Chapter 11
Wednesday, March 5th, 1986
Hill Valley
6:07 A.M.
I'm ruined.
That was the only thought going through Stanley Carlyle's head as he stalked along on his morning walk. The sun was rising in front of him, painting the street in gold and pink. The snow, was beginning to melt at last, giving rise to fresh patches of pale green grass. It was all rather pretty, but Carlyle didn't notice, too wrapped up in his dark thoughts. Damn that Dr. Brown! All he had to do was lay still. Then we would have been famous for curing Dr. Octopus. Instead he made those arms attack us, and now he's famous for being Dr. Octopus. I don't buy that 'the arms are sentient' shit. He's controlling them. He just wanted to steal all the glory for himself. That was supposed to be my glory! I was the one who was supposed to be famous! But I'll have my revenge. I'll make him pay.
Carlyle's stomach growled, prompting a turn toward the closest convenience store. After grabbing a couple of chocolate bars, Carlyle browsed the magazines, looking to see if there was anything he'd be interested in reading about.
His jaw dropped as he saw Dr. Brown's face on the cover of Scientific American. Stunned, he grabbed the magazine and started skimming. It seemed that Dr. Brown had been contacted by a young reporter for the magazine while returning from a failed assignment, and the editors had felt the resulting story was too good to pass up. Carlyle scowled as he realized the article was nothing but praise for Dr. Brown and his new arms. "Piece of garbage," he muttered, flicking through it. "Why can't they see--"
His eyes suddenly focused on one particular illustration in the article. He frowned for a moment, studying it. Then an almost evil smile appeared on his lips. Well. This is interesting. He folded the magazine, put it under his arm, then went up to the counter and paid for his purchases. He snickered as he glanced at the magazine. The perfect revenge. Now I'm glad Mother forced me into taking that computer course in college.
Tuesday, March 11th, 1986
Hill Valley
8:27 A.M.
Ugh. I still think this place is too white.
I'm inclined to agree, Doc admitted to Verne as he walked into the hospital lobby. Patients and doctors, seeing the tentacles, gave him a wide berth. Well, we're only here for a checkup. Then we can go back out into the wide, colorful world.
I hope this checkup doesn't take too long, Jules said, resting on Doc's shoulder. I have some mechanical equations I'd like to discuss with you.
And I want to play another round of tug-the-rag with Einstein, Tommy complained. And we're going to the movies in a little while with Marty and Jennifer.
We shouldn't be here more than an hour, tops, Doc reassured them as they approached the front desk. "Excuse me, I have an appointment with Dr. Caldwell at 8:30."
"Yes sir," the nurse said, somehow keeping a stone face at the tentacles. "He'll be in room 116."
"Thank you. Can I go right in?"
"Yup, that should be fine."
"Thanks." The tentacles waved at her as Doc went down the hall. She was pretty nice, Tommy said.
Dr. Caldwell is nice too, Albert said. He argued our case to the other doctors. I'm glad we have a friend like him.
Me too, Doc agreed, locating room 116. He opened the door --
And started back. Dr. Caldwell wasn't inside. Instead, sitting on the examination table with a smile was Intern Stanley Carlyle. The tentacles moved back and started hissing. He, by contrast, is not nice.
"Come on now, stop that," Carlyle said affably, getting up. "That's no way to treat your doctor."
Doc regarded Carlyle suspiciously. "Where's Dr. Caldwell?"
"He had to take an emergency case -- some poor guy who nearly suffocated inside a closet. I agreed to perform the examination in his steed."
Doc frowned. "I find that rather hard to believe, Carlyle. I was under the impression that you didn't like us."
"Oh? I admit, I was pretty shocked at first by this whole business. But I've come to accept it. The past is the past, and you can't change the past."
Doc couldn't help but smirk a little at that. "I suppose that's true."
The tentacles kept hissing. We don't trust him Father. He came after us with a chainsaw. He tried to hurt us.
Carlyle frowned at the tentacles. "Boy, they really don't like me, do they?"
"They still clearly remember your actions in the operating room," Doc said. "I can't say that I blame them for not liking you."
"Hey, I was just as frightened as they were. I thought they meant to hurt us. Most of the other doctors felt the same way. I was just trying to defend myself." Carlyle edged away from him. "In fact, how do I know they won't attack me now?"
"Stand down," Doc ordered. The tentacles resisted for a moment, then lowered. "They defer to me, Carlyle. I won't let any harm come to you."
