by Gen LaGreca
And you had no right to do what you did to Charles Fox, Warren silently admonished a boy of twelve with eyes too large for his small face. When Charles Fox and his Earthlings for a Simple Planet vandalized my lab because they said my work polluted the environment, I was angry, too. I sued him, didn’t I? But what was I to do after they publicly smeared me? What did it matter that their accusations were false? People believed I was wrong, and they made me feel guilty. The Simple Earthlings were entitled to their opinion, too, weren’t they? How could I bring suit against people working for the good of the planet?
“If everything goes well in the second surgery, I will free the regenerated optic nerves from scar interference and permit the permanent restoration of function.”
The day I dropped the lawsuit against the Earthlings, you were supposed to be in school, David, not outside the courtroom waiting for Charles Fox. At twelve, you were too old to punch him in the stomach and kick him in the shins not once, but five times, before I could tear you away. Even though I reprimanded you, grounded you, and took away your allowance when you refused to apologize to Charles, I didn’t force you to do it. How could I, David, when you were the only one who had taken my side? I was much too soft on you. And that’s why you never learned about social obligations.
“However, if the scar tissue isn’t removed and prevented from re-forming, it’ll impede nerve function and the nerve repair will be futile. Therefore, I must impress on you the absolute necessity of the second surgery.” David sat back in his chair. “So, that’s the story, Father. You know that an injury of this nature had to be dealt with quickly and couldn’t wait for committees or certifications. You also know that the people granting the approvals—your staff—are incompetent to evaluate my surgery, and the thought of them telling me what to do in the OR is ludicrous. If you really want to do something noble, you’ll leave me and my patient free to handle this matter without interference.”
David studied Warren’s face. It looked as immovable as Nicole’s pupils.
Finally, the secretary spoke: “Medically, you are right.”
“The first word is superfluous.”
“There are considerations beyond medicine in determining right and wrong.”
“Like what?”
“Like this agency’s obligation to protect the patient.”
“From me?”
“From unscrupulous doctors. If you can do whatever you please, that means all doctors can do the same. Then how will the public be protected from unprincipled physicians?”
“How will substituting your edicts for our judgment improve our performance?”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t spend public funds on an unrecognized procedure.”
“Because the procedure is experimental, I insist on waiving my fee and personally paying the hospital bills.”
“You can’t pay for anything! That’s illegal.”
“You mean charity is now outlawed?”
“Your charity would have the self-serving motive of advancing your pet project. The press would see that.”
“Would I do better work if I had no interest in my projects and couldn’t care less whether Nicole lived or died?”
“You’d do better work if you could hold on to your license!”
“If I’m not permitted to finance my own experiment, then my patient will gladly pay her own medical bills to keep the surgery out of the purview of CareFree.”
“She can’t pay! That’s against the law. If we let patients pay with their own money, then we’ll be back to the old corrupt system where only those who can afford it get treatment.”
“You mean it’s corrupt to pay for the services of others but right to expect them for nothing?”
“Your patient must not pay a single medical bill. CareFree guarantees care to her for free.”
“But she doesn’t want the care you’re guaranteeing.”
“Even if you could waive your charges, Randall’s hospital couldn’t take private money for its fees. Our charter would drop the hospital as a CareFree provider, and it would go out of business. So your patient’s treatment is publicly funded—and has to be. That’s the glory of CareFree. It sets people free from having to pay for their medical care.”
“How is my patient set free if she no longer can decide for herself?”
“Did you let your brother decide for himself when you performed the surgery at his hospital?” Warren saw a break in the marble face. “When Randall loses his job, as he will if he’s foolish enough to defend you, are you prepared to bankroll the development of his children’s talents?”
“Don’t blackmail me with threats against the innocent!” Lines of pain twisted a face that could not conceal them.
“And Marie told me you’ve been paying hefty fines to this agency. Because I insist that no staff member is to bend the rules for my family, I was never told about your fines, nor would I have intervened had I known. Because you would apparently be strapped to help Randall out, and he wouldn’t accept money from you anyway, are you prepared to explain to his children why they will lose their futures?”
“Are you prepared to explain to your grandchildren why their futures are being jeopardized to further your own?”
“But David, I’m not acting for myself. I’m acting for the people!”
“What gives them the right to stop a treatment that I want to do and that my patient wants to have?”
“It’s you who had no right to perform an operation against the interests of your brother and the hospital.”
“Why would a hospital disapprove of a new procedure that could skyrocket its caseload? I could bring a lot of money into that hospital—if it was free to make money. You know what’s behind the clash between me and the hospital”—his voice became low—“and between me and my brother.”
“And what about your wife’s feelings? She and I dined alone last night. Did you know that Marie had invited me to join you two for dinner? She thought you’d want to reconcile your differences with me. Instead, look what you’ve done.”
“I never agreed to dine with a man who wants to poison me.”
The color drained from Warren’s face. “You know, when you were two years old, you used to cry every morning when I left for work. You gave your mother a terrible time because you wanted to be with only me. Now you show not the slightest remorse at the pain you’re causing me and the rest of the family.”
