The news about the donor organ, now sitting in a cooling box in the ambulance bay, sent a wave of despair through the dimly lit surgical floor. Dr. Kowalski emerged from Maya’s room, her face etched with exhaustion and frustration under the emergency lights.
“We have the donor tissue,” she announced to the hushed staff, “but without the digital matching software, without the automated viability scans, it’s impossible to safely verify. The risk of fatal rejection is too high without proper screening.”
She ran a hand through her hair, her gaze sweeping across the anxious faces.
“It’s just too dangerous. We can’t proceed.”
A profound silence fell, broken only by the distant hum of the remaining battery systems. Julian buried his face in his hands, a low, guttural sound escaping his throat. Maya’s fate was sealed by the darkness, by the silent computers.
Arthur stepped forward, his voice cutting through the despair.
“That’s not entirely true, Elena.”
Dr. Kowalski turned, her eyes narrowed in confusion.
“Arthur, what are you talking about? There’s no manual protocol for rapid tissue viability.”
“There is,” Arthur replied, his gaze unwavering. “A protocol I developed more than twenty-five years ago. It’s unfiled, unpublished. I kept it private.”
He held her gaze.
“It’s called Ischemia Protocol 4. A hand-calculated method for determining live-tissue compatibility based on cellular oxygenation rates. It’s precise. Accurate.”
Julian looked up, his eyes bloodshot, a flicker of something raw and desperate appearing in their depths. He stared at his father, at the man he had tried to ruin, the man who now held the key to his daughter’s life. The realization washed over him, a cold wave of terror and shame.
Arthur Pendelton, the man he had sabotaged, was the only person on earth who could manually verify the match. He was the only one who could save Maya.
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