The Inquisitor Read Online Free

intensive care unit. If you learn nothing else, you'll at least be able to impress family and friends with all these neat acronyms."
    A third of the audience laughed. The remainder groaned. Stewart made this same joke every year.
    "And if you lose your handouts, feel free to make yourself floppies. This laptop is at your disposal, and the password is Tocco, T-o-c-c-o, my dog's name…"
    Earl tuned it all out, mentally preparing what he would say to sum up the session. The SARS outbreak had catapulted doctors into a level of risk that hadn't existed in North America since the 1918 flu epidemic, and forced them to adopt protective measures unprecedented in modern hospitals. No one in this room had planned to take on that kind of danger when they chose medicine as a career. How the hell did he address that?
    "… and while during the day you may be internists, surgeons, gynecologists, et cetera, residency cutbacks necessitate that at night you will cover a multitude of services, again like last year…"
    This time Stewart got a howl of disapproval from the newcomers. High up in the back row a kid who had black Brillo pads for eyebrows and who looked lost in his voluminous OR gown leapt to his feet, teetering over the similarly attired confreres sitting in front of him. "What if we need help?" he yelled.
    Equally youthful looking colleagues joined in.
    "… yeah…"
    "… a lack of supervision…"
    "… violates our contract…"
    Earl marveled at how they could get so exercised over such a traditional complaint as the on-call roster when the new normal they faced loomed so large. Odds were that the first-year people, with so much to learn, would slip up more than anyone else when it came to all the protective measures they must practice. As a consequence, no other group in the room stood a greater chance of ending up sick, maybe even dead.
    Stewart waved them quiet with the palms of his hands. "Easy, people, easy. We'll also have full-time staff doctors in the critical care areas I mentioned. That frees the R-twos and R-threes on duty there to come and assist you on the floors when you call them. It's a system that's worked well."
    A few of the rookies continued to mutter, and some rolled their eyes in exasperation. The second- and third-year people remained silent and slumped in their chairs. They were all too aware that scheduling arrangements didn't matter much against an unseen threat ready to get you on any shift, at any time.
    "What about ER?" a lone voice inquired from somewhere behind and above. "Will R-two and R-three people there be expected to back up arrests on the floors as in the past, or did you finally get that note from my mother saying we needed our sleep?"
    This brought a much-needed laugh from everyone.
    Earl smiled, recognizing the easy drawl of Dr. Thomas Biggs, his own emergency medicine protege. He looked around and saw the lanky Tennessee native sprawled in his seat a few rows from the top with the laid-back air that he had made his trademark. Even with his mask on, the bottom margin of his black beard could be seen under his chin. On either side of him sat the other men and women in the ER program. Thomas, in his last year of training as an emergency medicine specialist, would serve as Earl's chief resident and supervise teaching during the next three months. After that he'd begin a final rotation through all the other critical care areas Stewart had just mentioned. Judging by his performance so far, he had the potential to be a real star and would undoubtedly make a major contribution wherever he ended up.
    Stewart stiffened. "Right, Thomas. I should have included ER. Night coverage there will be the same as in the critical care units- a staff presence twenty-four seven plus second- and third-year folks who'll offer backup on the floors." His voice took on an edge that hadn't been there before. "Now, before I turn over these proceedings to Dr. Earl Garnet," he went on, his tone even more clipped, "our