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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Star Surgeon, by Alan Nourse
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Star Surgeon
+
+Author: Alan Nourse
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2006 [EBook #18492]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAR SURGEON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Annika Feilbach and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+STAR SURGEON
+
+by
+
+ALAN E. NOURSE
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
+that the copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+DAVID McKAY COMPANY, INC.
+
+NEW YORK
+
+
+COPYRIGHT © 1959, 1960 BY ALAN E. NOURSE
+
+_All rights reserved_
+
+LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NO. 60-7199
+
+
+Manufactured in the United States of America
+
+VAN REES PRESS · NEW YORK
+
+
+
+_Typography by Charles M. Todd_
+
+Sixth Printing, April 1973
+
+
+
+Part of this book was published in _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ 1 The Intruder                                       3
+ 2 Hospital Seattle                                  15
+ 3 The Inquisition                                   25
+ 4 The Galactic Pill Peddlers                        37
+ 5 Crisis on Morua VIII                              54
+ 6 Tiger Makes a Promise                             66
+ 7 Alarums and Excursions                            78
+ 8 Plague!                                           98
+ 9 The Incredible People                            107
+10 The Boomerang Clue                               121
+11 Dal Breaks a Promise                             136
+12 The Showdown                                     151
+13 The Trial                                        165
+14 Star Surgeon                                     175
+
+
+
+
+STAR SURGEON
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+THE INTRUDER
+
+
+The shuttle plane from the port of Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle had
+already gone when Dal Timgar arrived at the loading platform, even
+though he had taken great pains to be at least thirty minutes early for
+the boarding.
+
+"You'll just have to wait for the next one," the clerk at the
+dispatcher's desk told him unsympathetically. "There's nothing else you
+can do."
+
+"But I _can't_ wait," Dal said. "I have to be in Hospital Seattle by
+morning." He pulled out the flight schedule and held it under the
+clerk's nose. "Look there! The shuttle wasn't supposed to leave for
+another forty-five minutes!"
+
+The clerk blinked at the schedule, and shrugged. "The seats were full,
+so it left," he said. "Graduation time, you know. Everybody has to be
+somewhere else, right away. The next shuttle goes in three hours."
+
+"But I had a reservation on this one," Dal insisted.
+
+"Don't be silly," the clerk said sharply. "Only graduates can get
+reservations this time of year--" He broke off to stare at Dal Timgar,
+a puzzled frown on his face. "Let me see that reservation."
+
+Dal fumbled in his pants pocket for the yellow reservation slip. He was
+wishing now that he'd kept his mouth shut. He was acutely conscious of
+the clerk's suspicious stare, and suddenly he felt extremely awkward.
+The Earth-cut trousers had never really fit Dal very well; his legs were
+too long and spindly, and his hips too narrow to hold the pants up
+properly. The tailor in the Philadelphia shop had tried three times to
+make a jacket fit across Dal's narrow shoulders, and finally had given
+up in despair. Now, as he handed the reservation slip across the
+counter, Dal saw the clerk staring at the fine gray fur that coated the
+back of his hand and arm. "Here it is," he said angrily. "See for
+yourself."
+
+The clerk looked at the slip and handed it back indifferently. "It's a
+valid reservation, all right, but there won't be another shuttle to
+Hospital Seattle for three hours," he said, "unless you have a priority
+card, of course."
+
+"No, I'm afraid I don't," Dal said. It was a ridiculous suggestion, and
+the clerk knew it. Only physicians in the Black Service of Pathology and
+a few Four-star Surgeons had the power to commandeer public aircraft
+whenever they wished. "Can I get on the next shuttle?"
+
+"You can try," the clerk said, "but you'd better be ready when they
+start loading. You can wait up on the ramp if you want to."
+
+Dal turned and started across the main concourse of the great airport.
+He felt a stir of motion at his side, and looked down at the small pink
+fuzz-ball sitting in the crook of his arm. "Looks like we're out of
+luck, pal," he said gloomily. "If we don't get on the next plane, we'll
+miss the hearing altogether. Not that it's going to do us much good to
+be there anyway."
+
+The little pink fuzz-ball on his arm opened a pair of black shoe-button
+eyes and blinked up at him, and Dal absently stroked the tiny creature
+with a finger. The fuzz-ball quivered happily and clung closer to Dal's
+side as he started up the long ramp to the observation platform.
+Automatic doors swung open as he reached the top, and Dal shivered in
+the damp night air. He could feel the gray fur that coated his back and
+neck rising to protect him from the coldness and dampness that his body
+was never intended by nature to endure.
+
+Below him the bright lights of the landing fields and terminal buildings
+of the port of Philadelphia spread out in panorama, and he thought with
+a sudden pang of the great space-port in his native city, so very
+different from this one and so unthinkably far away. The field below was
+teeming with activity, alive with men and vehicles. Moments before, one
+of Earth's great hospital ships had landed, returning from a cruise deep
+into the heart of the galaxy, bringing in the gravely ill from a dozen
+star systems for care in one of Earth's hospitals. Dal watched as the
+long line of stretchers poured from the ship's hold with white-clad
+orderlies in nervous attendance. Some of the stretchers were encased in
+special atmosphere tanks; a siren wailed across the field as an
+emergency truck raced up with fresh gas bottles for a chlorine-breather
+from the Betelgeuse system, and a derrick crew spent fifteen minutes
+lifting down the special liquid ammonia tank housing a native of
+Aldebaran's massive sixteenth planet.
+
+All about the field were physicians supervising the process of
+disembarcation, resplendent in the colors that signified their medical
+specialties. At the foot of the landing crane a Three-star Internist in
+the green cape of the Medical Service--obviously the commander of the
+ship--was talking with the welcoming dignitaries of Hospital Earth.
+Half a dozen doctors in the Blue Service of Diagnosis were checking new
+lab supplies ready to be loaded aboard. Three young Star Surgeons swung
+by just below Dal with their bright scarlet capes fluttering in the
+breeze, headed for customs and their first Earthside liberty in months.
+Dal watched them go by, and felt the sick, bitter feeling in the pit of
+his stomach that he had felt so often in recent months.
+
+He had dreamed, once, of wearing the scarlet cape of the Red Service of
+Surgery too, with the silver star of the Star Surgeon on his collar.
+That had been a long time ago, over eight Earth years ago; the dream had
+faded slowly, but now the last vestige of hope was almost gone. He
+thought of the long years of intensive training he had just completed in
+the medical school of Hospital Philadelphia, the long nights of studying
+for exams, the long days spent in the laboratories and clinics in order
+to become a physician of Hospital Earth, and a wave of bitterness swept
+through his mind.
+
+_A dream_, he thought hopelessly, _a foolish idea and nothing more. They
+knew before I started that they would never let me finish. They had no
+intention of doing so, it just amused them to watch me beat my head on a
+stone wall for these eight years._ But then he shook his head and felt a
+little ashamed of the thought. It wasn't quite true, and he knew it. He
+had known that it was a gamble from the very first. Black Doctor
+Arnquist had warned him the day he received his notice of admission to
+the medical school. "I can promise you nothing," the old man had said,
+"except a slender chance. There are those who will fight to the very end
+to prevent you from succeeding, and when it's all over, you may not win.
+But if you are willing to take that risk, at least you have a chance."
+
+Dal had accepted the risk with his eyes wide open. He had done the best
+he could do, and now he had lost. True, he had not received the final,
+irrevocable word that he had been expelled from the medical service of
+Hospital Earth, but he was certain now that it was waiting for him when
+he arrived at Hospital Seattle the following morning.
+
+The loading ramp was beginning to fill up, and Dal saw half a dozen of
+his classmates from the medical school burst through the door from the
+station below, shifting their day packs from their shoulders and
+chattering among themselves. Several of them saw him, standing by
+himself against the guard rail. One or two nodded coolly and turned
+away; the others just ignored him. Nobody greeted him, nor even smiled.
+Dal turned away and stared down once again at the busy activity on the
+field below.
+
+"Why so gloomy, friend?" a voice behind him said. "You look as though
+the ship left without you."
+
+Dal looked up at the tall, dark-haired young man, towering at his side,
+and smiled ruefully. "Hello, Tiger! As a matter of fact, it _did_ leave.
+I'm waiting for the next one."
+
+"Where to?" Frank Martin frowned down at Dal. Known as "Tiger" to
+everyone but the professors, the young man's nickname fit him well. He
+was big, even for an Earthman, and his massive shoulders and stubborn
+jaw only served to emphasize his bigness. Like the other recent
+graduates on the platform, he was wearing the colored cuff and collar of
+the probationary physician, in the bright green of the Green Service of
+Medicine. He reached out a huge hand and gently rubbed the pink
+fuzz-ball sitting on Dal's arm. "What's the trouble, Dal? Even Fuzzy
+looks worried. Where's your cuff and collar?"
+
+"I didn't get any cuff and collar," Dal said.
+
+"Didn't you get an assignment?" Tiger stared at him. "Or are you just
+taking a leave first?"
+
+Dal shook his head. "A permanent leave, I guess," he said bitterly.
+"There's not going to be any assignment for me. Let's face it, Tiger.
+I'm washed out."
+
+"Oh, now look here--"
+
+"I mean it. I've been booted, and that's all there is to it."
+
+"But you've been in the top ten in the class right through!" Tiger
+protested. "You know you passed your finals. What is this, anyway?"
+
+Dal reached into his jacket and handed Tiger a blue paper envelope. "I
+should have expected it from the first. They sent me this instead of my
+cuff and collar."
+
+Tiger opened the envelope. "From Doctor Tanner," he grunted. "The Black
+Plague himself. But what is it?"
+
+"Read it," Dal said.
+
+"'You are hereby directed to appear before the medical training council
+in the council chambers in Hospital Seattle at 10:00 A.M., Friday, June
+24, 2375, in order that your application for assignment to a General
+Practice Patrol ship may be reviewed. Insignia will not be worn. Signed,
+Hugo Tanner, Physician, Black Service of Pathology.'" Tiger blinked at
+the notice and handed it back to Dal. "I don't get it," he said finally.
+"You applied, you're as qualified as any of us--"
+
+"Except in one way," Dal said, "and that's the way that counts. They
+don't want me, Tiger. They have never wanted me. They only let me go
+through school because Black Doctor Arnquist made an issue of it, and
+they didn't quite dare to veto him. But they never intended to let me
+finish, not for a minute."
+
+For a moment the two were silent, staring down at the busy landing
+procedures below. A warning light was flickering across the field,
+signaling the landing of an incoming shuttle ship, and the supply cars
+broke from their positions in center of the field and fled like beetles
+for the security of the garages. A loudspeaker blared, announcing the
+incoming craft. Dal Timgar turned, lifting Fuzzy gently from his arm
+into a side jacket pocket and shouldering his day pack. "I guess this is
+my flight, Tiger. I'd better get in line."
+
+Tiger Martin gripped Dal's slender four-fingered hand tightly. "Look,"
+he said intensely, "this is some sort of mistake that the training
+council will straighten out. I'm sure of it. Lots of guys have their
+applications reviewed. It happens all the time, but they still get their
+assignments."
+
+"Do you know of any others in this class? Or the last class?"
+
+"Maybe not," Tiger said. "But if they were washing you out, why would
+the council be reviewing it? Somebody must be fighting for you."
+
+"But Black Doctor Tanner is on the council," Dal said.
+
+"He's not the only one on the council. It's going to work out. You'll
+see."
+
+"I hope so," Dal said without conviction. He started for the loading
+line, then turned. "But where are _you_ going to be? What ship?"
+
+Tiger hesitated. "Not assigned yet. I'm taking a leave. But you'll be
+hearing from me."
+
+The loading call blared from the loudspeaker. The tall Earthman seemed
+about to say something more, but Dal turned away and headed across
+toward the line for the shuttle plane. Ten minutes later, he was aloft
+as the tiny plane speared up through the black night sky and turned its
+needle nose toward the west.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He tried to sleep, but couldn't. The shuttle trip from the Port of
+Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle was almost two hours long because of
+passenger stops at Hospital Cleveland, Eisenhower City, New Chicago, and
+Hospital Billings. In spite of the help of the pneumatic seats and a
+sleep-cap, Dal could not even doze. It was one of the perfect clear
+nights that often occurred in midsummer now that weather control could
+modify Earth's air currents so well; the stars glittered against the
+black velvet backdrop above, and the North American continent was free
+of clouds. Dal stared down at the patchwork of lights that flickered up
+at him from the ground below.
+
+Passing below him were some of the great cities, the hospitals, the
+research and training centers, the residential zones and supply centers
+of Hospital Earth, medical center to the powerful Galactic
+Confederation, physician in charge of the health of a thousand
+intelligent races on a thousand planets of a thousand distant star
+systems. Here, he knew, was the ivory tower of galactic medicine, the
+hub from which the medical care of the confederation arose. From the
+huge hospitals, research centers, and medical schools here, the
+physicians of Hospital Earth went out to all corners of the galaxy. In
+the permanent outpost clinics, in the gigantic hospital ships that
+served great sectors of the galaxy, and in the General Practice Patrol
+ships that roved from star system to star system, they answered the
+calls for medical assistance from a multitude of planets and races,
+wherever and whenever they were needed.
+
+Dal Timgar had been on Hospital Earth for eight years, and still he was
+a stranger here. To him this was an alien planet, different in a
+thousand ways from the world where he was born and grew to manhood. For
+a moment now he thought of his native home, the second planet of a hot
+yellow star which Earthmen called "Garv" because they couldn't pronounce
+its full name in the Garvian tongue. Unthinkably distant, yet only days
+away with the power of the star-drive motors that its people had
+developed thousands of years before, Garv II was a warm planet, teeming
+with activity, the trading center of the galaxy and the governmental
+headquarters of the powerful Galactic Confederation of Worlds. Dal could
+remember the days before he had come to Hospital Earth, and the many
+times he had longed desperately to be home again.
+
+He drew his fuzzy pink friend out of his pocket and rested him on his
+shoulder, felt the tiny silent creature rub happily against his neck. It
+had been his own decision to come here, Dal knew; there was no one else
+to blame. His people were not physicians. Their instincts and interests
+lay in trading and politics, not in the life sciences, and plague after
+plague had swept across his home planet in the centuries before Hospital
+Earth had been admitted as a probationary member of the Galactic
+Confederation.
+
+But as long as Dal could remember, he had wanted to be a doctor. From
+the first time he had seen a General Practice Patrol ship landing in his
+home city to fight the plague that was killing his people by the
+thousands, he had known that this was what he wanted more than anything
+else: to be a physician of Hospital Earth, to join the ranks of the
+doctors who were serving the galaxy.
+
+Many on Earth had tried to stop him from the first. He was a Garvian,
+alien to Earth's climate and Earth's people. The physical differences
+between Earthmen and Garvians were small, but just enough to set him
+apart and make him easily identifiable as an alien. He had one too few
+digits on his hands; his body was small and spindly, weighing a bare
+ninety pounds, and the coating of fine gray fur that covered all but his
+face and palms annoyingly grew longer and thicker as soon as he came to
+the comparatively cold climate of Hospital Earth to live. The bone
+structure of his face gave his cheeks and nose a flattened appearance,
+and his pale gray eyes seemed abnormally large and wistful. And even
+though it had long been known that Earthmen and Garvians were equal in
+range of intelligence, his classmates still assumed just from his
+appearance that he was either unusually clever or unusually stupid.
+
+The gulf that lay between him and the men of Earth went beyond mere
+physical differences, however. Earthmen had differences of skin color,
+facial contour and physical size among them, yet made no sign of
+distinction. Dal's alienness went deeper. His classmates had been civil
+enough, yet with one or two exceptions, they had avoided him carefully.
+Clearly they resented his presence in their lecture rooms and
+laboratories. Clearly they felt that he did not belong there, studying
+medicine.
+
+From the first they had let him know unmistakably that he was unwelcome,
+an intruder in their midst, the first member of an alien race ever to
+try to earn the insignia of a physician of Hospital Earth.
+
+And now, Dal knew he had failed after all. He had been allowed to try
+only because a powerful physician in the Black Service of Pathology had
+befriended him. If it had not been for the friendship and support of
+another Earthman in the class, Tiger Martin, the eight years of study
+would have been unbearably lonely.
+
+But now, he thought, it would have been far easier never to have started
+than to have his goal snatched away at the last minute. The notice of
+the council meeting left no doubt in his mind. He had failed. There
+would be lots of talk, some perfunctory debate for the sake of the
+record, and the medical council would wash their hands of him once and
+for all. The decision, he was certain, was already made. It was just a
+matter of going through the formal motions.
+
+Dal felt the motors change in pitch, and the needle-nosed shuttle plane
+began to dip once more toward the horizon. Ahead he could see the
+sprawling lights of Hospital Seattle, stretching from the Cascade
+Mountains to the sea and beyond, north to Alaska and south toward the
+great California metropolitan centers. Somewhere down there was a
+council room where a dozen of the most powerful physicians on Hospital
+Earth, now sleeping soundly, would be meeting tomorrow for a trial that
+was already over, to pass a judgment that was already decided.
+
+He slipped Fuzzy back into his pocket, shouldered his pack, and waited
+for the ship to come down for its landing. It would be nice, he thought
+wryly, if his reservations for sleeping quarters in the students'
+barracks might at least be honored, but now he wasn't even sure of that.
+
+In the port of Seattle he went through the customary baggage check. He
+saw the clerk frown at his ill-fitting clothes and not-quite-human face,
+and then read his passage permit carefully before brushing him on
+through. Then he joined the crowd of travelers heading for the city
+subways. He didn't hear the loudspeaker blaring until the announcer had
+stumbled over his name half a dozen times.
+
+"_Doctor Dal Timgar, please report to the information booth._"
+
+He hurried back to central information. "You were paging me. What is
+it?"
+
+"Telephone message, sir," the announcer said, his voice surprisingly
+respectful. "A top priority call. Just a minute."
+
+Moments later he had handed Dal the yellow telephone message sheet, and
+Dal was studying the words with a puzzled frown:
+
+      CALL AT MY QUARTERS ON ARRIVAL REGARDLESS OF HOUR STOP
+      URGENT THAT I SEE YOU STOP REPEAT URGENT
+
+The message was signed THORVOLD ARNQUIST, BLACK SERVICE and carried the
+priority seal of the Four-star Pathologist. Dal read it again, shifted
+his pack, and started once more for the subway ramp. He thrust the
+message into his pocket, and his step quickened as he heard the whistle
+of the pressure-tube trains up ahead.
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist, the man who had first defended his right to study
+medicine on Hospital Earth, now wanted to see him before the council
+meeting took place.
+
+For the first time in days, Dal Timgar felt a new flicker of hope.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+HOSPITAL SEATTLE
+
+
+It was a long way from the students' barracks to the pathology sector
+where Black Doctor Arnquist lived. Dal Timgar decided not to try to go
+to the barracks first. It was after midnight, and even though the
+message had said "regardless of hour," Dal shrank from the thought of
+awakening a physician of the Black Service at two o'clock in the
+morning. He was already later arriving at Hospital Seattle than he had
+expected to be, and quite possibly Black Doctor Arnquist would be
+retiring. It seemed better to go there without delay.
+
+But one thing took priority. He found a quiet spot in the waiting room
+near the subway entrance and dug into his day pack for the pressed
+biscuit and the canister of water he had there. He broke off a piece of
+the biscuit and held it up for Fuzzy to see.
+
+Fuzzy wriggled down onto his hand, and a tiny mouth appeared just below
+the shoe-button eyes. Bit by bit Dal fed his friend the biscuit, with
+squirts of water in between bites. Finally, when the biscuit was gone,
+Dal squirted the rest of the water into Fuzzy's mouth and rubbed him
+between the eyes. "Feel better now?" he asked.
+
+The creature seemed to understand; he wriggled in Dal's hand and blinked
+his eyes sleepily. "All right, then," Dal said. "Off to sleep."
+
+Dal started to tuck him back into his jacket pocket, but Fuzzy abruptly
+sprouted a pair of forelegs and began struggling fiercely to get out
+again. Dal grinned and replaced the little creature in the crook of his
+arm. "Don't like that idea so well, eh? Okay, friend. If you want to
+watch, that suits me."
+
+He found a map of the city at the subway entrance, and studied it
+carefully. Like other hospital cities on Earth, Seattle was primarily a
+center for patient care and treatment rather than a supply or
+administrative center. Here in Seattle special facilities existed for
+the care of the intelligent marine races that required specialized
+hospital care. The depths of Puget Sound served as a vast aquatic ward
+system where creatures which normally lived in salt-water oceans on
+their native planets could be cared for, and the specialty physicians
+who worked with marine races had facilities here for research and
+teaching in their specialty. The dry-land sectors of the hospital were
+organized to support the aquatic wards; the surgeries, the laboratories,
+the pharmacies and living quarters all were arranged on the periphery of
+the salt-water basin, and rapid-transit tubes carried medical workers,
+orderlies, nurses and physicians to the widespread areas of the hospital
+city.
+
+The pathology sector lay to the north of the city, and Black Doctor
+Arnquist was the chief pathologist of Hospital Seattle. Dal found a
+northbound express tube, climbed into an empty capsule, and pressed the
+buttons for the pathology sector. Presently the capsule was shifted
+automatically into the pressure tube that would carry him thirty miles
+north to his destination.
+
+It was the first time Dal had ever visited a Black Doctor in his
+quarters, and the idea made him a little nervous. Of all the medical
+services on Hospital Earth, none had the power of the Black Service of
+Pathology. Traditionally in Earth medicine, the pathologists had always
+occupied a position of power and discipline. The autopsy rooms had
+always been the "Temples of Truth" where the final, inarguable answers
+in medicine were ultimately found, and for centuries pathologists had
+been the judges and inspectors of the profession of medicine.
+
+And when Earth had become Hospital Earth, with status as a probationary
+member of the Galactic Confederation of Worlds, it was natural that the
+Black Service of Pathology had become the governors and policy-makers,
+regimenting every aspect of the medical services provided by Earth
+physicians.
+
+Dal knew that the medical training council, which would be reviewing his
+application in just a few hours, was made up of physicians from all the
+services--the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of Diagnosis,
+the Red Service of Surgery, as well as the Auxiliary Services--but the
+Black Doctors who sat on the council would have the final say, the final
+veto power.
+
+He wondered now why Black Doctor Arnquist wanted to see him. At first he
+had thought there might be special news for him, word perhaps that his
+assignment had come through after all, that the interview tomorrow would
+not be held. But on reflection, he realized that didn't make sense. If
+that were the case, Doctor Arnquist would have said so, and directed him
+to report to a ship. More likely, he thought, the Black Doctor wanted
+to see him only to soften the blow, to help him face the decision that
+seemed inevitable.
+
+He left the pneumatic tube and climbed on the jitney that wound its way
+through the corridors of the pathology sector and into the quiet,
+austere quarters of the resident pathologists. He found the proper
+concourse, and moments later he was pressing his thumb against the
+identification plate outside the Black Doctor's personal quarters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist looked older now than when Dal had last
+seen him. His silvery gray hair was thinning, and there were tired lines
+around his eyes and mouth that Dal did not remember from before. The old
+man's body seemed more wispy and frail than ever, and the black cloak
+across his shoulders rustled as he led Dal back into a book-lined study.
+
+The Black Doctor had not yet gone to bed. On a desk in the corner of the
+study several books lay open, and a roll of paper was inserted in the
+dicto-typer. "I knew you would get the message when you arrived," he
+said as he took Dal's pack, "and I thought you might be later than you
+planned. A good trip, I trust. And your friend here? He enjoys shuttle
+travel?" He smiled and stroked Fuzzy with a gnarled finger. "I suppose
+you wonder why I wanted to see you."
+
+Dal Timgar nodded slowly. "About the interview tomorrow?"
+
+"Ah, yes. The interview." The Black Doctor made a sour face and shook
+his head. "A bad business for you, that interview. How do you feel about
+it?"
+
+Dal spread his hands helplessly. As always, the Black Doctor's questions
+cut through the trimming to the heart of things. They were always
+difficult questions to answer.
+
+"I ... I suppose it's something that's necessary," he said finally.
+
+"Oh?" the Black Doctor frowned. "But why necessary for you if not for
+the others? How many were there in your class, including all the
+services? Three hundred? And out of the three hundred only one was
+refused assignment." He looked up sharply at Dal, his pale blue eyes
+very alert in his aged face. "Right?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you really feel it's just normal procedure that your application is
+being challenged?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How _do_ you feel about it, Dal? Angry, maybe?"
+
+Dal squirmed. "Yes, sir. You might say that."
+
+"Perhaps even bitter," the Black Doctor said.
+
+"I did as good work as anyone else in my class," Dal said hotly. "I did
+my part as well as anyone could, I didn't let up once all the way
+through. Bitter! Wouldn't you feel bitter?"
+
+The Black Doctor nodded slowly. "Yes, I imagine I would," he said,
+sinking down into the chair behind the desk with a sigh. "As a matter of
+fact, I do feel a little bitter about it, even though I was afraid that
+it might come to this in the end. I can't blame you for your feelings."
+He took a deep breath. "I wish I could promise you that everything would
+be all right tomorrow, but I'm afraid I can't. The council has a right
+to review your qualifications, and it holds the power to assign you to a
+patrol ship on the spot, if it sees fit. Conceivably, a Black Doctor
+might force the council's approval, if he were the only representative
+of the Black service there. But I will not be the only Black Doctor
+sitting on the council tomorrow."
+
+"I know that," Dal said.
+
+Doctor Arnquist looked up at Dal for a long moment. "Why do you want to
+be a doctor in the first place, Dal? This isn't the calling of your
+people. You must be the one Garvian out of millions with the patience
+and peculiar mental make-up to permit you to master the scientific
+disciplines involved in studying medicine. Either you are different from
+the rest of your people--which I doubt--or else you are driven to force
+yourself into a pattern foreign to your nature for very compelling
+reasons. What are they? Why do you want medicine?"
+
+It was the hardest question of all, the question Dal had dreaded. He
+knew the answer, just as he had known for most of his life that he
+wanted to be a doctor above all else. But he had never found a way to
+put the reasons into words. "I can't say," he said slowly. "I _know_,
+but I can't express it, and whenever I try, it just sounds silly."
+
+"Maybe your reasons don't make reasonable sense," the old man said
+gently.
+
+"But they do! At least to me, they do," Dal said. "I've always wanted to
+be a doctor. There's nothing else I want to do. To work at home, among
+my people."
+
+"There was a plague on Garv II, wasn't there?" Doctor Arnquist said. "A
+cyclic thing that came back again and again. The cycle was broken just a
+few years ago, when the virus that caused it was finally isolated and
+destroyed."
+
+"By the physicians of Hospital Earth," Dal said.
+
+"It's happened again and again," the Black Doctor said. "We've seen the
+same pattern repeated a thousand times across the galaxy, and it has
+always puzzled us, just a little." He smiled. "You see, our knowledge
+and understanding of the life sciences here on Earth have always grown
+hand in hand with the physical sciences. We had always assumed that the
+same thing would happen on _any_ planet where a race has developed
+intelligence and scientific methods of study. We were wrong, of course,
+which is the reason for the existence of Hospital Earth and her
+physicians today, but it still amazes us that with all the technology
+and civilization in the galaxy, we Earthmen are the only people yet
+discovered who have developed a broad knowledge of the processes of life
+and illness and death."
+
+The old man looked up at his visitor, and Dal felt his pale blue eyes
+searching his face. "How badly do you want to be a doctor, Dal?"
+
+"More than anything else I know," Dal said.
+
+"Badly enough to do anything to achieve your goal?"
+
+Dal hesitated, and stroked Fuzzy's head gently. "Well ... almost
+anything."
+
+The Black Doctor nodded. "And that, of course, is the reason I had to
+see you before this interview, my friend. I know you've played the game
+straight right from the beginning, up to this point. Now I beg of you
+not to do the thing that you are thinking of doing."
+
+For a moment Dal just stared at the little old man in black, and felt
+the fur on his arms and back rise up. A wave of panic flooded his mind.
+_He knows!_ he thought frantically. _He must be able to read minds!_ But
+he thrust the idea away. There was no way that the Black Doctor could
+know. No race of creatures in the galaxy had _that_ power. And yet there
+was no doubt that Black Doctor Arnquist knew what Dal had been thinking,
+just as surely as if he had said it aloud.
+
+Dal shook his head helplessly. "I ... I don't know what you mean."
+
+"I think you do," Doctor Arnquist said. "Please, Dal. Trust me. This is
+not the time to lie. The thing that you were planning to do at the
+interview would be disastrous, even if it won you an assignment. It
+would be dishonest and unworthy."
+
+_Then he does know!_ Dal thought. _But how? I couldn't have told him, or
+given him any hint._ He felt Fuzzy give a frightened shiver on his arm,
+and then words were tumbling out of his mouth. "I don't know what you're
+talking about, there wasn't anything I was thinking of. I mean, what
+could I do? If the council wants to assign me to a ship, they will, and
+if they don't, they won't. I don't know what you're thinking of."
+
+"Please." Black Doctor Arnquist held up his hand. "Naturally you defend
+yourself," he said. "I can't blame you for that, and I suppose this is
+an unforgivable breach of diplomacy even to mention it to you, but I
+think it must be done. Remember that we have been studying and observing
+your people very carefully over the past two hundred years, Dal. It is
+no accident that you have such a warm attachment to your little pink
+friend here, and it is no accident that wherever a Garvian is found, his
+Fuzzy is with him, isn't that so? And it is no accident that your people
+are such excellent tradesmen, that you are so remarkably skillful in
+driving bargains favorable to yourselves ... that you are in fact the
+most powerful single race of creatures in the whole Galactic
+Confederation."
+
+The old man walked to the bookshelves behind him and brought down a
+thick, bound manuscript. He handed it across the desk as Dal watched
+him. "You may read this if you like, at your leisure. Don't worry, it's
+not for publication, just a private study which I have never mentioned
+before to anyone, but the pattern is unmistakable. This peculiar talent
+of your people is difficult to describe: not really telepathy, but an
+ability to create the emotional responses in others that will be most
+favorable to you. Just what part your Fuzzies play in this ability of
+your people I am not sure, but I'm quite certain that without them you
+would not have it."
+
+He smiled at Dal's stricken face. "A forbidden topic, eh? And yet
+perfectly true. You know right now that if you wanted to you could
+virtually paralyze me with fright, render me helpless to do anything but
+stand here and shiver, couldn't you? Or if I were hostile to your
+wishes, you could suddenly force me to sympathize with you and like you
+enormously, until I was ready to agree to anything you wanted--"
+
+"No," Dal broke in. "Please, you don't understand! I've never done it,
+not once since I came to Hospital Earth."
+
+"I know that. I've been watching you."
+
+"And I wouldn't think of doing it."
+
+"Not even at the council interview?"
+
+"Never!"
+
+"Then let me have Fuzzy now. He is the key to this special talent of
+your people. Give him to me now, and go to the interview without him."
+
+Dal drew back, trembling, trying to fight down panic. He brought his
+hand around to the soft fur of the little pink fuzz-ball. "I ... can't
+do that," he said weakly.
+
+"Not even if it meant your assignment to a patrol ship?"
+
+Dal hesitated, then shook his head. "Not even then. But I won't do what
+you're saying, I promise you."
+
+For a long moment Black Doctor Arnquist stared at him. Then he smiled.
+"Will you give me your word?
+
+"Yes, I promise."
+
+"Then I wish you good luck. I will do what I can at the interview. But
+now there is a bed for you here. You will need sleep if you are to
+present your best appearance."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+THE INQUISITION
+
+
+The interview was held in the main council chambers of Hospital Seattle,
+and Dal could feel the tension the moment he stepped into the room. He
+looked at the long semicircular table, and studied the impassive faces
+of the four-star Physicians across the table from him.
+
+Each of the major medical services was represented this morning. In the
+center, presiding over the council, was a physician of the White
+Service, a Four-star Radiologist whose insignia gleamed on his
+shoulders. There were two physicians each, representing the Red Service
+of Surgery, the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of
+Diagnosis, and finally, seated at either end of the table, the
+representatives of the Black Service of Pathology. Black Doctor Thorvold
+Arnquist sat to Dal's left; he smiled faintly as the young Garvian
+stepped forward, then busied himself among the papers on the desk before
+him. To Dal's right sat another Black Doctor who was not smiling.
+
+Dal had seen him before--the chief co-ordinator of medical education on
+Hospital Earth, the "Black Plague" of the medical school jokes. Black
+Doctor Hugo Tanner was large and florid of face, blinking owlishly at
+Dal over his heavy horn-rimmed glasses. The glasses were purely
+decorative; with modern eye-cultures and transplant techniques, no
+Earthman had really needed glasses to correct his vision for the past
+two hundred years, but on Hugo Tanner's angry face they added a look of
+gravity and solemnity that the Black Doctor could not achieve without
+them. Still glaring at Dal, Doctor Tanner leaned over to speak to the
+Blue Doctor on his right, and they nodded and laughed unpleasantly at
+some private joke.
+
+There was no place for him to sit, so Dal stood before the table, as
+straight as his five-foot height would allow him. He had placed Fuzzy
+almost defiantly on his shoulder, and from time to time he could feel
+the little creature quiver and huddle against his neck as though to hide
+from sight under his collar.
+
+The White Doctor opened the proceedings, and at first the questions were
+entirely medical. "We are meeting to consider this student's application
+for assignment to a General Practice Patrol ship, as a probationary
+physician in the Red Service of Surgery. I believe you are all
+acquainted with his educational qualifications?"
+
+There was an impatient murmur around the table. The White Doctor looked
+up at Dal. "Your name, please?"
+
+"Dal Timgar, sir."
+
+"Your _full_ name," Black Doctor Tanner rumbled from the right-hand end
+of the table.
+
+Dal took a deep breath and began to give his full Garvian name. It was
+untranslatable and unpronounceable to Earthmen, who could not reproduce
+the sequence of pops and whistles that made up the Garvian tongue. The
+doctors listened, blinking, as the complex family structure and
+ancestry which entered into every Garvian's full name continued to roll
+from Dal's lips. He was entering into the third generation removed of
+his father's lineage when Doctor Tanner held up his hand.
+
+"All right, all right! We will accept the abbreviated name you have used
+on Hospital Earth. Let it be clear on the record that the applicant is a
+native of the second planet of the Garv system." The Black Doctor
+settled back in his chair and began whispering again to the Blue Doctor
+next to him.
+
+A Green Doctor cleared his throat. "Doctor Timgar, what do you consider
+to be the basic principle that underlies the work and services of
+physicians of Hospital Earth?"
+
+It was an old question, a favorite on freshman medical school
+examinations. "The principle that environments and life forms in the
+universe may be dissimilar, but that biochemical reactions are universal
+throughout creation," Dal said slowly.
+
+"Well memorized," Black Doctor Tanner said sourly. "What does it mean?"
+
+"It means that the principles of chemistry, physiology, pathology and
+the other life sciences, once understood, can be applied to any living
+creature in the universe, and will be found valid," Dal said. "As
+different as the various life forms may be, the basic life processes in
+one life form are the same, under different conditions, as the life
+processes in any other life form, just as hydrogen and oxygen will
+combine to form water anywhere in the universe where the proper physical
+conditions prevail."
+
+"Very good, very good," the Green Doctor said. "But tell me this: what
+in your opinion is the place of surgery in a Galactic practice of
+medicine?"
+
+A more difficult question, but one that Dal's training had prepared him
+well to answer. He answered it, and faced another question, and another.
+One by one, the doctors interrogated him, Black Doctor Arnquist among
+them. The questions came faster and faster; some were exceedingly
+difficult. Once or twice Dal was stopped cold, and forced to admit that
+he did not know the answer. Other questions which he knew would stop
+other students happened to fall in fields he understood better than
+most, and his answers were full and succinct.
+
+But finally the questioning tapered off, and the White Doctor shuffled
+his papers impatiently. "If there are no further medical questions, we
+can move on to another aspect of this student's application. Certain
+questions of policy have been raised. Black Doctor Tanner had some
+things to say, I believe, as co-ordinator of medical education."
+
+The Black Doctor rose ponderously to his feet. "I have some things to
+say, you can be sure of that," he said, "but they have nothing to do
+with this Dal Timgar's educational qualifications for assignment to a
+General Practice Patrol ship." Black Doctor Tanner paused to glare in
+Dal's direction. "He has been trained in a medical school on Hospital
+Earth, and apparently has passed his final qualifying examinations for
+the Red Service of Surgery. I can't argue about that."
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist's voice came across the room. "Then why are we
+having his review, Hugo? Dal Timgar's classmates all received their
+assignments automatically."
+
+"Because there are other things to consider here than educational
+qualifications," Hugo Tanner said. "Gentlemen, consider our position for
+a moment. We have thousands of probationary physicians abroad in the
+galaxy at the present time, fine young men and women who have been
+trained in medical schools on Hospital Earth, and now are gaining
+experience and judgment while fulfilling our medical service contracts
+in every part of the confederation. They are probationers, but we must
+not forget that we physicians of Hospital Earth are also probationers.
+We are seeking a permanent place in this great Galactic Confederation,
+which was in existence many thousands of years before we even knew of
+its existence. It was not until our own scientists discovered the Koenig
+star-drive, enabling us to break free of our own solar system, that we
+were met face to face with a confederation of intelligent races
+inhabiting the galaxy--among others, the people from whom this same Dal
+Timgar has come."
+
+"The history is interesting," Black Doctor Arnquist broke in, "but
+really, Hugo, I think most of us know it already."
+
+"Maybe we do," Doctor Tanner said, flushing a little. "But the history
+is significant. Permanent membership in the confederation is contingent
+on two qualifications. First, we must have developed a star-drive of our
+own, a qualification of intelligence, if you will. The confederation has
+ruled that only races having a certain level of intelligence can become
+members. A star-drive could only be developed with a far-reaching
+understanding of the physical sciences, so this is a valid criterion of
+intelligence. But the second qualification for confederation membership
+is nothing more nor less than a question of usefulness."
+
+The presiding White Doctor looked up, frowning. "Usefulness?"
+
+"Exactly. The Galactic Confederation, with its exchange of ideas and
+talents, and all the wealth of civilization it has to offer, is based on
+a division of labor. Every member must have something to contribute,
+some special talent. For Earthmen, the talent was obvious very early.
+Our technology was primitive, our manufacturing skills mediocre, our
+transport and communications systems impossible. But in our
+understanding of the life sciences, we have far outstripped any other
+race in the galaxy. We had already solved the major problems of disease
+and longevity among our own people, while some of the most advanced
+races in the confederation were being reduced to helplessness by cyclic
+plagues which slaughtered their populations, and were caused by nothing
+more complex than a simple parasitic virus. Garv II is an excellent
+example."
+
+One of the Red Doctors cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I don't quite see
+the connection. Nobody is arguing about our skill as doctors."
+
+"Of course not," Black Doctor Tanner said. "The point is that in all the
+galaxy, Earthmen are by their very nature the _best_ doctors,
+outstripping the most advanced physicians on any other planet. And this,
+gentlemen, is our bargaining point. We are useful to the Galactic
+Confederation only as physicians. The confederation needed us badly
+enough to admit us to probational membership, but if we ever hope to
+become full members of the confederation, we must demonstrate our
+usefulness, our unique skill, as physicians. We have worked hard to
+prove ourselves. We have made Hospital Earth the galactic center of
+study and treatment of diseases of many races. Earthmen on the General
+Practice Patrol ships visit planets in the remotest sections, and their
+reputation as physicians has grown. Every year new planets are writing
+full medical service contracts with us ... as Earthmen serving the
+galaxy--"
+
+"As _physicians_ serving the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist's voice shot
+across the room.
+
+"As far as the confederation has been concerned, the two have been
+synonymous," Hugo Tanner roared. "_Until now._ But now we have an alien
+among us. We have allowed a non-Earthman to train in our medical
+schools. He has completed the required work, his qualifications are
+acceptable, and now he proposes to go out on a patrol ship as a
+physician of the Red Service of Surgery. But think of what you are doing
+if you permit him to go! You will be proving to every planet in the
+confederation that they don't really need Earthmen after all, that any
+race from any planet might produce physicians just as capable as
+Earthmen."
+
+The Black Doctor turned slowly to face Dal, his mouth set in a grim
+line. As he talked, his face had grown dark with anger. "Understand that
+I have nothing against this creature as an individual. Perhaps he would
+prove to be a competent physician, although I cannot believe it. Perhaps
+he would carry on the traditions of medical service we have worked so
+long to establish, although I doubt it. But I do know that if we permit
+him to become a qualified physician, it will be the beginning of the end
+for Hospital Earth. We will be selling out our sole bargaining position.
+We can forget our hopes for membership in the confederation, because one
+like him this year will mean two next year, and ten the next, and there
+will be no end to it. We should have stopped it eight years ago, but
+certain ones prevailed to admit Dal Timgar to training. If we do not
+stop it now, for all time, we will never be able to stop it."
+
+Slowly the Black Doctor sat down, motioning to an orderly at the rear of
+the room. The orderly brought a glass of water and a small capsule which
+Black Doctor Tanner gulped down. The other doctors were talking heatedly
+among themselves as Black Doctor Arnquist rose to his feet. "Then you
+are claiming that our highest calling is to keep medicine in the hands
+of Earthmen alone?" he asked softly.
+
+Doctor Tanner flushed. "Our highest calling is to provide good medical
+care for our patients," he said.
+
+"The best possible medical care?"
+
+"I never said otherwise."
+
+"And yet you deny the ancient tradition that a physician's duty is to
+help his patients help themselves," Black Doctor Arnquist said.
+
+"I said no such thing!" Hugo Tanner cried, jumping to his feet. "But we
+must protect ourselves. We have no other power, nothing else to sell."
+
+"And I say that if we must sell our medical skill for our own benefit
+first, then we are not worthy to be physicians to anyone," Doctor
+Arnquist snapped. "You make a very convincing case, but if we examine it
+closely, we see that it amounts to nothing but fear and selfishness."
+
+"Fear?" Doctor Tanner cried. "What do we have to fear if we can maintain
+our position? But if we must yield to a Garvian who has no business in
+medicine in the first place, what can we have left but fear?"
+
+"If I were really convinced that Earthmen were the best physicians in
+the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist replied, "I don't think I'd have to
+be afraid."
+
+The Black Doctor at the end of the table stood up, shaking with rage.
+"Listen to him!" he cried to the others. "Once again he is defending
+this creature and turning his back on common sense. All I ask is that we
+keep our skills among our own people and avoid the contamination that
+will surely result--"
+
+Doctor Tanner broke off, his face suddenly white. He coughed, clutching
+at his chest, and sank down groping for his medicine box and the water
+glass. After a moment he caught his breath and shook his head. "There's
+nothing more I can say," he said weakly. "I have done what I could, and
+the decision is up to the rest of you." He coughed again, and slowly the
+color came back into his face. The Blue Doctor had risen to help him,
+but Tanner waved him aside. "No, no, it's nothing. I allowed myself to
+become angry."
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist spread his hands. "Under the circumstances, I
+won't belabor the point," he said, "although I think it would be good if
+Doctor Tanner would pause in his activities long enough for the surgery
+that would make his anger less dangerous to his own life. But he
+represents a view, and his right to state it is beyond reproach." Doctor
+Arnquist looked from face to face along the council table. "The decision
+is yours, gentlemen, I would ask only that you consider what our highest
+calling as physicians really is--a duty that overrides fear and
+selfishness. I believe Dal Timgar would be a good physician, and that
+this is more important than the planet of his origin. I think he would
+uphold the honor of Hospital Earth wherever he went, and give us his
+loyalty as well as his service. I will vote to accept his application,
+and thus cancel out my colleague's negative vote. The deciding votes
+will be cast by the rest of you."
+
+He sat down, and the White Doctor looked at Dal Timgar. "It would be
+good if you would wait outside," he said. "We will call you as soon as a
+decision is reached."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dal waited in an anteroom, feeding Fuzzy and trying to put out of his
+mind for a moment the heated argument still raging in the council
+chamber. Fuzzy was quivering with fright; unable to speak, the tiny
+creature nevertheless clearly experienced emotions, even though Dal
+himself did not know how he received impressions, nor why.
+
+But Dal knew that there was a connection between the tiny pink
+creature's emotions and the peculiar talent that Black Doctor Arnquist
+had spoken of the night before. It was not a telepathic power that Dal
+and his people possessed. Just _what_ it was, was difficult to define,
+yet Dal knew that every Garvian depended upon it to some extent in
+dealing with people around him. He knew that when Fuzzy was sitting on
+his arm he could sense the emotions of those around him--the anger, the
+fear, the happiness, the suspicion--and he knew that under certain
+circumstances, in a way he did not clearly understand, he could wilfully
+change the feelings of others toward himself. Not a great deal, perhaps,
+nor in any specific way, but just enough to make them look upon him and
+his wishes more favorably than they otherwise might.
+
+Throughout his years on Hospital Earth he had vigilantly avoided using
+this strange talent. Already he was different enough from Earthmen in
+appearance, in ways of thinking, in likes and dislikes. But these
+differences were not advantages, and he had realized that if his
+classmates had ever dreamed of the advantage that he had, minor as it
+was, his hopes of becoming a physician would have been destroyed
+completely.
+
+And in the council room he had kept his word to Doctor Arnquist. He had
+felt Fuzzy quivering on his shoulder; he had sensed the bitter anger in
+Black Doctor Tanner's mind, and the temptation deliberately to mellow
+that anger had been almost overwhelming, but he had turned it aside. He
+had answered questions that were asked him, and listened to the debate
+with a growing sense of hopelessness.
+
+And now the chance was gone. The decision was being made.
+
+He paced the floor, trying to remember the expressions of the other
+doctors, trying to remember what had been said, how many had seemed
+friendly and how many hostile, but he knew that only intensified the
+torture. There was nothing he could do now but wait.
+
+At last the door opened, and an orderly nodded to him. Dal felt his legs
+tremble as he walked into the room and faced the semi-circle of doctors.
+He tried to read the answer on their faces, but even Black Doctor
+Arnquist sat impassively, doodling on the pad before him, refusing to
+meet Dal's eyes.
+
+The White Doctor took up a sheet of paper. "We have considered your
+application, and have reached a decision. You will be happy to know that
+your application for assignment has been tentatively accepted."
+
+Dal heard the words, and it seemed as though the room were spinning
+around him. He wanted to shout for joy and throw his arms around Black
+Doctor Arnquist, but he stood perfectly still, and suddenly he noticed
+that Fuzzy was very quiet on his shoulder.
+
+"You will understand that this acceptance is not irrevocable," the White
+Doctor went on. "We are not willing to guarantee your ultimate
+acceptance as a fully qualified Star Surgeon at this point. You will be
+allowed to wear a collar and cuff, uniform and insignia of a
+probationary physician, in the Red Service, and will be assigned aboard
+the General Practice Patrol ship _Lancet_, leaving from Hospital Seattle
+next Tuesday. If you prove your ability in that post, your performance
+will once again be reviewed by this board, but you alone will determine
+our decision then. Your final acceptance as a Star Surgeon will depend
+entirely upon your conduct as a member of the patrol ship's crew." He
+smiled at Dal, and set the paper down. "The council wishes you well. Do
+you have any questions?"
+
+"Just one," Dal managed to say. "Who will my crewmates be?"
+
+"As is customary, a probationer from the Green Service of Medicine and
+one from the Blue Service of Diagnosis. Both have been specially
+selected by this council. Your Blue Doctor will be Jack Alvarez, who has
+shown great promise in his training in diagnostic medicine."
+
+"And the Green Doctor?"
+
+"A young man named Frank Martin," the White Doctor said. "Known to his
+friends, I believe, as 'Tiger.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+THE GALACTIC PILL PEDDLERS
+
+
+The ship stood tall and straight on her launching pad, with the
+afternoon sunlight glinting on her hull. Half a dozen crews of check-out
+men were swarming about her, inspecting her engine and fuel supplies,
+riding up the gantry crane to her entrance lock, and guiding the great
+cargo nets from the loading crane into her afterhold. High up on her
+hull Dal Timgar could see a golden caduceus emblazoned, the symbol of
+the General Practice Patrol, and beneath it the ship's official name:
+
+      GPPS 238
+      _LANCET_
+
+Dal shifted his day pack down from his shoulders, ridiculously pleased
+with the gleaming scarlet braid on the collar and cuff of his uniform,
+and lifted Fuzzy up on his shoulder to see. It seemed to Dal that
+everyone he had passed in the terminal had been looking at the colorful
+insignia; it was all he could do to keep from holding his arm up and
+waving it like a banner.
+
+"You'll get used to it," Tiger Martin chuckled as they waited for the
+jitney to take them across to the launching pad. "At first you think
+everybody is impressed by the colors, until you see some guy go past
+with the braid all faded and frazzled at the edges, and then you realize
+that you're just the latest greenhorn in a squad of two hundred thousand
+men."
+
+"It's still good to be wearing it," Dal said. "I couldn't really believe
+it until Black Doctor Arnquist turned the collar and cuff over to me."
+He looked suspiciously at Tiger. "You must have known a lot more about
+that interview than you let on. Or, was it just coincidence that we were
+assigned together?"
+
+"Not coincidence, exactly." Tiger grinned. "I didn't know what was going
+to happen. I'd requested assignment with you on my application, and then
+when yours was held up, Doctor Arnquist asked me if I'd be willing to
+wait for assignment until the interview was over. So I said okay. He
+seemed to think you had a pretty good chance."
+
+"I'd never have made it without his backing," Dal said.
+
+"Well, anyway, he figured that if you _were_ assigned, it would be a
+good idea to have a friend on the patrol ship team."
+
+"I won't argue about _that_," Dal said. "But who is the Blue Service
+man?"
+
+Tiger's face darkened. "I don't know much about him," he said. "He
+trained in California, and I met him just once, at a diagnosis and
+therapy conference. He's supposed to be plenty smart, according to the
+grapevine. I guess he'd have to be, to pass Diagnostic Service finals."
+Tiger chuckled. "Any dope can make it in the Medical or Surgical
+Services, but diagnosis is something else again."
+
+"Will he be in command?"
+
+"On the _Lancet_? Why should he? We'll share command, just like any
+patrol ship crew. If we run into problems we can't agree on, we holler
+for help. But if he acts like most of the Blue Doctors I know, he'll
+_think_ he's in command."
+
+A jitney stopped for them, and then zoomed out across the field toward
+the ship. The gantry platform was just clanging to the ground, unloading
+three technicians and a Four-bar Electronics Engineer. Tiger and Dal
+rode the platform up again and moments later stepped through the
+entrance lock of the ship that would be their home base for months and
+perhaps years.
+
+They found the bunk room to the rear of the control and lab sections. A
+duffel bag was already lodged on one of the bunks; one of the foot
+lockers was already occupied, and a small but expensive camera and a
+huge pair of field glasses were hanging from one of the wall brackets.
+
+"Looks like our man has already arrived," Tiger said, tossing down his
+own duffel bag and looking around the cramped quarters. "Not exactly a
+luxury suite, I'd say. Wonder where he is?"
+
+"Let's look up forward," Dal said. "We've plenty to do before we take
+off. Maybe he's just getting an early start."