“Is that what I’m supposed to tell my patient, Father? That she has to grope in darkness for the rest of her life because members of my family are personally offended by her surgery?”
Warren’s face grew taut. He leaned forward in his chair, pointing an accusing finger at David. “There are severe penalties for what you did. So choose: Either you give up this case, apologize to the governor and the public, and hope to hell I can save you even then, or keep up this brash defiance and get yourself kicked out of medicine and possibly thrown in jail. Those are the penalties. I have not only the power but also the moral obligation to enforce them.”
“If you have a moral obligation to throw me in jail, then who’s allowed to roam free? If science is outlawed, then what’s legal?”
“Choose, David.”
“A new discovery lands me in jail, but blind obedience to the whims of this institution sets me free. Is that the choice you’re giving me?”
“I’m acutely aware of the value of your research. If you would only have patience and go through the proper channels, in time we would make allowances for you to conduct your experiments and test your procedure. I’m giving you a choice between professional suicide, public disgrace, and a possible prison sentence versus your research, your career, your success, and your freedom.”
“Doing my work at a time determined by you, with your funds, in your labs, under your rules, with your inspectors breathing down my neck? Is that what you call my freedom? Let’s drop the pretense, Father. What you really mean is that if I do what you want, then you might beco
me the next lieutenant governor. Isn’t that true? Everybody knows that the governor’s reelection rests on the voters’ confidence in CareFree. And everyone also knows that CareFree is a colossal failure. The governor needed a scapegoat to explain why just a few years of CareFree has wreaked havoc with medicine. That’s why you made your budget cuts, blamed the doctors for the mess, and issued your threats. Now you have to make good on those threats. So you’re ordering me to ignore the whole of my medical knowledge and chose a treatment that’s best for you and your boss to win an election. And in some perverted attempt to delude yourself or me or both of us, you claim you’re doing something noble. I call it an unspeakable corruption!”
“Your mother warned me that you would become antisocial, but I never listened. You were so bright, David, and the things you did gave you such immense pleasure that I couldn’t force you to change your ways. I let you think only of yourself and your interests while you ignored the opinions others had about you. That’s why today you can think only in the narrow terms of one doctor, one patient, and one case and you don’t consider the effects of your actions on society as a whole.”
“And how am I to know what effects my actions would have on society? That’s where you come in, isn’t it, Father? You’ve got us all strung out on some cosmic necklace threaded by you and your boss, so that slack for some of us means gagging for the rest. What effect could Nicole’s surgery have on a man with a broken ankle in Saratoga Springs if she paid for the treatment with her own money? Why would he care if she bought a mink coat or an operation if her treatment didn’t result in the curtailment of his own?”
But David realized that his argument, like rays deflected off an impenetrable surface, did not reach Warren.
“Choose, David. Either obey society’s laws or become an outcast and an outlaw. I hope that as a healer and as my son, you will make the only choice that a man of character can make.”
“I choose to have none of your kind of character and to be faithful to myself and my work. If that disgraces me, then so be it.”
“Then you will get your punishment.”
David sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “Father, I never pleaded a case to you. I never begged for a favor. But I’m begging now. I’ll do whatever you want, only I must perform the second surgery on Nicole. After that, I’ll plead guilty to all of your charges, I’ll leave medicine, I’ll go to jail, I’ll accept any punishment you choose. If it meant anything to you that as a child I wanted to be with only you, that I cried when you left the house, that I learned to love medicine from you, that I idolized you, that I loved you not only as a father but also as the hero of my childhood, then grant me this one and only favor—in the name of something that was once precious to both of us. Please, Father. Tie this matter up in a committee, look the other way, stall it—only don’t stop me until my work is done. Lift my suspension and make Riverview Hospital reinstate my staff privileges—just until I can do the second procedure. And don’t punish Randy and the hospital, only me!” David closed his eyes painfully. “Please, Father.”
The crusty features of Warren’s face were softened in a sudden remolding, as if an astute sculptor had captured a hidden layer of his subject’s soul. “David, I never imagined that I would be able to share my work with you. I really do love medicine. Watching that same spark ignite in you, too, has been the joy of my life. But I can’t do what you’re asking. I want to, but Mack Burrow is demanding your blood.”
David’s eyes widened with hope. “Do you really want to save me, Father? Do you really want to be the person I thought you were?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it!” David leaned forward, his arms spread over the desk, a sudden spark of interest lighting his face. “Quit this despicable institution and come back to medicine. Exonerate me as your last official deed and be done with this dirty work! Would you, Dad, would you?”
“Son, I want to defend you, but not as an act against this institution. Not at all. I want to defend you because your work is of immense importance, not just to you or your patient but also to society. It’s in the public interest.”
David’s hopes sunk in a pit of disappointment. “That’s not the way to defend me! You can’t take a majority vote on Nicole’s life or on my work. May the public and its so-called interest be damned!”
