Chapter #14Appointment with Dr. Strange, Part 1 by: Nostrum   "Si, como no," replied Samaris, returning to her desk. "Por favor, espere mientras le informo."
Mireya hoped that the visit would be merely business: an hour at best, where she could slip in and out. She recalled the moment when she asked her mother if they’d live in this large mansion, only to be rebuked harshly. Though Maribella was a very endearing woman, few knew of her rougher side – the one that could bring a grown man to its knees, figuratively and literally. It took her only a change in tone, from the sweet melody of her fading Cuban accent slowly merging into the Dominican intonation that she often used, to the dour, stern voice that reflected her anger. Maribella had a way to reprimand people in such a way that they felt guilty, yet held no ill will towards her.
Mireya was never sure if it was the influence of Lurga – the planet Saturn, one of her mother’s ousiarchs - or just her natural attitude, but she never dared to raise her voice against her, or offend her. Those that knew Maribella often praised their proper behavior – such as Miss Velázquez, who hounded her with questions about her father and sister, and her job back in the United States – but knew little of how outright terrifying Dr. Aristizábal could be when angered. The mix of memories – longing for her mother, the latent fear of being unable to live up to her expectations – made her uneasy, and as soon as Samaris informed her that the doctor would speak to her, she quickly apologized to the old nurse and rushed to his second-floor office.
The corridor was rather narrow, and more so for being crowded with a few benches and potted plants. A well-worn rug was rolled out over the floor, to cover the cracked tiles. The rooms – repurposed bedrooms – were also small, with plaques detailing their purpose. Mireya went to the last one – which probably had been the former master bedroom – where a golden plaque read in Spanish, "Dr. Gustavo Jaúregui de la Mata, General Director".
The director answered at her knock, and she entered. He was a slim, mousy little man, with a slight hunch, a tinge of overbite and spiky gray hair peppered with black, ending on sharp sideburns and a perennial stubble. A pair of pince-nez rested upon his crooked nose, showcasing his muted olive eyes, and he wore his perpetual physician’s coat over a checkered shirt and gray tweed jacket and pants. Mireya always shivered a bit when she met him, for he carried with him a slight air of the mad scientist. Perhaps it was the feel of his office, which was eccentrically decorated with an indented porcelain head, instruments for trepanation, and a flask with live leeches. But it might have also been the man's own presence, which was imposing despite his small stature. At any rate, she desired to get her visit over with quick.
"Mireya!" he exclaimed in a very thick Mexican accent, straight from the federal district of Mexico. "Que grata sorpresa."
"Hello, Dr. Gus." Mireya relaxed, and a surge of warmth coursed through her. Despite his appearance and a certain stoicism of manner, Dr. Gustavo was a very courteous man, and a consummate professional. Though lacking the bedside manner of her mother, Dr. Gustavo was one of the most respected diagnosticians and medical researchers in the Caribbean and Central America. He was known for flashes of inspiration, and for having an uncanny ability to diagnose illnesses with remarkable speed. When he worked under Dr. Aristizábal, he worked as chief of the triage station; after her death, he moved completely into research, only taking the most extraordinary cases.
There was a reason why Dr. Gustavo "inherited" the position from Dr. Aristizábal, however. Like Maribella, he too was a Stellae, and the only other one well-suited for the daunting task of managing the Institute and its peculiar mission. He and Maribella couldn’t have been any more different, however; while Maribella was an adored and gifted healer, a "miracle-worker" of sorts, Dr. Gustavo was a brilliant intellectual who felt burdened by the mundane tasks of healing. Judging by his office, he would feel right at home at a laboratory – and for the most part, he spent many hours in the research wing with his personal studies – but the manner in which the office was organized proved he was the right choice to direct such a complex operation.
"Came to pay a visit?" said Dr. Gustavo, in flawless English heavily accented. "Or strictly business?"
"The latter", responded Mireya, with a barely contained sigh.
"Understood. Please." Dr. Gustavo showed her to one of the lavish seats opposite his, its sturdy wood and soft red velvet upholstery fitting for a royal guest. He favored her with a faint, rare smile. "Well," he rumbled, "I take you must be here for updates about the antitoxin?"
Mireya nodded slowly, nervously. "Y-yes. Have... Have you--?"
"Unfortunately, I’ve had no success. The toxin is very difficult to analyze."
"And the sample I gave you?"
Dr. Gustavo crossed his hands and covered his mouth, a gesture Mireya quickly recognized as a gesture of defeat. "Spoiled. The sample was well-preserved, and after our last two attempts, I improved the analysis procedure, but unfortunately, the toxin decomposes almost immediately in the presence of light. And the patients that I attend with symptoms related to the toxin rarely live for long."
Mireya sighed.
Basilisks were extremely dangerous creatures, after all. A large creature, with snake and lizard traits easily confounded with its no less threatening cousin the Komodo dragon, the basilisk had tough scales that could withstand the most potent longarms, and an incredible resilience to heat and cold. Its long tail could hurl a grown man to the floor with a single crack, its feet gave it impressive speed, and its quick reflexes made them lethal in melee combat. Yet, it was its frightening visage, with eyes that could paralyze all but the bravest, and its lethal venomous bite that made it a challenging creature to hunt. Finding even a sample of its venom was difficult, requiring weeks and months of investigation and delving into unsavory places. And after five such occasions in which she had attained a pure sample, a genius researcher such as Dr. Gustavo still couldn’t synthesize an antidote. Catching a Basilisk would be a daunting effort, one that she wasn’t eager to, but felt compelled nonetheless. For only a live specimen, Dr. Gustavo had pessimistically concluded, could provide adequate samples.
"Still," the doctor continued, "the sample lasted long enough to allow me to discard some possibilities. Also," he added, "I finally narrowed the reason why it’s so difficult to treat."  You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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