Crucible: McCoy

by David R. George III

  “Well, I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you,” she said, “although I’m sure I’m not.”

  McCoy felt his brow furrow in confusion. “Congratulate me for what, honey?” he asked.

  Joanna’s own thin eyebrows moved, but in the opposite direction. “You mean you haven’t heard yet?” she asked.

  “Since I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he told her, “I’m going to have to say no.”

  Joanna’s smile widened. “This is great,” she said, practically cheering. “I am going to be the first one to congratulate you.”

  Joanna’s obvious delight pleased him, but he still didn’t know of a reason why anybody should be applauding him. “What is it?” he asked. “Did I win the Argelian sweepstakes?”

  “No,” Joanna said, “but you did win the Zee-Magnees Prize.”

  “What?” McCoy said. The University of Alpha Centauri bestowed the prestigious accolade aperiodically, whenever its Scientific Advisory Board deemed an achievement worthy of their recognition. They did not limit themselves in considering any advancement, but made the award across a broad range of disciplines, from computer science to cybernetics, from chemistry to cosmology, from anatomy to zoology. “Where did you hear that?”

  “I read it on the hospital’s intranet just before I left for the day,” Joanna said.

  “That’s…that’s unbelievable,” McCoy said, overwhelmed to receive such an honor.

  “I believe it,” Joanna said. “Do you want to hear the announcement? I downloaded it.”

  “Sure,” McCoy said.

  Joanna looked around for a moment and then said, “Hold on a second, let me find it.” She stood up and moved about what appeared to be her living room, peering at one surface after another, obviously searching for her copy of the announcement. McCoy chuckled to himself. A medical professional, whose professional life absolutely depended upon an attention to detail, and yet his daughter still hadn’t figured out how to keep her home organized and neat.

  Finally, Joanna left the frame entirely, returning a moment later with a small slate in her hand. “Here it is,” she said, and then she read from the device’s display. “‘The Scientific Advisory Board of the University of Alpha Centauri, in accordance with our established procedures for seeking out and measuring excellence in the many disciplines of science, hereby herald recent achievements made by Leonard Horatio McCoy of Terra and Spock of Vulcan. Specifically, Doctor McCoy will receive the Zee-Magnees Prize for his work in the field of biophysics, in which his theoretical and research efforts both led to the discovery of the fundamental physical and force particles of time, and measured the effects of temporal radiation on living beings. Mister Spock will receive the Zee-Magnees Prize for his work in the field of quantum physics, in which his theoretical and experimental efforts resulted in the discovery of the fundamental physical and force particles of time.’” Joanna finished and looked back up, veritably beaming.

  “I can’t believe it,” McCoy said. He’d been working for so long on this research, really ever since his discovery of Jim’s discrepant M’Benga numbers more than twenty years ago. It had taken all that time to identify chronometric particles and chronitons. Once he and Spock had done so, though, it had taken McCoy considerably less time to verify that, while temporal radiation in large quantities would be deleterious to living tissue, the miniscule amounts left behind in humanoids as the result of time travel were benign.

  “I am so proud of you, Dad,” Joanna said. McCoy smiled as his heart swelled. Though thrilled to be named a recipient of the Zee-Magnees Prize, even the sense of accomplishment in receiving that singular tribute could not surpass his joy at having his daughter’s respect.

  “Thank you, honey,” he said. “That means more to me than the award.”

  “Oh, Dad,” she said, waving her hand dismissively, but he could see in her eyes that she believed what he’d said and that it touched her. Despite being so far apart so much of the time, despite spending time with each other only sporadically over the years, their relationship had come a long way. He sometimes worried that he’d passed on his worst traits to her—as far as he knew, she remained alone romantically—but he also thought that she had matured into a fine woman, who lived a mostly happy life. He didn’t think he could be more proud of her.

  “I’ll let you get to sleep,” Joanna said, and McCoy felt a twinge of anxiety at the prospect of another night of broken sleep and terrible dreams. “I just wanted to congratulate you.”

