Strange Highways

way."
     "Shot them."
     "We could have died there."
     "Shot them."
     "Yeah."
     Fauvel gave him a rest. Half a minute. Then: "Later, when the tunnel had been cleared, searched, the weapons cache destroyed, then you ran into the ambush that earned you the Medal of Honor."
     "Yes. That was above ground."
     Fauvel said, "You crawled across the field of fire for nearly two hundred yards and brought back a wounded sergeant named Coombs."
"Samuel Coombs."
     "You received two minor but painful wounds in the thigh and calf of your right leg, but you didn't stop crawling until you had reached shelter. Then you secured Coombs behind a stand of scrub, and having reached a point on the enemy's flank by means of your heroic crossing of the open field - what happened?"
     "I killed some of the bastards."
     "Enemy soldiers."
     "Yeah."
     "How many?"
     "Eighteen."
     "Eighteen Vietcong soldiers?"
     "Yeah."
     "So you not only saved Sergeant Coombs's life but contributed substantially to the well-being of your entire unit." He had only slightly paraphrased the wording on the scroll that Chase had received in the mail from the president himself.
     Chase said nothing.
     "You see where this heroism came from, Ben?"
     "We've talked about it before."
     "So you know the answer."
     "It came from guilt."
     "That's right."
     "Because I wanted to die. Subconsciously wanted to be killed, so I rushed onto the field of fire, hoping to be shot down."
     "Do you believe that analysis, or do you think maybe it's just something I made up to degrade your medal?"
     Chase said, "I believe it. I never wanted the medal in the first place."
     "Now," Fauvel said, unsteepling his fingers, "let's extend that analysis just a bit. Though you hoped to be shot and killed in that ambush, although you took absurd risks to ensure your death, you lived. And became a national hero."
     "Life's funny, huh?"
     "When you learned Lieutenant Zacharia had submitted your name for consideration for the Medal of Honor, you suffered a nervous breakdown that hospitalized you and eventually led to your honorable discharge."
     "I was just burnt out."
     "No, the breakdown was an attempt to punish yourself, once you'd failed to get yourself killed. Punish yourself and escape from your guilt. But the breakdown failed too, because you pulled out of it. Well regarded, honorably discharged, much too strong not to recover psychologically, you still had to carry your burden of guilt."
     Chase was silent again.
     Fauvel continued: "Perhaps when you chanced upon that scene in the park on Kanackaway, you recognized another opportunity to punish yourself. You must have realized that there was a strong possibility you'd be hurt or killed, and you must have subconsciously anticipated your death agreeably enough."
     "You're wrong," Chase said.
     Fauvel was silent.
     "You're wrong," Chase repeated.
     "Probably not," Fauvel said with a hint of impatience, and he used a direct stare to try to make Chase uncomfortable.
     "It wasn't like that at all. I had thirty pounds on him, and I knew what I was doing. He was an amateur. He had no hope of really hurting me."
     Fauvel said nothing.
     Finally Chase said, "Sorry."
     Fauvel smiled. "Well, you aren't a psychiatrist, so we can't expect you to see into it so clearly. You aren't detached from it like I am." He cleared his throat, looked back at the blue terrier. "Now that we've come this far - why did you solicit this extra session, Ben?"
     Once he began, Chase found the telling easy. In ten minutes he had related the events of the previous day and repeated, almost word for word, the conversations that he'd had with Judge.
     When Chase finished, Fauvel asked, "So. What do you want from me, then?"
     "I want to know how to handle it, some advice."
     "I don't advise. I guide and interpret."
     "Some guidance then. When Judge calls, it's more than just the threats that upset me. It's - this feeling I have of being detached, separated from everything."
     "Another breakdown?"
     "I feel the edge," Chase said.
     Fauvel said, "Ignore him."
     "Judge?"
     "Ignore