forget you saw us.”
The man picked the money up and placed it in his pocket. “Forget who?”
***
They were in the air two hours on the flight returning to Florida when Sofia came up the staircase to his lounge. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Of course,” he said. He handed a telex to her. “The whole thing was an unnecessary exercise. We’ve just learned from Stryker that they’ve accepted our proposal.”
She put down the telex without reading it. “I apologize,” she said. “I know it’s none of my business, but the man is going to die.”
“I didn’t need you to tell me. I have eyes.”
“But why did a man who had everything in the world for the asking want to live like that?” she asked. “Alone. Sealed in a vacuum bubble out of all contact with reality?”
“Maybe he thought that that way he would live forever,” Judd said, then he was silent for a moment. “Or maybe he really
wanted
to die—and didn’t have the guts to do it…”
15
The building was of green mirrored glass, reflecting the bright Florida sunshine. Its one-storied flat roof was completely hidden by the giant Florida cypress trees from the Crane Medical Center one block away. Next to the glass emerald doors was a small brass plate:
CRANE RESEARCH
NUCLEAR MEDICINE
PRIVATE
Two armed and uniformed security guards stood outside the locked doors like robots, with identical green-mirrored sunglasses hiding their eyes.
Doc Sawyer parked his convertible in the driveway and ran up the steps to the building entrance. He nodded to the security guards as he pressed his palm to the photo-sensitive identity plate. His name in L.E.D. letters rose over the plate and the doors silently slid open for him.
The main floor was completely empty except for another security guard seated behind a desk between the two banks of elevators. The guard looked up at him. “Dr. Zabiski said she will meet you at the fourth level, sir,” he said.
“Thank you,” Doc answered, opening the elevator doors. They quickly closed behind him and he pressed for level 4. Slowly the elevator descended. He looked at the indicator lights. This time the numbers for the floor did not indicate floors ascending. They ran from
M
, for main floor top, to
9
, for the bottom subterranean level. The entire building was constructed underground.
He came out of the elevator. He nodded again at the ever-present security guard and hurried down the corridor to Dr. Zabiski’s office. He opened the door without knocking. Dr. Zabiski was seated behind her desk. “I came as soon as I got your call,” he said anxiously. “Is there anything wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” the tiny woman said reassuringly. “We’ve moved him to an intensive care unit. I thought you’d like to be here when we wake him.”
He let out a sigh of relief and sank into a chair opposite hers. “Jesus,” he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. His hands still trembled as he lit the cigarette. “This is crazy,” he said, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs. “I’m beginning to believe more than ever during the last three years that we’ve all become Frankensteins.”
“All doctors are Frankenstein at heart.” She smiled slowly. “Is there a one of us who doesn’t dream of playing God?”
“I suppose,” Sawyer said. He drew again from his cigarette. “But we all know who God is, don’t we?”
She laughed. But there was no humor in the tawny, catlike eyes. “Judd Crane?”
He laughed, also without humor. “He has to be God. I don’t know anyone else who can afford it.”
She was silent for a moment, then nodded. “You’re probably right,” she said. “When he first told me twenty, then fifty million dollars, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think there was that much money in the world. Then I looked into his eyes. And I believed. Not in the money, but the man. He means to bring all the knowledge in the world to bear upon his own
The man picked the money up and placed it in his pocket. “Forget who?”
***
They were in the air two hours on the flight returning to Florida when Sofia came up the staircase to his lounge. “May I speak with you for a moment?”
“Of course,” he said. He handed a telex to her. “The whole thing was an unnecessary exercise. We’ve just learned from Stryker that they’ve accepted our proposal.”
She put down the telex without reading it. “I apologize,” she said. “I know it’s none of my business, but the man is going to die.”
“I didn’t need you to tell me. I have eyes.”
“But why did a man who had everything in the world for the asking want to live like that?” she asked. “Alone. Sealed in a vacuum bubble out of all contact with reality?”
“Maybe he thought that that way he would live forever,” Judd said, then he was silent for a moment. “Or maybe he really
wanted
to die—and didn’t have the guts to do it…”
15
The building was of green mirrored glass, reflecting the bright Florida sunshine. Its one-storied flat roof was completely hidden by the giant Florida cypress trees from the Crane Medical Center one block away. Next to the glass emerald doors was a small brass plate:
CRANE RESEARCH
NUCLEAR MEDICINE
PRIVATE
Two armed and uniformed security guards stood outside the locked doors like robots, with identical green-mirrored sunglasses hiding their eyes.
Doc Sawyer parked his convertible in the driveway and ran up the steps to the building entrance. He nodded to the security guards as he pressed his palm to the photo-sensitive identity plate. His name in L.E.D. letters rose over the plate and the doors silently slid open for him.
The main floor was completely empty except for another security guard seated behind a desk between the two banks of elevators. The guard looked up at him. “Dr. Zabiski said she will meet you at the fourth level, sir,” he said.
“Thank you,” Doc answered, opening the elevator doors. They quickly closed behind him and he pressed for level 4. Slowly the elevator descended. He looked at the indicator lights. This time the numbers for the floor did not indicate floors ascending. They ran from
M
, for main floor top, to
9
, for the bottom subterranean level. The entire building was constructed underground.
He came out of the elevator. He nodded again at the ever-present security guard and hurried down the corridor to Dr. Zabiski’s office. He opened the door without knocking. Dr. Zabiski was seated behind her desk. “I came as soon as I got your call,” he said anxiously. “Is there anything wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” the tiny woman said reassuringly. “We’ve moved him to an intensive care unit. I thought you’d like to be here when we wake him.”
He let out a sigh of relief and sank into a chair opposite hers. “Jesus,” he said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his jacket. His hands still trembled as he lit the cigarette. “This is crazy,” he said, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs. “I’m beginning to believe more than ever during the last three years that we’ve all become Frankensteins.”
“All doctors are Frankenstein at heart.” She smiled slowly. “Is there a one of us who doesn’t dream of playing God?”
“I suppose,” Sawyer said. He drew again from his cigarette. “But we all know who God is, don’t we?”
She laughed. But there was no humor in the tawny, catlike eyes. “Judd Crane?”
He laughed, also without humor. “He has to be God. I don’t know anyone else who can afford it.”
She was silent for a moment, then nodded. “You’re probably right,” she said. “When he first told me twenty, then fifty million dollars, I didn’t believe him. I didn’t think there was that much money in the world. Then I looked into his eyes. And I believed. Not in the money, but the man. He means to bring all the knowledge in the world to bear upon his own
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