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Isaac woke from his thoughts beside his computer, with a cup of coffee in his hand. Oh, coffee When did I manage to make that Some things get done on autopilot, as if you have your own barman sitting inside you, Isaac chuckled to himself, but he wasnt feeling cheerful. Stop. Why go straight to the computer Thats a habit. I have to call the hospital and find out about Vicky. Grace Kelly Hospital, how can I help you the phone said in the familiar rapid patter. My name is Isaac Leroy Isaac cleared his throat, his voice was hoarse. Im calling to find out about the condition of my sister, Victoria Frank. One moment. He was put through to a different number, introduced himself again and was reconnected again. Finally he heard the duty nurse in the right department rummaging through her papers and the clatter of a keyboard and then a considerate voice chirped in his ear. Monsieur Leroy. Isaac could never get used to that ceremonial form of address, and he ced every time. Monsieur Leroy, your sister has stabilized and the worst has passed. At the moment she is listed as serious but in stable condition. But I was told shes in a coma I want to speak to her doctor. The stupid, pathetic hope aroused by the medical term stable condition had been a mistake. The doctor confirmed that Vicky was in a coma, but only yesterday her condition had been much worse. She could have died. It was all over now, the doctors were monitoring her progress and it would be clear when the surgery could be performed. Theres no need to hurry with the money, Monsieur Leroy, but nonetheless we have to be ready to carry out the operation, the doctor concluded, said goodbye and hung up.

Isaac was trembling, he instantly pictured Vicky so pale, so fragile, so seeking help and sustained by hope only. Something inside of him broke down and Isaac burst out crying. It was painful to realize that he had delayed for far too long, he felt sorry for himself. She could have died as I didnt even consider downloading till the very end. The intrusion of the dumbass terrorist could have taken the lives of both of us. Why did I not come at least a day before What a fool I was Worse than any Veggie. The damned Agency They have everything they need to cure people: the technologies, the methodologies, the highclass specialists and all of that thanks to sucking creativity out of people like me and Pascal. But no one benefits from it all because the treatment has to be paid for. Until we go to that freaking Agency to sell our creativity, people, our nearest and dearest, just keep getting worse

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