suddenly focused presentation. Then Burns uttered an odd question: “Do you know what the ace of spades means in the intelligence community?” His casual question was out of sync with his body posture, which was now still and vigilant, listening for any possible noise as his eyes remained fixed. This was very startling to David. It almost seemed like a dissociative state. David knew in these cases, remaining calm was critical to keep the client grounded in reality.
    “No idea. I thought it was a suit in a deck—the highest card for that suit, actually,” David answered. What is going on here? David thought.
    “Using playing cards for identifying bad guys goes way back in military history. The ace of spades was the card for Saddam Hussein in Iraq, for example. There are still eight of the original fifty-five still at large. Did you know that?”
    David sat down as Burns remained standing near the door. David thought that if he sat down, maybe Alex would as well, or at the very least, David would appear less of a threat if he was sitting while Alex remained standing. “What does this mean? Is this the thing you have been trying to remember? Is it coming back?”
    Burns remained silent, recounting something.
    “You were a soldier? A field agent?” David offered. David attempted to appear relaxed as he sat back in his chair. David’s presentation of relaxation was not very convincing, though he was sure Burns’s mind was not in the same room with him.
    “No. More than that. Logistics primarily. I also had communication experience but to a lesser degree. I had more field experience than the usual logistical and tactical specialist, but information, recon, and data collection was my specialization.” Burns was far away at this point, but not as far as he had been a moment ago. Burns seemed to be returning as he moved two steps toward the back of his own chair and placed his hand on it for support. Is Burns going to pass out? David wondered. Is there a secondary issue from the brain trauma that might be affecting his balance or worse?
    “I did many bad things, Dr. Caulfield. It is disheartening to remember all these things I did,” Burns trailed off.
    Guilt. That’s what it was. Burns was remembering very difficult things about himself that had been locked up tightly in his brain, David surmised. Knowledge could cause pain.
    Then suddenly, Burns was in the here and now and offered a partial answer: “I worked with an extraction team. And my ride was hit, and we crashed. I