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sure. I appreciate that you're assisting me today, Rick, even though I know you're functioning on adrenaline.'
    Rick chuckled ruefully. 'Dr Claibourne wanted some help, but I told him I'd already done a work-up on your patient, so I wanted to follow through with that.'
    'Good,' Clay said.
    'Talking of Dr Claibourne, sir, are you going to be taking over his position when he steps down? I'm asking because it would be great if we could have two really good guys one after the other. There are rumours.'
    'Well,' Clay said carefully, 'I have expressed an interest. That's all I can really say at the moment. And I don't want that spread around, Rick. I'm not about to set myself up to look like a loser if someone beats me to it, or if I decide not to go for it.'
    'Yeah, I understand,' Rick said. 'There're all sorts of dirty tricks abounding in these days of tight money. The latest sick joke going the rounds is that the definition of a friend in a hospital these days is someone who stabs you in the chest rather than in the back.'
    Smiling commiseratingly, they both entered operating room four. Sophie paused in what she was doing to pass them sterile towels on which to dry their hands and arms, then she opened a sterile gown, holding it by the shoulders so that Clay could put his arms into the sleeves. The second circulating RN in the room, Cathy Stravinsky, tied the gown up at the back. Rhona May was running between two rooms. Sophie held open each rubber glove in turn so that Clay could insert his hands.
    'Thank you, Ms Dunhill,' he murmured, noting that she didn't meet his eyes before she turned away to open a sterile gown for Rick. Vowing to maintain his equanimity at all costs today, he turned towards their patient on the operating table.
    Mike Dolby was already anaesthetized, the end of a plastic endotracheal tube protruding from his mouth and attached by tubing to the anaesthetic machine that was delivering oxygen and the anaesthetic gases that would keep him unconscious. The two intravenous lines were running fluid into veins in the backs of his hands. Dr Alex White was standing at the head of the table, between the patient and the anaesthetic machine.
    'May I start, Alex?' Clay asked.
    'Yes, I'm all set,' Dr White said, making some adjustments to the gas gauges on his equipment.
    'Are you all set, Ms Dunhill?'
    'Yes. Go ahead.'
    Cathy Stravinsky folded back the green cotton sheet that covered their patient to expose his abdomen. Clay took a breath and blew it out slowly. He picked up the sponge-holding forceps, with a gauze sponge already in place, which Sophie had prepared for him on a separate prep tray, and with his other hand he picked up the small metal pot of Betadine iodine solution. As he approached his patient he was able, from long experience and training, to clear his mind of everything but the case in hand. With sure, sweeping motions he spread the cleansing solution over the pale skin.
    Sophie handed him four small sterile green towels, folded in half, which he positioned on the patient's abdomen, leaving exposed a relatively small rectan gular area of skin which had been cleaned with the iodine antiseptic solution. Then she handed him four towel clips with sharp, fine, pincer-like tips which anchored the towels to the skin. This was their operation site.
    Next, she passed him a large disposable, waterproof sheet which had a small area cut out of its centre, that covered the entire patient, leaving the slit over the operation site. Over this went a similar large green cotton sheet. Using more towel clips, Clay carefully secured the sheets around the operation site.
    He could have done all this preparation with his eyes closed, of course, if he had to, yet Clay never let his concentration waver for one moment. In addition to Rick, he was assisted by two surgical interns who would hold retractors if necessary and might be allowed to cut some catgut or silk ties or sutures. Mainly, they were there to observe and to