Authors: Anne McCaffrey
“It’s enough for you to be comfortably placed if you were still unclaimed,” Harlan explained, then his eyes twinkled wickedly. “It also provides that, if you die while you are unclaimed, the income devolves to your issue until they reach their majority.”
I glared at him. I had a lot to figure out about the complicated marital and extramarital and post-, pre-, and ante-marital mores of this world where women are expected to produce children and no one asks who is the father.
“However, you are very much claimed and I will provide for your issue, making certain it is all mine.”
I held him off for he started to wrestle me and I didn’t want to be diverted quite yet from this subject.
“Are you rich, Harlan?”
“Yes, I guess so,” he said. “I have the family holdings, of course, as my mother is dead. There are the prerogatives and privileges of my position. I haven’t used much of my income and neither has Jokan. I had intended,” and he grinned one-sidedly at me, “to finance a private expedition. However, my lady Sara,” and his smile broadened, “as usual, chose to come from a very interesting planet so Lothar is the outfitter.”
“Then, with that settled, I’ll go out tomorrow and spend it all on my back,” I declared.
“I like your back the way it is right now,” Harlan murmured and he started to make love. A thrifty man, Harlan.
At any rate, while Harlan was on his way to Tane, I took my slate to his estate agent. This gentleman, one Lorith, was very polite and helpful. I was extremely pleased with myself that I made no blunders in our interview over matters I should have understood. One thing, however, I decided I must get Harlan to do immediately on his return from Tane was to teach me how to write at least my own name. Lorith would start the proceedings to secure the grant, but there would be many things for my signature in a few days.
Consequently I was not in the least apprehensive the next morning when Lesatin asked me to attend an informal meeting in his chambers.
I had not expected, considering the wording of his invitation, to see the large committee room filled with Councilmen, including four of the Elder Seven and a woman and seven doctors, by their overdress. I was also surprised to see Ferrill enter. He nodded to me and sat beside me at one end of the large room.
Lesatin was scanning the faces of the assembled when Monsorlit entered. I glanced, apprehensive for the first time, at Ferrill. He smiled noncommittally and I settled back, reassured. As far as I could tell, Monsorlit did not so much as glance in my direction. The woman, however, constantly looked at me.
“We are met today to assess accusations made against Physician Monsorlit,” Lesatin began in a formal opening of the session. “These charges include complicity with the archtraitor Gorlot in the genocide of the Tanes; furnishing drugs capable of inhibiting and demoralizing certain officials in our government and . . .” Lesatin glanced at his note slate, “illicit surgery.”
I pulled at Ferrill’s arm nervously. Illicit surgery meant restoration. Monsorlit was unruffled by these charges and Ferrill only patted my hand.
Lesatin first called various hospital officials and technicians who had been in charge of the victims taken off Tane. They testified that the early wounded to arrive at the hospital were invariably in some stage of paralytic cerolosis. Cerol, in unadulterated form, could produce total paralysis of the body and its functions, resulting in death. Complete and immediate blood transfusions would lessen its deadly effects, but too often brain and nerve centers were affected. Monsorlit had developed a series of cold and hot baths as shock treatments, a radical new approach in Lotharian medical practice, to rouse the sluggish, cerolized areas. Two physicians who testified did not entirely approve of such a rigorous course of treatment although they admitted Monsorlit’s techniques effected partial cures that were considered miracles. Patients were able to do for themselves, perform simple duties and relieve society of the burden of their care.
Yes, it had been Monsorlit’s idea to place a hospital ship so near the Tane planets for prompter care of the injured. No, they could not say that any of the men appeared to have been restored. Of course, at that time, no one looked for such evidence because no one had realized that the Mil were in any way involved. Yes, they had heard Monsorlit use the expression “repossessed” often. One surgeon had called him to account because of the word’s unfortunate similarity with the unpopular practice of restoration. Monsorlit had replied that the men were actually repossessed, repossessed of their faculties disabled by cerol.