"Even so, I'd feel a lot more comfortable if they were wearing these." Carlyle got up and went over to a bag he had on the opposite counter. Reaching in, he pulled out -- four small dog collars, with leashes attached.
The tentacles came up again, although this time from curious confusion. "Dog collars?" Doc asked, voicing their thoughts.
"Yup. I'd just tie the ends of the leashes to the legs of the examining bed. "They'd still be free to move around some, they just couldn't get the jump on me. That's all I'm worried about."
Albert moved forward a bit, studying the collars. What's that? he asked, pointing to a small electronic box attached to one of the collars. Doc repeated the question.
Carlyle grinned. "I'm a bit of an inventor myself. My mother's dog has a tendency to wander, so I built these tracking devices." Carlyle pulled a small remote out of his pocket and pressed the lone button. The devices began to beep and blink. "Now when the dog wanders off, we can easily find her. Perfectly harmless."
Doc frowned, unconvinced. What do you think, kids?
We don't know, Verne admitted. We don't like the idea of collars -- it's very degrading, makes us seem like pets. But we also don't want you to suffer from missing your physical.
And requesting a new doctor would take time, Albert said. We're supposed to go to the movies with Marty and Jennifer right after your appointment. We don't want to make them wait.
I know, but I don't want to you put you into a situation where you wouldn't be comfortable either. I could always reschedule.
Jules looked at the collars and leashes again. Actually, Father, I think that we could easily break those leashes if we had to. They're merely cloth.
Yeah, that would be simple, Tommy agreed. Carlyle doesn't know much about us or our limitations. We could neutralize him quite easily.
What about those electronics? I have my suspicions about them.
You know we can move very quickly if we need to -- we can propel you at a rate of 50 miles per hour if need be. We could probably negate any threat he might make towards us before he can do anything with his remote.
You're sure?
98.5 percent, Father.
Whatever gets us out of here the fastest, Albert said with a squeak
Yeah, I want to go to the movies and stuff you with candy, Tommy teased.
Doc chuckled. "All right, Carlyle, the tentacles are willing to submit to the collars. Just please, make this quick. I've got an appointment later with friends."
Carlyle smiled, slipping the remote back into his pocket. "Of course. Take off your shirt, hop on the table, and let's get this over with."
Doc did just that, setting his shirt to the side. The tentacles dipped downward, allowing Carlyle to fix their collars. Stanley tied the attached leashes to the legs of the examining table. The tentacles waved around a bit, testing the limits of their new bonds. Easily snappable, Albert assured Doc. If he tries anything, we will be free before he can blink.
The examination went smoothly -- Carlyle checked blood pressure temperature, hearing, eyesight, all the usual things. He also examined Doc's back at length. "Well, everything seems to be okay with you," he finally said. "The skin around the metal spine is healing nicely, and the harness itself doesn't seem to be affecting any of your body functions. On the whole, I'd give you a clean bill of health."
The tentacles chittered happily. Doc smiled. "That's great, thanks. Now can we please get these collars off them so I can go?"
"Just a moment." Carlyle casually walked away, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. "I have to say, I think that your overall health would be improved, if. . . ."
"If?" Doc prompted, starting to get suspicious. The tentacles began to hiss, sensing danger.
"If we cut those things off your back," Carlyle said coldly, turning to face Doc.
"Those 'things' are my children," Doc snapped as the tentacles hissed louder.
"Don't give me that bullshit," Stanley snapped back. "You can't possibly really believe those things are alive. I know you just wanted the glory of being Dr. Octopus."
"The glory!"
"Yes, the glory! Dr. Octopus is one of the best-known Spider-Man villains ever! By becoming him, you assured yourself fame beyond your wildest dreams!"
"Infamy, you mean! I love the kids, but we don't want to be Dr. Octopus! We're not criminals!"
"Hah," Carlyle said, his voice like ice. "One of them tried to kill me."
I might try again! Albert snarled, snapping his pincers threateningly.
"Albert merely gave you a warning, you chainsaw menace," Doc growled. "If he had really wanted to hurt you, he would have done so." Ready to snap the leashes on my word?
Ready, the tentacles confirmed, tensing themselves.
"Stop referring to them like they're people! They're not alive! They're four metal tubes attached to your back! You attacked us because you wanted to be famous!" Stanley glowered at him. "Well, you're not the only one who wants to be famous!" He yanked out the remote and pressed the button.
