I Will Fear No Evil

8

Dr. Garcia rubbed Jake Salomon's arm where he had just injected him. "Now wait three minutes. With a tenth cc. of ‘Tranquille' in you, you could attend your own hanging in a calm mood."

"Thank you, Doctor. Dr. Hedrick, what's bothering Johann now? Your message was not specific."

Hedrick shook his head. "The patient won't talk to us. Simply demands to see you."

"Uh...he has found out? Or, rather, if he has, what then?"

Hedrick turned to his colleague. "Dr. Garcia?"

"You know my opinion, Doctor. Your patient has recovered, is simply weak from being too long in bed. There is no longer any excuse—any medical excuse—for restraints."

"Dr. Rosenthal?"

The psychiatrist shrugged. "The human mind is a weird and wonderful thing—and the longer I study it the less I'm sure about anything concerning it. But I agree with Dr. Garcia on one point: You can't keep a patient tied down forever."

Hedrick said, "I'm afraid that's it, Counselor."

Salomon sighed. "And I've been appointed a vol­unteer."

"Any of us will go in with you if you wish, sir. But the patient flatly refuses to talk to us. We'll be standing by, ready to move fast if a crisis develops."

"The dummy-switches dodge again?"

"Oh, certainly. And this time the nurse has been instructed to get out if you tell her to. You, not the patient. But don't worry; I'll be watching and listening by closed-circuit video; Dr. Garcia and Dr. Rosenthal will watch the monitor scopes."

"I'm not worrying, that drug must have hit me. Okay, I'll go in—and if I have to ride the tiger, I'll hang onto its ears."

Johann Smith said, "Jake! Where the hell have you been? You've come to see me just, once in the past three weeks. Once! Damn you."

"I've been working. Which is more than you can say."

"You think so, eh? Physiotherapy is damned hard work, harder than you ever do, you shyster—and I have to go through it seven days a week."

"My heart bleeds, Johann—want a chit to' see the Chaplain? I was laid up sick for ten days—which I'm sure Hedrick told you—and I still don't feel chipper, so move over, you lazy bastard, and let me stretch out. Damn it, Johann, I'm not as young as I used to be; I can't jump through hoops every time you snap your fingers."

"Now, now, Jake, don't take that line with me. I'm sorry you were in. I told ‘em to send you flowers. Did you get them?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"That's odd, I didn't send any. Caught you, didn't I? Jake, I never intend to overwork a man—but, damn it, when he's on my payroll, I expect to hear from him occasionally. And see him."

"I'm not on your payroll."

"Huh? What nonsense is this?"

"When the Court appointed me your guardian pro tern and conservator, McCampbell awarded me a token fee of ten dollars a month. That's all I am allowed to accept from you—and I haven't collected it."

Johann looked incredulous. "Well, we'll change that in a hurry! You get word to Judge McCampbell that I said—"

"Stow it, Johann. It was part of the deal to shut up your granddaughters. Now what is eating you? Mrs. Branca? You've had a report each day—negative. I fetched a briefcase stuffed with detailed reports—alt negative but showing what has been done. Want to read ‘em? I see you have a reading machine now."

"Read negative reports? Jake, don't be silly. Yes, I'm fretted about Eunice—damn it, even if she didn't want to work for me any longer, you'd think she would have paid me the minimum courtesy of a sickroom visit. But that's not what is on my mind—not why I sent for you, I mean. Nurse!"

"Yes, sir?"

"Switch off the voice-monitors; then go hide your head in the idiot box. Pick any program as long as it's loud; I want privacy."

"Yes, sir." She stood up and switched off the dummy switches.

"Nurse."

"Yes, Mr. Salomon?"

"Ask Dr. Hedrick if we can have full privacy. I don't think Mr. Smith is going to swing from the chandelier simply because I don't have a nursing degree."

"Mr. Salomon, Dr. Hedrick says that we are doing so well"—she smiled brightly—"aren't we, Mr. Smith?—that if you wanted to talk privately, I could leave. Just push this red button when you want me." She smiled again and left.

Johann said, "Well, that's a surprise!"

"Why so? You're getting well, Hedrick says so."

