The Good Doctor's Tales Folio Three Read Free Page A

sustain.
    “I’ve been wounded like this before, Hank, and I believe
you were the one who told me to lay off the eating to avoid setting in the
damage.”
    “You overdid it this time, Tonya,” Hank said.  The
hunger control evidenced here was more than impressive.  He hadn’t realized any
of the Focuses possessed such an insane level of self-control.  “Your body’s
been cannibalizing your major organs and muscles.”
    “You mean I can eat?”
    “Yes, starting now.  Fluids, too.”  Hank turned to Focus
Abernathy, who had crept back in during the first of the surgeries, unable to
resist the instinctive call to help a Focus in need.  She had helped Hank
immeasurably, holding down Tonya’s Transforms when they started to thrash in
their comas during the surgery.  Because of the manual labor involved in her
farm work, Abernathy was as strong as an Arm of similar mass, or so he
suspected.  Warned by previous bad experiences, Hank hadn’t given Tonya’s Transforms
anything more than topical pain killers – total anesthesia shut down a
Transform’s juice-based metabolic maintenance system, an often fatal occurrence. 
The woman Transform patient might have lived through anesthesia, but the
gutshot bodyguard would have died.  Nor could he anesthetize Tonya – both
Focuses and Arms had such vigorous juice-based metabolisms they resisted any
painkillers, even the topicals, with relative ease.
    “Marcia, could you rustle up some high calorie food for
Tonya.  Milk, too.”
    She nodded and rushed off.
    “You’re going to have a patient eating during surgery?” Dr.
Kepke asked.
    Hank nodded.  “You’re in for a show, Frank.  Surgery on
a Focus is nothing like you’ve ever seen or imagined.  Pain killers don’t work,
for one.”
    “God.”
    “Luckily, Tonya here is a master at pain control.”
    “Not exactly true,” Tonya said, grabbing at the first
plate of food that Focus Abernathy brought in, and stuffing cold leftover tuna
casserole into her mouth without bothering with the silverware.  “I feel the
pain,” she said, around a mouthful of food, “but I’ve taught myself not to let
it affect me.  It’s the pain responses which will cause all the big problems.”
    “Inhuman,” Dr. Kepke said, his voice low.
    “How are you going to deal with my legs, anyway?” Tonya
asked, repeating an earlier question and ignoring Dr. Kepke.  Her question gave
Dr. Zielinski a good reading on the Focus’s juice level.  All Focuses exhibited
significant short-term memory issues when their juice levels got too low. 
Tonya would be aghast at her slip; he larded it away for their next verbal
sparring session.  “It doesn’t appear you’re going to amputate, which is what I
feared needed to happen.  I wasn’t looking forward to a year and a half of leg
regeneration.”
    Frank turned green, as Hank got a bone saw and a hammer
out of the trunk.  “I’m going to rebreak them, then I’ll use metal plates and
screws to put them back in place.  You might want to tell Frank and Marcia here
some of your Monster hunting stories.”  Hank paused, at Tonya’s frown.  “Consider
that an order, Mrs. Biggioni,” he said, in his commanding voice.  “You’re going
to need all the distractions we can arrange.”
    Tonya nodded and started to talk.
    Hank swung the hammer.
     
    “So, why do you have me walking around like this?” Tonya
said.  Monday evening fast approached, though the grey cloud deck muted the
effect.  Hank held Tonya’s elbow, quite gentlemanly, and tried to ignore the
hostile and awestruck ring of bodyguards around him as he led Tonya around
Focus Abernathy’s farm.
    “Focuses heal too fast for any sort of bed rest to help. 
Don’t forget that in addition to the bone damage and soft tissue damage, there
was quite a bit of muscle damage.  You also cannibalized enough of your normal
muscle tissues to make a difference.  In any event, I want you more active than
normal, doing