Had Monsorlit practiced any total restorations since the edict against it? Yes, two operations had been performed with official sanction on burn victims in a satellite yard fire. What were the results? A reconstruction so perfect as to defy detection.
I found myself unconsciously stroking one wrist and hastily clasped my hands firmly together. Looking up, I was aware of Monsorlit’s eyes on me. He had caught my gesture and smiled slightly.
I knew then that he had merely bided his time. That I had been foolish to think myself immune. I wondered if he had planned this trial to coincide with Harlan’s absence. I hoped desperately that someone else beside myself could incriminate him; that his own preference for life would keep him from disclosing my restoration.
Lesatin continued his investigation with further questions about the illegal restoration.
Was it possible that total restoration could be detected? Only by a check of cell coding within a month of restoration and, even so, there would still be room for doubt.
Lesatin asked for an explanation of cell coding. It was so long and technically detailed I paid no attention.
“I fail to understand its application to restoration,” Lesatin prompted patiently.
Before restorations had been ruled illegal twenty-five years ago, intensive research had tried to perfect ways in which a total body graft could be undetected. It had been felt that the unsightly scars at wrist, ankle and neckline contributed to the revulsion caused by restorees. A high fever was induced in the patient by a virus injection for the purpose of changing the cell coding of the body so that it would accept new skin from any donor. The new skin would bond properly, assimilating and overgrowing what original epidermis remained, leaving undetectable the restoration.
Well, that explained the golden tinge to my skin, I thought. I’d wondered how they’d accomplished that.
In cases of plastic surgery, this technique was often applied with detection-defying results.
I managed to keep my hand from my nose.
Lesatin continued doggedly. Was it possible for any of the so-called Tane wounded to have been restorees? Possible, but not probable, for the men admitted to the War Hospital had been unquestionably suffering from acute cerolosis. Most were now able to take care of themselves and were employed in routine jobs. By common definition, they could not be restorees, as it was well known that a restoree was incapable of any independent action.
Crewmen on the hospital ship that Monsorlit had sent out were questioned. They gave detailed descriptions of cases they had handled. They confirmed in every way the information already given.
Lesatin paused and then asked several men how long they had worked for Monsorlit. They had, without exception, been trained by the physician, had served him since their certification and were, admittedly and vehemently, loyal to him. Lesatin dismissed them, having made a point.
From Lesatin’s questioning and bland manner there was no indication whether he was out to clear Monsorlit or convict him. But I knew clearly what I would do. I would speak out against Monsorlit. I would tell them he had perfected the drug that had been used on Harlan and the others. I would tell them all I knew and remove Monsorlit from a position in which he could threaten and terrify me.
Lesatin issued an order I didn’t overhear and the side door opened to admit a chained, shrunken, groveling Gleto, flanked by two strong guards.
Lesatin turned to Monsorlit with an apologetic gesture.
“This is one of your accusers, physician,” he said. “Gleto has sworn that you developed the drug, cerol, into several compounds which were used to depress Harlan, Japer, Lamar, Sosit, to name only a few. That you were completely aware of the perfidy against the Tane race and knew that the supposed casualties you handled in your hospital were victims of the skirmishes with the Mil ships. That you have actually performed illegal restorations to cover evidences of Gorlot’s treachery.”
Lesatin smiled deprecatingly and he was joined by the four Elders who were plainly telling Monsorlit that the source of these accusations was very suspect.
“Gleto has also gone on to insist that your personal fortune has swelled to enormous proportions. That you have secretly continued your abominable research on human beings.”
Monsorlit nodded calmly. It was well known that Gleto’s personal fortune had also swelled to enormous proportions. The physician arose and presented a thick pile of slates to the first Councilman at the table.
“Sealed and documented records of all my personal financial affairs,” he said. “I beg pardon for such a bulky package but my income is heavily involved with my experimental work at the Mental Clinic.”
Lesatin acknowledged this and motioned the Councilmen to examine the slates.
