"Just speak freely?"
"Just say whatever comes to mind. You don't have to answer from a doctor's perspective." Kraft leaned comfortably against the armrest, trying to make the atmosphere more relaxed. "It's not like we can revoke your degree."
Villen ran a hand over the spines of the two copies of Human Anatomy, feeling the thick layer of dust, then said ominously, "No, I actually can."
"Come on, Lecturer Villen. You let it slide back then, and he's an outstanding alumnus, isn't he?" After all these years, David had drifted far from the knowledge in those books he never used. These days, he might not even pass an exam set by the Fifteenth.
Kraft guided Villen back into his chair, stopping him from imagining the current surgical skills of students who'd graduated years ago.
"I see you have a lot of patients with infectious diseases here. You've surely seen more cases than they do at the Academy, so I'm sure you have your own insights."
David shot him a grateful look, shoved his heart back down from his throat, then sank into his seat and began wondering what useful information he could offer.
It was undoubtedly a little difficult. At present, internal medicine was far more conservative than surgery, yet in some respects it was remarkably open-minded.
Its conservatism came from the fact that pharmacological theory and methods of making medicines were almost entirely based on the Four Humors Theory, which dated back to ancient texts. What little had changed had been solidified into orthodoxy over years of interpretation, leaving little room for innovation.
Bringing that up to two teachers who'd just ridden over from the Medical School would be pure foolishness—and might even get his license revoked.
Its open-mindedness lay in the countless "folk remedies," "family recipes," and "missionary