Episode Two: The Claws That Catch: An infestation of intelligent, giant lobster creatures tests the courage and abilities of Dr. Danielle Taylor.
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The
Claws That Catch
(continued)
Blissfully pain-free in her bed at Taylor General Hospital, it took Dani a second to recognize the smiling young man at the door. “Jack? Why aren’t you in Washington?”
“Visiting some constituents on the waterfront when the Devilfish first came out.” Senator John F. Kennedy sat down by her bed and the smile faded. “One hell of a mess, wasn’t it—you know some of my friends couldn’t believe it when I said the ‘Danny Taylor’ who fought off two dozen Devilfish was a woman.”
“I didn’t do anything of the sort.” He offered her a cigarette, lit it for her when she accepted. “The doctors tell me something killed the Devilfish but—”
“Jimmy Raxton, a remarkable young genius. Apparently he dissected a couple of corpses, then concocted a gas that doesn’t hurt us, but makes it impossible for them to breathe air. He thinks it can make it impossible for them to breathe water, either, but it’s ‘a little more complicated.’ So how are you? I imagine you’re getting the best of care—”
“Good as can be. Some scarring from the claws, but my ribs are healing fine.”
“Well, we may not be able to wait. There’s a medal ceremony coming up and if I have to take you in a wheelchair—”
“A medal?” Dani shook her head. “I told you, I didn’t do anything.”
“You kept dozens of patients alive at great personal risk, according to your intern. Not to mention O’Halloran, the guy you saved from the Devilfish—seems you accidentally shot his leg, too, but he’s willing to overlook that. And if you say you didn’t fight off the Devilfish, people will think you’re just modest.” Dani started to protest, but he waved her quiet. “You’re Paul Taylor’s daughter, and the Taylor name has a long history in Boston. Honoring you as we start rebuilding will mean a lot to a lot of people.
“Not to mention I was talking to a man named Broome downstairs, visiting a friend of his. He writes comic-books for a living, he seems to think he could write up your story for Weird Adventures or whatever it was.”
“Wonderful.” She smoked thoughtfully for a second, contemplating the Taylor name, and the hospital it built. Working with Negroes? Putting my life on the line? Appearing in the funny books? That’s what Dad would have called wasting my talents. Mom, too.
“I know a family name can be a hard thing to live up to,” Jack said, as if reading her thoughts. “Working with the Coast Guard the past couple of weeks felt more productive than anything I’ve done in the Senate.”
“You want to re-enlist?” Dani remembered what she knew of Jack’s atrophied adrenal glands and other health problems. “I hate to say this, but—”
“Relax.” He shifted awkwardly for a second, then went on. “Ike’s talking about the need for an international response to this sort of thing, maybe even working with the Reds; I don’t have to tell you how many good men we lost fighting the lobsters—not to mention the Martians and the ants—but there’ll be opposition. Putting my weight behind something like that, something to give us a chance in this new space age—”
“That’s one of the best ideas I’ve heard from any politician.” Martha Knight stood in the doorway, clutching a paper cup of coffee and a cruller. “How are you doing, doctor?”
“Okay, all things considered. Jack—” Dani waved with her good arm. “—this is Dr. Knight. When you get back to Washington, will you please see if there’s a few thousand the federal budget could spare for her clinic. She could use it, and she’d make good use of it. And I heard Miller’s is threatening to sue over turning their store into a ‘Negro clinic.’ If you—”
“They won’t.” Jack said, standing stiffly. He chatted to Martha about the clinic, applying charm automatically as he often did, then excused himself. “There are a couple more patients I need to visit, so I’ll be back when you’ve finished your consultation.”
“So that’s Joe Kennedy’s boy, eh?” Knight took the chair she’d vacated, lighting a menthol cigarette and looking at Dani’s charts. “Well, I guess you came through in good shape, considering all the risks you took.”
“How about our patients?”
“The Japs are fine, most of the others pulled through. Tomkins, the kid with battle fatigue, he’s still half out of his mind, Hawkins had some internal bleeding we didn’t catch—” Dani cursed under her breath. “It’s not a bad outcome, if you ignore the lost legs, the maimed arms—
“Why’d you do it?” Knight leaned forward, her tone half-accusatory, half-concerned. “Making all the medicine runs, trying to save the guy in the street, what’s driving you to put your life on the line?”
“Nothing!” Dani started to sit up, realized it was too much effort and lay there. “Would you have let that man die?”
“You must have known you couldn’t save him. If the Raxton Vapor hadn’t worked, you’d both be dead.”
“If I’d thought about it, sure I’d have known. But I saw him about to die and I didn’t think. That’s all.”
“It’s not all.” Her dark eyes bored into Dani’s, hard and challenging. “You had a chance to get out the first night—”
“Not much of one.”
“—but you stayed and helped. I know what your father thought about colored doctors working with white doctors, let alone having them work on white patients. If he’d heard what you—”
“My father was a great man! This hospital and what it’s done for the community is proof of that. And yes…you’re right about what he thought, but he wouldn’t think the same way if he’d survived the Invasion, I’m sure of that. Nothing’s the same any more.”
“No?”
“Like Jack was saying, this isn’t going to end here. There’ll be more mutations, more spacemen, more invasions, and we won’t survive unless we work together. It’s not about American and Russian, Negro and Caucasian, Jew or Christian—it’s human beings against everything else. We either stand united or we’re dead.”
“And you really think your father would agree.” An expression Dani couldn’t fathom crossed Knight’s face. “One thing I’m sure of, your Paul Taylor would never have taken the risks you did. Not for Negroes, not for anyone.”
“I always thought I was a chip off the old block, but…” Dani studied the tip of her cigarette, then crushed it out. “He was proud of me. A doctor with a business degree, just the person to take over as head of this hospital someday.” Grief, and a memory of the ray-blasted Taylor house knifed into her. “That was his dream…but it was supposed to be years from now.”
“And your dream?”
Did I even have one? He and Mom were always so clear about where my life was going… “There are better things to do than pushing papers. The National Guard MASH units, they’re going to need doctors; I have a feeling they may need a lot of doctors.”
“May I give you some free advice?” Dani nodded. “You can’t save everyone. Nobody can. You’re a good doctor, but if you don’t accept some cases are hopeless, it’ll eat you up alive.”
“We thought it was hopeless when the Martians came. And those Jap tourists, they didn’t give up and they’re alive. I mean, I know I can’t save everyone, but…at least if I try, if I’m fighting, maybe I won’t feel so helpless next time.”
“You weren’t helpless. You took some stupid risks, but you helped me save a lot of people.” Knight rose and after a second’s hesitation, offered her hand; after a second’s hesitation, Dani took it. “Shall I send Senator Kennedy back in?”
“If you see him. I’ll remind him about your clinic and that stupid lawsuit.”
As Knight walked away, Dani glanced at the unloaded six-shooter she’d insisted the staff leave on her bedside table, though they’d masked it with as many vases of flowers as possible. I guess war really is hell, but I remember you talking about the boys you’d saved, Grandpa, and how proud you sounded.
Dani glanced around the hospital room, and down the hall at the staff. Her father’s monument, his crowning achievement.
And she knew it would be surprisingly easy to bid it goodbye.
Applied
Science 2: The Claws That Catch
by Fraser Sherman 1 2