Текст книги "Eagle in the Sky"

Автор книги: Wilbur Smith

Соавторы: Wilbur Smith
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switched out the top lights, plunging the room into utter darkness,

except for the pulsing green dot on the screen.

Are we ready now, Debra?  Look straight ahead, please.  Eyes open.

Soundlessly a brilliant burst of blue light filled the room, and

distinctly David saw the green dot on the screen jump out of its

established pattern, and for a beat or two it went haywire, then settled

again into the old rhythm.  Debra had seen the light flash, even though

she was unaware of it; the pulse of light had registered on her brain

and the machine had recorded her instinctive reaction.

The play with light went on for another twenty minutes while Ruby

adjusted the intensity of the light source and varied the transmissions.

At last he was satisfied, and turned the top lights up.

Well?  Debra demanded brightly.  Do I pass?  'There's nothing more I

want from you, Ruby told her.  You did just great, and everything is the

way we want it.  'Can I go now?  David can take you to lunch, but this

afternoon I want you at the radiologist's.  My receptionist arranged it

for 2:30, I believe, but you had best check with her.  Neatly Ruby

countered any attempt of David's to get him alone.

I shall let you know as soon as I have the X-ray results.  Here, I'll

write down the radiologist's address.  Ruby scribbled on his

prescription pad and handed it to David.  See me alone tomorrow io a. m.

David nodded and took Debra's arm.

He stared at Ruby a moment trying to draw some reaction from him, but he

merely shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes in a music-hall

comedian's gesture of uncertainty.

The Brig joined them for lunch in their suite at the Mount Nelson, for

David still could not endure the discomfort of the public rooms.  The

Brig drew upon some hidden spring of charm, as though sensing that his

help was needed, and he had both of them laughing naturally with stories

of Debra's childhood and the family's early days after leaving America.

David was grateful to him, for the time passed so quickly that he had to

hurry Debra to her appointment.

I am going to use two different techniques on you, my dear– David

wondered what it was about her that made all males over forty refer to

Debra as though she were twelve years old.  First of all we will do five

of what we call police mug shots, front, back, sides and top – The

radiologist was a red-faced, grey-haired man with big hands and heavy

shoulders like a professional wrestler.  We aren't even going to make

you take your clothes off – he chuckled, but David thought he detected a

faint note of regret.  Then after that, we are going to be terribly

clever and take a continuous moving shot of the inside of your head.

It's called tomography.

We are going to clamp your head to keep it still and the camera is going

to describe a circle around you, focused on the spot where all the

trouble is.  We are going to find out everything that's going on in that

pretty head of yours, I hope it doesn't shock you too much, doctor,

Debra told him, and he looked stunned for a moment, then let out a

delighted guffaw, and later David heard him repeating it to the sister

with gusto.

It was a long tedious business, and afterwards when they drove back to

the hotel, Debra leaned close to him and said, Let's go home, David.

Soon as we can?  'Soon as we can, he agreed.

David did not want it that way, but the Brig insisted on accompanying

David on his visit to Ruby Friedman the following morning.  For one of

the very few times in his life David had lied to Debra, telling her he

was meeting with the Morgan Trust accountants, and he had left her in a

lime-green bikini lying beside the hotel swimming pool, brown and slim

and lovely in the sunlight.

Ruby Friedman was brusque and businesslike.  He seated them opposite his

desk and came swiftly to the core of the business.

Gentlemen, he said.  We have a problem, a hell of a problem.  I am going

to show you the X-ray plates first to illustrate what I have to tell you

– Ruby swivelled his chair to the scanner and switched on the book-light

to bring the prints into high relief.  On this side are the plates that

Edelman sent me from Jerusalem.  You can see the grenade fragment.  It

was stark and hard edged, a small triangular shard of steel lying in the

cloudy bone structure.  And here you can see the track through, the

optic chiasma, the disruption and shattering of the bone is quite

evident.  Edelman's original diagnosis, based on these plates, and on

the complete inability to define light or shape, seems to be confirmed.

The optic nerve is severed, and that's the end of it.  Quickly he

unclipped the plates, and fitted others to the scanner.  All right.

Now here are the second set of plates, taken yesterday.