"Hmm. ‘I fear the Greeks, even bearing gifts.' Jake, come close, I want to whisper...because I wouldn't put it past ‘em to have a spare microphone tucked away somewhere."

"Paranoia, you old fool. Why would Hedrick bother to listen to our conversation?"

"‘Young fool,' please—I'm young again. Paranoid, possibly. Anyhow I don't want anybody to hear this but you. Because if I'm mistaken, it won't sound good to have this repeated in court in a competency hearing. So lean close and listen hard. Jake...I'm almost certain this new body of mine is female!"

Jake Salomon's ears started to buzz and he was glad that Garcia had given him that shot. "So? Interesting idea. ‘If true, what are you going to do? Take it back to complaint desk and demand another one?"

"Oh, don't talk like a fool, Jake. Whatever body I have now, I'm stuck with—and if it's female, well, it'll seem odd but half the human race manages to bear up under it; I, guess I can. But don't you see? If my notion is correct, that's why they've taken such great care not to let me see myself. Afraid I would jump my cams, no doubt." Johann chuckled. "I'm tougher than that. Shucks, they haven't even let you see anything you could spot as female—sheet over my whole body, not even my arms in sight, and enough gear hooked to me to clutter up any lines of figure. Towel over my scalp—I suppose the hair is growing back,' or such. If I'm horsefaced enough, you couldn't tell my sex just from my face. My new face."

"Perhaps. It's an interesting theory. How did you reach. it?"

"Oh, a number of things. Especially the fact that, even though I now can use my hands and arms, they won't le me. Except during controlled physiotherapy. Can't touch myself, I mean; they strap me down again at once, with an excuse about ‘spastic muscle action' and so forth. Which I did have at first and don't have now. But never mind. This is the first time there hasn't been a nurse in the room. So find out. Lift the sheet and look! Tell me, Jake, am I male or female? Hurry—she might come back."

Salomon sat still. "Johann."

"What, Jake? Hurry up, man!"

"You're female."

Johann Smith was silent several moments, then said, "Well, it's a relief to be sure. At least I'm not crazy. If ‘female' and ‘crazy' aren't synonyms. Well, Jake? How did it happen?"

"I've known it all along, Johann. It's been a strain on me to see you and not let on. For you are correct; your doctors were afraid that you might not take it well. While you were still weak."

"They don't know me very well—it's not half the surprise it was to me when—at about six, it was—I found out that girls really are different from boys. Little girl down the block, it was. Showed me. ‘But how did it happen, Jake? It wasn't what I signed up for."

"Oh, but it was."

"Eh?"

"No instruction you gave said one word about race or sex. You specified ‘healthy,' and around twenty to forty years old, and with AB-Negative blood. Nothing else."

Johann blinked. "Yes. But it never occurred to me that they might put me into a woman's body."

"Why not? They put women's hearts into male bodies and vice versa every day."

"True. I'm simply saying that I never thought about it. But even if I had, I don't think I would have risked cutting my chances in half by making such a restriction. As may be, I've never been one to cry over spilt milk. Well, now that I know, there's no reason to continue that silly business about ‘no mirrors.' Will you step out and tell that stubborn doctor that I want to see myself at once and no more nonsense? If necessary, knock his ears in."

"I'll see, Johann." Salmon buzzed for the nurse, then went out. He was gone five minutes, returned with Drs. Hedrick, Garcia, and Rosenthal, and a second nurse, who was carrying a large hand mirror.

Hedrick said, "How do you feel, Miss Smith?"

She smiled wryly. "So it's ‘Miss' Smith now, is it? Much better, thank you; my mind is at ease. You could have told me weeks ago; I am not as unstable as you think."

"That is possible, Miss Smith, but I am bound to do what I think is best for my patient."

"No criticism, none. But now that the cat is out of the bag, please ask the nurse to show me what I look like. I'm curious."

"Certainly, Miss Smith."

Dr. Garcia waved the nurse at the console aside and sat down; Hedrick stationed himself on one side of the bed, Rosenthal on the others Only then did Hedrick take the mirror from the nurse, hold it to let his patient see herself in it.

Johann Smith looked at her new face first with intense interest, then with unbelief—then her features broke in horror. "Oh, my God! Dear God, what have they done to us? Jake! You knew!"