+
+They explored the ship, working their way up the central corridor past
+the communications and computer rooms and the laboratory into the main
+control and observation room. Here they found a thin, dark-haired young
+man in a bright blue collar and cuff, sitting engrossed with a
+tape-reader.
+
+For a moment they thought he hadn't heard them. Then, as though
+reluctant to tear himself away, the Blue Doctor sighed, snapped off the
+reader, and turned on the swivel stool.
+
+"So!" he said. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get
+here."
+
+"We ran into some delays," Tiger said. He grinned and held out his hand.
+"Jack Alvarez? Tiger Martin. We met each other at that conference in
+Chicago last year."
+
+"Yes, I remember," the Blue Doctor said. "You found some holes in a
+paper I gave. Matter of fact, I've plugged them up very nicely since
+then. You'd have trouble finding fault with the work now." Jack Alvarez
+turned his eyes to Dal. "And I suppose this is the Garvian I've been
+hearing about, complete with his little pink stooge."
+
+The moment they had walked in the door, Dal had felt Fuzzy crouch down
+tight against his shoulder. Now a wave of hostility struck his mind like
+a shower of ice water. He had never seen this thin, dark-haired youth
+before, or even heard of him, but he recognized this sharp impression of
+hatred and anger unmistakably. He had felt it a thousand times among his
+medical school classmates during the past eight years, and just hours
+before he had felt it in the council room when Black Doctor Tanner had
+turned on him.
+
+"It's really a lucky break that we have Dal for a Red Doctor," Tiger
+said. "We almost didn't get him."
+
+"Yes, I heard all about how lucky we are," Jack Alvarez said sourly. He
+looked Dal over from the gray fur on the top of his head to the spindly
+legs in the ill-fitting trousers. Then the Blue Doctor shrugged in
+disgust and turned back to the tape-reader. "A Garvian and his Fuzzy!"
+he muttered. "Let's hope one or the other knows something about
+surgery."
+
+"I think we'll do all right," Dal said slowly.
+
+"I think you'd better," Jack Alvarez replied.
+
+Dal and Tiger looked at each other, and Tiger shrugged. "It's all
+right," he said. "We know our jobs, and we'll manage."
+
+Dal nodded, and started back for the bunk room. No doubt, he thought,
+they would manage.
+
+But if he had thought before that the assignment on the _Lancet_ was
+going to be easy, he knew now that he was wrong.
+
+Tiger Martin may have been Doctor Arnquist's selection as a crewmate for
+him, but there was no question in his mind that the Blue Doctor on the
+_Lancet_'s crew was Black Doctor Hugo Tanner's choice.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The first meeting with Jack Alvarez hardly seemed promising to either
+Dal or Tiger, but if there was trouble coming, it was postponed for the
+moment by common consent. In the few days before blast-off there was no
+time for conflict, or even for much talk. Each of the three crewmen had
+two full weeks of work to accomplish in two days; each knew his job and
+buried himself in it with a will.
+
+The ship's medical and surgical supplies had to be inventoried, and
+missing or required supplies ordered up. New supplies coming in had to
+be checked, tested, and stored in the ship's limited hold space. It was
+like preparing for an extended pack trip into wilderness country; once
+the _Lancet_ left its home base on Hospital Earth it was a world to
+itself, equipped to support its physician-crew and provide the necessary
+equipment and data they would need to deal with the problems they would
+face. Like all patrol ships, the _Lancet_ was equipped with automatic
+launching, navigation and drive mechanisms; no crew other than the
+three doctors was required, and in the event of mechanical failures,
+maintenance ships were on continual call.
+
+The ship was responsible for patrolling an enormous area, including
+hundreds of stars and their planetary systems--yet its territory was
+only a tiny segment of the galaxy. Landings were to be made at various
+specified planets maintaining permanent clinic outposts of Hospital
+Earth; certain staple supplies were carried for each of these check
+points. Aside from these lonely clinic contacts, the nearest port of
+call for the _Lancet_ was one of the hospital ships that continuously
+worked slow orbits through the star systems of the confederation.
+
+But a hospital ship, with its staff of Two-star and Three-star
+Physicians, was not to be called except in cases of extreme need. The
+probationers on the patrol ships were expected to be self-sufficient.
+Their job was to handle diagnosis and care of all but the most difficult
+problems that arose in their travels. They were the first to answer the
+medical calls from any planet with a medical service contract with
+Hospital Earth.
+
+It was an enormous responsibility for doctors-in-training to assume, but
+over the years it had proven the best way to train and weed out new
+doctors for the greater responsibilities of hospital ship and Hospital
+Earth assignments. There was no set period of duty on the patrol ships;
+how long a young doctor remained in the General Practice Patrol depended
+to a large extent upon how well he handled the problems and
+responsibilities that faced him; and since the first years of Hospital
+Earth, the fledgling doctors in the General Practice Patrol--the
+self-styled "Galactic Pill Peddlers"--had lived up to their
+responsibilities. The reputation of Hospital Earth rested on their
+shoulders, and they never forgot it.
+
+As he worked on his inventories, Dal Timgar thought of Doctor Arnquist's
+words to him after the council had handed down its decision. "Remember
+that judgment and skill are two different things," he had said. "Without
+skill in the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment, medical
+judgment isn't much help, but skill without the judgment to know how and
+when to use it can be downright dangerous. You'll be judged both on the
+judgment you use in deciding the right thing to do, and on the skill you
+use in doing it." He had given Dal the box with the coveted collar and
+cuff. "The colors are pretty, but never forget what they stand for.
+Until you can convince the council that you have both the skill and the
+judgment of a good physician, you will never get your Star. And you will
+be watched closely; Black Doctor Tanner and certain others will be
+waiting for the slightest excuse to recall you from the _Lancet_. If you
+give them the opportunity, nothing I can do will stop it."
+
+And now, as they worked to prepare the ship for service, Dal was
+determined that the opportunity would not arise. When he was not working
+in the storerooms, he was in the computer room, reviewing the thousands
+of tapes that carried the basic information about the contract planets
+where they would be visiting, and the races that inhabited them. If
+errors and fumbles and mistakes were made by the crew of the _Lancet_,
+he thought grimly, it would not be Dal Timgar who made them.
+
+The first night they met in the control room to divide the many
+extracurricular jobs involved in maintaining a patrol ship.
+
+Tiger's interest in electronics and communications made him the best man
+to handle the radio; he accepted the post without comment. "Jack, you
+should be in charge of the computer," he said, "because you'll be the
+one who'll need the information first. The lab is probably your field
+too. Dal can be responsible for stores and supplies as well as his own
+surgical instruments."
+
+Jack shrugged. "I'd just as soon handle supplies, too," he said.
+
+"Well, there's no need to overload one man," Tiger said.
+
+"I wouldn't mind that. But when there's something I need, I want to be
+sure it's going to be there without any goof-ups," Jack said.
+
+"I can handle it all right," Dal said.
+
+Jack just scowled. "What about the contact man when we make landings?"
+he asked Tiger.
+
+"Seems to me Dal would be the one for that, too," Tiger said. "His
+people are traders and bargainers; right, Dal? And first contact with
+the people on unfamiliar planets can be important."
+
+"It sure can," Jack said. "Too important to take chances with. Look,
+this is a ship from Hospital Earth. When somebody calls for help, they
+expect to see an Earthman turn up in response. What are they going to
+think when a patrol ship lands and _he_ walks out?"
+
+Tiger's face darkened. "They'll be able to see his collar and cuff,
+won't they?"
+
+"Maybe. But they may wonder what he's doing wearing them."
+
+"Well, they'll just have to learn," Tiger snapped. "And you'll have to
+learn, too, I guess."
+
+Dal had been sitting silently. Now he shook his head. "I think Jack is
+right on this one," he said. "It would be better for one of you to be
+contact man."
+
+"Why?" Tiger said angrily. "You're as much of a doctor from Hospital
+Earth as we are, and the sooner we get your position here straight, the
+better. We aren't going to have any ugly ducklings on this ship, and we
+aren't going to hide you in the hold every time we land on a planet. If
+we want to make anything but a mess of this cruise, we've got to work as
+a team, and that means everybody shares the important jobs."
+
+"That's fine," Dal said, "but I still think Jack is right on this point.
+If we are walking into a medical problem on a planet where the patrol
+isn't too well known, the contact man by rights ought to be an
+Earthman."
+
+Tiger started to say something, and then spread his hands helplessly.
+"Okay," he said. "If you're satisfied with it, let's get on to these
+other things." But obviously he wasn't satisfied, and when Jack
+disappeared toward the storeroom, Tiger turned to Dal. "You shouldn't
+have given in," he said. "If you give that guy as much as an inch,
+you're just asking for trouble."
+
+"It isn't a matter of giving in," Dal insisted. "I think he was right,
+that's all. Don't let's start a fight where we don't have to."
+
+Tiger yielded the point, but when Jack returned, Tiger avoided him,
+keeping to himself the rest of the evening. And later, as he tried to
+get to sleep, Dal wondered for a moment. Maybe Tiger was right. Maybe he
+was just dodging a head-on clash with the Blue Doctor now and setting
+the stage for a real collision later.
+
+Next day the argument was forgotten in the air of rising excitement as
+embarkation orders for the _Lancet_ came through. Preparations were
+completed, and only last-minute double-checks were required before
+blast-off.
+
+But an hour before count-down began, a jitney buzzed across the field,
+and a Two-star Pathologist climbed aboard with his three black-cloaked
+orderlies. "Shakedown inspection," he said curtly. "Just a matter of
+routine." And with that he stalked slowly through the ship, checking the
+storage holds, the inventories, the lab, the computer with its
+information banks, and the control room. As he went along he kept firing
+medical questions at Dal and Tiger, hardly pausing long enough for the
+answers, and ignoring Jack Alvarez completely. "What's the normal range
+of serum cholesterol in a vegetarian race with Terran environment? How
+would you run a Wenberg electrophoresis? How do you determine individual
+radiation tolerance? How would you prepare a heart culture for cardiac
+transplant on board this ship?" The questions went on until Tiger and
+Dal were breathless, as count-down time grew closer and closer. Finally
+the Black Doctor turned back toward the entrance lock. He seemed vaguely
+disappointed as he checked the record sheets the orderlies had been
+keeping. With an odd look at Dal, he shrugged. "All right, here are your
+clearance papers," he said to Jack. "Your supply of serum globulin
+fractions is up to black-book requirements, but you'll run short if you
+happen to hit a virus epidemic; better take on a couple of more cases.
+And check central information just before leaving. We've signed two new
+contracts in the past week, and the co-ordinator's office has some
+advance information on both of them."
+
+When the inspector had gone, Tiger wiped his forehead and sighed. "That
+was no routine shakedown!" he said. "What _is_ a Wenberg
+electrophoresis?"
+
+"A method of separating serum proteins," Jack Alvarez said. "You ran
+them in third year biochemistry. And if we _do_ hit a virus epidemic,
+you'd better know how, too."
+
+He gave Tiger an unpleasant smile, and started back down the corridor as
+the count-down signal began to buzz.
+
+But for all the advance arrangements they had made to divide the ship's
+work, it was Dal Timgar who took complete control of the _Lancet_ for
+the first two weeks of its cruise. Neither Tiger nor Jack challenged his
+command; not a word was raised in protest. The Earthmen were too sick to
+talk, much less complain about anything.
+
+For Dal the blast-off from the port of Seattle and the conversion into
+Koenig star-drive was nothing new. His father owned a fleet of Garvian
+trading ships that traveled to the far corners of the galaxy by means of
+a star-drive so similar to the Koenig engines that only an electronic
+engineer could tell them apart. All his life Dal had traveled on the
+outgoing freighters with his father; star-drive conversion was no
+surprise to him.
+
+But for Jack and Tiger, it was their first experience in a star-drive
+ship. The _Lancet_'s piloting and navigation were entirely automatic;
+its destination was simply coded into the drive computers, and the ship
+was ready to leap across light years of space in a matter of hours. But
+the conversion to star-drive, as the _Lancet_ was wrenched, crew and
+all, out of the normal space-time continuum, was far outside of normal
+human experience. The physical and emotional shock of the conversion hit
+Jack and Tiger like a sledge hammer, and during the long hours while the
+ship was traveling through the time-less, distance-less universe of the
+drive to the pre-set co-ordinates where it materialized again into
+conventional space-time, the Earthmen were retching violently, too sick
+to budge from the bunk room. It took over two weeks, with stops at half
+a dozen contract planets, before Jack and Tiger began to adjust
+themselves to the frightening and confusing sensations of conversion to
+star-drive. During this time Dal carried the load of the ship's work
+alone, while the others lay gasping and exhausted in their bunks, trying
+to rally strength for the next shift.
+
+To his horror, Dal discovered that the first planetary stop-over was
+traditionally a hazing stop. It had been a well-kept patrol secret; the
+outpost clinic on Tempera VI was waiting eagerly for the arrival of the
+new "green" crew, knowing full well that the doctors aboard would hardly
+be able to stumble out of their bunks, much less to cope with medical
+problems. The outpost men had concocted a medical "crisis" of staggering
+proportions to present to the _Lancet_'s crew; they were so clearly
+disappointed to find the ship's Red Doctor in full command of himself
+that Dal obligingly became violently ill too, and did his best to mimick
+Jack and Tiger's floundering efforts to pull themselves together and do
+_something_ about the "problem" that suddenly descended upon them.
+
+Later, there was a party and celebration, with music and food, as the
+clinic staff welcomed the pale and shaken doctors into the joke. The
+outpost men plied Dal for the latest news from Hospital Earth. They were
+surprised to see a Garvian aboard the _Lancet_, but no one at the
+outpost showed any sign of resentment at the scarlet braid on Dal's
+collar and cuff.
+
+Slowly Jack and Tiger got used to the peculiarities of popping in and
+out of hyperspace. It was said that immunity to star-drive sickness was
+hard to acquire, but lasted a lifetime, and would never again bother
+them once it was achieved. Bit by bit the Earthmen crept out of their
+shells, to find the ship in order and a busy Dal Timgar relieved and
+happy to have them aboard again.
+
+Fortunately, the medical problems that came to the _Lancet_ in the first
+few weeks were largely routine. The ship stopped at the specified
+contact points--some far out near the rim of the galactic
+constellation, others in closer to the densely star-populated center. At
+each outpost clinic the _Lancet_ was welcomed with open arms. The
+outpost men were hungry for news from home, and happy to see fresh
+supplies; but they were also glad to review the current medical problems
+on their planets with the new doctors, exchanging opinions and arguing
+diagnosis and therapy into the small hours of the night.
+
+Occasionally calls came in to the ship from contract planets in need of
+help. Usually the problems were easy to handle. On Singall III, a tiny
+planet of a cooling giant star, help was needed to deal with a new
+outbreak of a smallpox-like plague that had once decimated the
+population; the disease had finally been controlled after a Hospital
+Earth research team had identified the organism that caused it,
+determined its molecular structure, and synthesized an antibiotic that
+could destroy it without damaging the body of the host. But now a
+flareup had occurred. The _Lancet_ brought in supplies of the
+antibiotic, and Tiger Martin spent two days showing Singallese
+physicians how to control further outbreaks with modern methods of
+immunization and antisepsis.
+
+Another planet called for a patrol ship when a bridge-building disaster
+occurred; one of the beetle-like workmen had been badly crushed under a
+massive steel girder. Dal spent over eighteen hours straight with the
+patient in the _Lancet_'s surgery, carefully repairing the creature's
+damaged exoskeleton and grafting new segments of bone for regeneration
+of the hopelessly ruined parts, with Tiger administering anaesthesia and
+Jack preparing the grafts from the freezer.
+
+On another planet Jack faced his first real diagnostic challenge and met
+the test with flying colors. Here a new cancer-like degenerative disease
+had been appearing among the natives of the planet. It had never before
+been noted. Initial attempts to find a causative agent had all three of
+the _Lancet_'s crew spending sleepless nights for a week, but Jack's
+careful study of the pattern of the disease and the biochemical
+reactions that accompanied it brought out the answer: the disease was
+caused by a rare form of genetic change which made crippling alterations
+in an essential enzyme system. Knowing this, Tiger quickly found a drug
+which could be substituted for the damaged enzyme, and the problem was
+solved. They left the planet, assuring the planetary government that
+laboratories on Hospital Earth would begin working at once to find a way
+actually to rebuild the damaged genes in the embryonic cells, and thus
+put a permanent end to the disease.
+
+These were routine calls, the kind of ordinary general medical work that
+the patrol ships were expected to handle. But the visits to the various
+planets were welcome breaks in the pattern of patrol ship life. The
+_Lancet_ was fully equipped, but her crew's quarters and living space
+were cramped. Under the best conditions, the crewmen on patrol ships got
+on each other's nerves; on the _Lancet_ there was an additional focus of
+tension that grew worse with every passing hour.
+
+From the first Jack Alvarez had made no pretense of pleasure at Dal's
+company, but now it seemed that he deliberately sought opportunities to
+annoy him. The thin Blue Doctor's face set into an angry mold whenever
+Dal was around. He would get up and leave when Dal entered the control
+room, and complained loudly and bitterly at minor flaws in Dal's
+shipboard work. Nothing Dal did seemed to please him.
+
+But Tiger had a worse time controlling himself at the Blue Doctor's digs
+and slights than Dal did. "It's like living in an armed camp," he
+complained one night when Jack had stalked angrily out of the bunk
+room. "Can't even open your mouth without having him jump down your
+throat."
+
+"I know," Dal said.
+
+"And he's doing it on purpose."
+
+"Maybe so. But it won't help to lose your temper."
+
+Tiger clenched a huge fist and slammed it into his palm. "He's just
+deliberately picking at you and picking at you," he said. "You can't
+take that forever. Something's got to break."
+
+"It's all right," Dal assured him. "I just ignore it."
+
+But when Jack began to shift his attack to Fuzzy, Dal could ignore it no
+longer.
+
+One night in the control room Jack threw down the report he was writing
+and turned angrily on Dal. "Tell your friend there to turn the other way
+before I lose my temper and splatter him all over the wall," he said,
+pointing to Fuzzy. "All he does is sit there and stare at me and I'm
+getting fed up with it."
+
+Fuzzy drew himself up tightly, shivering on Dal's shoulder. Dal reached
+up and stroked the tiny creature, and Fuzzy's shoe-button eyes
+disappeared completely. "There," Dal said. "Is that better?"
+
+Jack stared at the place the eyes had been, and his face darkened
+suspiciously. "Well, what happened to them?" he demanded.
+
+"What happened to what?"
+
+"To his eyes, you idiot!"
+
+Dal looked down at Fuzzy. "I don't see any eyes."
+
+Jack jumped up from the stool. He scowled at Fuzzy as if commanding the
+eyes to come back again. All he saw was a small ball of pink fur. "Look,
+he's been blinking them at me for a week," he snarled. "I thought all
+along there was something funny about him. Sometimes he's got legs and
+sometimes he hasn't. Sometimes he looks fuzzy, and other times he hasn't
+got any hair at all."
+
+"He's a pleomorph," Dal said. "No cellular structure at all, just a
+protein-colloid matrix."
+
+Jack glowered at the inert little pink lump. "Don't be silly," he said,
+curious in spite of himself. "What holds him together?"
+
+"Who knows? I don't. Some kind of electro-chemical cohesive force. The
+only reason he has 'eyes' is because he thinks I want him to have eyes.
+If you don't like it, he won't have them any more."
+
+"Well, that's very obliging," Jack said. "But why do you keep him
+around? What good does he do you, anyhow? All he does is eat and drink
+and sleep."
+
+"Does he have to do something?" Dal said evasively. "He isn't bothering
+you. Why pick on him?"
+
+"He just seems to worry you an awful lot," Jack said unpleasantly.
+"Let's see him a minute." He reached out for Fuzzy, then jerked his
+finger back with a yelp. Blood dripped from the finger tip.
+
+Jack's face slowly went white. "Why, he--he _bit_ me!"
+
+"Yes, and you're lucky he didn't take a finger off," Dal said, trembling
+with anger. "He doesn't like you any more than I do, and you'll get bit
+every time you come near him, so you'd better keep your hands to
+yourself."
+
+"Don't worry," Jack Alvarez said, "he won't get another chance. You can
+just get rid of him."
+
+"Not a chance," Dal said. "You leave him alone and he won't bother you,
+that's all. And the same thing goes for me."
+
+"If he isn't out of here in twelve hours, I'll get a warrant," Jack said
+tightly. "There are laws against keeping dangerous pets on patrol
+ships."
+
+Somewhere in the main corridor an alarm bell began buzzing. For a
+moment Dal and Jack stood frozen, glaring at each other. Then the door
+burst open and Tiger Martin's head appeared. "Hey, you two, let's get
+moving! We've got a call coming in, and it looks like a tough one. Come
+on back here!"
+
+They headed back toward the radio room. The signal was coming through
+frantically as Tiger reached for the pile of punched tape running out on
+the floor. But as they crowded into the radio room, Dal felt Jack's hand
+on his arm. "If you think I was fooling, you're wrong," the Blue Doctor
+said through his teeth. "You've got twelve hours to get rid of him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+CRISIS ON MORUA VIII
+
+
+The three doctors huddled around the teletype, watching as the decoded
+message was punched out on the tape. "It started coming in just now,"
+Tiger said. "And they've been beaming the signal in a spherical pattern,
+apparently trying to pick up the nearest ship they could get. There's
+certainly some sort of trouble going on."
+
+The message was brief, repeated over and over: REQUIRE MEDICAL AID
+URGENT REPLY AT ONCE. This was followed by the code letters that
+designated the planet, its location, and the number of its medical
+service contract.
+
+Jack glanced at the code. "Morua VIII," he said. "I think that's a grade
+I contract." He began punching buttons on the reference panel, and
+several screening cards came down the slot from the information bank.
+"Yes. The eighth planet of a large Sol-type star, the only inhabited
+planet in the system with a single intelligent race, ursine evolutionary
+pattern." He handed the cards to Tiger. "Teddy-bears, yet!"
+
+"Mammals?" Tiger said.
+
+"Looks like it. And they even hibernate."
+
+"What about the contract?" Dal asked.
+
+"Grade I," said Tiger. "And they've had a thorough survey. Moderately
+advanced in their own medical care, but they have full medical coverage
+any time they think they need it. We'd better get an acknowledgment back
+to them. Jack, get the ship ready to star-jump while Dal starts digging
+information out of the bank. If this race has its own doctors, they'd
+only be hollering for help if they're up against a tough one."
+
+Tiger settled down with earphones and transmitter to try to make contact
+with the Moruan planet, while Jack went forward to control and Dal
+started to work with the tape reader. There was no argument now, and no
+dissension. The procedure to be followed was a well-established routine:
+acknowledge the call, estimate arrival time, relay the call and response
+to the programmers on Hospital Earth, prepare for star-drive, and start
+gathering data fast. With no hint of the nature of the trouble, their
+job was to get there, equipped with as much information about the planet
+and its people as time allowed.
+
+The Moruan system was not distant from the _Lancet_'s present location.
+Tiger calculated that two hours in Koenig drive would put the ship in
+the vicinity of the planet, with another hour required for landing
+procedures. He passed the word on to the others, and Dal began digging
+through the mass of information in the tape library on Morua VIII and
+its people.
+
+There was a wealth of data. Morua VIII had signed one of the first
+medical service contracts with Hospital Earth, and a thorough medical,
+biochemical, social and psychological survey had been made on the people
+of that world. Since the original survey, much additional information
+had been amassed, based on patrol ship reports and dozens of specialty
+studies that had been done there.
+
+And out of this data, a picture of Morua VIII and its inhabitants began
+to emerge.
+
+The Moruans were moderately intelligent creatures, warm-blooded air
+breathers with an oxygen-based metabolism. Their planet was cold, with
+17 per cent oxygen and much water vapor in its atmosphere. With its vast
+snow-fields and great mountain ranges, the planet was a popular resort
+area for oxygen-breathing creatures; most of the natives were engaged in
+some work related to winter sports. They were well fitted anatomically
+for their climate, with thick black fur, broad flat hind feet and a
+four-inch layer of fat between their skin and their vital organs.
+
+Swiftly Dal reviewed the emergency file, checking for common drugs and
+chemicals that were poisonous to Moruans, accidents that were common to
+the race, and special problems that had been met by previous patrol
+ships. The deeper he dug into the mass of data, the more worried he
+became. Where should he begin? Searching in the dark, there was no way
+to guess what information would be necessary and what part totally
+useless.
+
+He buzzed Tiger. "Any word on the nature of the trouble?" he asked.
+
+"Just got through to them," Tiger said. "Not too much to go on, but
+they're really in an uproar. Sounds like they've started some kind of
+organ-transplant surgery and their native surgeon got cold feet halfway
+through and wants us to bail him out." Tiger paused. "I think this is
+going to be your show, Dal. Better check up on Moruan anatomy."
+
+It was better than no information, but not much better. Fuzzy huddled on
+Dal's shoulder as if he could sense his master's excitement. Very few
+races under contract with Hospital Earth ever attempted their own major
+surgery. If a Moruan surgeon had walked into a tight spot in the
+operating room, it could be a real test of skill to get him--and his
+patient--out of it, even on a relatively simple procedure. But
+organ-transplantation, with the delicate vascular surgery and
+micro-surgery that it entailed, was never simple. In incompetent hands,
+it could turn into a nightmare.
+
+Dal took a deep breath and began running the anatomical atlas tapes
+through the reader, checking the critical points of Moruan anatomy.
+Oxygen-transfer system, circulatory system, renal filtration system--at
+first glance, there was little resemblance to any of the "typical"
+oxygen-breathing mammals Dal had studied in medical school. But then
+something struck a familiar note, and he remembered studying the
+peculiar Moruan renal system, in which the creature's chemical waste
+products were filtered from the bloodstream in a series of tubules
+passing across the peritoneum, and re-absorbed into the intestine for
+excretion. Bit by bit other points of the anatomy came clear, and in
+half an hour of intense study Dal began to see how the inhabitants of
+Morua VIII were put together.
+
+Satisfied for the moment, he then pulled the tapes that described the
+Moruans' own medical advancement. What were they doing attempting
+organ-transplantation, anyway? That was the kind of surgery that even
+experienced Star Surgeons preferred to take aboard the hospital ships,
+or back to Hospital Earth, where the finest equipment and the most
+skilled assistants were available.
+
+There was a signal buzzer, the two-minute warning before the Koenig
+drive took over. Dal tossed the tape spools back into the bin for
+refiling, and went forward to the control room.
+
+Just short of two hours later, the _Lancet_ shifted back to normal
+space drive, and the cold yellow sun of the Moruan system swam into
+sight in the viewscreen. Far below, the tiny eighth planet glistened
+like a snowball in the reflection of the sun, with only occasional rents
+in the cloud blanket revealing the ragged surface below. The doctors
+watched as the ship went into descending orbit, skimming the outer
+atmosphere and settling into a landing pattern.
+
+Beneath the cloud blanket, the frigid surface of the planet spread out
+before them. Great snow-covered mountain ranges rose up on either side.
+A forty-mile gale howled across the landing field, sweeping clouds of
+powdery snow before it.
+
+A huge gawky vehicle seemed to be waiting for the ship to land; it shot
+out from the huddle of gray buildings almost the moment they touched
+down. Jack slipped into the furs that he had pulled from stores, and
+went out through the entrance lock and down the ladder to meet the dark
+furry creatures that were bundling out of the vehicle below. The
+electronic language translator was strapped to his chest.
+
+Five minutes later he reappeared, frost forming on his blue collar, his
+face white as he looked at Dal. "You'd better get down there right
+away," he said, "and take your micro-surgical instruments. Tiger, give
+me a hand with the anaesthesia tanks. They're keeping a patient alive
+with a heart-lung machine right now, and they can't finish the job. It
+looks like it might be bad."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Moruan who escorted them across the city to the hospital was a huge
+shaggy creature who left no question of the evolutionary line of his
+people. Except for the flattened nose, the high forehead and the
+fur-less hand with opposing thumb, he looked for all the world like a
+mammoth edition of the Kodiak bears Dal had seen displayed at the
+natural history museum in Hospital Philadelphia. Like all creatures with
+oxygen-and-water based metabolisms, the Moruans could trace their
+evolutionary line to minute one-celled salt-water creatures; but with
+the bitter cold of the planet, the first land-creatures to emerge from
+the primeval swamp of Morua VIII had developed the heavy furs and the
+hibernation characteristics of bear-like mammals. They towered over Dal,
+and even Tiger seemed dwarfed by their immense chest girth and powerful
+shoulders.
+
+As the surface car hurried toward the hospital, Dal probed for more
+information. The Moruan's voice was a hoarse growl which nearly deafened
+the Earthmen in the confined quarters of the car but Dal with the aid of
+the translator could piece together what had happened.
+
+More sophisticated in medical knowledge than most races in the galaxy,
+the Moruans had learned a great deal from their contact with Hospital
+Earth physicians. They actually did have a remarkable grasp of
+physiology and biochemistry, and constantly sought to learn more. They
+had already found ways to grow replacement organs from embryonic grafts,
+the Moruan said, and by copying the techniques used by the surgeons of
+Hospital Earth, their own surgeons had attempted the delicate job of
+replacing a diseased organ with a new, healthy one in a young male
+afflicted with cancer.
+
+Dal looked up at the Moruan doctor. "What organ were you replacing?" he
+asked suspiciously.
+
+"Oh, not the entire organ, just a segment," the Moruan said. "The tumor
+had caused an obstructive pneumonia--"
+
+"Are you talking about a segment of _lung_?" Dal said, almost choking.
+
+"Of course. That's where the tumor was."
+
+Dal swallowed hard. "So you just decided to replace a segment."
+
+"Yes. But something has gone wrong, we don't know what."
+
+"I see." It was all Dal could do to keep from shouting at the huge
+creature. The Moruans had no duplication of organs, such as Earthmen and
+certain other races had. A tumor of the lung would mean death ... but
+the technique of grafting a culture-grown lung segment to a portion of
+natural lung required enormous surgical skill, and the finest
+microscopic instruments that could be made in order to suture together
+the tiny capillary walls and air tubules. And if one lung were
+destroyed, a Moruan had no other to take its place. "Do you have any
+micro-surgical instruments at all?"
+
+"Oh, yes," the Moruan rumbled proudly. "We made them ourselves, just for
+this case."
+
+"You mean you've never attempted this procedure before?"
+
+"This was the first time. We don't know where we went wrong."
+
+"You went wrong when you thought about trying it," Dal muttered. "What
+anaesthesia?"
+
+"Oxygen and alcohol vapor."
+
+This was no surprise. With many species, alcohol vapor was more
+effective and less toxic than other anaesthetic gases. "And you have a
+heart-lung machine?"
+
+"The finest available, on lease from Hospital Earth."
+
+All the way through the city Dal continued the questioning, and by the
+time they reached the hospital he had an idea of the task that was
+facing him. He knew now that it was going to be bad; he didn't realize
+just how bad until he walked into the operating room.
+
+The patient was barely alive. Recognizing too late that they were in
+water too deep for them, the Moruan surgeons had gone into panic, and
+neglected the very fundamentals of physiological support for the
+creature on the table. Dal had to climb up on a platform just to see the
+operating field; the faithful wheeze of the heart-lung machine that was
+sustaining the creature continued in Dal's ears as he examined the work
+already done, first with the naked eye, then scanning the operative
+field with the crude microscopic eyepiece.
+
+"How long has he been anaesthetized?" he asked the shaggy operating
+surgeon.
+
+"Over eighteen hours already."
+
+"And how much blood has he received?"
+
+"A dozen liters."
+
+"Any more on hand?"
+
+"Perhaps six more."
+
+"Well, you'd better get it into him. He's in shock right now."
+
+The surgeon scurried away while Dal took another look at the micro
+field. The situation was bad; the anaesthesia had already gone on too
+long, and the blood chemistry record showed progressive failure.
+
+He stepped down from the platform, trying to clear his head and decide
+the right thing to do.
+
+He had done micro-surgery before, plenty of it, and he knew the
+techniques necessary to complete the job, but the thought of attempting
+it chilled him. At best, he was on unfamiliar ground, with a dozen
+factors that could go wrong. By now the patient was a dreadful risk for
+any surgeon. If he were to step in now, and the patient died, how would
+he explain not calling for help?
+
+He stepped out to the scrub room where Tiger was waiting. "Where's
+Jack?" he said.
+
+"Went back to the ship for the rest of the surgical pack."
+
+Dal shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I think we should get him
+to a hospital ship."
+
+"Is it more than you can handle?" Tiger said.
+
+"I could probably do it all right--but I could lose him, too."
+
+A frown creased Tiger's face. "Dal, it would take six hours for a
+hospital ship to get here."
+
+"I know that. But on the other hand...." Dal spread his hands. He felt
+Fuzzy crouching in a tight frightened lump in his pocket. He thought
+again of the delicate, painstaking microscopic work that remained to be
+done to bring the new section of lung into position to function, and he
+shook his head. "Look, these creatures hibernate," he said. "If we could
+get him cooled down enough, we could lighten the anaesthesia and
+maintain him as is, indefinitely."
+
+"This is up to you," Tiger said. "I don't know anything about surgery.
+If you think we should just hold tight, that's what we'll do."
+
+"All right. I think we'd better. Have them notify Jack to signal for a
+hospital ship. We'll just try to stick it out."
+
+Tiger left to pass the word, and Dal went back into the operating room.
+Suddenly he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his
+shoulders. There would be Three-star Surgeons on a Hospital Ship to
+handle this; it seemed an enormous relief to have the task out of his
+hands. Yet something was wriggling uncomfortably in the back of his
+mind, a quiet little voice saying _this isn't right, you should be doing
+this yourself right now instead of wasting precious time...._
+
+He thrust the thought away angrily and ordered the Moruan physicians to
+bring in ice packs to cool the patient's huge hulk down to hibernation
+temperatures. "We're going to send for help," Dal told the Moruan
+surgeon who had met them at the ship. "This man needs specialized care,
+and we'd be taking too much chance to try to do it this way."
+
+"You mean you're sending for a hospital ship?"
+
+"That's right," Dal said.
+
+This news seemed to upset the Moruans enormously. They began growling
+among themselves, moving back from the operating table.
+
+"Then you can't save him?" the operating surgeon said.
+
+"I think he can be saved, certainly!"
+
+"But we thought you could just step in--"
+
+"I could, but that would be taking chances that we don't need to take.
+We can maintain him until the hospital ship arrives."
+
+The Moruans continued to growl ominously, but Dal brushed past them,
+checking the vital signs of the patient as his body temperature slowly
+dropped. Tiger had taken over the anaesthesia, keeping the patient under
+as light a dosage of medication as was possible.
+
+"What's eating them?" he asked Dal quietly.
+
+"They don't want a hospital ship here very much," Dal said. "Afraid
+they'll look like fools all over the Confederation if the word gets out.
+But that's their worry. Ours is to keep this bruiser alive until the
+ship gets here."
+
+They settled back to wait.
+
+It was an agonizing time for Dal. Even Fuzzy didn't seem to be much
+comfort. The patient was clearly not doing well, even with the low body
+temperatures Dal had induced. His blood pressure was sagging, and at one
+time Tiger sat up sharply, staring at his anaesthesia dials and frowning
+in alarm as the nervous-system reactions flagged. The Moruan physicians
+hovered about, increasingly uneasy as they saw the doctors from Hospital
+Earth waiting and doing nothing. One of them, unable to control himself
+any longer, tore off his sterile gown and stalked angrily out of the
+operating suite.
+
+A dozen times Dal was on the verge of stepping in. It was beginning to
+look now like a race with time, and precious minutes were passing by. He
+cursed himself inwardly for not taking the bit in his teeth at the
+beginning and going ahead the best he could; it had been a mistake in
+judgment to wait. Now, as minutes passed into hours it looked more and
+more like a mistake that was going to cost the life of a patient.
+
+Then there was a murmur of excitement outside the operating room, and
+word came in that another ship had been sighted making landing
+maneuvers. Dal clenched his fists, praying that the patient would last
+until the hospital ship crew arrived.
+
+But the ship that was landing was not a hospital ship. Someone turned on
+a TV scanner and picked up the image of a small ship hardly larger than
+a patrol ship, with just two passengers stepping down the ladder to the
+ground. Then the camera went close-up. Dal saw the faces of the two men,
+and his heart sank.
+
+One was a Four-star Surgeon, resplendent in flowing red cape and
+glistening silver insignia. Dal did not recognize the man, but the four
+stars meant that he was a top-ranking physician in the Red Service of
+Surgery.
+
+The other passenger, gathering his black cloak and hood around him as he
+faced the blistering wind on the landing field, was Black Doctor Hugo
+Tanner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Moments after the Four-star Surgeon arrived at the hospital, he was
+fully and unmistakably in command of the situation. He gave Dal an icy
+stare, then turned to the Moruan operating surgeon, whom he seemed to
+know very well. After a short barrage of questions and answers, he
+scrubbed and gowned, and stalked past Dal to the crude Moruan
+micro-surgical control table.
+
+It took him exactly fifteen seconds to scan the entire operating field
+through the viewer, discussing the anatomy as the Moruan surgeon watched
+on a connecting screen. Then, without hesitation, he began manipulating
+the micro-instruments. Once or twice he murmured something to Tiger at
+the anaesthesia controls, and occasionally he nodded reassurance to the
+Moruan surgeon. He did not even invite Dal to observe.
+
+Ten minutes later he rose from the control table and threw the switch to
+stop the heart-lung machine. The patient took a gasping breath on his
+own, then another and another. The Four-star Surgeon stripped off his
+gown and gloves with a flourish. "It will be all right," he said to the
+Moruan physician. "An excellent job, Doctor, excellent!" he said. "Your
+technique was flawless, except for the tiny matter you have just
+observed."
+
+It was not until they were outside the operating room and beyond earshot
+of the Moruan doctors that the Four-star surgeon turned furiously to
+Dal. "Didn't you even bother to examine the operating field, Doctor?
+Where did you study surgery? Couldn't you tell that the fools had
+practically finished the job themselves? All that was needed was a
+simple great-vessel graft, which an untrained idiot could have done
+blindfolded. And for this you call me clear from Hospital Earth!"
+
+The surgeon threw down his mask in disgust and stalked away, leaving Dal
+and Tiger staring at each other in dismay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+TIGER MAKES A PROMISE
+
+
+"I think," Black Doctor Hugo Tanner said ominously, "that an explanation
+is in order. I would now like to hear it. And believe me, gentlemen, it
+had better be a very sensible explanation, too."
+
+The pathologist was sitting in the control room of the _Lancet_, his
+glasses slightly askew on his florid face. He had climbed through the
+entrance lock ten minutes before, shaking snow off his cloak and
+wheezing like a boiler about to explode; now he faced the patrol ship's
+crew like a small but ominous black thundercloud. Across the room, Jack
+Alvarez was staring through the viewscreen at the blizzard howling
+across the landing field below, a small satisfied smile on his face,
+while Tiger sulked with his hands jammed into his trousers. Dal sat by
+himself feeling very much alone, with Fuzzy peering discreetly out of
+his jacket pocket.
+
+He knew the Black Doctor was speaking to him, but he didn't try to
+reply. He had known from the moment the surgeon came out of the
+operating room that he was in trouble. It was just a matter of time
+before he would have to answer for his decision here, and it was even
+something of a relief that the moment came sooner rather than later.
+
+And the more Dal considered his position, the more indefensible it
+appeared. Time after time he had thought of Dr. Arnquist's words about
+judgment and skill. Without one the other was of little value to a
+doctor, and whatever his skill as a surgeon might have been in the
+Moruan operating room, he now realized that his judgment had been poor.
+He had allowed himself to panic at a critical moment, and had failed to
+see how far the surgery had really progressed. By deciding to wait for
+help to arrive instead of taking over at once, he had placed the patient
+in even greater jeopardy than before. In looking back, Dal could see
+clearly that it would have been far better judgment to proceed on his
+own.
+
+But that was how it looked _now_, not _then_, and there was an old
+saying that the "retrospectoscope" was the only infallible instrument in
+all medicine.
+
+In any event, the thing was done, and couldn't be changed, and Dal knew
+that he could only stand on what he had done, right or wrong.
+
+"Well, I'm waiting," Black Doctor Tanner said, scowling at Dal through
+his thick-rimmed glasses. "I want to know who was responsible for this
+fiasco, and why it occurred in the first place."
+
+Dal spread his hands hopelessly. "What do you want me to say?" he asked.
+"I took a careful history of the situation as soon as we arrived here,
+and then I examined the patient in the operating room. I thought the
+surgery might be over my head, and couldn't see attempting it if a
+hospital ship could be reached in time. I thought the patient could be
+maintained safely long enough for us to call for help."
+
+"I see," the Black Doctor said. "You've done micro-surgery before?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And organ transplant work?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The Black Doctor opened a folder and peered at it over his glasses. "As
+a matter of fact, you spent two solid years in micro-surgical training
+in Hospital Philadelphia, with all sorts of glowing reports from your
+preceptors about what a flair you had for the work."
+
+Dal shook his head. "I--I did some work in the field, yes, but not on
+critical cases under field conditions."
+
+"You mean that this case required some different kind of technique than
+the cases you've worked on before?"
+
+"No, not really, but--"
+
+"But you just couldn't quite shoulder the responsibility the job
+involved when you got into a pinch without any help around," the Black
+Doctor growled.
+
+"I just thought it would be safer to wait," Dal said helplessly.
+
+"A good conservative approach," Dr. Tanner sneered. "Of course, you
+realized that prolonged anaesthesia in itself could threaten that
+patient's life?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you saw the patient's condition steadily deteriorating while you
+waited, did you not?"
+
+"It was too late to change my mind then," Dal said desperately. "We'd
+sent for you. We knew that it would be only a matter of hours before you
+arrived."
+
+"Indeed," the Black Doctor said. "Unfortunately, it takes only seconds
+for a patient to cross the line between life and death, not hours. And I
+suppose you would have stood there quietly and allowed him to expire if
+we had not arrived at the time we did?"
+
+Dal shook his head miserably. There was nothing he could answer to that,
+and he realized it. What could he say? That the situation seemed quite
+different now than it had under pressure in the Moruan operating room?
+That he would have been blamed just as much if he had gone ahead, and
+then lost the case? His fingers stole down to Fuzzy's soft warm body for
+comfort, and he felt the little creature cling closer to his side.
+
+The Black Doctor looked up at the others. "Well? What do the rest of you
+have to say?"
+
+Jack Alvarez shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a surgeon," he said, "but
+even I could see that _something_ should be done without delay."
+
+"And what does the Green Doctor think?"
+
+Tiger shrugged. "We misjudged the situation, that's all. It came out
+fortunately for the patient, why make all this fuss about it?"
+
+"Because there are other things at stake than just medical
+considerations," the Black Doctor shot back. "This planet has a grade I
+contract with Hospital Earth. We guarantee them full medical coverage of
+all situations and promise them immediate response to any call for
+medical help that they may send us. It is the most favorable kind of
+contract we have; when Morua VIII calls for help they expect their call
+to be answered by expert medical attention, not by inept bungling."
+
+The Black Doctor leafed through the folder in his hands. "We have built
+our reputation in the Galactic Confederation on this kind of contract,
+and our admission to full membership in the Confederation will
+ultimately depend upon how we fulfill our promises. Poor medical
+judgment cannot be condoned under any circumstances--but above all, we
+cannot afford to jeopardize a contract."
+
+Dal stared at him. "I--I had no intention of jeopardizing a contract,"
+he faltered.
+
+"Perhaps not," the Black Doctor said. "But you were the doctor on the
+spot, and you were so obviously incompetent to handle the situation that
+even these clumsy Moruan surgeons could see it. Their faith in the
+doctors from Hospital Earth has been severely shaken. They are even
+talking of letting their contract lapse at the end of this term."
+
+Tiger Martin jumped to his feet. "Doctor Tanner, even Four-star Surgeons
+lose patients sometimes. These people should be glad that the doctor
+they call has sense enough to call for help if he needs it."
+
+"But no help was needed," the Black Doctor said angrily. "Any
+half-decent surgeon would have handled the case. If the Moruans see a
+patrol ship bring in one incompetent doctor, what are they going to
+expect the next time they have need for help? How can they feel sure
+that their medical needs are well taken care of?" He shook his head
+grimly. "This is the sort of responsibility that doctors on the patrol
+ships are expected to assume. If you call for help where there is need
+for help, no one will ever complain; but when you turn and run the
+moment things get tough, you are not fit for patrol ship service."
+
+The Black Doctor turned to Dal Timgar. "You had ample warning," he said.
+"It was clearly understood that your assignment on this ship depended
+upon the fulfillment of the duties of Red Doctor here, and now at the
+first real test you turn and run instead of doing your job. All right.
+You had your opportunity. You can't complain that we haven't given you a
+chance. According to the conduct code of the General Practice Patrol,
+section XIV, paragraph 2, any physician in the patrol on probationary
+status who is found delinquent in executing his duties may be relieved
+of his assignment at the order of any Black Doctor, or any other
+physician of four-star rank." Doctor Tanner closed the folder with a
+snap of finality. "It seems to me that the case is clear. Dal Timgar, on
+the authority of the Code, I am now relieving you of duty--"
+
+"Just a minute," Tiger Martin burst out.
+
+The Black Doctor looked up at him. "Well?"
+
+"This is ridiculous," Tiger said. "Why are you picking on _him_? Or do
+you mean that you're relieving all three of us?"
+
+"Of course I'm not relieving all three of you," the Black Doctor
+snapped. "You and Dr. Alvarez will remain on duty and conduct the ship's
+program without a Red Doctor until a man is sent to replace this
+bungler. That also is provided for in the code."
+
+"But I understood that we were operating as a diagnostic and therapeutic
+team," Tiger protested. "And I seem to remember something in the code
+about fixing responsibility before a man can be relieved."
+
+"There's no question where the responsibility lies," the Black Doctor
+said, his face darkening. "This was a surgical problem, and Dal Timgar
+made the decisions. I don't see anything to argue."
+
+"There's plenty to argue," Tiger said. "Dal, don't you see what he's
+trying to do?"
+
+Across the room Dal shook his head wearily. "You'd better keep out of
+it, Tiger," he said.
+
+"Why should I keep out of it and let you be drummed out of the patrol
+for something that wasn't even your fault?" Tiger said. He turned
+angrily to the Black Doctor. "Dal wasn't the one that wanted the
+hospital ship called," he said. "I was. If you're going to relieve
+somebody, you'd better make it me."
+
+The Black Doctor pulled off his glasses and glared at Tiger. "Whatever
+are you talking about?" he said.
+
+"Just what I said. We had a conference after he'd examined the patient
+in the operating room, and I insisted that we call the hospital ship.
+Why, Dal--Dal wanted to go ahead and try to finish the case right then,
+and I wouldn't let him," Tiger blundered on. "I didn't think the patient
+could take it. I thought that it would be too great a risk with the
+facilities we had here."
+
+Dal was staring at Tiger, and he felt Fuzzy suddenly shivering violently
+in his pocket. "Tiger, don't be foolish--"
+
+The Black Doctor slammed the file down on the table again. "Is this
+true, what he's saying?" he asked Dal.
+
+"No, not a word of it," Dal said. "I wanted to call the hospital ship."
+
+"Of course he won't admit it," Tiger said angrily. "He's afraid you'll
+kick me out too, but it's true just the same in spite of what he says."
+
+"And what do _you_ say?" the Black Doctor said, turning to Jack Alvarez.
+
+"I say it's carrying this big brother act too far," Jack said. "I didn't
+notice any conferences going on."
+
+"You were back at the ship getting the surgical pack," Tiger said. "You
+didn't know anything about it. You didn't hear us talking, and we didn't
+see any reason to consult you about it."
+
+The Black Doctor stared from Dal to Tiger, his face growing angrier by
+the minute. He jerked to his feet, and stalked back and forth across the
+control room, glaring at them. Then he took a capsule from his pocket,
+gulped it down with some water, and sat back down. "I ought to throw
+you both out on your ears," he snarled. "But I am forced to control
+myself. I mustn't allow myself to get angry--" He crashed his fist down
+on the control panel. "I suppose that you would swear to this statement
+of yours if it came to that?" he asked Tiger.
+
+Tiger nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I certainly would."
+
+"All right," the Black Doctor said tightly. "Then you win this one. The
+code says that two opinions can properly decide any course of action. If
+you insist that two of you agreed on this decision, then I am forced to
+support you officially. I will make a report of the incident to patrol
+headquarters, and it will go on the permanent records of all three of
+this ship's crew--including my personal opinion of the decision." He
+looked up at Dal. "But be very careful, my young friend. Next time you
+may not have a technicality to back you up, and I'll be watching for the
+first plausible excuse to break you, and your Green Doctor friend as
+well. One misstep, and you're through. And I assure you that is not just
+an idle threat. I mean every word of it."
+
+And trembling with rage, the Black Doctor picked up the folder, wrapped
+his cape around him, and marched out of the control room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, you put on a great show," Jack Alvarez said later as they
+prepared the ship for launching from the snow-swept landing field on
+Morua VIII. An hour before the ground had trembled as the Black Doctor's
+ship took off with Dr. Tanner and the Four-star Surgeon aboard; now Jack
+broke the dark silence in the _Lancet_'s control room for the first
+time. "A really great show. You missed your calling, Tiger. You should
+have been on the stage. If you think you fooled Dr. Tanner with that
+story for half a second, you're crazy, but I guess you got what you
+wanted. You kept your pal's cuff and collar for him, and you put a black
+mark on all of our records, including mine. I hope you're satisfied."
+
+Tiger Martin took off his earphones and set them carefully on the
+control panel. "You know," he said to Jack, "you're lucky."
+
+"Really?"
+
+"You're lucky I don't wipe that sneer off your face and scrub the walls
+with it. And you'd better not crowd your luck, because all I need right
+now is an invitation." He stood up, towering over the dark-haired Blue
+Doctor. "You bet I'm satisfied. And if you got a black mark along with
+the rest of us, you earned it all the way."
+
+"That still doesn't make it right," Dal said from across the room.
+
+"You just keep out of this for a minute," Tiger said. "Jack has got to
+get a couple of things straight, and this is the time for it right now."
+
+Dal shook his head. "I can't keep out of it," he said. "You got me off
+the hook by shifting the blame, but you put yourself in trouble doing
+it. Dr. Tanner could just as well have thrown us both out of the service
+as not."
+
+Tiger snorted. "On what grounds? For a petty little error like this? He
+wouldn't dare! You ought to read the log books of some of the other GPP
+ships some time and see the kind of bloopers they pull without even a
+reprimand. Don't worry, he was mad enough to throw us both out if he
+thought he could make it stick, but he knew he couldn't. He knew the
+council would just review the case and reverse his decision."
+
+"It was still my error, not yours," Dal protested. "I should have gone
+ahead and finished the case on the spot. I knew it at the time, and I
+just didn't quite dare."
