Robin Cook - Terminal

“I found an apartment,” she announced. She brandished the lease. “It’s not fabulous, but it’s a block from the beach, and best of all it’s a straight shot out the expressway to the Forbes.”

“Janet, I don’t know whether I can stay here,” Sean said. He sounded depressed.

“What happened?” Janet asked, feeling a shiver of anxiety.

“The Forbes is nuts,” Sean said. “The atmosphere sucks. For one thing, there’s a Japanese weirdo who I swear is watching me. Every time I turn around, there he is.”

“What else?” Janet asked. She wanted to hear all Sean’s objections so she could figure a way to deal with them. Having just signed a lease for two months made her commitment to remaining in Miami that much more binding.

“There’s something basically wrong with the place,” Sean said. “People are either friendly or unfriendly. It’s so black and white. It’s not natural. Besides, I’m working by myself in this huge empty room. It’s crazy.”

“You’ve always complained about the lack of space,” Janet said.

“Remind me never to complain again,” Sean said. “I never realized it, but I need people around me. And another thing: they have this secret maximum containment lab which is supposed to be off limits. I ignored the sign and went in anyway. You know what I found? Nothing. The place was empty. Well, I didn’t get to go in every room. In fact, I hadn’t gotten far when this frustrated Marine who heads up the security department stormed in and threatened me.”

“With what?” Janet asked with alarm.

“With his gut,” Sean said. “He came up real close and gave me this nasty look. I was this far from giving him a shot in the nuts.” Sean held up his thumb and index finger about a half inch apart.

“So what happened?” Janet asked.

“Nothing,” Sean said. “He backed off and just told me to get out. But he was all worked up, ordering me out of an empty room as if I’d done something really wrong. It was insane.”

“But you didn’t see the other rooms,” Janet said. “Maybe they’re redoing the room you were in.”

“It’s possible,” Sean admitted. “There’s a lot of potential explanations. But it’s still weird, and when you add all the weird stuff together, it makes the whole joint seem plain crazy.”

“What about the work they want you to do?”

“That’s okay,” Sean said. “In fact, I don’t know why they’ve had so much trouble. Dr. Mason, the director, came in during the afternoon, and I showed him what I was doing. I’d already gotten some minuscule crystals. I told him that I could probably get some decent crystals in a week or so. He seemed pleased, but after he left, I thought about it, and I’m not wild about helping to make money for some Japanese holding company, which is essentially what I’d be doing if I get crystals that they can defract.”

“But that’s not all you’ll be doing,” Janet said.

“How’s that?”

“You’ll also be investigating the medulloblastoma protocol,” Janet said. “Tomorrow I’m starting on the fourth floor and guess who’s there?”

“Helen Cabot?” Sean guessed. He pulled in his feet and sat up.

“You got it,” Janet said. “Plus another patient from Boston. A Louis Martin.”

“Does he have the same diagnosis?” Sean asked.

“Yup,” Janet said. “Medulloblastoma.”

“That’s amazing!” Sean remarked. “And they certainly got him down here quickly!”

Janet nodded. “Forbes is a bit perturbed that Helen had been kept in Boston so long,” Janet said. “The head nurse is worried about her.”

“There’d been a lot of argument about whether or not to biopsy her and which of her tumors to go after,” Sean explained.

“And there was another young woman being admitted while I was there,” Janet said.

“Medulloblastoma too?” Sean asked.

“Yup,” Janet said. “So there are three patients on my floor who are just beginning their treatments. I’d say that was pretty convenient.”

“I’ll need copies of their charts,” Sean said. “I’ll need drug samples as soon as they start actual treatment, unless of course the drugs are named. But that’s not going to be the case. They won’t be using chemo on these people; at least not chemo exclusively. The drugs will probably be coded. And I’ll need each patient’s regimen.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Janet said. “It shouldn’t be difficult with the patients on my floor. Maybe I’ll even be able to arrange to care for at least one of them personally. I’ve also located a convenient copy machine. It’s in medical records.”

“Be careful there,” Sean warned. “The mother of the woman in public relations is one of the medical librarians.”

“I’ll be careful,” Janet said. She eyed Sean warily before going on. She was learning what a mistake it was to push him to any conclusions before he was ready to make them. But she just had to know. “So this means you’re still game?” she asked. “You’ll stay? Even if it means doing that bit of work with the protein, even if it is for the Japanese?”

Sean leaned forward with his head down, elbows on his knees, and rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “This whole situation is absurd. What a way to do science!” He looked up at Janet. “I wonder if anybody in Washington had any idea what limiting research funding would do to our research establishments. It’s all happening just when the country needs research more than ever.”

“All the more reason for us to try to do something,” Janet said.

“You’re serious about this?” Sean asked.

“Absolutely,” Janet said.

“You know we’ll have to be resourceful,” Sean said.

“I know.”

“We’ll have to break a few rules,” he added. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“I think so,” Janet said.

“And once we start, there’s no turning back,” Sean said.

Janet started to answer but the ringing of the phone on the desk startled them both.

“Who the hell could that be?” Sean wondered. He let it ring.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Janet asked.

“I’m thinking,” Sean said. What he didn’t say was that he was afraid it might be Sarah Mason. She’d called him that afternoon, and despite a temptation to aggravate Harris, Sean did not want any association with the woman whatsoever.

“I think you should answer it,” Janet said.

“You answer it,” Sean suggested.

Janet jumped to her feet and snatched up the receiver. Sean watched her expression as she asked who was calling. She showed no strong reaction as she extended the phone to him.

“It’s your brother,” she said.

“What the hell?” Sean mumbled as he pulled himself out of the couch. It wasn’t like his brother to call. They didn’t have that type of relationship, and they had just seen each other Friday night.

Sean took the phone. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Brian said.

“You want an honest answer or platitudes?” Sean asked.

“I think you’d better tell me straight,” Brian said.

“This place is bizarre,” Sean said. “I’m not so sure I want to stay. It might be a complete waste of time.” Sean glanced over at Janet, who rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Something weird’s going on up here too,” Brian said. He told Sean about the two men who’d visited their mother, asking about Immunotherapy.

“Immunotherapy is history,” Sean said. “What did Mom say?”

“Not much,” Brian said. “At least according to her. But she got a bit flustered. All she said was that you and some friends started it.”

“She didn’t say we sold out?”