by R Arundel
Aly asks, “What now?”
Matthew says, “We will take it one day at a time. I don’t want to be too negative. If I was sure it was dead, I’d take him back to the operating room and remove the dead tissue and dress the wound. You’ll look pretty much as you do now.”
Aly says, “It seems we just keep getting bad news.”
“I’m sorry for this, but we may need to consider a partial face transplant.”
Ryan says, “Partial transplant, you mentioned that before.”
Matthew says, “I think that is the best option if this doesn’t work. Let’s keep our fingers crossed. However, if the flap fails, the partial trans will give us the result we all want.”
“Well, I just hope this works. Come on, kids, let’s give dad some rest. Bye, Ryan.” Aly and the kids quickly leave and the room is silent.
Matthew says, “Aly took it pretty hard.”
Ryan says, “She’s having a tough time.”
“This can be difficult on a family. Remember to cut her some slack. How are you hanging in?”
“I’m fine. Roll with the punches, you know me, Doc MacAulay.”
“That’s great. It’s hard for anyone to deal with major changes like this.”
“I seem to be doing just fine.”
“Good. If you ever want to talk to anyone, let me know. We have people who are very experienced in helping you deal with this kind of thing. People you can talk to. Keep it in mind.”
***
Matthew likes his mother’s brownstone. She bought it almost twenty years ago. With current real estate prices, she would be a very wealthy woman if she ever sold. He always remembers how difficult it was to pay that mortgage in the early days. Together they made it; it is a source of satisfaction.
Caroline says, “Tom’s death’s been keeping you pretty busy these last few days.”
They sit in the kitchen.
Matthew says, “It’s just so sad.”
Caroline says, “He was a good man. In the old days, we were all so close. He really took you under his wing. I’m sure that’s why you ended up doing transplants.”
“He was a giant and a truly decent man.”
“He was a decent human being. He lived life well. He was a little heavy, and he liked his cigars. I guess a heart attack is as good a way as any to go. Quick.”
“I’m going to Palo Alto.”
“Give my love to Patricia.”
***
The meeting spot at the lake is quiet. At this time of the year, the area is deserted. The lake is tranquil. The trees hang low around the water, setting the mood. He thinks that is why the Secretary of Defense liked to meet here. It sets the mood. Quentin Taylor did like a sense of the dramatic. A few seconds after Jason arrives, Quentin pulls up.
“What does Tom’s death mean, practically speaking?” says Jason.
“Nothing, the lab in New York is fine. I spoke to Matthew. His transplant research is proceeding on schedule, and the lab in Houston is doing good work. They were all independent.”
“What do you think?”
Quentin waits to answer. “I was convinced it was a heart attack, but I got a visit from Matthew. He didn’t say anything, but I’m sure he was fishing for something. He was hiding something. I could feel it.”
“You think golden boy is involved?” says Jason.
“Not sure, but he was trying to see if I could tell him something. What, I have no idea.”
“So who takes over Palo Alto?”
“We’ll promote Kofi.”
“Kofi? Is he an American?” says Jason.
“Kofi Adebayo, born in Bakersfield, California. As American as apple pie my friend. Parents from Nigeria.”
“He’s African-American?”
Quentin says, “Shouldn’t the American come first?”
“I’m sure he’ll do just fine. Where’d he go to med school?”
“One of those fancy Ivy League places. He’s a double doctor, MD, PhD, doctor of medicine, doctorate in computer science. He stayed on faculty for a while, then left to do a start-up. Cashed in big time. Then started another and cashed in again. He owns an island in the Caribbean.”
“An island?” says Jason.
“Serial entrepreneur. He’s crazy rich. He’s on that top four hundred list.” Quentin continues, “A real brain, computer guy.”
“Most of the transplant program is computer-driven now; the surgeons are really glorified technicians,” says Jason.
“Kofi can take over from Tom. He worked with him closely. We have an alternate at each place for just this type of event.”
“Does he know we’re involved?”
“Yes. We’ve already done Kofi’s background check; we’ll put him in as new team leader. When you get back, send me your report immediately, then I’ll schedule a meeting with the president. He’ll want to know.”
Jason says, “Tom was not really living up to his billing. He wasn’t that far in developing the facial transplants. New York was showing more promise.”
Quentin swallows.
Jason continues, “I told you Tom was hyped up. He was good thirty years ago, maybe even great, but he was living on his reputation. The last reports I got from him recently were weak. The other centers were pulling away from him.”
“I personally reviewed his file. He was a very creative scientist and surgeon throughout his entire career. I appointed him.”
“People peak in their creativity in their twenties or thirties. After that, forget it.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“Our boy Tom was way over the hill. He should have never been given the lead in Palo Alto.”
Quentin replies, “I heard that’s not true. Experts say that creativity occurs at any age.”
“Believe what you have to, mate,” says Jason.
Quentin smiles and appears relaxed. “Mate? Last time I checked, I’m the Secretary of Defense of the United States of America. You’ll address me as such.”
