No… I Don't Think I Will
A Captain America Story
Chapter 6
The Sutton Hoo Helmet
by Steve A. Rowell
CHINA
208 A.D.
The operating theater cleansed with incense. The air hung heavy with smoke and the smell was intense. Phastos knew the cultural significance of the ritual. He also knew that the smoke contained polyaromatic hydrocarbons, benzene, and carbonyls. The tradition damaged the immune and respiratory systems. At this point in the development, he was happy to allow the possibly harmful ceremony if it moved things forward. He had already overcome several more barbaric practices by showing the benefits of advancements in alchemy.
Mafeisan was offered to the patient in a tea ceremony. The powerful anesthetic administered by the Phastos with all the required amenities. The recipe was secret. Phastos was one of the few people In the world trusted with the combination of herbs. Phastos created it. He was here 330 years ago and worked with the Buddhist monks. He cycled out shortly after. At this time in human development, it was easy to be forgotten. Two generations were enough to guarantee anonymity. The Eternals cycled between cultures, finding something unique, developing it, crediting it to a local, then, moving on.
When the shaman had finished his dance and chants the room cleansed, the patient's hun and po prepared, the operation would continue. Phastos signaled for the nurse. He entered with a bamboo tray of instruments and placed them beside the patient. Soon after the surgeon came in with his hands palms up in front of him, followed by the anesthesiologist who took his place at the head of the table. Phastos was able to convince them that washing their hands and offering them up to the heavens was pleasing to the spirits. It was a ruse to make the operation as germ free as he could. He would take what he could get.
Phastos stood with his arms crossed in a corner of the room. This was the most nerve-racking part of his task. Success or failure must be theirs and theirs and theirs alone. History must not record his presence. Humankind would advance forward in medicine or fall backward into darkness from what transpired in the next few minutes.
The operation began.
Hua T'o, the great physician of the Eastern Han Dynasty entered Phastos stood beside the great physician through his illustrious career, exploring the inner workings of the human mind and body, exploring, learning and documenting the discoveries and experiences.
Hua T'o took a scalpel from the tray it glowed red with the touch of his hand. She did not look at Phastos. They discussed this moment at length. He came to understand his wishes for humanity. Phastos could not "do." He could only prepare and observe. All must be accomplished by Hua T'o's hand alone.
He made the first incision. The blade followed its path leaving only a small drop of bleed at the insertion point. It glided down effortlessly separating the skin without disturbing the organs just below the surface. She stopped and withdrew the instrument leaving another small drop of blood at the exit point. Hua T'o looked at the anesthesiologist who was holding a specialized mirror to the patient's face monitoring his every breath. Beside him were three bags of carefully selected herbs in varying degrees of strength that would be used if needed. He nodded to the physician.
The doctor took a second scalpel. This device was longer glowed bright pink. The surgeon used this knife to separate and pull back the skin exposing the organs beneath. The third instrument had a green hue. It had a small sphere positioned between two protruding arms. The sphere began to spin when lifted. The surgeon positioned the probe above the open chest cavity of the patient. He watched as the spinning ball speed up and slowed down showing a variety of colors and shapes. Each variation interpreted by the doctor who moved the device around like a magic wand divining the condition of the patient.
Hua T'o's hand stopped as the sphere's color darkened. He honed in on the source, the patient's spleen. He retracted the instrument and exchanged it for a forked device containing a small metallic net at the far end. The surgeon carefully snugged the instrument inside the patients body cavity angling his elbow high and working the tool until it enveloped the organ. He then triggered the mechanism and the net reached out and completely covered the patients spleen. The net then severed the connecting tissue and cauterized the wound allowing Hua T'o to lift the organ from the patient's body and place it on the tray. Again, with a small drop of blood which the nurse sponged away.
The surgeon then took a scalpel that resembled the cutting instrument. He looked to the anesthesiologist for a nod and continued. This device glowed blue at his touch. Hua T'o folded the patient's skin back around the patient's body cavity. He pulled the skin together in advance of the tip of the scalpel and it joined the two sides leaving no scar. When the incision was mended, with the drop of blood at the end, Hua T'o nodded to the anesthesiologist. The patient was offered another sip from a different tea pot. After the first drop hit his lips he awakened and finished the cup holding the cup in his hands. The patient then through his legs over the table and sat up.
