the very few times in his life David had lied to Debra, telling her he
was meeting with the Morgan Trust accountants, and he had left her in a
lime-green bikini lying beside the hotel swimming pool, brown and slim
and lovely in the sunlight.
Ruby Friedman was brusque and businesslike. He seated them opposite his
desk and came swiftly to the core of the business.
Gentlemen, he said. We have a problem, a hell of a problem. I am going
to show you the X-ray plates first to illustrate what I have to tell you
- Ruby swivelled his chair to the scanner and switched on the book-light
to bring the prints into high relief. On this side are the plates that
Edelman sent me from Jerusalem. You can see the grenade fragment. It
was stark and hard edged, a small triangular shard of steel lying in the
cloudy bone structure. And here you can see the track through, the
optic chiasma, the disruption and shattering of the bone is quite
evident. Edelman's original diagnosis, based on these plates, and on
the complete inability to define light or shape, seems to be confirmed.
The optic nerve is severed, and that's the end of it. Quickly he
unclipped the plates, and fitted others to the scanner. All right.
Now here are the second set of plates, taken yesterday.
Immediately notice how the grenade fragment has been consolidated and
encysted. The stark outline was softened by the new growth of bone
around it. That is good, and expected. But here in the channel of the
chiasma we find the growth of some sort that leaves itself open to a
number of interpretations. It could be scarring, the growth of bone
chips, or some other type of growth either benign or malignant. Ruby
arranged another set of plates upon the scanner. Finally, this is the
plate exposed by the technique of tomography, to establish the contours
of this excrescence. It seems to conform to the shape of the bony
channel of the chiasma, except here, Ruby touched a small half-round
notch which was cut into the upper edge of the growth, - this little
spot runs through the main axis of the skull, but is bent upwards in the
shape of an inverted U. It is just possible that this may be the most
significant discovery of our whole examination. Ruby switched off the
light of the scanner.
I don't understand any of this, the Brig's voice was sharp. He did not
like being bludgeoned by another man's special knowledge.
No, of course. Ruby was smooth. I am merely setting the background for
the explanations that will follow. He turned back to the desk, and his
manner changed. He was no longer lecturing, but leading with authority.
Now as to my own conclusions. There can be absolutely no doubt that
certain function of the optic nerve remains. It is still conveying
impulses to the brain. At least a part of it is still intact. The
question arises as to just how much that is, and to what extent that
function can be improved. it is possible that the grenade fragment cut
through part of the nerve, severing five strands of a six-strand rope,
or four or three. We do not know the extent, but what we do know is
that damage of that nature is irreversible. What Debra may be left with
is what she has now, almost nothing. Ruby paused and was silent. The
two men opposite him watched his face intently, leaning forward in their
seats.
That is the dark side, if it is true, then Debra is for all practical
purposes blind and will remain that way.
However, there is another side to the question. It is possible that the
optic nerve has suffered little damage, or none at all, please God Then
why is she blind? David asked angrily. He felt baited, driven by
words, goaded like the bull from so long ago. You can't have it both
ways. Ruby looked at him, and for the first time saw beyond that blank
mask of scarred flesh and realized the pain he was inflicting, saw the
hurt in the dark eyes, blue as rifle steel.
Forgive me, David. I have been carried away by the intriguing facts of
this case, seeing it from my own academic point of view rather than
yours, I'm afraid. I will come to it now without further hedging. He
leaned back in his chair and went on speaking. You recall the notch in
the outline of the chiasma. Well, I believe that is the nerve itself,
twisted out of position, kinked and pinched like a garden hose by bone
fragments and the pressure of the metal fragment so that it is no longer
capable of carrying impulses to the brain. 'The blows on her temple -?
'David asked.
Yes. Those blows may have been just sufficient to alter the position of
the bone fragments, or of the nerve itself, so as to enable the passage
of a minimal amount of impulse to the brain, like the garden hose,
movement could allow a little water to pass through but still hold back
any significant flow, but once the twist is straightened the full volume
of flow would be regained. They were all silent then, each of them
considering the enormity of what they had heard.
The eyes, the Brig said at last. They are healthy? Perfectly, Ruby
nodded.
How could you find out, I mean, what steps would you take next? David
asked quietly.
There is only one way. We would have to go to the site of the trauma.
Operate? David asked again.
Yes.
Open Debra's skull? The horror of it showed only in his eyes.
Yes, Ruby nodded.
Her head, David's own flesh quailed in memory of the ruthless knife. He
saw the lovely face mutilated and the pain in those blind eyes. Her
face - His voice shook now. No, I won't let you cut her. I won't let
you ruin her, like they have me David! The Brig's voice cracked like
breaking ice, and David sank back in his chair.
I understand how you feel, Ruby spoke gently, his voice in contrast to
the Brig's. But we will go in from behind the hairline, there will be
no disfigurement. The scar will be covered by her hair when it grows
out, and the incision will not be very large anyway - I won't have her
suffer more. David was trying to control his voice, but the catch and
break were still in it. She has suffered enough, can't you see that, We
are talking about giving her back her sight the Brig broke in again. His
voice was hard and cold. A little pain is a small price to pay for
that.
There will be very little pain, David. Less than an appendectomy. Again
they were silent, the two older men watching the younger in the agony of
his decision.
What are the chances? David looked for help, wanting the decision made
for him, wanting it taken out of his hands.
That is impossible to say. Ruby shook his head.
Oh God, how can I judge if I don't know the odds? David cried out.
All right. Let me put it this way, there is a possibility, not
probability, that she may regain a useful part of her sight. Ruby chose
his words with care. And there is a remote possibility that she may
regain full vision or almost full vision. That is the best that can
happen. David agreed. But what is the worst? The worst that can
happen is there will be no change.
She will have undergone a deal of discomfort and pain to no avail. David
jumped out of his chair and crossed to the windows.
He stared out at the great sweep of bay where the tankers lay moored and
the far hills of the Tygerberg rose smoky blue to the brilliant sky.