+
+"So you made a mistake," Tiger said. "You'll make a dozen more before
+you get your Star, and if none of them amount to any more than this one,
+you can be very happy." He scowled at Jack. "It's only thanks to our
+friend here that the Black Doctor heard about this at all. A hospital
+ship would have come to take the patient aboard, and the local doctors
+would have been quieted down and that would have been all there was to
+it. This business about losing a contract is a lot of nonsense."
+
+"Then you think this thing was just used as an excuse to get at me?"
+
+"Ask him," Tiger said, looking at Jack again. "Ask him why a Black
+Doctor and a Four-star Surgeon turned up when we just called for a
+hospital ship."
+
+"I called the hospital ship," Jack said sullenly.
+
+"But you called Dr. Tanner too," said Tiger. "Your nose has been out of
+joint ever since Dal came aboard this ship. You've made things as
+miserable for him as you could, and you just couldn't wait for a chance
+to come along to try to scuttle him."
+
+"All right," Jack said, "but he was making a mistake. Anybody could see
+that. What if the patient had died while he was standing around waiting?
+Isn't that important?"
+
+Tiger started to answer, and then threw up his hands in disgust. "It's
+important--but something else is more important. We've got a job to do
+on this ship, and we can't do it fighting each other. Dal misjudged a
+case and got in trouble. Fine, he won't make that mistake again. It
+could just as well have been you, or me. We'll all make mistakes, but if
+we can't work as a team, we're sunk. We'll all be drummed out of the
+patrol before a year is out." Tiger stopped to catch his breath, his
+face flushed with anger. "Well, I'm fed up with this back-stabbing
+business. I don't want a fight any more than Dal does, but if I have to
+fight, I'll fight to get it over with, and you'd better be careful. If
+you pull any more sly ones, you'd better include me in the deal, because
+if Dal goes, I go too. And that's a promise."
+
+There was silence for a moment as Jack stared up at Tiger's angry face.
+He shook his head and blinked, as though he couldn't quite believe what
+he was hearing. He looked across at Dal, and then back at Tiger again.
+"You mean you'd turn in your collar and cuff?" he said.
+
+"If it came to that."
+
+"I see." Jack sat down at the control panel, still shaking his head. "I
+think you really mean it," he said soberly. "This isn't just a big
+brother act. You really like the guy, don't you?"
+
+"Maybe I do," Tiger said, "but I don't like to watch anybody get kicked
+around just because somebody else doesn't happen to like him."
+
+The control room was very quiet. Then somewhere below a motor clicked
+on, and the ventilation fan made a quiet whirring sound. The teletype
+clicked sporadically down the corridor in the communications room. Dal
+sat silently, rubbing Fuzzy between the eyes and watching the two
+Earthmen. It seemed suddenly as if they were talking about somebody a
+million miles away, as if he were not even in the room.
+
+Then the Blue Doctor shrugged and rose to his feet. "All right," he said
+to Tiger. "I guess I just didn't understand where you stood, and I
+suppose it wasn't my job to let the Black Doctor know about the
+situation here. I don't plan to be making all the mistakes you think
+we're going to make, and I won't take the blame for anybody else's, but
+I guess we've got to work together in the tight spots." He gave Dal a
+lop-sided grin. "Welcome aboard," he said. "We'd better get this crate
+airborne before the people here come and cart it away."
+
+They moved then, and the subject was dropped. Half an hour later the
+_Lancet_ lifted through the atmospheric pull of the Moruan planet and
+moved on toward the next contact point, leaving the recovering patient
+in the hands of the native physicians. It was not until hours later that
+Dal noticed that Fuzzy had stopped quivering, and was resting happily
+and securely on his shoulder even when the Blue Doctor was near.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS
+
+
+Once more the crew of the _Lancet_ settled down to routine, and the
+incident on Morua VIII seemed almost forgotten.
+
+But a change had come about in the relations between the three doctors,
+and in every way the change was for the better. If Jack Alvarez was not
+exactly cordial to Dal Timgar, at least he had dropped the open
+antagonism that he had shown before. Apparently Tiger's angry outburst
+had startled Jack, as though he had never really considered that the big
+Earthman might honestly be attached to his friend from Garv II, and the
+Blue Doctor seemed sincere in his agreement to work with Dal and Tiger
+as a team.
+
+But bit by bit Dal could sense that the change in Jack's attitude went
+deeper than the surface. "You know, I really think he was _scared_ of
+me," Dal said one night when he and Tiger were alone. "Sounds silly, but
+I think it's true. He pretends to be so sure of himself, but I think
+he's as worried about doing things wrong as we are, and just won't admit
+it. And he really thought I was a threat when I came aboard."
+
+"He probably had a good thorough briefing from Black Doctor Tanner
+before he got the assignment," Tiger said grimly.
+
+"Maybe--but somehow I don't think he cares for the Black Doctor much
+more than we do."
+
+But whatever the reason, much of the tension was gone when the _Lancet_
+had left the Moruan system behind. A great weight seemed to have been
+lifted, and if there was not quite peace on board, at least there was an
+uneasy truce. Tiger and Jack were almost friendly, talking together more
+often and getting to know each other better. Jack still avoided Dal and
+seldom included him in conversations, but the open contempt of the first
+few weeks on the ship now seemed tempered somewhat.
+
+Once again the _Lancet_'s calls fell into a pattern. Landings on the
+outpost planets became routine, bright spots in a lonely and wandering
+existence. The calls that came in represented few real problems. The
+ship stopped at one contract planet to organize a mass inoculation
+program against a parasitic infestation resembling malaria. They paused
+at another place to teach the native doctors the use of some new
+surgical instruments that had been developed in Hospital Earth
+laboratories just for them. Frantic emergency calls usually proved to
+involve trivial problems, but once or twice potentially serious
+situations were spotted early, before they could develop into real
+trouble.
+
+And as the three doctors got used to the responsibilities of a patrol
+ship's rounds, and grew more confident of their ability to handle the
+problems thrust upon them, they found themselves working more and more
+efficiently as a team.
+
+This was the way the General Practice Patrol was supposed to function.
+Each doctor had unsuspected skills that came to light. There was no
+questioning Jack Alvarez's skill as a diagnostician, but it seemed
+uncanny to Dal the way the slender, dark-haired Earthman could listen
+carefully to a medical problem of an alien race on a remote planet, and
+then seem to know exactly which questions to ask to draw out the
+significant information about the situation. Tiger was not nearly as
+quick and clever as Jack; he needed more time to ponder a question of
+medical treatment, and he would often spend long hours poring over the
+data tapes before deciding what to do in a given case--but he always
+seemed to come up with an answer, and his answers usually worked. Above
+all, Tiger's relations with the odd life-forms they encountered were
+invariably good; the creatures seemed to like him, and would follow his
+instructions faithfully.
+
+Dal, too, had opportunities to demonstrate that his surgical skill and
+judgment was not universally faulty in spite of the trouble on Morua
+VIII. More than once he succeeded in almost impossible surgical cases
+where there was no time to call for help, and little by little he could
+sense Jack's growing confidence in his abilities, grudging though it
+might be.
+
+Dal had ample time to mull over the thing that had happened on Morua
+VIII and to think about the interview with Black Doctor Tanner
+afterward. He knew he was glad that Tiger had intervened even on the
+basis of a falsehood; until Tiger had spoken up Dal had been certain
+that the Black Doctor fully intended to use the incident as an excuse to
+discharge him from the General Practice Patrol. There was no question in
+his mind that the Black Doctor's charges had been exaggerated into a
+trumped-up case against him, and there was no question that Tiger's
+insistence on taking the blame had saved him; he could not help being
+thankful.
+
+Yet there was something about it that disturbed Dal, nibbling away
+persistently at his mind. He couldn't throw off the feeling that his own
+acceptance of Tiger's help had been wrong.
+
+Part of it, he knew, was his native, inbred loathing for falsehood. Fair
+or unfair, Dal had always disliked lying. Among his people, the truth
+might be bent occasionally, but frank lying was considered a deep
+disgrace, and there was a Garvian saying that "a false tongue wins no
+true friends." Garvian traders were known throughout the Galaxy as much
+for their rigid adherence to their word as they were for the hard
+bargains they could drive; Dal had been enormously confused during his
+first months on Hospital Earth by the way Earthmen seemed to accept
+lying as part of their daily life, unconcerned about it as long as the
+falsehood could not be proven.
+
+But something else about Tiger's defense of him bothered Dal far more
+than the falsehood--something that had vaguely disturbed him ever since
+he had known the big Earthman, and that now seemed to elude him every
+time he tried to pinpoint it. Lying in his bunk during a sleep period,
+Dal remembered vividly the first time he had met Tiger, early in the
+second year of medical school. Dal had almost despaired by then of
+making friends with his hostile and resentful classmates and had begun
+more and more to avoid contact with them, building up a protective shell
+and relying on Fuzzy for company or comfort. Then Tiger had found him
+eating lunch by himself in the medical school lounge one day and flopped
+down in the seat beside him and began talking as if Dal were just
+another classmate. Tiger's open friendliness had been like a spring
+breeze to Dal who was desperately lonely in this world of strangers;
+their friendship had grown rapidly, and gradually others in the class
+had begun to thaw enough at least to be civil when Dal was around. Dal
+had sensed that this change of heart was largely because of Tiger and
+not because of him, yet he had welcomed it as a change from the previous
+intolerable coldness even though it left him feeling vaguely uneasy.
+Tiger was well liked by the others in the class; Dal had been grateful
+more than once when Tiger had risen in hot defense of the Garvian's
+right to be studying medicine among Earthmen in the school on Hospital
+Earth.
+
+But that had been in medical school, among classmates. Somehow that had
+been different from the incident that occurred on Morua VIII, and Dal's
+uneasiness grew stronger than ever the more he thought of it. Talking to
+Tiger about it was no help; Tiger just grinned and told him to forget
+it, but even in the rush of shipboard activity it stubbornly refused to
+be forgotten.
+
+One minor matter also helped to ease the tension between the doctors as
+they made their daily rounds. Tiger brought a pink dispatch sheet in to
+Dal one day, grinning happily. "This is from the weekly news capsule,"
+he said. "It ought to cheer you up."
+
+It was a brief news note, listed under "incidental items." "The Black
+Service of Pathology," it said, "has announced that Black Doctor Hugo
+Tanner will enter Hospital Philadelphia within the next week for
+prophylactic heart surgery. In keeping with usual Hospital Earth
+administrative policy, the Four-star Black Doctor will undergo a total
+cardiac transplant to halt the Medical education administrator's
+progressively disabling heart disease." The note went on to name the
+surgeons who would officiate at the procedure.
+
+Dal smiled and handed back the dispatch. "Maybe it will improve his
+temper," he said, "even if it does give him another fifty years of
+active life."
+
+"Well, at least it will take him out of _our_ hair for a while," Tiger
+said. "He won't have time to keep us under too close scrutiny."
+
+Which, Dal was forced to admit, did not make him too unhappy.
+
+Shipboard rounds kept all three doctors busy. Often, with contact
+landings, calls, and studying, it seemed only a brief time from sleep
+period to sleep period, but still they had some time for minor luxuries.
+Dal was almost continuously shivering, with the ship kept at a
+temperature that was comfortable for Tiger and Jack; he missed the
+tropical heat of his home planet, and sometimes it seemed that he was
+chilled down to the marrow of his bones in spite of his coat of gray
+fur. With a little home-made plumbing and ingenuity, he finally managed
+to convert one of the ship's shower units into a steam bath. Once or
+twice each day he would retire for a blissful half hour warming himself
+up to Garv II normal temperatures.
+
+Fuzzy also became a part of shipboard routine. Once he grew accustomed
+to Tiger and Jack and the surroundings aboard the ship, the little
+creature grew bored sitting on Dal's shoulder and wanted to be in the
+middle of things. Since the early tension had eased, he was willing to
+be apart from his master from time to time, so Dal and Tiger built him a
+platform that hung from the ceiling of the control room. There Fuzzy
+would sit and swing by the hour, blinking happily at the activity going
+on all around him.
+
+But for all the appearance of peace and agreement, there was still an
+undercurrent of tension on board the _Lancet_ which flared up from time
+to time when it was least expected, between Dal and Jack. It was on one
+such occasion that a major crisis almost developed, and once again Fuzzy
+was the center of the contention.
+
+Dal Timgar knew that disaster had struck at the very moment it happened,
+but he could not tell exactly what was wrong. All he knew was that
+something fearful had happened to Fuzzy.
+
+There was a small sound-proof cubicle in the computer room, with a
+chair, desk and a tape-reader for the doctors when they had odd moments
+to spend reading up on recent medical bulletins or reviewing their
+textbooks. Dal spent more time here than the other two; the temperature
+of the room could be turned up, and he had developed a certain fondness
+for the place with its warm gray walls and its soft relaxing light. Here
+on the tapes were things that he could grapple with, things that he
+could understand. If a problem here eluded him, he could study it out
+until he had mastered it. The hours he spent here were a welcome retreat
+from the confusing complexities of getting along with Jack and Tiger.
+
+These long study periods were boring for Fuzzy who wasn't much
+interested in the oxygen-exchange mechanism of the intelligent beetles
+of Aldebaran VI. Frequently Dal would leave him to swing on his platform
+or explore about the control cabin while he spent an hour or two at
+the tape-reader. Today Dal had been working for over an hour,
+deeply immersed in a review of the intermediary metabolism of
+chlorine-breathing mammals, when something abruptly wrenched his
+attention from the tape.
+
+It was as though a light had snapped off in his mind, or a door slammed
+shut. There was no sound, no warning; yet, suddenly, he felt dreadfully,
+frighteningly alone, as if in a split second something inside him had
+been torn away. He sat bolt upright, staring, and he felt his skin crawl
+and his fingers tremble as he listened, trying to spot the source of the
+trouble.
+
+And then, almost instinctively, he knew what was wrong. He leaped to
+his feet, tore open the door to the cubicle and dashed down the hallway
+toward the control room. "Fuzzy!" he shouted. "Fuzzy, _where are you?_"
+
+Tiger and Jack were both at the control panel dictating records for
+filing. They looked up in surprise as the Red Doctor burst into the
+room. Fuzzy's platform was hanging empty, gently swaying back and forth.
+Dal peered frantically around the room. There was no sign of the small
+pink creature.
+
+"Where is he?" he demanded. "What's happened to Fuzzy?"
+
+Jack shrugged in disgust. "He's up on his perch. Where else?"
+
+"He's not either! Where is he?"
+
+Jack blinked at the empty perch. "He was there just a minute ago. I saw
+him."
+
+"Well, he's not there now, and something's wrong!" In a panic, Dal began
+searching the room, knocking over stools, scattering piles of paper,
+peering in every corner where Fuzzy might be concealed.
+
+For a moment the others sat frozen, watching him. Then Tiger jumped to
+his feet. "Hold it, hold it! He probably just wandered off for a minute.
+He does that all the time."
+
+"No, it's something worse than that." Dal was almost choking on the
+words. "Something terrible has happened. I know it."
+
+Jack Alvarez tossed the recorder down in disgust. "You and your
+miserable pet!" he said. "I knew we shouldn't have kept him on board."
+
+Dal stared at Jack. Suddenly all the anger and bitterness of the past
+few weeks could no longer be held in. Without warning he hurled himself
+at the Blue Doctor's throat. "Where is he?" he cried. "What have you
+done with him? What have you done to Fuzzy? You've done something to
+him! You've hated him every minute just like you hate me, only he's
+easier to pick on. Now where is he? What have you done to him?"
+
+Jack staggered back, trying to push the furious little Garvian away.
+"Wait a minute! Get away from me! I didn't do anything!"
+
+"You did too! Where is he?"
+
+"I don't know." Jack struggled to break free, but there was powerful
+strength in Dal's fingers for all his slight body build. "I tell you, he
+was here just a minute ago."
+
+Dal felt a hand grip his collar then, and Tiger was dragging them apart
+like two dogs in a fight. "Now stop this!" he roared, holding them both
+at arm's length. "I said _stop it_! Jack didn't do anything to Fuzzy,
+he's been sitting here with me ever since you went back to the cubicle.
+He hasn't even budged."
+
+"But he's _gone_," Dal panted. "Something's happened to him. I _know_
+it."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"I--I just know. I can feel it."
+
+"All right, then let's find him," Tiger said. "He's got to be somewhere
+on the ship. If he's in trouble, we're wasting time fighting."
+
+Tiger let go, and Jack brushed off his shirt, his face very white. "I
+saw him just a little while ago," he said. "He was sitting up on that
+silly perch watching us, and then swinging back and forth and swinging
+over to that cabinet and back."
+
+"Well, let's get started looking," Tiger said.
+
+They fanned out, with Jack still muttering to himself, and searched the
+control room inch by inch. There was no sign of Fuzzy. Dal had control
+of himself now, but he searched with a frantic intensity. "He's not in
+here," he said at last, "he must have gone out somewhere."
+
+"There was only one door open," Tiger said. "The one you just came
+through, from the rear corridor. Dal, you search the computer room.
+Jack, check the lab and I'll go back to the reactors."
+
+They started searching the compartments off the rear corridor. For ten
+minutes there was no sound in the ship but the occasional slamming of a
+hatch, the grate of a desk drawer, the bang of a cabinet door. Dal
+worked through the maze of cubby-holes in the computer room with growing
+hopelessness. The frightening sense of loneliness and loss in his mind
+was overwhelming; he was almost physically ill. The warm, comfortable
+feeling of _contact_ that he had always had before with Fuzzy was gone.
+As the minutes passed, hopelessness gave way to despair.
+
+Then Jack gave a hoarse cry from the lab. Dal tripped and stumbled in
+his haste to get down the corridor, and almost collided with Tiger at
+the lab door.
+
+"I think we're too late," Jack said. "He's gotten into the formalin."
+
+He lifted one of the glass beakers down from the shelf to the work
+bench. It was obvious what had happened. Fuzzy had gone exploring and
+had found the laboratory a fascinating place. Several of the reagents
+bottles had been knocked over as if he had been sampling them. The glass
+lid to the beaker of formalin which was kept for tissue specimens had
+been pushed aside just enough to admit the little creature's two-inch
+girth. Now Fuzzy lay in the bottom of the beaker, immersed in formalin,
+a formless, shapeless blob of sickly gray jelly.
+
+"Are you sure it's formalin?" Dal asked.
+
+Jack poured off the fluid, and the acrid smell of formaldehyde that
+filled the room answered the question. "It's no good, Dal," he said,
+almost gently. "The stuff destroys protein, and that's about all he was.
+I'm sorry--I was beginning to like the little punk, even if he did get
+on my nerves. But he picked the one thing to fall into that could kill
+him. Unless he had some way to set up a protective barrier...."
+
+Dal took the beaker. "Get me some saline," he said tightly. "And some
+nutrient broth."
+
+Jack pulled out two jugs and poured their contents into an empty beaker.
+Dal popped the tiny limp form into the beaker and began massaging it.
+Layers of damaged tissue peeled off in his hand, but he continued
+massaging and changing the solutions, first saline, then nutrient broth.
+"Get me some sponges and a blade."
+
+Tiger brought them in. Carefully Dal began debriding the damaged outer
+layers. Jack and Tiger watched; then Jack said, "Look, there's a tinge
+of pink in the middle."
+
+Slowly the faint pink in the center grew more ruddy. Dal changed
+solutions again, and sank down on a stool. "I think he'll make it," he
+said. "He has enormous regenerative powers as long as any fragment of
+him is left." He looked up at Jack who was still watching the creature
+in the beaker almost solicitously. "I guess I made a fool of myself back
+there when I jumped you."
+
+Jack's face hardened, as though he had been caught off guard. "I guess
+you did, all right."
+
+"Well, I'm sorry. I just couldn't think straight. It was the first time
+I'd ever been--apart from him."
+
+"I still say he doesn't belong aboard," Jack said. "This is a medical
+ship, not a menagerie. And if you ever lay your hands on me again,
+you'll wish you hadn't."
+
+"I said I was sorry," Dal said.
+
+"I heard you," Jack said. "I just don't believe you, that's all."
+
+He gave Fuzzy a final glance, and then headed back to the control room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fuzzy recovered, a much abashed and subdued Fuzzy, clinging timorously
+to Dal's shoulder and refusing to budge for three days, but apparently
+basically unharmed by his inadvertent swim in the deadly formalin bath.
+Presently he seemed to forget the experience altogether, and once again
+took his perch on the platform in the control room.
+
+But Dal did not forget. He said little to Tiger and Jack, but the
+incident had shaken him severely. For as long as he could remember, he
+had always had Fuzzy close at hand. He had never before in his life
+experienced the dreadful feeling of emptiness and desertion, the almost
+paralyzing fear and helplessness that he had felt when Fuzzy had lost
+contact with him. It had seemed as though a vital part of him had
+suddenly been torn away, and the memory of the panic that followed sent
+chills down his back and woke him up trembling from his sleep. He was
+ashamed of his unwarranted attack on Jack, yet even this seemed
+insignificant in comparison to the powerful fear that had been driving
+him.
+
+Happily, the Blue Doctor chose to let the matter rest where it was, and
+if anything, seemed more willing than before to be friendly. For the
+first time he seemed to take an active interest in Fuzzy, "chatting"
+with him when he thought no one was around, and bringing him occasional
+tid-bits of food after meals were over.
+
+Once more life on the _Lancet_ settled back to routine, only to have it
+shattered by an incident of quite a different nature. It was just after
+they had left a small planet in the Procyon system, one of the routine
+check-in points, that they made contact with the Garvian trading ship.
+
+Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before the signals
+came in, and could hardly contain his excitement. He had not seen a
+fellow countryman for years except for an occasional dull luncheon with
+the Garvian ambassador to Hospital Earth during medical school days. The
+thought of walking the corridors of a Garvian trading ship again brought
+an overwhelming wave of homesickness. He was so excited he could hardly
+wait for Jack to complete the radio-sighting formalities. "What ship is
+she?" he wanted to know. "What house?"
+
+Jack handed him the message transcript. "The ship is the _Teegar_," he
+said. "Flagship of the SinSin trading fleet. They want permission to
+approach us."
+
+Dal let out a whoop. "Then it's a space trader, and a big one. You've
+never seen ships like these before."
+
+Tiger joined them, staring at the message transcript. "A SinSin ship!
+Send them the word, Jack, and be quick, before they get disgusted and
+move on."
+
+Jack sent out the approach authorization, and they watched with growing
+excitement as the great trading vessel began its close-approach
+maneuvers.
+
+The name of the house of SinSin was famous throughout the galaxy. It was
+one of the oldest and largest of the great trading firms that had built
+Garv II into its position of leadership in the Confederation, and the
+SinSin ships had penetrated to every corner of the galaxy, to every
+known planet harboring an intelligent life-form.
+
+Tiger and Jack had seen the multitudes of exotic products in the
+Hospital Earth stores that came from the great Garvian ships on their
+frequent visits. But this was more than a planetary trader loaded with a
+few items for a single planet. The space traders roamed from star system
+to star system, their holds filled with treasures beyond number. Such
+ships as these might be out from Garv II for decades at a time,
+tempting any ship they met with the magnificent variety of wares they
+carried.
+
+Slowly the trader approached, and Dal took the speaker, addressing the
+commander of the _Teegar_ in Garvian. "This is the General Practice
+Patrol Ship _Lancet_," he said, "out from Hospital Earth with three
+physicians aboard, including a countryman of yours."
+
+"Is that Dal Timgar?" the reply came back. "By the Seven Moons! We'd
+heard that there was now a Garvian physician, and couldn't believe our
+ears. Come aboard, all of you, you'll be welcome. We'll send over a
+lifeboat!"
+
+The _Teegar_ was near now, a great gleaming ship with the sign of the
+house of SinSin on her hull. A lifeboat sprang from a launching rack and
+speared across to the _Lancet_. Moments later the three doctors were
+climbing into the sleek little vessel and moving across the void of
+space to the huge Garvian ship.
+
+It was like stepping from a jungle outpost village into a magnificent,
+glittering city. The Garvian ship was enormous; she carried a crew of
+several hundred, and the wealth and luxury of the ship took the
+Earthmen's breath away. The cabins and lounges were paneled with
+expensive fabrics and rare woods, the furniture inlaid with precious
+metals. Down the long corridors goods of the traders were laid out in
+resplendent display, surpassing the richest show cases in the shops on
+Hospital Earth.
+
+They received a royal welcome from the commander of the _Teegar_, an
+aged, smiling little Garvian with a pink fuzz-ball on his shoulder that
+could have been Fuzzy's twin. He bowed low to Tiger and Jack, leading
+them into the reception lounge where a great table was spread with foods
+and pastries of all varieties. Then he turned to Dal and embraced him
+like a long-lost brother. "Your father Jai Timgar has long been an
+honored friend of the house of SinSin, and anyone of the house of Timgar
+is the same as my own son and my son's son! But this collar! This cuff!
+Is it really possible that a man of Garv has become a physician of
+Hospital Earth?"
+
+Dal touched Fuzzy to the commander's fuzz-ball in the ancient Garvian
+greeting. "It's possible, and true," he said. "I studied there. I am the
+Red Doctor on this patrol ship."
+
+"Ah, but this is good," the commander said. "What better way to draw our
+worlds together, eh? But come, you must look and see what we have in our
+storerooms, feast your eyes on the splendors we carry. For all of you, a
+thousand wonders are to be found here."
+
+Jack hesitated as the commander led them back toward the display
+corridors. "We'd be glad to see the ship, but you should know that
+patrol ship physicians have little money to spend."
+
+"Who speaks of money?" the commander cried. "Did I speak of it? Come and
+look! Money is nothing. The Garvian traders are not mere money-changers.
+Look and enjoy; if there is something that strikes your eye, something
+that would fulfill the desires of your heart, it will be yours." He gave
+Dal a smile and a sly wink. "Surely our brother here has told you many
+times of the wonders to be seen in a space trader, and terms can be
+arranged that will make any small purchase a painless pleasure."
+
+He led them off, like a head of state conducting visiting dignitaries on
+a tour, with a retinue of Garvian underlings trailing behind them. For
+two delirious hours they wandered the corridors of the great ship,
+staring hungrily at the dazzling displays. They had been away from
+Hospital Earth and its shops and stores for months; now it seemed they
+were walking through an incredible treasure-trove stocked with
+everything that they could possibly have wanted.
+
+For Jack there was a dress uniform, specially tailored for a physician
+in the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the insignia woven into the cloth with
+gold and platinum thread. Reluctantly he turned away from it, a luxury
+he could never dream of affording. For Tiger, who had been muttering for
+weeks about getting out of condition in the sedentary life of the ship,
+there was a set of bar bells and gymnasium equipment ingeniously
+designed to collapse into a unit no larger than one foot square, yet
+opening out into a completely equipped gym. Dal's eyes glittered at the
+new sets of surgical instruments, designed to the most rigid Hospital
+Earth specifications, which appeared almost without his asking to see
+them. There were clothes and games, precious stones and exotic rings,
+watches set with Arcturian dream-stones, and boots inlaid with silver.
+
+They made their way through the corridors, reluctant to leave one
+display for the next. Whenever something caught their eyes, the
+commander snapped his fingers excitedly, and the item was unobtrusively
+noted down by one of the underlings. Finally, exhausted and glutted just
+from looking, they turned back toward the reception room.
+
+"The things are beautiful," Tiger said wistfully, "but impossible.
+Still, you were very kind to take your time--"
+
+"Time? I have nothing but time." The commander smiled again at Dal. "And
+there is an old Garvian proverb that to the wise man 'impossible' has no
+meaning. Wait, you will see!"
+
+They came out into the lounge, and the doctors stopped short in
+amazement. Spread out before them were all of the items that had
+captured their interest earlier.
+
+"But this is ridiculous," Jack said staring at the dress uniform. "We
+couldn't possibly buy these things, it would take our salaries for
+twenty years to pay for them."
+
+"Have we mentioned price even once?" the commander protested. "You are
+the crewmates of one of our own people! We would not dream of setting
+prices that we would normally set for such trifles as these. And as for
+terms, you have no worry. Take the goods aboard your ship, they are
+already yours. We have drawn up contracts for you which require no
+payment whatever for five years, and then payments of only a fiftieth of
+the value for each successive year. And for each of you, with the
+compliments of the house of SinSin, a special gift at no charge
+whatever."
+
+He placed in Jack's hands a small box with the lid tipped back. Against
+a black velvet lining lay a silver star, and the official insignia of a
+Star Physician in the Blue Service. "You cannot wear it yet, of course,"
+the commander said. "But one day you will need it."
+
+Jack blinked at the jewel-like star. "You are very kind," he said. "I--I
+mean perhaps--" He looked at Tiger, and then at the display of goods on
+the table. "Perhaps there are _some_ things--"
+
+Already two of the Garvian crewmen were opening the lock to the
+lifeboat, preparing to move the goods aboard. Then Dal Timgar spoke up
+sharply. "I think you'd better wait a moment," he said.
+
+"And for you," the commander continued, turning to Dal so smoothly that
+there seemed no break in his voice at all, "as one of our own people,
+and an honored son of Jai Timgar, who has been kind to the house of
+SinSin for many years, I have something out of the ordinary. I'm sure
+your crewmates would not object to a special gift at my personal
+expense."
+
+The commander lifted a scarf from the table and revealed the glittering
+set of surgical instruments, neatly displayed in a velvet-lined carrying
+case. The commander took it up from the table and thrust it into Dal's
+hands. "It is yours, my friend. And for this, there will be no contract
+whatever."
+
+Dal stared down at the instruments. They were beautiful. He longed just
+to touch them, to hold them in his hands, but he shook his head and set
+the case back on the table. He looked up at Tiger and Jack. "You should
+be warned that the prices on these goods are four times what they ought
+to be, and the deferred-payment contracts he wants you to sign will
+permit as much as 24 per cent interest on the unpaid balance, with no
+closing-out clause. That means you would be paying many times the stated
+price for the goods before the contract is closed. You can go ahead and
+sign if you want but understand what you're signing."
+
+The Garvian commander stared at him, and then shook his head, laughing.
+"Of course your friend is not serious," he said. "These prices can be
+compared on any planet and you will see their fairness. Here, read the
+contracts, see what they say and decide for yourselves." He held out a
+sheaf of papers.
+
+"The contracts may sound well enough," Dal said, "but I'm telling you
+what they actually say."
+
+Jack looked stricken. "But surely just one or two things--"
+
+Tiger shook his head. "Dal knows what he's talking about. I don't think
+we'd better buy anything at all."
+
+The Garvian commander turned to Dal angrily. "What are you telling them?
+There is nothing false in these contracts!"
+
+"I didn't say there was. I just can't see them taking a beating with
+their eyes shut, that's all. Your contracts are legal enough, but the
+prices and terms are piracy, and you know it."
+
+The commander glared at him for a moment. Then he turned away
+scornfully. "So what I have heard is true, after all," he said. "You
+really have thrown in your lot with these pill-peddlers, these idiots
+from Earth who can't even wipe their noses without losing in a trade."
+He signaled the lifeboat pilot. "Take them back to their ship, we're
+wasting our time. There are better things to do than to deal with
+traitors."
+
+The trip back to the _Lancet_ was made in silence. Dal could sense the
+pilot's scorn as he dumped them off in their entrance lock, and dashed
+back to the _Teegar_ with the lifeboat. Gloomily Jack and Tiger followed
+Dal into the control room, a drab little cubby-hole compared to the
+_Teegar_'s lounge.
+
+"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Jack said finally, looking up at
+Dal. "But the way that guy slammed you, I wish we'd never gone."
+
+"I know," Dal said. "The commander just thought he saw a perfect setup.
+He figured you'd never question the contracts if I backed him up."
+
+"It would have been easy enough. Why didn't you?"
+
+Dal looked at the Blue Doctor. "Maybe I just don't like people who give
+away surgical sets," he said. "Remember, I'm not a Garvian trader any
+more. I'm a doctor from Hospital Earth."
+
+Moments later, the great Garvian ship was gone, and the red light was
+blinking on the call board. Tiger started tracking down the call while
+Jack went back to work on the daily log book and Dal set up food for
+dinner. The pleasant dreams were over; they were back in the harness of
+patrol ship doctors once again.
+
+Jack and Dal were finishing dinner when Tiger came back with a puzzled
+frown on his face. "Finally traced that call. At least I think I did.
+Anybody ever hear of a star called 31 Brucker?"
+
+"Brucker?" Jack said. "It isn't on the list of contracts. What's the
+trouble?"
+
+"I'm not sure," Tiger said. "I'm not even certain if it's a call or not.
+Come on up front and see what you think."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+PLAGUE!
+
+
+In the control room the interstellar radio and teletype-translator were
+silent. The red light on the call board was still blinking; Tiger turned
+it off with a snap. "Here's the message that just came in, as near as I
+can make out," he said, "and if you can make sense of it, you're way
+ahead of me."
+
+The message was a single word, teletyped in the center of a blue
+dispatch sheet:
+
+      GREETINGS
+
+"This is all?" Jack said.
+
+"That's every bit of it. They repeated it half a dozen times, just like
+that."
+
+"_Who_ repeated it?" Dal asked. "Where are the identification symbols?"
+
+"There weren't any," said Tiger. "Our own computer designated 31 Brucker
+from the direction and intensity of the signal. The question is, what do
+we do?"
+
+The message stared up at them cryptically. Dal shook his head. "Doesn't
+give us much to go on, that's certain. Even the location could be wrong
+if the signal came in on an odd frequency or from a long distance. Let's
+beam back at the same direction and intensity and see what happens."
+
+Tiger took the earphones and speaker, and turned the signal beam to
+coincide with the direction of the incoming message.
+
+"We have your contact. Can you hear me? Who are you and what do you
+want?"
+
+There was a long delay and they thought the contact was lost. Then a
+voice came whispering through the static. "Where is your ship now? Are
+you near to us?"
+
+"We need your co-ordinates in order to tell," Tiger said. "Who are you?"
+
+Again a long pause and a howl of static. Then: "If you are far away it
+will be too late. We have no time left, we are dying...."
+
+Abruptly the voice message broke off and co-ordinates began coming
+through between bursts of static. Tiger scribbled them down, piecing
+them together through several repetitions. "Check these out fast," he
+told Jack. "This sounds like real trouble." He tossed Dal another pair
+of earphones and turned back to the speaker. "Are you a contract
+planet?" he signaled. "Do we have a survey on you?"
+
+There was a much longer pause. Then the voice came back, "No, we have no
+contract. We are all dying, but if you must have a contract to come...."
+
+"Not at all," Tiger sent back. "We're coming. Keep your frequency open.
+We will contact again when we are closer."
+
+He tossed down the earphones and looked excitedly at Dal. "Did you hear
+that? A planet calling for help, with no Hospital Earth contract!"
+
+"They sound desperate," Dal said. "We'd better go there, contract or no
+contract."
+
+"Of course we'll go there, you idiot. See if Jack has those co-ordinates
+charted, and start digging up information on them, everything you can
+find. We need all of the dope we can get and we need it fast. This is
+our golden chance to seal a contract with a new planet."
+
+All three of the doctors fell to work trying to identify the mysterious
+caller. Dal began searching the information file for data on 31 Brucker,
+punching all the reference tags he could think of, as well as the
+galactic co-ordinates of the planet. He could hardly control his fingers
+as the tapes with possible references began plopping down into the
+slots. Tiger was right; this was almost too good to be true. When a
+planet without a medical service contract called a GPP Ship for help,
+there was always hope that a brand new contract might be signed if the
+call was successful. And no greater honor could come to a patrol craft
+crew than to be the originators of a new contract for Hospital Earth.
+
+But there were problems in dealing with uncontacted planets. Many star
+systems had never been explored by ships of the Confederation. Many
+races, like Earthmen at the time their star-drive was discovered, had no
+inkling of the existence of a Galactic Confederation of worlds. There
+might be no information whatever about the special anatomical and
+physiological characteristics of the inhabitants of an uncontacted
+planet, and often a patrol crew faced insurmountable difficulties,
+coming in blind to solve a medical problem.
+
+Dal had his information gathered first--a disappointingly small amount
+indeed. Among the billions of notes on file in the _Lancet_'s data bank,
+there were only two scraps of data available on the 31 Brucker system.
+
+"Is this all you could find?" Tiger said, staring at the information
+slips.
+
+"There's just nothing else there," Dal said. "This one is a description
+and classification of the star, and it doesn't sound like the one who
+wrote it had even been near it."
+
+"He hadn't," Tiger said. "This is a routine radio-telescopic survey
+report. The star is a red giant. Big and cold, with three--possibly
+four--planets inside the outer envelope of the star itself, and only one
+outside it. Nothing about satellites. None of the planets thought to be
+habitable by man. What's the other item?"
+
+"An exploratory report on the outer planet, done eight hundred years
+ago. Says it's an Earth-type planet, and not much else. Gives reference
+to the full report in the Confederation files. Not a word about an
+intelligent race living there."
+
+"Well, maybe Jack's got a bit more for us," Tiger said. "If the place
+has been explored, there must be _some_ information about the
+inhabitants."
+
+But Jack also came up with a blank. Central Records on Hospital Earth
+sent back a physical description of a tiny outer planet of the star,
+with a thin oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, very little water, and enough
+methane mixed in to make the atmosphere deadly to Earthmen.
+
+"Then there's never been a medical service contract?" Tiger asked.
+
+"Contract!" Jack said. "It doesn't even say there are any people there.
+Not a word about any kind of life form."
+
+"Well, that's ridiculous," Dal said. "If we're getting messages from
+there, somebody must be sending them. But if a Confederation ship
+explored there, there's a way to find out. How soon can we convert to
+star-drive?"
+
+"As soon as we can get strapped down," Tiger said.
+
+"Then send our reconversion co-ordinates to the Confederation
+headquarters on Garv II and request the Confederation records on the
+place."
+
+Jack stared at him. "You mean just ask to see Confederation records? We
+can't do that, they'd skin us alive. Those records are closed to
+everyone except full members of the Confederation."
+
+"Tell them it's an emergency," Dal said. "If they want to be legal about
+it, give them my Confederation serial number. Garv II is a member of the
+Confederation, and I'm a native-born citizen."
+
+Tiger got the request off while Jack and Dal strapped down for the
+conversion to Koenig drive. Five minutes later Tiger joined them,
+grinning from ear to ear. "Didn't even have to pull rank," he said.
+"When they started to argue, I just told them it was an emergency, and
+if they didn't let us see any records they had, we would file their
+refusal against claims that might come up later. They quit arguing.
+We'll have the records as soon as we reconvert."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The star that they were seeking was a long distance from the current
+location of the _Lancet_. The ship was in Koenig drive for hours before
+it reconverted, and even Dal was beginning to feel the first pangs of
+drive-sickness before they felt the customary jolting vibration of the
+change to normal space, and saw bright stars again in the viewscreen.
+
+The star called 31 Brucker was close then. It was indeed a red giant;
+long tenuous plumes of gas spread out for hundreds of millions of miles
+on all sides of its glowing red core. This mammoth star did not look so
+cold now, as they stared at it in the viewscreen, yet among the family
+of stars it was a cold, dying giant with only a few moments of life left
+on the astronomical time scale. From the _Lancet_'s position, no
+planets at all were visible to the naked eye, but with the telescope
+Jack soon found two inside the star's envelope of gas and one tiny one
+outside. They would have to be searched for, and the one that they were
+hoping to reach located before centering and landing maneuvers could be
+begun.
+
+Already the radio was chattering with two powerful signals coming in.
+One came from the Galactic Confederation headquarters on Garv II; the
+other was a good clear signal from very close range, unquestionably
+beamed to them from the planet in distress.
+
+They watched as the Confederation report came clacking off the teletype,
+and they stared at it unbelieving.
+
+"It just doesn't make sense," Jack said. "There _must_ be intelligent
+creatures down there. They're sending radio signals."
+
+"Then why a report like this?" Tiger said. "This was filed by a routine
+exploratory ship that came here eight hundred years ago. You can't tell
+me that any intelligent race could develop from scratch in less than
+eight centuries' time."
+
+Dal picked up the report and read it again. "This red giant star," he
+read, "was studied in the usual fashion. It was found to have seven
+planets, all but one lying within the tenuous outer gas envelope of the
+star itself. The seventh planet has an atmosphere of its own, and
+travels an orbit well outside the star surface. This planet was selected
+for landing and exploration."
+
+Following this was a long, detailed and exceedingly dull description of
+the step-by-step procedure followed by a Confederation exploratory ship
+making a first landing on a barren planet. There was a description of
+the atmosphere, the soil surface, the land masses and major water
+bodies. Physically, the planet was a desert, hot and dry, and barren of
+vegetation excepting in two or three areas of jungle along the equator.
+"The planet is inhabited by numerous small unintelligent animal species
+which seem well-adapted to the semi-arid conditions. Of higher animals
+and mammals only two species were discovered, and of these the most
+highly developed was an erect biped with an integrated central nervous
+system and the intelligence level of a Garvian _drachma_."
+
+"How small is that?" Jack said.
+
+"Idiot-level," Dal said glumly. "I.Q. of about 20 on the human scale. I
+guess the explorers weren't much impressed; they didn't even put the
+planet down for a routine colonization survey."
+
+"Well, _something_ has happened down there since then. Idiots can't
+build interstellar radios." Jack turned to Tiger. "Are you getting
+them?"
+
+Tiger nodded. A voice was coming over the speaker, hesitant and
+apologetic, using the common tongue of the Galactic Confederation. "How
+soon can you come?" the voice was asking clearly, still with the sound
+of great reticence. "There is not much time."
+
+"But who are you?" Tiger asked. "What's wrong down there?"
+
+"We are sick, dying, thousands of us. But if you have other work that is
+more pressing, we would not want to delay you--"
+
+Jack shook his head, frowning. "I don't get this," he said. "What are
+they afraid of?"
+
+Tiger spoke into the microphone again. "We will be glad to help, but we
+need information about you. You have our position--can you send up a
+spokesman to tell us your problem?"
+
+A long pause, and then the voice came back wearily. "It will be done.
+Stand by to receive him."
+
+Tiger snapped off the radio receiver and looked up triumphantly at the
+others. "Now we're getting somewhere. If the people down there can send
+a ship out with a spokesman to tell us about their troubles, we've got a
+chance to sew up a contract, and that could mean a Star for every one of
+us."
+
+"Yes, but who are they?" Dal said. "And where were they when the
+Confederation ship was here?"
+
+"I don't know," Jack said, "but I'll bet you both that we have quite a
+time finding out."
+
+"Why?" Tiger said. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean we'd better be very careful here," Jack said darkly. "I don't
+know about you, but I think this whole business has a very strange
+smell."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was nothing strange about the Bruckian ship when it finally came
+into view. It was a standard design, surface-launching interplanetary
+craft, with separated segments on either side suggesting atomic engines.
+They saw the side jets flare as the ship maneuvered to come in alongside
+the _Lancet_.
+
+Grapplers were thrown out to bind the emissary ship to the _Lancet_'s
+hull, and Jack threw the switches to open the entrance lock and
+decontamination chambers. They had taken pains to describe the interior
+atmosphere of the patrol ship and warn the spokesman to keep himself in
+a sealed pressure suit. On the intercom viewscreens they saw the small
+suited figure cross from his ship into the _Lancet_'s lock, and watched
+as the sprays of formalin washed down the outside of the suit.
+
+Moments later the creature stepped out of the decontamination chamber.
+He was small and humanoid, with tiny fragile bones and pale, hairless
+skin. He stood no more than four feet high. More than anything else, he
+looked like a very intelligent monkey with a diminutive space suit
+fitting his fragile body. When he spoke the words came through the
+translator in English; but Dal recognized the flowing syllables of the
+universal language of the Galactic Confederation.
+
+"How do you know the common tongue?" he said. "There is no record of
+your people in our Confederation, yet you use our own universal
+language."
+
+The Bruckian nodded. "We know the language well. My people dread outside
+contact--it is a racial characteristic--but we hear the Confederation
+broadcasts and have learned to understand the common tongue." The
+space-suited stranger looked at the doctors one by one. "We also know of
+the good works of the ships from Hospital Earth, and now we appeal to
+you."
+
+"Why?" Jack said. "You gave us no information, nothing to go on."
+
+"There was no time," the creature said. "Death is stalking our land, and
+the people are falling at their plows. Thousands of us are dying, tens
+of thousands. Even I am infected and soon will be dead. Unless you can
+find a way to help us quickly, it will be too late, and my people will
+be wiped from the face of the planet."
+
+Jack looked grimly at Tiger and Dal. "Well," he said, "I guess that
+answers our question, all right. It looks as if we have a plague planet
+on our hands, whether we like it or not."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+THE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE
+
+
+Slowly and patiently they drew the story from the emissary from the
+seventh planet of 31 Brucker.
+
+The small, monkey-like creature was painfully shy; he required constant
+reassurance that the doctors did not mind being called, that they wanted
+to help, and that a contract was not necessary in an emergency. Even at
+that the spokesman was reluctant to give details about the plague and
+about his stricken people. Every bit of information had to be extracted
+with patient questioning.
+
+By tacit consent the doctors did not even mention the strange fact that
+this very planet had been explored by a Confederation ship eight hundred
+years before and no sign of intelligent life had been found. The little
+creature before them seemed ready to turn and bolt at the first hint of
+attack or accusation. But bit by bit, a picture of the current situation
+on the planet developed.
+
+Whoever they were and wherever they had been when the Confederation ship
+had landed, there was unquestionably an intelligent race now inhabiting
+this lonely planet in the outer reaches of the solar system of 31
+Brucker. There was no doubt of their advancement; a few well-selected
+questions revealed that they had control of atomic power, a working
+understanding of the nature and properties of contra-terrene matter, and
+a workable star drive operating on the same basic principle as Earth's
+Koenig drive but which the Bruckians had never really used because of
+their shyness and fear of contact with other races. They also had an
+excellent understanding, thanks to their eavesdropping on Confederation
+interstellar radio chatter, of the existence and functions of the
+Galactic Confederation of worlds, and of Hospital Earth's work as
+physician to the galaxy.
+
+But about Bruckian anatomy, physiology or biochemistry, the little
+emissary would tell them nothing. He seemed genuinely frightened when
+they pressed him about the physical make-up of his people, as though
+their questions were somehow scraping a raw nerve. He insisted that his
+people knew nothing about the nature of the plague that had stricken
+them, and the doctors could not budge him an inch from his stand.
+
+But a plague had certainly struck.
+
+It had begun six months before, striking great masses of the people. It
+had walked the streets of the cities and the hills and valleys of the
+countryside. First three out of ten had been stricken, then four, then
+five. The course of the disease, once started, was invariably the same:
+first illness, weakness, loss of energy and interest, then gradually a
+fading away of intelligent responses, leaving thousands of creatures
+walking blank-faced and idiot-like about the streets and countryside.
+Ultimately even the ability to take food was lost, and after an interval
+of a week or so, death invariably ensued.
+
+Finally the doctors retired to the control room for a puzzled
+conference. "It's got to be an organism of some sort that's doing it,"
+Dal said. "There couldn't be an illness like this that wasn't caused by
+some kind of a parasitic germ or virus."
+
+"But how do we know?" Jack said. "We know nothing about these people
+except what we can see. We're going to have to do a complete biochemical
+and medical survey before we can hope to do anything."
+
+"But we aren't equipped for a real survey," Tiger protested.
+
+"We've got to do it anyway," Jack said. "If we can just learn enough to
+be sure it's an infectious illness, we might stand a chance of finding a
+drug that will cure it. Or at least a way to immunize the ones that
+aren't infected yet. If this is a virus infection, we might only need to
+find an antibody for inoculation to stop it in its tracks. But first we
+need a good look at the planet and some more of the people--both
+infected and healthy ones. We'd better make arrangements as fast as we
+can."
+
+An hour later they had reached an agreement with the Bruckian emissary.
+The _Lancet_ would be permitted to land on the planet's surface as soon
+as the doctors were satisfied that it was safe. For the time being the
+initial landings would be made in the patrol ship's lifeboats, with the
+_Lancet_ in orbit a thousand miles above the surface. Unquestionably the
+first job was diagnosis, discovering the exact nature of the illness and
+studying the afflicted people. This responsibility rested squarely on
+Jack's shoulders; he was the diagnostician, and Dal and Tiger willingly
+yielded to him in organizing the program.
+
+It was decided that Jack and Tiger would visit the planet's surface at
+once, while Dal stayed on the ship and set up the reagents and
+examining techniques that would be needed to measure the basic physical
+and biochemical characteristics of the Bruckians.
+
+Yet in all the excitement of planning, Dal could not throw off the
+lingering shadow of doubt in his mind, some instinctive voice of caution
+that seemed to say _watch out, be careful, go slowly! This may not be
+what it seems to be; you may be walking into a trap...._
+
+But it was only a faint voice, and easy to thrust aside as the planning
+went ahead full speed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It did not take very long for the crew of the _Lancet_ to realize that
+there was something very odd indeed about the small, self-effacing
+inhabitants of 31 Brucker VII.
+
+In fact, "odd" was not really quite the proper word for these creatures
+at all. No one knew better than the doctors of Hospital Earth that
+oddness was the rule among the various members of the galactic
+civilization. All sorts and varieties of life-forms had been discovered,
+described and studied, each with its singular differences, each with
+certain similarities, and each quite "odd" in reference to any of the
+others.
+
+In Dal this awareness of the oddness and difference of other races was
+particularly acute. He knew that to Tiger and Jack he himself seemed
+odd, both anatomically and in other ways. His fine gray fur and his
+four-fingered hands set him apart from them--he would never be mistaken
+for an Earthman, even in the densest fog. But these were comprehensible
+differences. His close attachment to Fuzzy was something else, and still
+seemed beyond their ability to understand.
+
+He had spent one whole evening patiently trying to make Jack understand
+just how his attachment to the little pink creature was more than just
+the fondness of a man for his dog.
+
+"Well, what would you call it, then?"
+
+"Symbiosis is probably the best word for it," Dal had replied. "Two
+life-forms live together, and each one helps the other--that's all
+symbiosis is. Together each one is better off than either one would be
+alone. We all of us live in symbiosis with the bacteria in our digestive
+tracts, don't we? We provide them with a place to live and grow, and
+they help us digest our food. It's a kind of a partnership--and Fuzzy
+and I are partners in the same sort of way."
+
+Jack had argued, and then lost his temper, and finally grudgingly agreed
+that he supposed he would have to tolerate it even if it didn't make
+sense to him.
+
+But the creatures on 31 Brucker VII were "odd" far beyond the reasonable
+limits of oddness--so far beyond it that the doctors could not believe
+the things that their eyes and their instruments were telling them.
+
+When Tiger and Jack came back to the _Lancet_ after their first trip to
+the planet's surface, they were visibly shaken. Geographically, they had
+found it just as it had been described in the exploratory reports--a
+barren, desert land with only a few large islands of vegetation in the
+equatorial regions.
+
+"But the people!" Jack said. "They don't fit into _any_ kind of pattern.
+They've got houses--at least I guess you'd call them houses--but every
+one of them is like every other one, and they're all crammed together in
+tight little bunches, with nothing for miles in between. They've got an
+advanced technology, a good communications system, manufacturing
+techniques and everything, but they just don't use them."
+
+"It's more than that," Tiger said. "They don't seem to _want_ to use
+them."
