Riley Part 1
A strangely smooth-skinned man watched the surgical procedure begin. His eyes glowed a deep green in the fluorescent light. On the opposite side of a clear plexiglas window, his most recently acquired employee was prostrate on a surgical table, technicians and two robot manipulator arms surrounding her in a complex synchronized dance.
The patient, a woman, was not anesthetized in the traditional sense. She was simply unable to feel that her inner ears were slowly being replaced. At the beginning of the surgery, a robot arm equipped with a micro-dermal laser had sliced through her skin right below the ear and blocked the necessary nerves on each side of her head. The technicians had given her the option of watching the procedure, but she had declined and was instead reading a book with the aid of a page-turning assistant.
Several days earlier, the chief technician at the clinic had been asked to meet with an anonymous person who was inquiring about a new cochlear replacement procedure the center had just perfected. This was a somewhat odd request, given the location of the clinic, not to mention that there had been no publicity of the procedure in the medical journals, much less the media.
He had been very surprised at the restaurant when the smooth-skinned man appeared. His skin was not nearly as surprising as his request: the procedure needed to be performed 17 times over the next five days. The patients? All women, all between the ages of 24 and 27.
Dr. Hideo Morotani had performed some unusual services in his 15-year medical career since leaving residency at Stanford, but this one topped all the others, even the Columbian drug lord who had two men flown to the clinic specifically to have their hearing damaged beyond repair.
His new customer had brought a suitcase full of persuasion, and the arrangements were made. Later that afternoon, the first patient arrived at the center in a non-descript gray sedan. Standing in the doorway, the doctor idly wondered if this was a government operation, then terminated that train of thought. The money was good enough that he could retire afterwards, if he wished. At this point it didn’t matter where the money came from.
The patients were all peculiarly similar, as if they had been cloned from a popular sitcom. They each said little, preferring to read at all times unless they had to answer direct questions from technicians or lawyers.
As the last procedure continued, Dr. Morotani entered the viewing room and walked up to his customer. “The patient is doing fine. We should be complete in less than a half hour.�
“Splendid,� the enigmatic man replied. He had yet to give any identifying name. Morotani thought of him as “Mr. Skin.�
“Sir,� the doctor continued, “there is naturally the matter of final payment…�
“The money has been deposited in the accounts that we discussed. You will also find a substantial extra sum in your personal account. Consider it a bonus for a job well done.�
“Thank you, sir. It has been a pleasure to accommodate you, although you must know that I am overwhelmed with curiosity about these patients.�
“I can ensure you, Doctor, that in the coming years you will become very aware of each one. At this point, all I can tell you is that their new ears will be put to some very beneficial uses.�
“How will I become aware of them?� the doctor asked. Mr. Skin turned and looked directly at Dr. Morotani. His hazel eyes seemingly altered themselves to a deep green shade. “Trust me, Doctor. You will not be able to avoid it once things progress to that stage.�
As he looked directly into the face of his benefactor, the doctor experienced a strange chill. How old was this man? He had the serene confidence of someone well into his ninth decade. The strange skin on his face betrayed nothing of his age.
Several silent minutes passed. Through the glass, the robot arms went still and the woman sat up.
“Ah, I see that Katya is ready. Thank you, Doctor, this has been a most pleasant undertaking. Allow me to present you with this token of my gratitude.�
In his left hand was a business card. He gave it to the doctor, who bowed formally and wished his customer a good day. Mr. Skin and Katya walked out of the viewing room and into the fading Nevada sunlight.
Returning to his office, Dr. Morotani examined the card closely. Slightly thicker than a normal card, it displayed a single sentence in elegant script: “These things must endure.� He flipped the card over, but the reverse side was blank. As he turned the card back, the sentence faded from view and was replaced by an animated scene.
The doctor had never seen anything like it. The animation showed an ancient forest of giant trees, thrusting high enough to create their own clouds. Weather systems flowed through the forest and created miniature rain showers. The entire scene seemed never to repeat. As he watched, the seasons changed. Trees grew, some fell. Birds nested in the upper branches. Streams coursed through the forest. Sunlight filtered through the clouds and trees in a varying range of magical color.
Almost an hour later, the doctor managed to lift his gaze from the card. He was crying.
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