Immediately notice how the grenade fragment has been consolidated and

encysted.  The stark outline was softened by the new growth of bone

around it.  That is good, and expected.  But here in the channel of the

chiasma we find the growth of some sort that leaves itself open to a

number of interpretations.  It could be scarring, the growth of bone

chips, or some other type of growth either benign or malignant.  Ruby

arranged another set of plates upon the scanner.  Finally, this is the

plate exposed by the technique of tomography, to establish the contours

of this excrescence.  It seems to conform to the shape of the bony

channel of the chiasma, except here, Ruby touched a small half-round

notch which was cut into the upper edge of the growth, – this little

spot runs through the main axis of the skull, but is bent upwards in the

shape of an inverted U.  It is just possible that this may be the most

significant discovery of our whole examination.  Ruby switched off the

light of the scanner.

I don't understand any of this, the Brig's voice was sharp.  He did not

like being bludgeoned by another man's special knowledge.

No, of course.  Ruby was smooth.  I am merely setting the background for

the explanations that will follow.  He turned back to the desk, and his

manner changed.  He was no longer lecturing, but leading with authority.

Now as to my own conclusions.  There can be absolutely no doubt that

certain function of the optic nerve remains.  It is still conveying

impulses to the brain.  At least a part of it is still intact.  The

question arises as to just how much that is, and to what extent that

function can be improved.  it is possible that the grenade fragment cut

through part of the nerve, severing five strands of a six-strand rope,

or four or three.  We do not know the extent, but what we do know is

that damage of that nature is irreversible.  What Debra may be left with

is what she has now, almost nothing.  Ruby paused and was silent.  The

two men opposite him watched his face intently, leaning forward in their

seats.

That is the dark side, if it is true, then Debra is for all practical

purposes blind and will remain that way.

However, there is another side to the question.  It is possible that the

optic nerve has suffered little damage, or none at all, please God Then

why is she blind?  David asked angrily.  He felt baited, driven by

words, goaded like the bull from so long ago.  You can't have it both

ways.  Ruby looked at him, and for the first time saw beyond that blank

mask of scarred flesh and realized the pain he was inflicting, saw the

hurt in the dark eyes, blue as rifle steel.

Forgive me, David.  I have been carried away by the intriguing facts of

this case, seeing it from my own academic point of view rather than

yours, I'm afraid.  I will come to it now without further hedging.  He

leaned back in his chair and went on speaking.  You recall the notch in

the outline of the chiasma.  Well, I believe that is the nerve itself,

twisted out of position, kinked and pinched like a garden hose by bone

fragments and the pressure of the metal fragment so that it is no longer

capable of carrying impulses to the brain.  'The blows on her temple -?

'David asked.

Yes.  Those blows may have been just sufficient to alter the position of

the bone fragments, or of the nerve itself, so as to enable the passage

of a minimal amount of impulse to the brain, like the garden hose,

movement could allow a little water to pass through but still hold back

any significant flow, but once the twist is straightened the full volume

of flow would be regained.  They were all silent then, each of them

considering the enormity of what they had heard.

The eyes, the Brig said at last.  They are healthy?  Perfectly, Ruby

nodded.

How could you find out, I mean, what steps would you take next?  David

asked quietly.

There is only one way.  We would have to go to the site of the trauma.

Operate?  David asked again.

Yes.

Open Debra's skull?  The horror of it showed only in his eyes.

Yes, Ruby nodded.

Her head, David's own flesh quailed in memory of the ruthless knife.  He

saw the lovely face mutilated and the pain in those blind eyes.  Her

face – His voice shook now.  No, I won't let you cut her.  I won't let

you ruin her, like they have me David!  The Brig's voice cracked like

breaking ice, and David sank back in his chair.

I understand how you feel, Ruby spoke gently, his voice in contrast to

the Brig's.  But we will go in from behind the hairline, there will be

no disfigurement.  The scar will be covered by her hair when it grows

out, and the incision will not be very large anyway – I won't have her

suffer more.  David was trying to control his voice, but the catch and

break were still in it.  She has suffered enough, can't you see that, We

are talking about giving her back her sight the Brig broke in again. His

voice was hard and cold.  A little pain is a small price to pay for

that.

There will be very little pain, David.  Less than an appendectomy. Again

they were silent, the two older men watching the younger in the agony of

his decision.

What are the chances?  David looked for help, wanting the decision made

for him, wanting it taken out of his hands.

That is impossible to say.  Ruby shook his head.

Oh God, how can I judge if I don't know the odds?  David cried out.