+
+"Well, it doesn't add up, to me," Jack said. "There are thousands of
+towns and cities down there, all of them miles apart, and yet they had
+to go dig an old rusty jet scooter out of storage and get the motor
+rebuilt just specially to take us from one place to another. I know
+things can get disorganized with a plague in the land, but this plague
+just hasn't been going on that long."
+
+"What about the sickness?" Dal asked. "Is it as bad as it sounded?"
+
+"Worse, if anything," Tiger said gloomily. "They're dying by the
+thousands, and I hope we got those suits of ours decontaminated, because
+I don't want any part of this disease."
+
+Graphically, he described the conditions they had found among the
+stricken people. There was no question that a plague was stalking the
+land. In the rutted mud roads of the villages and towns the dead were
+piled in gutters, and in all of the cities a deathly stillness hung over
+the streets. Those who had not yet succumbed to the illness were nursing
+and feeding the sick ones, but these unaffected ones were growing
+scarcer and scarcer. The whole living population seemed resigned to
+hopelessness, hardly noticing the strangers from the patrol ship.
+
+But worst of all were those in the final stages of the disease,
+wandering vaguely about the street, their faces blank and their jaws
+slack as though they were living in a silent world of their own, cut off
+from contact with the rest. "One of them almost ran into me," Jack said.
+"I was right in front of him, and he didn't see me or hear me."
+
+"But don't they have _any_ knowledge of antisepsis or isolation?" Dal
+asked.
+
+Tiger shook his head. "Not that we could see. They don't know what's
+causing this sickness. They think that it's some kind of curse, and
+they never dreamed that it might be kept from spreading."
+
+Already Tiger and Jack had taken the first routine steps to deal with
+the sickness. They gave orders to move the unaffected people in every
+town and village into isolated barracks and stockades. For half a day
+Tiger tried to explain ways to prevent the spread of a bacteria or
+virus-borne disease. The people had stared at him as if he were talking
+gibberish; finally he gave up trying to explain, and just laid down
+rules which the people were instructed to follow. Together they had
+collected standard testing specimens of body fluids and tissue from both
+healthy and afflicted Bruckians, and come back to the _Lancet_ for a
+breather.
+
+Now all three doctors began work on the specimens. Cultures were
+inoculated with specimens from respiratory tract, blood and tissue taken
+from both sick and well. Half a dozen fatal cases were brought to the
+ship under specially controlled conditions for autopsy examination, to
+reveal both the normal anatomical characteristics of this strange race
+of people and the damage the disease was doing. Down on the surface
+Tiger had already inoculated a dozen of the healthy ones with various
+radioactive isotopes to help outline the normal metabolism and
+biochemistry of the people. After a short sleep period on the _Lancet_,
+he went back down alone to follow up on these, leaving Dal and Jack to
+carry on the survey work in the ship's lab.
+
+It was a gargantuan task that faced them. They knew that in any race of
+creatures they could not hope to recognize the abnormal unless they knew
+what the normal was. That was the sole reason for the extensive
+biomedical surveys that were done on new contract planets. Under normal
+conditions, a survey crew with specialists in physiology, biochemistry,
+anatomy, radiology, pharmacology and pathology might spend months or
+even years on a new planet gathering base-line information. But here
+there was neither time nor facilities for such a study. Even in the
+twenty-four hours since the patrol ship arrived, the number of dead had
+increased alarmingly.
+
+Alone on the ship, Dal and Jack found themselves working as a well
+organized team. There was no time here for argument or duplicated
+efforts; everything the two doctors did was closely co-ordinated. Jack
+seemed to have forgotten his previous antagonism completely. There was a
+crisis here, and more work than three men could possibly do in the time
+available. "You handle anatomy and pathology," Jack told Dal at the
+beginning. "You can get the picture five times as fast as I can, and
+your pathology slides are better than most commercial ones. I can do the
+best job on the cultures, once I get the growth media all set up."
+
+Bit by bit they divided the labor, checking in with Tiger by radio on
+the results of the isotopes studies he was running on the planet's
+surface. Bit by bit the data was collected, and Earthman and Garvian
+worked more closely than ever before as the task that faced them
+appeared more and more formidable.
+
+But the results of their tests made no sense whatever. Tiger returned to
+the ship after forty-eight hours with circles under his eyes, looking as
+though he had been trampled in a crowd. "No sleep, that's all," he said
+breathlessly as he crawled out of his decontaminated pressure suit. "No
+time for it. I swear I ran those tests a dozen times and I still didn't
+get any answers that made sense."
+
+"The results you were sending up sounded plenty strange," Jack said.
+"What was the trouble?"
+
+"I don't know," Tiger said, "but if we're looking for a biological
+pattern here, we haven't found it yet as far as I can see."
+
+"No, we certainly haven't," Dal exploded. "I thought I was doing
+something wrong somehow, because these blood chemistries I've been doing
+have been ridiculous. I can't even find a normal level for blood sugar,
+and as for the enzyme systems...." He tossed a sheaf of notes down on
+the counter in disgust. "I don't see how these people could even be
+alive, with a botched-up metabolism like this! I've never heard of
+anything like it."
+
+"What kind of pathology did you find?" Tiger wanted to know.
+
+"Nothing," Dal said. "Nothing at all. I did autopsies on the six that
+you brought up here and made slides of every different kind of tissue I
+could find. The anatomy is perfectly clear cut, no objections there.
+These people are very similar to Earth-type monkeys in structure, with
+heart and lungs and vocal cords and all. But I can't find any reason why
+they should be dying. Any luck with the cultures?"
+
+Jack shook his head glumly. "No growth on any of the plates. At first I
+thought I had something going, but if I did, it died, and I can't find
+any sign of it in the filtrates."
+
+"But we've got to have _something_ to work on," Tiger said desperately.
+"Look, there are some things that always measure out the same in _any_
+intelligent creature no matter where he comes from. That's the whole
+basis of galactic medicine. Creatures may develop and adapt in different
+ways, but the basic biochemical reactions are the same."
+
+"Not here, they aren't," Dal said. "Take a look at these tests!"
+
+They carried the heap of notes they had collected out into the control
+room and began sifting and organizing the data, just as a survey team
+would do, trying to match it with the pattern of a thousand other
+living creatures that had previously been studied. Hours passed, and
+they were farther from an answer than when they began.
+
+Because this data did not fit a pattern. It was _different_. No two
+individuals showed the same reactions. In every test the results were
+either flatly impossible or completely the opposite of what was
+expected.
+
+Carefully they retraced their steps, trying to pinpoint what could be
+going wrong.
+
+"There's _got_ to be a laboratory error," Dal said wearily. "We must
+have slipped up somewhere."
+
+"But I don't see where," Jack said. "Let's see those culture tubes
+again. And put on a pot of coffee. I can't even think straight any
+more."
+
+Of the three of them, Jack was beginning to show the strain the most.
+This was his special field, the place where he was supposed to excel,
+and nothing was happening. Reports coming up from the planet were
+discouraging; the isolation techniques they had tried to institute did
+not seem to be working, and the spread of the plague was accelerating.
+The communiqués from the Bruckians were taking on a note of desperation.
+
+Jack watched each report with growing apprehension. He moved restlessly
+from lab to control room, checking and rechecking things, trying to find
+some sign of order in the chaos.
+
+"Try to get some sleep," Dal urged him. "A couple of hours will freshen
+you up a hundred per cent."
+
+"I can't, I've already tried it," Jack said.
+
+"Go ahead. Tiger and I can keep working on these things for a while."
+
+"No, no, it's not that," Jack said. "Without a diagnosis, we can't do a
+thing. Until we have that, our hands are tied, and we aren't even
+getting close to it. We don't even know whether this is a bacteria, or a
+virus, or what. Maybe the Bruckians are right. Maybe it's a curse."
+
+"I don't think the Black Service of Pathology would buy that for a
+diagnosis," Tiger said sourly.
+
+"The Black Service would choke on it--but what other answer do we have?
+You two have been doing all you can, but diagnosis is _my_ job. I'm
+supposed to be good at it, but the more we dig into this, the farther
+away we seem to get."
+
+"Do you want to call for help?" Tiger said.
+
+Jack shook his head helplessly. "I'm beginning to think we should have
+called for help a long time ago," he said. "We're into this over our
+heads now and we're still going down. At the rate those people are dying
+down there, we don't have time to call for help now." He stared at the
+piles of notes on the desk and his face was very white. "I don't know, I
+just don't know," he said. "The diagnosis on this thing should have been
+duck soup. I thought it was going to be a real feather in my cap, just
+walking in and nailing it down in a few hours. Well, I'm whipped. I
+don't know what to do. If either of you can think of an answer, it's all
+yours, and I'll admit it to Black Doctor Tanner himself."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was bitter medicine for Blue Doctor Jack Alvarez to swallow, but that
+fact gave no pleasure to Dal or Tiger now. They were as baffled as Jack
+was, and would have welcomed help from anyone who could offer it.
+
+And, ironically, the first glimpse of the truth came from the direction
+they least expected.
+
+From the very beginning Fuzzy had been watching the proceedings from his
+perch on the swinging platform in the control room. If he sensed that
+Dal Timgar was ignoring him and leaving him to his own devices much of
+the time, he showed no sign of resentment. The tiny creature seemed to
+realize that something important was consuming his master's energy and
+attention, and contented himself with an affectionate pat now and then
+as Dal went through the control room. Everyone assumed without much
+thought that Fuzzy was merely being tolerant of the situation. It was
+not until they had finally given up in desperation and Tiger was trying
+to contact a Hospital Ship for help, that Dal stared up at his little
+pink friend with a puzzled frown.
+
+Tiger put the transmitter down for a moment. "What's wrong?" he said to
+Dal. "You look as though you just bit into a rotten apple."
+
+"I just remembered that I haven't fed him for twenty-four hours," Dal
+said.
+
+"Who? Fuzzy?" Tiger shrugged. "He could see you were busy."
+
+Dal shook his head. "That wouldn't make any difference to Fuzzy. When he
+gets hungry, he gets hungry, and he's pretty self-centered. It wouldn't
+matter what I was doing, he should have been screaming for food hours
+ago."
+
+Dal walked over to the platform and peered down at his pink friend in
+alarm. He took him up and rested him on his shoulder, a move that
+invariably sent Fuzzy into raptures of delight. Now the little creature
+just sat there, trembling and rubbing half-heartedly against Dal's neck.
+
+Dal held him out at arm's length. "Fuzzy, _what's the matter with you?_"
+
+"Do you think something's wrong with him?" Jack said, looking up
+suddenly. "Looks like he's having trouble keeping his eyes open."
+
+"His color isn't right, either," Tiger said. "He looks kind of blue."
+
+Quite suddenly the little black eyes closed and Fuzzy began to tremble
+violently. He drew himself up into a tight pink globule as the fuzz-like
+hair disappeared from view.
+
+Something was unmistakably wrong. As he held the shivering creature, Dal
+was suddenly aware that something had been nibbling at the back of his
+mind for hours. Not a clear-cut thought, merely an impression of pain
+and anguish and sickness, and now as he looked at Fuzzy the impression
+grew so strong it almost made him cry out.
+
+Abruptly, Dal knew what he had to do. Where the thought came from he
+didn't know, but it was crystal clear in his mind. "Jack, where is our
+biggest virus filter?" he asked quietly.
+
+Jack stared at him. "Virus filter? I just took it out of the autoclave
+an hour ago."
+
+"Get it," Dal said, "and the suction machine too. _Quickly!_"
+
+Jack went down the corridor like a shot, and reappeared a moment later
+with the big porcelain virus filter and the suction tubing attached to
+it. Swiftly Dal dumped the limp little creature in his hand into the top
+of the filter jar, poured in some sterile saline, and started the
+suction.
+
+Tiger and Jack watched him in amazement. "What are you doing?" Tiger
+said.
+
+"Filtering him," Dal said. "He's infected. He must have been exposed to
+the plague somehow, maybe when our little Bruckian visitor came on board
+the other day. And if it's a virus that's causing this plague, the virus
+filter ought to hold it back and still let Fuzzy's molecular structure
+through."
+
+They watched and sure enough a bluish-pink fluid began moving down
+through the porcelain filter, and dripping through the funnel into the
+beaker below. Each drop coalesced in the beaker as it fell until Fuzzy's
+whole body had been sucked through the filter and into the jar below. He
+was still not quite his normal pink color, but as the filter went dry,
+a pair of frightened shoe-button eyes appeared and he poked up a pair of
+ears. Presently the fuzz began appearing on his body again.
+
+And on the top of the filter lay a faint gray film. "Don't touch it!"
+Dal said. "That's real poison." He slipped on a mask and gloves, and
+scraped a bit of the film from the filter with a spatula. "I think we
+have it," he said. "The virus that's causing the plague on this
+planet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+THE BOOMERANG CLUE
+
+
+It was a virus, beyond doubt. The electron microscope told them that,
+now that they had the substance isolated and could examine it. In the
+culture tubes in the _Lancet_'s incubators, it would begin to grow
+nicely, and then falter and die, but when guinea pigs were inoculated in
+the ship's laboratory, the substance proved its virulence. The animals
+injected with tiny bits of the substance grew sick within hours and very
+quickly died.
+
+The call to the Hospital Ship was canceled as the three doctors worked
+in feverish excitement. Here at last was something they could grapple
+with, something so common among the races of the galaxy that the doctors
+felt certain that they could cope with it. Very few, if any, higher life
+forms existed that did not have some sort of submicroscopic parasite
+afflicting them. Bacterial infection was a threat on every inhabited
+world, and the viruses--the tiniest of all submicroscopic
+organisms--were the most difficult and dangerous of them all.
+
+And yet virus plagues had been stopped before, and they could be stopped
+again.
+
+Jack radioed down to the planet's surface that the diagnosis had been
+made; as soon as the proper medications could be prepared, the doctors
+would land to begin treatment. There was a new flicker of hopefulness in
+the Bruckian's response, and an appeal to hurry. With renewed energy the
+doctors went back to the lab to start working on the new data.
+
+But trouble continued to dog them. This was no ordinary virus. It proved
+resistant to every one of the antibiotics and antiviral agents in the
+_Lancet_'s stockroom. No drug seemed to affect it, and its molecular
+structure was different from any virus that had ever been recorded
+before.
+
+"If one of the drugs would only just slow it up a little, we'd be
+ahead," Tiger said in perplexity. "We don't have anything that even
+touches it, not even the purified globulins."
+
+"What about antibodies from the infected people?" Jack suggested. "In
+every virus disease I've ever heard of, the victim's own body starts
+making antibodies against the invading virus. If enough antibodies are
+made fast enough, the virus dies and the patient is immune from then
+on."
+
+"Well, these people don't seem to be making any antibodies at all,"
+Tiger said. "At least not as far as I can see. If they were, at least
+some of them would be recovering from the disease. So far not a single
+one has recovered once the thing started. They all just go ahead and
+die."
+
+"I wonder," Dal said, "if Fuzzy had any defense."
+
+Jack looked up. "How do you mean?"
+
+"Well, Fuzzy was infected, we know that. He might have died too, if we
+hadn't caught it in time--but as it worked out, he didn't. In fact, he
+looks pretty healthy right now."
+
+"That's fine for Fuzzy," Jack said impatiently, "but I don't see how we
+can push the whole population of 31 Brucker VII through a virus filter.
+They're flesh-and-blood creatures."
+
+"That's not what I mean," Dal said. "Maybe Fuzzy's body developed
+antibodies against the virus while he was infected. Remember, he doesn't
+have a rigid body structure like we do. He's mostly just basic protein,
+and he can synthesize pretty much anything he wants to or needs to."
+
+Jack blinked. "It's an idea, at least. Is there any way we can get some
+of his body fluid away from him? Without getting bit, I mean?"
+
+"No problem there," Dal said. "He can regenerate pretty fast if he has
+enough of the right kind of food. He won't miss an ounce or two of
+excess tissue."
+
+He took a beaker over to Fuzzy's platform and began squeezing off a
+little blob of pink material. Fuzzy seemed to sense what Dal wanted;
+obligingly he thrust out a little pseudopod which Dal pinched off into
+the beaker. With the addition of a small amount of saline solution, the
+tissue dissolved into thin, pink suspension.
+
+In the laboratory they found two or three of the guinea pigs in the last
+stages of the infection, and injected them with a tiny bit of the pink
+solution. The effect was almost unbelievable. Within twenty minutes all
+of the injected animals began to perk up, their eyes brighter, nibbling
+at the food in their cages, while the ones that had not been injected
+got sicker and sicker.
+
+"Well, there's our answer," Jack said eagerly. "If we can get some of
+this stuff injected into our friends down below, we may be able to
+protect the healthy ones from getting the plague, and cure the sick ones
+as well. If we still have enough time, that is."
+
+They had landing permission from the Bruckian spokesman within minutes,
+and an hour later the _Lancet_ made an orderly landing on a
+newly-repaved landing field near one of the central cities on the
+seventh planet of 31 Brucker.
+
+Tiger and Jack had obviously not exaggerated the strange appearance of
+the towns and cities on this plague-ridden planet, and Dal was appalled
+at the ravages of the disease that they had come to fight. Only one out
+of ten of the Bruckians was still uninfected, and another three out of
+the ten were clearly in the late stages of the disease, walking about
+blankly and blindly, stumbling into things in their paths, falling to
+the ground and lying mute and helpless until death came to release them.
+Under the glaring red sun, weary parties of stretcher bearers went about
+the silent streets, moving their grim cargo out to the mass graves at
+the edge of the city.
+
+The original spokesman who had come up to the _Lancet_ was dead, but
+another had taken his place as negotiator with the doctors--an older,
+thinner Bruckian who looked as if he carried the total burden of his
+people on his shoulders. He greeted them eagerly at the landing field.
+"You have found a solution!" he cried. "You have found a way to turn the
+tide--but hurry! Every moment now is precious."
+
+During the landing procedures, Dal had worked to prepare enough of the
+precious antibody suspension, with Fuzzy's co-operation, to handle a
+large number of inoculations. By the time the ship touched down he had a
+dozen flasks and several hundred syringes ready. Hundreds of the
+unafflicted people were crowding around the ship, staring in open wonder
+as Dal, Jack and Tiger came down the ladder and went into close
+conference with the spokesman.
+
+It took some time to explain to the spokesman why they could not begin
+then and there with the mass inoculations against the plague. First,
+they needed test cases, in order to make certain that what they thought
+would work in theory actually produced the desired results. Controls
+were needed, to be certain that the antibody suspension alone was
+bringing about the changes seen and not something else. At last, orders
+went out from the spokesman. Two hundred uninfected Bruckians were
+admitted to a large roped-off area near the ship, and another two
+hundred in late stages of the disease were led stumbling into another
+closed area. Preliminary skin-tests of the antibody suspension showed no
+sign of untoward reaction. Dal began filling syringes while Tiger and
+Jack started inoculating the two groups.
+
+"If it works with these cases, it will be simple to immunize the whole
+population," Tiger said. "From the amounts we used on the guinea pigs,
+it looks as if only tiny amounts are needed. We may even be able to
+train the Bruckians to give the injections themselves."
+
+"And if it works we ought to have a brand new medical service contract
+ready for signature with Hospital Earth," Jack added eagerly. "It won't
+be long before we have those Stars, you wait and see! If we can only get
+this done fast enough."
+
+They worked feverishly, particularly with the group of terminal cases.
+Many were dying even as the shots were being given, while the first
+symptoms of the disease were appearing in some of the unafflicted ones.
+Swiftly Tiger and Jack went from patient to patient while Dal kept check
+of the names, numbers and locations of those that were inoculated.
+
+And even before they were finished with the inoculations, it was
+apparent that they were taking effect. Not one of the infected patients
+died after inoculation was completed. The series took three hours, and
+by the time the four hundred doses were administered, one thing seemed
+certain: that the antibody was checking the deadly march of the disease
+in some way.
+
+The Bruckian spokesman was so excited he could hardly contain himself;
+he wanted to start bringing in the rest of the population at once.
+"We've almost exhausted this first batch of the material," Dal told him.
+"We will have to prepare more--but we will waste time trying to move a
+whole planet's population here. Get a dozen aircraft ready, and a dozen
+healthy, intelligent workers to help us. We can show them how to use the
+material, and let them go out to the other population centers all at
+once."
+
+Back aboard the ship they started preparing a larger quantity of the
+antibody suspension. Fuzzy had regenerated back to normal weight again,
+and much to Dal's delight had been splitting off small segments of pink
+protoplasm in a circle all around him, as though anticipating further
+demands on his resources. A quick test-run showed that the antibody was
+also being regenerated. Fuzzy was voraciously hungry, but the material
+in the second batch was still as powerful as in the first.
+
+The doctors were almost ready to go back down, loaded with enough
+inoculum and syringes to equip themselves and a dozen field workers when
+Jack suddenly stopped what he was doing and cocked an ear toward the
+entrance lock.
+
+"What's wrong?" Dal said.
+
+"Listen a minute."
+
+They stopped to listen. "I don't hear anything," Tiger said.
+
+Jack nodded. "I know. That's what I mean. They were hollering their
+heads off when we came back aboard. Why so quiet now?"
+
+He crossed over to the viewscreen scanning the field below, and flipped
+on the switch. For a moment he just stared. Then he said: "Come here a
+minute. I don't like the looks of this at all."
+
+Dal and Tiger crowded up to the screen. "What's the matter?" Tiger said.
+"I don't see ... _wait a minute!_"
+
+"Yes, you'd better look again," Jack said. "What do you think, Dal?"
+
+"We'd better get down there fast," Dal said, "and see what's going on.
+It looks to me like we've got a tiger by the tail...."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They climbed down the ladder once again, with the antibody flasks and
+sterile syringes strapped to their backs. But this time the greeting was
+different from before.
+
+The Bruckian spokesman and the others who had not yet been inoculated
+drew back from them in terror as they stepped to the ground. Before, the
+people on the field had crowded in eagerly around the ship; now they
+were standing in silent groups staring at the doctors fearfully and
+muttering among themselves.
+
+But the doctors could see only the inoculated people in the two
+roped-off areas. Off to the right among the infected Bruckians who had
+received the antibody there were no new dead--but there was no change
+for the better, either. The sick creatures drifted about aimlessly,
+milling like animals in a cage, their faces blank, their jaws slack,
+hands wandering foolishly. Not one of them had begun reacting normally,
+not one showed any sign of recognition or recovery.
+
+But the real horror was on the other side of the field. Here were the
+healthy ones, the uninfected ones who had received preventative
+inoculations. A few hours before they had been left standing in quiet,
+happy groups, talking among themselves, laughing and joking....
+
+But now they weren't talking any more. They stared across at the doctors
+with slack faces and dazed eyes, their feet shuffling aimlessly in the
+dust. All were alive, but only half-alive. The intelligence and
+alertness were gone from their faces; they were like the empty shells of
+the creatures they had been a few hours before, indistinguishable from
+the infected creatures in the other compound.
+
+Jack turned to the Bruckian spokesman in alarm. "What's happened here?"
+he asked. "What's become of the ones we inoculated? Where have you taken
+them?"
+
+The spokesman shrank back as though afraid Jack might reach out to touch
+him. "Taken them!" he cried. "We have moved none of them! Those are the
+ones you poisoned with your needles. What have you done to make them
+like this?"
+
+"It--it must be some sort of temporary reaction to the injection," Jack
+faltered. "There was nothing that we used that could possibly have given
+them the disease, we only used a substance to help them fight it off."
+
+The Bruckian was shaking his fist angrily. "It's no reaction, it is the
+plague itself! What kind of evil are you doing? You came here to help
+us, and instead you bring us more misery. Do we not have enough of that
+to please you?"
+
+Swiftly the doctors began examining the patients in both enclosures, and
+on each side they found the same picture. One by one they checked the
+ones that had previously been untouched by the plague, and found only
+the sagging jaws and idiot stares.
+
+"There's no sense examining every one," Tiger said finally. "They're all
+the same, every one."
+
+"But this is impossible," Jack said, glancing apprehensively at the
+growing mob of angry Bruckians outside the stockades. "What could have
+happened? What have we done?"
+
+"I don't know," Tiger said. "But whatever we've done has turned into a
+boomerang. We knew that the antibody might not work, and the disease
+might just go right ahead, but we didn't anticipate anything like this."
+
+"Maybe some foreign protein got into the batch," Dal said.
+
+Tiger shook his head. "It wouldn't behave like _this_. And we were
+careful getting it ready. All we've done was inject an antibody against
+a specific virus. All it could have done was to kill the virus, but
+these people act as though they're infected now."
+
+"But they're not dying," Dal said. "And the sick ones we injected
+stopped dying, too."
+
+"So what do we do now?" Jack said.
+
+"Get one of these that changed like this aboard ship and go over him
+with a fine-toothed comb. We've got to find out what's happened."
+
+He led one of the stricken Bruckians by the hand like a mindless dummy
+across the field toward the little group where the spokesman and his
+party stood. The crowd on the field were moving in closer; an angry cry
+went up when Dal touched the sick creature.
+
+"You'll have to keep this crowd under control," Dal said to the
+spokesman. "We're going to take this one aboard the ship and examine him
+to see what this reaction could be, but this mob is beginning to sound
+dangerous."
+
+"They're afraid," the spokesman said. "They want to know what you've
+done to them, what this new curse is that you bring in your syringes."
+
+"It's not a curse, but something has gone wrong. We need to learn what,
+in order to deal with it."
+
+"The people are afraid and angry," the spokesman said. "I don't know how
+long I can control them."
+
+And indeed, the attitude of the crowd around the ship was very strange.
+They were not just fearful; they were terrified. As the doctors walked
+back to the ship leading the stricken Bruckian behind them, the people
+shrank back with dreadful cries, holding up their hands as if to ward
+off some monstrous evil. Before, in the worst throes of the plague,
+there had been no sign of this kind of reaction. The people had seemed
+apathetic and miserable, resigned hopelessly to their fate, but now they
+were reacting in abject terror. It almost seemed that they were more
+afraid of these walking shells of their former selves than they were of
+the disease itself.
+
+But as the doctors started up the ladder toward the entrance lock the
+crowd surged in toward them with fists raised in anger. "We'd better get
+help, and fast," Jack said as he slammed the entrance lock closed behind
+them. "I don't like the looks of this a bit. Dal, we'd better see what
+we can learn from this poor creature here."
+
+As Tiger headed for the earphones, Dal and Jack went to work once again,
+checking the blood and other body fluids from the stricken Bruckian. But
+now, incredibly, the results of their tests were quite different from
+those they had obtained before. The blood sugar and protein
+determinations fell into the pattern they had originally expected for a
+creature of this type. Even more surprising, the level of the antibody
+against the plague virus was high--far higher than it could have been
+from the tiny amount that was injected into the creature.
+
+"They must have been making it themselves," Dal said, "and our
+inoculation was just the straw that broke the camel's back. All of those
+people must have been on the brink of symptoms of the infection, and
+all we did was add to the natural defenses they were already making."
+
+"Then why did the symptoms appear?" Jack said. "If that's true, we
+should have been _helping_ them, and look at them now!"
+
+Tiger appeared at the door, scowling. "We've got real trouble, now," he
+said. "I can't get through to a hospital ship. In fact, I can't get a
+message out at all. These people are jamming our radios."
+
+"But why?" Dal said.
+
+"I don't know, but take a look outside there."
+
+Through the viewscreen it seemed as though the whole field around the
+ship had filled up with the crowd. The first reaction of terror now
+seemed to have given way to blind fury; the people were shouting
+angrily, waving their clenched fists at the ship as the spokesman tried
+to hold them back.
+
+Then there was a resounding crash from somewhere below, and the ship
+lurched, throwing the doctors to the floor. They staggered to their feet
+as another blow jolted the ship, and another.
+
+"Let's get a screen up," Tiger shouted. "Jack, get the engines going.
+They're trying to board us, and I don't think it'll be much fun if they
+ever break in."
+
+In the control room they threw the switches that activated a powerful
+protective energy screen around the ship. It was a device that was
+carried by all GPP Ships as a means of protection against physical
+attack. When activated, an energy screen was virtually impregnable, but
+it could only be used briefly; the power it required placed an enormous
+drain on a ship's energy resources, and a year's nuclear fuel could be
+consumed in a few hours.
+
+Now the screen served its purpose. The ship steadied, still vibrating
+from the last assault, and the noise from below ceased abruptly. But
+when Jack threw the switches to start the engines, nothing happened at
+all.
+
+"Look at that!" he cried, staring at the motionless dials. "They're
+jamming our electrical system somehow. I can't get any turn-over."
+
+"Try it again," Tiger said. "We've got to get out of here. If they break
+in, we're done for."
+
+"They can't break through the screen," Dal said.
+
+"Not as long as it lasts. But we can't keep it up indefinitely."
+
+Once again they tried the radio equipment. There was no response but the
+harsh static of the jamming signal from the ground below. "It's no
+good," Tiger said finally. "We're stuck here, and we can't even call for
+help. You'd think if they were so scared of us they'd be glad to see us
+go."
+
+"I think there's more to it than that," Dal said thoughtfully. "This
+whole business has been crazy from the start. This just fits in with all
+the rest." He picked Fuzzy off his perch and set him on his shoulder as
+if to protect him from some unsuspected threat. "Maybe they're afraid of
+us, I don't know. But I think they're afraid of something else a whole
+lot worse."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was nothing to be done but wait and stare hopelessly at the mass
+of notes and records that they had collected on the people of 31 Brucker
+VII and the plague that afflicted them.
+
+Until now, the _Lancet_'s crew had been too busy to stop and piece the
+data together, to try to see the picture as a whole. But now there was
+ample time, and the realization of what had been happening here began to
+dawn on them.
+
+They had followed the well-established principles step by step in
+studying these incredible people, and nothing had come out as it should.
+In theory, the steps they had taken should have yielded the answer. They
+had come to a planet where an entire population was threatened with a
+dreadful disease. They had identified the disease, found and isolated
+the virus that caused it, and then developed an antibody that
+effectively destroyed the virus--in the laboratory. But when they had
+tried to apply the antibody in the afflicted patients, the response had
+been totally unexpected. They had stopped the march of death among those
+they had inoculated, and had produced instead a condition that the
+people seemed to dread far more than death.
+
+"Let's face it," Dal said, "we bungled it somehow. We should have had
+help here right from the start. I don't know where we went wrong, but
+we've done something."
+
+"Well, it wasn't your fault," Jack said gloomily. "If we had the right
+diagnosis, this wouldn't have happened. And I _still_ can't see the
+diagnosis. All I've been able to come up with is a nice mess."
+
+"We're missing something, that's all," Dal said. "The information is all
+here. We just aren't reading it right, somehow. Somewhere in here is a
+key to the whole thing, and we just can't see it."
+
+They went back to the data again, going through it step by step. This
+was Jack Alvarez's specialty--the technique of diagnosis, the ability to
+take all the available information about a race and about its illness
+and piece it together into a pattern that made sense. Dal could see that
+Jack was now bitterly angry with himself, yet at every turn he seemed to
+strike another obstacle--some fact that didn't jibe, a missing fragment
+here, a wrong answer there. With Dal and Tiger helping he started back
+over the sequence of events, trying to make sense out of them, and came
+up squarely against a blank wall.
+
+The things they had done should have worked; instead, they had failed. A
+specific antibody used against a specific virus should have destroyed
+the virus or slowed its progress, and there seemed to be no rational
+explanation for the dreadful response of the uninfected ones who had
+been inoculated for protection.
+
+And as the doctors sifted through the data, the Bruckian they had
+brought up from the enclosure sat staring off into space, making small
+noises with his mouth and moving his arms aimlessly. After a while they
+led him back to a bunk, gave him a medicine for sleep and left him
+snoring gently. Another hour passed as they pored over their notes, with
+Tiger stopping from time to time to mop perspiration from his forehead.
+All three were aware of the moving clock hands, marking off the minutes
+that the force screen could hold out.
+
+And then Dal Timgar was digging into the pile of papers, searching
+frantically for something he could not find. "That first report we got,"
+he said hoarsely. "There was something in the very first information we
+ever saw on this planet...."
+
+"You mean the Confederation's data? It's in the radio log." Tiger pulled
+open the thick log book. "But what...."
+
+"It's there, plain as day, I'm sure of it," Dal said. He read through
+the report swiftly, until he came to the last paragraph--a two-line
+description of the largest creatures the original Exploration Ship had
+found on the planet, described by them as totally unintelligent and only
+observed on a few occasions in the course of the exploration. Dal read
+it, and his hands were trembling as he handed the report to Jack. "I
+knew the answer was there!" he said. "Take a look at that again and
+think about it for a minute."
+
+Jack read it through. "I don't see what you mean," he said.
+
+"I mean that I think we've made a horrible mistake," Dal said, "and I
+think I see now what it was. We've had this whole thing exactly 100 per
+cent backward from the start, and that explains everything that's
+happened here!"
+
+Tiger peered over Jack's shoulder at the report. "Backward?"
+
+"As backward as we could get it," Dal said. "We've assumed all along
+that these flesh-and-blood creatures down there were the ones that were
+calling us for help because of a virus plague that was attacking and
+killing them. All right, look at it the other way. Just suppose that the
+intelligent creature that called us for help was the _virus_, and that
+those flesh-and-blood creatures down there with the blank, stupid faces
+are the _real_ plague we ought to have been fighting all along!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+DAL BREAKS A PROMISE
+
+
+For a moment the others just stared at their Garvian crewmate. Then Jack
+Alvarez snorted. "You'd better go back and get some rest," he said.
+"This has been a tougher grind than I thought. You're beginning to show
+the strain."
+
+"No, I mean it," Dal said earnestly. "I think that is exactly what's
+been happening."
+
+Tiger looked at him with concern. "Dal, this is no time for double talk
+and nonsense."
+
+"It's not nonsense," Dal said. "It's the answer, if you'll only stop and
+think."
+
+"An intelligent _virus_?" Jack said. "Who ever heard of such a thing?
+There's never been a life-form like that reported since the beginning of
+the galactic exploration."
+
+"But that doesn't mean there couldn't be one," Dal said. "And how would
+an exploratory crew ever identify it, if it existed? How would they ever
+even suspect it? They'd miss it completely--unless it happened to get
+into trouble itself and try to call for help!" Dal jumped up in
+excitement.
+
+"Look, I've seen a dozen articles showing how such a thing was
+theoretically possible ... a virus life-form with billions of
+submicroscopic parts acting together to form an intelligent colony. The
+only thing a virus-creature would need that other intelligent creatures
+don't need would be some kind of a host, some sort of animal body to
+live in so that it could use its intelligence."
+
+"It's impossible," Jack said scornfully. "Why don't you give it up and
+get some rest? Here we sit with our feet in the fire, and all you can do
+is dream up foolishness like this."
+
+"I'm not so sure it's foolishness," Tiger Martin said slowly. "Jack,
+maybe he's got something. A couple of things would fit that don't make
+sense at all."
+
+"All sorts of things would fit," Dal said. "The viruses we know have to
+have a host--some other life-form to live in. Usually they are
+parasites, damaging or destroying their hosts and giving nothing in
+return, but some set up real partnership housekeeping with their hosts
+so that both are better off."
+
+"You mean a symbiotic relationship," Jack said.
+
+"Of course," Dal said. "Now suppose these virus-creatures were
+intelligent, and came from some other place looking for a new host they
+could live with. They wouldn't look for an intelligent creature, they
+would look for some _unintelligent_ creature with a good strong body
+that would be capable of doing all sorts of things if it only had an
+intelligence to guide it. Suppose these virus-creatures found a
+simple-minded, unintelligent race on this planet and tried to set up a
+symbiotic relationship with it. The virus-creatures would need a host to
+provide a home and a food supply. Maybe they in turn could supply the
+intelligence to raise the host to a civilized level of life and
+performance. Wouldn't that be a fair basis for a sound partnership?"
+
+Jack scratched his head doubtfully. "And you're saying that these
+virus-creatures came here after the exploratory ship had come and gone?"
+
+"They must have! Maybe they only came a few years ago, maybe only months
+ago. But when they tried to invade the unintelligent creatures the
+exploratory ship found here, they discovered that the new host's body
+couldn't tolerate them. His body reacted as if they were parasitic
+invaders, and built up antibodies against them. And those body defenses
+were more than the virus could cope with."
+
+Dal pointed to the piles of notes on the desk. "Don't you see how it
+adds up? Right from the beginning we've been assuming that these
+monkey-like creatures here on this planet were the dominant, intelligent
+life-forms. Anatomically they were ordinary cellular creatures like you
+and me, and when we examined them we expected to find the same sort of
+biochemical reactions we'd find with any such creatures. And all our
+results came out wrong, because we were dealing with a combination of
+two creatures--the host and a virus. Maybe the creatures on 31 Brucker
+VII were naturally blank-faced idiots before the virus came, or maybe
+the virus was forced to damage some vital part just in order to fight
+back--but it was the _virus_ that was being killed by its own host, not
+the other way around."
+
+Jack studied the idea, no longer scornful. "So you think the
+virus-creatures called for help, hoping we could find some way to free
+them from the hosts that were killing them. And when Fuzzy developed a
+powerful antibody against them, and we started using the stuff--" Jack
+broke off, shaking his head in horror. "Dal, if you're right, we were
+literally _slaughtering our own patients_ when we gave those injections
+down there!"
+
+"Exactly," Dal said. "Is it any wonder they're so scared of us now? It
+must have looked like a deliberate attempt to wipe them out, and now
+they're afraid that we'll go get help and _really_ move in against
+them."
+
+Tiger nodded. "Which was precisely what we were planning, if you stop to
+think about it. Maybe that was why they were so reluctant to tell us
+anything about themselves. Maybe they've already been mistaken for
+parasitic invaders before, wherever in the universe they came from."
+
+"But if this is true, then we're really in a jam," Jack said. "What can
+we possibly do for them? We can't even repair the damage that we've
+already done. What sort of treatment can we use?"
+
+Dal shook his head. "I don't know the answer to that one, but I do know
+we've got to find out if we're right. An intelligent virus-creature has
+as much right to life as any other intelligent life-form. If we've
+guessed right, then there's a lot that our intelligent friends down
+there haven't told us. Maybe there'll be some clue there. We've just got
+to face them with it, and see what they say."
+
+Jack looked at the viewscreen, at the angry mob milling around on the
+ground, held back from the ship by the energy screen. "You mean just go
+out there and say, 'Look fellows, it was all a mistake, we didn't really
+mean to do it?'" He shook his head. "Maybe you want to tell them. Not
+me!"
+
+"Dal's right, though," Tiger said. "We've got to contact them somehow.
+They aren't even responding to radio communication, and they've
+scrambled our outside radio and fouled our drive mechanism somehow.
+We've got to settle this while we still have an energy screen."
+
+There was a long silence as the three doctors looked at each other. Then
+Dal stood up and walked over to the swinging platform. He lifted Fuzzy
+down onto his shoulder. "It'll be all right," he said to Jack and
+Tiger. "I'll go out."
+
+"They'll tear you to ribbons!" Tiger protested.
+
+Dal shook his head. "I don't think so," he said quietly. "I don't think
+they'll touch me. They'll greet me with open arms when I go down there,
+and they'll be eager to talk to me."
+
+"Are you crazy?" Jack cried, leaping to his feet. "We can't let you go
+out there."
+
+"Don't worry," Dal said. "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'll be able to
+handle the situation, believe me."
+
+He hesitated a moment, and gave Fuzzy a last nervous pat, settling him
+more firmly on his shoulder. Then he started down the corridor for the
+entrance lock.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He had promised himself long before ... many years before ... that he
+would never do what he planned to do now, but now he knew that there was
+no alternative. The only other choice was to wait helplessly until the
+power failed and the protective screen vanished and the creatures on the
+ground outside tore the ship to pieces.
+
+As he stood in the airlock waiting for the pressure to shift to outside
+normal, he lifted Fuzzy down into the crook of his arm and rubbed the
+little creature between the shoe-button eyes. "You've got to back me up
+now," he whispered softly. "It's been a long time, I know that, but I
+need help now. It's going to be up to you."
+
+Dal knew the subtle strength of his people's peculiar talent. From the
+moment he had stepped down to the ground the second time with Tiger and
+Jack, even with Fuzzy waiting back on the ship, he had felt the powerful
+wave of horror and fear and anger rising up from the Bruckians, and he
+had glimpsed the awful idiot vacancy of the minds of the creatures in
+the enclosure, in whom the intelligent virus was already dead. This had
+required no effort; it just came naturally into his mind, and he had
+known instantly that something terrible had gone wrong.
+
+In the years on Hospital Earth, he had carefully forced himself never to
+think in terms of his special talent. He had diligently screened off the
+impressions and emotions that struck at him constantly from his
+classmates and from others that he came in contact with. Above all, he
+had fought down the temptation to turn his power the other way, to use
+it to his own advantage.
+
+But now, as the lock opened and he started down the ladder, he closed
+his mind to everything else. Hugging Fuzzy close to his side, he turned
+his mind into a single tight channel. He drove the thought out at the
+Bruckians with all the power he could muster: _I come in peace. I mean
+you no harm. I have good news, joyful news. You must be happy to see me,
+eager to welcome me...._
+
+He could feel the wave of anger and fear strike him like a physical blow
+as soon as he appeared in the entrance lock. The cries rose up in a
+wave, and the crowd surged in toward the ship. With the energy field
+released, there was nothing to stop them; they were tripping over each
+other to reach the bottom of the ladder first, shouting threats and
+waving angry fists, reaching up to grab at Dal's ankles as he came
+down....
+
+And then as if by magic the cries died in the throats of the ones
+closest to the ladder. The angry fists unclenched, and extended into
+outstretched hands to help him down to the ground. As though an
+ever-widening wave was spreading out around him, the aura of peace and
+good will struck the people in the crowd. And as it spread, the anger
+faded from the faces; the hard lines gave way to puzzled frowns, then to
+smiles. Dal channeled his thoughts more rigidly, and watched the effect
+spread out from him like ripples in a pond, as anger and suspicion and
+fear melted away to be replaced by confidence and trust.
+
+Dal had seen it occur a thousand times before. He could remember his
+trips on Garvian trading ships with his father, when the traders with
+their fuzzy pink friends on their shoulders faced cold, hostile,
+suspicious buyers. It had seemed almost miraculous the way the
+suspicions melted away and the hostile faces became friendly as the
+buyers' minds became receptive to bargaining and trading. He had even
+seen it happen on the _Teegar_ with Tiger and Jack, and it was no
+coincidence that throughout the galaxy the Garvians--always accompanied
+by their fuzzy friends--had assumed the position of power and wealth and
+leadership that they had.
+
+And now once again the pattern was being repeated. The Bruckians who
+surrounded Dal were smiling and talking eagerly; they made no move to
+touch him or harm him.
+
+The spokesman they had talked to before was there at his elbow, and Dal
+heard himself saying, "We have found the answer to your problem. We know
+now the true nature of your race, and the nature of your intelligence.
+You were afraid that we would find out, but your fears were groundless.
+We will not turn our knowledge against you. We only want to help you."
+
+An expression almost like despair had crossed the spokesman's face as
+Dal spoke. Now he said, "It would be good--if we could believe you. But
+how can we? We have been driven for so long and come so far, and now you
+would seek to wipe us out as parasites and disease-carriers."
+
+Dal saw the Bruckian creature's eyes upon him, saw the frail body
+tremble and the lips move, but he knew now that the intelligence that
+formed the words and the thoughts behind them, the intelligence that
+made the lips speak the words, was the intelligence of a creature far
+different from the one he was looking at--a creature formed of billions
+of submicroscopic units, imbedded in every one of the Bruckian's body
+cells, trapped there now and helpless against the antibody reaction that
+sought to destroy them. This was the intelligence that had called for
+help in its desperate plight, but had not quite dared to trust its
+rescuers with the whole truth.
+
+But was this strange virus-creature good or evil, hostile or friendly?
+Dal's hand lay on Fuzzy's tiny body, but he felt no quiver, no vibration
+of fear. He looked across the face of the crowd, trying with all his
+strength to open his mind to the feelings and emotions of these people.
+Often enough, with Fuzzy nearby, he had felt the harsh impact of
+hostile, cruel, brutal minds, even when the owners of those minds had
+tried to conceal their feelings behind smiles and pleasant words. But
+here there was no sign of the sickening feeling that kind of mind
+produced, no hint of hostility or evil.
+
+He shook his head. "Why should we want to destroy you?" he said. "You
+are good, and peaceful. We know that; why should we harm you? All you
+want is a place to live, and a host to join with you in a mutually
+valuable partnership. But you did not tell us everything you could about
+yourselves, and as a result we have destroyed some of you in our clumsy
+attempts to learn your true nature."
+
+They talked then, and bit by bit the story came out. The life-form was
+indeed a virus, unimaginably ancient, and intelligent throughout
+millions of years of its history. Driven by over-population, a pure
+culture of the virus-creatures had long ago departed from their original
+native hosts, and traveled like encapsulated spores across space from a
+distant galaxy. The trip had been long and exhausting; the
+virus-creatures had retained only the minimum strength necessary to
+establish themselves in a new host, some unintelligent creature living
+on an uninhabited planet, a creature that could benefit by the great
+intelligence of the virus-creatures, and provide food and shelter for
+both. Finally, after thousands of years of searching, they had found
+this planet with its dull-minded, fruit-gathering inhabitants. These
+creatures had seemed perfect as hosts, and the virus-creatures had
+thought their long search for a perfect partner was finally at an end.
+
+It was not until they had expended the last dregs of their energy in
+anchoring themselves into the cells and tissues of their new hosts that
+they discovered to their horror that the host-creatures could not
+tolerate them. Unlike their original hosts, the bodies of these
+creatures began developing deadly antibodies that attacked the virus
+invaders. In their desperate attempts to hold on and fight back, the
+virus-creatures had destroyed vital centers in the new hosts, and one by
+one they had begun to die. There was not enough energy left for the
+virus-creatures to detach themselves and move on; without some way to
+stem the onslaught of the antibodies, they were doomed to total
+destruction.
+
+"We were afraid to tell you doctors the truth," the spokesman said. "As
+we wandered and searched we discovered that creatures like ourselves
+were extreme rarities in the universe, that most creatures similar to us
+were mindless, unintelligent parasites that struck down their hosts and
+destroyed them. Wherever we went, life-forms of your kind regarded us as
+disease-bearers, and their doctors taught them ways to destroy us. We
+had hoped that from you we might find a way to save ourselves--then you
+unleashed on us the one weapon we could not fight."
+
+"But not maliciously," Dal said. "Only because we did not understand.
+And now that we do, there may be a way to help. A difficult way, but at
+least a way. The antibodies themselves can be neutralized, but it may
+take our biochemists and virologists and all their equipment months or
+even years to develop and synthesize the proper antidote."
+
+The spokesman looked at Dal, and turned away with a hopeless gesture.
+"Then it is too late, after all," he said. "We are dying too fast. Even
+those of us who have not been affected so far are beginning to feel the
+early symptoms of the antibody attack." He smiled sadly and reached out
+to stroke the small pink creature on Dal's arm. "Your people too have a
+partner, I see. We envy you."
+
+Dal felt a movement on his arm and looked down at Fuzzy. He had always
+taken his little friend for granted, but now he thought of the feeling
+of emptiness and loss that had come across him when Fuzzy had been
+almost killed. He had often wondered just what Fuzzy might be like if
+his almost-fluid, infinitely adaptable physical body had only been
+endowed with intelligence. He had wondered what kind of a creature Fuzzy
+might be if he were able to use his remarkable structure with the
+guidance of an intelligent mind behind it....
+
+He felt another movement on his arm, and his eyes widened as he stared
+down at his little friend.
+
+A moment before, there had been a single three-inch pink creature on his
+elbow. But now there were two, each just one-half the size of the
+original. As Dal watched, one of the two drew away from the other,
+creeping in to snuggle closer to Dal's side, and a pair of shoe-button
+eyes appeared and blinked up at him trustingly. But the other creature
+was moving down his arm, straining out toward the Bruckian spokesman....
+
+Dal realized instantly what was happening. He started to draw back, but
+something stopped him. Deep in his mind he could sense a gentle voice
+reassuring him, saying, _It's all right, there is nothing to fear, no
+harm will come to me. These creatures need help, and this is the way to
+help them._
+
+He saw the Bruckian reach out a trembling hand. The tiny pink creature
+that had separated from Fuzzy seemed almost to leap across to the
+outstretched hand. And then the spokesman held him close, and the new
+Fuzzy shivered happily.
+
+The virus-creatures had found a host. Here was the ideal kind of body
+for their intelligence to work with and mold, a host where
+antibody-formation could be perfectly controlled. Dal knew now that the
+problem had almost been solved once before, when the virus-creature had
+reached Fuzzy on the ship; if they had only waited a little longer they
+would have seen Fuzzy recover from his illness a different creature
+entirely than before.
+
+Already the new creature was dividing again, with half going on to the
+next of the Bruckians. To a submicroscopic virus, the body of the host
+would not have to be large; soon there would be a sufficient number of
+hosts to serve the virus-creatures' needs forever. As he started back up
+the ladder to the ship, Dal knew that the problem on 31 Brucker VII had
+found a happy and permanent solution.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Back in the control room Dal related what had happened from beginning to
+end. There was only one detail that he concealed. He could not bring
+himself to tell Tiger and Jack of the true nature of his relationship
+with Fuzzy, of the odd power over the emotions of others that Fuzzy's
+presence gave him. He could tell by their faces that they realized that
+he was leaving something out; they had watched him go down to face a
+blood-thirsty mob, and had seen that mob become docile as lambs as
+though by magic. Clearly they could not understand what had happened,
+yet they did not ask him.
+
+"So it was Fuzzy's idea to volunteer as a new host for the creatures,"
+Jack said.
+
+Dal nodded. "I knew that he could reproduce, of course," he said. "Every
+Garvian has a Fuzzy, and whenever a new Garvian is born, the father's
+Fuzzy always splits so that half can join the new-born child. It's like
+the division of a cell; within hours the Fuzzy that stayed down there
+will have divided to provide enough protoplasm for every one of the
+surviving intelligent Bruckians."
+
+"And your diagnosis was the right one," Jack said.
+
+"We'll see," Dal said. "Tomorrow we'll know better."
+
+But clearly the problem had been solved. The next day there was an
+excited conference between the spokesman and the doctors on the
+_Lancet_. The Bruckians had elected to maintain the same host body as
+before. They had gotten used to it; with the small pink creatures
+serving as a shelter to protect them against the deadly antibodies, they
+could live in peace and security. But they were eager, before the
+_Lancet_ disembarked, to sign a full medical service contract with the
+doctors from Hospital Earth. A contract was signed, subject only to
+final acceptance and ratification by the Hospital Earth officials.
+
+Now that their radio was free again, the three doctors jubilantly
+prepared a full account of the problem of 31 Brucker and its solution,
+and dispatched the news of the new contract to the first relay station
+on its way back to Hospital Earth. Then, weary to the point of collapse,
+they retired for the first good sleep in days, eagerly awaiting an
+official response from Hospital Earth on the completed case and the
+contract.
