The Third Gate Read Free Page A

. I finally revived her, fourteen minutes after all brain function had ceased.”
    “How?”
    Rush spread his hands. “It was a miracle. Or so it seemed at the time. It was the most amazing experience you can imagine. It was revelatory, life altering. To have pulled her back from the brink …” He fell briefly silent. “At that moment, the scales fell from my eyes. My life’s work was suddenly revealed. I left Rhode Island Hospital and my practice as an anesthesiologist, and I’ve been studying near-death experiences ever since.”
    The life-changing event , Logan thought. Aloud, he said, “Transmortality studies.”
    “Exactly. Documenting the various manifestations, trying to analyze and codify the phenomenon. You’d be surprised, Jeremy, how many people have undergone near-death experiences and—in particular—how many similarities they share. Once you’ve come back from the brink, you’re never quite the same. As you might guess, it’s something that stays with you—and with your loved ones.” He swept his hand around the office. “It was almost no effort to raise the money for the Center, all this. Plenty of people who have had near-death experiences are passionately interested in sharing those experiences and learning more about what they might mean.”
    “So what goes on at the Center, exactly?” Logan asked.
    “At heart, we’re a small community of doctors and researchers—most with relatives or friends who have ‘gone over.’ Survivors of NDEs are invited here to stay for a few weeks or months, to document precisely what happened to them and undergo various batteries of tests.”
    “Tests?” Logan asked.
    Rush nodded. “Although we’ve been operational only eighteen months now, a great deal of research has been conducted already—and a number of findings made.”
    “But, as you say, you’ve kept it all pretty hush-hush.”
    Rush smiled. “You can imagine what the good residents ofPevensey Point would say if they knew exactly who had taken over the old Coast Guard training base down the road, or why.”
    “Yes, I can.” They’d say you were tampering with fate , he thought. Messing with people brought back from the dead . Now he began to have some idea why his own expertise had been called for. “So exactly what’s been going on here that I can help you with?”
    A look of surprise briefly crossed Rush’s face. “Oh, you misunderstand. Nothing’s happening here .”
    Logan hesitated. “You’re right—I do misunderstand. If the problem you’re experiencing isn’t here, then why was I summoned?”
    “Sorry to be evasive, Jeremy. I can tell you more once you’re on board.”
    “But I am on board. That’s why I’m here.”
    In reply, Rush stood and walked to the far wall. “No.” And with a single tug, he opened the blinds, exposing a wall of windows. Beyond lay the airstrip Logan had noticed on his arrival. But from this vantage, he could see the runway wasn’t empty after all: it was occupied by a Learjet 85, sleek and gleaming in the noonday sun. Rush extended a finger toward it.
    “Once you’re on board that ,” he said.

2
    There were five people on the plane: a crew of two, Logan, Rush, and a CTS staffer bearing two laptops and several folders stuffed with what appeared to be lab results. Once the jet was airborne, Ethan Rush excused himself and walked to the rear to meet with the staffer. Logan fished the latest issue of Nature out of his duffel bag and browsed through it, looking for any new discoveries—or anomalies—that might interest him professionally. Then, feeling drowsy, he set the magazine aside and closed his eyes, intending to doze for five or ten minutes. But when he awoke it was dark outside and Logan felt the disoriented haze of a long, deep sleep. Rush looked over at him from the seat across the aisle.
    “Where are we?” Logan asked.
    “Coming into Heathrow.” He nodded at the staffer, still sitting in the rear. “Sorry about