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Chapter Ten

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‘I disagree,’ Amit said forcefully. ‘The process of cryonics has already been shown to work on animals in laboratories. They have survived three hours using existing medical technology. Even longer periods if the preservation solution is continuously circulated.’

Mr Barry Lowe was staring at him, as was the student doctor.

‘You seem well-informed,’ Lowe said. ‘But three hours isn’t a hundred years. It’s a fantasy playing on peoples’ fears of death. Humans have been searching for immortality since they became intelligent enough to realize that one day they would die. It used to be just religion that offered immortality, but now this pseudoscience has got in on the act.’ He paused to concentrate on what he was doing – a hernia operation. The discussion had begun after he’d asked if anyone had seen the documentary on television the night before on cryonics, and had quickly become heated.

‘You can’t put religion and cryonics in the same category,’ Amit retaliated. ‘And it doesn’t matter if it’s three hours or a thousand years. At minus 190 Celsius there is no cell degeneration.’

‘And you can be sure of that?’ Lowe asked sceptically, glancing up at him. ‘There is no proof whatsoever. Those frozen bodies could be mush when they are thawed.’

‘Also, cell degeneration will have already occurred,’ the student doctor put in. ‘My cousin is a doctor at Saint Claire’s where that fifteen-year-old boy died. It was over an hour before he was put on ice.’

‘That’s appalling!’ Amit cried passionately, unable to hide his feelings any longer. ‘It’s a breach of our code of ethics.’

‘That’s a bit strong,’ Lowe said. ‘The boy was dead.’

‘Temporarily, and his wishes were that he should be frozen. The system failed him.’

‘Why the wait?’ Lowe now asked the student, as he began to close the wound.

‘My cousin said the instructions were not to touch him as it needed someone trained from ELECT who knew what to do.’

‘Who knew how to stabilize him,’ Amit clarified.

‘His mother phoned a member of ELECT,’ the student continued. ‘But he got stuck in traffic.’

Lowe laughed cynically. ‘The traffic always gets you in the end!’

‘I assumed the boy was put on a heart-lung machine during that time?’ Amit said.

‘No. The staff didn’t realize he should be. He was dead and his organs weren’t going to be used for transplant.’

Amit shook his head. ‘Appalling. What a waste. When I …’ he stopped. ‘It’s crucial the patient is kept on a heart-lung machine until intravenous lines can be put in and protective medications administered.’

‘You know a lot about it,’ Lowe said. ‘Is bringing people back from the dead a hobby of yours?’

The theatre staff laughed.

Amit fought to retain control. Ignorant lot. What did they know? But he had expected better of Lowe, a surgeon. He’d be laughing on the other side of his face one day when he showed them what could be achieved. Just you wait and see, he thought.

The Doctor

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