  “Thank you, honey,” McCoy said. “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Dad.” Joanna reached forward and touched a control, and the Federation logo replaced her image on the screen.

  McCoy toggled off the connection from his end, then stood up from his desk and went back into the refresher. There, he spied the soporific sitting on the edge of the basin. He picked up the white capsule and looked at it, then placed it back in its green vial. Elated by the news of his and Spock’s award—he looked forward to informing the science officer in the morning—and happy simply from speaking with his daughter, he opted to forgo the somnifacient medication. The nightmares might come again, but tonight, he would take his chances.

  Forty-Eight

  1954

  As Lynn parked in the street, she looked over at the office section of Leonard’s house and saw the door open. By the time she’d gotten out of the truck, Millie and Doug Warnick had emerged from inside into the summer twilight. Behind them, she saw Leonard standing in the doorway.

  Lynn crossed the street and waited beside the opening in the low white fence for the Warnicks to come down the path. Doug held Millie’s hand and upper arm as she made her way slowly along, waddling more than walking. With her third child on the way, her belly had swelled tremendously, but then she’d been due last week. “I can’t believe you haven’t had your baby yet,” Lynn said.

  “Just like Olivia and Viola,” Doug said, mentioning their two daughters. “This one doesn’t want to come out either.”

  “How are you feeling, Millie?” Lynn asked.

  “Heavy and hot and tired,” she said. “I just wish little Douglas Junior or Mary would get here already.”

  “It won’t be long,” Leonard called from the door. “Not long at all.”

  Millie rolled her eyes. “He keeps saying that, but…” She patted her belly with both hands.

  “I’m sure it’ll be very soon,” Lynn said, trying to be optimistic.

  “We surely hope so,” Doug said, raising his hand to show his crossed fingers. He escorted Millie over to their car, a sky blue Nash, and helped her into the front passenger seat. Lynn watched as he got in on the driver’s side and then drove away.

  As she turned and walked up the path toward the house, Lynn said, “I can’t believe you won’t let Millie have her baby. What kind of a doctor are you anyway?”

  “A hungry one,” Leonard said. “Speaking of a woman being late for an event…”

  “Sorry. I didn’t get out of the mill until after six,” Lynn said. Leonard stepped aside and held the door open for her as she went into the house. “But it doesn’t look like you would’ve been ready for supper anyway,” she said, “unless Millie was going to cook something.”

  “Well,” Leonard said, closing the door, “she does have a bun in the oven.”

  Lynn snickered at the jest. “Not a very tasty one, though,” she said.

  They went into the kitchen and together made supper. Over their meal, Lynn brought up the possibility of taking in a movie tomorrow, as they so often did on Saturdays. “I checked,” she said. “Between Two Seas is playing at the Bijou.” Though they mostly saw movies there, in Greenville, they occasionally traveled instead to Anderson, where another theater, the Deluxe, had opened last year.

  “Who’s in that one?” Leonard asked.

  “Olivia de Havilland and James Stewart,” Lynn said, naming two of her favorite movie stars.

  “Well, that’s quite a bill,”
Leonard said.

  “I know,” Lynn said, excited just talking about it. “So you want to go?”

  “I do,” Leonard said, “but I can’t. Not unless Millie has her baby between now and tomorrow afternoon.” He paused, then added, “Actually, even then I should probably stay around town.”

  “Of course,” Lynn said. She should’ve realized that Leonard wouldn’t be able to stray too far from Millie. “Maybe next week,” she said, and Leonard agreed.

  After supper, they decided to let the dishes wait to be washed so that they could watch the evening news report. For several years, each of the three networks had scheduled periodic news broadcasts in the morning and in the evening, specifically to provide updates on the war. Tonight, Lynn thought, what they heard could only be described as positive. After years of efforts by President Truman, Hitler had finally agreed to send envoys to Washington to negotiate for peace. Ceasefires on the frontlines in France, Spain, and Portugal had been scheduled for midnight tonight and had already begun in the time zones where Friday had become Saturday. At the same time, the Japanese fleet, which yesterday had approached worryingly close to the coastlines of Chile and Peru, had now retreated out to sea.