The arms abruptly went limp, falling against the examination bed with a set of dull thuds. Doc looked at them in confusion. Kids? What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to set -- up --
Kids?
Doc realized something. He was alone in his mind. The voices of the tentacles had utterly disappeared. It was -- silent. Suffocatingly silent. Kids? KIDS! Please, answer me! One of you say something, anything. . . .
"You really should be more careful about what blueprints you hand out," Carlyle smirked.
Doc glared at him, stroking one of the tentacles. "What did you do to them?" he demanded.
"Nothing much. Just inhibited them, like you did before. The real fun comes later." He reached for something else in his pocket. Doc tried to get up, only to find that the tentacles were practically pinning him to the bed with their weight. "Don't worry, though. I'm not cruel enough to cripple you. I'll just cut the arms off and leave the harness to help keep your spine stabilized."
"You do anything to my kids and I'll--"
Carlyle suddenly grabbed Doc's arm and pulled his other hand out to reveal a syringe. Doc yelped as the needle entered his flesh. "You'll nothing," he finished. "I got this straight from the supplies room. Fastest-acting sedative they had. You'll be dead to the world within minutes." Carlyle snickered cruelly. "You know, for an acknowledged genius, you were pretty easy to trick."
Doc didn't reply. Carlyle was right -- this was a powerful sedative. He was feeling woozy already. He desperately tried to hold onto consciousness. "You won't get away with this," he hissed, acutely aware of how pathetic it sounded.
"That's what people say to movie villains," Carlyle said dismissively. "This isn't the movies."
No, this is the comic books, Doc thought, his grip on reality becoming weaker. Damn it, I should have listened to the tentacles! My poor kids. . . . Jules! Verne! Albert! Tommy!
Father?
Doc started. Had he just heard -- Jules?
Father, where are you? You sound so far away. Where are my brothers?
Carlyle -- Carlyle tricked us. He built -- inhibitor collars -- Doc thought laboredly, his eyelids beginning to droop. He's -- going to -- to cut you off --
No! Don't let him do it, Father! Help us!
I -- I can't. He drugged -- me. . . . Doc slumped backward, his eyes closing. Try and -- and break free, Jules. . .get. . .help. . . .
Doc fell against the wall, sound asleep. Carlyle chuckled and arranged him so that he was lying face down, the arms spread to the sides. "Well then, let me just fetch my tools and we'll go to work," he said cheerfully. "Be right back, Dr. Octopus." He left, humming to himself.
For a moment, all was silent and still inside of the room. Then, slowly and jerkily, Jules began to move. Carlyle hadn't realized it, but he had used a failing battery to power the on-off functions in his final inhibitor collar. As a result, it was much weaker than the other three. And when the battery died completely, there was a good chance that it would be useless.
Jules, however, couldn't afford to wait that long. He knew that, in just a few minutes, Carlyle would be back to cut him and his brothers off. He nudged Verne, but got no response. He chittered fearfully, hovering over Doc's head. Father, please help me. Don't leave me alone.
Doc didn't reply either. When Jules looked, he saw that Doc was unconscious. Jules poked him. Wake up, Father, wake up.
There was no response. And from the limited, faint biological report he was receiving, there was something wrong with Doc. Something very wrong. Jules looked around. Got to do what Father told me. Got to get help.
One thing was for sure -- he'd never be able to get help with this thing on. Taking advantage of his jerky movements, Jules slammed himself into the wall. Plaster fell, drywall cracked -- but the chip on the collar broke, leaving Jules free. He snapped the leash holding him down and extended into the hall.
Tuesday, March 11th
9:09 A.M.
Marty entered the hospital lobby, humming to himself. It was a beautiful day out, and he was going to spend it with his two favorite people. Jennifer was waiting patiently in the truck, so all he had to do was pick up Doc. He scanned the lobby, looking for his friend.
There was no sign of him. Marty frowned, a bit puzzled, then went up to the nurse at the front desk. "Excuse me, but has Dr. Emmett Brown come through here? I'm Marty McFly, I'm his pick-up."
"He came in about a half-hour ago," the nurse said, nodding as she recognized Marty. "He hasn't come back yet, though."
"Okay, thank you." Huh. I guess his exam is taking longer than we thought. Maybe the tentacles got up to something. Oh well, Jennifer won't mind circling --
"Hey! Help! Get me out of here!"
Marty started at the suddenly yell, as did everyone else in the lobby. Looking for its source, Marty realized it was coming from a supply closet just inside the main hall. He and the front desk nurse jogged over. "Help! I'm locked in here!"
