Eden's Eyes Read Free Page B

blooming on his brow, his cheeks, under his nose. Ed's hand itched to crank up the anesthetic. In a normal situation sweating indicated a too light level of anesthesia—he reminded himself that it didn't matter, and the itch went away.
    The cotton batting in the eyes. That part bothered him.
    That—
    Slowly, deliberately, the donor's head rolled ten degrees to the right.
    "Jesus!" Ed shrieked, hopping to his feet and spilling the chart to the floor. Jesus Christ!" The hackles were up on his neck.
    "What is it?" Tucker asked calmly, peering over the drapes.
    "His head just moved!"
    The circulating nurse appeared at Ed's side, her eyes fixed expectantly on the donor's head.
    "You mean like this?" Ken said, dark mirth narrowing his jade-green eyes.
    The donor's head moved again, and this time Ed saw Ken's fingers through the drapes, nudging the donor's chin.
    "You sick bastard," Ed accused over Ken's paroxysm of laughter. "You twisted sonofabitch!"
    Ken's assistant, a taciturn G.P. by the name of David Wong, joined Ken's crowing, letting out a series of spastic, high-pitched chuckles. Nervously, the two, and finally Ed himself, took up the chorus.
    For a moment the tension slackened.
    Then: "The Ottawa team is here."
    Ed turned to the sound of the voice and saw the nursing supervisor standing in the doorway, a hand cupped over her mouth in lieu of a mask.
    "They're in the change-room now."
    Ken nodded and the laughter abruptly subsided. "Let's get moving," he said to his assistant. "Get the perfusionist in here."
    "Yes, Doctor," the circulating nurse said, then hurried out of the room to find him.
    "Ed," Ken said. "Is this guy relaxed?”
    Still red-faced, Ed touched the donor's cheek with the leads of a battery-powered nerve stimulator, a device designed to test the depth of surgical paralysis. At the start of the case Ed had infused a huge dose of muscle relaxant and expected no muscle-twitch now.
    There was none.
    "He's as relaxed as I can make him," Ed said.
    Ken grunted and returned to his dissection, freeing up the kidneys for eventual removal.
    The first of the Ottawa team entered the room, a husky resident dressed in tight-fitting greens. He greeted the Sudbury team warmly, and Ed guessed from his bright-eyed enthusiasm that his boss would be allowing him to remove the heart tonight. For a moment Ed recalled his own grueling residency without fondness. His gut still felt queasy from Ken's sick little prank.
    Now four other members of the Ottawa team entered en masse, setting about their preordained tasks with practiced efficiency, and Ed felt a glow of admiration. These guys flew all over the nation, Ed knew, gentlemen farmers, late-night harvesters of man's most precious crop—human organs.
    Maybe it was the fatigue, but Ed found himself recalling a Monty Python movie he'd see a few years back, a gruesome little flick entitled Meaning of Life. . .
    Two guys in dirty-white lab coats appear at this rummy's front door and one of them says, "We've come for your liver."
    And the rummy says, "But I'm not done with it yet. . ."
    "Doctor, could you give the patient a gram of Solu?"
    Ed whirled as if slapped. "Sure he said to the tall, imperious-looking fellow who had just stepped into the room. The head honcho, Ed guessed from the man's demeanor.
    "Evening, Ken," the man said, peering over the drapes into the operative field.
    "Hi, Ozzie!" Ken replied with genuine pleasure. "I didn't expect to see you up here."
    "Oh, I like to make the trip every now and again."
    "I'll be out of your way in just a few minutes," Ken said. The right kidney's shot—big subcapsular hematoma—but the left one looks fine." He chuckled." Oh, Ozzie. Have you met Dr. Skead?"
    Turning toward Ed, the heart surgeon shook his head.
    "Oswald Harrington," Ken said. "Meet Ed Skead, our weary gas man."
    Ed shook the man's hand, surprised at its gentleness.
    And all at once things sped up to triple-time, diverting Ed's attention from the dead man on the