“My apology, Mr. Secretary.”
“Next time you speak to me like that again, you’ll be sitting at a desk in the dirtiest rat hole office I can put you, far away from the bright lights of New York and that high society girl of yours.”
“Yes sir, Mr. Secretary.”
“Let me know how you get on in Palo Alto.” Quentin jumps into his car and speeds off.
Chapter Seven
Matthew sips his tea in an oversized white cup. “Patricia, the tea is very good.”
“It’s mint, your favorite.”
“It’s been too long since I last visited.”
Patricia, “You didn’t come out to Palo Alto much after we got married.”
Matthew sips the tea. “I should have come out here more. Sitting here, I now feel the loss.”
“He was very fond of you.”
“I still feel him with me . . . When I was sixteen, I got brought home by the police. It was two a.m. Mom was frantic. She called Tom. You know what? He came right over. He got up at that hour to come and speak to me. I don’t even remember what he said to me, but I remember thinking, who would get up in the middle of the night to do this? He’s not my father. I thought, you know what, I’m never going to make him ever have to wake up like this ever again.”
“Tom was a special man.”
“He was, and I should have come out here more. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me.”
***
The tall, thin man in the flat top hat has a great view of Matthew. He looks tired. Maybe Matthew will be sensible and realize looking for Dr. Grabowski’s murderer is not the way a surgeon should spend his time. The man in the flat top hat prides himself on the careful manner in which he plans and executes his murders. This business was not for amateurs. A simple surgeon need not apply. Through the window, he sees Patricia. She looks good. Beautiful. He can not hear the conversation, but he is concerned. Unfortunately, he has a feeling they will both need to be dealt with. He is never wrong.
***
Patricia sits across from Matthew drinking her decaf coffee. She has a good view out the window. She thinks she sees someone looking at her from across the street. The Andersons had taken an extended vacation, and the house was vacant.
Matthew hasn’t seen Patricia in some time. She is thirty-four, but doesn’t look a day over thirty.
Matthew sees Patricia glance at the window and asks, “What is it?”
“Nothing, just a little paranoid I guess.” She grips her cup tightly.
“You look great. Still working out?” “Two hours a day, rain or shine,” says Patricia.
“What are you into these days?”
“I like to change it up. Always some cardio and then weights. I’m doing NR2.”
“NR2?” says Matthew.
“Nature raw runs.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“You run on dirt trails and on uneven terrain. Periodically, you stop and do pull ups on branches, try to climb trees, jump over small streams, roll large rocks. By mimicking actions we would have done when we lived in the forest, we get a workout in tune with our natural rhythm. Our bodies develop into the shape nature intended.”
“Well, it seems to be working. Keep it up.”
“Thanks,” says Patricia. She takes a big gulp of decaf.
“How much did Tom tell you about his facial transplant work?”
“Everything. There were no secrets. The Transplant Working Group, the Secretary of Defense Quentin Taylor’s involvement, the special funding. He told me all of it.”
Matthew isn’t surprised. Tom adored Patricia. Matthew remembers the day they were married. Tom was very happy. Despite the crazy age difference, it seemed to work.
“Anything unusual the day he died?” says Matthew.
“He was going to jog at Cypress Hill after work at the lab. He was pretty regular about it, three times a week. He wore his jogging clothes to the lab on those days to force himself to run.”
“Did he run alone?”
“Yes. He had a bit of a sweet tooth and he had gained quite a few pounds of late. He was trying to run it off.”
“Did he have any of his files at home?”
“No, everything was on his work computers.”
“Did his pattern change in any way that morning?”
Patricia plays with the white pearl necklace while she thinks. “No, everything was routine.”
“Was he concerned about anything? I know he confided in you.” Matthew puts down his cup of tea.
“No, all was normal. You obviously don’t think it was a heart attack.”
“I wouldn’t say that; it’s just that with what he was working on, I want to be sure.”
“The loss hasn’t really sunk in yet.”
“I’m going to his lab. I’ll see if anyone there knows anything.”
***
The university campus has changed little since Matthew has last seen it. Large rectangular buildings around a central courtyard. White stucco walls with the red roof tiles. Matthew walks into the large central courtyard and through the thick clay arch that rises from wide white pillars. He remembers Tom’s lab well. His mother had worked for Tom as a graduate student. They had remained close and it seemed only natural that Matthew would work summers as Tom’s intern.
When Matthew finally gets to the lab, he notes the equipment has been updated, but the biggest change is the students. Over the years, Tom had built up an internationally known research laboratory specializing in facial transplantation. Now that facial transplantation is hot, he attracted students from all over the world. However, there is a certain style to his lab that Matthew has never seen in any of the labs he has been in. Times are changing if this is how the students in research look. The students are mainly in their midtwenties. They seem to all dress as if they have come off the fashion pages of a hipster chic magazine. Very stylish haircuts and clothing. Dark blue, gray, or black hues. Slim fit pants. Stylish footwear. Minimalist cool. They all are very well put together. They could be at home in any private LA nightclub. Intelligent hipster. The more he looks at them, the more he thinks that phrase describes them perfectly. Intelligent hipster. The style of dress fits perfectly with the new modern lab’s sleek white drawers and polished aluminum accents. It is quite different from what he remembers of his time as a graduate student. It all seems to fit: the sleek computers, cutting edge equipment, cool researchers.
