Free Weapon of Choice by Patricia Gussin

from—
this
.”
    â€œWhat’s going on in your life, Victor?” Naomi asked. “You still a bachelor?”
    â€œAfraid so.” Should he tell them about Matthew? No, of course not.
    â€œNaomi, why don’t you give us a few moments?” Norman asked. “Just move this goddamned pillow over toward me. Please.”
    â€œI’ll stay, darling. I just came from the cafeteria—”
    â€œI want to talk shop with Victor,” Norman said. “Good-old-days stuff. You’ll be bored. Go call the kids or something.”
    â€œWell, okay, Norman.” To Victor, she said, “I’ll catch you later.” Her lips brushed his cheek. “You need a shave—and a change of clothes. I just can’t believe running into you.”
    As Naomi withdrew, an alarm screeched. Nurses and doctors rushed to a bed across the room, and Victor swallowed a surge of bile.
    No sooner had the commotion quieted down around the other bed than Norman challenged his unexpected visitor, “What are you really here for, Victor? I was your boss for fifteen years; I know it’s something else. What’s up?”
    Victor blinked, tried to sort out his thoughts. Rationally, he knew that Matthew seemed to be improving without ticokellin. Still, Victor wanted it, was entitled to it. Ticokellin, though flawed, had been his invention. Not only had he discovered the new class of drugs from which Norman had selected the wrong analog for development, but he’d genetically engineered the most virulent and resistant of staphylococci bacteria so that he could thoroughly test the series of new chemicals.
    Now, standing at Norman’s bedside, Victor felt a wave of white-hot anger. He’d warned Norman not to take the cheapest analog to the clinic, but Norman had ignored him and now ticokellin wasdead in the water. Keystone Pharma would have to start all over again with a safer analog, surely the one he’d earmarked in the first place.
    â€œNorman, I’m not going to beat around the bush. You being here in the ICU, and I’m sorry that I have to ask, but I need some ticokellin. I have a friend—” Some protective instinct told him not to say son.
    Norman tried to jerk his head up off the pillow, but his IVs and probably his fractured hip held him back. Victor heard the beep-beep of Norman’s heart monitor get faster.
    â€œYou can’t be serious, Victor.”
    â€œNorman, take a breath. Please—just hear me out.”
    â€œNo use. Before you even start, I’ve got bad news. Keystone Pharma stopped the clinical trials. They weren’t going to tell me, but I’ve got my contacts.”
    â€œThen use your contacts to get the ticokellin, Norman. I need that drug for my friend.”
    â€œWhat part of ‘no,’ don’t you get? I can’t get a goddamned drug that’s been withdrawn. Victor, stop being so naïve. Haven’t I always said you’re too academic? You wouldn’t last a day in industry.”
    A reminder to Victor that this was the prick who’d stood in the way of his getting a cushy job at Keystone Pharma, too.
    â€œYou must have some stashed away. If not—with your connections—you know you could get some. Just call somebody there. Somebody who used to work for you will have access.”
    â€œNo way. When I retired, I retired. I’m not doing research on the side. I’m not even consulting. I’m golfing, and sailing—well, I was sailing.”
    â€œBack in the labs, you know, we always squirreled away drugs we were working on. Hell, I first learned that from you, so don’t try to deny—”
    Norman’s color had faded to an ashen pallor. The heart rate monitor had not increased, but abnormal beeps were making Victor nervous. He was so close—he would get that ticokellin. He knew that Norman could get it.
    â€œForget it. Pharmaceutical companies are not like