Free Parasite Eve by Hideaki Sena

generally fresher, and, more importantly, there would
be more donors. This would lessen the chances of recipients requiring
long-distance donations.
        Until just a few years ago,
Yoshizumi and his fellow staff had even gone through the trouble of obtaining
kidneys from America by air. Though problems of morality were imposed upon the
medical community when it tried to extract organs from brain-dead ¡patients in
Japan, it was able to find some of the organs it needed ¿overseas. At that
time, Yoshizumi thought Japanese society odd for being so sensitive about
Japanese donors when it quietly accepted organs from the States. At any rate,
the results were not good because of the lengthy transportation time. The
recipients, waiting for their urine to flow, would fret, panic, and weep when
it did not. All recipients believed that a rosy life awaited them once they got
their transplants. They never suspected that the operation might end in
failure. Yoshizumi’s heart sank whenever he had to inform a recipient, about a
malfunctioning kidney in need of extraction. Some recipients would ask for
another transplant, and some of them would indeed get another kidney and be
cleared from the hardships of dialysis. Others would shake their heads and say
they never wanted to go through another transplant.
        The face of a former patient
came to his mind. A single woman in her thirties, she stood before him, her
hair loose and unkempt. She spoke with a hint of scorn as a wary smile rose to
her lips. “I’ve had enough, doctor,” she told him. “It’s not like I’m getting
any younger. I won’t be able to get any good jobs now, and I’ve already given
up on having children. I’m fine with dialysis. I don’t need this false hope
anymore. You keep telling me someday I’ll be able to eat whatever I want again
and even travel abroad. Don’t mislead me with your lies. Do you have any idea
how I felt when you told me it had to be removed? I wish I’d never heard of
transplants. If I knew only about dialysis, I wouldn’t have had to go through that .
Enough, doctor. I’m too tired...”
        The ambulance turned a sharp
curve. His eyes still closed, he took a deep breath. He knew this curve well.
It belonged to the road leading to the hospital.
       
        A completely naked Mariko lay
face up on the operating table covered by a cloth. Her body was still innocent
and childlike and had changed little from two years ago. The anesthesia tube
extended from her face into a machine. The anesthesiologist stood by to keep a
close eye on things.
        Nearly everything was
prepared before Yoshizumi’s return and Mariko’s body was now thoroughly
cleansed. In a sterilized room, the only sources of bacteria were human beings
themselves, so hygiene was especially important. It was necessary to disinfect
the recipient’s skin assiduously before the operation. The assistants had
applied an antibacterial solution with a brush, similar in shape to a scourer
one might use to clean the dishes, scrubbing Mariko’s lower abdomen and thighs.
Any bodily hair, such as pubic hair, hindered the operation, and had been
shaved off the day before. And, because bacteria could infect razor nicks, her
lower body had been protected throughout the night and day with a sterile
towel.
        Yoshizumi stood to Mariko’s
left. Joining him also were two anesthesiologists, three surgical assistants,
and two nurses. The walls were a light green and exuded a most inorganic feel.
Excepting the large equipment and the operating table, the room was bare and
looked more spacious than necessary. The doctors wore green surgical gowns
similar in color to the cover sheet that draped the lower half of Mariko’s
body. Amid this sea of green, her abdomen stood out in bizarre contrast.
        Yoshizumi looked up at the
shadowless lights in the ceiling: six ball-shaped bulbs arranged in a circle,
an additional one nestled in their center. The lighting in an OR