Chapter 11: Easy There, Kid

As she expertly handled the Ferrari's steering wheel, Kara filled Byron in on her father's condition. "Byron, my father has always been robust. But three months ago, he suddenly developed a strange condition, something like ALS." "At first, he was just tired and weak. As time went on, he couldn't muster any strength at all. Now he's completely bedridden and on machines that are keeping his vital signs stable." Her voice dropped as she spoke, the strain and fear cutting through her composure. Byron listened in silence, his expression unreadable. Kara went on, "I pulled every string I had and brought in Scott, the renowned physician from Jenos. Even he said my father's case was extremely rare, and that at best he could only stabilize him for a while. Byron, how confident are you that you can cure my father?" Byron raised his chin slightly, his eyes calm and self-assured. "One hundred percent." Kara's brows knit. "You haven't even seen him yet. How can you be so sure?" "If I can't cure it, no one can," Byron said as if it were the most ordinary fact in the world. She studied the young man beside her but couldn't get a read on him. Even so, she had no choice but to place her hopes on this enigmatic stranger. She floored it, and the Ferrari tore down the road like a red streak of lightning. Soon, they pulled up at Holiti Private Hospital. The entrance was grand, the golden sign glinting in the sunlight. Two rows of uniformed security guards stood at attention, their faces stern and eyes sharp. The moment Kara's car rolled in, they snapped to attention and saluted. Kara and Byron stepped out and headed straight for the lobby. Her tall, willowy frame and cool, striking poise drew stares.  Byron, a touch rakish, narrowed his eyes and got the lay of the land. Several doctors spotted them and began to whisper. "Isn't that Ms. Thubron? Who's the young guy with her? Did she bring in a new specialist?" Another doctor snorted. "Please. In front of Scott Helwick, no one in Jenos would dare call themselves a miracle worker. He looks barely out of college. What could he possibly know?" "Ms. Thubron must be grasping at straws. She's going to get taken for a ride." Kara heard the murmurs and felt a flicker of irritation, but she kept her stride and ushered Byron into the elevator, pressing the button for the VIP floor. When the doors slid open, they stepped onto Monty's floor. A few nurses rushed past with a medical cart and paused to give Kara a brisk, respectful nod. Outside the ward, a group of well-known physicians was huddled in an urgent consult. Kara had summoned the best in Jenos, and every face in that circle looked grave, every gaze fixed. A gray-haired doctor frowned as Kara and Byron arrived. "Ms. Thubron, and this is?" Kara inclined her head. "This is Byron Qualls. I brought him in to treat my father." Surprise flashed across the physicians' faces. Their eyes traveled up and down Byron, heavy with doubt. "Ms. Thubron," a younger doctor said, "you can't just bring anyone to treat Mr. Thubron. He looks so young. What credentials does he have?" Another added, "Exactly. We're the top doctors in Jenos, and even we're stumped by the chairman's condition. How could a nobody do better?" Byron stood in the doorway, undisturbed by their skepticism. "Treating illness takes real skill, not talk." The corridor erupted into a noisy stir. A bespectacled doctor pounced first. "Young man, don't be so arrogant. We are authorities in the Jenos medical community. Even we're stumped by Mr. Thubron's case. What makes you so confident?" An elderly doctor with silver hair looked Byron over with open disdain. "Big words for a youngster. What's your background? Where did you train? What credentials do you have? How dare you spout off in front of specialists like us?" Byron folded his arms, unruffled. "A résumé? Credentials? Sorry, I don't have either." That set them off. "What? No medical license? This is outrageous." The gray-haired elder stamped his foot. "Ms. Thubron, this is the person you brought? How can someone without a license treat the chairman?" The young doctor turned to Kara, clearly anxious. "Don't let him fool you. If something goes wrong, who'll take responsibility?" Others chimed in at once, voices tripping over one another in scorn and warning. Some scoffed that he didn't know up from down, some called him a fraud, and others shook their heads that Kara was clutching at straws. Kara frowned and stepped in for Byron. "Byron may not have a license, but he cured a patient who had been declared permanently paralyzed. I believe he can help my father." The physicians answered with thin smiles. "Don't be fooled, Ms. Thubron. There are too many charlatans. Anyone can hire a plant and stage a cure." "Exactly. He's a con man for sure." An older doctor spoke more softly. "Ms. Thubron, please wait for Scott to arrive. He's Jenos's most renowned physician. He'll know what to do. If you let this young man meddle, the chairman's condition may worsen." Kara hesitated. She looked to Byron, asking for something more.  He only stood there, cool and indifferent, as if none of it fazed him. Suddenly, an alarm wailed from inside the ward. Faces blanched. The physicians rushed in. Kara hurried after them. Monty's condition had crashed. His face had drained of color, his breathing had turned shallow and rapid, and the readings on the monitors jumped erratically. The physicians clustered at the bedside, talking in urgent whispers, but no one acted. "Doctors, please, do something for my father," Kara pleaded, panic breaking through. They glanced at one another, embarrassed, no one daring to take the lead. The alarms kept beeping. The air tightened until it felt hard to breathe. Kara spun toward Byron. He stood like a pillar, steady as a rock. "Byron, what do we do? Can you save him?" "I wouldn't have come if I weren't sure," he said. The doctors sneered openly. "Young man, stop bragging," the gray-haired one snapped. "Mr. Thubron is in critical condition. Who do you think you are, someone who can snatch life from the jaws of death?" "Right," another chimed in, "You don't even have a license. What makes you think you can treat him?" Kara didn't waver. She looked Byron in the eye. "Please." Byron nodded, stepped inside, and went straight to the bedside. He took one look and knew what was wrong. Someone had put a curse on Monty. "So the chairman had made enemies," Byron thought. He didn't hesitate. He placed his palm lightly on Monty's forehead and sent a fine stream of pure energy into him. At once, a faint glow blossomed from Byron's hand and spread over Monty. The change was immediate. Color crept back into Monty's cheeks. His breathing evened out, and the numbers on the monitors leveled out. Relief and wonder shone brightly in Kara's eyes. The physicians stared, baffled and shaken. They couldn't reconcile what they were seeing with what they believed. "How is that possible? He just touched Mr. Thubron, and the crisis eased?" a young doctor murmured. "Pure dumb luck," another said, unwilling to concede. "His symptoms are intermittent. It must have subsided on its own."