"We're here, stay calm," the nurse told the captive. She pulled a ring of keys out of her pocket and, after trying a few, got the door unlocked. A brown-haired man in a doctor's coat stumbled out, coughing and dragging a broom with him. "Dr. Caldwell!"
"Thanks," Caldwell coughed. "Somebody jumped me from behind, knocked me out and stuffed me in there. I only came to about a minute ago."
"Who would do such a thing?" the nurse asked, sounding stunned.
Marty had a different thought. "Doc came in for an appointment with you! What happened to him?"
"He probably got one of the interns," Caldwell said, getting his breath back. "I'm sure he's fine, my office is right up the hall--"
SCREEEK!
Heads turned sharply as a tentacle appeared near them. Marty blinked as he saw it was attached to a strange-looking dog collar and a broken leash. "What the hell?" he said, touching them cautiously. "What happened to you? Hell, which one are you?"
The tentacle chittered and squeaked, obviously in distress. Marty's stomach twisted. "Did -- did something happen to Doc?"
The tentacle nodded -- then seemed to get an idea. It slithered around to Marty's back. "Hey, where are you go--"
There was a sudden sharp pain at the base of his skull, like someone had jabbed a couple of thin needles into the nape of his neck. "OW! Hey, that hurt!"
I'm sorry, brother.
Marty's eyes went wide. Where had that voice come from? It seemed to be coming from -- from inside his own head. . .
I'm Jules. Father fitted me with wires so I could tap into power systems if need be, remember? I thought that a human nervous system might work along the same principles.
"Uh, Marty? That claw is cradling your head rather oddly," Caldwell said, looking concerned.
"He's talking to me," Marty whispered. "He somehow plugged into my brain. . . . Wait a minute, shouldn't there be four of you?"
Something's happened to my brothers and Father. We went to have our physical, and Intern Carlyle was waiting for us in the examining room. He seemed sorry for what he did, so we thought -- we thought we could trust him. . . .
Marty realized that Jules was crying. He reached back and patted the tentacle, trying to soothe it. He tricked us, Marty. These collars have something like Father's inhibitor chip attached to them. Mine didn't work correctly for some reason, so I was able to stay in minimal contact with Father. He told me Carlyle drugged him. Then he went to sleep, and I can't wake him up. Please help me Marty. . . .
Marty quickly relayed the information to Caldwell. "Shit! I never trusted Stanley Carlyle. Most likely he wants to cut the arms off." Marty nodded as Jules confirmed this. "We'll have to act quickly to have a chance at saving them. Lead on, Jules."
Jules withdrew from Marty's mind and rocketed down the hall. The humans followed closely, Marty briefly touching the back of his head to make sure that he wasn't bleeding too much. They found Doc face down on the examining table in Dr. Caldwell's office, the other three actuators spread out around him and tied to the legs by their leashes. Marty frowned as he looked at the unconscious Doc. His breathing sounded a bit odd. . . .
"How could Carlyle even build things like these?" the nurse asked, puzzled.
"Carlyle obviously reads Scientific American," Caldwell said, studying the chips. "Dr. Brown's blueprints for his inhibitor chip, the one that was destroyed in the accident, were featured."
"Yeah, Doc and the tentacles couldn't understand why," Marty said as Jules made some rather rude-sounding noises. He reached for Verne's collar. "They should be okay once we take these off, right?"
"I'm not sure, Marty. I don't know exactly how Carlyle's version of the chip works, and I don't want to damage the tentacles. We have to figure out how to deactivate the collars first."
Jules showed Dr. Caldwell his own chip, then made a smashing motion against the wall and pointed at the dent he had left. "I'd leave that for a last resort," Caldwell said with a slight grin. "We don't want to wreck the hospital as well."
A contented humming caught everyone's attention. The group turned toward the door as Stanley Carlyle wheeled in a cart covered in power tools. He froze as he spotted the quartet. "Dr. Caldwell!" he gasped. "Where did you come from?"
"You know damn well where I came from," Caldwell growled, advancing on the intern. "What did you do to those tentacles?"
Carlyle, knowing the jig was up, dropped the fake surprise. "What does it look like? What I want to know is how that one woke up!"
"Apparently there was a flaw in the design. Carlyle, you can't go cutting off those tentacles! You'd seriously damage Dr. Brown's nervous system!"
"I'm only cutting off the tentacles, not the harness!"
