"The cancer one? Not a chance. If it's as bad as he says it is, the malignancy has probably metastasized right up and down her body by now. Maybe we could bring her back to life, but we couldn't keep her alive afterward."
"I see. How about other diseases?"
Raymond shrugged. "If the organic damage is beyond repair, we can't do a thing. But if it's repairable, you can figure a good chance of success. Take a patient with cardiac tissue scarred by repeated attacks. One more attack will finish him—and so would any operation to correct the condition. But now we can 'kill' him ourselves, install an artificial heart, and reanimate. He could live another thirty years that way."
"In other words—"
The phone rang. Raymond swiveled around and scooped it lightly off its cradle without activating the video. He frowned, then said, "Yes. Yes. I get you. No, we won't make any such concessions. Go ahead, then. Sue, if you like. We'll counter-sue."
He hung up.
"What the blazes was that?" Harker demanded.
"Do you know a lawyer named Phil Gerhardt?"
Harker thought for a moment, then said, "Sure. He's a flashy lawsuit man, about as honest as snow in the Sahara. What about him?"
"He just called," Raymond said, scratching the lobe of one ear thoughtfully. "Seems he's representing Mitchison and Klaus. They got their dismissal notices and they're suing for a million bucks plus control of the Labs. Isn't that lovely?"