Hua T'o, the anesthesiologist, and the nurse all bowed to the patient who hopped off the table and returned the gesture. The patient walked out of the room, followed by the anesthesiologist, the nurse, Hua T'o, and finally Phastos, who paused to take in the moment. This operation was the culmination of over two hundred years of work. It would advance human medicine thousands of years, saving millions of lives. Phastos left the operating theater.
Phastos entered the courtyard and looked up at the moon. The moon was the Eternal's timekeeper. Phase, position, and relative size as seen from Earth, all allowed them to calculate when and where they were in relationship to each other. It was the only metric that mattered. Phastos knew his cycle was ending. Each Eternal applied their specific skill set to the time, place, and culture they were inserted into. Phastos was pleased with his time hear and ready for a new challenge and a new people to inspire and cultivate. The new moon would see his replacement as his relief would arrive. Phastos slept well.
The Mooncake Festival was underway. Delicious cakes were given as gifts and exchanged. The archer was shooting down suns and preparing her journey to live eternally on the moon. Phastos reveled in the irony of culture imitating his very existence. Eternals existences are woven in and out of cultures all over the world. They are like a whisp of wind or a lap along the oceans. An undeniable part of existence, ever present, but just out of reach.
Phastos entered the field and waited. He found the distance from the crowd comforting. He wondered what his next task would be. He found it exhilarating to immerse himself in a culture assessing strengths and needs, helping them to apply his understanding and wisdom. He always tried to improve the human condition, after all, that's what they were sent to do.
The prevailing wind shifted, and a figure appeared in the distance. The figure walked toward Phastos. He recognized Ajak. They met and embraced. It had been more than two hundred years. In the Eternals life, only mere months.
"How has your life been?" Ajak said into Phaistos's ear.
"Rewarding, let me show you." He said as they broke away from each other.
They walked arm in arm back to the village. Phastos lead her back to the hospital. He showed her all the advancements; surgical tools crafted with great precision, advancements in herbology, the great book of "Shen Jie" capturing everything for their future. Phastos took Ajak to a small guarded room in the back of the hospital. He drew back a small curtain.
"This is our greatest achievement." Sitting on the shelf was a helmet. The helmet consisted of a mask with eye and mouth holes. The side flaps came down to completely cover the wearer's head. The metal laced with delicate metal inlays. Carvings on each side made with intricate precision.
"When I got here they had already made great strides in metaphysics. Their understanding of consciousness, and how it is manifest in the body. This device channels cosmic energy, what they have deemed 'dao'. This allows them to focus the energy inward and harmonize reification and spiritualism. They had all the principals, I just helped them realize them. This allows an individual to, in in effect, heal themselves." Phastos had trouble controlling his enthusiasm.
"These are wonderful advancements. They will allow humanity to step out of their dark times and enter a world of enlightenment. You have done wonderful work here." Ajak praised. "I must rest now. Tomorrow we will discuss the new world we are building."
They left the building and returned to their quarters. Phastos slept soundly.
… At first it sounded like a storm, wind, rain, and thunder. Phastos slowly began to wake and realize it was human sounds. They were under attack. Phastos went to find Ajak. She was standing in the open watching the carnage. Phastos stood in front of her.
"We have to do something." He pleaded.
"You know we cannot." She hung her head.
Phastos looked around in frustration. He saw not just friends, but generations die before him. He knew she was right. 'We must not interfere'. Phastos watched as his hospital was plundered and burned. Hundreds of years of advancement. Great strides in humanity, all evaporating to smoke and ash. The great book of "Shen Jie" in flames. The surgical instruments now puddles of metal on the ground, the helmet would be broken into pieces and kept as souvenirs by the victors.
"You knew this would happen!" Phastos lashed out at Ajak. "You brought them here. This is all your doing. You can't stand to see them advance without you. One day I will find a way. I will move them forward in spite of you and your ego." Ajak did not deny or renounce his words. They both watched as the civilization gave way to the warring horde.
"You must go now. I will stay and heal them." Ajak finally spoke.
Phastos did not return the comment. He walked into the darkness, never looking back.