+
+"It ought to wipe out any black mark Dr. Tanner has against any of us,"
+Jack said happily. "And especially in Dal's case." He grinned at the Red
+Doctor. "This one has been yours, all the way. You pulled it out of the
+fire after I flubbed it completely, and you're going to get the credit,
+if I have anything to say about it."
+
+"We should all get credit," Dal said. "A new contract isn't signed every
+day of the year. But the way we all fumbled our way into it, Hospital
+Earth shouldn't pay much attention to it anyway."
+
+But Dal knew that he was only throwing up his habitual shield to guard
+against disappointment. Traditionally, a new contract meant a Star
+rating for each of the crew that brought it in. All through medical
+school Dal had read the reports of other patrol ships that had secured
+new contracts with uncontacted planets, and he had seen the fanfare and
+honor that were heaped on the doctors from those ships. And for the
+first time since he had entered medical school years before, Dal now
+allowed himself to hope that his goal was in sight.
+
+He wanted to be a Star Surgeon more than anything else. It was the one
+thing that he had wanted and worked for since the cruel days when the
+plague had swept his homeland, destroying his mother and leaving his
+father an ailing cripple. And since his assignment aboard the _Lancet_,
+one thought had filled his mind: to turn in the scarlet collar and cuff
+in return for the cape and silver star of the full-fledged physician in
+the Red Service of Surgery.
+
+Always before there had been the half-conscious dread that something
+would happen, that in the end, after all the work, the silver star would
+still remain just out of reach, that somehow he would never quite get
+it.
+
+But now there could be no question. Even Black Doctor Tanner could not
+deny a new contract. The crew of the _Lancet_ would be called back to
+Hospital Earth for a full report on the newly contacted race, and their
+days as probationary doctors in the General Practice patrol would be
+over.
+
+After they had slept themselves out, the doctors prepared the ship for
+launching, and made their farewells to the Bruckian spokesman.
+
+"When the contract is ratified," Jack said, "a survey ship will come
+here. They will have all of the information that we have gathered, and
+they will spend many months gathering more. Tell them everything they
+want to know. Don't conceal anything, because once they have completed
+their survey, any General Practice Patrol ship in the galaxy will be
+able to answer a call for help and have the information they need to
+serve you."
+
+They delayed launching hour by hour waiting for a response from Hospital
+Earth, but the radio was silent. They thought of a dozen reasons why the
+message might have been delayed, but the radio silence continued.
+Finally they strapped down and lifted the ship from the planet, still
+waiting for a response.
+
+When it finally came, there was no message of congratulations, nor even
+any acknowledgment of the new contract. Instead, there was only a terse
+message:
+
+      PROCEED TO REFERENCE POINT 43621 SECTION XIX AND STAND BY
+      FOR INSPECTION PARTY
+
+Tiger took the message and read it in silence, then handed it to Dal.
+
+"What do they say?" Jack said.
+
+"Read it," Dal said. "They don't mention the contract, just an
+inspection party."
+
+"Inspection party! Is that the best they can do for us?"
+
+"They don't sound too enthusiastic," Tiger said. "At least you'd think
+they could acknowledge receipt of our report."
+
+"It's probably just part of the routine," Dal said. "Maybe they want to
+confirm our reports from our own records before they commit themselves."
+
+But he knew that he was only whistling in the dark. The moment he saw
+the terse message, he knew something had gone wrong with the contract.
+There would be no notes of congratulation, no returning in triumph and
+honor to Hospital Earth.
+
+Whatever the reason for the inspection party, Dal felt certain who the
+inspector was going to be.
+
+It had been exciting to dream, but the scarlet cape and the silver star
+were still a long way out of reach.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+THE SHOWDOWN
+
+
+It was hours later when their ship reached the contact point
+co-ordinates. There had been little talk during the transit; each of
+them knew already what the other was thinking, and there wasn't much to
+be said. The message had said it for them.
+
+Dal's worst fears were realized when the inspection ship appeared,
+converting from Koenig drive within a few miles of the _Lancet_. He had
+seen the ship before--a sleek, handsomely outfitted patrol class ship
+with the insignia of the Black Service of Pathology emblazoned on its
+hull, the private ship of a Four-star Black Doctor.
+
+But none of them anticipated the action taken by the inspection ship as
+it drew within lifeboat range of the _Lancet_.
+
+A scooter shot away from its storage rack on the black ship, and a crew
+of black-garbed technicians piled into the _Lancet_'s entrance lock,
+dressed in the special decontamination suits worn when a ship was
+returning from a plague spot into uninfected territory.
+
+"What is this?" Tiger demanded as the technicians started unloading
+decontamination gear into the lock. "What are you doing with that
+stuff?"
+
+The squad leader looked at him sourly. "You're in quarantine, Doc," he
+said. "Class I, all precautions, contact with unidentified pestilence.
+If you don't like it, argue with the Black Doctor, I've just got a job
+to do."
+
+He started shouting orders to his men, and they scattered throughout the
+ship, with blowers and disinfectants, driving antiseptic sprays into
+every crack and cranny of the ship's interior, scouring the hull outside
+in the rigid pattern prescribed for plague ships. They herded the
+doctors into the decontamination lock, stripped them of their clothes,
+scrubbed them down and tossed them special sterilized fatigues to wear
+with masks and gloves.
+
+"This is idiotic," Jack protested. "We aren't carrying any dangerous
+organisms!"
+
+The squad leader shrugged indifferently. "Tell it to the Black Doctor,
+not me. All I know is that this ship is under quarantine until it's
+officially released, and from what I hear, it's not going to be released
+for quite some time."
+
+At last the job was done, and the scooter departed back to the
+inspection ship. A few moments later they saw it returning, this time
+carrying just three men. In addition to the pilot and one technician,
+there was a single passenger: a portly figure dressed in a black robe,
+horn-rimmed glasses and cowl.
+
+The scooter grappled the _Lancet_'s side, and Black Doctor Hugo Tanner
+climbed wheezing into the entrance lock, followed by the technician. He
+stopped halfway into the lock to get his breath, and paused again as the
+lock swung closed behind him. Dal was shocked at the physical change in
+the man in the few short weeks since he had seen him last. The Black
+Doctor's face was gray; every effort of movement brought on paroxysms of
+coughing. He looked sick, and he looked tired, yet his jaw was still set
+in angry determination.
+
+The doctors stood at attention as he stepped into the control room,
+hardly able to conceal their surprise at seeing him. "Well?" the Black
+Doctor snapped at them. "What's the trouble with you? You act like
+you've seen a ghost or something."
+
+"We--we'd heard that you were in the hospital, sir."
+
+"Did you, now!" the Black Doctor snorted. "Hospital! Bah! I had to tell
+the press something to get the hounds off me for a while. These young
+puppies seem to think that a Black Doctor can just walk away from his
+duties any time he chooses to undergo their fancy surgical procedures.
+And you know who's been screaming the loudest to get their hands on me.
+The Red Service of Surgery, that's who!"
+
+The Black Doctor glared at Dal Timgar. "Well, I dare say the Red Doctors
+will have their chance at me, all in good time. But first there are
+certain things which must be taken care of." He looked up at the
+attendant. "You're quite certain that the ship has been decontaminated?"
+
+The attendant nodded. "Yes, sir."
+
+"And the crewmen?"
+
+"It's safe to talk to them, sir, as long as you avoid physical contact."
+
+The Black Doctor grunted and wheezed and settled himself down in a seat.
+"All right now, gentlemen," he said to the three, "let's have your story
+of this affair in the Brucker system, right from the start."
+
+"But we sent in a full report," Tiger said.
+
+"I'm aware of that, you idiot. I have waded through your report, all
+thirty-five pages of it, and I only wish you hadn't been so
+long-winded. Now I want to hear what happened directly from you. Well?"
+
+The three doctors looked at each other. Then Jack began the story,
+starting with the first hesitant "greeting" that had come through to
+them. He told everything that had happened without embellishments: their
+first analysis of the nature of the problem, the biochemical and medical
+survey that they ran on the afflicted people, his own failure to make
+the diagnosis, the incident of Fuzzy's sudden affliction, and the
+strange solution that had finally come from it. As he talked the Black
+Doctor sat back with his eyes half closed, his face blank, listening and
+nodding from time to time as the story proceeded.
+
+And Jack was carefully honest and fair in his account. "We were all of
+us lost, until Dal Timgar saw the significance of what had happened to
+Fuzzy," he said. "His idea of putting the creature through the filter
+gave us our first specimen of the isolated virus, and showed us how to
+obtain the antibody. Then after we saw what happened with our initial
+series of injections, we were really at sea, and by then we couldn't
+reach a hospital ship for help of any kind." He went on to relate Dal's
+idea that the virus itself might be the intelligent creature, and
+recounted the things that happened after Dal went down to talk to the
+spokesman again with Fuzzy on his shoulder.
+
+Through it all the Black Doctor listened sourly, glancing occasionally
+at Dal and saying nothing. "So is that all?" he said when Jack had
+finished.
+
+"Not quite," Jack said. "I want it to be on the record that it was my
+failure in diagnosis that got us into trouble. I don't want any
+misunderstanding about that. If I'd had the wit to think beyond the end
+of my nose, there wouldn't have been any problem."
+
+"I see," the Black Doctor said. He pointed to Dal. "So it was this one
+who really came up with the answers and directed the whole program on
+this problem, is that right?"
+
+"That's right," Jack said firmly. "He should get all the credit."
+
+Something stirred in Dal's mind and he felt Fuzzy snuggling in tightly
+to his side. He could feel the cold hostility in the Black Doctor's
+mind, and he started to say something, but the Black Doctor cut him off.
+"Do you agree to that also, Dr. Martin?" he asked Tiger.
+
+"I certainly do," Tiger said. "I'll back up the Blue Doctor right down
+the line."
+
+The Black Doctor smiled unpleasantly and nodded. "Well, I'm certainly
+happy to hear you say that, gentlemen. I might say that it is a very
+great relief to me to hear it from your own testimony. Because this time
+there shouldn't be any argument from either of you as to just where the
+responsibility lies, and I'm relieved to know that I can completely
+exonerate you two, at any rate."
+
+Jack Alvarez's jaw went slack and he stared at the Black Doctor as
+though he hadn't heard him properly. "Exonerate us?" he said. "Exonerate
+us from what?"
+
+"From the charges of incompetence, malpractice and conduct unbecoming to
+a physician which I am lodging against your colleague in the Red Service
+here," the Black Doctor said angrily. "Of course, I was confident that
+neither of you two could have contributed very much to this bungling
+mess, but it is reassuring to have your own statements of that fact on
+the record. They should carry more weight in a Council hearing than any
+plea I might make in your behalf."
+
+"But--but what do you mean by a Council hearing?" Tiger stammered. "I
+don't understand you! This--this problem is _solved_. We solved it as a
+patrol team, all of us. We sent in a brand new medical service contract
+from those people...."
+
+"Oh, yes. _That!_" The Black Doctor drew a long pink dispatch sheet from
+an inner pocket and opened it out. The doctors could see the photo
+reproductions of their signatures at the bottom. "Fortunately--for you
+two--this bit of nonsense was brought to my attention at the first relay
+station that received it. I personally accepted it and withdrew it from
+the circuit before it could reach Hospital Earth for filing."
+
+Slowly, as they watched him, he ripped the pink dispatch sheet into a
+dozen pieces and tossed it into the disposal vent. "So much for that,"
+he said slowly. "I can choose to overlook your foolishness in trying to
+cloud the important issues with a so-called 'contract' to divert
+attention, but I'm afraid I can't pay much attention to it, nor allow it
+to appear in the general report. And of course I am forced to classify
+the _Lancet_ as a plague ship until a bacteriological and virological
+examination has been completed on both ship and crew. The planet itself
+will be considered a galactic plague spot until proper measures have
+been taken to insure its decontamination."
+
+The Black Doctor drew some papers from another pocket and turned to Dal
+Timgar. "As for you, the charges are clear enough. You have broken the
+most fundamental rules of good judgment and good medicine in handling
+the 31 Brucker affair. You have permitted a General Practice Patrol ship
+to approach a potentially dangerous plague spot without any notification
+of higher authorities. You have undertaken a biochemical and medical
+survey for which you had neither the proper equipment nor the training
+qualifications, and you exposed your ship and your crewmates to an
+incredible risk in landing on such a planet. You are responsible for
+untold--possibly fatal--damage to over two hundred individuals of the
+race that called on you for help. You have even subjected the creature
+that depends upon your own race for its life and support to virtual
+slavery and possible destruction; and finally, you had the audacity to
+try to cover up your bungling with claims of arranging a medical service
+contract with an uninvestigated race."
+
+The Black Doctor broke off as an attendant came in the door and
+whispered something in his ear. Doctor Tanner shook his head angrily, "I
+can't be bothered now!"
+
+"They say it's urgent, sir."
+
+"Yes, it's always urgent." The Black Doctor heaved to his feet. "If it
+weren't for this miserable incompetent here, I wouldn't have to be
+taking precious time away from my more important duties." He scowled at
+the _Lancet_ crewmen. "You will excuse me for a moment," he said, and
+disappeared into the communications room.
+
+The moment he was gone from the room, Jack and Tiger were talking at
+once. "He couldn't really be serious," Tiger said. "It's impossible! Not
+one of those charges would hold up under investigation."
+
+"Well, I think it's a frame-up," Jack said, his voice tight with anger.
+"I knew that some people on Hospital Earth were out to get you, but I
+don't see how a Four-star Black Doctor could be a party to such a thing.
+Either someone has been misinforming him, or he just doesn't understand
+what happened."
+
+Dal shook his head. "He understands, all right, and he's the one who's
+determined to get me out of medicine. This is a flimsy excuse, but he
+has to use it, because it's now or never. He knows that if we bring in a
+contract with a new planet, and it's formally ratified, we'll all get
+our Stars and he'd never be able to block me again. And Black Doctor
+Tanner is going to be certain that I don't get that Star, or die
+trying."
+
+"But this is completely unfair," Jack protested. "He's turning our own
+words against you! You can bet that he'll have a survey crew down on
+that planet in no time, bringing home a contract just the same as the
+one we wrote, and there won't be any questions asked about it."
+
+"Except that I'll be out of the service," Dal said. "Don't worry. You'll
+get the credit in the long run. When all the dust settles, he'll be sure
+that you two are named as agents for the contract. He doesn't want to
+hurt you, it's me that he's out to get."
+
+"Well, he won't get away with it," Tiger said. "We can see to that. It's
+not too late to retract our stories. If he thinks he can get rid of you
+with something that wasn't your fault, he's going to find out that he
+has to get rid of a lot more than just you."
+
+But Dal was shaking his head. "Not this time, Tiger. This time you keep
+out of it."
+
+"What do you mean, keep out of it?" Tiger cried. "Do you think I'm going
+to stand by quietly and watch him cut you down?"
+
+"That's exactly what you're going to do," Dal said sharply. "I meant
+what I said. I want you to keep your mouth shut. Don't say anything more
+at all, just let it be."
+
+"But I can't stand by and do nothing! When a friend of mine needs
+help--"
+
+"Can't you get it through your thick skull that this time I don't want
+your help?" Dal said. "Do me a favor this time. _Leave me alone._ Don't
+stick your thumb in the pie."
+
+Tiger just stared at the little Garvian. "Look, Dal, all I'm trying to
+do--"
+
+"I know what you're trying to do," Dal snapped, "and I don't want any
+part of it. I don't need your help, I don't _want_ it. Why do you have
+to force it down my throat?"
+
+There was a long silence. Then Tiger spread his hands helplessly.
+"Okay," he said, "if that's the way you want it." He turned away from
+Dal, his big shoulders slumping. "I've only been trying to make up for
+some of the dirty breaks you've been handed since you came to Hospital
+Earth."
+
+"I know that," Dal said, "and I've appreciated it. Sometimes it's been
+the only thing that's kept me going. But that doesn't mean that you own
+me. Friendship is one thing; proprietorship is something else. I'm not
+your private property."
+
+He saw the look on Tiger's face, as though he had suddenly turned and
+slapped him viciously across the face. "Look, I know it sounds awful,
+but I can't help it. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to
+change things with us, but _I'm a person just like you are_. I can't go
+on leaning on you any longer. Everybody has to stand on his own
+somewhere along the line. You do, and I do, too. And that goes for Jack,
+too."
+
+They heard the door to the communications shack open, and the Black
+Doctor was back in the room. "Well?" he said. "Am I interrupting
+something?" He glanced sharply at the tight-lipped doctors. "The call
+was from the survey section," he went on blandly. "A survey crew is on
+its way to 31 Brucker to start gathering some useful information on the
+situation. But that is neither here nor there. You have heard the
+charges against the Red Doctor here. Is there anything any of you want
+to say?"
+
+Tiger and Jack looked at each other. The silence in the room was
+profound.
+
+The Black Doctor turned to Dal. "And what about you?"
+
+"I have something to say, but I'd like to talk to you alone."
+
+"As you wish. You two will return to your quarters and stay there."
+
+"The attendant, too," Dal said.
+
+The Black Doctor's eyes glinted and met Dal's for a moment. Then he
+shrugged and nodded to his attendant. "Step outside, please. We have a
+private matter to discuss."
+
+The Black Doctor turned his attention to the papers on the desk as Dal
+stood before him with Fuzzy sitting in the crook of his arm. From the
+moment that the notice of the inspection ship's approach had come to the
+_Lancet_, Dal had known what was coming. He had been certain what the
+purpose of the detainment was, and who the inspector would be, yet he
+had not really been worried. In the back of his mind, a small,
+comfortable thought had been sustaining him.
+
+It didn't really matter how hostile or angry Black Doctor Tanner might
+be; he knew that in a last-ditch stand there was one way the Black
+Doctor could be handled.
+
+He remembered the dramatic shift from hostility to friendliness among
+the Bruckians when he had come down from the ship with Fuzzy on his
+shoulder. Before then, he had never considered using his curious power
+to protect himself and gain an end; but since then, without even
+consciously bringing it to mind, he had known that the next time would
+be easier. If it ever came to a showdown with Black Doctor Tanner, a
+trap from which he couldn't free himself, there was still this way. _The
+Black Doctor would never know what happened_, he thought. _It would just
+seem to him, suddenly, that he had been looking at things the wrong way.
+No one would ever know._
+
+But he knew, even as the thought came to mind, that this was not so.
+Now, face to face with the showdown, he knew that it was no good. One
+person would know what had happened: himself. On 31 Brucker, he had
+convinced himself that the end justified the means; here it was
+different.
+
+For a moment, as Black Doctor Tanner stared up at him through the
+horn-rimmed glasses, Dal wavered. Why should he hesitate to protect
+himself? he thought angrily. This attack against him was false and
+unfair, trumped up for the sole purpose of destroying his hopes and
+driving him out of the Service. Why shouldn't he grasp at any means,
+fair or unfair, to fight it?
+
+But he could hear the echo of Black Doctor Arnquist's words in his mind:
+_I beg of you not to use it. No matter what happens, don't use it._ Of
+course, Doctor Arnquist would never know, for sure, that he had broken
+faith ... but _he_ would know....
+
+"Well," Black Doctor Tanner was saying, "speak up. I can't waste much
+more time dealing with you. If you have something to say, say it."
+
+Dal sighed. He lifted Fuzzy down and slipped him gently into his jacket
+pocket. "These charges against me are not true," he said.
+
+The Black Doctor shrugged. "Your own crewmates support them with their
+statements."
+
+"That's not the point. They're not true, and you know it as well as I
+do. You've deliberately rigged them up to build a case against me."
+
+The Black Doctor's face turned dark and his hands clenched on the papers
+on the desk. "Are you suggesting that I have nothing better to do than
+to rig false charges against one probationer out of seventy-five
+thousand traveling the galaxy?"
+
+"I'm suggesting that we are alone here," Dal said. "Nobody else is
+listening. Just for once, right now, we can be honest. We both know
+what you're trying to do to me. I'd just like to hear you admit it
+once."
+
+The Black Doctor slammed his fist down on the table. "I don't have to
+listen to insolence like this," he roared.
+
+"Yes, you do," Dal said. "Just this once. Then I'll be through."
+Suddenly Dal's words were tumbling out of control, and his whole body
+was trembling with anger. "You have been determined from the very
+beginning that I should never finish the medical training that I
+started. You've tried to block me time after time, in every way you
+could think of. You've almost succeeded, but never quite made it until
+this time. But now you _have_ to make it. If that contract were to go
+through I'd get my Star, and you'd never again be able to do anything
+about it. So it's now or never if you're going to break me."
+
+"Nonsense!" the Black Doctor stormed. "I wouldn't lower myself to meddle
+with your kind. The charges speak for themselves."
+
+"Not if you look at them carefully. You claim I failed to notify
+Hospital Earth that we had entered a plague area--but our records of our
+contact with the planet prove that we did only what any patrol ship
+would have done when the call came in. We didn't have enough information
+to know that there was a plague there, and when we finally did know the
+truth we could no longer make contact with Hospital Earth. You claim
+that I brought harm to two hundred of the natives there, yet if you
+study our notes and records, you will see that our errors there were
+unavoidable. We couldn't have done anything else under the
+circumstances, and if we hadn't done what we did, we would have been
+ignoring the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment which we've
+been taught. And your charges don't mention that by possibly harming two
+hundred of the Bruckians, we found a way to save two million of them
+from absolute destruction."
+
+The Black Doctor glared at him. "The charges will stand up, I'll see to
+that."
+
+"Oh, I'm sure you will! You can ram them through and make them stick
+before anybody ever has a chance to examine them carefully. You have the
+power to do it. And by the time an impartial judge could review all the
+records, your survey ship will have been there and gathered so much more
+data and muddied up the field so thoroughly that no one will ever be
+certain that the charges aren't true. But you and I know that they
+wouldn't really hold up under inspection. We know that they're false
+right down the line and that you're the one who is responsible for
+them."
+
+The Black Doctor grew darker, and he trembled with rage as he drew
+himself to his feet. Dal could feel his hatred almost like a physical
+blow and his voice was almost a shriek.
+
+"All right," he said, "if you insist, then the charges are lies, made up
+specifically to break you, and I'm going to push them through if I have
+to jeopardize my reputation to do it. You could have bowed out
+gracefully at any time along the way and saved yourself dishonor and
+disgrace, but you wouldn't do it. Now, I'm going to force you to. I've
+worked my lifetime long to build the reputation of Hospital Earth and of
+the Earthmen that go out to all the planets as representatives. I've
+worked to make the Confederation respect Hospital Earth and the Earthmen
+who are her doctors. You don't belong here with us. You forced yourself
+in, you aren't an Earthman and you don't have the means or resources to
+be a doctor from Hospital Earth. If you succeed, a thousand others will
+follow in your footsteps, chipping away at the reputation that we have
+worked to build, and I'm not going to allow one incompetent alien
+bungler pretending to be a surgeon to walk in and destroy the thing I've
+fought to build--"
+
+The Black Doctor's voice had grown shrill, almost out of control. But
+now suddenly he broke off, his mouth still working, and his face went
+deathly white. The finger he was pointing at Dal wavered and fell. He
+clutched at his chest, his breath coming in great gasps and staggered
+back into the chair. "Something's happened," his voice croaked. "I can't
+breathe."
+
+Dal stared at him in horror for a moment, then leaped across the room
+and jammed his thumb against the alarm bell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+THE TRIAL
+
+
+Red Doctor Dal Timgar knew at once that there would be no problem in
+diagnosis here. The Black Doctor slumped back in his seat, gasping for
+air, his face twisted in pain as he labored just to keep on breathing.
+Tiger and Jack burst into the room, and Dal could tell that they knew
+instantly what had happened.
+
+"Coronary," Jack said grimly.
+
+Dal nodded. "The question is, just how bad."
+
+"Get the cardiograph in here. We'll soon see."
+
+But the electrocardiograph was not needed to diagnose the nature of the
+trouble. All three doctors had seen the picture often enough--the
+sudden, massive blockage of circulation to the heart that was so common
+to creatures with central circulatory pumps, the sort of catastrophic
+accident which could cause irreparable crippling or sudden death within
+a matter of minutes.
+
+Tiger injected some medicine to ease the pain, and started oxygen to
+help the labored breathing, but the old man's color did not improve. He
+was too weak to talk; he just lay helplessly gasping for air as they
+lifted him up onto a bed. Then Jack took an electrocardiograph tracing
+and shook his head.
+
+"We'd better get word back to Hospital Earth, and fast," he said
+quietly. "He just waited a little too long for that cardiac transplant,
+that's all. This is a bad one. Tell them we need a surgeon out here just
+as fast as they can move, or the Black Service is going to have a dead
+physician on its hands."
+
+There was a sound across the room, and the Black Doctor motioned feebly
+to Tiger. "The cardiogram," he gasped. "Let me see it."
+
+"There's nothing for you to see," Tiger said. "You mustn't do anything
+to excite yourself."
+
+"Let me see it." Dr. Tanner took the thin strip of paper and ran it
+quickly through his fingers. Then he dropped it on the bed and lay his
+head back hopelessly. "Too late," he said, so softly they could hardly
+hear him. "Too late for help now."
+
+Tiger checked his blood pressure and listened to his heart. "It will
+only take a few hours to get help," he said. "You rest and sleep now.
+There's plenty of time."
+
+He joined Dal and Jack in the corridor. "I'm afraid he's right, this
+time," he said. "The damage is severe, and he hasn't the strength to
+hold out very long. He might last long enough for a surgeon and
+operating team to get here, but I doubt it. We'd better get the word
+off."
+
+A few moments later he put the earphones aside. "It'll take six hours
+for the nearest help to get here," he said. "Maybe five and a half if
+they really crowd it. But when they get a look at that cardiogram on the
+screen they'll just throw up their hands. He's got to have a transplant,
+nothing less, and even if we can keep him alive until a surgical team
+gets here the odds are a thousand to one against his surviving the
+surgery."
+
+"Well, he's been asking for it," Jack said. "They've been trying to get
+him into the hospital for a cardiac transplant for years. Everybody's
+known that one of those towering rages would get him sooner or later."
+
+"Maybe he'll hold on better than we think," Dal said. "Let's watch and
+wait."
+
+But the Black Doctor was not doing well. Moment by moment he grew
+weaker, laboring harder for air as his blood pressure crept slowly down.
+Half an hour later the pain returned; Tiger took another tracing while
+Dal checked his venous pressure and shock level.
+
+As he finished, Dal felt the Black Doctor's eyes on him. "It's going to
+be all right," he said. "There'll be time for help to come."
+
+Feebly the Black Doctor shook his head. "No time," he said. "Can't wait
+that long." Dal could see the fear in the old man's eyes. His lips began
+to move again as though there were something more he wanted to say; but
+then his face hardened, and he turned his head away helplessly.
+
+Dal walked around the bed and looked down at the tracing, comparing it
+with the first one that was taken. "What do you think, Tiger?"
+
+"It's no good. He'll never make it for five more hours."
+
+"What about right now?"
+
+Tiger shook his head. "It's a terrible surgical risk."
+
+"But every minute of waiting makes it worse, right?"
+
+"That's right."
+
+"Then I think we'll stop waiting," Dal said. "We have a prosthetic heart
+in condition for use, don't we?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Good. Get it ready now." It seemed as though someone else were
+talking. "You'll have to be first assistant, Tiger. We'll get him onto
+the heart-lung machine, and if we don't have help available by then,
+we'll have to try to complete the transplant. Jack, you'll give
+anaesthesia, and it will be a tricky job. Try to use local blocks as
+much as you can, and have the heart-lung machine ready well in advance.
+We'll only have a few seconds to make the shift. Now let's get moving."
+
+Tiger stared at him. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"
+
+"I never wanted anything less in my life," Dal said fervently. "But do
+you think he can survive until a Hospital Ship arrives?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then it seems to me that I don't have any choice. You two don't need to
+worry. This is a surgical problem now, and I'll take full
+responsibility."
+
+The Black Doctor was watching him, and Dal knew he had heard the
+conversation. Now the old man lay helplessly as they moved about getting
+the surgical room into preparation. Jack prepared the anaesthetics,
+checked and rechecked the complex heart-lung machine which could
+artificially support circulation and respiration at the time that the
+damaged heart was separated from its great vessels. The transplant
+prosthetic heart had been grown in the laboratories on Hospital Earth
+from embryonic tissue; Tiger removed it from the frozen specimen locker
+and brought it to normal body temperature in the special warm saline
+bath designed for the purpose.
+
+Throughout the preparations the Black Doctor lay watching, still
+conscious enough to recognize what was going on, attempting from time to
+time to shake his head in protest but not quite succeeding. Finally Dal
+came to the bedside. "Don't be afraid," he said gently to the old man.
+"It isn't safe to try to delay until the ship from Hospital Earth can
+get here. Every minute we wait is counting against you. I think I can
+manage the transplant if I start now. I know you don't like it, but I am
+the Red Doctor in authority on this ship. If I have to order you, I
+will."
+
+The Black Doctor lay silent for a moment, staring at Dal. Then the fear
+seemed to fade from his face, and the anger disappeared. With a great
+effort he moved his head to nod. "All right, son," he said softly. "Do
+the best you know how."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dal knew from the moment he made the decision to go ahead that the thing
+he was undertaking was all but hopeless.
+
+There was little or no talk as the three doctors worked at the operating
+table. The overhead light in the ship's tiny surgery glowed brightly;
+the only sound in the room was the wheeze of the anaesthesia apparatus,
+the snap of clamps and the doctors' own quiet breathing as they worked
+desperately against time.
+
+Dal felt as if he were in a dream, working like an automaton, going
+through mechanical motions that seemed completely unrelated to the
+living patient that lay on the operating table. In his training he had
+assisted at hundreds of organ transplant operations; he himself had done
+dozens of cardiac transplants, with experienced surgeons assisting and
+guiding him until the steps of the procedure had become almost second
+nature. On Hospital Earth, with the unparalleled medical facilities
+available there, and with well-trained teams of doctors, anaesthetists
+and nurses the technique of replacing an old worn-out damaged heart with
+a new and healthy one had become commonplace. It posed no more threat to
+a patient than a simple appendectomy had posed three centuries before.
+
+But here in the patrol ship's operating room under emergency conditions
+there seemed little hope of success. Already the Black Doctor had
+suffered violent shock from the damage that had occurred in his heart.
+Already he was clinging to life by a fragile thread; the additional
+shock of the surgery, of the anaesthesia and the necessary conversion to
+the heart-lung machine while the delicate tissues of the new heart were
+fitted and sutured into place vessel by vessel was more than any patient
+could be expected to survive.
+
+Yet Dal had known when he saw the second cardiogram that the attempt
+would have to be made. Now he worked swiftly, his frail body engulfed in
+the voluminous surgical gown, his thin fingers working carefully with
+the polished instruments. Speed and skill were all that could save the
+Black Doctor now, to offer him the one chance in a thousand that he had
+for survival.
+
+But the speed and skill had to be Dal's. Dal knew that, and the
+knowledge was like a lead weight strapped to his shoulders. If Black
+Doctor Hugo Tanner was fighting for his life now, Dal knew that he too
+was fighting for his life--the only kind of life that he wanted, the
+life of a physician.
+
+Black Doctor Tanner's antagonism to him as an alien, as an incompetent,
+as one who was unworthy to wear the collar and cuff of a physician from
+Hospital Earth, was common knowledge. Dal realized with perfect clarity
+that if he failed now, his career as a physician would be over; no one,
+not even himself, would ever be entirely certain that he had not
+somehow, in some dim corner of his mind, allowed himself to fail.
+
+Yet if he had not made the attempt and the Black Doctor had died before
+help had come, there would always be those who would accuse him of
+delaying on purpose.
+
+His mouth was dry; he longed for a drink of water, even though he knew
+that no water could quench this kind of thirst. His fingers grew numb as
+he worked, and moment by moment the sense of utter hopelessness grew
+stronger in his mind. Tiger worked stolidly across the table from him,
+inexpert help at best because of the sketchy surgical training he had
+had. Even his solid presence in support here did not lighten the burden
+for Dal. There was nothing that Tiger could do or say that would help
+things or change things now. Even Fuzzy, waiting alone on his perch in
+the control room, could not help him now. Nothing could help now but his
+own individual skill as a surgeon, and his bitter determination that he
+must not and would not fail.
+
+But his fingers faltered as a thousand questions welled up in his mind.
+Was he doing this right? This vessel here ... clamp it and tie it? Or
+dissect it out and try to preserve it? This nerve plexus ... which one
+was it? How important? How were the blood pressure and respirations
+doing? Was the Black Doctor holding his own under the assault of the
+surgery?
+
+The more Dal tried to hurry the more he seemed to be wading through
+waist-deep mud, unable to make his fingers do what he wanted them to do.
+How could he save ten seconds, twenty seconds, a half a minute? That
+half a minute might make the difference between success or failure, yet
+the seconds ticked by swiftly and the procedure was going slowly.
+
+Too slowly. He reached a point where he thought he could not go on. His
+mind was searching desperately for help--any kind of help, something to
+lean on, something to brace him and give him support. And then quite
+suddenly he understood something clearly that had been nibbling at the
+corners of his mind for a long time. It was as if someone had snapped on
+a floodlight in a darkened room, and he saw something he had never seen
+before.
+
+He saw that from the first day he had stepped down from the Garvian ship
+that had brought him to Hospital Earth to begin his medical training, he
+had been relying upon crutches to help him.
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist had been a crutch upon whom he could lean. Tiger,
+for all his clumsy good-heartedness and for all the help and protection
+he had offered, had been a crutch. Fuzzy, who had been by his side since
+the day he was born, was still another kind of crutch to fall back on, a
+way out, a port of haven in the storm. They were crutches, every one,
+and he had leaned on them heavily.
+
+But now there was no crutch to lean on. He had a quick mind with good
+training. He had two nimble hands that knew their job, and two legs that
+were capable of supporting his weight, frail as they were. He knew now
+that he had to stand on them squarely, for the first time in his life.
+
+And suddenly he realized that this was as it should be. It seemed so
+clear, so obvious and unmistakable that he wondered how he could have
+failed to recognize it for so long. If he could not depend on himself,
+then Black Doctor Hugo Tanner would have been right all along. If he
+could not do this job that was before him on his own strength, standing
+on his own two legs without crutches to lean on, how could he claim to
+be a competent physician? What right did he have to the goal he sought
+if he had to earn it on the strength of the help of others? It was _he_
+who wanted to be a Star Surgeon--not Fuzzy, not Tiger, nor anyone else.
+
+He felt his heart thudding in his chest, and he saw the operation before
+him as if he were standing in an amphitheater peering down over some
+other surgeon's shoulder. Suddenly everything else was gone from his
+mind but the immediate task at hand. His fingers began to move more
+swiftly, with a confidence he had never felt before. The decisions to be
+made arose, and he made them without hesitation, and knew as he made
+them that they were right.
+
+And for the first time the procedure began to move. He murmured
+instructions to Jack from time to time, and placed Tiger's clumsy hands
+in the places he wanted them for retraction. "Not there, back a little,"
+he said. "That's right. Now hold this clamp and release it slowly while
+I tie, then reclamp it. Slowly now ... that's the way! Jack, check that
+pressure again."
+
+It seemed as though someone else were doing the surgery, directing his
+hands step by step in the critical work that had to be done. Dal placed
+the connections to the heart-lung machine perfectly, and moved with new
+swiftness and confidence as the great blood vessels were clamped off and
+the damaged heart removed. A quick check of vital signs, chemistries,
+oxygenation, a sharp instruction to Jack, a caution to Tiger, and the
+new prosthetic heart was in place. He worked now with painstaking care,
+manipulating the micro-sutures that would secure the new vessels to the
+old so firmly that they were almost indistinguishable from a healed
+wound, and he knew that it was going _right_ now, that whether the
+patient ultimately survived or not, he had made the right decision and
+had carried it through with all the skill at his command.
+
+And then the heart-lung machine fell silent again, and the carefully
+applied nodal stimulator flicked on and off, and slowly, at first
+hesitantly, then firmly and vigorously, the new heart began its endless
+pumping chore. The Black Doctor's blood pressure moved up to a healthy
+level and stabilized; the gray flesh of his face slowly became suffused
+with healthy pink. It was over, and Dal was walking out of the surgery,
+his hands trembling so violently that he could hardly get his gown off.
+He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and he could see the silent
+pride in the others' faces as they joined him in the dressing room to
+change clothes.
+
+He knew then that no matter what happened he had vindicated himself.
+Half an hour later, back in the sickbay, the Black Doctor was awake,
+breathing slowly and easily without need of supplemental oxygen. Only
+the fine sweat standing out on his forehead gave indication of the
+ordeal he had been through.
+
+Swiftly and clinically Dal checked the vital signs as the old man
+watched him. He was about to turn the pressure cuff over to Jack and
+leave when the Black Doctor said, "Wait."
+
+Dal turned to him. "Yes, sir?"
+
+"You did it?" the Black Doctor said softly.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"It's finished? The transplant is done?"
+
+"Yes," Dal said. "It went well, and you can rest now. You were a good
+patient."
+
+For the first time Dal saw a smile cross the old man's face. "A foolish
+patient, perhaps," he said, so softly that no one but Dal could hear,
+"but not so foolish now, not so foolish that I cannot recognize a good
+doctor when I see one."
+
+And with a smile he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+STAR SURGEON
+
+
+It was amazing to Dal Timgar just how good it seemed to be back on
+Hospital Earth again.
+
+In the time he had been away as a crewman of the _Lancet_, the seasons
+had changed, and the port of Philadelphia lay under the steaming summer
+sun. As Dal stepped off the shuttle ship to join the hurrying crowds in
+the great space-port, it seemed almost as though he were coming home.
+
+He thought for a moment of the night not so long before when he had
+waited here for the shuttle to Hospital Seattle, to attend the meeting
+of the medical training council. He had worn no uniform then, not even
+the collar and cuff of the probationary physician, and he remembered his
+despair that night when he had thought that his career as a physician
+from Hospital Earth was at an end.
+
+Now he was returning by shuttle from Hospital Seattle to the port of
+Philadelphia again, completing the cycle that had been started many
+months before. But things were different now. The scarlet cape of the
+Red Service of Surgery hung from his slender shoulders now, and the
+light of the station room caught the polished silver emblem on his
+collar. It was a tiny bit of metal, but its significance was enormous.
+It announced to the world Dal Timgar's final and permanent acceptance as
+a physician; but more, it symbolized the far-reaching distances he had
+already traveled, and would travel again, in the service of Hospital
+Earth.
+
+It was the silver star of the Star Surgeon.
+
+The week just past had been both exciting and confusing. The hospital
+ship had arrived five hours after Black Doctor Hugo Tanner had recovered
+from his anaesthesia, moving in on the _Lancet_ in frantic haste and
+starting the shipment of special surgical supplies, anaesthetics and
+maintenance equipment across in lifeboats almost before contact had been
+stabilized. A large passenger boat hurtled away from the hospital ship's
+side, carrying a pair of Four-star surgeons, half a dozen Three-star
+Surgeons, two Radiologists, two Internists, a dozen nurses and another
+Four-star Black Doctor across to the _Lancet_; and when they arrived at
+the patrol ship's entrance lock, they discovered that their haste had
+been in vain.
+
+It was like Grand Rounds in the general wards of Hospital Philadelphia,
+with the Four-star Surgeons in the lead as they tramped aboard the
+patrol ship. They found Black Doctor Tanner sitting quietly at his
+bedside reading a journal of pathology and taking notes. He glared up at
+them when they burst in the door without even knocking.
+
+"But are you feeling well, sir?" the chief surgeon asked him for the
+third time.
+
+"Of course I'm feeling well. Do you think I'd be sitting here if I
+weren't?" the Black Doctor growled. "Dr. Timgar is my surgeon and the
+physician in charge of this case. Talk to him. He can give you all the
+details of the matter."
+
+"You mean you permitted a probationary physician to perform this kind of
+surgery?" The Four-star Surgeon cried incredulously.
+
+"I did not!" the Black Doctor snapped. "He had to drag me kicking and
+screaming into the operating room. But fortunately for me, this
+particular probationary physician had the courage of his convictions, as
+well as wit enough to realize that I would not survive if he waited for
+you to gather your army together. But I think you will find the surgery
+was handled with excellent skill. Again, I must refer you to Dr. Timgar
+for the details. I was not paying attention to the technique of the
+surgery, I assure you."
+
+"But sir," the chief surgeon broke in, "how could there have been
+surgery of any sort here? The dispatch that came to us listed the
+_Lancet_ as a plague ship--"
+
+"_Plague ship!_" the Black Doctor exploded. "Oh, yes. Egad!
+I--hum!--imagine that the dispatcher must have gotten his signals mixed
+somehow. Well, I suppose you want to examine me. Let's have it over
+with."
+
+The doctors examined him within an inch of his life. They exhausted
+every means of physical, laboratory and radiological examination short
+of re-opening his chest and looking in, and at last the chief surgeon
+was forced reluctantly to admit that there was nothing left for him to
+do but provide post-operative follow-up care for the irascible old man.
+
+And by the time the examination was over and the Black Doctor was moved
+aboard the hospital ship, word had come through official channels to the
+_Lancet_ announcing that the quarantine order had been a dispatcher's
+unfortunate error, and directing the ship to return at once to Hospital
+Earth with the new contract that had been signed on 31 Brucker VII. The
+crewmen of the _Lancet_ had special orders to report immediately to the
+medical training council at Hospital Seattle upon arrival, in order to
+give their formal General Practice Patrol reports and to receive their
+appointments respectively as Star Physician, Star Diagnostician and Star
+Surgeon. The orders were signed with the personal mark of Hugo Tanner,
+Physician of the Black Service of Pathology.
+
+Now the ceremony and celebration in Hospital Seattle were over, and Dal
+had another appointment to keep. He lifted Fuzzy from his elbow and
+tucked him safely into an inner jacket pocket to protect him from the
+crowd in the station, and moved swiftly through to the subway tubes.
+
+He had expected to see Black Doctor Arnquist at the investment
+ceremonies, but there had been neither sign nor word from him. Dal tried
+to reach him after the ceremonies were over; all he could learn was that
+the Black Doctor was unavailable. And then a message had come through to
+Dal under the official Hospital Earth headquarters priority, requesting
+him to present himself at once at the grand council building at Hospital
+Philadelphia for an interview of the utmost importance.
+
+He followed the directions on the dispatch now, and reached the grand
+council building well ahead of the appointed time. He followed corridors
+and rode elevators until he reached the twenty-second story office suite
+where he had been directed to report. The whole building seemed alive
+with bustle, as though something of enormous importance was going on;
+high-ranking physicians of all the services were hurrying about,
+gathering in little groups at the elevators and talking among themselves
+in hushed voices. Even more strange, Dal saw delegation after delegation
+of alien creatures moving through the building, some in the special
+atmosphere-maintaining devices necessary for their survival on Earth,
+some characteristically alone and unaccompanied, others in the company
+of great retinues of underlings. Dal paused in the main concourse of
+the building as he saw two such delegations arrive by special car from
+the port of Philadelphia.
+
+"Odd," he said quietly, reaching in to stroke Fuzzy's head. "Quite a
+gathering of the clans, eh? What do you think? Last time I saw a
+gathering like this was back at home during one of the centennial
+conclaves of the Galactic Confederation."
+
+On the twenty-second floor, a secretary ushered him into an inner
+office. There he found Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist, in busy
+conference with a Blue Doctor, a Green Doctor and a surgeon. The Black
+Doctor looked up, and beamed. "That will be all right now, gentlemen,"
+he said. "I'll be in touch with you directly."
+
+He waited until the others had departed. Then he crossed the room and
+practically hugged Dal in delight. "It's good to see you, boy," he said,
+"and above all, it's good to see that silver star at last. You and your
+little pink friend have done a good job, a far better job than I thought
+you would do, I must admit."
+
+Dal perched Fuzzy on his shoulder. "But what is this about an interview?
+Why did you want to see me, and what are all these people doing here?"
+
+Dr. Arnquist laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "You won't have to stay
+for the council meeting. It will be a long boring session, I fear.
+Doubtless every single one of these delegates at some time in the next
+few days will be standing up to give us a three hour oration, and it is
+my ill fortune as a Four-star Black Doctor to have to sit and listen and
+smile through it all. But in the end, it will be worth it, and I thought
+that you should at least know that your name will be mentioned many
+times during these sessions."
+
+"My name?"
+
+"You didn't know that you were a guinea pig, did you?" the Black Doctor
+said.
+
+"I ... I'm afraid I didn't."
+
+"An unwitting tool, so to speak," the Black Doctor chuckled. "You know,
+of course, that the Galactic Confederation has been delaying and
+stalling any action on Hospital Earth's application for full status as
+one of the Confederation powers and for a seat on the council. We had
+fulfilled two criteria for admission without difficulty--we had resolved
+our problems at home so that we were free from war on our own planet,
+and we had a talent that is much needed and badly in demand in the
+galaxy, a job to do that would fit into the Confederation's
+organization. But the Confederation has always had a third criterion for
+its membership, a criterion that Hospital Earth could not so easily
+prove or demonstrate."
+
+The Black Doctor smiled. "After all, there could be no place in a true
+Confederation of worlds for any one race of people that considered
+itself superior to all the rest. No race can be admitted to the
+Confederation until its members have demonstrated that they are capable
+of tolerance, willing to accept the members of other races on an equal
+footing. And it has always been the nature of Earthmen to be intolerant,
+to assume that one who looks strange and behaves differently must
+somehow be inferior."
+
+The Black Doctor crossed the room and opened a folder on the desk. "You
+can read the details some other time, if you like. You were selected by
+the Galactic Confederation from a thousand possible applicants, to serve
+as a test case, to see if a place could be made for you on Hospital
+Earth. No one here was told of your position--not even you--although
+certain of us suspected the truth. The Confederation wanted to see if a
+well-qualified, likeable and intelligent creature from another world
+would be accepted and elevated to equal rank as a physician with
+Earthmen."
+
+Dal stared at him. "And I was the one?"
+
+"You were the one. It was a struggle, all right, but Hospital Earth has
+finally satisfied the Confederation. At the end of this conclave we will
+be admitted to full membership and given a permanent seat and vote in
+the galactic council. Our probationary period will be over. But enough
+of that. What about you? What are your plans? What do you propose to do
+now that you have that star on your collar?"
+
+They talked then about the future. Tiger Martin had been appointed to
+the survey crew returning to 31 Brucker VII, at his own request, while
+Jack was accepting a temporary teaching post in the great diagnostic
+clinic at Hospital Philadelphia. There were a dozen things that Dal had
+considered, but for the moment he wanted only to travel from medical
+center to medical center on Hospital Earth, observing and studying in
+order to decide how he would best like to use his abilities and his
+position as a Physician from Hospital Earth. "It will be in surgery, of
+course," he said. "Just where in surgery, or what kind, I don't know
+just yet. But there will be time enough to decide that."
+
+"Then go along," Dr. Arnquist said, "with my congratulations and
+blessing. You have taught us a great deal, and perhaps you have learned
+some things at the same time."
+
+Dal hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. "I've learned some things,"
+he said, "but there's still one thing that I want to do before I go."
+
+He lifted his little pink friend gently down from his shoulder and
+rested him in the crook of his arm. Fuzzy looked up at him, blinking his
+shoe-button eyes happily. "You asked me once to leave Fuzzy with you,
+and I refused. I couldn't see then how I could possibly do without him;
+even the thought was frightening. But now I think I've changed my mind."
+
+He reached out and placed Fuzzy gently in the Black Doctor's hand. "I
+want you to keep him," he said. "I don't think I'll need him any more.
+I'll miss him, but I think it would be better if I don't have him now.
+Be good to him, and let me visit him once in a while."
+
+The Black Doctor looked at Dal, and then lifted Fuzzy up to his own
+shoulder. For a moment the little creature shivered as if afraid. Then
+he blinked twice at Dal, trustingly, and snuggled in comfortably against
+the Black Doctor's neck.
+
+Without a word Dal turned and walked out of the office. As he stepped
+down the corridor, he waited fearfully for the wave of desolation and
+loneliness he had felt before when Fuzzy was away from him.
+
+But there was no hint of those desolate feelings in his mind now. And
+after all, he thought, why should there be? He was not a Garvian any
+longer. He was a Star Surgeon from Hospital Earth.
+
+He smiled as he stepped from the elevator into the main lobby and
+crossed through the crowd to the street doors. He pulled his scarlet
+cape tightly around his throat. Drawing himself up to the full height of
+which he was capable, he walked out of the building and strode down onto
+the street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+_Also by Alan E. Nourse_
+
+
+ROCKET TO LIMBO
+
+SCAVENGERS IN SPACE
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Star Surgeon, by Alan Nourse
+
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Star Surgeon, by Alan Nourse
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Star Surgeon
+
+Author: Alan Nourse
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2006 [EBook #18492]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAR SURGEON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Annika Feilbach and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
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+</pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+<h1>STAR SURGEON</h1>
+
+<h3><i>by</i></h3>
+
+<h2>ALAN E. NOURSE</h2>
+
+<div class="centre">
+<img src="images/titlepage.jpg"
+alt="title page"
+title="title page" />
+</div>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="centre">DAVID McKAY COMPANY, <span class="smcap">Inc.</span><br />
+NEW YORK</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="centre"><span class="smcap">Copyright &copy; 1959, 1960 by Alan E. Nourse</span></p>
+
+<p class="centre"><i>All rights reserved</i></p>
+
+<p class="centre">LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NO. 60-7199</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="centre">Manufactured in the United States of America<br />
+VAN REES PRESS &middot; NEW YORK</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="centre"><i>Typography by Charles M. Todd</i></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="centre">Sixth Printing, April 1973</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="centre">Part of this book was published in<br />
+<i>Amazing Science Fiction Stories</i></p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<p class="note">Transcriber's note:<br />
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
+that the copyright on this publication was renewed.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+
+
+<table cellpadding="2" summary="table of contents">
+<tr><td align="right">1</td><td><a href="#chapter1">The Intruder</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page3">3</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">2</td><td><a href="#chapter2">Hospital Seattle</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page15">15</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">3</td><td><a href="#chapter3">The Inquisition</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page25">25</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">4</td><td><a href="#chapter4">The Galactic Pill Peddlers</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page37">37</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">5</td><td><a href="#chapter5">Crisis on Morua VIII</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page54">54</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">6</td><td><a href="#chapter6">Tiger Makes a Promise</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"> <a href="#page66">66</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">7</td><td><a href="#chapter7">Alarums and Excursions</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page78">78</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">8</td><td><a href="#chapter8">Plague!</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page98">98</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">9</td><td><a href="#chapter9">The Incredible People</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page107">107</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">10</td><td><a href="#chapter10">The Boomerang Clue</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page121">121</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">11</td><td><a href="#chapter11">Dal Breaks a Promise</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page136">136</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">12</td><td><a href="#chapter12">The Showdown</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page151">151</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">13</td><td><a href="#chapter13">The Trial</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page165">165</a></td></tr>
+<tr><td align="right">14</td><td><a href="#chapter14">Star Surgeon</a></td><td></td>
+<td align="right"><a href="#page175">175</a></td></tr>
+</table>
+
+
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<h2>STAR SURGEON</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<p><a name="page3" id="page3"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter1" id="chapter1"></a>CHAPTER 1</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INTRUDER</h3>
+
+
+<p>The shuttle plane from the port of Philadelphia to Hospital
+Seattle had already gone when Dal Timgar arrived
+at the loading platform, even though he had taken great
+pains to be at least thirty minutes early for the boarding.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll just have to wait for the next one," the clerk at
+the dispatcher's desk told him unsympathetically. "There's
+nothing else you can do."</p>
+
+<p>"But I <i>can't</i> wait," Dal said. "I have to be in Hospital
+Seattle by morning." He pulled out the flight schedule and
+held it under the clerk's nose. "Look there! The shuttle
+wasn't supposed to leave for another forty-five minutes!"</p>
+
+<p>The clerk blinked at the schedule, and shrugged. "The
+seats were full, so it left," he said. "Graduation time, you
+know. Everybody has to be somewhere else, right away.
