Robin Cook - Acceptable Risk

I remain your friend and neighbor, Thomas Goodman.

“These poor people,” Kim murmured. This letter came the closest to anything she’d read so far in communicating to her the personal horror of the Salem witch ordeal, and Kim felt empathy for all involved. She could tell that Thomas was confused and dismayed at being caught between friendship and what he thought was the truth. And Kim’s heart went out to poor Elizabeth, who’d been rendered out of her mind with the mold to the point of terrorizing her own children. It was easy for Kim to understand how the seventeenth-century mind would have ascribed such horrifying and inexplicable behavior to witchcraft.

In the middle of Kim’s empathy she realized that the letter presented something new and disturbing. It was the mention of blood with its implication of violence. Kim didn’t even want to imagine what Elizabeth could have been doing in the shed with the livestock, yet she had to admit it might be significant.

Kim looked back at the letter. She reread the sentence where Thomas described that all the livestock was safe despite the presence of blood. That seemed confusing unless Elizabeth had done something to herself. The thought of self-mutilation made Kim shudder. Its possibility was enhanced by Thomas’s mention of droplets of blood on the floor in the house. But the blood in the house was mentioned in the same sentence with broken objects, suggesting the blood could have come from an inadvertent wound.

Kim sighed. Her mind was a jumble, but one thing was clear. The effect of the fungus was now associated with violence, and Kim thought that was something Edward and the others should know immediately.

Clutching the letter, Kim hastened from the castle and half-ran to the lab. She was out of breath when she entered. She was also immediately surprised: she’d walked into the middle of a celebration.

Everyone greeted Kim with great merriment, pulling her over to one of the lab benches where they had uncorked a bottle of champagne. Kim tried to refuse a beakerful but they wouldn’t hear of it. Once again she felt as if she were with a bunch of frolicsome collegians.

As soon as Kim was able, she worked her way over to Edward’s side to ask him what was going on.

“Eleanor, Gloria, and François have just pulled off an amazing feat of analytic chemistry,” Edward explained. “They’ve already determined the structure of one of Ultra’s binding proteins. It’s a huge leap forward. It will allow us to modify Ultra if need be or to design other possible drugs that will bind at the same site.”

“I’m happy for you,” Kim said. “But I want to show you something that I think you ought to see.” She handed him the letter.

Edward quickly scanned the letter. When he looked up at Kim he winked at her. “Congratulations,” he said. “This is the best one yet.” Then, turning to the group he called out: “Listen up, you guys. Kim has found the greatest bit of proof that Elizabeth had been poisoned with the fungus. It will be even better than the diary entry for the article for Science.

The researchers eagerly gathered around. Edward gave them the letter and encouraged them all to read it.

“It’s perfect,” Eleanor said, passing it on to David. “It even mentions she’d been eating. It’s certainly a graphic description how fast the alkaloid works. She’d probably just taken a bite of bread.”

“It’s a good thing you eliminated that hallucinogenic side-chain,” David said. “I wouldn’t want to wake up and find myself out with the cows.”

Everyone laughed except Kim. She looked at Edward and, after waiting for him to stop laughing, asked him if the suggestion of violence in the letter bothered him.

Edward took the letter back and read it more carefully. “You know, you have a good point,” he told Kim when he was finished the second time. “I don’t think I should use this letter for the article after all. It might cause some trouble we don’t need. A few years ago there was an unfortunate rumor fanned by TV talk shows that associated Prozac with violence. It was a problem until it was debunked statistically. I don’t want anything like that to happen to Ultra.”

“If the unaltered alkaloid caused violence, it had to have been the same side chain that caused the hallucinations,” Gloria said. “You could mention that in the article.”

“Why take the chance?” Edward said. “I don’t want to give some rabid journalist even a tidbit that might raise the specter of violence.”

“Perhaps the concern for violence should be included in the clinical protocols,” Kim suggested. “Then if the question ever were to arise, you’d already have data.”

“You know, that’s a damn good idea,” Gloria said.

For several minutes the group favorably discussed Kim’s suggestion. Encouraged that people were listening to her, she suggested they should include short-term-memory lapses as well. To make her case she cited Edward’s recent episodes.

Edward laughed good-naturedly along with everyone else. “So what if I brush my teeth twice?” he said, bringing on more laughter.

“I think including short-term-memory loss in the clinical protocols is an equally good idea as including violence,” Curt said. “David’s been similarly forgetful. I’ve noticed, since we’re immediate neighbors in the castle.”

“You should talk,” David said with a chuckle. He then told the group that just the night before, Curt had called his girlfriend twice because he’d forgotten he’d called her the first time.

“I bet that went over well with her,” Gloria said.

Curt gave David a playful punch in the shoulder. “The only reason you noticed was because you’d done the exact same thing the night before with your wife.”

As Kim watched Curt and David playfully spar, she noticed Curt’s hands and fingers were marred by cuts and scratches. Her reflex response as a nurse was one of concern. She offered to look at them.

“Thank you, but they aren’t as bad as they look,” Curt said. “They don’t bother me in the slightest.”

“Did you fall off your motorcycle?”

Curt laughed. “I hope not,” he said. “I don’t remember how I did it.”

“It’s an occupational hazard,” David said, showing his hands, which appeared similar although not as bad. “It just proves we’re all working our fingers to the bone.”

“It’s the pressure of working nineteen hours a day,” François said. “It’s amazing we have been functioning as well as we have.”

“It seems to me that short-term-memory loss must be a side effect of Ultra,” Kim said. “It sounds like you all are experiencing it.”

“I haven’t,” Gloria said.

“Neither have I,” Eleanor said. “My mind and memory are demonstrably better since I’ve been on Ultra.”

“Same with me,” Gloria said. “I think François is right. We’re just working too hard.”

“Wait a second, Gloria,” Eleanor said. “You have been forgetful. What about the morning before last when you left your bathrobe in the bathroom and then two minutes later had a fit when it wasn’t hanging behind your door in the bedroom?”

“I didn’t throw a fit,” Gloria contradicted good-naturedly. “Besides, that’s different. I’ve been misplacing my robe way before I’ve been on Ultra.”

“Regardless,” Edward said. “Kim is right. Short-term-memory lapse could be related to Ultra, and as such it should be included in the clinical protocols. But it’s not something we need to lose any sleep over. Even if it proves to occur on occasion, it will surely be an acceptable risk in light of the drug’s enhancement of mental function in general.”

“I agree,” Gloria said. “It’s the equivalent of Einstein forgetting little everyday matters while he was formulating the Theory of Relativity. The mind makes value judgments of what to keep in the processor, and how many times you brush your teeth isn’t that important.”