Part 51 (1/2)

”I took care of it, trust me,” Van de Vliet declared. ”In the meantime, I'll try to maintain Kristen's mother under sedation as long as possible. But we can't keep her out of touch forever. That would be flirting with kidnapping.”

”I'll send Ken over to West Eleventh Street to check out her place,”

Bartlett said. ”If she's there, he'll get her.”

And he signed off, the image on the computer going dark.

Van de Vliet felt a wave of apprehension. Every day it got worse. Would any of the other patients develop the Syndrome? Or was its development unique to the Beta?

Kristen had agreed of her own free will to undergo the Beta, and she'd been warned that any experimental procedure involved significant risk.

She'd signed release doc.u.ments absolving Gerex of any liability. But when treatments go awry, patients tend not to recall the releases they signed. Undoubtedly, she'd now conveniently forgotten that fact.

a.s.suming she still remembered anything.

Time to go back to the OR and see how Katherine was doing. If she seemed completely stabilized and coherent, she could be moved down to the intensive-care area in the floor below, the subbas.e.m.e.nt. That way absolutely n.o.body could get to her. He clicked off the computer and walked back to the OR.

”Karl, she's awake,” David said as he walked in. He'd been monitoring her. ”It's probably okay to move her.”

Thank G.o.d, Van de Vliet thought. Maybe there's some way to reason with her rationally. He moved over and looked down. Her hair was soaked with sweat and she looked very, very tired.

”Mrs. Starr, can you understand me? I'm Dr. Van de Vliet. I need to talk to you about your daughter, Kristen.”

”Who ... who are you?” she mumbled, her eyes trying to focus.

”I'm Kristen's physician. She came to see me some months back. Do you recall? About her ... skin problem. I seem to remember you came here with her at one point.”

She stared at him mutely for a moment, then closed her eyes and nodded.

”At that time, Mrs. Starr, we discussed some radical treatment options.

Things that hadn't been tried before. Do you have any recollection of that?”

She opened her eyes again and stared at him, trying to focus.

”You said she'd be all right,” she mumbled, slurring the words. ”Then your receptionist told me she'd gone to New Mexico. But I got a letter-- ”

”That story was to protect her professionally,” he lied. ”She was afraid the press might find out she was here and start speculating about her health. But now she's in the post-procedure phase of treatment. It may be a while longer before she's able to return to the normal life she's used to.”

”She's okay, isn't she?” came a plaintive, slurred mumble. ”In her letter it sounded like she'd lost her memory or something. She didn't sound right.”