Robin Cook - Shock

"Just a second more," Shirley said. Then she stopped and straightened up and looked at Carlton. "Well, as near as I can tell the right ovary is not there."

"It couldn't be retroflexed or anything like that?" Carlton asked.

"It's not there," Shirley said. "I'd be willing to put money on it."

"Is it all right if I get up?" Joanna asked.

"Oh, of course," Shirley said. She gave Joanna some tissues to help wipe up the gel from her abdomen. Shirley lent a hand as well.

Joanna slid off the couch and buttoned her blouse.

"What are the chances that Joanna only had one ovary to begin with?" Deborah asked.

"That's not a bad question," Carlton said. He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Call one of the gyn residents," Shirley suggested. "They should know."

"Good idea," Carlton said.

"If I can help any more, give me a buzz," Shirley said. "I've got to go."

The group thanked the radiology resident, who then left. Joanna grabbed her skirt and shook out the wrinkles.

"Come out to the main desk when you are ready,' Carlton said. "I'll page the gyn resident from out there." He stepped out into the corridor and disappeared down the hall.

"Well, our worst fears have been corroborated," Deborah said. She held Joanna's arm while Joanna stepped into her skirt.

Now that she was alone with Deborah, Joanna felt a surge of emotion and even suffered some tears. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. "I don't know why I'm crying now," she said with a short, emotional laugh. "I guess it's just that I've had a long, intimate relationship with that ovary, and I didn't even know she was gone."

Deborah smiled. "I'm impressed you can find humor in this!"

"As tired as I am, laughing seems easier than crying."

"Well, I'm mad!" Deborah said. "The nerve of Paul Saunders and Sheila Donaldson and whoever else is in on all this." Using her fingers to count, she said: "Consider what they are apparently doing: one, stealing ovaries from unsuspecting women; two, cloning themselves to beat the band; three, impregnating poor Nicaraguan women and aborting them for eggs. And that's only what we suspect1. We have to do something about this."

Joanna adjusted her skirt and her blouse and slipped into her shoes. "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to go home and go to bed. After ten or eleven hours of sleep, maybe I'll be able to think up something appropriate for the Wingate Clinic."

"Do you know what I think we should do?" Deborah said.

Joanna picked up her purse. She was in no mood to play Deborah's game and didn't respond. Instead she walked out of the room.

Deborah followed. "I'll tell you what we should do, even if you don't want to hear it. I think we should go back out there to the Wingate Clinic tonight and see what's in that egg room. There could very well be incriminating evidence in there. Hell, we might even find your ovary. And if that doesn't work, we can get you back into the server room and get the research files. At this time of night we won't have to contend with Randy Porter."

Joanna stopped and turned around. "That's the craziest idea I've heard in a long time. Why in heaven's name would we go back out there tonight!"

"Because we can!"

"You must be just as tired as I am. What kind of answer is that?"

"We still have access cards," Deborah explained. "We left early today, and I'm sure they discovered it, so we're out of jobs. But knowing bureaucracies, the cards are probably still operative. That will change tomorrow, but I'd be awfully surprised if they didn't work tonight. And we still have Spencer's card, and that's not going to stay good forever, either. My only point is that if we don't go out there sooner there probably won't be a later. We've got this narrow window of opportunity that we have to take advantage of."

"I suppose you have a point," Joanna said wearily. "But we're both way too tired." She turned around and continued down the hallway. Deborah followed at her heels, trying to convince her they had a moral responsibility. When they emerged into the waiting area they were still arguing. Carlton had to quiet them so he could hear while he was on the phone.

"What are you women arguing about?" he asked when his call was completed. Joanna and Deborah were glaring at one another.

"She's trying to talk me into going back to the Wingate Clinic tonight," Joanna explained. "She wants to break into what she calls the egg room, and she wants me to hack into their research files."

"Do you ladies want to hear my opinion?" Carlton asked.

"It depends," Deborah said. "Are you for or are you against?"

"Against."

"Then we don't want to hear it," Deborah said.

"I'd like to hear it," Joanna said.

"I don't think you should break the law any more than you already have," Carlton said. "You're lucky to have gotten away with what you did. Let professionals take over. Go to the authorities1."

"Like to whom?" Deborah challenged. "The Bookford police? What are they going to do – shoot themselves in the foot? The FBI? We don't have any evidence there's any interstate aspect to all this that would justify them getting a search warrant, and I'm sure Saunders and Donaldson have contingency plans if there are any general inquiries. Medical authorities? They're not going to do anything because they never have. For them infertility clinics are somehow beyond the pale."

"What did you find out from the gyn resident?" Joanna asked.

"Congenital absence of one ovary is a rare bird," Carlton said. "She said she's never seen it, never heard of it, and never read it, but she thought it could happen."

"They stole your damn ovary!" Deborah rejoined. "The facts are written on the wall. Hell, I'd think you should be the one trying to talk me into going back out there tonight rather than vice versa."

"That's because I apparently have significantly more sense than you do."

Carlton's pager went off. In the deserted waiting room it sounded louder than it had in the basement cafeteria. He used the phone directly in front on him.

"I don't think we should to lose this opportunity," Deborah persisted.

"All right, I'll be right down!" Carlton said. He hung up. "Sorry to break up this party, but that was the ER. There's been a pileup on Storrow Drive, and the ambulances are on their way in."

Carlton accompanied the women down in the elevator while they kept up their debate in forced whispers in deference to the other passengers. They even persisted quarreling all the way down the main corridor to the front door of the hospital.

"This is where I have to leave you two," Carlton said, interrupting the women and pointing toward the emergency department. Then, looking at Joanna, he said: "Great to see you. And I'm sorry about that ovary."

"Thank you for arranging the ultrasound," Joanna said.

"Glad to be able to help. I'll call you later."

"Do that," Joanna said. She smiled and he did the same. Then he waved self-consciously before disappearing through the swinging doors.

Deborah made the gesture she was sticking her finger down her throat to gag.

"Oh, please!" Joanna said. "He's not that bad."

"Says who?" Deborah countered. " 'Sorry about that ovary'! What a bird-brained, insensitive thing to say! It's like you lost your pet turtle and not part of your identity as a woman."

The two women exited the hospital and headed toward the parking garage. Evening had turned into night and the streetlamps had come on. Approaching ambulance sirens could be heard screaming in the distance.

"Doctors see tragedies more poignant than losing an ovary every day," Joanna said. "He doesn't see it in the same way you and I do. Besides, you said yourself one ovary will not physically affect me."

"But you were his fiancée," Deborah said. "It's not like you're just another patient. But, you know what? Just forget it. He's your problem, not mine. Let's get back to the issue at hand. I'm going to go out to the Wingate tonight whether you go or not. I can't do anything about the computer part, but I can get in that egg room, and if there's incriminating evidence, I'm going to find it."