Matthew looks around. A tall, smiling man approaches. The first thing Matthew notices are the gleaming white teeth. They contrast with his polished ebony skin. The skin seems to have a glow. It looks like black lacquer with an undertone of pink. A smile is permanently etched on his face.
“Kofi.”
“Matthew.”
“Nice to see you again.”
“You haven’t been by the lab in a while.”
Matthew says, “You know how it is. Work, work, and more work. New York’s a busy place.”
“It’s a difficult time to meet.”
“I’m taking it hard, real hard.”
“He was a great man.”
“Show me around the lab.”
Kofi shows Matthew the surgical robot. They have the same machine in New York; it is the standard robot for facial transplantation. Matthew is a little disappointed. He expects more from Tom’s robotic surgical suite.
The three large cylindrical rods are the basis of the robot’s ability to operate. They are arranged in a triangle. Off to the side is an area where the surgeon can put his hands on the joysticks. The surgeon’s movements are then translated to the robotic “arms” to do the procedure at points where precision and no tremor are essential. Even the finest surgeon has a measurable tremor. It looks like Tom had added a computer link to allow remote data transmission and possible experiments with remote robotic access. Except for these minor modifications, it looks like his robot.
Kofi places a lifelike model of a face on the operating table. He punches a button labeled demo. The robot hums to life. It expertly dissects the face, removing the original face. The donor’s face has already been removed from its body; usually the donor is someone killed in a car accident who donated organs to help others. The robot then prepares the blood vessels for the transplant. Cutting and cauterizing tissue. Matthew sees that the robot is performing the surgery without human assistance. The robot in New York needs more human oversight. Maybe he was disappointed too soon.
Kofi speaks quietly, “Talk to some of the students. In thirty minutes leave by the west exit. I will be parked nearby. Walk into my car and lie down in the backseat.” Kofi leaves.
***
Jason says, “How did you get us into this restaurant? Wait list is supposed to be years.”
Celerie says, “Mom’s on the board of directors with a woman who helped back this place.”
“The place is packed.”
Celerie says, “I’ve been to his previous place out in LA. This is totally different.”
“I heard that place was a lot flashier.”
“Glitz, but the sushi was mediocre.”
Jason says, “This place is the opposite of flash. Just white everywhere.”
“He grew tired of the lifestyle and moved to Manhattan. Everyone expected more of the same in New York. He surprised everyone.”
“Some are calling this place the best sushi bar in the world.”
“All the vegetables are grown nearby, picked daily. He flies the fish in three times a day, within three hours or less of being caught. The LA place was a real hangout, a place to be seen. This place is all about the food. The only color in the restaurant is the sushi on the plates.”
“This guy has re- invented himself in a way no one thought possible.”
“When he was in LA, no one thought he could do this. His creativity here is just amazing.”
“Hats off to him.”
Celerie says, “You seem particularly happy tonight.”
“I love eating sush
i.”
“You are a pretty good sushi eater. But that’s not it, I’m sure.”
“Can’t I be happy to be in a wonderful restaurant with the most beautiful woman in the world. The woman who will soon be my wife?”
“You probably should, but I’m sure that’s not it.”
“Remember my assignment?”
“Sure.”
“You remember I told you about the Facial Transplant Program we’re funding?”
“Yeah, the top secret program no one knows about. The one you’re not supposed to tell anyone about.”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Nothing was really happening.”
“Correct, but I think Tom Grabowski was murdered.”
“By who?” says Celerie.
“Don’t know, not yet.”
Jason looks at the menu.
“I thought it was a heart attack?” says Celerie.
“Correct.”
“It’s all over the news; he died of a heart attack.”
“That’s the prelim, but I’m going down to Palo Alto to check it out.” Jason can’t wait to try the spicy tuna roll.
“Doesn’t seem that unusual.”
“Matthew MacAulay was talking to Quentin; he got a strange vibe, like Matthew was fishing for something.”
“Matthew?”
“Yes, he may be involved.”
Jason and Celerie are both hungry. Large white plates with sushi arrive. The waiter is wearing all white.
“How?” says Celerie.
“We’re not sure, but I’m going to find out.”
Jason watches Celerie for any reaction. Her face is calm. Jason lowers his head and eats a piece of sushi. Celerie looks at him.
***
Kofi stops the car, and Matthew raises his head. He is surprised at their location. They are in an old industrial park. There are large concrete buildings, some of which are still active while others wait for new business tenants. The area is gritty. A transitional neighborhood. Modest lower-working-class housing cheek by jowl to large warehouses. Many of the warehouses are boarded up. Matthew has no idea where they are.
