She couldn’t decide whether she was puzzled or irritated, but whichever she was, the quaver returned to her voice as she asked, “And would you please enlighten me as to the nature of ‘cryonic suspension’? Or would you rather prolong my suspense?”
“Suspension is the process of being frozen cold enough to preserve the body. Once suspended, you can wait indefinitely for science and technology to figure out how to cure the problems of aging… and also to figure out how to restore you from your suspended state.”
“I see.” Kath raised an eyebrow. “From your phraseology, may I presume that no one has yet been ‘restored’?”
The mountain climber’s shoulders sagged from a weight no muscles could hold up. “I’m afraid not. Still, suspension gives one a chance to survive. It seems likely—or at least possible—that science will eventually figure out how to get one back. Given the nature of an advance that revolutionary, one can reasonably take it a step farther and predict that restoration of the body will restore youth, into the bargain. I believe the technology to achieve this is just a matter of time, not feasibility. As people in the field say, being suspended is the second worst thing that can happen to you.”
Kath did not reply immediately. Could it be true? Science had done amazing things in her own lifetime. She remembered horse-drawn carts from her childhood, yet she had also watched men land on the Moon. She did have faith that science would do amazing things after she was gone, could it truly perform even this miracle? Mr. Herrick was so certain! Just like herself… just like Spence. Damn him!
The pain stabbed behind her eyes again. She stepped back, involuntarily, leaning against the wall for a moment with her eyes closed. But she recovered quickly, and said, “Perhaps being suspended is even the third worst thing that can happen.”
“Are you OK?”
“Yes, just a touch of vertigo—it comes and goes.” She rubbed her eyes. “Tell me why you’re so sure that science will triumph over death.”
He pursed his lips. “Well, I know that they’ve already brought at least one man back from death.”
“Really,” she said skeptically. “I had no idea. Has he become a zombie?”
Mr. Herrick laughed. “No, he’s just a normal man. He died during an operation to save him from a brain aneurism.”
Pain stabbed her again. “A brain aneurism?”
“Yes, it’s a weak spot in a blood vessel wall. The wall expands, and eventually bursts. In the brain, it will kill you when it bursts. The condition was considered inoperable until just recently.”
“Why?”
“If you operate, you’ll spill as much blood as if the aneurism burst.”
“Not a pretty picture,” Kath said.
“No, but they saved him anyway—though they had to kill him first.”
“My heavens!” Kath reached for a mocking tone, but her sense of wonder hampered the effect.
Nevertheless, Mr. Herrick caught her intention. He frowned at her… and then caught the laughter in her eyes, and laughed himself. “I take this subject very seriously,” he said, “I’m sorry if I’m boring you. It’s just that… of all the people in the world I would like to see restored and renewed… the very first would be you.”
She blushed again. Oh my, another grandiose, gratuitous compliment, she thought. But he still looked so intense, so like Spence, even when he laughed. “Go on,” she said, “I’m listening.”
He looked at her for a moment.
“You were telling me about how they killed the man with the aneurism,” she reminded him.
“That’s right. Well, when they put him on the operating table, the first thing they did was lower his body temperature to 60 degrees.”
Kath shivered, though the room was toasty warm. “That would kill me, all right.”
“And by most standards, that in itself would have killed him, since his heart stopped and they had to pump blood with a machine. But that’s not all they did. After all, even at 60 degrees, if they operated they’d still spill plenty of blood. And he would still die a real death. No, the cooling in this case was just a preliminary step. The astonishing step came next: they removed all his blood.”
“All of it?” she asked, truly astonished for the first time since… for a very long time indeed.
He smiled. “All of it. You see, the reason they had lowered his body temperature was to slow the rate at which the cells of his body consumed oxygen. They estimated that, at 60 degrees, he could survive for almost an hour without any blood in his body, without any side effects.”
He paused, as if expecting her to figure it out from there, and sure enough, Kath understood. “So since there wasn’t any blood in his body, they could go in and operate on the aneurism without any bleeding.”
“Exactly,” he said, smiling. “And after they repaired the blood vessel wall, they pumped his blood back in, raised his temperature and—”
“And he woke up feeling like a zombie.”
Mr. Herrick smiled. “Probably. He certainly met the basic requirement-after all, for an hour he had been dead by every clinical measure of death ever devised. He had no heart-beat, he had no brain activity, he was as lifeless as the diamond in your earring.”
“And he’s fine now?”
“Very much so.”
“Well, Mr. Herrick, that certainly is an impressive story. Truly a miracle of science. But, ahhh, I seem to have forgotten: What exactly was the point?”
“The point was that this man survived for an hour preserved by the cold, without even a drop of blood in his body. So I’d hope that, given this example, you might find it more feasible to believe that by keeping you colder still, they could preserve you longer. Indefinitely, in fact—until they had the technology to make you young again.”
“That could be a very long time, Mr. Herrick—after all, they would have a rather titanic job with me, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hardly any job at all. Miss Tepper. It is clear that your mind is still young—and so is your heart.”
Kath suppressed an urge to stamp her foot. How could that man get to her, again and again? Suddenly the pain overwhelmed her again. “Mr. Herrick,” she said, putting a hand to her head, “perhaps we should continue this conversation at another…” and suddenly she was falling. The last thing she saw was his eyes.
The window in her hospital room had a view of Rainier—not as good as the view from Dolly’s house, perhaps, but a view nonetheless. Even though the damned mountain was seventy miles away she couldn’t seem to get away from it.
But even the mountain was not as tenacious as Mr. Herrick. No, indeed. She shook her head as she looked at him. “Yes, Mr. Herrick, it is an aneurism. No, Mr. Herrick, I do not need any special kind of surgery that had not been generally accepted by the medical profession.”
“Very well, Miss Tepper. It’s not my habit to beg people to do things for their own good.” He nodded to her in polite disappointment, although it was clear that he wanted to say more. She was glad that the argument was over.
But then the silly fool got down on his knees. “Miss Tepper, I beg you, one last time, please reconsider.”
“Oh, posh and nonsense!” She would have stomped her foot had she been able to stand “I have lived my life well. The doctor says I have a little time left, and that is all I want.”
He stood up and glared back at her. “You aren’t being rational!”
“Rationality is much overrated. Even you, Mr. Herrick, don’t hold it in too high a regard, as your actions demonstrate.”
A large smile crossed his face at this opportunity to replay Kath’s own words back to her. “Why, I should say I do! I demand, Miss Tepper, that you produce examples.”