The Jigsaw Man (8 page)

clear voice. "I'm so glad we can finally meet."

He had a slight accent when he spoke—European for

sure, maybe German. It was slight but detectable, espe¬

cially when he said
finally,
pronouncing the word with

a
V
sound, rather than an
F.
His tone was friendly and

he seemed genuinely happy to be meeting us. Right off

the bat, just as Drake had predicted, I liked him. I couldn't

help but feel a little in awe. I'd never accomplished any¬

thing in my whole worthless life and here was this

courageous man who'd earned worldwide recognition

and countless achievements all from the seat of that

chair. He'd been dealt a bad hand in this world and had

probably never complained half as much as I had. Made

me feel like a first-class loser. I didn't deserve to sit in

the same room as this guy.

Drake took care of the introductions for everyone.

"You'll have to excuse me if I don't get up to shake

everyone's hand," Dr. Marshall said, and everyone

chuckled, especially Red Beard and W h e e l s , who could

appreciate the humor far more than Bill or I.

"First of all, I want to thank you for agreeing to come

here today. I know how great your sacrifices will be and

I want you to know I don't fake them lightly. W h a t you

are about to do is a very special thing, not only for m e ,

but also for medical science and all the future people

who will surely benefit from our successes. I have a

much more personal reason to be grateful to the four of

you, but I'll get to that later."

Dr. Marshall paused to whisper something in Drake's

ear. Drake, in return, nodded, stood up, and exited the

room through a metal door off to our left. The door

swung shut, cutting off my view of him, so I turned my

attention back to the man on the podium.

"Okay," Dr. Marshall said." We've got a lot to cover, so

let's get started. As Mr. Drake has surely informed you,

I'm a surgeon who left behind years of public service to

concentrate my efforts on private research. My work here

is basically no different than any average research scien¬

tist, except I fund all the projects myself without the need

to grovel at the feet of the various bankers, government

agencies, and private sector financial backers. You'd be

amazed how much time is wasted by wonderfully tal¬

ented people who have to delay their research to beg for

further grants and loans. Trust me, delays and insuffi¬

cient funding can destroy you in this game.

"Fortunately, money has never been an issue here. Con¬

sequently, my research tends to flow along much smoother

and fester than m o s t If there's some new advancement or

technology available that will help whatever I'm working

on progress quicker, I go out and get it. Cost be damned.

Money is rather insignificant Knowledge is far more im¬

portant to me than dollars and cents."

One t h i n g was for sure. Dr. Marshall was a good

speaker. His compelling words and the conviction in

his voice as he said them had everyone's rapt attention.

The small conference room was silent while he spoke

and when I glanced at my three companions, they were

all nodding along with the good doctor's spiel, all of

them obviously j u s t as adamant in their thirst for knowl

edge over the lowly pursuit of cash.

W h a t a crock of shit!

This man was a billionaire—he could afford to talk

like that. We were all street b u m s , two or three missed

meals away from starving to death. N o n e of us wanted

knowledge. We wanted cash. Two million bucks' worth

to be exact, or why else would we be sitting here in this

room? I personally wasn't here to give my arm away for

the benefit of mankind—screw that—I was here for the

benefit of Michael Fox.

Still, the doctor's words were sincere and moved me

enough that I found myself bobbing my head at all the ap¬

propriate spots along with the other guys. W h o was I to

disagree with a billionaire, especially one who was about

to make me rich? If Dr. Marshall said we were here for the

beneftof our fellow man and to acquire knowledge—right

on, dude—that's what we were here for.

"For over thirty years," Dr. Marshall continued, "I've

concentrated the bulk of my studies on the human ner¬

vous system, or more precisely, the repairing and heal¬

ing of these nerves when they are damaged or accidentally

severed. Things like spinal column injuries, paralysis,

and accidental amputations are my specialties. Someday

I hope to tackle dreadful diseases such as Parkinson's,

epilepsy, and multiple sclerosis, which are all ailments

caused by genetically faulty or accidentally damaged

nervous systems, but cures for them are still a pipe dream

and a long way off in the future.

"When I started, people publicly called me a fool. No

one wanted to mess with the nervous system because it

was considered a losing battle. By losing, I mean there

was no money in it. If you couldn't get positive results,

you couldn't get the funds to further y o u r research, so

why bother? It was easier for scientists to choose other

.areas of specialization, where funding and results were

more attainable. I disagreed, and by the time I went

into private research, no one was calling me a fool any¬

more.

"Since then, there have been great strides m a d e ; not

only by m e , but by many dedicated scientists the world

over. I j u s t happen to have made more strides than

most."

Drake casually reentered the room, gave his employer

an affirmative nod of his head, and sat back down in the

first row of seats. As if this was the signal he'd been

waiting on, Dr. Marshall sat up straighter in his chair

and started rubbing his hands together, his excitement

clearly visible. W h e n he spoke, his voice was louder

than before and his slight accent even more pro¬

nounced.

"I could probably sit and talk for hours about medical

advancements and breakthroughs, but it's doubtful

you'd understand much of it, No disrespect, of course,

but sometimes the details can be a bit dry and confus¬

ing. I'd much rather show you what we've accomplished

so you can see for yourself how far we've come.

"We'll be taking a tour of the facility after lunch, but

for now, I've taken the liberty of creating a video pre¬

sentation of some of the highlights of our program.