All right.  Let me put it this way, there is a possibility, not

probability, that she may regain a useful part of her sight.  Ruby chose

his words with care.  And there is a remote possibility that she may

regain full vision or almost full vision.  That is the best that can

happen.  David agreed.  But what is the worst?  The worst that can

happen is there will be no change.

She will have undergone a deal of discomfort and pain to no avail. David

jumped out of his chair and crossed to the windows.

He stared out at the great sweep of bay where the tankers lay moored and

the far hills of the Tygerberg rose smoky blue to the brilliant sky.

You know what the choice must be, David.  The Brig was ruthless,

allowing him no quarter, driving him on to meet his fate.

All right, David surrendered at last, and turned back to face them.  But

on one condition.  One on which I insist.  Debra must not be told that

there is a chance of her regaining her sight, Ruby Friedman shook his

head.  She must be told The Brig's mustache bristled fiercely.  Why not?

Why don't you want her to know?

You know why.  David answered without looking at him.

How will you get her there, if you don't explain it to her?  Ruby asked.

She has been having headaches, we'll tell her there is a growth, that

you've discovered a growth, that it has to be removed.  That's true,

isn't it?  No.  Ruby shook his head.

I couldn't tell her that.  I can't deceive her.  Then I will tell her,

said David, his voice firm and steady now.  And I will tell her when we

discover the result after the operation.  Good or bad.  I will be the

one who tells her, is that understood?  Do we agree on that?  And after

a moment the two others nodded and murmured their agreement to the terms

David had set.

David had the hotel chef prepare a picnic basket, and the service bar

provided a cool bag with two bottles of champagne.

David craved for the feeling of height and space, but he needed also to

be able to concentrate all his attention on Debra, so he reluctantly

rejected the impulse to fly with her, and instead they took the cableway

up the precipitous cliffs of Table Mountain, and from the top station

they found a path along the plateau and followed it, hand in hand, to a

lonely place upon the cliff's edge where they could sit together high

above the city and the measureless spread of ocean.

The sounds of the city came up two thousand feet to them, tiny and

disjointed, on freak gusts of the wind or bouncing from the soaring

canyons of grey rock, the horn of an automobile, the clang of a

locomotive shunting in the train yards, the cry of a muezzin calling the

faithful of Islam to pray, and the distant shrilling of children

released from the classroom, yet all these faint echoes of humanity

seemed to enhance their aloneness and the breeze out of the south east

was sweet and clean after the filthy city air.

They drank the wine together, sitting close while David gathered his

resolve.  He was about to speak when Debra forestalled him.

It's good to be alive and in love, my darling, she said.  We are very

lucky, you and I.  Do you know that, David?  He made a sound in his

throat that could have been

agreement, and his courage failed him.

If you could, would you change anything?  he asked at last, and she

laughed.

Oh, sure.  One is never absolutely content until and unless one is dead.

I'd change many small things, but not the one big thing.  You and""What

would you change?  I would like to write better than I do, for one

thing.  They were silent again, sipping the wine.

Sun is going down fast now, he told her.

Tell me, she demanded, and he tried to find words for the colours, that

flickered over the cloud banks and the way the ocean shimmered and

dazzled with the last rays of gold and blood, and he knew he could never

tell it to her.  He stopped in the middle of a sentence.

I saw Ruby Friedman today, he said abruptly, unable to find a gentler

approach, and she went still beside him in that special way of hers,

frozen like a timid wild thing at the scent of some fearful predator.

It's bad!  she said at last. Why do you say that!  he demanded quickly.

Because you brought me here to tell me, and because you are afraid.  No,

David denied it.

Yes.  I can feel it now, very clearly.  You are afraid for me.  It's not

true, David tried to reassure her.  I'm a little worried that's all.

Tell me, she said.

There is a small growth.  It's not dangerous, yet.

But they feel something should be done about it, I He stumbled through

the explanation he had so carefully prepared, and when he ended she was

silent for a moment.

It is necessary, absolutely necessary?  she asked.

Yes, he told her, and she nodded, trusting him completely, then she

smiled and squeezed his arm.

Don't fret yourself, David, my darling.  It will be all right.  You'll

see, they can't touch us.  We live in a private place where they can't

touch us.  Now it was she who was striving to comfort him.

