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evidence is overwhelming. If anything, that little outburst of yours just now
confirms it. No Ashregan, no matter how altered or enhanced, could've gotten
that far."
"Truly he is right." Attention shifted to First-of-Surgery. The elderly
Hivistahm appeared to have handled the unpleasant episode well. "I do not think
we will with words and pictures convince you," he told Ranji. "Your conditioning
too ingrained is, too much a part of you. We will have to something more do."
"Go ahead," Ranji taunted him. "It won't make any difference."
Double eyelids blinked over snakelike pupils. "Truly I beg to differ.''
Chapter Eleven
He never knew how or when they slipped him the anesthetic. It might have arrived
in his drink, or his food, or the air of his apartment. When he sensed the
impending clutch of lugubrious drowsiness he tried to fight back, screaming
imprecations and pounding the walls in a futile attempt to stay awake.
As awareness faded he found himself wondering why they suddenly felt the need to
render him unconscious. Perhaps they planned to move him to another installation
and, mindful of his recent outburst, were taking no chances. Considering his
state of mind and demonstrated capabilities, he wouldn't have taken any chances
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when moving him either.
He appreciated the fact that oblivion came painlessly, but then Omaphil was a
civilized place. He wondered how he would've been treated on the Human homework!
That disagreeable thought was the last he recalled before sliding into a sleep
of abyssal dimensions.
A great many individuals were gathered around view-screens scattered throughout
the installation and elsewhere on Omaphil. The Surgery itself was uncrowded.
First-of-Surgery was among those present, not to perform but to advise and
observe. He had been teaching for so long that he no longer felt in possession
of the necessary skills required to supervise the delicate operation. But he had
been associated with the study from the beginning and realized that his presence
would be a comfort to the others.
Another First-of-Surgery would handle the actual mechanics in conjunction with a
highly experienced O'o'yan. Together they represented the zenith of Weave
medical accomplishment.
Save for a single exception, interested Humans were excluded from the Surgery
itself. While it was to be performed on a Human brain, no Human physician could
have hoped to duplicate the sureness of movement and delicacy of touch possessed
by Hivistahm or O'o'yan. They could only watch and envy.
Though everyone involved exuded confidence and expectation, an undercurrent of
unease still permeated the proceedings. While the procedure had been thoroughly
discussed and mapped out in advance, everyone realized they were entering
unknown territory. Weave study of Homo sapiens had resulted in more than one
surprise, not least to its own kind, and while expectations could be formulated,
where the Human nervous system was involved nothing was absolute, nothing was
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certain.
In addition to the Hivistahm-O'o'yan staff there were two Humans in the Surgery:
the man on the operating pallet, and a huge coppery-skinned male whose fine
long-fingered hands seemed to have been lifted from a different body. Despite
possessing skills which rendered him supreme among his people, he was present
only to observe and advise. Hands which had worked on hundreds of his own kind
would not go near this particular patient, would not in the event of emergency
manipulate the microsur-gical instrumentation. That would be left to aliens
possessed of a touch finer than that of the greatest Human surgeons who had ever
lived.
A thin sheet of softly opaque, nonreflective material covered Ranji-arr from the
neck down. His forehead gleamed beneath the superb overhead lighting. Due to the
nature of the tools which were to be used it had not been necessary to shave his
skull. Invisible air clamps locked his head in place, allowing access by hands
and equipment but no involuntary movement.
The attending physicians had already performed the operation many times on a
virtual-reality simulator. Still, actual reality was different. If you made a
mistake, there was no Reset button to push. In actual reality, patients died. So
the surgical team was confident, but not certain.
The single Human towered over the roomful of Hivistahm and O'o'yan technicians,
looking clumsy and out of place. His presence was something of a concession, and
he knew it. Privately he had assured the two surgeons in charge that he would do
his best to stay out of their way.
"As we begin," the Human said through his translator, "I have to remind everyone
both present and looking on that we don't know what the result of our efforts
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will be. We may as readily kill as cure the subject. As those of you who have
been following developments already know, scanning has detected at least one
cluster of contained explosively carcinogenic cells implanted within the nodule.
Any attempt to remove it would likely release these cells within the brain in a
region where any hasty attempt at counteraction or emergency prophylaxis would
be at least as damaging to the patient as the cells themselves. A carcinogenic
time bomb, if you will.
"If this mechanism were located elsewhere in the body, we might be able to deal
with it, but because it is buried deep within the cerebral cortex we cannot take
the chance. Therefore it has been decided to leave the nodule in place and
untouched while severing the neural connections between it and the rest of the
patient's nervous system with nonintrusive instrumentation. The aim is to render
the growth harmless without removing or traumatizing it."
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