+The next shuttle goes in three hours."</p>
+
+<p>"But I had a reservation on this one," Dal insisted.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be silly," the clerk said sharply. "Only graduates
+<a name="page4" id="page4"></a>can get reservations this time of year&mdash;" He broke off to
+stare at Dal Timgar, a puzzled frown on his face. "Let me
+see that reservation."</p>
+
+<p>Dal fumbled in his pants pocket for the yellow reservation
+slip. He was wishing now that he'd kept his mouth shut.
+He was acutely conscious of the clerk's suspicious stare, and
+suddenly he felt extremely awkward. The Earth-cut trousers
+had never really fit Dal very well; his legs were too long
+and spindly, and his hips too narrow to hold the pants up
+properly. The tailor in the Philadelphia shop had tried three
+times to make a jacket fit across Dal's narrow shoulders, and
+finally had given up in despair. Now, as he handed the reservation
+slip across the counter, Dal saw the clerk staring
+at the fine gray fur that coated the back of his hand and
+arm. "Here it is," he said angrily. "See for yourself."</p>
+
+<p>The clerk looked at the slip and handed it back indifferently.
+"It's a valid reservation, all right, but there won't be
+another shuttle to Hospital Seattle for three hours," he said,
+"unless you have a priority card, of course."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I'm afraid I don't," Dal said. It was a ridiculous
+suggestion, and the clerk knew it. Only physicians in the
+Black Service of Pathology and a few Four-star Surgeons
+had the power to commandeer public aircraft whenever
+they wished. "Can I get on the next shuttle?"</p>
+
+<p>"You can try," the clerk said, "but you'd better be ready
+when they start loading. You can wait up on the ramp if you
+want to."</p>
+
+<p>Dal turned and started across the main concourse of the
+great airport. He felt a stir of motion at his side, and looked
+down at the small pink fuzz-ball sitting in the crook of his
+arm. "Looks like we're out of luck, pal," he said gloomily.
+"If we don't get on the next plane, we'll miss the hearing altogether.
+Not that it's going to do us much good to be there
+anyway."<a name="page5" id="page5"></a></p>
+
+<p>The little pink fuzz-ball on his arm opened a pair of black
+shoe-button eyes and blinked up at him, and Dal absently
+stroked the tiny creature with a finger. The fuzz-ball quivered
+happily and clung closer to Dal's side as he started up
+the long ramp to the observation platform. Automatic doors
+swung open as he reached the top, and Dal shivered in the
+damp night air. He could feel the gray fur that coated his
+back and neck rising to protect him from the coldness and
+dampness that his body was never intended by nature to
+endure.</p>
+
+<p>Below him the bright lights of the landing fields and
+terminal buildings of the port of Philadelphia spread out in
+panorama, and he thought with a sudden pang of the great
+space-port in his native city, so very different from this one
+and so unthinkably far away. The field below was teeming
+with activity, alive with men and vehicles. Moments before,
+one of Earth's great hospital ships had landed, returning
+from a cruise deep into the heart of the galaxy, bringing in
+the gravely ill from a dozen star systems for care in one of
+Earth's hospitals. Dal watched as the long line of stretchers
+poured from the ship's hold with white-clad orderlies in
+nervous attendance. Some of the stretchers were encased in
+special atmosphere tanks; a siren wailed across the field as
+an emergency truck raced up with fresh gas bottles for a
+chlorine-breather from the Betelgeuse system, and a derrick
+crew spent fifteen minutes lifting down the special
+liquid ammonia tank housing a native of Aldebaran's massive
+sixteenth planet.</p>
+
+<p>All about the field were physicians supervising the process
+of disembarcation, resplendent in the colors that signified
+their medical specialties. At the foot of the landing crane
+a Three-star Internist in the green cape of the Medical
+Service&mdash;obviously the commander of the ship&mdash;was talking<a name="page6" id="page6"></a>
+with the welcoming dignitaries of Hospital Earth. Half a
+dozen doctors in the Blue Service of Diagnosis were checking
+new lab supplies ready to be loaded aboard. Three
+young Star Surgeons swung by just below Dal with their
+bright scarlet capes fluttering in the breeze, headed for customs
+and their first Earthside liberty in months. Dal watched
+them go by, and felt the sick, bitter feeling in the pit of his
+stomach that he had felt so often in recent months.</p>
+
+<p>He had dreamed, once, of wearing the scarlet cape of the
+Red Service of Surgery too, with the silver star of the Star
+Surgeon on his collar. That had been a long time ago, over
+eight Earth years ago; the dream had faded slowly, but now
+the last vestige of hope was almost gone. He thought of the
+long years of intensive training he had just completed in the
+medical school of Hospital Philadelphia, the long nights of
+studying for exams, the long days spent in the laboratories
+and clinics in order to become a physician of Hospital
+Earth, and a wave of bitterness swept through his mind.</p>
+
+<p><i>A dream</i>, he thought hopelessly, <i>a foolish idea and nothing
+more. They knew before I started that they would never
+let me finish. They had no intention of doing so, it just
+amused them to watch me beat my head on a stone wall for
+these eight years.</i> But then he shook his head and felt a little
+ashamed of the thought. It wasn't quite true, and he knew
+it. He had known that it was a gamble from the very first.
+Black Doctor Arnquist had warned him the day he received
+his notice of admission to the medical school. "I can promise
+you nothing," the old man had said, "except a slender
+chance. There are those who will fight to the very end to
+prevent you from succeeding, and when it's all over, you
+may not win. But if you are willing to take that risk, at
+least you have a chance."</p>
+
+<p>Dal had accepted the risk with his eyes wide open. He<a name="page7" id="page7"></a>
+had done the best he could do, and now he had lost. True,
+he had not received the final, irrevocable word that he had
+been expelled from the medical service of Hospital Earth,
+but he was certain now that it was waiting for him when
+he arrived at Hospital Seattle the following morning.</p>
+
+<p>The loading ramp was beginning to fill up, and Dal saw
+half a dozen of his classmates from the medical school burst
+through the door from the station below, shifting their day
+packs from their shoulders and chattering among themselves.
+Several of them saw him, standing by himself against
+the guard rail. One or two nodded coolly and turned away;
+the others just ignored him. Nobody greeted him, nor even
+smiled. Dal turned away and stared down once again at the
+busy activity on the field below.</p>
+
+<p>"Why so gloomy, friend?" a voice behind him said.
+"You look as though the ship left without you."</p>
+
+<p>Dal looked up at the tall, dark-haired young man, towering
+at his side, and smiled ruefully. "Hello, Tiger! As a
+matter of fact, it <i>did</i> leave. I'm waiting for the next one."</p>
+
+<p>"Where to?" Frank Martin frowned down at Dal. Known
+as "Tiger" to everyone but the professors, the young man's
+nickname fit him well. He was big, even for an Earthman,
+and his massive shoulders and stubborn jaw only served to
+emphasize his bigness. Like the other recent graduates on
+the platform, he was wearing the colored cuff and collar of
+the probationary physician, in the bright green of the
+Green Service of Medicine. He reached out a huge hand
+and gently rubbed the pink fuzz-ball sitting on Dal's arm.
+"What's the trouble, Dal? Even Fuzzy looks worried.
+Where's your cuff and collar?"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't get any cuff and collar," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"Didn't you get an assignment?" Tiger stared at him. "Or
+are you just taking a leave first?"<a name="page8" id="page8"></a></p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "A permanent leave, I guess," he
+said bitterly. "There's not going to be any assignment for
+me. Let's face it, Tiger. I'm washed out."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, now look here&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean it. I've been booted, and that's all there is to it."</p>
+
+<p>"But you've been in the top ten in the class right
+through!" Tiger protested. "You know you passed your
+finals. What is this, anyway?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal reached into his jacket and handed Tiger a blue
+paper envelope. "I should have expected it from the first.
+They sent me this instead of my cuff and collar."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger opened the envelope. "From Doctor Tanner," he
+grunted. "The Black Plague himself. But what is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Read it," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"'You are hereby directed to appear before the medical
+training council in the council chambers in Hospital Seattle
+at 10:00 A.M., Friday, June 24, 2375, in order that your
+application for assignment to a General Practice Patrol ship
+may be reviewed. Insignia will not be worn. Signed, Hugo
+Tanner, Physician, Black Service of Pathology.'" Tiger
+blinked at the notice and handed it back to Dal. "I don't
+get it," he said finally. "You applied, you're as qualified as
+any of us&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Except in one way," Dal said, "and that's the way that
+counts. They don't want me, Tiger. They have never
+wanted me. They only let me go through school because
+Black Doctor Arnquist made an issue of it, and they didn't
+quite dare to veto him. But they never intended to let me
+finish, not for a minute."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the two were silent, staring down at the
+busy landing procedures below. A warning light was flickering
+across the field, signaling the landing of an incoming
+shuttle ship, and the supply cars broke from their positions<a name="page9" id="page9"></a>
+in center of the field and fled like beetles for the security
+of the garages. A loudspeaker blared, announcing the incoming
+craft. Dal Timgar turned, lifting Fuzzy gently
+from his arm into a side jacket pocket and shouldering his
+day pack. "I guess this is my flight, Tiger. I'd better get
+in line."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger Martin gripped Dal's slender four-fingered hand
+tightly. "Look," he said intensely, "this is some sort of
+mistake that the training council will straighten out. I'm
+sure of it. Lots of guys have their applications reviewed.
+It happens all the time, but they still get their assignments."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you know of any others in this class? Or the last
+class?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe not," Tiger said. "But if they were washing you
+out, why would the council be reviewing it? Somebody
+must be fighting for you."</p>
+
+<p>"But Black Doctor Tanner is on the council," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"He's not the only one on the council. It's going to work
+out. You'll see."</p>
+
+<p>"I hope so," Dal said without conviction. He started for
+the loading line, then turned. "But where are <i>you</i> going
+to be? What ship?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger hesitated. "Not assigned yet. I'm taking a leave.
+But you'll be hearing from me."</p>
+
+<p>The loading call blared from the loudspeaker. The tall
+Earthman seemed about to say something more, but Dal
+turned away and headed across toward the line for the
+shuttle plane. Ten minutes later, he was aloft as the tiny
+plane speared up through the black night sky and turned
+its needle nose toward the west.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>He tried to sleep, but couldn't. The shuttle trip from the
+Port of Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle was almost two<a name="page10" id="page10"></a>
+hours long because of passenger stops at Hospital Cleveland,
+Eisenhower City, New Chicago, and Hospital Billings. In
+spite of the help of the pneumatic seats and a sleep-cap, Dal
+could not even doze. It was one of the perfect clear nights
+that often occurred in midsummer now that weather control
+could modify Earth's air currents so well; the stars
+glittered against the black velvet backdrop above, and the
+North American continent was free of clouds. Dal stared
+down at the patchwork of lights that flickered up at him
+from the ground below.</p>
+
+<p>Passing below him were some of the great cities, the
+hospitals, the research and training centers, the residential
+zones and supply centers of Hospital Earth, medical center
+to the powerful Galactic Confederation, physician in charge
+of the health of a thousand intelligent races on a thousand
+planets of a thousand distant star systems. Here, he knew,
+was the ivory tower of galactic medicine, the hub from
+which the medical care of the confederation arose. From
+the huge hospitals, research centers, and medical schools
+here, the physicians of Hospital Earth went out to all
+corners of the galaxy. In the permanent outpost clinics, in
+the gigantic hospital ships that served great sectors of the
+galaxy, and in the General Practice Patrol ships that roved
+from star system to star system, they answered the calls for
+medical assistance from a multitude of planets and races,
+wherever and whenever they were needed.</p>
+
+<p>Dal Timgar had been on Hospital Earth for eight years,
+and still he was a stranger here. To him this was an alien
+planet, different in a thousand ways from the world where
+he was born and grew to manhood. For a moment now
+he thought of his native home, the second planet of a hot
+yellow star which Earthmen called "Garv" because they
+couldn't pronounce its full name in the Garvian tongue.<a name="page11" id="page11"></a>
+Unthinkably distant, yet only days away with the power
+of the star-drive motors that its people had developed thousands
+of years before, Garv II was a warm planet, teeming
+with activity, the trading center of the galaxy and the
+governmental headquarters of the powerful Galactic Confederation
+of Worlds. Dal could remember the days before
+he had come to Hospital Earth, and the many times he had
+longed desperately to be home again.</p>
+
+<p>He drew his fuzzy pink friend out of his pocket and
+rested him on his shoulder, felt the tiny silent creature rub
+happily against his neck. It had been his own decision to
+come here, Dal knew; there was no one else to blame. His
+people were not physicians. Their instincts and interests
+lay in trading and politics, not in the life sciences, and
+plague after plague had swept across his home planet in the
+centuries before Hospital Earth had been admitted as a
+probationary member of the Galactic Confederation.</p>
+
+<p>But as long as Dal could remember, he had wanted to
+be a doctor. From the first time he had seen a General
+Practice Patrol ship landing in his home city to fight the
+plague that was killing his people by the thousands, he had
+known that this was what he wanted more than anything
+else: to be a physician of Hospital Earth, to join the ranks
+of the doctors who were serving the galaxy.</p>
+
+<p>Many on Earth had tried to stop him from the first. He
+was a Garvian, alien to Earth's climate and Earth's people.
+The physical differences between Earthmen and Garvians
+were small, but just enough to set him apart and make him
+easily identifiable as an alien. He had one too few digits on
+his hands; his body was small and spindly, weighing a bare
+ninety pounds, and the coating of fine gray fur that covered
+all but his face and palms annoyingly grew longer and
+thicker as soon as he came to the comparatively cold climate<a name="page12" id="page12"></a>
+of Hospital Earth to live. The bone structure of his face
+gave his cheeks and nose a flattened appearance, and his pale
+gray eyes seemed abnormally large and wistful. And even
+though it had long been known that Earthmen and Garvians
+were equal in range of intelligence, his classmates still
+assumed just from his appearance that he was either unusually
+clever or unusually stupid.</p>
+
+<p>The gulf that lay between him and the men of Earth
+went beyond mere physical differences, however. Earthmen
+had differences of skin color, facial contour and physical
+size among them, yet made no sign of distinction. Dal's
+alienness went deeper. His classmates had been civil enough,
+yet with one or two exceptions, they had avoided him carefully.
+Clearly they resented his presence in their lecture
+rooms and laboratories. Clearly they felt that he did not
+belong there, studying medicine.</p>
+
+<p>From the first they had let him know unmistakably that
+he was unwelcome, an intruder in their midst, the first
+member of an alien race ever to try to earn the insignia of
+a physician of Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>And now, Dal knew he had failed after all. He had been
+allowed to try only because a powerful physician in the
+Black Service of Pathology had befriended him. If it had
+not been for the friendship and support of another Earthman
+in the class, Tiger Martin, the eight years of study
+would have been unbearably lonely.</p>
+
+<p>But now, he thought, it would have been far easier never
+to have started than to have his goal snatched away at the
+last minute. The notice of the council meeting left no doubt
+in his mind. He had failed. There would be lots of talk,
+some perfunctory debate for the sake of the record, and
+the medical council would wash their hands of him once<a name="page13" id="page13"></a>
+and for all. The decision, he was certain, was already
+made. It was just a matter of going through the formal
+motions.</p>
+
+<p>Dal felt the motors change in pitch, and the needle-nosed
+shuttle plane began to dip once more toward the horizon.
+Ahead he could see the sprawling lights of Hospital Seattle,
+stretching from the Cascade Mountains to the sea and beyond,
+north to Alaska and south toward the great California
+metropolitan centers. Somewhere down there was a
+council room where a dozen of the most powerful physicians
+on Hospital Earth, now sleeping soundly, would be
+meeting tomorrow for a trial that was already over, to pass
+a judgment that was already decided.</p>
+
+<p>He slipped Fuzzy back into his pocket, shouldered his
+pack, and waited for the ship to come down for its landing.
+It would be nice, he thought wryly, if his reservations for
+sleeping quarters in the students' barracks might at least be
+honored, but now he wasn't even sure of that.</p>
+
+<p>In the port of Seattle he went through the customary
+baggage check. He saw the clerk frown at his ill-fitting
+clothes and not-quite-human face, and then read his passage
+permit carefully before brushing him on through. Then he
+joined the crowd of travelers heading for the city subways.
+He didn't hear the loudspeaker blaring until the announcer
+had stumbled over his name half a dozen times.</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Doctor Dal Timgar, please report to the information
+booth.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>He hurried back to central information. "You were
+paging me. What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Telephone message, sir," the announcer said, his voice
+surprisingly respectful. "A top priority call. Just a minute."</p>
+
+<p>Moments later he had handed Dal the yellow telephone<a name="page14" id="page14"></a>
+message sheet, and Dal was studying the words with a
+puzzled frown:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>CALL AT MY QUARTERS ON ARRIVAL REGARDLESS
+OF HOUR STOP URGENT THAT I SEE YOU STOP
+REPEAT URGENT</p></div>
+
+<p>The message was signed <span class="smcap">Thorvold Arnquist, Black
+Service</span> and carried the priority seal of the Four-star Pathologist.
+Dal read it again, shifted his pack, and started once
+more for the subway ramp. He thrust the message into his
+pocket, and his step quickened as he heard the whistle of
+the pressure-tube trains up ahead.</p>
+
+<p>Black Doctor Arnquist, the man who had first defended
+his right to study medicine on Hospital Earth, now wanted
+to see him before the council meeting took place.</p>
+
+<p>For the first time in days, Dal Timgar felt a new flicker
+of hope.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page15" id="page15"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter2" id="chapter2"></a>CHAPTER 2</h2>
+
+<h3>HOSPITAL SEATTLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was a long way from the students' barracks to the
+pathology sector where Black Doctor Arnquist lived.
+Dal Timgar decided not to try to go to the barracks first.
+It was after midnight, and even though the message had
+said "regardless of hour," Dal shrank from the thought of
+awakening a physician of the Black Service at two o'clock
+in the morning. He was already later arriving at Hospital
+Seattle than he had expected to be, and quite possibly Black
+Doctor Arnquist would be retiring. It seemed better to go
+there without delay.</p>
+
+<p>But one thing took priority. He found a quiet spot in the
+waiting room near the subway entrance and dug into his
+day pack for the pressed biscuit and the canister of water
+he had there. He broke off a piece of the biscuit and held
+it up for Fuzzy to see.</p>
+
+<p>Fuzzy wriggled down onto his hand, and a tiny mouth
+appeared just below the shoe-button eyes. Bit by bit Dal
+fed his friend the biscuit, with squirts of water in between<a name="page16" id="page16"></a>
+bites. Finally, when the biscuit was gone, Dal squirted the
+rest of the water into Fuzzy's mouth and rubbed him between
+the eyes. "Feel better now?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>The creature seemed to understand; he wriggled in Dal's
+hand and blinked his eyes sleepily. "All right, then," Dal
+said. "Off to sleep."</p>
+
+<p>Dal started to tuck him back into his jacket pocket, but
+Fuzzy abruptly sprouted a pair of forelegs and began
+struggling fiercely to get out again. Dal grinned and replaced
+the little creature in the crook of his arm. "Don't like that
+idea so well, eh? Okay, friend. If you want to watch, that
+suits me."</p>
+
+<p>He found a map of the city at the subway entrance, and
+studied it carefully. Like other hospital cities on Earth,
+Seattle was primarily a center for patient care and treatment
+rather than a supply or administrative center. Here in Seattle
+special facilities existed for the care of the intelligent marine
+races that required specialized hospital care. The depths of
+Puget Sound served as a vast aquatic ward system where
+creatures which normally lived in salt-water oceans on their
+native planets could be cared for, and the specialty physicians
+who worked with marine races had facilities here
+for research and teaching in their specialty. The dry-land
+sectors of the hospital were organized to support the aquatic
+wards; the surgeries, the laboratories, the pharmacies and
+living quarters all were arranged on the periphery of the
+salt-water basin, and rapid-transit tubes carried medical
+workers, orderlies, nurses and physicians to the widespread
+areas of the hospital city.</p>
+
+<p>The pathology sector lay to the north of the city, and
+Black Doctor Arnquist was the chief pathologist of Hospital
+Seattle. Dal found a northbound express tube, climbed
+into an empty capsule, and pressed the buttons for the<a name="page17" id="page17"></a>
+pathology sector. Presently the capsule was shifted automatically
+into the pressure tube that would carry him thirty
+miles north to his destination.</p>
+
+<p>It was the first time Dal had ever visited a Black Doctor
+in his quarters, and the idea made him a little nervous. Of
+all the medical services on Hospital Earth, none had the
+power of the Black Service of Pathology. Traditionally in
+Earth medicine, the pathologists had always occupied a position
+of power and discipline. The autopsy rooms had always
+been the "Temples of Truth" where the final, inarguable
+answers in medicine were ultimately found, and for centuries
+pathologists had been the judges and inspectors of
+the profession of medicine.</p>
+
+<p>And when Earth had become Hospital Earth, with status
+as a probationary member of the Galactic Confederation of
+Worlds, it was natural that the Black Service of Pathology
+had become the governors and policy-makers, regimenting
+every aspect of the medical services provided by Earth
+physicians.</p>
+
+<p>Dal knew that the medical training council, which would
+be reviewing his application in just a few hours, was made
+up of physicians from all the services&mdash;the Green Service of
+Medicine, the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the Red Service of
+Surgery, as well as the Auxiliary Services&mdash;but the Black
+Doctors who sat on the council would have the final say,
+the final veto power.</p>
+
+<p>He wondered now why Black Doctor Arnquist wanted
+to see him. At first he had thought there might be special
+news for him, word perhaps that his assignment had come
+through after all, that the interview tomorrow would not be
+held. But on reflection, he realized that didn't make sense.
+If that were the case, Doctor Arnquist would have said so,
+and directed him to report to a ship. More likely, he thought,<a name="page18" id="page18"></a>
+the Black Doctor wanted to see him only to soften the blow,
+to help him face the decision that seemed inevitable.</p>
+
+<p>He left the pneumatic tube and climbed on the jitney
+that wound its way through the corridors of the pathology
+sector and into the quiet, austere quarters of the resident
+pathologists. He found the proper concourse, and moments
+later he was pressing his thumb against the identification
+plate outside the Black Doctor's personal quarters.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist looked older now than
+when Dal had last seen him. His silvery gray hair was
+thinning, and there were tired lines around his eyes and
+mouth that Dal did not remember from before. The old
+man's body seemed more wispy and frail than ever, and
+the black cloak across his shoulders rustled as he led Dal
+back into a book-lined study.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor had not yet gone to bed. On a desk in
+the corner of the study several books lay open, and a roll
+of paper was inserted in the dicto-typer. "I knew you would
+get the message when you arrived," he said as he took Dal's
+pack, "and I thought you might be later than you planned.
+A good trip, I trust. And your friend here? He enjoys
+shuttle travel?" He smiled and stroked Fuzzy with a gnarled
+finger. "I suppose you wonder why I wanted to see you."</p>
+
+<p>Dal Timgar nodded slowly. "About the interview tomorrow?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, yes. The interview." The Black Doctor made a sour
+face and shook his head. "A bad business for you, that interview.
+How do you feel about it?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal spread his hands helplessly. As always, the Black
+Doctor's questions cut through the trimming to the heart
+of things. They were always difficult questions to answer.<a name="page19" id="page19"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I ... I suppose it's something that's necessary," he said
+finally.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh?" the Black Doctor frowned. "But why necessary
+for you if not for the others? How many were there in
+your class, including all the services? Three hundred? And
+out of the three hundred only one was refused assignment."
+He looked up sharply at Dal, his pale blue eyes very alert
+in his aged face. "Right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And you really feel it's just normal procedure that your
+application is being challenged?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"How <i>do</i> you feel about it, Dal? Angry, maybe?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal squirmed. "Yes, sir. You might say that."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps even bitter," the Black Doctor said.</p>
+
+<p>"I did as good work as anyone else in my class," Dal said
+hotly. "I did my part as well as anyone could, I didn't let
+up once all the way through. Bitter! Wouldn't you feel
+bitter?"</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor nodded slowly. "Yes, I imagine I
+would," he said, sinking down into the chair behind the
+desk with a sigh. "As a matter of fact, I do feel a little bitter
+about it, even though I was afraid that it might come to this
+in the end. I can't blame you for your feelings." He took a
+deep breath. "I wish I could promise you that everything
+would be all right tomorrow, but I'm afraid I can't. The
+council has a right to review your qualifications, and it holds
+the power to assign you to a patrol ship on the spot, if it
+sees fit. Conceivably, a Black Doctor might force the
+council's approval, if he were the only representative of the
+Black service there. But I will not be the only Black Doctor
+sitting on the council tomorrow."<a name="page20" id="page20"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I know that," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Arnquist looked up at Dal for a long moment.
+"Why do you want to be a doctor in the first place, Dal?
+This isn't the calling of your people. You must be the one
+Garvian out of millions with the patience and peculiar
+mental make-up to permit you to master the scientific disciplines
+involved in studying medicine. Either you are
+different from the rest of your people&mdash;which I doubt&mdash;or
+else you are driven to force yourself into a pattern foreign
+to your nature for very compelling reasons. What are they?
+Why do you want medicine?"</p>
+
+<p>It was the hardest question of all, the question Dal had
+dreaded. He knew the answer, just as he had known for
+most of his life that he wanted to be a doctor above all else.
+But he had never found a way to put the reasons into
+words. "I can't say," he said slowly. "I <i>know</i>, but I can't
+express it, and whenever I try, it just sounds silly."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe your reasons don't make reasonable sense," the
+old man said gently.</p>
+
+<p>"But they do! At least to me, they do," Dal said. "I've
+always wanted to be a doctor. There's nothing else I want
+to do. To work at home, among my people."</p>
+
+<p>"There was a plague on Garv II, wasn't there?" Doctor
+Arnquist said. "A cyclic thing that came back again and
+again. The cycle was broken just a few years ago, when the
+virus that caused it was finally isolated and destroyed."</p>
+
+<p>"By the physicians of Hospital Earth," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"It's happened again and again," the Black Doctor said.
+"We've seen the same pattern repeated a thousand times
+across the galaxy, and it has always puzzled us, just a little."
+He smiled. "You see, our knowledge and understanding of
+the life sciences here on Earth have always grown hand in<a name="page21" id="page21"></a>
+hand with the physical sciences. We had always assumed
+that the same thing would happen on <i>any</i> planet where a
+race has developed intelligence and scientific methods of
+study. We were wrong, of course, which is the reason for
+the existence of Hospital Earth and her physicians today,
+but it still amazes us that with all the technology and
+civilization in the galaxy, we Earthmen are the only people
+yet discovered who have developed a broad knowledge of
+the processes of life and illness and death."</p>
+
+<p>The old man looked up at his visitor, and Dal felt his
+pale blue eyes searching his face. "How badly do you want
+to be a doctor, Dal?"</p>
+
+<p>"More than anything else I know," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"Badly enough to do anything to achieve your goal?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal hesitated, and stroked Fuzzy's head gently. "Well ...
+almost anything."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor nodded. "And that, of course, is the
+reason I had to see you before this interview, my friend.
+I know you've played the game straight right from the beginning,
+up to this point. Now I beg of you not to do the
+thing that you are thinking of doing."</p>
+
+<p>For a moment Dal just stared at the little old man in
+black, and felt the fur on his arms and back rise up. A
+wave of panic flooded his mind. <i>He knows!</i> he thought
+frantically. <i>He must be able to read minds!</i> But he thrust
+the idea away. There was no way that the Black Doctor
+could know. No race of creatures in the galaxy had <i>that</i>
+power. And yet there was no doubt that Black Doctor
+Arnquist knew what Dal had been thinking, just as surely
+as if he had said it aloud.</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head helplessly. "I ... I don't know what
+you mean."<a name="page22" id="page22"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I think you do," Doctor Arnquist said. "Please, Dal.
+Trust me. This is not the time to lie. The thing that you
+were planning to do at the interview would be disastrous,
+even if it won you an assignment. It would be dishonest
+and unworthy."</p>
+
+<p><i>Then he does know!</i> Dal thought. <i>But how? I couldn't
+have told him, or given him any hint.</i> He felt Fuzzy give
+a frightened shiver on his arm, and then words were
+tumbling out of his mouth. "I don't know what you're
+talking about, there wasn't anything I was thinking of. I
+mean, what could I do? If the council wants to assign me
+to a ship, they will, and if they don't, they won't. I don't
+know what you're thinking of."</p>
+
+<p>"Please." Black Doctor Arnquist held up his hand.
+"Naturally you defend yourself," he said. "I can't blame you
+for that, and I suppose this is an unforgivable breach of
+diplomacy even to mention it to you, but I think it must
+be done. Remember that we have been studying and observing
+your people very carefully over the past two hundred
+years, Dal. It is no accident that you have such a warm
+attachment to your little pink friend here, and it is no accident
+that wherever a Garvian is found, his Fuzzy is with
+him, isn't that so? And it is no accident that your people
+are such excellent tradesmen, that you are so remarkably
+skillful in driving bargains favorable to yourselves ... that
+you are in fact the most powerful single race of creatures in
+the whole Galactic Confederation."</p>
+
+<p>The old man walked to the bookshelves behind him and
+brought down a thick, bound manuscript. He handed it
+across the desk as Dal watched him. "You may read this if
+you like, at your leisure. Don't worry, it's not for publication,
+just a private study which I have never mentioned<a name="page23" id="page23"></a>
+before to anyone, but the pattern is unmistakable. This
+peculiar talent of your people is difficult to describe: not
+really telepathy, but an ability to create the emotional responses
+in others that will be most favorable to you. Just
+what part your Fuzzies play in this ability of your people
+I am not sure, but I'm quite certain that without them you
+would not have it."</p>
+
+<p>He smiled at Dal's stricken face. "A forbidden topic,
+eh? And yet perfectly true. You know right now that if
+you wanted to you could virtually paralyze me with fright,
+render me helpless to do anything but stand here and shiver,
+couldn't you? Or if I were hostile to your wishes, you could
+suddenly force me to sympathize with you and like you
+enormously, until I was ready to agree to anything you
+wanted&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"No," Dal broke in. "Please, you don't understand! I've
+never done it, not once since I came to Hospital Earth."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that. I've been watching you."</p>
+
+<p>"And I wouldn't think of doing it."</p>
+
+<p>"Not even at the council interview?"</p>
+
+<p>"Never!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then let me have Fuzzy now. He is the key to this
+special talent of your people. Give him to me now, and go
+to the interview without him."</p>
+
+<p>Dal drew back, trembling, trying to fight down panic. He
+brought his hand around to the soft fur of the little pink
+fuzz-ball. "I ... can't do that," he said weakly.</p>
+
+<p>"Not even if it meant your assignment to a patrol ship?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal hesitated, then shook his head. "Not even then. But
+I won't do what you're saying, I promise you."</p>
+
+<p>For a long moment Black Doctor Arnquist stared at him.
+Then he smiled. "Will you give me your word?<a name="page24" id="page24"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I promise."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I wish you good luck. I will do what I can at the
+interview. But now there is a bed for you here. You will
+need sleep if you are to present your best appearance."</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page25" id="page25"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter3" id="chapter3"></a>CHAPTER 3</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INQUISITION</h3>
+
+
+<p>The interview was held in the main council chambers
+of Hospital Seattle, and Dal could feel the tension the
+moment he stepped into the room. He looked at the long
+semicircular table, and studied the impassive faces of the
+four-star Physicians across the table from him.</p>
+
+<p>Each of the major medical services was represented this
+morning. In the center, presiding over the council, was a
+physician of the White Service, a Four-star Radiologist
+whose insignia gleamed on his shoulders. There were two
+physicians each, representing the Red Service of Surgery,
+the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of Diagnosis,
+and finally, seated at either end of the table, the representatives
+of the Black Service of Pathology. Black Doctor
+Thorvold Arnquist sat to Dal's left; he smiled faintly as the
+young Garvian stepped forward, then busied himself among
+the papers on the desk before him. To Dal's right sat another
+Black Doctor who was not smiling.</p>
+
+<p>Dal had seen him before&mdash;the chief co-ordinator of medical<a name="page26" id="page26"></a>
+education on Hospital Earth, the "Black Plague" of the
+medical school jokes. Black Doctor Hugo Tanner was large
+and florid of face, blinking owlishly at Dal over his heavy
+horn-rimmed glasses. The glasses were purely decorative;
+with modern eye-cultures and transplant techniques, no
+Earthman had really needed glasses to correct his vision for
+the past two hundred years, but on Hugo Tanner's angry
+face they added a look of gravity and solemnity that the
+Black Doctor could not achieve without them. Still glaring
+at Dal, Doctor Tanner leaned over to speak to the Blue
+Doctor on his right, and they nodded and laughed unpleasantly
+at some private joke.</p>
+
+<p>There was no place for him to sit, so Dal stood before
+the table, as straight as his five-foot height would allow
+him. He had placed Fuzzy almost defiantly on his shoulder,
+and from time to time he could feel the little creature quiver
+and huddle against his neck as though to hide from sight
+under his collar.</p>
+
+<p>The White Doctor opened the proceedings, and at first
+the questions were entirely medical. "We are meeting to
+consider this student's application for assignment to a
+General Practice Patrol ship, as a probationary physician in
+the Red Service of Surgery. I believe you are all acquainted
+with his educational qualifications?"</p>
+
+<p>There was an impatient murmur around the table. The
+White Doctor looked up at Dal. "Your name, please?"</p>
+
+<p>"Dal Timgar, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Your <i>full</i> name," Black Doctor Tanner rumbled from
+the right-hand end of the table.</p>
+
+<p>Dal took a deep breath and began to give his full Garvian
+name. It was untranslatable and unpronounceable to Earthmen,
+who could not reproduce the sequence of pops and
+whistles that made up the Garvian tongue. The doctors<a name="page27" id="page27"></a>
+listened, blinking, as the complex family structure and
+ancestry which entered into every Garvian's full name continued
+to roll from Dal's lips. He was entering into the
+third generation removed of his father's lineage when
+Doctor Tanner held up his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, all right! We will accept the abbreviated name
+you have used on Hospital Earth. Let it be clear on the
+record that the applicant is a native of the second planet of
+the Garv system." The Black Doctor settled back in his
+chair and began whispering again to the Blue Doctor next
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>A Green Doctor cleared his throat. "Doctor Timgar,
+what do you consider to be the basic principle that underlies
+the work and services of physicians of Hospital Earth?"</p>
+
+<p>It was an old question, a favorite on freshman medical
+school examinations. "The principle that environments and
+life forms in the universe may be dissimilar, but that biochemical
+reactions are universal throughout creation," Dal
+said slowly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well memorized," Black Doctor Tanner said sourly.
+"What does it mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"It means that the principles of chemistry, physiology,
+pathology and the other life sciences, once understood, can
+be applied to any living creature in the universe, and will be
+found valid," Dal said. "As different as the various life
+forms may be, the basic life processes in one life form are
+the same, under different conditions, as the life processes in
+any other life form, just as hydrogen and oxygen will combine
+to form water anywhere in the universe where the
+proper physical conditions prevail."</p>
+
+<p>"Very good, very good," the Green Doctor said. "But
+tell me this: what in your opinion is the place of surgery in
+a Galactic practice of medicine?"<a name="page28" id="page28"></a></p>
+
+<p>A more difficult question, but one that Dal's training
+had prepared him well to answer. He answered it, and faced
+another question, and another. One by one, the doctors
+interrogated him, Black Doctor Arnquist among them. The
+questions came faster and faster; some were exceedingly
+difficult. Once or twice Dal was stopped cold, and forced
+to admit that he did not know the answer. Other questions
+which he knew would stop other students happened to
+fall in fields he understood better than most, and his answers
+were full and succinct.</p>
+
+<p>But finally the questioning tapered off, and the White
+Doctor shuffled his papers impatiently. "If there are no
+further medical questions, we can move on to another
+aspect of this student's application. Certain questions of
+policy have been raised. Black Doctor Tanner had some
+things to say, I believe, as co-ordinator of medical education."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor rose ponderously to his feet. "I have
+some things to say, you can be sure of that," he said, "but
+they have nothing to do with this Dal Timgar's educational
+qualifications for assignment to a General Practice Patrol
+ship." Black Doctor Tanner paused to glare in Dal's direction.
+"He has been trained in a medical school on Hospital
+Earth, and apparently has passed his final qualifying examinations
+for the Red Service of Surgery. I can't argue about
+that."</p>
+
+<p>Black Doctor Arnquist's voice came across the room.
+"Then why are we having his review, Hugo? Dal Timgar's
+classmates all received their assignments automatically."</p>
+
+<p>"Because there are other things to consider here than
+educational qualifications," Hugo Tanner said. "Gentlemen,
+consider our position for a moment. We have thousands of
+probationary physicians abroad in the galaxy at the present<a name="page29" id="page29"></a>
+time, fine young men and women who have been trained in
+medical schools on Hospital Earth, and now are gaining
+experience and judgment while fulfilling our medical service
+contracts in every part of the confederation. They are probationers,
+but we must not forget that we physicians of
+Hospital Earth are also probationers. We are seeking a
+permanent place in this great Galactic Confederation, which
+was in existence many thousands of years before we even
+knew of its existence. It was not until our own scientists
+discovered the Koenig star-drive, enabling us to break
+free of our own solar system, that we were met face to face
+with a confederation of intelligent races inhabiting the
+galaxy&mdash;among others, the people from whom this same
+Dal Timgar has come."</p>
+
+<p>"The history is interesting," Black Doctor Arnquist broke
+in, "but really, Hugo, I think most of us know it already."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe we do," Doctor Tanner said, flushing a little.
+"But the history is significant. Permanent membership in
+the confederation is contingent on two qualifications. First,
+we must have developed a star-drive of our own, a qualification
+of intelligence, if you will. The confederation has ruled
+that only races having a certain level of intelligence can
+become members. A star-drive could only be developed with
+a far-reaching understanding of the physical sciences, so
+this is a valid criterion of intelligence. But the second qualification
+for confederation membership is nothing more nor
+less than a question of usefulness."</p>
+
+<p>The presiding White Doctor looked up, frowning. "Usefulness?"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly. The Galactic Confederation, with its exchange
+of ideas and talents, and all the wealth of civilization it has
+to offer, is based on a division of labor. Every member must
+have something to contribute, some special talent. For<a name="page30" id="page30"></a>
+Earthmen, the talent was obvious very early. Our technology
+was primitive, our manufacturing skills mediocre,
+our transport and communications systems impossible. But
+in our understanding of the life sciences, we have far outstripped
+any other race in the galaxy. We had already solved
+the major problems of disease and longevity among our
+own people, while some of the most advanced races in the
+confederation were being reduced to helplessness by cyclic
+plagues which slaughtered their populations, and were
+caused by nothing more complex than a simple parasitic
+virus. Garv II is an excellent example."</p>
+
+<p>One of the Red Doctors cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I
+don't quite see the connection. Nobody is arguing about
+our skill as doctors."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course not," Black Doctor Tanner said. "The point
+is that in all the galaxy, Earthmen are by their very nature
+the <i>best</i> doctors, outstripping the most advanced physicians
+on any other planet. And this, gentlemen, is our bargaining
+point. We are useful to the Galactic Confederation only as
+physicians. The confederation needed us badly enough to
+admit us to probational membership, but if we ever hope to
+become full members of the confederation, we must demonstrate
+our usefulness, our unique skill, as physicians. We
+have worked hard to prove ourselves. We have made Hospital
+Earth the galactic center of study and treatment of
+diseases of many races. Earthmen on the General Practice
+Patrol ships visit planets in the remotest sections, and their
+reputation as physicians has grown. Every year new planets
+are writing full medical service contracts with us ... as
+Earthmen serving the galaxy&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"As <i>physicians</i> serving the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist's
+voice shot across the room.</p>
+
+<p>"As far as the confederation has been concerned, the two<a name="page31" id="page31"></a>
+have been synonymous," Hugo Tanner roared. "<i>Until now.</i>
+But now we have an alien among us. We have allowed a
+non-Earthman to train in our medical schools. He has completed
+the required work, his qualifications are acceptable,
+and now he proposes to go out on a patrol ship as a physician
+of the Red Service of Surgery. But think of what you are
+doing if you permit him to go! You will be proving to
+every planet in the confederation that they don't really need
+Earthmen after all, that any race from any planet might
+produce physicians just as capable as Earthmen."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor turned slowly to face Dal, his mouth
+set in a grim line. As he talked, his face had grown dark with
+anger. "Understand that I have nothing against this creature
+as an individual. Perhaps he would prove to be a competent
+physician, although I cannot believe it. Perhaps he would
+carry on the traditions of medical service we have worked
+so long to establish, although I doubt it. But I do know that
+if we permit him to become a qualified physician, it will be
+the beginning of the end for Hospital Earth. We will be
+selling out our sole bargaining position. We can forget our
+hopes for membership in the confederation, because one
+like him this year will mean two next year, and ten the next,
+and there will be no end to it. We should have stopped it
+eight years ago, but certain ones prevailed to admit Dal
+Timgar to training. If we do not stop it now, for all time,
+we will never be able to stop it."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the Black Doctor sat down, motioning to an
+orderly at the rear of the room. The orderly brought a
+glass of water and a small capsule which Black Doctor
+Tanner gulped down. The other doctors were talking heatedly
+among themselves as Black Doctor Arnquist rose to
+his feet. "Then you are claiming that our highest calling is<a name="page32" id="page32"></a>
+to keep medicine in the hands of Earthmen alone?" he
+asked softly.</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Tanner flushed. "Our highest calling is to provide
+good medical care for our patients," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"The best possible medical care?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never said otherwise."</p>
+
+<p>"And yet you deny the ancient tradition that a physician's
+duty is to help his patients help themselves," Black
+Doctor Arnquist said.</p>
+
+<p>"I said no such thing!" Hugo Tanner cried, jumping to
+his feet. "But we must protect ourselves. We have no other
+power, nothing else to sell."</p>
+
+<p>"And I say that if we must sell our medical skill for our
+own benefit first, then we are not worthy to be physicians
+to anyone," Doctor Arnquist snapped. "You make a very
+convincing case, but if we examine it closely, we see that
+it amounts to nothing but fear and selfishness."</p>
+
+<p>"Fear?" Doctor Tanner cried. "What do we have to
+fear if we can maintain our position? But if we must yield
+to a Garvian who has no business in medicine in the first
+place, what can we have left but fear?"</p>
+
+<p>"If I were really convinced that Earthmen were the best
+physicians in the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist replied,
+"I don't think I'd have to be afraid."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor at the end of the table stood up,
+shaking with rage. "Listen to him!" he cried to the others.
+"Once again he is defending this creature and turning his
+back on common sense. All I ask is that we keep our skills
+among our own people and avoid the contamination that
+will surely result&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Doctor Tanner broke off, his face suddenly white. He
+coughed, clutching at his chest, and sank down groping for
+his medicine box and the water glass. After a moment he<a name="page33" id="page33"></a>
+caught his breath and shook his head. "There's nothing
+more I can say," he said weakly. "I have done what I
+could, and the decision is up to the rest of you." He
+coughed again, and slowly the color came back into his
+face. The Blue Doctor had risen to help him, but Tanner
+waved him aside. "No, no, it's nothing. I allowed myself
+to become angry."</p>
+
+<p>Black Doctor Arnquist spread his hands. "Under the circumstances,
+I won't belabor the point," he said, "although
+I think it would be good if Doctor Tanner would pause in
+his activities long enough for the surgery that would make
+his anger less dangerous to his own life. But he represents
+a view, and his right to state it is beyond reproach." Doctor
+Arnquist looked from face to face along the council table.
+"The decision is yours, gentlemen, I would ask only that
+you consider what our highest calling as physicians really is&mdash;a
+duty that overrides fear and selfishness. I believe Dal
+Timgar would be a good physician, and that this is more
+important than the planet of his origin. I think he would
+uphold the honor of Hospital Earth wherever he went, and
+give us his loyalty as well as his service. I will vote to accept
+his application, and thus cancel out my colleague's negative
+vote. The deciding votes will be cast by the rest of you."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down, and the White Doctor looked at Dal
+Timgar. "It would be good if you would wait outside," he
+said. "We will call you as soon as a decision is reached."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>Dal waited in an anteroom, feeding Fuzzy and trying to
+put out of his mind for a moment the heated argument still
+raging in the council chamber. Fuzzy was quivering with
+fright; unable to speak, the tiny creature nevertheless clearly
+experienced emotions, even though Dal himself did not
+know how he received impressions, nor why.<a name="page34" id="page34"></a></p>
+
+<p>But Dal knew that there was a connection between the
+tiny pink creature's emotions and the peculiar talent that
+Black Doctor Arnquist had spoken of the night before. It
+was not a telepathic power that Dal and his people possessed.
+Just <i>what</i> it was, was difficult to define, yet Dal knew that
+every Garvian depended upon it to some extent in dealing
+with people around him. He knew that when Fuzzy was
+sitting on his arm he could sense the emotions of those
+around him&mdash;the anger, the fear, the happiness, the suspicion&mdash;and
+he knew that under certain circumstances, in a
+way he did not clearly understand, he could wilfully change
+the feelings of others toward himself. Not a great deal,
+perhaps, nor in any specific way, but just enough to make
+them look upon him and his wishes more favorably than
+they otherwise might.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout his years on Hospital Earth he had vigilantly
+avoided using this strange talent. Already he was different
+enough from Earthmen in appearance, in ways of thinking,
+in likes and dislikes. But these differences were not advantages,
+and he had realized that if his classmates had ever
+dreamed of the advantage that he had, minor as it was, his
+hopes of becoming a physician would have been destroyed
+completely.</p>
+
+<p>And in the council room he had kept his word to Doctor
+Arnquist. He had felt Fuzzy quivering on his shoulder; he
+had sensed the bitter anger in Black Doctor Tanner's mind,
+and the temptation deliberately to mellow that anger had
+been almost overwhelming, but he had turned it aside. He
+had answered questions that were asked him, and listened
+to the debate with a growing sense of hopelessness.</p>
+
+<p>And now the chance was gone. The decision was being
+made.</p>
+
+<p>He paced the floor, trying to remember the expressions<a name="page35" id="page35"></a>
+of the other doctors, trying to remember what had been
+said, how many had seemed friendly and how many hostile,
+but he knew that only intensified the torture. There was
+nothing he could do now but wait.</p>
+
+<p>At last the door opened, and an orderly nodded to him.
+Dal felt his legs tremble as he walked into the room and
+faced the semi-circle of doctors. He tried to read the answer
+on their faces, but even Black Doctor Arnquist sat impassively,
+doodling on the pad before him, refusing to
+meet Dal's eyes.</p>
+
+<p>The White Doctor took up a sheet of paper. "We have
+considered your application, and have reached a decision.
+You will be happy to know that your application for assignment
+has been tentatively accepted."</p>
+
+<p>Dal heard the words, and it seemed as though the room
+were spinning around him. He wanted to shout for joy and
+throw his arms around Black Doctor Arnquist, but he
+stood perfectly still, and suddenly he noticed that Fuzzy was
+very quiet on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>"You will understand that this acceptance is not irrevocable,"
+the White Doctor went on. "We are not willing to
+guarantee your ultimate acceptance as a fully qualified Star
+Surgeon at this point. You will be allowed to wear a collar
+and cuff, uniform and insignia of a probationary physician,
+in the Red Service, and will be assigned aboard the General
+Practice Patrol ship <i>Lancet</i>, leaving from Hospital Seattle
+next Tuesday. If you prove your ability in that post, your
+performance will once again be reviewed by this board,
+but you alone will determine our decision then. Your final
+acceptance as a Star Surgeon will depend entirely upon
+your conduct as a member of the patrol ship's crew." He
+smiled at Dal, and set the paper down. "The council wishes
+you well. Do you have any questions?"<a name="page36" id="page36"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Just one," Dal managed to say. "Who will my crewmates
+be?"</p>
+
+<p>"As is customary, a probationer from the Green Service
+of Medicine and one from the Blue Service of Diagnosis.
+Both have been specially selected by this council. Your
+Blue Doctor will be Jack Alvarez, who has shown great
+promise in his training in diagnostic medicine."</p>
+
+<p>"And the Green Doctor?"</p>
+
+<p>"A young man named Frank Martin," the White Doctor
+said. "Known to his friends, I believe, as 'Tiger.'"</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page37" id="page37"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter4" id="chapter4"></a>CHAPTER 4</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GALACTIC PILL PEDDLERS</h3>
+
+
+<p>The ship stood tall and straight on her launching pad,
+with the afternoon sunlight glinting on her hull. Half
+a dozen crews of check-out men were swarming about her,
+inspecting her engine and fuel supplies, riding up the gantry
+crane to her entrance lock, and guiding the great cargo nets
+from the loading crane into her afterhold. High up on her
+hull Dal Timgar could see a golden caduceus emblazoned,
+the symbol of the General Practice Patrol, and beneath it
+the ship's official name:</p>
+
+<div class="centre">
+GPPS 238<br />
+<i>LANCET</i>
+</div>
+
+<p>Dal shifted his day pack down from his shoulders, ridiculously
+pleased with the gleaming scarlet braid on the collar
+and cuff of his uniform, and lifted Fuzzy up on his shoulder
+to see. It seemed to Dal that everyone he had passed in the
+terminal had been looking at the colorful insignia; it was all<a name="page38" id="page38"></a>
+he could do to keep from holding his arm up and waving it
+like a banner.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll get used to it," Tiger Martin chuckled as they
+waited for the jitney to take them across to the launching
+pad. "At first you think everybody is impressed by the
+colors, until you see some guy go past with the braid all
+faded and frazzled at the edges, and then you realize that
+you're just the latest greenhorn in a squad of two hundred
+thousand men."</p>
+
+<p>"It's still good to be wearing it," Dal said. "I couldn't
+really believe it until Black Doctor Arnquist turned the
+collar and cuff over to me." He looked suspiciously at Tiger.