“Okay, David. I won’t appeal to your social conscience. Let’s look at this matter in a purely personal way. After all, a man never does forget the . . . hero . . . of his childhood. I gave you, well, so much to admire as a kid, and now I’m giving you even more to be proud of.”
David raised his eyebrows in utter incredulity. “Are you thinking that I could be proud of you for teaming up with Mack Burrow?”
“Forget him. He’s just a means to my later becoming governor. You can admit it, son—aren’t you really proud of all I’ve accomplished?”
David’s mind echoed with Nicole’s anguished cries of wanting to die. For what senseless purpose would she be condemned to suffer? he wondered. He envisioned Mack Burrow with his limousine, his mansion, his followers, his press.
“Give up this hopeless quest for my sake. Tell the truth, son. Wouldn’t you rather have my love than my censure?”
“I’d rather be a bastard than be a son of yours.”
Both men were shocked into silence. Warren could have forgiven David for saying what he had if it were a cry torn from him in rage. But the fact that David uttered it calmly, coldly, and with full intent was a cut from which Warren would bleed for the rest of his life.
As a substitute for a hurt too deep to reveal, Warren became livid. He rose to his feet, pounding his fists against the desk until the vase and its gladiolas shook furiously. “I’ll not sanction lawlessness. You’ll not perform that second surgery! The answer is no!”
David stood, his body thrusting forward, his hands on the desk, his voice hitting his father from a distance of inches. “I would perform that second surgery even if it meant your death.”
“You’re no son of mine! You’re finished! When I get through with you, you’ll never operate again, just as surely as if your hands were slashed!” Warren continued slamming his fist on the desk.
Without warning and dangerously close to where David’s hands lay, the tall crystal vase shook from the force of Warren’s pounding and came crashing down. A flurry of broken glass, scattered flowers, and splashing water hit the desk.
“Look out!” Warren shouted. He pulled David’s hands away from the flying crystal an instant before it could cut him.
Both men froze, stunned by the action. Warren’s hands grasped David’s, the way one clutches a baby safely away from a fire. Trembling, Warren protectively pressed his son’s hands to his chest, with David permitting the act.
“Son, your work is a noble vision. But CareFree is noble, too.”
“They can’t both be noble, Father.”
“But how can they not be?”
David jerked his hands away. He stepped backward cautiously, as if retreating from an unknown menace too fearsome to turn his back on. Then he stopped, raised his right arm slowly, and pointed a trembling finger at Warren, his voice resonating through the room: “I told you two years ago when you accepted this post, and I’ll tell you again now: One of us is going to destroy the other. Before this matter is over, one of us will be finished!”
Part Two: Thunder
Chapter 16
The Model Citizen
David sat on the front steps of his house watching a few smoky pink clouds on the horizon turn silver gray in the western sky. Though his body looked relaxed as he leaned on his elbows, his long legs sprawling down the wooden stairs, his eyes were intense and distant. When the lawn, a lush green carpet circling the porch and stretching to the pavement, darkened to the same slate hue as the street, he walked into the house and across the kitchen.
Marie, brewing tea at the stove, watched him heading for the garage. She was wrapped in a long robe and settled in for
the evening.
“Going out again tonight, David?”
“I told you on Friday that I’d be tied up for a few nights.”
“And today’s Sunday, supposedly a day when husbands spend time with their wives.”
He looked at her silently.
“I’m still in shock over what you did to your career—and to our lives—last Wednesday evening.”
He said nothing.
“Where have you been every night since you got suspended? I know one place not on your travel log, and that’s the OR. So tell me, David, how does a man pass the time after destroying his career?”
He thought that she had a right to know where he was going, but a deeper voice cautioned him to keep his business to himself. “There’s something I need to do, but I’m afraid I can’t discuss it.”
“What might that be? Anesthetize yourself in a bar?”
“If you wish.” He seemed pleased at her conclusion that he was drinking.
“I see you’re dressed like a jewel thief again.”
He was clad entirely in black—from sneakers to denim pants to polo shirt to baseball cap.
“Good night, Marie,” he called, vanishing into the garage, his voice tinged with sadness.
* * * * *
Twenty minutes later, his car clattered off the metal bridge from Queens to the East Side of Manhattan. He saw few people on the streets with the hour growing late—a man walking his dog, a shopper entering a late-night grocery, a couple leaving an empty restaurant. Although he was headed west, he parked on the East Side and hailed a taxi.
David stepped into the backseat, his head lowered to avoid the driver’s glance. His face had appeared in the press that week, and he did not want to be recognized. His youthful appearance did not suggest an experienced surgeon, and his most revealing feature, the unusually intelligent eyes, were hidden by the baseball cap pulled down to his brows.
The cab’s radio was tuned to a newscast: “Today the mayor ordered an investigation into the explosion in Manhattan injuring two hundred people. The blast has been traced to a faulty gas pipeline. The Bowing Construction Company, which installed the pipeline, is already under suspicion in the recent kickback scheme involving high-level officials in the Burrow Administration. Sources indicate that the lieutenant governor may also be charged in the scandal. The governor denied any knowledge of the affair.”
