Substitution - Chapter 2
#2 of Substitution (TF Themes)
Substitution - Chapter 2
Second chapter on the commission for Nex_Canis and the plot thickens! I was very glad to see all the comments on the first part, do keep it up! Also remember that all votes, faves and watches will help others to find these stories to enjoy as well!
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Brantley's head hurt. He'd been reading through the files provided by the insurance beaver, Mr. Biff, but he was having trouble making much sense of it. The text was written in an atrocious combination of technobabble, legalese and insurance terminology, impenetrable for laymen, he had come to decide after half an hour of trying to make heads and tails out of it. The words just seemed to mean very little at this moment, with his father slowly perishing in his comatose state.
"I just don't get it," he muttered. "Why didn't he talk to me about this?"
The beaver seemed to be onto it.
"According to the file, this amendment to his life policy was made in January last year," Mr. Biff noted after a glance onto his own tablet pad. "The initial deposit was made and he has been paying it diligently. I also have here on file the report from the medical unit of the Nogura Institute, dated in May last year, about your father's visit for the examination for the qualification for the procedure. It is all here on file."
Brantley harrumphed. His pads left smudgy prints onto the shimmery screen of the pad in his paws.
"And you are claiming that - that this - "
"It is an alternative policy that is offered for our premium clients, and I believe that the success rate and the approval rates are very high. Obviously we are covering the costs as per his premium policy and...and that is how it works, Mister Kyle."
"I just can't put my head around this," Brantley waved the pad in his paw, "you are saying..this is saying...that this...recombinant...quantum...nano...bio...mimic...whatever you call it..."
"I can understand that the technical details are quite mind boggling, mister Kyle, but I am happy to try to explain to you everything that may be of interest to you. I simply have to remind you that the decision must be made very soon, if we are to proceed. As I understand, Mister Kyle's condition is prone to deteriorate and to postpone the preparations for the recombination procedure would be risking a reduced possibility of a positive outcome."
Meaningful, Brantley's mind thought, hysterically.
Brantley grunted.
"And you expect me to make this decision, right now?" he demanded.
"Your father has expressed his wish for this in his life policy, Mister Kyle, and since you have been named as the executor, and with the power to make his medical decisions, the final decisions rests upon you," Mister Biff replied. "I do not see any alternative to it. It will be your decision whether to proceed or not."
"Do you understand what you are asking me to do?" Brantley grimaced.
"Yes, I do," the beaver spoke calmly. "I face these situations every day, Mister Kyle."
The beaver sounded almost flippant about it, the fact that he would often counsel people about making such life and death decisions. How much did they pay him?
"You are telling me that there is a chance that this...this thing could...bring my father back...I mean...cure him...I mean....aghh..." the wolf let out an agitated sigh and stood up. He had to move, to get some of the nervous energy out.
"It is the best opportunity for it, yes, based on current practice," the beaver said. "And considering his prognosis - "
"You're not a doctor!" Brantley spat out.
"I have consulted with the specialists at the hospital, at the company, and at the Institute," Mister biff replied. "They assure me that it is the best opportunity to provide our client...your father, Mister Kyle, with an improved quality of life."
Meaningful, Brantley thought.
"You are saying that my father - that him...the he...it...that he..." Brantley felt he was about to begin stammering, something he hadn't done since he was five years old.
"What do you wish to ask, Mister Kyle?"
"I want to know if it will be him!" Brantley barked and growled.
"The success rate is over 70%, Mister Kyle. You may review the literature yourself, it is on the file.
Brantley glanced at the now-abandoned pad with distrust.
"So that's a seven out of ten chance that my father will...will be well again?"
"It is the best that we can offer, and we offer it proudly," the beaver said, "this is our flagship policy, after all, for the discerning customer, and your father has been a very valuable customer for the past twenty years."
Brantley wanted to sneer and tell the beaver to stuff dollars up his stupid rudder ass, but kept it back. Of course he only thought in terms of money. Money invested, money made. Probably they had earned so much interest on that money his father had paid that even this payout was not going to hurt them. His father's accident was a statistical anomaly. Young men like him didn't suddenly die and leave the insurance company to cover the costs. They probably just wanted Brantley to keep paying his own insurance premiums. Maybe they could recoup the costs through the son, if the father had been such a disappointment by dying too early.
"I still don't know what this exactly will mean for him," Brantley said, "this is...this is dangerous...experimental, you say"
"All the statistics are presented in the introductory package that is on your pad, Mister Kyle," the beaver noted.
"My father is not a fucking number!" Brantley couldn't keep it down anymore. "Don't talk about him like that!"
The beaver's ears flicked back and forth in natural surprise at the raised voice. He still did seem calm enough.