+"You must have known a lot more about that interview
+than you let on. Or, was it just coincidence that we were
+assigned together?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not coincidence, exactly." Tiger grinned. "I didn't
+know what was going to happen. I'd requested assignment
+with you on my application, and then when yours was held
+up, Doctor Arnquist asked me if I'd be willing to wait for
+assignment until the interview was over. So I said okay. He
+seemed to think you had a pretty good chance."</p>
+
+<p>"I'd never have made it without his backing," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, anyway, he figured that if you <i>were</i> assigned, it
+would be a good idea to have a friend on the patrol ship
+team."</p>
+
+<p>"I won't argue about <i>that</i>," Dal said. "But who is the
+Blue Service man?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger's face darkened. "I don't know much about him,"
+he said. "He trained in California, and I met him just once,
+at a diagnosis and therapy conference. He's supposed to be
+plenty smart, according to the grapevine. I guess he'd have
+to be, to pass Diagnostic Service finals." Tiger chuckled.<a name="page39" id="page39"></a>
+"Any dope can make it in the Medical or Surgical Services,
+but diagnosis is something else again."</p>
+
+<p>"Will he be in command?"</p>
+
+<p>"On the <i>Lancet</i>? Why should he? We'll share command,
+just like any patrol ship crew. If we run into problems we
+can't agree on, we holler for help. But if he acts like most
+of the Blue Doctors I know, he'll <i>think</i> he's in command."</p>
+
+<p>A jitney stopped for them, and then zoomed out across
+the field toward the ship. The gantry platform was just
+clanging to the ground, unloading three technicians and a
+Four-bar Electronics Engineer. Tiger and Dal rode the
+platform up again and moments later stepped through the
+entrance lock of the ship that would be their home base
+for months and perhaps years.</p>
+
+<p>They found the bunk room to the rear of the control and
+lab sections. A duffel bag was already lodged on one of the
+bunks; one of the foot lockers was already occupied, and
+a small but expensive camera and a huge pair of field glasses
+were hanging from one of the wall brackets.</p>
+
+<p>"Looks like our man has already arrived," Tiger said,
+tossing down his own duffel bag and looking around the
+cramped quarters. "Not exactly a luxury suite, I'd say.
+Wonder where he is?"</p>
+
+<p>"Let's look up forward," Dal said. "We've plenty to do
+before we take off. Maybe he's just getting an early start."</p>
+
+<p>They explored the ship, working their way up the central
+corridor past the communications and computer rooms and
+the laboratory into the main control and observation room.
+Here they found a thin, dark-haired young man in a bright
+blue collar and cuff, sitting engrossed with a tape-reader.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment they thought he hadn't heard them. Then,
+as though reluctant to tear himself away, the Blue Doctor<a name="page40" id="page40"></a>
+sighed, snapped off the reader, and turned on the swivel
+stool.</p>
+
+<p>"So!" he said. "I was beginning to wonder if you were
+ever going to get here."</p>
+
+<p>"We ran into some delays," Tiger said. He grinned and
+held out his hand. "Jack Alvarez? Tiger Martin. We met
+each other at that conference in Chicago last year."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I remember," the Blue Doctor said. "You found
+some holes in a paper I gave. Matter of fact, I've plugged
+them up very nicely since then. You'd have trouble finding
+fault with the work now." Jack Alvarez turned his eyes to
+Dal. "And I suppose this is the Garvian I've been hearing
+about, complete with his little pink stooge."</p>
+
+<p>The moment they had walked in the door, Dal had felt
+Fuzzy crouch down tight against his shoulder. Now a wave
+of hostility struck his mind like a shower of ice water. He
+had never seen this thin, dark-haired youth before, or even
+heard of him, but he recognized this sharp impression of
+hatred and anger unmistakably. He had felt it a thousand
+times among his medical school classmates during the past
+eight years, and just hours before he had felt it in the
+council room when Black Doctor Tanner had turned on
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"It's really a lucky break that we have Dal for a Red
+Doctor," Tiger said. "We almost didn't get him."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I heard all about how lucky we are," Jack Alvarez
+said sourly. He looked Dal over from the gray fur on the
+top of his head to the spindly legs in the ill-fitting trousers.
+Then the Blue Doctor shrugged in disgust and turned
+back to the tape-reader. "A Garvian and his Fuzzy!" he
+muttered. "Let's hope one or the other knows something
+about surgery."</p>
+
+<p>"I think we'll do all right," Dal said slowly.<a name="page41" id="page41"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I think you'd better," Jack Alvarez replied.</p>
+
+<p>Dal and Tiger looked at each other, and Tiger shrugged.
+"It's all right," he said. "We know our jobs, and we'll
+manage."</p>
+
+<p>Dal nodded, and started back for the bunk room. No
+doubt, he thought, they would manage.</p>
+
+<p>But if he had thought before that the assignment on the
+<i>Lancet</i> was going to be easy, he knew now that he was
+wrong.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger Martin may have been Doctor Arnquist's selection
+as a crewmate for him, but there was no question in his
+mind that the Blue Doctor on the <i>Lancet</i>'s crew was Black
+Doctor Hugo Tanner's choice.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>The first meeting with Jack Alvarez hardly seemed
+promising to either Dal or Tiger, but if there was trouble
+coming, it was postponed for the moment by common
+consent. In the few days before blast-off there was no time
+for conflict, or even for much talk. Each of the three crewmen
+had two full weeks of work to accomplish in two
+days; each knew his job and buried himself in it with a will.</p>
+
+<p>The ship's medical and surgical supplies had to be inventoried,
+and missing or required supplies ordered up.
+New supplies coming in had to be checked, tested, and
+stored in the ship's limited hold space. It was like preparing
+for an extended pack trip into wilderness country; once
+the <i>Lancet</i> left its home base on Hospital Earth it was a
+world to itself, equipped to support its physician-crew and
+provide the necessary equipment and data they would need
+to deal with the problems they would face. Like all patrol
+ships, the <i>Lancet</i> was equipped with automatic launching,
+navigation and drive mechanisms; no crew other than the<a name="page42" id="page42"></a>
+three doctors was required, and in the event of mechanical
+failures, maintenance ships were on continual call.</p>
+
+<p>The ship was responsible for patrolling an enormous area,
+including hundreds of stars and their planetary systems&mdash;yet
+its territory was only a tiny segment of the galaxy.
+Landings were to be made at various specified planets maintaining
+permanent clinic outposts of Hospital Earth; certain
+staple supplies were carried for each of these check points.
+Aside from these lonely clinic contacts, the nearest port of
+call for the <i>Lancet</i> was one of the hospital ships that continuously
+worked slow orbits through the star systems of
+the confederation.</p>
+
+<p>But a hospital ship, with its staff of Two-star and Three-star
+Physicians, was not to be called except in cases of
+extreme need. The probationers on the patrol ships were
+expected to be self-sufficient. Their job was to handle
+diagnosis and care of all but the most difficult problems that
+arose in their travels. They were the first to answer the
+medical calls from any planet with a medical service contract
+with Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>It was an enormous responsibility for doctors-in-training
+to assume, but over the years it had proven the best way to
+train and weed out new doctors for the greater responsibilities
+of hospital ship and Hospital Earth assignments.
+There was no set period of duty on the patrol ships; how
+long a young doctor remained in the General Practice Patrol
+depended to a large extent upon how well he handled the
+problems and responsibilities that faced him; and since
+the first years of Hospital Earth, the fledgling doctors in
+the General Practice Patrol&mdash;the self-styled "Galactic Pill
+Peddlers"&mdash;had lived up to their responsibilities. The reputation
+of Hospital Earth rested on their shoulders, and they
+never forgot it.<a name="page43" id="page43"></a></p>
+
+<p>As he worked on his inventories, Dal Timgar thought of
+Doctor Arnquist's words to him after the council had
+handed down its decision. "Remember that judgment and
+skill are two different things," he had said. "Without skill
+in the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment, medical
+judgment isn't much help, but skill without the judgment
+to know how and when to use it can be downright
+dangerous. You'll be judged both on the judgment you
+use in deciding the right thing to do, and on the skill you
+use in doing it." He had given Dal the box with the coveted
+collar and cuff. "The colors are pretty, but never forget
+what they stand for. Until you can convince the council
+that you have both the skill and the judgment of a good
+physician, you will never get your Star. And you will be
+watched closely; Black Doctor Tanner and certain others
+will be waiting for the slightest excuse to recall you from
+the <i>Lancet</i>. If you give them the opportunity, nothing I can
+do will stop it."</p>
+
+<p>And now, as they worked to prepare the ship for service,
+Dal was determined that the opportunity would not arise.
+When he was not working in the storerooms, he was in the
+computer room, reviewing the thousands of tapes that carried
+the basic information about the contract planets where
+they would be visiting, and the races that inhabited them.
+If errors and fumbles and mistakes were made by the crew
+of the <i>Lancet</i>, he thought grimly, it would not be Dal
+Timgar who made them.</p>
+
+<p>The first night they met in the control room to divide the
+many extracurricular jobs involved in maintaining a patrol
+ship.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger's interest in electronics and communications made
+him the best man to handle the radio; he accepted the post
+without comment. "Jack, you should be in charge of the<a name="page44" id="page44"></a>
+computer," he said, "because you'll be the one who'll need
+the information first. The lab is probably your field too. Dal
+can be responsible for stores and supplies as well as his own
+surgical instruments."</p>
+
+<p>Jack shrugged. "I'd just as soon handle supplies, too,"
+he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's no need to overload one man," Tiger said.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't mind that. But when there's something I need,
+I want to be sure it's going to be there without any goof-ups,"
+Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"I can handle it all right," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>Jack just scowled. "What about the contact man when
+we make landings?" he asked Tiger.</p>
+
+<p>"Seems to me Dal would be the one for that, too," Tiger
+said. "His people are traders and bargainers; right, Dal?
+And first contact with the people on unfamiliar planets can
+be important."</p>
+
+<p>"It sure can," Jack said. "Too important to take chances
+with. Look, this is a ship from Hospital Earth. When somebody
+calls for help, they expect to see an Earthman turn
+up in response. What are they going to think when a patrol
+ship lands and <i>he</i> walks out?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger's face darkened. "They'll be able to see his collar
+and cuff, won't they?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe. But they may wonder what he's doing wearing
+them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they'll just have to learn," Tiger snapped. "And
+you'll have to learn, too, I guess."</p>
+
+<p>Dal had been sitting silently. Now he shook his head. "I
+think Jack is right on this one," he said. "It would be better
+for one of you to be contact man."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" Tiger said angrily. "You're as much of a doctor
+from Hospital Earth as we are, and the sooner we get your<a name="page45" id="page45"></a>
+position here straight, the better. We aren't going to have
+any ugly ducklings on this ship, and we aren't going to
+hide you in the hold every time we land on a planet. If we
+want to make anything but a mess of this cruise, we've got
+to work as a team, and that means everybody shares the
+important jobs."</p>
+
+<p>"That's fine," Dal said, "but I still think Jack is right on
+this point. If we are walking into a medical problem on a
+planet where the patrol isn't too well known, the contact
+man by rights ought to be an Earthman."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger started to say something, and then spread his hands
+helplessly. "Okay," he said. "If you're satisfied with it,
+let's get on to these other things." But obviously he wasn't
+satisfied, and when Jack disappeared toward the storeroom,
+Tiger turned to Dal. "You shouldn't have given in," he said.
+"If you give that guy as much as an inch, you're just asking
+for trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"It isn't a matter of giving in," Dal insisted. "I think he
+was right, that's all. Don't let's start a fight where we don't
+have to."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger yielded the point, but when Jack returned, Tiger
+avoided him, keeping to himself the rest of the evening.
+And later, as he tried to get to sleep, Dal wondered for a
+moment. Maybe Tiger was right. Maybe he was just dodging
+a head-on clash with the Blue Doctor now and setting
+the stage for a real collision later.</p>
+
+<p>Next day the argument was forgotten in the air of rising
+excitement as embarkation orders for the <i>Lancet</i> came
+through. Preparations were completed, and only last-minute
+double-checks were required before blast-off.</p>
+
+<p>But an hour before count-down began, a jitney buzzed
+across the field, and a Two-star Pathologist climbed aboard
+with his three black-cloaked orderlies. "Shakedown inspection,"<a name="page46" id="page46"></a>
+he said curtly. "Just a matter of routine." And with
+that he stalked slowly through the ship, checking the
+storage holds, the inventories, the lab, the computer with
+its information banks, and the control room. As he went
+along he kept firing medical questions at Dal and Tiger,
+hardly pausing long enough for the answers, and ignoring
+Jack Alvarez completely. "What's the normal range of
+serum cholesterol in a vegetarian race with Terran environment?
+How would you run a Wenberg electrophoresis?
+How do you determine individual radiation tolerance? How
+would you prepare a heart culture for cardiac transplant
+on board this ship?" The questions went on until Tiger and
+Dal were breathless, as count-down time grew closer and
+closer. Finally the Black Doctor turned back toward the
+entrance lock. He seemed vaguely disappointed as he checked
+the record sheets the orderlies had been keeping. With an
+odd look at Dal, he shrugged. "All right, here are your clearance
+papers," he said to Jack. "Your supply of serum globulin
+fractions is up to black-book requirements, but you'll run
+short if you happen to hit a virus epidemic; better take on
+a couple of more cases. And check central information just
+before leaving. We've signed two new contracts in the past
+week, and the co-ordinator's office has some advance information
+on both of them."</p>
+
+<p>When the inspector had gone, Tiger wiped his forehead
+and sighed. "That was no routine shakedown!" he said.
+"What <i>is</i> a Wenberg electrophoresis?"</p>
+
+<p>"A method of separating serum proteins," Jack Alvarez
+said. "You ran them in third year biochemistry. And if we
+<i>do</i> hit a virus epidemic, you'd better know how, too."</p>
+
+<p>He gave Tiger an unpleasant smile, and started back down
+the corridor as the count-down signal began to buzz.<a name="page47" id="page47"></a></p>
+
+<p>But for all the advance arrangements they had made to
+divide the ship's work, it was Dal Timgar who took complete
+control of the <i>Lancet</i> for the first two weeks of its
+cruise. Neither Tiger nor Jack challenged his command; not
+a word was raised in protest. The Earthmen were too sick
+to talk, much less complain about anything.</p>
+
+<p>For Dal the blast-off from the port of Seattle and the
+conversion into Koenig star-drive was nothing new. His
+father owned a fleet of Garvian trading ships that traveled
+to the far corners of the galaxy by means of a star-drive so
+similar to the Koenig engines that only an electronic engineer
+could tell them apart. All his life Dal had traveled on
+the outgoing freighters with his father; star-drive conversion
+was no surprise to him.</p>
+
+<p>But for Jack and Tiger, it was their first experience in a
+star-drive ship. The <i>Lancet</i>'s piloting and navigation were
+entirely automatic; its destination was simply coded into the
+drive computers, and the ship was ready to leap across light
+years of space in a matter of hours. But the conversion to
+star-drive, as the <i>Lancet</i> was wrenched, crew and all, out
+of the normal space-time continuum, was far outside of
+normal human experience. The physical and emotional shock
+of the conversion hit Jack and Tiger like a sledge hammer,
+and during the long hours while the ship was traveling
+through the time-less, distance-less universe of the drive to
+the pre-set co-ordinates where it materialized again into
+conventional space-time, the Earthmen were retching violently,
+too sick to budge from the bunk room. It took over
+two weeks, with stops at half a dozen contract planets,
+before Jack and Tiger began to adjust themselves to the
+frightening and confusing sensations of conversion to star-drive.
+During this time Dal carried the load of the ship's<a name="page48" id="page48"></a>
+work alone, while the others lay gasping and exhausted in
+their bunks, trying to rally strength for the next shift.</p>
+
+<p>To his horror, Dal discovered that the first planetary stop-over
+was traditionally a hazing stop. It had been a well-kept
+patrol secret; the outpost clinic on Tempera VI was waiting
+eagerly for the arrival of the new "green" crew, knowing
+full well that the doctors aboard would hardly be able to
+stumble out of their bunks, much less to cope with medical
+problems. The outpost men had concocted a medical "crisis"
+of staggering proportions to present to the <i>Lancet</i>'s crew;
+they were so clearly disappointed to find the ship's Red
+Doctor in full command of himself that Dal obligingly became
+violently ill too, and did his best to mimick Jack and
+Tiger's floundering efforts to pull themselves together and
+do <i>something</i> about the "problem" that suddenly descended
+upon them.</p>
+
+<p>Later, there was a party and celebration, with music and
+food, as the clinic staff welcomed the pale and shaken doctors
+into the joke. The outpost men plied Dal for the latest
+news from Hospital Earth. They were surprised to see a
+Garvian aboard the <i>Lancet</i>, but no one at the outpost showed
+any sign of resentment at the scarlet braid on Dal's collar
+and cuff.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly Jack and Tiger got used to the peculiarities of
+popping in and out of hyperspace. It was said that immunity
+to star-drive sickness was hard to acquire, but lasted a lifetime,
+and would never again bother them once it was
+achieved. Bit by bit the Earthmen crept out of their shells,
+to find the ship in order and a busy Dal Timgar relieved and
+happy to have them aboard again.</p>
+
+<p>Fortunately, the medical problems that came to the <i>Lancet</i>
+in the first few weeks were largely routine. The ship stopped
+at the specified contact points&mdash;some far out near the rim<a name="page49" id="page49"></a>
+of the galactic constellation, others in closer to the densely
+star-populated center. At each outpost clinic the <i>Lancet</i>
+was welcomed with open arms. The outpost men were hungry
+for news from home, and happy to see fresh supplies;
+but they were also glad to review the current medical problems
+on their planets with the new doctors, exchanging
+opinions and arguing diagnosis and therapy into the small
+hours of the night.</p>
+
+<p>Occasionally calls came in to the ship from contract planets
+in need of help. Usually the problems were easy to handle.
+On Singall III, a tiny planet of a cooling giant star, help was
+needed to deal with a new outbreak of a smallpox-like
+plague that had once decimated the population; the disease
+had finally been controlled after a Hospital Earth research
+team had identified the organism that caused it, determined
+its molecular structure, and synthesized an antibiotic that
+could destroy it without damaging the body of the host.
+But now a flareup had occurred. The <i>Lancet</i> brought in
+supplies of the antibiotic, and Tiger Martin spent two days
+showing Singallese physicians how to control further outbreaks
+with modern methods of immunization and antisepsis.</p>
+
+<p>Another planet called for a patrol ship when a bridge-building
+disaster occurred; one of the beetle-like workmen
+had been badly crushed under a massive steel girder. Dal
+spent over eighteen hours straight with the patient in the
+<i>Lancet</i>'s surgery, carefully repairing the creature's damaged
+exoskeleton and grafting new segments of bone for regeneration
+of the hopelessly ruined parts, with Tiger administering
+anaesthesia and Jack preparing the grafts from the freezer.</p>
+
+<p>On another planet Jack faced his first real diagnostic challenge
+and met the test with flying colors. Here a new cancer-like
+degenerative disease had been appearing among the
+natives of the planet. It had never before been noted. Initial<a name="page50" id="page50"></a>
+attempts to find a causative agent had all three of the <i>Lancet</i>'s
+crew spending sleepless nights for a week, but Jack's careful
+study of the pattern of the disease and the biochemical
+reactions that accompanied it brought out the answer: the
+disease was caused by a rare form of genetic change which
+made crippling alterations in an essential enzyme system.
+Knowing this, Tiger quickly found a drug which could be
+substituted for the damaged enzyme, and the problem was
+solved. They left the planet, assuring the planetary government
+that laboratories on Hospital Earth would begin working
+at once to find a way actually to rebuild the damaged
+genes in the embryonic cells, and thus put a permanent end
+to the disease.</p>
+
+<p>These were routine calls, the kind of ordinary general
+medical work that the patrol ships were expected to handle.
+But the visits to the various planets were welcome breaks
+in the pattern of patrol ship life. The <i>Lancet</i> was fully
+equipped, but her crew's quarters and living space were
+cramped. Under the best conditions, the crewmen on patrol
+ships got on each other's nerves; on the <i>Lancet</i> there was an
+additional focus of tension that grew worse with every passing
+hour.</p>
+
+<p>From the first Jack Alvarez had made no pretense of
+pleasure at Dal's company, but now it seemed that he deliberately
+sought opportunities to annoy him. The thin Blue
+Doctor's face set into an angry mold whenever Dal was
+around. He would get up and leave when Dal entered the
+control room, and complained loudly and bitterly at minor
+flaws in Dal's shipboard work. Nothing Dal did seemed to
+please him.</p>
+
+<p>But Tiger had a worse time controlling himself at the
+Blue Doctor's digs and slights than Dal did. "It's like living
+in an armed camp," he complained one night when Jack had<a name="page51" id="page51"></a>
+stalked angrily out of the bunk room. "Can't even open your
+mouth without having him jump down your throat."</p>
+
+<p>"I know," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"And he's doing it on purpose."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe so. But it won't help to lose your temper."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger clenched a huge fist and slammed it into his palm.
+"He's just deliberately picking at you and picking at you,"
+he said. "You can't take that forever. Something's got to
+break."</p>
+
+<p>"It's all right," Dal assured him. "I just ignore it."</p>
+
+<p>But when Jack began to shift his attack to Fuzzy, Dal
+could ignore it no longer.</p>
+
+<p>One night in the control room Jack threw down the report
+he was writing and turned angrily on Dal. "Tell your
+friend there to turn the other way before I lose my temper
+and splatter him all over the wall," he said, pointing to Fuzzy.
+"All he does is sit there and stare at me and I'm getting fed
+up with it."</p>
+
+<p>Fuzzy drew himself up tightly, shivering on Dal's shoulder.
+Dal reached up and stroked the tiny creature, and Fuzzy's
+shoe-button eyes disappeared completely. "There," Dal
+said. "Is that better?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack stared at the place the eyes had been, and his face
+darkened suspiciously. "Well, what happened to them?"
+he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened to what?"</p>
+
+<p>"To his eyes, you idiot!"</p>
+
+<p>Dal looked down at Fuzzy. "I don't see any eyes."</p>
+
+<p>Jack jumped up from the stool. He scowled at Fuzzy as
+if commanding the eyes to come back again. All he saw was
+a small ball of pink fur. "Look, he's been blinking them at
+me for a week," he snarled. "I thought all along there was
+something funny about him. Sometimes he's got legs and<a name="page52" id="page52"></a>
+sometimes he hasn't. Sometimes he looks fuzzy, and other
+times he hasn't got any hair at all."</p>
+
+<p>"He's a pleomorph," Dal said. "No cellular structure at
+all, just a protein-colloid matrix."</p>
+
+<p>Jack glowered at the inert little pink lump. "Don't be
+silly," he said, curious in spite of himself. "What holds him
+together?"</p>
+
+<p>"Who knows? I don't. Some kind of electro-chemical
+cohesive force. The only reason he has 'eyes' is because he
+thinks I want him to have eyes. If you don't like it, he won't
+have them any more."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's very obliging," Jack said. "But why do you
+keep him around? What good does he do you, anyhow?
+All he does is eat and drink and sleep."</p>
+
+<p>"Does he have to do something?" Dal said evasively. "He
+isn't bothering you. Why pick on him?"</p>
+
+<p>"He just seems to worry you an awful lot," Jack said
+unpleasantly. "Let's see him a minute." He reached out for
+Fuzzy, then jerked his finger back with a yelp. Blood dripped
+from the finger tip.</p>
+
+<p>Jack's face slowly went white. "Why, he&mdash;he <i>bit</i> me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, and you're lucky he didn't take a finger off," Dal
+said, trembling with anger. "He doesn't like you any more
+than I do, and you'll get bit every time you come near him,
+so you'd better keep your hands to yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry," Jack Alvarez said, "he won't get another
+chance. You can just get rid of him."</p>
+
+<p>"Not a chance," Dal said. "You leave him alone and he
+won't bother you, that's all. And the same thing goes for me."</p>
+
+<p>"If he isn't out of here in twelve hours, I'll get a warrant,"
+Jack said tightly. "There are laws against keeping dangerous
+pets on patrol ships."</p>
+
+<p>Somewhere in the main corridor an alarm bell began buzzing.<a name="page53" id="page53"></a>
+For a moment Dal and Jack stood frozen, glaring at
+each other. Then the door burst open and Tiger Martin's
+head appeared. "Hey, you two, let's get moving! We've got
+a call coming in, and it looks like a tough one. Come on
+back here!"</p>
+
+<p>They headed back toward the radio room. The signal was
+coming through frantically as Tiger reached for the pile of
+punched tape running out on the floor. But as they crowded
+into the radio room, Dal felt Jack's hand on his arm. "If you
+think I was fooling, you're wrong," the Blue Doctor said
+through his teeth. "You've got twelve hours to get rid of
+him."</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page54" id="page54"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter5" id="chapter5"></a>CHAPTER 5</h2>
+
+<h3>CRISIS ON MORUA VIII</h3>
+
+
+<p>The three doctors huddled around the teletype, watching
+as the decoded message was punched out on the tape.
+"It started coming in just now," Tiger said. "And they've
+been beaming the signal in a spherical pattern, apparently
+trying to pick up the nearest ship they could get. There's
+certainly some sort of trouble going on."</p>
+
+<p>The message was brief, repeated over and over: REQUIRE
+MEDICAL AID URGENT REPLY AT ONCE. This was followed by
+the code letters that designated the planet, its location, and
+the number of its medical service contract.</p>
+
+<p>Jack glanced at the code. "Morua VIII," he said. "I think
+that's a grade I contract." He began punching buttons on
+the reference panel, and several screening cards came down
+the slot from the information bank. "Yes. The eighth planet
+of a large Sol-type star, the only inhabited planet in the
+system with a single intelligent race, ursine evolutionary
+pattern." He handed the cards to Tiger. "Teddy-bears, yet!"</p>
+
+<p>"Mammals?" Tiger said.<a name="page55" id="page55"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Looks like it. And they even hibernate."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the contract?" Dal asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Grade I," said Tiger. "And they've had a thorough survey.
+Moderately advanced in their own medical care, but
+they have full medical coverage any time they think they
+need it. We'd better get an acknowledgment back to them.
+Jack, get the ship ready to star-jump while Dal starts digging
+information out of the bank. If this race has its own doctors,
+they'd only be hollering for help if they're up against a tough
+one."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger settled down with earphones and transmitter to try
+to make contact with the Moruan planet, while Jack went
+forward to control and Dal started to work with the tape
+reader. There was no argument now, and no dissension. The
+procedure to be followed was a well-established routine:
+acknowledge the call, estimate arrival time, relay the call
+and response to the programmers on Hospital Earth, prepare
+for star-drive, and start gathering data fast. With no hint of
+the nature of the trouble, their job was to get there, equipped
+with as much information about the planet and its people
+as time allowed.</p>
+
+<p>The Moruan system was not distant from the <i>Lancet</i>'s
+present location. Tiger calculated that two hours in Koenig
+drive would put the ship in the vicinity of the planet, with
+another hour required for landing procedures. He passed
+the word on to the others, and Dal began digging through
+the mass of information in the tape library on Morua VIII
+and its people.</p>
+
+<p>There was a wealth of data. Morua VIII had signed one
+of the first medical service contracts with Hospital Earth,
+and a thorough medical, biochemical, social and psychological
+survey had been made on the people of that world. Since
+the original survey, much additional information had been<a name="page56" id="page56"></a>
+amassed, based on patrol ship reports and dozens of specialty
+studies that had been done there.</p>
+
+<p>And out of this data, a picture of Morua VIII and its
+inhabitants began to emerge.</p>
+
+<p>The Moruans were moderately intelligent creatures,
+warm-blooded air breathers with an oxygen-based metabolism.
+Their planet was cold, with 17 per cent oxygen and
+much water vapor in its atmosphere. With its vast snow-fields
+and great mountain ranges, the planet was a popular
+resort area for oxygen-breathing creatures; most of the
+natives were engaged in some work related to winter sports.
+They were well fitted anatomically for their climate, with
+thick black fur, broad flat hind feet and a four-inch layer
+of fat between their skin and their vital organs.</p>
+
+<p>Swiftly Dal reviewed the emergency file, checking for
+common drugs and chemicals that were poisonous to
+Moruans, accidents that were common to the race, and
+special problems that had been met by previous patrol ships.
+The deeper he dug into the mass of data, the more worried
+he became. Where should he begin? Searching in the dark,
+there was no way to guess what information would be
+necessary and what part totally useless.</p>
+
+<p>He buzzed Tiger. "Any word on the nature of the
+trouble?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Just got through to them," Tiger said. "Not too much
+to go on, but they're really in an uproar. Sounds like they've
+started some kind of organ-transplant surgery and their
+native surgeon got cold feet halfway through and wants us
+to bail him out." Tiger paused. "I think this is going to be
+your show, Dal. Better check up on Moruan anatomy."</p>
+
+<p>It was better than no information, but not much better.
+Fuzzy huddled on Dal's shoulder as if he could sense his
+master's excitement. Very few races under contract with<a name="page57" id="page57"></a>
+Hospital Earth ever attempted their own major surgery.
+If a Moruan surgeon had walked into a tight spot in the
+operating room, it could be a real test of skill to get him&mdash;and
+his patient&mdash;out of it, even on a relatively simple procedure.
+But organ-transplantation, with the delicate vascular
+surgery and micro-surgery that it entailed, was never simple.
+In incompetent hands, it could turn into a nightmare.</p>
+
+<p>Dal took a deep breath and began running the anatomical
+atlas tapes through the reader, checking the critical points
+of Moruan anatomy. Oxygen-transfer system, circulatory
+system, renal filtration system&mdash;at first glance, there was
+little resemblance to any of the "typical" oxygen-breathing
+mammals Dal had studied in medical school. But then something
+struck a familiar note, and he remembered studying
+the peculiar Moruan renal system, in which the creature's
+chemical waste products were filtered from the bloodstream
+in a series of tubules passing across the peritoneum, and re-absorbed
+into the intestine for excretion. Bit by bit other
+points of the anatomy came clear, and in half an hour of
+intense study Dal began to see how the inhabitants of
+Morua VIII were put together.</p>
+
+<p>Satisfied for the moment, he then pulled the tapes that
+described the Moruans' own medical advancement. What
+were they doing attempting organ-transplantation, anyway?
+That was the kind of surgery that even experienced Star
+Surgeons preferred to take aboard the hospital ships, or back
+to Hospital Earth, where the finest equipment and the most
+skilled assistants were available.</p>
+
+<p>There was a signal buzzer, the two-minute warning before
+the Koenig drive took over. Dal tossed the tape spools back
+into the bin for refiling, and went forward to the control
+room.</p>
+
+<p>Just short of two hours later, the <i>Lancet</i> shifted back to<a name="page58" id="page58"></a>
+normal space drive, and the cold yellow sun of the Moruan
+system swam into sight in the viewscreen. Far below, the
+tiny eighth planet glistened like a snowball in the reflection
+of the sun, with only occasional rents in the cloud blanket
+revealing the ragged surface below. The doctors watched as
+the ship went into descending orbit, skimming the outer
+atmosphere and settling into a landing pattern.</p>
+
+<p>Beneath the cloud blanket, the frigid surface of the planet
+spread out before them. Great snow-covered mountain
+ranges rose up on either side. A forty-mile gale howled
+across the landing field, sweeping clouds of powdery snow
+before it.</p>
+
+<p>A huge gawky vehicle seemed to be waiting for the ship
+to land; it shot out from the huddle of gray buildings almost
+the moment they touched down. Jack slipped into the furs
+that he had pulled from stores, and went out through the
+entrance lock and down the ladder to meet the dark furry
+creatures that were bundling out of the vehicle below. The
+electronic language translator was strapped to his chest.</p>
+
+<p>Five minutes later he reappeared, frost forming on his
+blue collar, his face white as he looked at Dal. "You'd better
+get down there right away," he said, "and take your
+micro-surgical instruments. Tiger, give me a hand with the
+anaesthesia tanks. They're keeping a patient alive with a
+heart-lung machine right now, and they can't finish the job.
+It looks like it might be bad."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>The Moruan who escorted them across the city to the
+hospital was a huge shaggy creature who left no question
+of the evolutionary line of his people. Except for the flattened
+nose, the high forehead and the fur-less hand with
+opposing thumb, he looked for all the world like a mammoth
+edition of the Kodiak bears Dal had seen displayed at the<a name="page59" id="page59"></a>
+natural history museum in Hospital Philadelphia. Like all
+creatures with oxygen-and-water based metabolisms, the
+Moruans could trace their evolutionary line to minute one-celled
+salt-water creatures; but with the bitter cold of the
+planet, the first land-creatures to emerge from the primeval
+swamp of Morua VIII had developed the heavy furs and
+the hibernation characteristics of bear-like mammals. They
+towered over Dal, and even Tiger seemed dwarfed by their
+immense chest girth and powerful shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>As the surface car hurried toward the hospital, Dal probed
+for more information. The Moruan's voice was a hoarse
+growl which nearly deafened the Earthmen in the confined
+quarters of the car but Dal with the aid of the translator
+could piece together what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>More sophisticated in medical knowledge than most races
+in the galaxy, the Moruans had learned a great deal from
+their contact with Hospital Earth physicians. They actually
+did have a remarkable grasp of physiology and biochemistry,
+and constantly sought to learn more. They had already
+found ways to grow replacement organs from embryonic
+grafts, the Moruan said, and by copying the techniques used
+by the surgeons of Hospital Earth, their own surgeons had
+attempted the delicate job of replacing a diseased organ
+with a new, healthy one in a young male afflicted with
+cancer.</p>
+
+<p>Dal looked up at the Moruan doctor. "What organ were
+you replacing?" he asked suspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, not the entire organ, just a segment," the Moruan
+said. "The tumor had caused an obstructive pneumonia&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Are you talking about a segment of <i>lung</i>?" Dal said,
+almost choking.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course. That's where the tumor was."<a name="page60" id="page60"></a></p>
+
+<p>Dal swallowed hard. "So you just decided to replace a
+segment."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. But something has gone wrong, we don't know
+what."</p>
+
+<p>"I see." It was all Dal could do to keep from shouting at
+the huge creature. The Moruans had no duplication of
+organs, such as Earthmen and certain other races had. A
+tumor of the lung would mean death ... but the technique
+of grafting a culture-grown lung segment to a portion of
+natural lung required enormous surgical skill, and the finest
+microscopic instruments that could be made in order to
+suture together the tiny capillary walls and air tubules. And
+if one lung were destroyed, a Moruan had no other to take
+its place. "Do you have any micro-surgical instruments
+at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes," the Moruan rumbled proudly. "We made them
+ourselves, just for this case."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean you've never attempted this procedure before?"</p>
+
+<p>"This was the first time. We don't know where we went
+wrong."</p>
+
+<p>"You went wrong when you thought about trying it,"
+Dal muttered. "What anaesthesia?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oxygen and alcohol vapor."</p>
+
+<p>This was no surprise. With many species, alcohol vapor
+was more effective and less toxic than other anaesthetic
+gases. "And you have a heart-lung machine?"</p>
+
+<p>"The finest available, on lease from Hospital Earth."</p>
+
+<p>All the way through the city Dal continued the questioning,
+and by the time they reached the hospital he had an
+idea of the task that was facing him. He knew now that it
+was going to be bad; he didn't realize just how bad until
+he walked into the operating room.<a name="page61" id="page61"></a></p>
+
+<p>The patient was barely alive. Recognizing too late that
+they were in water too deep for them, the Moruan surgeons
+had gone into panic, and neglected the very fundamentals
+of physiological support for the creature on the table. Dal
+had to climb up on a platform just to see the operating field;
+the faithful wheeze of the heart-lung machine that was sustaining
+the creature continued in Dal's ears as he examined
+the work already done, first with the naked eye, then scanning
+the operative field with the crude microscopic eyepiece.</p>
+
+<p>"How long has he been anaesthetized?" he asked the
+shaggy operating surgeon.</p>
+
+<p>"Over eighteen hours already."</p>
+
+<p>"And how much blood has he received?"</p>
+
+<p>"A dozen liters."</p>
+
+<p>"Any more on hand?"</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps six more."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you'd better get it into him. He's in shock right
+now."</p>
+
+<p>The surgeon scurried away while Dal took another look
+at the micro field. The situation was bad; the anaesthesia had
+already gone on too long, and the blood chemistry record
+showed progressive failure.</p>
+
+<p>He stepped down from the platform, trying to clear his
+head and decide the right thing to do.</p>
+
+<p>He had done micro-surgery before, plenty of it, and he
+knew the techniques necessary to complete the job, but the
+thought of attempting it chilled him. At best, he was on
+unfamiliar ground, with a dozen factors that could go
+wrong. By now the patient was a dreadful risk for any
+surgeon. If he were to step in now, and the patient died,
+how would he explain not calling for help?</p>
+
+<p>He stepped out to the scrub room where Tiger was waiting.
+"Where's Jack?" he said.<a name="page62" id="page62"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Went back to the ship for the rest of the surgical pack."</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I think
+we should get him to a hospital ship."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it more than you can handle?" Tiger said.</p>
+
+<p>"I could probably do it all right&mdash;but I could lose him,
+too."</p>
+
+<p>A frown creased Tiger's face. "Dal, it would take six
+hours for a hospital ship to get here."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that. But on the other hand...." Dal spread his
+hands. He felt Fuzzy crouching in a tight frightened lump
+in his pocket. He thought again of the delicate, painstaking
+microscopic work that remained to be done to bring the
+new section of lung into position to function, and he shook
+his head. "Look, these creatures hibernate," he said. "If we
+could get him cooled down enough, we could lighten the
+anaesthesia and maintain him as is, indefinitely."</p>
+
+<p>"This is up to you," Tiger said. "I don't know anything
+about surgery. If you think we should just hold tight, that's
+what we'll do."</p>
+
+<p>"All right. I think we'd better. Have them notify Jack
+to signal for a hospital ship. We'll just try to stick it out."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger left to pass the word, and Dal went back into the
+operating room. Suddenly he felt as if a great weight had
+been lifted from his shoulders. There would be Three-star
+Surgeons on a Hospital Ship to handle this; it seemed an
+enormous relief to have the task out of his hands. Yet something
+was wriggling uncomfortably in the back of his mind,
+a quiet little voice saying <i>this isn't right, you should be doing
+this yourself right now instead of wasting precious time....</i></p>
+
+<p>He thrust the thought away angrily and ordered the
+Moruan physicians to bring in ice packs to cool the patient's
+huge hulk down to hibernation temperatures. "We're going
+to send for help," Dal told the Moruan surgeon who had<a name="page63" id="page63"></a>
+met them at the ship. "This man needs specialized care, and
+we'd be taking too much chance to try to do it this way."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean you're sending for a hospital ship?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>This news seemed to upset the Moruans enormously.
+They began growling among themselves, moving back from
+the operating table.</p>
+
+<p>"Then you can't save him?" the operating surgeon said.</p>
+
+<p>"I think he can be saved, certainly!"</p>
+
+<p>"But we thought you could just step in&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I could, but that would be taking chances that we don't
+need to take. We can maintain him until the hospital ship
+arrives."</p>
+
+<p>The Moruans continued to growl ominously, but Dal
+brushed past them, checking the vital signs of the patient as
+his body temperature slowly dropped. Tiger had taken over
+the anaesthesia, keeping the patient under as light a dosage
+of medication as was possible.</p>
+
+<p>"What's eating them?" he asked Dal quietly.</p>
+
+<p>"They don't want a hospital ship here very much," Dal
+said. "Afraid they'll look like fools all over the Confederation
+if the word gets out. But that's their worry. Ours is to
+keep this bruiser alive until the ship gets here."</p>
+
+<p>They settled back to wait.</p>
+
+<p>It was an agonizing time for Dal. Even Fuzzy didn't seem
+to be much comfort. The patient was clearly not doing well,
+even with the low body temperatures Dal had induced. His
+blood pressure was sagging, and at one time Tiger sat up
+sharply, staring at his anaesthesia dials and frowning in
+alarm as the nervous-system reactions flagged. The Moruan
+physicians hovered about, increasingly uneasy as they saw
+the doctors from Hospital Earth waiting and doing nothing.
+One of them, unable to control himself any longer, tore off<a name="page64" id="page64"></a>
+his sterile gown and stalked angrily out of the operating
+suite.</p>
+
+<p>A dozen times Dal was on the verge of stepping in. It was
+beginning to look now like a race with time, and precious
+minutes were passing by. He cursed himself inwardly for
+not taking the bit in his teeth at the beginning and going
+ahead the best he could; it had been a mistake in judgment
+to wait. Now, as minutes passed into hours it looked more
+and more like a mistake that was going to cost the life of
+a patient.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a murmur of excitement outside the
+operating room, and word came in that another ship had
+been sighted making landing maneuvers. Dal clenched his
+fists, praying that the patient would last until the hospital
+ship crew arrived.</p>
+
+<p>But the ship that was landing was not a hospital ship.
+Someone turned on a TV scanner and picked up the image
+of a small ship hardly larger than a patrol ship, with just
+two passengers stepping down the ladder to the ground.
+Then the camera went close-up. Dal saw the faces of the
+two men, and his heart sank.</p>
+
+<p>One was a Four-star Surgeon, resplendent in flowing red
+cape and glistening silver insignia. Dal did not recognize
+the man, but the four stars meant that he was a top-ranking
+physician in the Red Service of Surgery.</p>
+
+<p>The other passenger, gathering his black cloak and hood
+around him as he faced the blistering wind on the landing
+field, was Black Doctor Hugo Tanner.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>Moments after the Four-star Surgeon arrived at the hospital,
+he was fully and unmistakably in command of the
+situation. He gave Dal an icy stare, then turned to the
+Moruan operating surgeon, whom he seemed to know very<a name="page65" id="page65"></a>
+well. After a short barrage of questions and answers, he
+scrubbed and gowned, and stalked past Dal to the crude
+Moruan micro-surgical control table.</p>
+
+<p>It took him exactly fifteen seconds to scan the entire
+operating field through the viewer, discussing the anatomy
+as the Moruan surgeon watched on a connecting screen.
+Then, without hesitation, he began manipulating the micro-instruments.
+Once or twice he murmured something to
+Tiger at the anaesthesia controls, and occasionally he nodded
+reassurance to the Moruan surgeon. He did not even invite
+Dal to observe.</p>
+
+<p>Ten minutes later he rose from the control table and threw
+the switch to stop the heart-lung machine. The patient took
+a gasping breath on his own, then another and another. The
+Four-star Surgeon stripped off his gown and gloves with a
+flourish. "It will be all right," he said to the Moruan physician.
+"An excellent job, Doctor, excellent!" he said. "Your
+technique was flawless, except for the tiny matter you have
+just observed."</p>
+
+<p>It was not until they were outside the operating room and
+beyond earshot of the Moruan doctors that the Four-star
+surgeon turned furiously to Dal. "Didn't you even bother
+to examine the operating field, Doctor? Where did you
+study surgery? Couldn't you tell that the fools had practically
+finished the job themselves? All that was needed was
+a simple great-vessel graft, which an untrained idiot could
+have done blindfolded. And for this you call me clear from
+Hospital Earth!"</p>
+
+<p>The surgeon threw down his mask in disgust and stalked
+away, leaving Dal and Tiger staring at each other in dismay.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page66" id="page66"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter6" id="chapter6"></a>CHAPTER 6</h2>
+
+<h3>TIGER MAKES A PROMISE</h3>
+
+
+<p>"I think," Black Doctor Hugo Tanner said ominously,
+"that an explanation is in order. I would now like to hear
+it. And believe me, gentlemen, it had better be a very sensible
+explanation, too."</p>
+
+<p>The pathologist was sitting in the control room of the
+<i>Lancet</i>, his glasses slightly askew on his florid face. He had
+climbed through the entrance lock ten minutes before,
+shaking snow off his cloak and wheezing like a boiler about
+to explode; now he faced the patrol ship's crew like a small
+but ominous black thundercloud. Across the room, Jack
+Alvarez was staring through the viewscreen at the blizzard
+howling across the landing field below, a small satisfied
+smile on his face, while Tiger sulked with his hands jammed
+into his trousers. Dal sat by himself feeling very much alone,
+with Fuzzy peering discreetly out of his jacket pocket.</p>
+
+<p>He knew the Black Doctor was speaking to him, but he
+didn't try to reply. He had known from the moment the
+surgeon came out of the operating room that he was in<a name="page67" id="page67"></a>
+trouble. It was just a matter of time before he would have
+to answer for his decision here, and it was even something
+of a relief that the moment came sooner rather than later.</p>
+
+<p>And the more Dal considered his position, the more indefensible
+it appeared. Time after time he had thought of
+Dr. Arnquist's words about judgment and skill. Without one
+the other was of little value to a doctor, and whatever his
+skill as a surgeon might have been in the Moruan operating
+room, he now realized that his judgment had been poor.
+He had allowed himself to panic at a critical moment, and
+had failed to see how far the surgery had really progressed.
+By deciding to wait for help to arrive instead of taking over
+at once, he had placed the patient in even greater jeopardy
+than before. In looking back, Dal could see clearly that it
+would have been far better judgment to proceed on his own.</p>
+
+<p>But that was how it looked <i>now</i>, not <i>then</i>, and there was
+an old saying that the "retrospectoscope" was the only infallible
+instrument in all medicine.</p>
+
+<p>In any event, the thing was done, and couldn't be changed,
+and Dal knew that he could only stand on what he had done,
+right or wrong.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm waiting," Black Doctor Tanner said, scowling
+at Dal through his thick-rimmed glasses. "I want to know
+who was responsible for this fiasco, and why it occurred
+in the first place."</p>
+
+<p>Dal spread his hands hopelessly. "What do you want me
+to say?" he asked. "I took a careful history of the situation
+as soon as we arrived here, and then I examined the patient
+in the operating room. I thought the surgery might be over
+my head, and couldn't see attempting it if a hospital ship
+could be reached in time. I thought the patient could be
+maintained safely long enough for us to call for help."<a name="page68" id="page68"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I see," the Black Doctor said. "You've done micro-surgery
+before?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And organ transplant work?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor opened a folder and peered at it over
+his glasses. "As a matter of fact, you spent two solid years
+in micro-surgical training in Hospital Philadelphia, with all
+sorts of glowing reports from your preceptors about what
+a flair you had for the work."</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "I&mdash;I did some work in the field, yes,
+but not on critical cases under field conditions."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean that this case required some different kind of
+technique than the cases you've worked on before?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, not really, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"But you just couldn't quite shoulder the responsibility
+the job involved when you got into a pinch without any
+help around," the Black Doctor growled.</p>
+
+<p>"I just thought it would be safer to wait," Dal said helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>"A good conservative approach," Dr. Tanner sneered.
+"Of course, you realized that prolonged anaesthesia in itself
+could threaten that patient's life?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And you saw the patient's condition steadily deteriorating
+while you waited, did you not?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was too late to change my mind then," Dal said desperately.
+"We'd sent for you. We knew that it would be
+only a matter of hours before you arrived."</p>
+
+<p>"Indeed," the Black Doctor said. "Unfortunately, it takes
+only seconds for a patient to cross the line between life and
+death, not hours. And I suppose you would have stood there<a name="page69" id="page69"></a>
+quietly and allowed him to expire if we had not arrived at
+the time we did?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head miserably. There was nothing he could
+answer to that, and he realized it. What could he say? That
+the situation seemed quite different now than it had under
+pressure in the Moruan operating room? That he would
+have been blamed just as much if he had gone ahead, and
+then lost the case? His fingers stole down to Fuzzy's soft
+warm body for comfort, and he felt the little creature cling
+closer to his side.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor looked up at the others. "Well? What
+do the rest of you have to say?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack Alvarez shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a surgeon,"
+he said, "but even I could see that <i>something</i> should be done
+without delay."</p>
+
+<p>"And what does the Green Doctor think?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger shrugged. "We misjudged the situation, that's all.
+It came out fortunately for the patient, why make all this
+fuss about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Because there are other things at stake than just medical
+considerations," the Black Doctor shot back. "This planet
+has a grade I contract with Hospital Earth. We guarantee
+them full medical coverage of all situations and promise them
+immediate response to any call for medical help that they
+may send us. It is the most favorable kind of contract we
+have; when Morua VIII calls for help they expect their call
+to be answered by expert medical attention, not by inept
+bungling."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor leafed through the folder in his hands.
+"We have built our reputation in the Galactic Confederation
+on this kind of contract, and our admission to full
+membership in the Confederation will ultimately depend
+upon how we fulfill our promises. Poor medical judgment<a name="page70" id="page70"></a>
+cannot be condoned under any circumstances&mdash;but above
+all, we cannot afford to jeopardize a contract."</p>
+
+<p>Dal stared at him. "I&mdash;I had no intention of jeopardizing
+a contract," he faltered.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps not," the Black Doctor said. "But you were the
+doctor on the spot, and you were so obviously incompetent
+to handle the situation that even these clumsy Moruan surgeons
+could see it. Their faith in the doctors from Hospital
+Earth has been severely shaken. They are even talking of
+letting their contract lapse at the end of this term."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger Martin jumped to his feet. "Doctor Tanner, even
+Four-star Surgeons lose patients sometimes. These people
+should be glad that the doctor they call has sense enough to
+call for help if he needs it."</p>
+
+<p>"But no help was needed," the Black Doctor said angrily.
+"Any half-decent surgeon would have handled the case.
+If the Moruans see a patrol ship bring in one incompetent
+doctor, what are they going to expect the next time they
+have need for help? How can they feel sure that their medical
+needs are well taken care of?" He shook his head grimly.
+"This is the sort of responsibility that doctors on the patrol
+ships are expected to assume. If you call for help where there
+is need for help, no one will ever complain; but when you
+turn and run the moment things get tough, you are not fit
+for patrol ship service."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor turned to Dal Timgar. "You had ample
+warning," he said. "It was clearly understood that your
+assignment on this ship depended upon the fulfillment of the
+duties of Red Doctor here, and now at the first real test you
+turn and run instead of doing your job. All right. You had
+your opportunity. You can't complain that we haven't given
+you a chance. According to the conduct code of the General
+Practice Patrol, section XIV, paragraph 2, any physician<a name="page71" id="page71"></a>
+in the patrol on probationary status who is found delinquent
+in executing his duties may be relieved of his assignment at
+the order of any Black Doctor, or any other physician of
+four-star rank." Doctor Tanner closed the folder with a snap
+of finality. "It seems to me that the case is clear. Dal Timgar,
+on the authority of the Code, I am now relieving you of
+duty&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a minute," Tiger Martin burst out.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor looked up at him. "Well?"</p>
+
+<p>"This is ridiculous," Tiger said. "Why are you picking on
+<i>him</i>? Or do you mean that you're relieving all three of us?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I'm not relieving all three of you," the Black
+Doctor snapped. "You and Dr. Alvarez will remain on duty
+and conduct the ship's program without a Red Doctor until
+a man is sent to replace this bungler. That also is provided
+for in the code."</p>
+
+<p>"But I understood that we were operating as a diagnostic
+and therapeutic team," Tiger protested. "And I seem to
+remember something in the code about fixing responsibility
+before a man can be relieved."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no question where the responsibility lies," the
+Black Doctor said, his face darkening. "This was a surgical
+problem, and Dal Timgar made the decisions. I don't see
+anything to argue."</p>
+
+<p>"There's plenty to argue," Tiger said. "Dal, don't you
+see what he's trying to do?"</p>
+
+<p>Across the room Dal shook his head wearily. "You'd better
+keep out of it, Tiger," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should I keep out of it and let you be drummed
+out of the patrol for something that wasn't even your fault?"
