Truly amazing." Duncan refrained from reacting to the man's condescension and continued inspecting the hairline incisions under The chin through an illuminated magnifier. Yes, the beta-3 was doing its work. Only a week post-op and, except for some fading ecchymosis, virtually all traces of the procedure were gone.
Too bad I coaldn't have done the Hogg reconstrsction. Then you'd really be amazed.
Sometime since the surgery, Vincent had had his hair per med. It stuck out from his head in frizzy tendrils, making him look like one of those Chi Pets they hawked on TV.
Duncan backed up, examined Vincent's throat from the left, then the right. "Damn, I do good work! " Vincent laughed nervously. "So I guess it will be safe to go on TV next week." "Oh? " Duncan said with all the ingenuousness he could muster. "Face the Nation? " '"No.
More important. The hearings. On the Guidelines bill."
"Next week?
I didn't realize you'd be getting started so soon."
"Oh, yes. We're pressing on without Lane and Allard. The first hearing is Wednesday.
" Got your sights set on any particular targets? Duncan wondered.
Who's life are you going to ruin this time around?
"You know, " Duncan said slowly, "I've never been to one of these hearings. Do you think you could get me in to the opening session? " Senator Vincent scratched his head. "I don't know. It's a pretty hot ticket. And the hearing room's not that big . . . " "Well, I have other patients on the committee who'll take care of it.
No problem."
"You do? " the senator said, his tone warbling between pique at Duncan's implication that there was someone on the committee with more juice than he and voracious curiosity as to who else was getting fixed up for the hearings. "Who? " Duncan wagged a finger.
"Now, now. You should know that's privileged information."
"Yes, of course. But if you truly want a seat, Dr. Lathram, you've got one.
I'll have my legislative director call you tomorrow. No problem. " '"Thank you, Senator. I knew I could count on you. It promises to be quite a show. And I bet yours will be a household name from the very first day." I guarantee it.
* * * Later, Duncan stopped by Oliver's lab. He had to get down to D.
C.
General for The surgery on little Kanesha Green, but first he wanted to check his brother's progress on the latest refinement of the implant.
\ He found Oliver seated with a number of empty implants in a tray on the counter before him. He handed one to Duncan who rolled it back and forth in his palm. Light as a feather.
Duncan said, "How long can we count on the new model to sit in the subcutaneous fat without dissolving? " Oliver shrugged. "How can I say? Six months, two years, forever. We haven't tested them. We'll have to do animal studies. I mean, really, Duncan, we haven't even finished the clinical trials on the regular implants, and here you've got me working on a whole new type."
"Got to stay ahead, Oliver. If we don't keep innovating, the intellectual slovens and me-too artists will plunder our work."
"But why this new model? I thought the whole idea was to have it dissolve shortly after surgery."
"Because I foresee a time when I may want an implant that dissolves when I tell it to. In trauma cases, for instance, with wide, deep wounds, premature release of beta-3 could prove counterproductive." He had to choose his words carefully. Oliver was bright but he hadn't the faintest idea what lay behind Duncan's insistence on an implant that would dissolve on command, and no inkling of what Duncan had already done with it.
Duncan flipped the empty implant into the air and caught it.
"But you do think it's possible one of these things could nest in the fat for a couple of years? " "I guess so. But I couldn't imagine why anyone would want it to sit there that long. The time when its dissolution would be of any benefit would have long since passed. " Not exactly, Duncan thought. Not if it was filled with the right substance and hidden in the tissues of the right person.
"Just wondering, " Duncan said.
Oliver's eyes lit. "But you mentioned trauma repair. Are you thinking of returning to real surgery? " Duncan laughed. "You mean vascular surgery? God, no. Why would I want to go back to being on call twenty-four hours a day and getting rousted out of bed at all hours of the night? For what? What good would that do me? " "You're a great surgeon, Duncan. You'd be putting your talents to their best use. It wouldn't just be good for others, it would be good for you as well. " Moved by his brother's concern, and afraid Oliver might see something in his eyes that he shouldn't, Duncan looked away. Oliver was a good soul, the most decent of men. Complaisant, assiduous Oliver, his irenic presence, his lambent insight were a balm on Ouncan's soul.
And he so admires me.
At times like these Duncan hated himself for putting Oliver's discovery to uses that would horrify him. And Duncan himself was horrified by the knowledge that if his machinations were ever brought to light, Oliver's fulgent, indefectible character would be tainted.
But that doesn't stop me, does it.
Again he wondered what he'd do if Oliver found out. Or Gin. How far would he go to protect himself?
He tried not to think about it.
"Why would it be good for me, Oliver? You know what happened when I was in vascular surgery. The same thing might happen again. Why should I make myself vulnerable again? Look at me now. I'm working fewer hours, I have no calls to speak of, whoever heard of an emergency tummy tuck in the middle of the night? I'm earning far more now with half the effort."
"You never cared about money."
"The public did.
' "And you were saving lives then."
"But while I was saving or improving all those lives, I was publicly stoned for unalloyed greed.
Remember that time, Oliver? Remember? ' Oliver nodded. "I remember.
" "Now I rake in seven figures simply for resuscitating the vanity of the local gentry, and no one says a word. No one even lifts an eyebrow.
Truly we live in a remarkable society, Oliver. A remarkable society.
" What a world, Duncan thought, straining to hide the lava of rage erupting in his chest, flowing through his gut. What a goddamn world.
Oliver was staring at him. "You shouldn't have let them drive you out, Duncan." '"Now, now, Oliver. We've been over this countless times.
I those to leave vascular surgery. And it's the best thing I ever did.
" "But you could have gone into another surgical field where your work actually meant something."
"But you had this new membrane you'd discovered, and then the Brits came up with beta-3. The writing was on the wall, cosmetic surgery was it. ' Actually, he had decided never again to deal with insurance companies, or governments, or any mixture of the two. Cosmetic surgery was perfect.
Only a rare insurance policy covered it anyway, and he could limit his patients to those who wanted it and exclude those who needed it.
"If that's the case, " Oliver said, "then I wish I'd never developed this membrane." Duncan gripped his brother's shoulder. "Don't ever say that, Oliver.
These implants are going to transform a host of lives. People all over the world, mothers of children who'd otherwise be scarred for life will bless your name. And as for me, I've made peace with the past. Trust me, Oliver. I'm at peace."
"I hope so, " Oliver said, searching Duncan's face. "I find it hard to believe, but I hope it's true." Duncan glanced at his watch. "Oops.
Time to run. Got to get over to the club." Oliver's expression was dismayed. "You can't play golf today. It's pouring. ' '"Poker, Oliver, " he said, nudging his brother's ribs. "When it rains we play poker. Want to join in? " '"No, " he sighed, turning back to his implants. "I've got work to do.