Of course it will be all right.  He hugged her to him roughly, slopping

a little wine over the rim of his glass.  When?  she asked.

Tomorrow you will go in, and they'll do it the following morning.  So

soon?  'I thought it best to have it over with.  'Yes.  You are right.

She sipped her wine, withdrawn, fearful, despite her brave show.  They

are going to cut my head open?  'Yes, he said, and she shuddered against

him.  There is no risk, he said.

No.  I'm sure there isn't, she agreed quickly.

He woke in the night with the instant knowledge that he was alone, that

she was not curled warm and sleeping beside him.

Quickly he slipped from the bed and crossed to the bathroom.  It was

empty and he padded to the sitting room of the suite and switched on the

lights.

She heard the click of the switch and turned her head away, but not

before he had seen the tears glowing on her cheeks like soft grey

pearls.  He went to her quickly.

Darling, he said.

I couldn't sleep, she said.

That's all right.  He knelt before the couch on which she sat, but he

did not touch her.

I had a dream, she said.  There was a pool of clear water and you were

swimming in it, looking up at me and calling to me.  I saw your dear

face clearly, beautiful and laughing– David realized with a jolt in his

guts that she had seen him in her dream as he had been, she had seen the

beautiful dream-David, not the monstrous ravaged thing he was now.  Then

suddenly you began to sink, down, down, through the water, your face

fading and receding, Her voice caught and broke, and she was silent for

a moment.  It was a terrible dream, I cried out and tried to follow you,

but I could not move and then you were gone down into the depths.  The

water turned dark and I woke with only the blackness in my head. Nothing

but swirling mists of blackness.  'it was only a dream, he said.

David, she whispered.  Tomorrow, if anything happens tomorrow Nothing

will happen, he almost snarled the denial, but she put out a hand to his

face, finding his lips and touching them lightly to silence them.

Whatever happens, she said, remember how it was when we were happy.

Remember that I loved you.

The hospital of Gioote Schuur sits on the lower slopes of Devil's Peak,

a tall conical peak divided from the massif of Table Mountain by a deep

saddle.  Its summit is of grey rock and below it lie the dark pine

forests and open grassy slopes of the great estate that Cecil John

Rhodes left to the nation.  Herds of deer and indigenous antelope feed

quietly in the open places and the southeast wind feathers the crest

with a flying pennant of cloud.

The hospital is a massive complex of brilliant white buildings,

substantial and solid-looking blocks, all roofed in burnt red tiles.

Ruby Friedman had used all his pull to secure a private ward for Debra,

and the sister in charge of the floor was expecting her.  They took her

from David and led her away, leaving him feeling bereft and lonely, but

when he returned to visit her that evening she was sitting up in the bed

in the soft cashmere bedjacket that David had given her and surrounded

by banks of flowers which he had ordered.

They smell wonderful, she thanked him.  It's like being in a garden. She

wore a turban around her head and, with the serene golden eyes seeming

focused on a distant vision, it gave her an exotic and mysterious air.

They have shaved your head.  David felt a slide of dismay, he had not

expected that she must also sacrifice that lustrous mane of black silk.

It was the ultimate indignity, and she seemed to feel it also, for she

did not answer him and instead told him brightly how well they were

treating her, and what pains they were taking for her comfort.  You'd

think I was some sort of queen, she laughed.

The Brig was with David, gruff and reserved and patently out of place in

these surroundings.  His presence cast restraint upon them and it was a

relief when Ruby Friedman arrived.  Bustling and charmin& he

complimented Debra on the preparations she had undergone.

Sister says that you are just fine, all nicely shaved and ready.  Sorry,

but you aren't allowed anything to eat or drink except the sleeping pill

I've prescribed.  'When do I go to theatre?  We've got you down bright

and early.  Eight o'clock tomorrow.  I am tremendously pleased that

Billy Cooper is the surgeon, we were very lucky to get him, but he owes

me a favour or two.  I will be assisting him, of course, and he'll have

one of the best surgical teams in the world backing him up.  Ruby, you

know how some women have their husbands with them when they are

confined– lyes.  'Ruby looked uncertain, taken aback by the question.

, well, couldn't David be there with me tomorrow?

Couldn't we be together, for both our sakes, while it happens?  With all

due respects, my dear, but you are not having a baby.  Couldn't you

arrange for him to be there?  Debra pleaded, with eloquent eyes and an

expression to break the hardest heart.  I'm sorry, Ruby shook his head.

