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Sep. 22nd, 2005 03:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gabriel_tamIt's easier to think, he finds, when things are ordered. When the world is structured precisely so, it's much simpler to manage-- easier to control. It's always been this way for him, and that affinity for detail and organization is part and parcel of why he excels at business matters. He suspects he's going to need every ounce of control he can find, very shortly.
By the time Shepherd Matthews-- who's apparently been assigned to keep track of him, Gabriel thinks-- knocks at the door with the call to Vespers and the meal to follow, he is ready. The room is straightened and almost painfully tidy, and the slim, unprepossessing datapad is lying squarely in the center of the single small desk, with a chair set at an angle before it.
He hasn't looked at it yet-- he hadn't wanted to be disturbed. With a shake of the head and a briefly muttered explanation, Gabriel closes the door and goes to sit at the table, taking up the datapad. As the first words of the evening service are sung,
(Deus in adiutorium meum intende; Domine ad adiuvandum me festina)
(O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to help me)
echoing through the otherwise-silent abbey, he begins to read.
His daughter is the genius child, and his son is the doctor. Not him. Still, children inherit a number of things from their parents, and Gabriel has never been less than intelligent. As a corporate negotiator, he has the ability to read and comprehend the complexities inherent in any contract or legal document, for deals involving a wide variety of businesses.
This simply means that the language of the medical reports is all too clear to his understanding.
Bile rises suddenly in his throat, filling his mouth with a bitter, acid-copper taste—not unlike the taste of his own blood in a far-distant, crazily tilting room, filled with yellow-orange light and nightmarish figures.
As his fingers begin to tremble, the datapad shakes in his hands, making it very hard to focus on the small screen. Resolutely, Gabriel uses the table to brace himself and activates the next report. It only takes him three tries to press the correct button.
Surgical alternatives. Permanent effect. River's voice echoes in his mind, soft and flat, reciting facts she shouldn't have been able to know: "Told you I wasn't finished. Want to be careful, Mr. Tam."
He swallows hard and wipes a hand over his mouth, fighting to steady himself now, not just the datapad.
He has to look away from the small, bright screen, but it doesn't help. He can almost hear Simon, screaming at him. "Look at what those heishŏudăng liúmáng at your precious new program did to her!"
He can also hear his own answer, harsh and accusing: "You stopped her treatment when you took her away!"
The datapad falls from his suddenly nerveless fingers to the table as he shoves his chair back and jerks to his feet, violently enough that the chair crashes over on its side. Sickened and swaying, he takes a step toward the door -- only to find out that his legs won't hold him. He sinks to his knees on the hard stone floor, doubled over and fighting for each harsh, rasping breath.
It doesn't matter that he can't move. There's nowhere in any the world that he can go to escape this. Still kneeling, Gabriel buries his head in his hands and stays that way for a long time.
Dimly, in the distance, the service continues.
(indulgentiam, absolutionem, et remissionem peccatorum nostorum tribuat nobis omnipotens et misericors, Dominus)
(may the almighty and merciful Lord grant us pardon, absolution and remission of our sins)
(Are you a man of faith, Gabriel Tam?)
Eventually he gets to his feet and rights the chair, then takes his seat once more. He'll face this. He can do that much. His daughter lived it.
Slowly, Gabriel picks up the datapad and continues reading.
By the time Shepherd Matthews-- who's apparently been assigned to keep track of him, Gabriel thinks-- knocks at the door with the call to Vespers and the meal to follow, he is ready. The room is straightened and almost painfully tidy, and the slim, unprepossessing datapad is lying squarely in the center of the single small desk, with a chair set at an angle before it.
He hasn't looked at it yet-- he hadn't wanted to be disturbed. With a shake of the head and a briefly muttered explanation, Gabriel closes the door and goes to sit at the table, taking up the datapad. As the first words of the evening service are sung,
(Deus in adiutorium meum intende; Domine ad adiuvandum me festina)
(O God, come to my assistance; O Lord, make haste to help me)
echoing through the otherwise-silent abbey, he begins to read.
His daughter is the genius child, and his son is the doctor. Not him. Still, children inherit a number of things from their parents, and Gabriel has never been less than intelligent. As a corporate negotiator, he has the ability to read and comprehend the complexities inherent in any contract or legal document, for deals involving a wide variety of businesses.
This simply means that the language of the medical reports is all too clear to his understanding.
| Administration of solubilized methcathinone hydrochloride to hyperstimulate the dopaminergic neurons leading to the nucleus accumbens should provoke the desired increase in response, overcoming the moderated effect on the basolateral complex that is a characteristic side-effect of repetition in fear conditioning techniques. |
Bile rises suddenly in his throat, filling his mouth with a bitter, acid-copper taste—not unlike the taste of his own blood in a far-distant, crazily tilting room, filled with yellow-orange light and nightmarish figures.
As his fingers begin to tremble, the datapad shakes in his hands, making it very hard to focus on the small screen. Resolutely, Gabriel uses the table to brace himself and activates the next report. It only takes him three tries to press the correct button.
| Initially-positive results are unfortunately countered by the short-term nature of the medications when employed at current levels; dosage modification and/or surgical alternatives may be required for permanent effect. Current outcomes are good, but inadequate. Program acceleration is required. |
Surgical alternatives. Permanent effect. River's voice echoes in his mind, soft and flat, reciting facts she shouldn't have been able to know: "Told you I wasn't finished. Want to be careful, Mr. Tam."
He swallows hard and wipes a hand over his mouth, fighting to steady himself now, not just the datapad.
| Utilization of propiophenone derivatives on post-surgical candidates has resulted in increased incidence of psychotic affect among subjects. |
He has to look away from the small, bright screen, but it doesn't help. He can almost hear Simon, screaming at him. "Look at what those heishŏudăng liúmáng at your precious new program did to her!"
| Provision of randinol for self-administration combined with cognitive behavioral therapeutic techniques temporarily amelioriates symptoms. Additional benefit derives from increased subject dependence and positive response to authoritative figures. Results are extremely promising. Program authorization continues. |
He can also hear his own answer, harsh and accusing: "You stopped her treatment when you took her away!"
The datapad falls from his suddenly nerveless fingers to the table as he shoves his chair back and jerks to his feet, violently enough that the chair crashes over on its side. Sickened and swaying, he takes a step toward the door -- only to find out that his legs won't hold him. He sinks to his knees on the hard stone floor, doubled over and fighting for each harsh, rasping breath.
It doesn't matter that he can't move. There's nowhere in any the world that he can go to escape this. Still kneeling, Gabriel buries his head in his hands and stays that way for a long time.
Dimly, in the distance, the service continues.
(indulgentiam, absolutionem, et remissionem peccatorum nostorum tribuat nobis omnipotens et misericors, Dominus)
(may the almighty and merciful Lord grant us pardon, absolution and remission of our sins)
(Are you a man of faith, Gabriel Tam?)
Eventually he gets to his feet and rights the chair, then takes his seat once more. He'll face this. He can do that much. His daughter lived it.
Slowly, Gabriel picks up the datapad and continues reading.
