"Well, I could show you how it's done on the duplicate, and then the
duplicate could fix me up."
Cal gritted his teeth, "And which one would I dispose of? No, Tinker.
It's bad enough this way!"
"Well, do it my way then!"
Cal fumbled for the needle and then with a steady hand he broke the
glass ampule and filled the needle. "Is this still good?"
"It never deteriorates in a vacuum. We must chance everything."
Cal inserted the needle and discharged the contents. His face was gray.
"Now," said Tinker. "I'm immobilized completely from the shoulder
blades down and can't harm myself. Cal, find the library and locate the
reel that will deal on vertebra and spinal operations."
"How do you know it is here?" demanded Cal.
"It's listed, in Murdoch's diary. Now quit arguing and go!"
"How come this diary isn't common knowledge?"
"Because too many prominent people did not want their names mentioned
as fostering Murdoch's surgery. Their offspring have never known about
it and the medical profession has been keeping it under their hats so
long that it has become a habit like the Px mark."
Cal located the library and consulted the card file. He returned with
a reel of film. He inserted the reel into the operating room projector
and focused it on the screen.
As the film progressed, Cal took the proper tools from the boiling
water, and placed them on a sterilized carrier.
Then as Tinker instructed him through a system of mirrors, Cal lifted
the scalpel and made his first incision.
With increasing skill, Cal applied retractors and hemostats and
tweezers. Tinker kept up a running fire of comment, and the motion
picture on the screen progressed as he did, with appropriate close-ups
to show the condition of the wound during each step. Cal came upon
the fractured bone as it said he should, and then though the fracture
was not just as that in the picture, Cal plied his instruments
carefully and lifted the crushed bone away from the spinal cord. With a
wide-field microscope, Cal inspected the cord.
"Can't tell, Tinker. I don't know anything about it."
"And I can't see it too well. Look, Cal. Don't touch it. It may be only
bruised. Run the projector over to the replacing-operation and put the
stuff back according to directions. If the cord is damaged, they can
repair it at the Association. You'll be responsible for getting me
there, anyway."
"All right," said Cal.
With tiny splints, Cal fastened the splintered bone back into place.
It was as painstaking a job as putting a fine watch back together
again, and as tedious as breaking the worst code in history. But Cal
succeeded finally, and the final wrappings were placed by hands that
were beginning to shake.
* * * * *
The plane from Northern Landing located them from Cal's master
oscillator and came in for a landing. The official in the plane wasted
no time. He ordered two of his helpers to install Tinker--stretcher
and all--in his flier and they all took off after leaving a guard at
Murdoch's Hoard.
* * * * *
Cal Blair headed up the walk from the gate to the front doors of the
Association with a springy step. He headed in with determination, but
was hailed by Tony Elliott. Tinker's brother grinned at Cal and shook
his hand.
Cal tried to leave, but Tony kept him for a moment.
"For a guy that hates surgery and space flying and roistering around,
Cal, you do all right."
"Look, Tony, I want to see Tink."
"I know. You haven't seen her since you brought her back six weeks ago,
have you."
"No, and I intend to rectify that error right now."
"You could have been here three weeks ago."
"No, I couldn't, I've been in Vilanortis, working with the fellows on
Murdoch's Hoard. After all, I'm not ... not--"
"Not twins? No, thank the Lord! O.K., Cal. Go on in."
Cal left in a hurry, and Tony said to the receiving clerk: "He's
changed."
"Cal found Tinker in a wheelchair in the conservatory. Tink!" he roared.
"Cal!" she answered. Then she arose from the wheelchair and came toward
him with a light, eager step.
Cal was a gentleman--he met her halfway.