Chapter Six
Logan
looked out the window at the twilight. His skin was crawling. He felt like he
needed a shower after his encounter with Renfro. Maybe a good hot shower would
relax him. He needed something to
relax him and he figured he wasn't going to find a good bottle of Scotch around
anywhere.
So
he wheeled himself into the bathroom to check it out. There were lots of nice
fluffy towels, even a thick terrycloth robe, and a medicine cabinet he couldn't
reach. But there was also a raised ledge along the edge of the shower stall and
no way for him to get into it.
"Damn!"
He smacked his fist against a wheel of his chair. How badly did he want a
shower? Bad enough to call an orderly and ask for help? He thought about it for
a minute or two, then decided that there was no one around whom he wanted to
impress. He didn't know any of these people, and didn't care if they saw him at
less than his best. Besides, wasn't it part of an orderly's job to help
cripples take showers? So he rolled back into the main room and pushed the call
button. An unwanted instance of déjà vu hit
him. He almost couldn't remember the last time he'd needed help taking a
shower.
Almost
immediately, the orderly came running in.
"Mr.
Cale! Are you all right?" he asked, out of breath. The speed of his arrival
almost made Logan jump out of his skin.
"Yes,
I'm fine," Logan snapped at him. "I want to take a shower and I can't get into
the shower stall – there's a ledge. You'd think they'd know better at a
'private medical facility' – accessibility and all that. I'll need some help."
The orderly seemed taken aback. "Oh, OK. Let me see what I
can do." He left, but returned a few minutes later with a small but sturdy
metal bench.
"I
think this will work," he said. If I put this in the stall for you to sit on,
can you transfer yourself from the wheelchair to the bench?"
"With
your assistance, I think so," Logan said. "Let's see what we can do."
The orderly placed the bench in the shower stall and made
sure it was secure. Logan stripped down to his shorts and positioned the
wheelchair as close to the bench as he could get it. He placed his hands on the
bench and thrust his body upright. The orderly helped him transfer from the
chair to the bench, lifting him enough that his feet cleared the ledge. It was
clumsy, but it worked. When the orderly left he stripped off his shorts and
reached up to turn on the water, adjusting the temperature.
He
sat there for what seemed like hours, just letting the water run over him. He
felt his revulsion toward Renfro, his fear, and anxiety, disappear as he washed
his hair and rinsed the soap off his body. Absent the single malt, it was just
what he needed. As he wrapped himself in a towel, he called the orderly again.
The man came in, and helped Logan get back into the chair.
"Now,"
Logan said to him. "If you can just take the stuff out of the medicine cabinet
and put it on the counter so I can actually reach it, I think that will be all
I'll need."
A
few minutes later, Logan wheeled himself out of the bathroom and found that a
pair of pajamas, rather than the hospital gown, had been provided for him. He
had always worn only the bottoms, but this time, he put on the top as well.
Suddenly tired, he transferred himself to the bed; without bothering to turn
out the light, Logan closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.
**************
The
next morning, the orderly returned, awakening Logan from a deep sleep.
"Good
morning, Mr. Cale. Time for your treatment," he said.
Logan
yawned. "Don't I even get breakfast?"
"It's
still too early for breakfast, but Dr. Renfro wanted to get you started. I'll
come back for you later, after you've had your first session."
"Oh,"
was all Logan said. He sat up and maneuvered around until he was positioned on
the edge of the bed, his feet dangling over the side. "Where are my clothes?"
he demanded.
In
response, the orderly handed him a neatly folded pile of clothes, all washed
and pressed. Logan dressed quickly and got himself into his chair. "Lead on."
The orderly went behind him, as if to push the wheelchair,
but Logan's chair had no handles on the back.
"It's not made to be pushed," Logan said by way of
explanation. He looked up at the orderly defiantly.
The
man looked confused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. He motioned for
Logan to follow him.
They
moved slowly down the hall, retracing the route Logan previously had taken with
Lydecker. Once again, Logan had the impression that he was heading down a slope
into the bowels of Manticore.
The
orderly knocked on a door near the entrance to the lab. It was opened by the
lab tech Logan had met before, who smiled at the orderly and waved him away.
"Hello,
Mr. Cale. Colonel Lydecker is waiting for you. He'll explain the procedure to
you.
"Thanks," Logan said shortly, suddenly feeling hungry. He
followed the lab tech to Lydecker's office. Seeing Logan arrive, Lydecker got
up from his desk and came over to greet him. He looked down at Logan, his face
betraying nothing. He put out his hand to shake Logan's.
"Glad
to see you've agreed to the treatment," he said. "I'm sure we can help you
here."
"I
had no choice, Colonel. Dr. Renfro made such a compelling case for my
participation," Logan replied dryly.
