Why had those words come back? Duncan did have it in for the Guidelines committee. He ranted against it at every opportuniry.
But at one time or another, Duncan ranted against just about everything and everyone in the government. That didn't mean he was waging war on it.
Did it?
She shuddered briefly. An absurd thought.
Not Duncan. Even if it were possible. And it wasn't. So why even consider it?
But come to think of it, Duncan had disappeared right after Senator Vincent's seizure. With no offer of help. Just like when Allard had fallen. No imagining there. Those were facts.
And they bothered her.
GINA FRIDAY GINA WAS BACK IN THE Lathram OFFICE. SHE D spent most of the morning assisting Duncan with a particularly difficult composite rhytidectomy, in which all the underlying facial tissues are lifted as one piece. Normally it would take five or six weeks for the facial swelling to resolve from such an extensive procedure. With the help of Oliver's implants, this particular sixty-two-year-old Washington doyenne would be back in the social whirl well before then.
Duncan had been in a particularly chipper mood through the surgery, humming, joking. "No jeremiads about the lamentable state of the nation today, ladies, " he'd said, sounding apologetic. No one had complained.
Later Gin wandered into Oliver's lab with a cup of coffee, looking to kill a little time before starting on her presurgical exams for next week's cases. She noticed he had a tray of large implants sitting on the counter. The empty syringe and the bottle of normal saline solution sitting next to the tray explained why the implants looked full.
Zt. , S She bent over the tray for a closer look. Were these the new model Oliver had mentioned? Looked just like the old model.
'"Hi there, Gin." She looked up. Oliver was coming through the doorway, pushing a wheeled cart ahead of him.
"What've you got there? " "An ultrasound unit." She gave it a closer look. Not the diagnostic or imaging kind used in pregnancy. This type was for deep-heating subcutaneous tissues. A big difference in power, The former measured output in megahertz, the latter in watts.
"Going into physical therapy as a sideline? " He chuckled. "No. Just testing out the latest batch of the new, improved implants. ' He'd lost her. "With ultrasound? " "Sure. Just give me a second to set up and I'll show you." He set the unit on the counter, plugged it in, adjusted a few dials, then picked up the handle.
' Watch." Oliver took the implant from the end of the row and moved it away from the rest, placing it on the counter a couple of feet from the tray. He positioned the ultrasound head over it and pressed the button on the handle. Immediately the implant began to quiver, an instant later it dissolved, leaving a spreading puddle on the counter.
He placed another implant in the puddle and held the ultrasound head farther back. The implant dissolved, the saline puddle enlarged.
He did this repeatedly, each time backing farther away with the handle, each time enlarging the puddle until finally it ran over the edge and dripped onto the floor.
Gin watched in wonder. "That's incredible, " she said.
She stepped to the counter for a closer look. Only minute shreds of the implant membranes remained floating in the puddle.
"How does it work? " '"I altered the crystal-protein matrix, " Oliver said as he unplugged the ultrasound unit. "I made it more stable, more resistant to the body's tissue enzymes, but I rigged it so that at a certain ultrasonic frequency, the crystals vibrate and dissolve the matrix. As a result, the implant membrane collapses and releases its contents."
"Brilliant."
"Duncan's idea, actually." Somewhere in the rear of Gin's mind, a bell chimed a sour note.
"Duncan's? " "Yes. He wants more control over when the implants dissolve. As he says, why leave the iming up to the vagaries of the circulatory system and the tissue enzymes? Let's develop implants that empty when we tell them to." She remembered what she'd said to Gerry after the Guidelines hearing earlier in the week. And not only can this miracle toxin do all these different things, but Duncan has such control over it that he can make it go into eMfert on command.
It had sounded so absurd then, but the means were staring her in the face.
"Is . . . is Duncan using these yet? " "Oh, no. The FDA approved us to do clinical trials with the original implants only." He flashed a smile. "The Original Recipe, you might say.
We'll have to go through the whole approval process again for the new membrane."
"Oh. So these are brand new." That's a relief, Duncan couldn't have used the new implants if they hadn't existed at the times of the surgeries.
But the relief was short-lived.
"Not really, " Oliver said. "I've been working on them for most of the year. And they're still not perfected yet." ie Gin swallowed.
"Looks like they work pretty well to me."
"Not good enough yet for Duncan. He wants a more stable membrane, one that will last almost indefinitely until hit with the right ultrasound frequency." "Do you see any clinical purpose in that? " Oliver shook his head.
"No. But Duncan's the doctor, not me. He knows what he wants." Gin helped Oliver mop up the saline with paper towels, but all the while her thoughts were looping in wild circles. She slowed them down, straightened them out. She had to approach this logically, like a diagnostic puzzle. Lay out the facts first, then draw conclusions.
All right, Duncan did have the means to implant a toxin of some sort inside his patients and release it at will.
No, not at will. He had to zap it with ultra-high-frequency sound.
If Duncan had been responsible for what had happened to Senator Vincent, he'd have had to wheel an ulttasound machine into the hearing room and point it at the senator.
Ridiculous.
Still, the ultrasound demonstration left a residue on her thoughts, a sour mental aftertaste.
She went looking for Duncan. She'd forgotten to check with him about putting in a few extra hours here until the hearings got underway again.
And she needed to talk to him, to reassure herself.
"Oh, he's gone, " Barbara told her as Gin went to knock on Duncan's office door.
"Out with the mysterious Dr. V. , I suppose? " "No. Dr. V.'s not due back for a while. Dr. D. said he was heading for the golf course.
" "Damn. I wanted to catch him before he left."
"He's not gone all that long. I'll try his car phone." Barbara punched in some numbers, waited, then hung up. "No luck there.
I can page him for you."
"No. I don't want him coming off the golf course just to talk to me.
It's not that imporrant. What's the number of his club? Maybe he's still in the clubhouse."
"Want me to call for you? " "No, thanks.
I'll call him myself." Barbara looked it up and wrote it down.
Gin used The records-room phone. First she tried The club dining room, but he wasn't there. Then she tried the pro shop. Maybe she could catch him before he started his round.
"Doc Lathram? " said the chief caddy. "Haven't got a tee time for him."
"Maybe he's playing with someone else."
"Maybe, but I ain't seen the Doc round here for months." '"Are you sure? " '"Missy, I'm here just hour every day. Doc Larhram's been a member here forever, but it must be six months since I put his bags on the back of a cart.
But if he shows up I'll give him a message if you want."
"No, " Gin said. "Never mind." What's that all about? she thought as she hung up. When he hasn't been bitching about the kakistocracy, it's been about his golf, his slice, his bogies, complaining about the condition of the greens.