Desperate Times Three - Revolution by Nicholas Antinozzi Page A

next world than even we generals.” ~ Napoleon Bonaparte
     
    Patty
     
    Dr. Simon Botch surveyed his classroom and glanced up at the clock with anticipation. Today was a big day, not only for him, but for the entire country. He forced himself not to smile as he waited to break new ground in the name of humanity.
    She had been strapped into a wheelchair and dressed in a clean hospital gown for the occasion. Patty Dahlgren was pushed into the triple-tiered classroom of the Monroe Institute by a dark-skinned man dressed entirely in white.
    “That will be fine,” Dr. Botch said. “Just park her there, and I’ll let you know when I need you to return.”
    The man nodded and quietly walked out the door at the back of the classroom.
    Botch was one of only a few remaining transplant surgeons west of the Mississippi and had been selected to train the new crop of fresh faces that sat before him. Times had changed, and medical science needed to put old idealisms behind it and forge ahead. Those who had refused to renounce their Hippocratic Oath had been systematically eliminated by the new regime.
    The large classroom was well lit, smelled strongly of disinfectant, and nearly a hundred medical students sat in the tiered sections that had been laid out in a horseshoe design. Botch walked over to the unnamed woman in the chair and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Good morning, class,” he said. “Are we ready to harvest some organs?”
    There was a stunned silence in the room, and Botch had been expecting that. He smiled and moved in front of the donor. “This woman is catatonic and is already showing signs of significant atrophy. Part of this class is learning to let go of what we practiced in the past. The organs inside this woman’s body will soon start to fail, which is the medical equivalent of watching fruit rot on the vine. Many lives can and will be saved by adopting this new code of ethics. We are dedicated to saving lives, not preserving natural death. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
    Dr. Botch’s question was met with more silence, which he had also been expecting. These students had been indoctrinated with the new teaching materials which relied heavily on following orders and keeping with the herd. Failure to do so had serious, permanent consequences. Botch smiled and nodded his head. “Good. Now, what can you tell me about this woman? Who would like to step forward and give her a brief examination for the class?”
    Nearly a hundred hands shot up in the air, and Dr. Botch smiled again. He pointed to the center of the first tier of students to one of his favorite students, Haley Bend. “Haley,” Botch said, “come on down, and I want you to speak up and give the class your medical opinion of our patient. I’ll give you the floor for five minutes.”
    Haley Bend smiled; she and Botch were in the middle of a torrid extramarital affair and had actually spent the previous night together. She was young and beautiful, but also a gifted student with steady hands and no misgivings about the new direction medical science was heading. She stepped down to the floor of the classroom and confidently made her way to stand next to Patty Dahlgren. She and Botch exchanged a brief smile before the blonde beauty turned and faced the class. “This,” she said, pointing to her patient, “is a perfect example of what we now know as a useless eater. Am I wrong?” she asked, turning to Botch.
    “Indeed not,” Dr. Botch said. “Please continue. You’re doing fine. Just pretend that I’m not here.”
    Sonya Chen sat in the upper tier and felt her stomach roll as Haley Bend continued on with her examination. Sonya had been railroaded into the organ harvesting program by her uncle who worked for the Institute, and she had regretted it for weeks. Sonya knew in her heart that there was no way she could follow along with this new trend in medicine. She was hoping to hang on just long enough to save a few lives before