The doctor sighed. "Wish I knew, Terry. I've never seen anything like it in over twenty years of medical practice. Not even the specialists seem to know. And we have several good ones here, who donate their services to the hospital—men with experience in unusual cases."
"But don't you have any idea at all about how he got this way?" Bryan persisted. "Isn't there any possibility that he has some sort of rare brain disease?"
"We gave him a careful examination, Terry," the doctor returned. "We could find no evidence of disease—no evidence of concussion or injury, either. Except, maybe, for one thing."
"What's that?" Bryan asked quickly.
"When he was first brought in, we found a sort of reddish mark near his left shoulder. As though something hot had touched him. The skin wasn't broken or burned, however." The doctor shrugged. "It's gone now. I doubt if anything so light and temporary could have been important, anyway."
"This might be a case for the psychiatrists," Bryan suggested slowly. "Maybe this fellow had a terrific shock of some kind—a psychic trauma, or whatever they call it."
"That's quite possible. But we've done the best we could at this end." The doctor's voice dropped. "I don't think there's going to be time for anything else, Terry."
"You mean that he—"
The doctor nodded. "He's dying. I've seen the signs. It's as though he's lost all will to live."