  Once the fifteen minutes of news had ended, Lynn returned with Leonard to the kitchen, where they cleaned the dishes—he washed, she dried. Then they went back into the living room and settled in to watch The Adventures of Ozzie & Harriet. Just a few minutes into the show, though, they heard a loud knocking on the side door. Leonard quickly got up, crossed the side room, and went into the back hall. Lynn followed, curious and concerned.

  Standing in the side room, she heard Leonard open the door, and then Pru Glaston began talking frantically. He invited her inside and tried to calm her down, then leaned into the side room and said, “Lynn, Pru Glaston is here. I’m going to take her back to the office so she can have some privacy.”

  “It’s all right, Doctor,” Pru said, appearing beside Leonard. “I wanted to tell you that Audie just knocked over his medicine. It’s his last bottle and it smashed all over the floor.” Several years ago, Lynn knew, Audie had been diagnosed with epilepsy. Leonard had prescribed medicine for him, which mostly kept Audie’s seizures at bay, but on a couple of occasions, he’d begun convulsing in public. Lynn and much of the town had witnessed one such incident in church last year. She’d found the experience terribly troubling. “You told us Audie should never stop taking his medicine,” Pru continued, her voice and manner growing agitated again, “and now we don’t have any more.”

  “Everything’s going to be all right,” Leonard said soothingly. He reached up and took Pru by the elbow and led her into the side room, where he settled her into a chair. “Audie shouldn’t stop taking his medication, but I have some for him here, so that’s not going to happen.”

  “Oh,” Pru said, and she reached up and took Leonard’s hand in both of hers. “Oh, thank you, Doctor.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “Let me just go get the phenytoin.” Leonard looked over at Lynn and inclined his head ever so slightly toward Pru. Lynn had spent so much time with Leonard for so long that she immediately understood what he wanted to tell her: stay with Pru and keep her calm. Lynn responded with a quick nod and walked farther into the room. Leonard gently pulled his hand from Pru’s grasp and headed back toward his office. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Pru peered up at Lynn. “I’m sorry to be disturbing you at this time of night,” she said.

  “It’s perfectly all right,” Lynn said. “This is much more important. We were just watching Ozzie and Harriet.” Though her relationship with Leonard had steadfastly remained a friendship—despite her best efforts to make it something more than that—Lynn knew that some people in town believed that they had become romantically involved. That had bothered her at first, and she’d protested whenever anybody would intimate something untoward, but then she’d simply learned to accept that folks would believe whatever they wanted to believe, no matter what she said, and no matter the truth.

  Leonard returned a moment later, a small brown bottle held in one hand. He held it out to Pru, who appeared immediately relieved. “This should take care of Audie for a few days,” he said. “Unfortunately, my latest shipment hasn’t arrived yet.”

  “Oh no,” Pru said, becoming excited once again.

  “It’s all right,” Leonard said, squatting down beside her chair and taking hold of her hands. “Either the hospital in Greenville will have some phenytoin to spare or the manufacturer can replace it. They’re located in Atlanta. I’m sure we can get some tomorrow.”

  Again, Pru’s tension seemed to ease. “All right,” she said.

  “Now, I can’t leave town because Millie Warnick is going to have her baby any day now,” Leonard said. “Obviously Audie shouldn’t be driving, especially all the way to Greenville or Atlanta. What about you, Pru? Can you make a trip like that?” While the trip to Greenville took about ninety minutes, Atlanta was more than a hundred and forty miles away, and it took almost four hours to drive there.

  “I’ll do whatever I need to do for Audie,” Pru said. Though a stout, fit woman, she had to be close to sixty years old and Lynn didn’t know that she’d be able to manage either trip safely.

  “I’ll go,” Lynn said, and both Pru and Leonard looked over at her. “I don’t have anything else to do tomorrow.”

  “Are you sure?” Pru said, her voice thick with gratitude.

  “Of course,” Lynn said. “I’d be happy to.”