That's why we've met here in this cramped room, in¬

stead of somewhere more comfortable. Mr. Drake has

assured me the video is ready to roll, so why don't we

watch it and then discuss things after it's done. Fair

enough?"

We all agreed that was fine—what else were we go¬

ing to say? Drake waited for his employer's approval,

then went over to the switch on the wall, ready to dim

the lights.

"Oh, wait a minute, Mr. Drake," Dr. Marshall stalled.

"Perhaps I should say a few words about what we'll be

seeing on this video before we j u m p right in. It's j u s t

that the material you're about to see, well, it's a little

graphic
in nature. Probably more so than you're used t o ,

I'm afraid. Medical science isn't pretty, to be bluntly

honest. Sometimes it can be downright nasty, but that

can't be helped. If the sight of blood makes you squea¬

mish or nauseous, feel free to close y o u r eyes or look

away. I thought it would be easier for you to see it here

first, on video, rather than simply marching you into

the labs unprepared.

"This will certainly prepare you for our tour later,

but the point of the video isn't to shock anyone; it's to

prove what we are about to attempt here can and
is
be¬

ing done. I truly believe we are going to succeed."

I wasn't sure about the rest of the guys, but I was sit¬

ting there wondering what he meant by that. W h a t was

it we were about to attempt? I considered asking the

doctor but he was busy shuffling his chair off to the side

so he wouldn't block anyone's view of the video.

"Anyway," the doctor continued, once he'd finished

repositioning himself, "enough said. Mr. Drake, let's

have a look, shall we?"

Drake immediately hit the lights, and a m o m e n t later

the large white video screen blazed into life.

C H A P T E R E I G H T

In total, the presentation probably only lasted fifteen

minutes, but it seemed three or four times that long.

It's hard to describe what I saw—body parts, blood, and

these strange machines that looked straight out of some

futuristic science-fiction movie. It was horrifying yet

strangely exhilarating at the same time.

Dr. Marshall had obviously developed ways to keep

organs and limbs
alive,
I guess was the best word. Some¬

how, he could take a severed leg, for instance, and hook

it up to this machine that continually pumped blood

through it, as if the leg were still attached to a body.

H u n d r e d s , maybe thousands, of these tiny wires were

attached to the stump and they must have been trans¬

mitting electrical stimuli to the exposed nerve endings,

causing the leg to move. The wires must have been

pumping j u i c e pretty good too, because in every exam¬

ple we were shown, the arm, leg, heart, or
whatever,

would be twitching and dancing to beat the band.

It was an unusual sight indeed to sit and watch a dis¬

embodied hand open and close, flutter its fingers, then

flop around spastically on the top of a lab table. It scared

the hell out of me at first—creepiest damn thing I'd

ever seen—-but the more I watched the steady stream of

examples, it became more bizarre than creepy. Bizarre

is probably too strong of a word. Strange, maybe? Yeah,

I like that better. It was so damn
strange
to see a foot,

cut off j u s t above the ankle, rhythmically tapping its

toes to some unheard beat.

The most amazing thing by far—and if I'd seen it

anywhere else I'd have laughed and sworn it was faked—

was a human head severed below the chin, with its spi¬

nal column still attached but openly exposed in a glass

chamber filled with some milky amber-colored fluid. It

was the head of a male, a dark-haired man whose age

was virtually impossible for me to even guess at. His

eyes would open and close every four or five seconds,

his nose twitched steadily, and once during the thirty

seconds the head was on film, his mouth opened up wide

in what appeared to be a soundless scream.

Below the chin, where the neck should have been,

several red and blue color-coded tubes disappeared up

into the neck cavity, somehow connected to the poor

man's brain to supply it with life-sustaining blood. Be¬

low, submerged in the glass tank, a vast network of wires

and electrodes were connected along the length of the

man's spinal column, causing it to thrash around in its

watery home like the tail of a filleted fish that stub¬

bornly refused to die.

W h e n the video finally ended and Drake hit the lights,

the conference room was bathed in an uncomfortable

silence. No one seemed to have a clue what to do or say.

I mean really, what
could
you say after seeing something

like that? It would be different if you knew this was

some cheesy horror flick made with ketchup and cheap

special effects, but that wasn't the case. This was

real—all of it—even the severed head.

Still, as shocking and grotesque as Dr. Marshall's ex¬

periments certainly were, in the aftermath of the video, I

found myself far more amazed at the doctor's work than

"How on earth did you do it?" Red Beard wondered.

"How do you keep them alive?"

"That's the million-dollar question, isn't it? That's

always been the crux of the problem. For years, sur¬

geons have been able to reattach severed limbs and other

areas of massive nerve damage, but the problem has al¬

ways been with the nerves dying and no longer being

able to function. It's useless to sew someone's arm back

on if the nerves are dead and it's j u s t going to hang there

uselessly. Things
are
getting better and sometimes the

surgeons are getting lucky with eighty to ninety per¬

cent function return, but more times than not, the pa¬

tient is only regaining about thirty to forty percent of

their original dexterity.

"Is that adequate? I, for one, say no. My goal here is,

and always has been, one hundred percent. My patients

will achieve total use and control of their damaged limbs.

That's a rather lofty, and some would say arrogant,

claim, but I firmly believe it's realistic.

"The trick is stopping the nerves from dying, which

is far easier said than done, but it isn't fantasy anymore.

W h a t you have to understand is that the human neuro¬