It's completely impossible, then he brightened.  But I tell you what.

I could get him into the students room.  It will be the next best thing

in fact he would have a better view of the proceedings than if he were

in theatre.  We have closed-circuit television relayed to the students

room and David could watch from there.  Oh, please!  Debra accepted

immediately.  I'd like to know be was close, and that we were in

contact.  We don't like being parted from each other, do we, my darling?

She smiled at where she thought he was, but he had moved aside and the

smile missed him.  It was a gesture that wrenched something within him.

You will be there, David, won't you?  she asked, and though the idea of

watching the knife at work was repellent to him, he forced himself to

reply lightly.

I'll be there, and he almost added, always, but he cut off the word.

This early in the morning there were only two others in the small

lecture-room with its double semi-circular rows of padded chairs about

the small television screen, a plump woman student with a pretty face

and shaggydog hairstyle and a tall young man with a pale complexion and

bad teeth.  They both wore their stethoscopes dangling with calculated

nonchalance from the pockets of their white linen jackets.  After the

first startled glance they ignored David, and they spoke together in

knowing medical jargon.  The Coops doing an exploratory through the

parietal.  'That's the one I want to watch – The girl affected blue

Gauloises cigarettes, rank and stinking in the confined room.  David's

eyes felt raw and gravelly for he slept little during the night, and the

smoke irritated them.  He kept looking at his watch, and imagining what

was happening to Debra during these last minutes, the undignified

purging and cleansing of her body, the robin& and the needles of

sedation and antisepsis.

The slow drag of minutes ended at last when the screen began to glow and

hum, the image shimmered and strobed then settled down into a high view

of the theatre.  The set was in colour, and the green theatre gowns of

the figures moving around the operating-table blended with the subdued

theatre green walls.  Height had foreshortened the robed members of the

operating team and the muttered and disjointed conversation between the

surgeon and his anaesthetist was picked up by the microphones.

Are we ready there yet, Mike?  David felt the sick sensation in the pit

of his stomach, and he wished he had eaten breakfast.  It might have

filled the hollow place below his ribs.

Right, the surgeon's voice sharpened as he turned towards the

microphone.  Are we on telly?  l Yes, doctor, the theatre sister

answered him, and there was a note of resignation in the surgeon's

voice, as he spoke for his unseen audience.

Very well, then.  The patient is a twenty-six-year-old female.  The

symptoms are total loss of sight in both eyes, and the cause is

suspected damage or constriction of the optic nerve in or near the optic

chiasma.  This is a surgical investigation of the site.  The surgeon is

Dr. William Cooper, assisted by Dr. Reuben Friedman.  As he spoke, the

camera moved in on the table and with a start of surprise David realized

that he had been looking at Debra without knowing it.  Her face and the

lower part of her head were obscurred by the sterile drapes that covered

all but the shaven round ball of her skull.  It was inhuman-looking,

egglike, painted with Savlon antiseptic that glistened in the bright,

overhead lights.

Scalpel please, sister.  David leaned forward tensely in his seat, and

his hands tightened on the armrests, so the knuckles turned white, as

Cooper made the first incision drawing the blade across the smooth skin.

The flesh opened and immediately the tiny blood vessels began to dribble

and spurt.  Hands moved in the screen of the television, clad in rubber

so that they were yellow and impersonal, but quick and sure.

An oval flap of skin and flesh was dissected free and was drawn back,

exposing the gleaming bone beneath, and again David's flesh crawled as

though with living things, as the surgeon took up a drill that resembled

exactly a carpenter's brace and bit.  His voice continued its impersonal

commentary, as he began to drill through the skull, cranking away at the

handle as the gleaming steel bit swiftly through the bone.  He pierced

the skull with four round drill holes, each set at the corners of a

square.  Peri-osteal elevator, please, sister.  Again David's stomach

clenched as the surgeon slid the gleaming steel introducer into one of

the drill holes and manoeuvred it gently until its tip reappeared

through the next hole in line.  Using the introducer, a length of sharp

steel wire saw was threaded through the two holes and lay along the

inside of the skull.  Cooper sawed this back and forth and it cut

cleanly through the bone.  Four times he repeated the procedure, cutting

out the sides of the square, and when he at last lifted out the detached

piece of bone he had opened a trapdoor into Debra's skull.