"Well, let me explain what we're going to do. We're using
nanotechnology to treat spinal cord injuries. We inject nanocells at the site
of the injury. The injected nanocells attach themelves to the ends of the
severed nerves, eventually forming a connection that allows the interrupted
synaptic impulses to resume," he explained, more for the lab tech's benefit
than for Logan's. "This will take time, and the experiment isn't always
successful. We won't know for sure if the nanotechnology has taken hold for
several weeks."
"So
this is a long-term deal?"
"Yes.
You saw the dogs. The ones who are nearly completely healed have been treated
for 90 days. We do the injections every three days."
"I
hate needles," Logan commented, thinking of Dr. Vertes' burning injections.
Lydecker
smiled. "Don't worry. You won't feel a thing – at least initially." He motioned
to the lab tech. "Please get the cubicle set up for Mr. Cale and have the
syringe ready."
The
man hurried off to obey.
"So,
what are you really going to do to
me?" Logan asked.
"Inject
you with sterile water," Lydecker said simply.
"What about, um, what's-his-name?"
"He
does what I tell him to do. As far as he's concerned, you're getting a placebo
as a control."
"Oh.
So how long is this charade going to go on?"
"Depends
on how involved Renfro gets. She'll want to see results as quickly as
possible."
"But
you said it would take several weeks before you can tell if the nanotechnology
has kicked in. You know we don't have that much time. People will be looking
for me."
"Well,
if you have an adverse reaction, that could show up in a day or so. I'll have
to come up with a plausible one. Hopefully, seeing that, she'll be inclined to
bounce you out of here in a hurry."
The
lab tech returned, indicating that all was ready for the first treatment. "Mr.
Cale? Will you follow me please?"
Logan
did so, rolling down yet another bare hallway. He was shown to a cubicle with
an examination table and a bunch of medical paraphernalia, most of which he
didn't recognize, on a tray next to it. There was a hospital gown folded up on
the exam table. Logan sighed.
"Mr.
Cale, would you please – "
"Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."
"Do
you need any help getting onto the table?"
"No.
Do stuff like that all the time. But thanks for the offer."
"I'll
leave you then. Colonel Lydecker and the doctor will be here in a minute." He
turned to leave.
"Word
of advice – don't ask me if I need help. If I do, I'll ask you."
Logan changed into the hospital gown. Damn, he hated those
things! Even though he couldn't feel the breeze on his butt, he could imagine
it. It was hard to maintain your dignity with your ass hanging out. He
transferred from his chair to the examination table, then sat there, waiting.
He remembered that when he was a child, he used to swing his legs back and
forth against the table at the doctor's office. He wished he still could.
Lydecker
rejoined him, along with another man, whom Logan didn't recognize, but assumed
was the doctor. He carried a file folder with him.
"Mr.
Cale, this is Dr. Olsen. He's been briefed on your case and will treat you,"
Lydecker said brusquely. Dr. Olsen shook Logan's hand. He took an X-ray from
the file folder and held it up to the light. He still hadn't said a word, which
Logan found ominous.
"Hmm."
Dr. Olsen pursed his lips. He took out another X-ray and held it up next to the
other one. "Mr. Cale, I need you to lie on your side."
Logan
nodded. He turned his body sideways and lifted each leg onto the exam table.
Then he lay down and twisted onto his side. "This OK?"
"Fine."
Dr. Olsen ran strong fingers down Logan's back to determine the point of
injury. The pressure Logan felt was not unpleasant, almost like a massage. Then
the pressure stopped and Logan realized that Dr. Olsen had reached the place on
his back where the numbness began. "Ah," was all Dr. Olsen said.
While
Dr. Olsen examined Logan, Lydecker turned away, coffee mug in hand, as if he
didn't want to see what Olsen was doing.
"Can
you feel that?" Dr. Olsen said, startling Logan.
"Uh,
no."
"This?"
"No." Logan's jaw tightened.
"How
about this?" Dr. Olsen moved his fingers up Logan's spine.
There
seemed to be some pressure on his back. "Yes, I can feel that."
"Good."
Logan
smelled alcohol, then felt something cold on his back as Dr. Olsen swabbed it.
The cold feeling disappeared as Dr. Olsen moved the alcohol pad down his spine.
He shivered, even though he couldn't feel the needle slide into place and
couldn't feel the plunger of the syringe pushed down. Well, he thought, so much
for Step One. Wonder what Lydecker's got in mind for Step Two?
He
didn't have to wait long to find out. A strange sensation engulfed him; for a
few seconds he thought he smelled Max's cherry-flavored lip gloss. Then his
body stiffened and convulsed as the seizure hit him. His hands clenched and
unclenched and his head jerked back just before he lost consciousness.