"Even so! He's gotten used to having them be a part of him! You could drive him crazy by removing them!"
"He already is crazy! He thinks the arms are alive! How much crazier do you want!"
As the doctors argued, Marty noticed a small remote sticking out of Carlyle's pocket. He immediately went into action, snatching the remote before Carlyle had a chance to react. "Hey! Give that back, you little--"
Marty pressed the button. The effects were astounding and immediate. The three other tentacles snapped up, screeching and making other angry noises. Jules squealed and attempted to "hug" them all.
Carlyle lunged for Marty and the remote. Marty jumped nimbly out of the way, leaving Carlyle to get a face full of tiled floor. Caldwell promptly pinned him, holding his arms behind his back. "Damn it, let me go! I was only trying to help!"
"Like hell," Caldwell countered as the tentacles hissed angry at Carlyle. "You just wanted the fame of being the one to operate on 'Dr. Octopus.' You don't care at all about Dr. Brown."
"He threatened to kill me!"
"You threatened to kill them!"
Marty looked back at Doc as he pocketed the remote. "Hey guys, I hate to interrupt, but Doc's not sounding so good."
"I noticed that too," the nurse said, approaching the examination bed with a frown. Verne, Albert, and Tommy all hissed at her. "Stand down, guys, she's with us," Marty said soothingly as Jules chittered in agreement. "Mind flipping Doc over so we can see what's up?"
The tentacles did so, snapping the leashes. Doc looked a little paler than normal, and his breathing sounded very labored. The nurse examined Doc's throat as Marty pulled the collars off the tentacles. "No wonder he's having trouble breathing! His throat is swelling up terribly!"
Dr. Caldwell turned rather pale himself. "Carlyle, what did you use to sedate Dr. Brown."
"Sodium phenotate. It was the quickest-acting one they had. Why?"
"You moron!" Dr. Caldwell yelled. "You might as well have given him poison! He's allergic to that!"
The tentacles immediately switched from anger to fright. They dipped low around Doc, poking him with their pincers and screeching at him. Doc remained stubbornly unconscious, though he was almost gasping for breath by this point. "Do something!" Marty yelled at them. "Aren't you four hooked into his nervous system? Can't you stop this!"
The tentacles looked at each other. Then Jules went over and joined up with Marty again. We don't know what to do, Marty! All we know is that he's slowly suffocating!
Tell us what to do, Marty, Verne pleaded.
"Right, what do you give to a guy who's having an allergic reaction?" Marty asked desperately.
"Adrenaline," the nurse said. "I'll go get some right now." She raced out of the room.
"Is anything else going to happen to him? Anything we should know about?" Marty asked as the tentacles squeaked fearfully.
"The reaction is basically limited to his airway closing up," Dr. Caldwell said. "Of course, that is enough to kill him if he isn't treated promptly."
"Shit. . . . Do you think you guys could, I dunno, make him make adrenaline for himself?" Marty asked the tentacles.
There was a hesitation. Father asked us not to interfere with his brain chemistry, Albert admitted. He told us it makes him nervous.
But he's dying! We have to! Tommy cried.
"This is an emergency," Marty agreed. "Doc would forgive you for this."
You're right. The tentacles went to work. Marty could almost feel them directing the impulses in Doc's brain. After a minute, Doc began to breathe a little easier. Marty relaxed. "Thanks a bunch, guys. That should hold him over until the nurse gets back, right?" The tentacles nodded.
Carlyle squirmed under Caldwell. "You're a bunch of freaks, all of you! I can't believe you'd actually defend those things!"
Marty glared at him, the tentacles hissing again. "These things helped save both my life and Doc's. I can't say you've done the same, asshole." Carlyle was about to respond when Albert's blade popped out threateningly. Carlyle shut up and looked at the floor.
The nurse returned, carefully tapping the air bubbles out of a syringe. The three unoccupied tentacles hovered anxiously around her, waiting impatiently for the operation to be finished. "Don't crowd me," she scolded them. "I'm trying to make sure that nothing else happens to him." The tentacles moved back, chattering apologetically. The nurse gave them a smile, then injected the adrenaline straight into Doc's carotid artery.
There was a tense minute as everyone waited. Then the swelling in Doc's throat began to go down more. Marty breathed a sigh of relief. "Do you think he's gonna be okay?"
Our biometric readings seem to indicate so, Jules said happily. Should we try again to waken Father?
"Yeah, go ahead."
Tuesday, March 11th
9:14 A.M.
