Read Time and the Riddle: Thirty-One Zen Stories for Free Online

twenty-three years. Have you ever had a case like mine before, Doctor?”
    â€œIn a non-schizophrenic? No.”
    â€œThen does it make medical history of sorts?”
    â€œPerhaps. I would have to know more about it.”
    â€œI admire your scientific detachment.”
    â€œNot so scientific that I am without very ordinary curiosity. Who are you, sir?”
    â€œBefore I answer that, let me pose a question, Doctor. Has it never occurred to you that in the history and practice of what we call mankind, there is a certain lack of logic?”
    â€œIt has occurred to me.”
    â€œWhat do you make of it?”
    â€œI am a psychiatrist, General. I deal with psychosis and neurosis, neither of which is logical. Understandable, yes. Logical, no.”
    â€œYou miss the point.”
    â€œDo I?” Blausman said patiently. “Then what is the point?”
    â€œThe point is fantastic.”
    â€œThere is very little that astonishes me.”
    â€œGood. Then allow me to put it to you this way. The earth is a beautiful, rich, and splendid planet. It has all things that man desires, but none of these things is limitless, not the air, not the water, not even the fertility of the land. Let us postulate another planet very similar to earth—but used up, Doctor, used up. There are men on this planet as there are men here, but somewhat more advanced technologically. Like many men, they are selfish and self-seeking, and they want the earth. But they want the earth without its human population. They need the earth for their own purposes. I see you doubt me.”
    â€œThe notion is certainly ingenious.”
    â€œAnd from that you conclude that madmen are ingenious. Let me go on with my premise, and since you have assured me that I am not schizophrenic, you can ponder over the precise quality of my madness.”
    â€œBy all means,” Blausman agreed.
    â€œThey could attack the earth, but that would mean grave losses and even the possibility of defeat—no matter how small that possibility is. So some time ago, they hit upon another plan. They would train men for a particular profession, train them very well indeed, and then they would bring these men to earth, put them into positions of great power, and then induce a conditioned amnesia. Thus, these men would know what they had to do, what they were trained to do, yet be without the knowledge of why they do what they must do.”
    â€œAbsolutely fascinating,” Blausman said. “And in your case, the amnesia broke.”
    â€œI think it is a limited thing in every case. A time comes when we remember, but more clearly than I remembered. We know our profession, and in time we remember why we have been trained to this profession.”
    â€œAnd your profession?” Blausman asked.
    â€œOf course, we are exterminators. I thought you understood that from the dream. So, Doctor, you would say I am cured, would you not?”
    â€œAh—there you have me,” Blausman smiled.
    â€œYou don’t believe me? You really don’t believe me?”
    â€œI don’t know. What are your intentions, General? Are you going to kill me?”
    â€œWhy on earth should I kill you?”
    â€œYou defined your profession.”
    â€œOne small, overweight New York psychiatrist? Come, come, Dr. Blausman—you have your own delusions of grandeur. I am an exterminator, not a murderer.”
    â€œBut since you have told me what you are—”
    Now it was the General’s turn to smile. “My dear Dr. Blausman, what will you do? Will you take my story to the mayor, the governor, the President—the FBI, the press? How long would you maintain your professional status? Would you tell a story about little green men, about flying saucers? No, there is no need to kill you, Doctor. How inconvenient, how embarrassing that would be!” He rose to leave.
    â€œThis does not negate your bill,” Blausman said. He