The lawyer's face was working in the convulsions of a strong man trying not to weep. "Yes, I knew, Johann. That's why I couldn't find her for you—because she was here all along. Right here—and I had... to talk to her!"

He gave up and sobbed.

"Jake, how could you let them do it? Eunice, oh Eunice my darling, forgive me—I didn't know!" Her sobs echoed his, an octave higher.

Hedrick snapped, "Dr. Garcia!"

"Started, Doctor!"

"Dr. Rosenthal, take care of Mr. Salomon. Nurse, help him, he's about to fall! Damn it, where's that aspirator?"

Five minutes later the room was quiet. The patient had been forced into sedated sleep. Dr. Hedrick satisfied himself that Miss Smith was safe and turned the bedside watch over to Dr. Garcia. Hedrick then left the sickroom.

He found Mr. Salomon stretched out on a couch at the remote watch station; Dr. Rosenthal was seated by the couch, a stethoscope around his neck. Hedrick cocked an eyebrow at the, psychiatrist, who mouthed soundlessly, "Okay," then added aloud, "Perhaps you will check me."

"Very well, Doctor." Hedrick sat down where Rosenthal had been, hitched the chair closer, took Salomon's wrist and felt his pulse. "How do you feel?"

"I'm okay," Salomon said gruffly. "Sorry I made a fool of myself. How is she?"

"Sleeping. You were fond of her."

"We both were fond of her. Doctor, she was an angel."

"Go ahead and cry. Tears are lubricant for the soul. Males would be better off if they cried as easily as women do. Eh, Rosenthal?"

"Correct, Doctor. Cultures in which men cry easily have little need of my specialty." He smiled. "Mr. Salomon, you're in good hands so I'll run along—got to shrink a few heads for my collection. Unless you need me, Doctor?"

"Run along Rosy. You might be here in the morning when we wake the patient. Say ten o'clock."

"Good-bye, Dr. Rosenthal. Thank you. Thank you for everything."

"No huhu, Counselor. Don't let that veterinarian sell you any flea powder." He left.

"Dr. Salomon," said Hedrick, "this big castle is loaded with beds. What do you say to sacking out in one, then about twenty-one or two o'clock I can give you a pill guaranteed to slug you for eight hours of dreamless sleep?"

"I'm okay, really I am."

"If you say so. I can't force treatment on you. But as another human being who has come to know you fairly well—and admire you—I must admit that I am more worried about you than I am about my patient. You referred to her as an ‘angel'—by which you meant the donor, not Miss Smith."

"Eh? Yes,' of course. Eunice Branca." Salomon's features contorted momentarily.

"I never knew her and I've had little experience with angels; doctors don't see people at their best. But her body would do credit to an angel; I have never seen a healthier one. Twenty-eight years old by the records, physiologically perhaps five years younger. She—Miss Smith I now mean, Miss Johann ‘Smith—can take a severe shock and bounce out of it; she has that superb young body to sustain her. But you have had much the same shock and—forgive me—are no longer young. If you won't sleep here—best—"

"I don't want to sleep here!"

"Very well. Second best would be for you to permit me to check your heart and lungs and blood pressure. If I don't like what I find, then I want you to rest while I send for your physician."

"He doesn't make house calls."

Hedrick grunted. "Then he's not a physician; physicians go where they are needed. A most unprofessional remark as we are expected to pretend that any M.D. with a license is a dedicated saint with the wisdom of Jove—even when we know he is a bungler whose dedication is to the Internal Revenue Service. Don't quote me; they might lift my union card. Now about that checkup? Do you want it?"

"Uh, yes. Please. And I'll take that pill if you'll let me take it home. Don't ordinarily use such—but tonight is a special case."

"Good. If you'll slip off your shirt—"

While he worked the physician said quietly, "Mr. Salomon, I don't have Dr. Rosenthal's training. But if it will do you any good to talk, I can listen. This has been on your mind, I know. I think your worst hurdle is past—letting Johann Smith know that he is now ‘Miss' Smith, plus the still worse shock of seeing him—her——discover that she now inhabits his former secretary's body. So you are past that crisis. If there is more it would help to get off your mind, feel free to talk. In my profession as in yours, such talk is privileged."

