Under the Knife(62)

“In a way, replacing the anesthesiologist is even more straightforward than replacing the surgeon,” Chase said. “Anesthesiologists usually don’t have as much to do during operations as surgeons.”

“Hey!” Dr. Chow hammed it up by placing his hands on his hips. Also prearranged. By Chase, naturally.

“Don’t worry, Hank, you guys won’t be out of a job anytime soon!”

“That’s because we’re the ones who actually keep patients alive while my surgical colleagues here rearrange their insides! Seriously. Much of what we do as anesthesiologists depends on gathering information about the patient—temperature, pulse, blood pressure, oxygen levels—and acting on it appropriately to ensure the patient remains comfortable, asleep, and safe throughout the surgery.”

Chow didn’t possess Chase’s easy command of an audience. But he’d always been a good lecturer: clear and articulate, capable of delivering complicated information.

Chow said, “Morpheus collects this information, interprets it, and automatically fine-tunes the levels of anesthesia medications the patient receives. We humans keep control over everything else, including putting the patient to sleep before the surgery.”

Chase nodded. “The concept behind Morpheus is the same as behind Delores: to automate routine portions of the operation.”

“Could these robots, working together, perform an operation entirely without people?” someone from the back asked. “Without any doctors?”

“In theory, yes,” Chase said. “All of the components are there. We just haven’t tested them together yet.”

“Autopilots on planes can automatically make corrections to prevent disasters,” a black woman standing in front said. “Are there safety features like that on your robots?”

“Yes, Ms. Grant,” Chase said. “Delores is programmed to recognize problems and take immediate and appropriate action without the need for direct human intervention.”

“What kinds of problems?”

“Bleeding. Delores is programmed to stop bleeding.” Nobody could see it because of his mask, but Rita was certain that Chase’s smile would have dazzled and reassured. “But we’re not going to worry about any bleeding here today.”





SEBASTIAN


“Sebastian? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, boss,” Sebastian murmured. Finney had switched his signal back on.

“No problems, I assume?”

“No. None.” Standing with the observers, Sebastian shifted his weight and touched Alfonso’s dog tag through his scrub shirt as Montgomery walked up to the large video screen, placing himself to one side so that he could simultaneously face both it and the assembled group.

The boredom Sebastian had felt earlier in the auditorium was gone. Everything over the past year had been leading up to this. He felt tense but calm: supremely focused, adrenaline surging through every part of him, like it used to right before a combat mission. He scanned the room, taking it all in, searching for anything that might interfere with what was about to happen. Observers. Anesthesiologists. Wu and her assistants. Robot. Everything in its place.

His eyes lit briefly on the patient: a vague lump hidden beneath sterile blue sheets, the robot’s arms pointed at its center.

He forced himself to look away.

He wouldn’t think about what came next.

Alfonso, he knew, would not have approved.

“Gorgeous picture,” Montgomery said. A red dot, projected from a laser pointer Montgomery held in his hand, danced across the large video screen on the wall. “Thanks, Rita. Okay, folks. This is the live picture from Delores’s camera. You are now seeing exactly what Delores is seeing. For you nonsurgeons, carbon dioxide is currently flowing under pressure into the patient’s abdomen, pushing everything out of the way. That’s why we see her organs so clearly.”

“Would the carbon dioxide hurt? If you were awake?” Grant asked.

“Most definitely! The pain would be excruciating. Good thing the patient’s asleep! Now. Here’s the liver.”

The red dot moved over a glistening, brown, wedge-shaped object that took up three-quarters of the screen. “You can appreciate how big it is, relative to everything else. Very healthy-looking in this patient, I might add. A remarkable organ, the liver. It has many crucial functions, mostly involved with digestion and detoxification.”

“Can you live without it? Like the gallbladder?” It was the same guy who’d asked about the gallbladder earlier.

Idiot. What kind of an asshole would ask a dumb-ass question like that?

“Oh, no. Without your liver, you’d die. Quickly.” The laser pointer circled a small swathe of green just visible underneath the brown edge of the liver, like a Manzanilla olive lying in dirt. “See that little hint of green there, toward the right? That’s the gallbladder, tucked underneath the liver. The gallbladder is tethered in place by its blood supply and by a hollow tube called the bile duct, both of which need to be safely cut. We’ll see more of them soon.”

The laser pointer slid over the remainder of the screen as Montgomery pointed out more anatomy. Falciform ligament. Omentum. Small bowel. Large bowel. Diaphragm. “Oh, and if any of the nondoctors feel the need to sit down, or step out, we’ve provided plenty of chairs for everyone.”