Stanford and Walker watched as Andrew gently lifted the first vial and opened it. It began hissing, and steam rising from the vial turned into a freezing cloud that seemed to saturate the room.
"All right," Andrew said. "Now, the first thing we have to do?the first thing-" His eyes widened.
He was choking, his face turning chalky white. He tried to speak, but no words came out.
Stanford and Walker watched in horror as Andrew's body tumbled to the floor.
Walker hastily capped the vial and closed the case. Stanford hurried to the wall and pressed a button that activated a giant fan that swept the frigid gas vapor out of the lab.
When the air was clear, the two scientists opened the door and hurriedly carried Andrew outside.
Tanner, walking down the hallway, saw what was happening and a panicky look came over his face.
He ran over to the two men and looked down at his brother. "What the hell is going on?" Stanford said, "There's been an accident and-" "What kind of accident?" Tanner was screaming like a madman. "What have you done to my brother?" People were starting to gather around. "Call 911. Never mind. We haven't time for that. We'll get him to the hospital in one of our cars."
* * *
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Andrew was lying on a gurney in a room of the emergency ward at St. Vincent's Hospital in Manhattan. There was a pulsating oxygen mask on his face and an IV in his arm. Two doctors were hovering over him.
Tanner was frantically pacing up and down. "You've got to take care of whatever is wrong," he yelled. "Now!" One of the doctors said, "Mr. Kingsley, I must ask you to leave the room." "No," Tanner shouted. "I'm staying right here with my brother." He walked over to the gurney where Andrew was lying, unconscious, and took his hand and squeezed it. "Come on, bro. Wake up. We need you." There was no response.
Tears filled Tanner's eyes. "You're going to be fine. Don't worry. We're going to fly in the best doctors in the world. You're going to get well." He turned to the doctors. "I want a private suite and twenty-four-hour private nurses, and I want a cot put in his room. I'm staying with him." "Mr. Kingsley, we'd like to finish our examination." Tanner said defiantly,
"I'll be waiting in the hall."
* * *
ANDREW WAS RUSHED downstairs for a number of MRI and CAT scans as well as extensive blood work. A more sophisticated scan, a PET scan, was scheduled. Afterward, he was moved to a suite where three doctors were tending him.
Tanner was in the hallway, sitting in a chair, waiting. When one of the doctors finally came out of Andrew's room, Tanner leaped to his feet. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?" The doctor hesitated. "We're transferring him immediately to the Walter Reed Army Medical Center, in Washington, for further diagnosis, but frankly, Mr. Kingsley, we don't have much hope." "What the hell are you talking about?" Tanner was yelling. "Of course he's going to get well. He was in that lab only a few minutes." The doctor was about to reprimand him, but he looked up, and Tanner's eyes were filled with tears.
Tanner rode to Washington in the ambulance plane with his unconscious brother.
He kept reassuring him during the entire flight. "The doctors say you're going to be fine?
They're going to give you something to make you well?All you need is a little rest." Tanner put his arms around his brother. "You've got to get well in time for us to go to Sweden to pick up your Nobel Prize."
* * *
FOR THE NEXT three days, Tanner slept on a cot in Andrew's room and stayed by his brother's side as much as the doctors would allow it. Tanner was in the waiting room at Walter Reed when one of the attending doctors approached him.
"How is he doing?" Tanner asked. "Is he-?" He saw the expression on the doctor's face. "What is it?" "I'm afraid it's very bad. Your brother is lucky to be alive. Whatever that experimental gas was, it was extremely toxic." "We can bring in doctors from-" "It's no use. I'm afraid the toxins have already affected your brother's brain cells." Tanner winced. "But isn't there a cure for-for what he has?" The doctor said caustically, "Mr. Kingsley, the army doesn't even have a name for it yet, and you want to know if there's a cure? No. I'm sorry. I'm afraid he's-he's never going to be himself again." Tanner stood there, his fists clenched, his face white.
"Your brother's awake now. You can go in and see him, but only for a few minutes." When Tanner walked into Andrew's hospital room, Andrew's eyes were open. He stared at his visitor, a blank expression on his face.
The phone rang and Tanner moved to answer it. It was General Barton. "I'm terribly sorry about what happened to-" "You bastard! You told me that my brother wouldn't be in any danger." "I don't know what went wrong, but I assure you-" Tanner slammed down the receiver. He heard his brother's voice and turned.
"Where-where am I?" Andrew mumbled.
"You're at Walter Reed hospital, in Washington." "Why? Who's sick?" "You are, Andrew." "What happened?" "Something went wrong with the experiment." "I don't remember-" "It's all right. Don't worry. You'll be taken care of. I'll see to it." Tanner watched Andrew's eyes close.
He took one last look at his brother lying in bed and left the room.
* * *
PRINCESS SENT FLOWERS to the hospital. Tanner planned to call her, but his secretary said,
"Oh, she phoned. She had to go out of town. She'll call you as soon as she returns. She said to tell you that she loves you." A week later, Andrew and Tanner were back in New York. Word about what had happened to Andrew had raced through Kingsley Group. Without him in charge, would the think tank continue to exist?