Doc let out a low groan. He felt like he'd been asleep for ages. Every part of his body seemed like it weighed a ton more than it was supposed to. What the hell did Carlyle inject me with?
"It looks like he's starting to come to," a voice said from far away. Doc tried to open his eyes, to reach out, but his body wasn't quite ready to respond. It felt like he was stranded in some sort of dark, cold sea, unable to reach shore. He moaned again and tried to speak. Help me. . . .
Don't worry, Father, we're here. Doc felt four -- no, not four, five -- presences in his mind, helping him pull him back to wakefulness. We will help you.
Thanks, kids.
Doc's eyes suddenly popped open. Bright light assaulted his eyes, but he barely noticed, too caught up in his own emotions. "Kids?" he repeated aloud, stunned. Could it be -- were they --
We're here, Father. We're back.
Doc could have jumped for joy. "Kids!" He sat up as the life came back into his body and clumsily tried to embrace the tentacles. "Oh, kids, I was so worried about you. . . ."
"Easy now, Dr. Brown," came the voice of Dr. Caldwell. "We've just saved you from a near-fatal allergic reaction."
"What? What happened?" Doc asked, feeling around for his sunglasses. One of the tentacles placed them in his hand.
"Genius over there decided to inject you with something called sodium phenotate," Marty said as Doc slipped them on. "And apparently you're allergic enough to that to stop breathing."
A chill ran down Doc's spine. "That's right -- they gave me that to take my tonsils out, and my throat almost completely swelled up." He rubbed his neck. "No wonder it feels rather sore. Thank you all for your quick action."
They saved us all, Father, Jules said happily, as the others rubbed up against him affectionately. I was able to find Dr. Caldwell, Marty, and a nurse and communicate with them. They made Carlyle leave us alone -- Dr. Caldwell has him pinned to the floor right now -- and the nurse and Marty helped your allergic reaction.
Doc smiled -- then frowned as he realized he could still feel that mysterious fifth presence. So far, it had been silent, but it was still there. Puzzled, Doc reached out to it, trying to figure out who or what it was. To his surprise, the presence seemed to be made up of -- music. Doc could hear strange, half-finished tunes swirling around in this new fifth mind. He blinked a few times, trying to make sense of it. He had never gotten that sort of sensation from any of the tentacles. Hello? he called mentally. Who are you?
He noticed Marty step back, a surprised look on his face -- and then he noticed that Jules's claw was wrapped gently around Marty's head. A few moments later, his suspicions were confirmed. Doc? Is that you?
Hello Marty. I wasn't aware your brain was this noisy.
Marty smirked. Yours is pretty loud too -- I knewI wasn't thinking about quantum equations. I didn't think I'd be able to hear you, though, just the tentacles.
I didn't either. In fact, I didn't know Jules could hook into a human nervous system with his attachments. Doc frowned. He isn't hurting you, is he?
No, Doc, I'm fine. Marty shook his head. Jesus, this is weird -- although I guess it proves you're okay if you've got science stuff cooking in your head.
"Are you two all right?" the nurse asked. "You both look rather odd."
"We're fine," Doc assured her. "Jules hooking into Marty's nervous system apparently has the side effect of me being able to hear his thoughts, and vice-versa."
Dr. Caldwell frowned at them. "You know, Marty, I think we'd better do a CAT scan on you after we've cleaned up here, just in case. That sounds like a pretty serious invasion."
"Probably for the best," Doc admitted. "We want to be certain Jules didn't hurt you, after all."
Jennifer appeared in the doorway, followed by a couple more doctors and nurses. "What's going on?" she asked, staring at the scene in front of her. "I came in to see what was the hold up, and someone told me that they saw you rescue Dr. Caldwell from a storage closet, then follow one of the tentacles back to his office."
"Are you all right, Dr. Caldwell?" one of the other doctors asked.
"What on earth are you doing to Intern Carlyle?"
"I'm fine," Dr. Caldwell said. "But I think we'd all better have a chat with Intern Carlyle here about his future as a doctor."
"I was doing the right thing," Carlyle grumbled.
"Like hell you were."
"It's okay, Jennifer," Marty said, Jules withdrawing from his brain as he stepped forward. "That jerk on the floor decided to cause more trouble for Doc and nearly ended up killing him."
"Are you okay, Doc?" Jennifer asked nervously.
Doc smiled and gathered the tentacles into his arms. "I am now," he said, beckoning them into his embrace.