  Pru looked up at Leonard questioningly. “That’s that,” he told her. “I’ll telephone the hospital and the manufacturer tomorrow morning, and then Lynn will go wherever she needs to for the medicine.”

  Pru stood up and paced over to Lynn. “Thank you so much,” she said, and she swallowed her up in a hug.

  “You’re welcome,” Lynn said.

  Leonard walked Pru to the side door and saw her out. Lynn went back into the living room, where Ozzie and Harriet Nelson and their show had given way to Ray Bolger and his. When Leonard rejoined her on the sofa, he reached over and placed his hand atop hers. “Thank you,” he said. “You’re really a wonderful person.”

  Lynn smiled, warmed by the opinion of this man for whom she cared so much. “It’s completely selfish,” she said. “Maybe when I’m in Greenville or Atlanta, I’ll go and see Between Two Seas.”

  “A well-deserved reward for your good deed,” Leonard said. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a hug just as Pru had done. For an instant, Lynn envisioned herself kissing Leonard as he pulled away, but then he said, “Thank you for doing this,” and the moment passed.

  That night, lying alone in bed back in her own house, Lynn thought that perhaps she should’ve tried to kiss Leonard anyway. In a way, she felt foolish. At fifty years old, how could she still think so much like a teenager, at least when it came to Leonard? After all this time, she should simply let go of any illusions she had that Leonard would ever love her as she loved him.

  Except that he still frequently acted as though he did love her. Then why can’t we have a relationship? she asked herself, and as always, the answer eluded her. At this point, she knew for sure that it had nothing to do with Phil—and she felt confident too that it had nothing to do with her. If anything, something inside Leonard prevented their friendship from becoming something more.

  The more she knew him, she realized, the more she didn’t understand him.

  McCoy strolled up the walk toward his house, the ground still wet from the brief summer squall that had passed through town half an hour ago. The moist air smelled clean and fresh, appropriately underscoring the events of the afternoon and his current sense of satisfaction. In the middle of the night, Doug Warnick had telephoned to tell him that Millie had begun experiencing light contractions about twenty minutes apart. After listening to the description of Millie’s condition, McCoy had concluded that she’d entered the early phase of the first stage of
labor, and he’d recommended that she simply stay in bed and try to rest, or even sleep. She would be giving birth at home and so needn’t worry about getting to the hospital in Greenville.

  McCoy had contacted the hospital this morning, though, not about the Warnicks, but about Audie Glaston. When McCoy had found that the hospital could spare no phenytoin, he’d contacted the pharmaceutical company in Atlanta. He’d spoken with a man named Kane, who had informed him that his shipment of the drug had been sent out two weeks ago and therefore had probably been lost somewhere along the way. Mr. Kane had agreed to replace the phenytoin, though, and McCoy had made arrangements for Lynn to pick it up this afternoon. She’d left just after ten this morning, deciding that she would take in a movie after all, then spend the night in Atlanta and drive back to Hayden tomorrow.

  Not long after McCoy had seen her off, Doug had called again, this time to report Millie’s contractions less than five minutes from one to the next, clearly suggesting that she’d entered the active phase of the first stage of labor. McCoy had collected the medical items he would need and had driven out to the Warnick’s house. Late this afternoon, Millie had delivered a healthy seven-pound-thirteen-ounce baby boy.

  Now, McCoy entered his house with a smile on his face. He’d always enjoyed delivering babies, though back during his time in Starfleet, and then in New York City, he’d had few opportunities to do so. Since arriving in Hayden, though, he’d participated in quite a few births.

  After bringing in all of his medical items and returning them to their proper places, McCoy went into the kitchen to cook supper for himself. As he sat down to eat, he missed Lynn. For years, they’d taken most of their evening meals together, and when they didn’t, the time felt incomplete. He owed her a great deal of thanks, though, for offering to drive down to Atlanta for Audie Glaston’s seizure medication. An abrupt stop to the medication, which Audie took three times daily, could result in status epilepticus—a state of continued seizure activity that could lead to brain damage or even death. Audie needed the phenytoin, and Lynn had gladly stepped up to get it for him.