When his eyes finally fluttered open, they were met by a flood of blinding light, and immediately closed.
“Kill the light!” shot Rachel, propelling Williams from his stool to turn off the overhead lamp. Even dimmed was too bright.
It took several minutes before the patient tried again. This time, reopening in a series of uncontrolled flutters, blinking repeatedly over a pair of highly dilated pupils.
“Now close them,” she whispered. “If you can.”
The eyelids shut.
Rachel looked at Williams breathlessly. Glasgow three!
“What’s going on?”
Masten answered the younger Yamada without turning from the monitor. “GCS. Glasgow Coma Scale. Neurologic assessment for patients following severe trauma.”
“Ah. And?”
This time Masten turned. “And a response to sound, or voice, is a good sign.”
Like Lagner’s, Yamada’s background was in engineering. He had little to no understanding of the medical side of the operation beyond what he picked up in their meetings or what Rachel told him. But it was clear from her and Williams’s expression onscreen, as well as Masten’s explanation, that this was a significant step forward.
With the light still off, Rachel leaned forward and spoke again. “If you can hear me … try opening your eyes again.”
Several seconds later, the fluttering returned. Uncontrolled, but interrupted by brief moments of straining open.
“It’s okay,” she said, tenderly stroking his forehead. “Take your time. Go slow.”
She and Williams waited. Patiently. Expectantly. And were surprised when something else moved instead, a mild tremble in his right hand and then fingers.
Then it stopped.
Next, the left hand moved, more erratic at first, but a similar pattern.
They continued watching as the movement ceased and started again in the right foot. Then left. Small movements, as if the patient was searching out each extremity.
When all movement stopped, their attention returned to his face, where the eyes were trying once again to open.
The sounds continued to fade along with some of the pain, allowing him to focus on the words—the voice sounded like a woman. And close by.
He tried moving but couldn’t tell if any of his limbs had responded, and he returned his attention to the words coming to him from the ether, followed by another attempt to open his eyes.
But when he finally managed to open them, he saw only white.