As he worked David's gorge had risen until it pressed in his throat, and

he had felt the cold glistening sheen of nauseous sweat across his

forehead, but now as the camera's eye peered through the opening he felt

his wonder surmount his horror, for he could see the pale amorphous mass

of matter, enclosed in its tough covering membrane of the dura mater

that was Debra's brain.

Deftly Cooper incised a flap in the dura.

We have exposed now the frontal lobe, and it will be necessary to

displace this to explore the base of the skull.  Working swiftly, but

with obvious care and skill, Cooper used a stainless steel retractor,

shaped like a shoe horn, to slide under the mass of brain and to lift it

aside.  Debra's brain, staring at it, David seemed to be looking into

the core of her being, it was vulnerable and exposed, everything that

made her what she was.  What part of that soft pale mass contained her

writer's genius, he wondered, from which of its many soft folds and

coils sprang the fruitful fountain of her imagination, where was her

love for him buried, what soft and secret place triggered her laughter

and where was the vale of her tears?  Its fathomless mystery held him

intent as he watched the retractor probe deeper and deeper through the

opening, and slowly the camera moved in to peer into the gaping depths

of Debra's skull.

Cooper opened the far end of the dura mater and commented on his

progress.

We have here the anterior ridge of the sphenoid sinus, note this as our

point of access to the chiasma David was aware of the changed tone of

the surgeon's voice, the charging of tension as the disembodied hands

moved slowly and expertly towards their goal.

Now this is interesting, can we see this on the screen, please?  Yes!

There is very clearly a bone deformation here, The voice was pleased,

and the two students beside David exclaimed and leaned closer.  David

could see soft wet tissue and hard bright surfaces deep in the bottom of

the wound, and the necks of steel instruments crowding into it, like

metallic bees into the stamen of a pink and yellow bloom.  Cooper

scratched through to the metal of the grenade fragment.

Now here we have the foreign body, can we have a look at those X-ray

plates again, sister The image cut quickly to the X-ray scanner, and

again the students exclaimed.  The girl puffed busily on her stinking

Gauloise.

Thank you.

The image cut back to the operating field, and now David saw the dark

speck of the grenade fragment lodged in the white bone.

We will go for this, I think.  Do you agree, Dr. Friedman?  'Yes, I

think you should take it.

Delicately the long slender steel insects worried the dark fragment, and

at last with a grunt of satisfaction it came free of its niche, and

Cooper drew it out carefully.

David heard the metallic ping as it was dropped into a waiting dish.

Good!  Good!  Cooper gave himself a little encouragement as he plugged

the hole left by the fragment with beeswax to prevent haemorrhage.  Now

we will trace out the optic nerves.

They were two white worms, David saw them clearly, converging on their

separate trails to meet and blend at the opening of the bony canal into

which they disappeared.

We have got extraneous bone-growth here, clearly associated with the

foreign body we have just removed.

It seems to have blocked off the canal and to have squeezed or severed

the nerve.  Suggestions, Dr. Friedman?  I think we should excise that

growth and try and ascertain just what damage we have to the nerve in

that area.  Good.  Yes, I agree.  Sister, I will use a fine bonenibbler

to get in there.

The swift selection and handling of the bright steel instruments again,

and then Cooper was working on the white bone growth which grew in the

shape of coral from a tropical sea.  He nibbled at it with the keen

steel, and carefully removed each piece from the field as it came away.

What we have here is a bone splinter that was driven by the steel

fragment into the canal.  It is a large piece, and it must have been

under considerable pressure, and it has consolidated itself here He

worked on carefully, and gradually the white worm of the nerve appeared

from beneath the growth.

Now, this is interesting.  Cooper's tone altered.  Yes, look at this.

Can we get a better view here, please?  The camera zoomed in a little

closer, and the focus realigned.  The nerve has been forced upwards, and

flattened by pressure.  The constriction is quite obvious, it has been

pinched off, but it seems to be intact.  Cooper lifted another large

piece of bone aside, and now the nerve lay exposed over its full length.

This is really remarkable.  I expect that it is a one in a thousand

chance, or one in a million.  There appears to be no damage to the

actual nerve, and yet the steel fragment passed so close to it that it

must have touched it Delicately, Cooper lifted the nerve with the blunt

tip of a probe.

Completely intact, but flattened by pressure.  Yet I don't suspect any