Chapter #15Appointment with Dr. Strange, Part 2 by: Nostrum   Mireya gasped in relief. If what Dr. Gustavo said was true, if he at least knew why the bite of the basilisk was so difficult to treat: "Then, that means...!?" she exclaimed.
But Dr. Gustavo shook his head as he rose from his seat. "No, it won’t help us with treatment, but it gives us a chance to keep people alive once afflicted."
"Still!" Mireya’s voice quavered with unusual hope. "That... That’s good news, right?"
"To an extent, though such procedure would be...unsavory, at best." Dr. Gustavo paced the office as he explained. "The reason the venom is so daunting to treat is because it is no mere physical poison. It corrupts not only the imago but the essentia."
"Dr. Gus, explain it to me like if I were a chamaquita."
"You mean an escuincla, right?" Dr. Gustavo chuckled, genuinely, though it sounded forced somehow. "Imago relates to your body; your appearance, your physical traits. Essentia, on the other hand, is what makes you, you."
He thought a moment, then plunged into the familiar Spanish that he and Mireya shared.
"Lo que hace el basilisk venom," he continued, switching back into English without noticing after he had cleared the technical hurdles, "it makes the poison itself part of your imago at the metaphysical level, so that it cannot be cured by any medicine; la medicina tradicional no trastoca lo metafísico. It infects the essentia too, so that it becomes part of who you are, so it cannot be cut out without destroying that thing, la mera esencia, that makes you who you are."
He shrugged helplessly "In time," he concluded, "the body overworks itself trying to purge the venom, and it collapses. Total systemic shock."
Mireya stared blankly as she heard Dr. Gustavo’s nightmarish scenario. A venom that became a part of you. "But then... How do you stop it?"
"A unique form of coma. As you know, coma can be induced to allow the body to fight the infection, or enable its healing. What I suggest is separating the constituent metaphysical parts of the individual and treat them independently – an antitoxin that repairs the user’s imago, and a procedure to fix the corrupted essentia before the body enters systemic shock. But, while that happens, the best procedure would be..." Dr. Gustavo paused, glancing at Mireya with a tinge of curiosity. "You’ve heard of the legend of the Basilisk, right?"
"Dr. Gus, I know what a Basilisk can do."
"No, but I refer to its legend. Legends say that their eyes could petrify a hapless victim – that, of course, refers to the paralyzing effect of their gaze. However, a petrified individual would have its imago rewritten – flesh to stone, though keeping the same traits. Most importantly, petrifaction would potentially preserve essentia indefinitely. If we were to petrify the victim until a solution could be found--"
Mireya gawked at the solution. It was brilliant, but... "--they would be kept safe! But... Wouldn’t that be--?"
"Unethical? Would doing anything at your disposal to save the life of someone you care would be considered unethical?"
The answer would have to wait, as the intercom blared with Samaris’ voice. "Dr. Gustavo, tengo a alguien en la recepción que le busca, respecto a un paciente."
Dr. Gustavo picked up the phone. "Si. Si, le llame respecto a la condición del joven. Por favor, dígale que espere mientras termino con la visita. A usted." As he dropped the phone, the physician sighed and grasped his forehead. "I fear this conversation will have to wait. I have to attend someone regarding their family."
"Dr. Gus, you don’t take cases so lightly."
"This one is rather rare. Curiously enough, it was his arrival that gave me the idea on how to deal with the Basilisk venom. If I can reverse the situation--"
"May I ask the particulars?"
"I’m afraid I cannot speak of the names, but it’s a most intriguing case. A young man, roughly at his sixteen or seventeen years, in a most unusual case of coma. Stable, good vital signs, but... It’s as if his mind was gone. Reflexive mental functions work, but there is no mental activity suggesting thought. Normally, I would declare brain death, but after being stable for almost three years with no negative change. But it is another of our special cases, and Giuseppe brought him in person--"
"Giuseppe?" Mireya frowned. "You mean Frank?"
Now Dr. Gustavo frowned. The two stared at each other until the doctor groaned.
"I forget," he said. "What a ridiculous name. But the case came to me through him, yes. He put me in contact with another associate, one of his. Taylor Mitchell?"
Dr. Gustavo frowned at her, as though she might know the name, but Mireya shook her head.
"It seems that this young man isn’t a young man at all, but is really the petrified remains of a much older man, with some sort of artifact – a ‘mask’ – that altered its shape to assume that form."
Dr. Gustavo dapped his forehead, and even behind his stoic manner Mireya could detect a sense of excitement.
"There is a young man, a member of the family, who knows all about the case – the realities behind it, I mean – who is handling the transfer. I take it must be the young man that arrived. If I were to understand what caused this condition, and perhaps replicate the process in order to understand its function..."
"Dr. Gus..."
"Mireya, think of the possibilities!" Dr. Gustavo exploded in a very rare show of emotion. "If we could reproduce the process after learning how to reverse it, we could find a way to stabilize near-death and terminal individuals until such a time when their conditions are finally treatable!"
"Reproduce it?" Mireya asked. "You mean you would ... petrify these people?"
Dr. Gustavo stepped closer to her. She twitched a little.
"Mireya," he said, "you know me. I wouldn’t cross the line if it would cause irreversible damage. It would be a breakthrough unlike anything you could imagine!"
"And a way to fix your only failure, right?" Mireya replied bitterly.
"And a way to rectify for being unable to save her." Dr. Gustavo’s stoic expression twisted into a façade of worry. "A way for us to save those that she sacrificed her life to."
Mireya broke into tears. Dr. Gustavo’s words struck her deeply. She collapsed into the chair, only to feel a small hand grasping her shoulder, and the sadness washing away. She looked up at Dr. Gustavo, a mixture of emotions muted in her face. "You... You did it again, right?"
"I’m sorry if I forced my methods upon you, but this is not the place and time to cry, Mireya. Go to your room, wherever you stay, and cry all you need. These are tough news to deal with, and you’ll need the solace of solitude to handle them. I simply balanced your humors, but the effect will only last an hour. After that, your emotions--"
"Will return like the tide. I’m aware of that, Dr. Gus." She stood up, rubbing her face. "Thanks."
"Again, my deepest apologies. And I truly hope this case allows us to save more people." Dr. Gustavo wrapped his arm behind Mireya’s back, leading her outside. "It was a pleasure to meet you again, Mireya. Let me escort you to the door."
"A pleasure to meet you again. And, thanks for the update, Dr. Gus. I’ll keep you informed if I manage to get one--"
Mireya stopped as she saw Dr. Gustavo’s guest. The same straw-like hair falling from his head and reaching his shoulders, scrawny whiskers finally turning into a proper mustache and beard, and same glint of mischief in his eyes, tempered by even greater maturity.
She could only wonder. What did Jeff Harrison have to do with Dr. Gustavo’s patient?  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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