Red Rainbow G Johanson (i am malala young readers edition .txt) 📖

his practice but asked if he could finish his appointments first. Gehring did not like to be kept waiting but allowed it as Gaye seemed far more enthusiastic about talking with him than Friese had been. Gehring showed up at half five as arranged, sitting in the reception area as the patients filed out, most of the staff too. Dr Gaye escorted his last patient, a young man on crutches, to the door leading outside, which he opened for him. The young man joked about not needing to come back to see him for years after that visit, which had clearly been a marathon appointment. Gaye pointed at Gehring and said jauntily, “Mr Gehring! Come to my office.”

Gehring followed him, waiting until he sat down in the warm seat the patient had sat on at length to say, “You said 5:30.” It was close to seven now.

“It took longer than planned. Medicine is like that. Karlson would have been more thorough with him than I was, believe me. You got my attention with bandying his name about.”

“Your old colleague.”

“More than that. Good friend from my college days...”

Karlson introduced Gaye to Subject KVC17 as an observer during a session. Karlson asked him to talk about his fiancée, Subject KVC17 eventually able to speak freely about how he felt like he was conning her, her love unearned and undeserved. The mask which he’d been so self-conscious in now helped him open up two-and a-bit years into his treatment. Gaye was silent throughout the hour bar a cursory greeting and handshake and the same as Subject KVC17 left.

“You can tell he’s a handsome boy even with that on, but so what?” Gaye said, feeling that the hype that Karlson had built up around this patient turned out to be a let-down.

“Unremarkable, yes?”

“His mental state couldn’t be described that way.”

“Ask my colleagues what they think of him. They will hype him up more than me.”

“I doubt that. He’s not their guinea pig.”

“They’re my guinea pigs too, their reaction to him. I arranged it so that he sees the same patients before and after his appointment, made their slots coincide as much as possible. One man offered him work, another offered him to come to dinner with his wife and daughter. You’ve heard the man speak. I don’t find him charismatic.”

“He may hide those neuroses away outside of here.”

“I guarantee your opinion of him will change if you see him without the mask.”

“I’d bet my house it wouldn’t...”

Gehring didn’t have to ask many questions or explain why he was interested in Karlson. Gaye spoke at length without prompting, going back to their days sharing rooms in college, their zeal to learn.

“Karlson was always driven by his work. He lived to heal and was always keen to make breakthroughs. We were involved in an experiment with 10 test subjects. Four had minor adverse reactions so the experiment was cut short. He objected strongly and wanted to carry on with the other six who were all fine. Our teacher told us that 40% was too high a percentage and I recall his reaction – an ill-advised one. ‘60% is better than 40.’ He believed that pioneers made progress by carrying on even when things did get difficult. He looked to the bigger picture, the welfare of the world and future generations ahead of the people in front of him. The people who placed their absolute trust in him.”

“You started working together again after medical school.”

“Only two years ago. He was still a pioneer spirit, still had his experiments. They thought they were his patients. Three of them, in particular, were interesting projects. A man who caused havoc with any device, electrical or not. A woman with a gastrointestinal condition so virulent it swept through anybody who came into contact with her. Believe me, not a pleasant experience. And a man universally liked by everyone he met who saw his face.”

“César Vadeboncoeur.”

“Correct, Mr Gehring. These three cases were very, very dear to him – and he proposed giving them away for a prize greater to him. Medical ethics held him back. We know about the experiments some of your countrymen have been doing. I’m sickened yet interested in what they discover. I am very like him, but he was my canary in the mine – by looking at him, I could see where to stop. He didn’t have an equivalent to show him the line.”

“You’re saying he wanted in on the experiments in the camps?”

“Precisely that. César Vadeboncoeur, Guillaume Vaux and Nadine Tasse were the high sacrifice to earn him a seat at the head table. He was making no headway with them. He told me it would only be Guillaume and Nadine because he knew I’d object to César, but I knew he meant all three. Guillaume and Nadine wouldn’t impress enough. He gave me no choice,” Gaye said, shocking Gehring by producing a gun from his pocket which he pointed at him.

“Have you gone mad, man? You won’t get away with this.”

“I got away with one murder already. I even spoke at his funeral.”

“You won’t even get one if you’re fool enough to do this. Shoot me, you may as well shoot yourself now.” It was troubling to hear he’d killed before, especially hearing as to why, to save precious César. Gehring couldn’t rely on him lacking the nerve to go through with it because he’d proven he could kill for his master. Renfield would be easier to talk down.

“I’m not quite as easily influenced as you think. I know what happens if I let you go. Killing you has its risks, but the war is nearly over, and it’s only going one way. The New Republic will not charge me for killing a Nazi or for killing a collaborator, not that that will even come to light. And I have a character reference that would swing any jury if it did. The Love Phantom christened me Hippocrates.”

What did that even mean? “They have not reached