"I apologise, Mister Kyle, if I have upset you," Mister Biff said. "This is a very delicate issue, I understand, and I am here to assist you in any way I can, in my capacity as a representative of the interests of your father and his life policy."
"And to keep me sweet in case that thing you suggest wouldn't work and I would go to the press, huh?" Brantley growled.
"There is no need for that, Mister Kyle," the beaver managed to remain impassive even through what was obviously a threat coming from the angry wolf in front of him. "His policy will be paid out in full nonetheless, of course. The procedure is covered under his medical policy."
"I don't care about the fucking money!" Brantley's voice began to break. His eyes burnt and he let out a pained growl that was accompanied by the flattening of his ears. He couldn't look at the beaver anymore, he just had to stare at the wall.
"I just want him back..." Brantley grumbled. "I want..."
He swallowed. His throat hurt.
"I just..."
The rattle of the door opening startled them both. The wolf nurse whom entered in her scrubs looked concerned.
"Mister Kyle?" the nurse spoke.
Brantley's eyes were practically bulging.
"What is it?"
"Could you come with me, please, it is about your father."
Even the beaver seemed concerned. Brantley couldn't give a fuck about him.
*
Brantley found the cougar doctor standing in the corridor outside the door leading into his father's room. She was clad in a white surgical robe and still wore gloves and a head cover, having just been inside the room. Brantley barely saw her,when he rushed to the window, nosepad pressing to the glass.
"Mister Kyle - "
Several members of the medical staff were working around the bed that had received even more equipment since the last time Brantley was there. The monitors flashed, and even through the window he could hear the multiple alarm beeps that were going off. At the center of this laid his father, in his cocoon of bandages and under the cooling tent with its myriad of cables and tubes coiling in and out.
"Mister Kyle - "
'"WHAT?" Brantley snarled at the woman.
"Mister Kyle, I'm afraid that I do not have good news about your father's condition," the wolf said. "It has grown more severe."
"How can it get worse anymore?" Brantley dismissed the comment angrily.
"Your father has developed a systemic inflammatory response, most likely due to infection as well as secondary injury due to the accident," Doctor Lansing explained. "We are implementing all supportive measures and are attempting to identify the cause of the infection, but I must warn you, his condition is deteriorating rapidly even with maximum medical support. His kidneys have already failed and we have started hemodialysis - "
The words barely made any sense to Brantley. He couldn't really hear anything except the rush of blood in his ears.
"What else can you do?" he muttered.
"I am afraid, Mister Kyle, that at this point, it is probable that we are looking at palliative measures."
Brantley snorted.
"That's just your word for letting him die, isn't it?"
"We are doing everything that is within our capabilities - "
"So do more!" Brantley growled. "Do - "
Doctor Lansing nodded.
"I think it is time to discuss your father's wishes in this situation, and whether you, as his next of kin, wish for us to undertake so-called heroic measures."
"I...I don't know what that means," Brantley mumbled.
"I think it would be better if we discussed this somewhere private - "
"I don't give a crap about who is going to hear this," the wolf's tail swung dangerously. "Besides, you said it yourself, time is running out. What's the point in wasting it?"
"Mister Kyle, your father's condition is terminal, it is only a matter of time now," Doctor Lansing said.
"Nghhhhhh..." Brantley growled.
"Mister Kyle - "
"What about that beaver?" he yelled. "What about the stuff he's saying? About that...that institute and - and all that?"
The cougar frowned.
"Your father is extremely sick, moving him at this point - "
"Well you're the one who's saying he's going to die anyway, what's the harm?" Brantley spat.
"Mister Kyle, I don't think - "
"Get that Biff guy here!" Brantley shouted. "Now, did you hear me?"
*
The ride to the other side of town was nerve wracking for Brantley. He had to sit in a black car with Mister Biff, and the beaver kept speaking onto his cell phone incessantly throughout the trip. The institute car followed a private ambulance in front of them, which carried Mister Kyle Senior. Brantley hated feeling trapped in the car, so close to his father who was literally hanging onto his life with whatever little strength remained in his damaged body.
There were no guarantees, and Brantley barely understood what was going on, but for the first time since the accident, he actually felt hopeful. They were doing something, and they were getting his father away from that awful Charitable hospital where they only talked about death and do not resuscitate orders. Fuck that cougar bitch. She just seemed more keen to get the bed empty for another patient. This weird Institute was practically begging to get a new customer, on the other paw. Whether he should be unhappy about them being too eager to get new patients, he wasn't sure, but at least they were doing something.
"...yes, I expect everything to be ready as soon as we are there, yes, five more minutes..."
Brantley stared at the red braking lights of the ambulance in front of them. His paws were flexed into fists.
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Thank you for reading! I hope you had an interesting time, and I look forward to your comments!
Cheerio!
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