“As to the secret and abominable research on humans,” Monsorlit continued, addressing the Councillors, “my colleagues will tell you that some of my work is done in secret, behind closed doors and the results are in locked files. That is the only way to protect the privacy of our patients, some of whom are well placed in life, despite their inner uncertainties. Yes, the research we have been conducting lately might once have been called abominable, but the results have been a return to health for many. Very often a medicine tastes abominably, but that does not mean its efficacy is affected.”
He spoke so glibly, his explanations so pat, yet nothing he had said sounded rehearsed or insincere.
“As to my developing cerol compounds, I could scarcely deny so well publicized a fact,” and Monsorlit smiled pleasantly. “My laboratories have been aware of its effectiveness . . . if properly and abstemiously used . . . in restraining mental cases, in the stimulation of certain muscular centers, in . . . ways too numerous to list. It is a remarkably versatile base for a wide range of uses. It will be some time before we reach the end of its potentialities.
“But, as the man who invented our slates cannot control what we, centuries later, write upon them, I cannot control the uses to which the discoveries in our laboratories have been put,” and with a shrug Monsorlit resumed his seat.
Lesatin exchanged low comments with several of the Councillors.
“Did you, physician, at any time suspect you were being used by Gorlot to cover up his treachery against the Tane?”
That to me was the silliest question yet. But Monsorlit considered it gravely before answering.
“I am not a politician, gentlemen, but a serious scientist. It was my duty under Regent Gorlot to perform such services as he required of me in my capacity as Head Physician of the War Hospital. If I had any doubts as to the authenticity of the afflictions, I had little time to pursue them due to the extreme pressure of work and the speed with which it is necessary to treat acute cerolosis.”
“Does not acute cerolosis parallel the symptoms of restoration madness in so far as the mental processes of the patient are concerned?” snapped Lesatin.
I gasped and so did others at the sting of the question. But it reassured me that Lesatin must be after Monsorlit.
Monsorlit pondered this question calmly.
“Yes, it does,” he said deliberately, still in thought. “There is an absolute paralysis of mental centers, sluggish reactions, no independent action. But, as you gentlemen are aware, the shock treatments we have used have brought the patients back to as normal a pursuit of life as possible, considering the irreparable damage done by the cerol in some cases.”
There was an unfinished quality to his statement that reached me if no one else.
“You are noted for your skill in restoration, Physician Monsorlit,” Lesatin continued. Monsorlit accepted the implied compliment as his just due. “Are there other surgeons today capable of such technical perfection?”
“If you mean partial restorations due to common accidents, yes. My techniques, as published in the Medical Library, are effective for partial as well as complete restorations. I could name dozens of surgeons capable of performing undetectable restorations. Partial ones, of course.”
“Could Physician Trenor perform undetectable restoration?”
Everyone waited for Monsorlit’s reply and again I wondered if Lesatin were for or against Monsorlit.
“It is entirely possible although I have never observed the physician in question in the operating arena.”
Had it been Trenor all along and not Monsorlit? Had I been mistaken? No, no, that wasn’t possible. Something vital assured me of that.
“Thank you, physician.” Lesatin consulted his slate. “May I call the Lady Sara?”
I stood up nervously.
“You were Lord Harlan’s attendant during his . . . stay at the asylum, weren’t you?”
I confirmed this.
“Monsorlit was Harlan’s physician, I believe,” and Lesatin looked first at Monsorlit, who confirmed this and then at me. “Did he attend Harlan at the sanitarium?”
“Yes.”
Lesatin knew this, for he was referring to slates he must have made during the inquiry Stannall conducted.
“Did you ever have occasion to suspect Harlan was being mistreated? Drugged into insensibility, rather than helped to regain his sanity?”
“Yes, I did.”
“What aroused your suspicions?”
“A conversation between Gleto and . . . Monsorlit,” I announced, looking accusingly at the physician who merely watched.
“Really?” Lesatin appeared sincerely surprised. “Can you remember this conversation?”
“Yes, I most certainly can. Gleto had called Monsorlit to examine Harlan because he was afraid Harlan would revive from the drug,”