Book of Stolen Tales by D. J. McIntosh Page A

appeared not to notice.
    â€œWhen Loretti initially came to us, he tried to tell us something,” Abbott said.
    â€œWhat?” Best asked.
    â€œWe couldn’t figure it out. He pronounced two separate and distinct words. ‘Ersh’ and ‘gal.’ It probably means nothing. Just the product of a disordered mind. He repeated them over and over. We taped him and had a speech therapist evaluate it, but got nowhere. Maybe your people can have a go at it.
    â€œThis is what Loretti looked like one month ago.” Abbott handed Shaheen a photo of a dark-haired man in his thirties, on the lean side, square jawed, ruddy faced. His appealing smile revealed a row of perfectly even, sparkling white teeth.
    â€œOkay, showtime,” the doctor said grimly.
    At first, Shaheen could make out only the dim form of a figure sitting upright in a chair of some kind and the vague outlines of cupboards and a counter. An attendant went inside and closed the door behind him. The doctor touched a dial on the wall and the room flooded with bluish fluorescence.
    â€œMy God,” Shaheen said.

Ten

    T he patient was propped up in a heavily padded lounge chair that supported his body from head to foot. Its back and head rests were tilted. Restraints had been placed at Loretti’s ankles, knees, waist, and neck and at the elbow and wrist of one arm. His other arm hung limp and flaccid by his side.
    â€œLoretti can’t lie flat,” Dr. Abbott explained. “He’s experiencing acute respiratory distress; the fluid in his lungs would drown him. The restraints look cruel, I know, but we need them. Otherwise he’d rip his skin off. Something is causing the epidermis to harden and the entire surface of his skin is tight and intensely itchy.”
    The man was naked except for a wide gauze bandage covering his genitals. A web of color-coded IV lines and heart-monitor wires attached to various body parts was looped to machines. Padded restraints protected his skin; his neck was swollen and bruised and some of the purplish patches had ulcerated. From Loretti’s milky eyes Shaheen realized he’d probably gone blind. His flesh had reddened and was stretched over oddly malformed bones, his shoulders and rib cage so enlarged they were a caricature of masculinity.
    â€œWhy is he so misshapen?” Shaheen lowered his voice as if Loretti could hear him through the glass.
    â€œThat abnormal bone growth you see occurred over just a few weeks.”
    Shaheen barely heard Abbott. He was furious. “Can’t you sedate him? Put him out somehow? Keeping him like that is obscene.”
    Abbott bristled. “If we sedate him any more he won’t survive.”
    â€œPut him out of his misery then, for God’s sake. We treat animals better than that.”
    â€œMy role is to preserve life, not take it,” the doctor snapped.
    â€œWhat about his family? I can’t believe they’d want to keep him alive in this condition.”
    Best nodded to the doctor, effectively ending the conversation. “Thank you, Dr. Abbott. We don’t need to see Hill. We’ll go.”
    Shaheen followed Best to the change room. He ripped off his mask.
    â€œWhy didn’t you want to see the other guy? Is he like that too?”
    â€œNo,” Best said. “He fell into a coma before the symptoms you saw on Loretti materialized.”
    â€œLucky man.”
    â€œHe still is.”
    â€œStill is what?”
    â€œIn a coma. But he’ll never recover. He’s brain dead now. I’m sorry to expose you to this,” Best said. “I wanted you to realize what a dire problem we have on our hands. We need your help. Let’s get out of here; we can talk more in the car.”
    â€œI don’t see how I can assist you,” Shaheen said when they reached the vehicle and Best had climbed into the back seat beside him. “You know I’m not a scientist. That’s not what I