"I don't mind talking about Eunice. But I don't know what to say."

"Well, you might tell me how such a lovely girl got killed. Never knew the donor's name until you told me. There was a privacy restriction. So we don't ask—as long as the donation is properly certified."

"Yes, there was such restriction. We'll never know why but I suspect that the child—woman, I mean, and a very competent one—but I thought of her as a child, being so much older than she was. I think Eunice had a romantic notion that she could give her body to her boss if she no longer needed it and not let him find out. Ridiculous, but it fitted her sweet nature. I had to tell you, once it looked as if old Johann might live through it. Because I knew he would blow his wig. And he did."

"A very good thing you told me, Counselor. I think—and Dr. Rosenthal thinks—that we would never have pulled this patient through if we hadn't taken extraordinary precautions to keep her from knowing her sex. In view of the patient's relation to the donor. Close, that is."

"Close. Close for both of us. Doctor, I am not exaggerating—if I had been as little as twice Eunice's age—and she not married—I would have done my damnedest to marry her. And the same, I feel certain, goes for old Johann. So I knew what a shock it would be to him—worse than simply learning that she had been killed."

"Car accident?"

"Nothing so innocent. Killed by a mugger. Psycho­path probably but the point is immaterial as Johann's mobile guards caught him almost in the act and killed him. That's how she was saved—her body was saved, I mean—because they rushed her to a hospital hoping to save her." Jake Salomon sighed. "It does help to talk."

"Good. How did Johann Smith's guards happen to be so Johnny-on-the-spot, yet not quite?"

"Oh. The poor darling tried to save ten minutes. She was a blood donor—AB-Negative, and—"

"Oh! Now I know why ‘Miss' Smith has seemed vaguely familiar. I saw her once, I'm now certain, giving blood to a patient I had been called in to support. A lovely girl, with a warm disposition, friendly, who dressed in, um, exotic styles."

"Erotic styles you mean, let's not use euphemisms. Yes, Eunice did. She knew she was beautiful and did not mind sharing her beauty. Played up to it."

"I wish I had known her."

"I wish you had, Doctor; your life would have been richer thereby. If she had a call to give blood, Johann's guards were under orders to drive her. Protect her. Pick her up at her door, escort her to the car, deliver her, wait for her. But this was an emergency and she lives—lived—nineteen levels up in one of those beehives in the north end. Vehicle lift, sure—but not able to lift the sort of armor Johann owned. Owns. So the poor darling decided to save ten minutes and used the passenger elevator without waiting for escort. And that's where she was jumped. Killed."

"A pity. I suppose she didn't know that we can always stretch a patient an extra ten minutes if we know a donor is on the way."

"Maybe she did, maybe she didn't—but it is charac­teristic of Eunice Branca that she tried to hurry."

"A pity. You can put your shirt on. How old did you say you were?"

"I didn't say. Seventy-two is staring me in the face."

"I'm amazed. You seem to be younger—internally I mean, not necessarily your face—"

"So I'm ugly. I know it."

"I think ‘distinguished' is the accepted term. You seem much younger, physiologically. Say twenty years."

"So I take my hormones."

"I'm not sure you need them. Go home if you wish. Or stay. If you stay, I'd like to put a monitor on your heart. Professional interest." (And to make damn sure you don't conic out, old fellow—sometimes a heart stops for no good reason, after a shock such as you have had.)

"Uh...I am tired. Could I skip dinner and go straight to bed? With maybe a twelve-hour dose instead of eight?"

"No trouble."

Soon Jake Salomon was in bed and asleep. Hedrick ate, looked in on his patient, left orders with the night watch to call him if the displays exceeded certain tolerances, went to bed and to sleep; he never needed the drugs he prescribed.

Despite sedation, Johann Smith's dreams were troubled. Once the old man in the borrowed skull muttered, "Eunice?" (I'm here, Boss. Go back to sleep.) "All right, my dear. Just wanted to know where you'd gone." (Quit fretting, Boss. I'm here.) Johann smiled in his sleep and then slept, quietly, no more bad dreams.