I’ve spent every moment of my free time since that day when Dr. Bell broke the news about Rose’s financial situation trying to figure out a solution, and last week I found one.
It’s a nano-device that has to be surgically implanted directly into the hypothalamus, into a small bundle of nerves known as the ventrolateral preoptic nucleus, or VLPO for short. This cluster of nerves acts like a switch, and determines whether someone is awake or asleep. In theory, the machine would counteract whatever circuits are crossed in Rose’s brain, and allow her brain to let her wake up. It would jumpstart her brain.
In theory.
The guy who invented the device is still testing it on rats. Luckily he’s right here in Pittsburgh, just a few blocks from my place.
That morning, I find myself pounding on his door.
He opens the door, greeting me blurry-eyed and wearing a bathrobe. “Yes? Who are you?”
“Dr. Meiner,” I say. “My name is Kaden Prince, I’m a doctor at Pittsburgh Memorial—”
“Pittsburgh Memorial,” he says, putting on his glasses. “You’re Rose Dorner’s doctor?”
I smile, but before I can react, he grabs me roughly by the collar and yanks me into his apartment. He tries to slam me into the wall, but I’m a lot stronger than he is. I shove him back. “What the fuck, doctor?”
“You’ve been blocking me for five years! I’ve requested access to Dorner, and you are the bastard that has blocked me from experimenting—”
“Water under the bridge,” I say, letting go of his shoulders. “Calm down.”
“Don’t calm down me, Prince!”
“Listen,” I say. “The device, the jumpstarter, does it work?”
“Now you’re interested?” he says, his eyes narrowed in fury. “I—”
“You and I both know,” I say, “that it wasn’t me who blocked you. Hell, I tried to get Dr. Bell to let you come see her. I want her to wake up, just as much as you do.”
He meets my gaze, his anger fading away. “The device works, but it will be years before I can test it on a human.”
“We have two weeks,” I say.
“You’re kidding me,” I say. “No, you’re shitting me, Dr. Bell.”
“It’s not my call,” Bell says. “It simply cannot be authorized. It’s too dangerous.”
“Too dangerous? Too fucking dangerous?” I shout. I can feel the vein pulsing in my neck.
“Check yourself, Dr. Prince!” Bell says, jabbing a finger at me.
“You check yourself!” I shout. “You’re telling me that I can’t operate on my patient because it’s too dangerous? When you’re the one who already has her bed and room set-up for a new patient because you have every intention of just letting her die? We’re not risking a fucking thing, Maryanne. She’s dead if we don’t operate. There’s no—”
“A hospital isn’t a tattoo parlor, Kaden,” Dr. Bell says, glaring at me and then redirecting her attention to my forearms. “There are rules and regulations that we must follow, and—”
“You think tattoo parlors don’t have rules?” I say. “They use fucking needles—”
“Not the point!” she shouts. “It’s been decided, Dr. Prince. Focus on your other patients, the ones you can save.”
“I’ll have a large coffee,” I say.
“One venti,” he says.
“What the fuck is that?” I ask.
“A large, sir,” he says, suddenly looking terrified at the crisp tone of my voice.
“Oh,” I say. “Listen, man, can I buy you a coffee, too?”
“Uh, I’m working,” he says. “And I’m not gay.”
“I’m Rose’s doctor,” I say. “We’ve gotta talk.”
He manages to convince a coworker to cover for him, and he steps away so we can sit down.
“You’re probably wondering why you’ve never seen me around…” Dylan says.
I try not to appear judgmental, but I’m pretty sure I must because he slouches down in his chair.
“When I see her,” he says, “It’s like she’s asleep—”
“She is asleep, Dylan.”
“I mean normal sleep,” he says. “I always visit on her birthday...and it’s so painful. I see her getting older, but it’s just her body. She’s...she’s lived seven years without even living. It always feels like I should be able to just shake her and she’d wake her up. But I can’t—I can’t do anything, Dr. Prince—”
“Dylan,” I say. “You can do something now,” I say. “But it’s kind of crazy and I’ll need to explain.”
He looks at me nervously, but I see a flicker of hope lighting up in his eyes.
“What’s that?” he says. “I’ll do anything for my sister.”
“You don’t actually have to do anything,” I say. “But if I get arrested, just promise me you’ll have my back and be on my side.”
“Arrested? What are you going to do to her?”
I roll Rose’s bed through the hallway. Everyone knows her plug is about to get pulled, so anyone who sees me moving her figures it must have something to do with whatever is coming. They all know I’m her doctor. No one stops me or questions me at this point.
I move her down a series of hallways, turning this way and that, until we come to the newly completed east wing. It’s a brand new wing of the hospital that is fully functional and ready to go, except for the paint hasn’t quite dried, and it won’t be ready for full use for another week or two.
I roll Rose down one of the operating halls. I can see Dr. Meiner hunkered down in the shadows.
“This is career suicide,” Meiner says.
“Not if it works,” I say. “You said it would work, right?”
He sighs. “It will work, but—”
“No buts, then,” I say. “Trust me, Pittsburgh Memorial will want to take credit for its success, and—”
“It’s my device,” he says, his body shaking and his eyes wide with anxiety.
“Right,” I say. “So you’ll have to have a slap fight with Dr. Bell, but the point is that when it does work, no one will want to press charges.”
“You’re sure the brother is on our side? What if it...doesn't work, will he—?”
“He understands the situation, Dr. Meiner. Now stop worrying about your pasty white ass and worry about Rose.”
We fall into silence and quickly get to work.
It’s messy business, brain surgery. It’s also what I’m best at.
Hours pass, and when it’s finally time to insert the device—a bundle of quantum circuits no larger than a few grains of sea salt—Meiner is sweating bullets.
“Careful,” he says.
“I’m a fucking brain surgeon,” I hiss. “I’m always careful.”
I get the device placed, and Meiner tells me he’ll activate it remotely once we have Rose’s skull back in place.
That process takes another several hours. I don’t take any breaks or rest, and I still stay one hundred percent focused throughout the entire surgery.