Cell by Robin Cook Page A

was subsequently contacted by iDoc at later intervals, unprompted, asking to monitor my saliva again. Might have forgotten, but iDoc did not.”
    â€œBut what about this call center? Isn’t that cheating? Because real doctors are the backup?”
    â€œNot at all. iDoc has been learning. Learning
fast
. Just as Lewis Langley reported. iDoc is using the ‘real doctor’ backup at a significantly lower rate now than at the beginning of the beta-test period.”
    â€œWhere is this call center located?”
    â€œUpstairs on the seventh floor of the neighboring building, which houses Amalgamated’s home office. Would you like to see it? I’d be happy to show it to you.” She was enjoying this. Her tendency to show off was taking over.
    â€œYou can leave here?” George motioned to the crowd of investors.
    â€œYeah. The sad reality for me is that when it gets to crunch time, these hedge fund guys would rather talk to a man than a woman. They’re more than happy to make small talk and hit on me, but serious investment talk is reserved for Bradley. I think they believe that I’m some sort of a PR front man.”
    George scrutinized her. If she resented the sexism, she wasn’t showing it. She just seemed to be acknowledging a fact.
    â€œOkay. Why not? Let’s check it out,” George said.
    â€¢Â Â Â â€¢Â Â Â â€¢
    G eorge followed Paula into the Century Towers. The building was sleek, modern, high-tech, and oozed prestige. Paula reminded him that it also had an unfortunate nickname, the Death Star, a reference to
Star Wars
and the ultimate weapon in the Galactic Empire’s arsenal. The name had nothing to do with Amalgamated. The building was bestowed the moniker because its lobby bore a striking resemblance to the interior of the film series’ Death Star and because Hollywood’s top talent agency, so secretive and powerful that it literally terrified everyone, including many of its clients, had taken up residence in the tower. Paula said that Thorn didn’t mind the nickname. In fact he hoped its suggestive powers would cause employees and vendors to pledge their loyalty to him. A fantasy, of course, but Thorn liked to indulge in them from time to time.
    Paula led George through the massive white marble lobby and over to a concierge desk, where she arranged visitor credentials for George. With the proper guest pass in hand, they approached the bank of elevators, where the IDs were scrutinized by two large and intimidating guards.
    â€œThey take security seriously here,” George said under his breath as they entered an elevator.
    â€œYou don’t know the half of it,” Paula replied.
    After they exited the elevator they had to show their credentials to another couple of guards at the entrance to the call center. Even though they obviously knew Paula, they checked her ID and scanned it into a reader along with George’s. Paula and George walked into what looked like a call center on steroids. It was a massive open space divided into comfortable cubicles with six-feet-tall, thick glass partitions serving as walls. Each office was occupied by a single, carefully groomed, white-smocked man or woman. Each cubicle also held a sleek glass table and ergonomic chair. And that was it. Nothing else. There were no computers, no monitors, no headphones, no papers or pens visible. Nothing, save an occasional insulated coffee mug. What astounded George was that the glass walls acted as computer monitors. The keyboards were virtual impressions on the glass desktops. George could see images of medical files flashing by. FaceTime-style chats with patients were projected as well. The operators were zooming in on this or that by touching their desktops. George noticed that a few doctors were using some sort of 3D hologram while viewing MRI and X-ray images of internal organs and bone structure. They could manipulate and rotate these images