+Tiger said. He turned angrily to the Black Doctor. "Dal
+wasn't the one that wanted the hospital ship called," he said.<a name="page72" id="page72"></a>
+"I was. If you're going to relieve somebody, you'd better
+make it me."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor pulled off his glasses and glared at
+Tiger. "Whatever are you talking about?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Just what I said. We had a conference after he'd examined
+the patient in the operating room, and I insisted that
+we call the hospital ship. Why, Dal&mdash;Dal wanted to go ahead
+and try to finish the case right then, and I wouldn't let him,"
+Tiger blundered on. "I didn't think the patient could take it.
+I thought that it would be too great a risk with the facilities
+we had here."</p>
+
+<p>Dal was staring at Tiger, and he felt Fuzzy suddenly
+shivering violently in his pocket. "Tiger, don't be foolish&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor slammed the file down on the table
+again. "Is this true, what he's saying?" he asked Dal.</p>
+
+<p>"No, not a word of it," Dal said. "I wanted to call the
+hospital ship."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course he won't admit it," Tiger said angrily. "He's
+afraid you'll kick me out too, but it's true just the same in
+spite of what he says."</p>
+
+<p>"And what do <i>you</i> say?" the Black Doctor said, turning
+to Jack Alvarez.</p>
+
+<p>"I say it's carrying this big brother act too far," Jack said.
+"I didn't notice any conferences going on."</p>
+
+<p>"You were back at the ship getting the surgical pack,"
+Tiger said. "You didn't know anything about it. You didn't
+hear us talking, and we didn't see any reason to consult you
+about it."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor stared from Dal to Tiger, his face
+growing angrier by the minute. He jerked to his feet, and
+stalked back and forth across the control room, glaring at
+them. Then he took a capsule from his pocket, gulped it
+down with some water, and sat back down. "I ought to<a name="page73" id="page73"></a>
+throw you both out on your ears," he snarled. "But I am
+forced to control myself. I mustn't allow myself to get
+angry&mdash;" He crashed his fist down on the control panel.
+"I suppose that you would swear to this statement of yours
+if it came to that?" he asked Tiger.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I certainly
+would."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," the Black Doctor said tightly. "Then you win
+this one. The code says that two opinions can properly
+decide any course of action. If you insist that two of you
+agreed on this decision, then I am forced to support you
+officially. I will make a report of the incident to patrol
+headquarters, and it will go on the permanent records of all
+three of this ship's crew&mdash;including my personal opinion of
+the decision." He looked up at Dal. "But be very careful,
+my young friend. Next time you may not have a technicality
+to back you up, and I'll be watching for the first plausible
+excuse to break you, and your Green Doctor friend as well.
+One misstep, and you're through. And I assure you that is
+not just an idle threat. I mean every word of it."</p>
+
+<p>And trembling with rage, the Black Doctor picked up the
+folder, wrapped his cape around him, and marched out of
+the control room.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>"Well, you put on a great show," Jack Alvarez said later
+as they prepared the ship for launching from the snow-swept
+landing field on Morua VIII. An hour before the ground
+had trembled as the Black Doctor's ship took off with Dr.
+Tanner and the Four-star Surgeon aboard; now Jack broke
+the dark silence in the <i>Lancet</i>'s control room for the first
+time. "A really great show. You missed your calling, Tiger.
+You should have been on the stage. If you think you fooled
+Dr. Tanner with that story for half a second, you're crazy,<a name="page74" id="page74"></a>
+but I guess you got what you wanted. You kept your pal's
+cuff and collar for him, and you put a black mark on all of
+our records, including mine. I hope you're satisfied."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger Martin took off his earphones and set them carefully
+on the control panel. "You know," he said to Jack,
+"you're lucky."</p>
+
+<p>"Really?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're lucky I don't wipe that sneer off your face and
+scrub the walls with it. And you'd better not crowd your
+luck, because all I need right now is an invitation." He
+stood up, towering over the dark-haired Blue Doctor. "You
+bet I'm satisfied. And if you got a black mark along with
+the rest of us, you earned it all the way."</p>
+
+<p>"That still doesn't make it right," Dal said from across
+the room.</p>
+
+<p>"You just keep out of this for a minute," Tiger said.
+"Jack has got to get a couple of things straight, and this is
+the time for it right now."</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "I can't keep out of it," he said. "You
+got me off the hook by shifting the blame, but you put
+yourself in trouble doing it. Dr. Tanner could just as well
+have thrown us both out of the service as not."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger snorted. "On what grounds? For a petty little error
+like this? He wouldn't dare! You ought to read the log books
+of some of the other GPP ships some time and see the kind
+of bloopers they pull without even a reprimand. Don't
+worry, he was mad enough to throw us both out if he
+thought he could make it stick, but he knew he couldn't.
+He knew the council would just review the case and reverse
+his decision."</p>
+
+<p>"It was still my error, not yours," Dal protested. "I should
+have gone ahead and finished the case on the spot. I knew it
+at the time, and I just didn't quite dare."<a name="page75" id="page75"></a></p>
+
+<p>"So you made a mistake," Tiger said. "You'll make a
+dozen more before you get your Star, and if none of them
+amount to any more than this one, you can be very happy."
+He scowled at Jack. "It's only thanks to our friend here
+that the Black Doctor heard about this at all. A hospital ship
+would have come to take the patient aboard, and the local
+doctors would have been quieted down and that would have
+been all there was to it. This business about losing a contract
+is a lot of nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you think this thing was just used as an excuse
+to get at me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Ask him," Tiger said, looking at Jack again. "Ask him
+why a Black Doctor and a Four-star Surgeon turned up
+when we just called for a hospital ship."</p>
+
+<p>"I called the hospital ship," Jack said sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>"But you called Dr. Tanner too," said Tiger. "Your nose
+has been out of joint ever since Dal came aboard this ship.
+You've made things as miserable for him as you could, and
+you just couldn't wait for a chance to come along to try
+to scuttle him."</p>
+
+<p>"All right," Jack said, "but he was making a mistake. Anybody
+could see that. What if the patient had died while he
+was standing around waiting? Isn't that important?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger started to answer, and then threw up his hands in
+disgust. "It's important&mdash;but something else is more important.
+We've got a job to do on this ship, and we can't do it
+fighting each other. Dal misjudged a case and got in trouble.
+Fine, he won't make that mistake again. It could just as well
+have been you, or me. We'll all make mistakes, but if we
+can't work as a team, we're sunk. We'll all be drummed out
+of the patrol before a year is out." Tiger stopped to catch
+his breath, his face flushed with anger. "Well, I'm fed up
+with this back-stabbing business. I don't want a fight any<a name="page76" id="page76"></a>
+more than Dal does, but if I have to fight, I'll fight to get it
+over with, and you'd better be careful. If you pull any more
+sly ones, you'd better include me in the deal, because if Dal
+goes, I go too. And that's a promise."</p>
+
+<p>There was silence for a moment as Jack stared up at Tiger's
+angry face. He shook his head and blinked, as though he
+couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He looked
+across at Dal, and then back at Tiger again. "You mean
+you'd turn in your collar and cuff?" he said.</p>
+
+<p>"If it came to that."</p>
+
+<p>"I see." Jack sat down at the control panel, still shaking
+his head. "I think you really mean it," he said soberly. "This
+isn't just a big brother act. You really like the guy, don't
+you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I do," Tiger said, "but I don't like to watch anybody
+get kicked around just because somebody else doesn't
+happen to like him."</p>
+
+<p>The control room was very quiet. Then somewhere below
+a motor clicked on, and the ventilation fan made a quiet
+whirring sound. The teletype clicked sporadically down the
+corridor in the communications room. Dal sat silently, rubbing
+Fuzzy between the eyes and watching the two Earthmen.
+It seemed suddenly as if they were talking about somebody
+a million miles away, as if he were not even in the
+room.</p>
+
+<p>Then the Blue Doctor shrugged and rose to his feet. "All
+right," he said to Tiger. "I guess I just didn't understand
+where you stood, and I suppose it wasn't my job to let the
+Black Doctor know about the situation here. I don't plan
+to be making all the mistakes you think we're going to make,
+and I won't take the blame for anybody else's, but I guess
+we've got to work together in the tight spots." He gave Dal
+a lop-sided grin. "Welcome aboard," he said. "We'd better<a name="page77" id="page77"></a>
+get this crate airborne before the people here come and cart
+it away."</p>
+
+<p>They moved then, and the subject was dropped. Half an
+hour later the <i>Lancet</i> lifted through the atmospheric pull of
+the Moruan planet and moved on toward the next contact
+point, leaving the recovering patient in the hands of the native
+physicians. It was not until hours later that Dal noticed
+that Fuzzy had stopped quivering, and was resting happily
+and securely on his shoulder even when the Blue Doctor
+was near.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page78" id="page78"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter7" id="chapter7"></a>CHAPTER 7</h2>
+
+<h3>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</h3>
+
+
+<p>Once more the crew of the <i>Lancet</i> settled down to
+routine, and the incident on Morua VIII seemed almost
+forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>But a change had come about in the relations between the
+three doctors, and in every way the change was for the
+better. If Jack Alvarez was not exactly cordial to Dal Timgar,
+at least he had dropped the open antagonism that he had
+shown before. Apparently Tiger's angry outburst had
+startled Jack, as though he had never really considered that
+the big Earthman might honestly be attached to his friend
+from Garv II, and the Blue Doctor seemed sincere in his
+agreement to work with Dal and Tiger as a team.</p>
+
+<p>But bit by bit Dal could sense that the change in Jack's
+attitude went deeper than the surface. "You know, I really
+think he was <i>scared</i> of me," Dal said one night when he and
+Tiger were alone. "Sounds silly, but I think it's true. He
+pretends to be so sure of himself, but I think he's as worried
+about doing things wrong as we are, and just won't admit it.<a name="page79" id="page79"></a>
+And he really thought I was a threat when I came aboard."</p>
+
+<p>"He probably had a good thorough briefing from Black
+Doctor Tanner before he got the assignment," Tiger said
+grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe&mdash;but somehow I don't think he cares for the
+Black Doctor much more than we do."</p>
+
+<p>But whatever the reason, much of the tension was gone
+when the <i>Lancet</i> had left the Moruan system behind. A great
+weight seemed to have been lifted, and if there was not quite
+peace on board, at least there was an uneasy truce. Tiger
+and Jack were almost friendly, talking together more often
+and getting to know each other better. Jack still avoided
+Dal and seldom included him in conversations, but the open
+contempt of the first few weeks on the ship now seemed
+tempered somewhat.</p>
+
+<p>Once again the <i>Lancet</i>'s calls fell into a pattern. Landings
+on the outpost planets became routine, bright spots in a
+lonely and wandering existence. The calls that came in represented
+few real problems. The ship stopped at one contract
+planet to organize a mass inoculation program against a
+parasitic infestation resembling malaria. They paused at
+another place to teach the native doctors the use of some
+new surgical instruments that had been developed in Hospital
+Earth laboratories just for them. Frantic emergency
+calls usually proved to involve trivial problems, but once
+or twice potentially serious situations were spotted early,
+before they could develop into real trouble.</p>
+
+<p>And as the three doctors got used to the responsibilities
+of a patrol ship's rounds, and grew more confident of their
+ability to handle the problems thrust upon them, they found
+themselves working more and more efficiently as a team.</p>
+
+<p>This was the way the General Practice Patrol was supposed
+to function. Each doctor had unsuspected skills that<a name="page80" id="page80"></a>
+came to light. There was no questioning Jack Alvarez's skill
+as a diagnostician, but it seemed uncanny to Dal the way the
+slender, dark-haired Earthman could listen carefully to a
+medical problem of an alien race on a remote planet, and
+then seem to know exactly which questions to ask to draw
+out the significant information about the situation. Tiger
+was not nearly as quick and clever as Jack; he needed more
+time to ponder a question of medical treatment, and he
+would often spend long hours poring over the data tapes
+before deciding what to do in a given case&mdash;but he always
+seemed to come up with an answer, and his answers usually
+worked. Above all, Tiger's relations with the odd life-forms
+they encountered were invariably good; the creatures seemed
+to like him, and would follow his instructions faithfully.</p>
+
+<p>Dal, too, had opportunities to demonstrate that his surgical
+skill and judgment was not universally faulty in spite
+of the trouble on Morua VIII. More than once he succeeded
+in almost impossible surgical cases where there was no time
+to call for help, and little by little he could sense Jack's
+growing confidence in his abilities, grudging though it
+might be.</p>
+
+<p>Dal had ample time to mull over the thing that had happened
+on Morua VIII and to think about the interview with
+Black Doctor Tanner afterward. He knew he was glad that
+Tiger had intervened even on the basis of a falsehood; until
+Tiger had spoken up Dal had been certain that the Black
+Doctor fully intended to use the incident as an excuse to
+discharge him from the General Practice Patrol. There was
+no question in his mind that the Black Doctor's charges had
+been exaggerated into a trumped-up case against him, and
+there was no question that Tiger's insistence on taking the
+blame had saved him; he could not help being thankful.</p>
+
+<p>Yet there was something about it that disturbed Dal, nibbling<a name="page81" id="page81"></a>
+away persistently at his mind. He couldn't throw off
+the feeling that his own acceptance of Tiger's help had been
+wrong.</p>
+
+<p>Part of it, he knew, was his native, inbred loathing for
+falsehood. Fair or unfair, Dal had always disliked lying.
+Among his people, the truth might be bent occasionally, but
+frank lying was considered a deep disgrace, and there was a
+Garvian saying that "a false tongue wins no true friends."
+Garvian traders were known throughout the Galaxy as
+much for their rigid adherence to their word as they were
+for the hard bargains they could drive; Dal had been enormously
+confused during his first months on Hospital Earth
+by the way Earthmen seemed to accept lying as part of their
+daily life, unconcerned about it as long as the falsehood
+could not be proven.</p>
+
+<p>But something else about Tiger's defense of him bothered
+Dal far more than the falsehood&mdash;something that had vaguely
+disturbed him ever since he had known the big Earthman,
+and that now seemed to elude him every time he tried to
+pinpoint it. Lying in his bunk during a sleep period, Dal
+remembered vividly the first time he had met Tiger, early
+in the second year of medical school. Dal had almost despaired
+by then of making friends with his hostile and
+resentful classmates and had begun more and more to avoid
+contact with them, building up a protective shell and relying
+on Fuzzy for company or comfort. Then Tiger had found
+him eating lunch by himself in the medical school lounge
+one day and flopped down in the seat beside him and began
+talking as if Dal were just another classmate. Tiger's open
+friendliness had been like a spring breeze to Dal who was
+desperately lonely in this world of strangers; their friendship
+had grown rapidly, and gradually others in the class had
+begun to thaw enough at least to be civil when Dal was<a name="page82" id="page82"></a>
+around. Dal had sensed that this change of heart was largely
+because of Tiger and not because of him, yet he had welcomed
+it as a change from the previous intolerable coldness
+even though it left him feeling vaguely uneasy. Tiger was
+well liked by the others in the class; Dal had been grateful
+more than once when Tiger had risen in hot defense of the
+Garvian's right to be studying medicine among Earthmen
+in the school on Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>But that had been in medical school, among classmates.
+Somehow that had been different from the incident that
+occurred on Morua VIII, and Dal's uneasiness grew stronger
+than ever the more he thought of it. Talking to Tiger about
+it was no help; Tiger just grinned and told him to forget it,
+but even in the rush of shipboard activity it stubbornly
+refused to be forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>One minor matter also helped to ease the tension between
+the doctors as they made their daily rounds. Tiger brought
+a pink dispatch sheet in to Dal one day, grinning happily.
+"This is from the weekly news capsule," he said. "It ought
+to cheer you up."</p>
+
+<p>It was a brief news note, listed under "incidental items."
+"The Black Service of Pathology," it said, "has announced
+that Black Doctor Hugo Tanner will enter Hospital Philadelphia
+within the next week for prophylactic heart surgery.
+In keeping with usual Hospital Earth administrative policy,
+the Four-star Black Doctor will undergo a total cardiac
+transplant to halt the Medical education administrator's progressively
+disabling heart disease." The note went on to
+name the surgeons who would officiate at the procedure.</p>
+
+<p>Dal smiled and handed back the dispatch. "Maybe it will
+improve his temper," he said, "even if it does give him another
+fifty years of active life."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, at least it will take him out of <i>our</i> hair for a while,"<a name="page83" id="page83"></a>
+Tiger said. "He won't have time to keep us under too close
+scrutiny."</p>
+
+<p>Which, Dal was forced to admit, did not make him too
+unhappy.</p>
+
+<p>Shipboard rounds kept all three doctors busy. Often, with
+contact landings, calls, and studying, it seemed only a brief
+time from sleep period to sleep period, but still they had
+some time for minor luxuries. Dal was almost continuously
+shivering, with the ship kept at a temperature that was comfortable
+for Tiger and Jack; he missed the tropical heat of
+his home planet, and sometimes it seemed that he was chilled
+down to the marrow of his bones in spite of his coat of gray
+fur. With a little home-made plumbing and ingenuity, he
+finally managed to convert one of the ship's shower units
+into a steam bath. Once or twice each day he would retire
+for a blissful half hour warming himself up to Garv II
+normal temperatures.</p>
+
+<p>Fuzzy also became a part of shipboard routine. Once he
+grew accustomed to Tiger and Jack and the surroundings
+aboard the ship, the little creature grew bored sitting on
+Dal's shoulder and wanted to be in the middle of things.
+Since the early tension had eased, he was willing to be apart
+from his master from time to time, so Dal and Tiger built
+him a platform that hung from the ceiling of the control
+room. There Fuzzy would sit and swing by the hour, blinking
+happily at the activity going on all around him.</p>
+
+<p>But for all the appearance of peace and agreement, there
+was still an undercurrent of tension on board the <i>Lancet</i>
+which flared up from time to time when it was least expected,
+between Dal and Jack. It was on one such occasion that a
+major crisis almost developed, and once again Fuzzy was the
+center of the contention.<a name="page84" id="page84"></a></p>
+
+<p>Dal Timgar knew that disaster had struck at the very
+moment it happened, but he could not tell exactly what was
+wrong. All he knew was that something fearful had happened
+to Fuzzy.</p>
+
+<p>There was a small sound-proof cubicle in the computer
+room, with a chair, desk and a tape-reader for the doctors
+when they had odd moments to spend reading up on recent
+medical bulletins or reviewing their textbooks. Dal spent
+more time here than the other two; the temperature of the
+room could be turned up, and he had developed a certain
+fondness for the place with its warm gray walls and its soft
+relaxing light. Here on the tapes were things that he could
+grapple with, things that he could understand. If a problem
+here eluded him, he could study it out until he had mastered
+it. The hours he spent here were a welcome retreat from the
+confusing complexities of getting along with Jack and Tiger.</p>
+
+<p>These long study periods were boring for Fuzzy who
+wasn't much interested in the oxygen-exchange mechanism
+of the intelligent beetles of Aldebaran VI. Frequently Dal
+would leave him to swing on his platform or explore about
+the control cabin while he spent an hour or two at the
+tape-reader. Today Dal had been working for over an hour,
+deeply immersed in a review of the intermediary metabolism
+of chlorine-breathing mammals, when something abruptly
+wrenched his attention from the tape.</p>
+
+<p>It was as though a light had snapped off in his mind, or
+a door slammed shut. There was no sound, no warning; yet,
+suddenly, he felt dreadfully, frighteningly alone, as if in a
+split second something inside him had been torn away. He
+sat bolt upright, staring, and he felt his skin crawl and his
+fingers tremble as he listened, trying to spot the source of
+the trouble.</p>
+
+<p>And then, almost instinctively, he knew what was wrong.<a name="page85" id="page85"></a>
+He leaped to his feet, tore open the door to the cubicle and
+dashed down the hallway toward the control room. "Fuzzy!"
+he shouted. "Fuzzy, <i>where are you</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger and Jack were both at the control panel dictating
+records for filing. They looked up in surprise as the Red
+Doctor burst into the room. Fuzzy's platform was hanging
+empty, gently swaying back and forth. Dal peered frantically
+around the room. There was no sign of the small pink
+creature.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is he?" he demanded. "What's happened to
+Fuzzy?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack shrugged in disgust. "He's up on his perch. Where
+else?"</p>
+
+<p>"He's not either! Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack blinked at the empty perch. "He was there just a
+minute ago. I saw him."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he's not there now, and something's wrong!" In a
+panic, Dal began searching the room, knocking over stools,
+scattering piles of paper, peering in every corner where
+Fuzzy might be concealed.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment the others sat frozen, watching him. Then
+Tiger jumped to his feet. "Hold it, hold it! He probably
+just wandered off for a minute. He does that all the time."</p>
+
+<p>"No, it's something worse than that." Dal was almost
+choking on the words. "Something terrible has happened.
+I know it."</p>
+
+<p>Jack Alvarez tossed the recorder down in disgust. "You
+and your miserable pet!" he said. "I knew we shouldn't have
+kept him on board."</p>
+
+<p>Dal stared at Jack. Suddenly all the anger and bitterness
+of the past few weeks could no longer be held in. Without
+warning he hurled himself at the Blue Doctor's throat.
+"Where is he?" he cried. "What have you done with him?<a name="page86" id="page86"></a>
+What have you done to Fuzzy? You've done something to
+him! You've hated him every minute just like you hate me,
+only he's easier to pick on. Now where is he? What have
+you done to him?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack staggered back, trying to push the furious little
+Garvian away. "Wait a minute! Get away from me! I didn't
+do anything!"</p>
+
+<p>"You did too! Where is he?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know." Jack struggled to break free, but there
+was powerful strength in Dal's fingers for all his slight body
+build. "I tell you, he was here just a minute ago."</p>
+
+<p>Dal felt a hand grip his collar then, and Tiger was dragging
+them apart like two dogs in a fight. "Now stop this!"
+he roared, holding them both at arm's length. "I said <i>stop it</i>!
+Jack didn't do anything to Fuzzy, he's been sitting here
+with me ever since you went back to the cubicle. He hasn't
+even budged."</p>
+
+<p>"But he's <i>gone</i>," Dal panted. "Something's happened to
+him. I <i>know</i> it."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+
+<p>"I&mdash;I just know. I can feel it."</p>
+
+<p>"All right, then let's find him," Tiger said. "He's got to
+be somewhere on the ship. If he's in trouble, we're wasting
+time fighting."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger let go, and Jack brushed off his shirt, his face very
+white. "I saw him just a little while ago," he said. "He was
+sitting up on that silly perch watching us, and then swinging
+back and forth and swinging over to that cabinet and back."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, let's get started looking," Tiger said.</p>
+
+<p>They fanned out, with Jack still muttering to himself,
+and searched the control room inch by inch. There was no
+sign of Fuzzy. Dal had control of himself now, but he<a name="page87" id="page87"></a>
+searched with a frantic intensity. "He's not in here," he said
+at last, "he must have gone out somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"There was only one door open," Tiger said. "The one
+you just came through, from the rear corridor. Dal, you
+search the computer room. Jack, check the lab and I'll go
+back to the reactors."</p>
+
+<p>They started searching the compartments off the rear
+corridor. For ten minutes there was no sound in the ship but
+the occasional slamming of a hatch, the grate of a desk
+drawer, the bang of a cabinet door. Dal worked through the
+maze of cubby-holes in the computer room with growing
+hopelessness. The frightening sense of loneliness and loss
+in his mind was overwhelming; he was almost physically
+ill. The warm, comfortable feeling of <i>contact</i> that he had
+always had before with Fuzzy was gone. As the minutes
+passed, hopelessness gave way to despair.</p>
+
+<p>Then Jack gave a hoarse cry from the lab. Dal tripped
+and stumbled in his haste to get down the corridor, and
+almost collided with Tiger at the lab door.</p>
+
+<p>"I think we're too late," Jack said. "He's gotten into the
+formalin."</p>
+
+<p>He lifted one of the glass beakers down from the shelf
+to the work bench. It was obvious what had happened. Fuzzy
+had gone exploring and had found the laboratory a fascinating
+place. Several of the reagents bottles had been knocked
+over as if he had been sampling them. The glass lid to the
+beaker of formalin which was kept for tissue specimens had
+been pushed aside just enough to admit the little creature's
+two-inch girth. Now Fuzzy lay in the bottom of the beaker,
+immersed in formalin, a formless, shapeless blob of sickly
+gray jelly.</p>
+
+<p>"Are you sure it's formalin?" Dal asked.</p>
+
+<p>Jack poured off the fluid, and the acrid smell of formaldehyde<a name="page88" id="page88"></a>
+that filled the room answered the question. "It's no
+good, Dal," he said, almost gently. "The stuff destroys protein,
+and that's about all he was. I'm sorry&mdash;I was beginning
+to like the little punk, even if he did get on my nerves. But
+he picked the one thing to fall into that could kill him.
+Unless he had some way to set up a protective barrier...."</p>
+
+<p>Dal took the beaker. "Get me some saline," he said tightly.
+"And some nutrient broth."</p>
+
+<p>Jack pulled out two jugs and poured their contents into
+an empty beaker. Dal popped the tiny limp form into the
+beaker and began massaging it. Layers of damaged tissue
+peeled off in his hand, but he continued massaging and
+changing the solutions, first saline, then nutrient broth.
+"Get me some sponges and a blade."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger brought them in. Carefully Dal began debriding
+the damaged outer layers. Jack and Tiger watched; then
+Jack said, "Look, there's a tinge of pink in the middle."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the faint pink in the center grew more ruddy.
+Dal changed solutions again, and sank down on a stool. "I
+think he'll make it," he said. "He has enormous regenerative
+powers as long as any fragment of him is left." He looked
+up at Jack who was still watching the creature in the beaker
+almost solicitously. "I guess I made a fool of myself back
+there when I jumped you."</p>
+
+<p>Jack's face hardened, as though he had been caught off
+guard. "I guess you did, all right."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I'm sorry. I just couldn't think straight. It was
+the first time I'd ever been&mdash;apart from him."</p>
+
+<p>"I still say he doesn't belong aboard," Jack said. "This
+is a medical ship, not a menagerie. And if you ever lay your
+hands on me again, you'll wish you hadn't."</p>
+
+<p>"I said I was sorry," Dal said.<a name="page89" id="page89"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I heard you," Jack said. "I just don't believe you, that's
+all."</p>
+
+<p>He gave Fuzzy a final glance, and then headed back to
+the control room.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>Fuzzy recovered, a much abashed and subdued Fuzzy,
+clinging timorously to Dal's shoulder and refusing to budge
+for three days, but apparently basically unharmed by his
+inadvertent swim in the deadly formalin bath. Presently he
+seemed to forget the experience altogether, and once again
+took his perch on the platform in the control room.</p>
+
+<p>But Dal did not forget. He said little to Tiger and Jack,
+but the incident had shaken him severely. For as long as
+he could remember, he had always had Fuzzy close at hand.
+He had never before in his life experienced the dreadful
+feeling of emptiness and desertion, the almost paralyzing
+fear and helplessness that he had felt when Fuzzy had lost
+contact with him. It had seemed as though a vital part of
+him had suddenly been torn away, and the memory of the
+panic that followed sent chills down his back and woke him
+up trembling from his sleep. He was ashamed of his unwarranted
+attack on Jack, yet even this seemed insignificant in
+comparison to the powerful fear that had been driving him.</p>
+
+<p>Happily, the Blue Doctor chose to let the matter rest
+where it was, and if anything, seemed more willing than
+before to be friendly. For the first time he seemed to take
+an active interest in Fuzzy, "chatting" with him when he
+thought no one was around, and bringing him occasional
+tid-bits of food after meals were over.</p>
+
+<p>Once more life on the <i>Lancet</i> settled back to routine, only
+to have it shattered by an incident of quite a different nature.
+It was just after they had left a small planet in the Procyon
+system, one of the routine check-in points, that they made
+contact with the Garvian trading ship.<a name="page90" id="page90"></a></p>
+
+<p>Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before
+the signals came in, and could hardly contain his excitement.
+He had not seen a fellow countryman for years except for
+an occasional dull luncheon with the Garvian ambassador
+to Hospital Earth during medical school days. The thought
+of walking the corridors of a Garvian trading ship again
+brought an overwhelming wave of homesickness. He was so
+excited he could hardly wait for Jack to complete the radio-sighting
+formalities. "What ship is she?" he wanted to know.
+"What house?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack handed him the message transcript. "The ship is the
+<i>Teegar</i>," he said. "Flagship of the SinSin trading fleet. They
+want permission to approach us."</p>
+
+<p>Dal let out a whoop. "Then it's a space trader, and a big
+one. You've never seen ships like these before."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger joined them, staring at the message transcript. "A
+SinSin ship! Send them the word, Jack, and be quick, before
+they get disgusted and move on."</p>
+
+<p>Jack sent out the approach authorization, and they
+watched with growing excitement as the great trading vessel
+began its close-approach maneuvers.</p>
+
+<p>The name of the house of SinSin was famous throughout
+the galaxy. It was one of the oldest and largest of the great
+trading firms that had built Garv II into its position of leadership
+in the Confederation, and the SinSin ships had penetrated
+to every corner of the galaxy, to every known planet
+harboring an intelligent life-form.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger and Jack had seen the multitudes of exotic products
+in the Hospital Earth stores that came from the great Garvian
+ships on their frequent visits. But this was more than a
+planetary trader loaded with a few items for a single planet.
+The space traders roamed from star system to star system,
+their holds filled with treasures beyond number. Such ships<a name="page91" id="page91"></a>
+as these might be out from Garv II for decades at a time,
+tempting any ship they met with the magnificent variety of
+wares they carried.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly the trader approached, and Dal took the speaker,
+addressing the commander of the <i>Teegar</i> in Garvian. "This
+is the General Practice Patrol Ship <i>Lancet</i>," he said, "out
+from Hospital Earth with three physicians aboard, including
+a countryman of yours."</p>
+
+<p>"Is that Dal Timgar?" the reply came back. "By the
+Seven Moons! We'd heard that there was now a Garvian
+physician, and couldn't believe our ears. Come aboard, all
+of you, you'll be welcome. We'll send over a lifeboat!"</p>
+
+<p>The <i>Teegar</i> was near now, a great gleaming ship with the
+sign of the house of SinSin on her hull. A lifeboat sprang
+from a launching rack and speared across to the <i>Lancet</i>.
+Moments later the three doctors were climbing into the
+sleek little vessel and moving across the void of space to the
+huge Garvian ship.</p>
+
+<p>It was like stepping from a jungle outpost village into
+a magnificent, glittering city. The Garvian ship was enormous;
+she carried a crew of several hundred, and the wealth
+and luxury of the ship took the Earthmen's breath away.
+The cabins and lounges were paneled with expensive fabrics
+and rare woods, the furniture inlaid with precious metals.
+Down the long corridors goods of the traders were laid out
+in resplendent display, surpassing the richest show cases in
+the shops on Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>They received a royal welcome from the commander of
+the <i>Teegar</i>, an aged, smiling little Garvian with a pink fuzz-ball
+on his shoulder that could have been Fuzzy's twin. He
+bowed low to Tiger and Jack, leading them into the reception
+lounge where a great table was spread with foods and
+pastries of all varieties. Then he turned to Dal and embraced<a name="page92" id="page92"></a>
+him like a long-lost brother. "Your father Jai Timgar has
+long been an honored friend of the house of SinSin, and
+anyone of the house of Timgar is the same as my own son
+and my son's son! But this collar! This cuff! Is it really
+possible that a man of Garv has become a physician of
+Hospital Earth?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal touched Fuzzy to the commander's fuzz-ball in the
+ancient Garvian greeting. "It's possible, and true," he said.
+"I studied there. I am the Red Doctor on this patrol ship."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, but this is good," the commander said. "What better
+way to draw our worlds together, eh? But come, you must
+look and see what we have in our storerooms, feast your
+eyes on the splendors we carry. For all of you, a thousand
+wonders are to be found here."</p>
+
+<p>Jack hesitated as the commander led them back toward
+the display corridors. "We'd be glad to see the ship, but you
+should know that patrol ship physicians have little money
+to spend."</p>
+
+<p>"Who speaks of money?" the commander cried. "Did I
+speak of it? Come and look! Money is nothing. The Garvian
+traders are not mere money-changers. Look and enjoy; if
+there is something that strikes your eye, something that
+would fulfill the desires of your heart, it will be yours."
+He gave Dal a smile and a sly wink. "Surely our brother here
+has told you many times of the wonders to be seen in a
+space trader, and terms can be arranged that will make any
+small purchase a painless pleasure."</p>
+
+<p>He led them off, like a head of state conducting visiting
+dignitaries on a tour, with a retinue of Garvian underlings
+trailing behind them. For two delirious hours they wandered
+the corridors of the great ship, staring hungrily at the dazzling
+displays. They had been away from Hospital Earth
+and its shops and stores for months; now it seemed they were<a name="page93" id="page93"></a>
+walking through an incredible treasure-trove stocked with
+everything that they could possibly have wanted.</p>
+
+<p>For Jack there was a dress uniform, specially tailored for
+a physician in the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the insignia
+woven into the cloth with gold and platinum thread. Reluctantly
+he turned away from it, a luxury he could never
+dream of affording. For Tiger, who had been muttering for
+weeks about getting out of condition in the sedentary life
+of the ship, there was a set of bar bells and gymnasium equipment
+ingeniously designed to collapse into a unit no larger
+than one foot square, yet opening out into a completely
+equipped gym. Dal's eyes glittered at the new sets of surgical
+instruments, designed to the most rigid Hospital Earth specifications,
+which appeared almost without his asking to see
+them. There were clothes and games, precious stones and
+exotic rings, watches set with Arcturian dream-stones, and
+boots inlaid with silver.</p>
+
+<p>They made their way through the corridors, reluctant to
+leave one display for the next. Whenever something caught
+their eyes, the commander snapped his fingers excitedly,
+and the item was unobtrusively noted down by one of the
+underlings. Finally, exhausted and glutted just from looking,
+they turned back toward the reception room.</p>
+
+<p>"The things are beautiful," Tiger said wistfully, "but
+impossible. Still, you were very kind to take your time&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Time? I have nothing but time." The commander smiled
+again at Dal. "And there is an old Garvian proverb that to the
+wise man 'impossible' has no meaning. Wait, you will see!"</p>
+
+<p>They came out into the lounge, and the doctors stopped
+short in amazement. Spread out before them were all of the
+items that had captured their interest earlier.</p>
+
+<p>"But this is ridiculous," Jack said staring at the dress<a name="page94" id="page94"></a>
+uniform. "We couldn't possibly buy these things, it would
+take our salaries for twenty years to pay for them."</p>
+
+<p>"Have we mentioned price even once?" the commander
+protested. "You are the crewmates of one of our own people!
+We would not dream of setting prices that we would normally
+set for such trifles as these. And as for terms, you have
+no worry. Take the goods aboard your ship, they are already
+yours. We have drawn up contracts for you which require
+no payment whatever for five years, and then payments of
+only a fiftieth of the value for each successive year. And for
+each of you, with the compliments of the house of SinSin,
+a special gift at no charge whatever."</p>
+
+<p>He placed in Jack's hands a small box with the lid tipped
+back. Against a black velvet lining lay a silver star, and the
+official insignia of a Star Physician in the Blue Service. "You
+cannot wear it yet, of course," the commander said. "But
+one day you will need it."</p>
+
+<p>Jack blinked at the jewel-like star. "You are very kind,"
+he said. "I&mdash;I mean perhaps&mdash;" He looked at Tiger, and then
+at the display of goods on the table. "Perhaps there are <i>some</i>
+things&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Already two of the Garvian crewmen were opening the
+lock to the lifeboat, preparing to move the goods aboard.
+Then Dal Timgar spoke up sharply. "I think you'd better
+wait a moment," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"And for you," the commander continued, turning to Dal
+so smoothly that there seemed no break in his voice at all,
+"as one of our own people, and an honored son of Jai Timgar,
+who has been kind to the house of SinSin for many years,
+I have something out of the ordinary. I'm sure your crewmates
+would not object to a special gift at my personal
+expense."</p>
+
+<p>The commander lifted a scarf from the table and revealed<a name="page95" id="page95"></a>
+the glittering set of surgical instruments, neatly displayed in
+a velvet-lined carrying case. The commander took it up
+from the table and thrust it into Dal's hands. "It is yours,
+my friend. And for this, there will be no contract whatever."</p>
+
+<p>Dal stared down at the instruments. They were beautiful.
+He longed just to touch them, to hold them in his hands,
+but he shook his head and set the case back on the table.
+He looked up at Tiger and Jack. "You should be warned
+that the prices on these goods are four times what they
+ought to be, and the deferred-payment contracts he wants
+you to sign will permit as much as 24 per cent interest on
+the unpaid balance, with no closing-out clause. That means
+you would be paying many times the stated price for the
+goods before the contract is closed. You can go ahead and
+sign if you want but understand what you're signing."</p>
+
+<p>The Garvian commander stared at him, and then shook
+his head, laughing. "Of course your friend is not serious,"
+he said. "These prices can be compared on any planet and
+you will see their fairness. Here, read the contracts, see what
+they say and decide for yourselves." He held out a sheaf of
+papers.</p>
+
+<p>"The contracts may sound well enough," Dal said, "but
+I'm telling you what they actually say."</p>
+
+<p>Jack looked stricken. "But surely just one or two things&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger shook his head. "Dal knows what he's talking about.
+I don't think we'd better buy anything at all."</p>
+
+<p>The Garvian commander turned to Dal angrily. "What
+are you telling them? There is nothing false in these contracts!"</p>
+
+<p>"I didn't say there was. I just can't see them taking a
+beating with their eyes shut, that's all. Your contracts are
+legal enough, but the prices and terms are piracy, and you
+know it."<a name="page96" id="page96"></a></p>
+
+<p>The commander glared at him for a moment. Then he
+turned away scornfully. "So what I have heard is true, after
+all," he said. "You really have thrown in your lot with these
+pill-peddlers, these idiots from Earth who can't even wipe
+their noses without losing in a trade." He signaled the lifeboat
+pilot. "Take them back to their ship, we're wasting our
+time. There are better things to do than to deal with traitors."</p>
+
+<p>The trip back to the <i>Lancet</i> was made in silence. Dal
+could sense the pilot's scorn as he dumped them off in their
+entrance lock, and dashed back to the <i>Teegar</i> with the lifeboat.
+Gloomily Jack and Tiger followed Dal into the control
+room, a drab little cubby-hole compared to the <i>Teegar</i>'s
+lounge.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Jack said finally, looking
+up at Dal. "But the way that guy slammed you, I wish
+we'd never gone."</p>
+
+<p>"I know," Dal said. "The commander just thought he saw
+a perfect setup. He figured you'd never question the contracts
+if I backed him up."</p>
+
+<p>"It would have been easy enough. Why didn't you?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal looked at the Blue Doctor. "Maybe I just don't like
+people who give away surgical sets," he said. "Remember,
+I'm not a Garvian trader any more. I'm a doctor from Hospital
+Earth."</p>
+
+<p>Moments later, the great Garvian ship was gone, and the
+red light was blinking on the call board. Tiger started tracking
+down the call while Jack went back to work on the
+daily log book and Dal set up food for dinner. The pleasant
+dreams were over; they were back in the harness of patrol
+ship doctors once again.</p>
+
+<p>Jack and Dal were finishing dinner when Tiger came back
+with a puzzled frown on his face. "Finally traced that call.<a name="page97" id="page97"></a>
+At least I think I did. Anybody ever hear of a star called
+31 Brucker?"</p>
+
+<p>"Brucker?" Jack said. "It isn't on the list of contracts.
+What's the trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sure," Tiger said. "I'm not even certain if it's
+a call or not. Come on up front and see what you think."</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page98" id="page98"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter8" id="chapter8"></a>CHAPTER 8</h2>
+
+<h3>PLAGUE!</h3>
+
+
+<p>In the control room the interstellar radio and teletype-translator
+were silent. The red light on the call board
+was still blinking; Tiger turned it off with a snap. "Here's
+the message that just came in, as near as I can make out,"
+he said, "and if you can make sense of it, you're way ahead
+of me."</p>
+
+<p>The message was a single word, teletyped in the center of
+a blue dispatch sheet:</p>
+
+<p class="centre">GREETINGS</p>
+
+<p>"This is all?" Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"That's every bit of it. They repeated it half a dozen
+times, just like that."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Who</i> repeated it?" Dal asked. "Where are the identification
+symbols?"</p>
+
+<p>"There weren't any," said Tiger. "Our own computer
+designated 31 Brucker from the direction and intensity of
+the signal. The question is, what do we do?"</p>
+
+<p>The message stared up at them cryptically. Dal shook his<a name="page99" id="page99"></a>
+head. "Doesn't give us much to go on, that's certain. Even
+the location could be wrong if the signal came in on an odd
+frequency or from a long distance. Let's beam back at the
+same direction and intensity and see what happens."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger took the earphones and speaker, and turned the
+signal beam to coincide with the direction of the incoming
+message.</p>
+
+<p>"We have your contact. Can you hear me? Who are you
+and what do you want?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a long delay and they thought the contact was
+lost. Then a voice came whispering through the static.
+"Where is your ship now? Are you near to us?"</p>
+
+<p>"We need your co-ordinates in order to tell," Tiger said.
+"Who are you?"</p>
+
+<p>Again a long pause and a howl of static. Then: "If you
+are far away it will be too late. We have no time left, we
+are dying...."</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly the voice message broke off and co-ordinates
+began coming through between bursts of static. Tiger scribbled
+them down, piecing them together through several
+repetitions. "Check these out fast," he told Jack. "This
+sounds like real trouble." He tossed Dal another pair of earphones
+and turned back to the speaker. "Are you a contract
+planet?" he signaled. "Do we have a survey on you?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a much longer pause. Then the voice came
+back, "No, we have no contract. We are all dying, but if
+you must have a contract to come...."</p>
+
+<p>"Not at all," Tiger sent back. "We're coming. Keep your
+frequency open. We will contact again when we are closer."</p>
+
+<p>He tossed down the earphones and looked excitedly at
+Dal. "Did you hear that? A planet calling for help, with no
+Hospital Earth contract!"<a name="page100" id="page100"></a></p>
+
+<p>"They sound desperate," Dal said. "We'd better go there,
+contract or no contract."</p>
+
+<p>"Of course we'll go there, you idiot. See if Jack has those
+co-ordinates charted, and start digging up information on
+them, everything you can find. We need all of the dope we
+can get and we need it fast. This is our golden chance to
+seal a contract with a new planet."</p>
+
+<p>All three of the doctors fell to work trying to identify
+the mysterious caller. Dal began searching the information
+file for data on 31 Brucker, punching all the reference tags
+he could think of, as well as the galactic co-ordinates of the
+planet. He could hardly control his fingers as the tapes with
+possible references began plopping down into the slots.
+Tiger was right; this was almost too good to be true. When
+a planet without a medical service contract called a GPP
+Ship for help, there was always hope that a brand new
+contract might be signed if the call was successful. And no
+greater honor could come to a patrol craft crew than to be
+the originators of a new contract for Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>But there were problems in dealing with uncontacted
+planets. Many star systems had never been explored by ships
+of the Confederation. Many races, like Earthmen at the time
+their star-drive was discovered, had no inkling of the existence
+of a Galactic Confederation of worlds. There might
+be no information whatever about the special anatomical
+and physiological characteristics of the inhabitants of an
+uncontacted planet, and often a patrol crew faced insurmountable
+difficulties, coming in blind to solve a medical
+problem.</p>
+
+<p>Dal had his information gathered first&mdash;a disappointingly
+small amount indeed. Among the billions of notes on file
+in the <i>Lancet</i>'s data bank, there were only two scraps of
+data available on the 31 Brucker system.<a name="page101" id="page101"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Is this all you could find?" Tiger said, staring at the
+information slips.</p>
+
+<p>"There's just nothing else there," Dal said. "This one is
+a description and classification of the star, and it doesn't
+sound like the one who wrote it had even been near it."</p>
+
+<p>"He hadn't," Tiger said. "This is a routine radio-telescopic
+survey report. The star is a red giant. Big and cold, with
+three&mdash;possibly four&mdash;planets inside the outer envelope of
+the star itself, and only one outside it. Nothing about satellites.
+None of the planets thought to be habitable by man.
+What's the other item?"</p>
+
+<p>"An exploratory report on the outer planet, done eight
+hundred years ago. Says it's an Earth-type planet, and not
+much else. Gives reference to the full report in the Confederation
+files. Not a word about an intelligent race living
+there."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, maybe Jack's got a bit more for us," Tiger said.
+"If the place has been explored, there must be <i>some</i> information
+about the inhabitants."</p>
+
+<p>But Jack also came up with a blank. Central Records on
+Hospital Earth sent back a physical description of a tiny
+outer planet of the star, with a thin oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere,
+very little water, and enough methane mixed in to
+make the atmosphere deadly to Earthmen.</p>
+
+<p>"Then there's never been a medical service contract?"
+Tiger asked.</p>
+
+<p>"Contract!" Jack said. "It doesn't even say there are any
+people there. Not a word about any kind of life form."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, that's ridiculous," Dal said. "If we're getting messages
+from there, somebody must be sending them. But if a
+Confederation ship explored there, there's a way to find out.
+How soon can we convert to star-drive?"</p>
+
+<p>"As soon as we can get strapped down," Tiger said.<a name="page102" id="page102"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Then send our reconversion co-ordinates to the Confederation
+headquarters on Garv II and request the Confederation
+records on the place."</p>
+
+<p>Jack stared at him. "You mean just ask to see Confederation
+records? We can't do that, they'd skin us alive. Those
+records are closed to everyone except full members of the
+Confederation."</p>
+
+<p>"Tell them it's an emergency," Dal said. "If they want
+to be legal about it, give them my Confederation serial number.
+Garv II is a member of the Confederation, and I'm a
+native-born citizen."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger got the request off while Jack and Dal strapped
+down for the conversion to Koenig drive. Five minutes later
+Tiger joined them, grinning from ear to ear. "Didn't even
+have to pull rank," he said. "When they started to argue,
+I just told them it was an emergency, and if they didn't let
+us see any records they had, we would file their refusal
+against claims that might come up later. They quit arguing.
+We'll have the records as soon as we reconvert."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>The star that they were seeking was a long distance from
+the current location of the <i>Lancet</i>. The ship was in Koenig
+drive for hours before it reconverted, and even Dal was
+beginning to feel the first pangs of drive-sickness before
+they felt the customary jolting vibration of the change to
+normal space, and saw bright stars again in the viewscreen.</p>
+
+<p>The star called 31 Brucker was close then. It was indeed
+a red giant; long tenuous plumes of gas spread out for hundreds
+of millions of miles on all sides of its glowing red core.
+This mammoth star did not look so cold now, as they stared
+at it in the viewscreen, yet among the family of stars it was
+a cold, dying giant with only a few moments of life left on
+the astronomical time scale. From the <i>Lancet</i>'s position, no<a name="page103" id="page103"></a>
+planets at all were visible to the naked eye, but with the
+telescope Jack soon found two inside the star's envelope of
+gas and one tiny one outside. They would have to be searched
+for, and the one that they were hoping to reach located
+before centering and landing maneuvers could be begun.</p>
+
+<p>Already the radio was chattering with two powerful
+signals coming in. One came from the Galactic Confederation
+headquarters on Garv II; the other was a good clear
+signal from very close range, unquestionably beamed to
+them from the planet in distress.</p>
+
+<p>They watched as the Confederation report came clacking
+off the teletype, and they stared at it unbelieving.</p>
+
+<p>"It just doesn't make sense," Jack said. "There <i>must</i> be
+intelligent creatures down there. They're sending radio
+signals."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why a report like this?" Tiger said. "This was
+filed by a routine exploratory ship that came here eight hundred
+years ago. You can't tell me that any intelligent race
+could develop from scratch in less than eight centuries' time."</p>
+
+<p>Dal picked up the report and read it again. "This red giant
+star," he read, "was studied in the usual fashion. It was found
+to have seven planets, all but one lying within the tenuous
+outer gas envelope of the star itself. The seventh planet has
+an atmosphere of its own, and travels an orbit well outside
+the star surface. This planet was selected for landing and
+exploration."</p>
+
+<p>Following this was a long, detailed and exceedingly dull
+description of the step-by-step procedure followed by a
+Confederation exploratory ship making a first landing on a
+barren planet. There was a description of the atmosphere,
+the soil surface, the land masses and major water bodies.
+Physically, the planet was a desert, hot and dry, and barren
+of vegetation excepting in two or three areas of jungle along<a name="page104" id="page104"></a>
+the equator. "The planet is inhabited by numerous small
+unintelligent animal species which seem well-adapted to the
+semi-arid conditions. Of higher animals and mammals only
+two species were discovered, and of these the most highly
+developed was an erect biped with an integrated central
+nervous system and the intelligence level of a Garvian
+<i>drachma</i>."</p>
+
+<p>"How small is that?" Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"Idiot-level," Dal said glumly. "I.Q. of about 20 on the
+human scale. I guess the explorers weren't much impressed;
+they didn't even put the planet down for a routine colonization
+survey."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, <i>something</i> has happened down there since then.
+Idiots can't build interstellar radios." Jack turned to Tiger.
+"Are you getting them?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger nodded. A voice was coming over the speaker,
+hesitant and apologetic, using the common tongue of the
+Galactic Confederation. "How soon can you come?" the
+voice was asking clearly, still with the sound of great reticence.
+"There is not much time."</p>
+
+<p>"But who are you?" Tiger asked. "What's wrong down
+there?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are sick, dying, thousands of us. But if you have
+other work that is more pressing, we would not want to
+delay you&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Jack shook his head, frowning. "I don't get this," he said.
+"What are they afraid of?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger spoke into the microphone again. "We will be glad
+to help, but we need information about you. You have our
+position&mdash;can you send up a spokesman to tell us your
+problem?"</p>
+
+<p>A long pause, and then the voice came back wearily. "It
+will be done. Stand by to receive him."<a name="page105" id="page105"></a></p>
+
+<p>Tiger snapped off the radio receiver and looked up triumphantly
+at the others. "Now we're getting somewhere.
+If the people down there can send a ship out with a spokesman
+to tell us about their troubles, we've got a chance to
+sew up a contract, and that could mean a Star for every one
+of us."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but who are they?" Dal said. "And where were
+they when the Confederation ship was here?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Jack said, "but I'll bet you both that we
+have quite a time finding out."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" Tiger said. "What do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"I mean we'd better be very careful here," Jack said
+darkly. "I don't know about you, but I think this whole
+business has a very strange smell."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>There was nothing strange about the Bruckian ship when
+it finally came into view. It was a standard design, surface-launching
+interplanetary craft, with separated segments on
+either side suggesting atomic engines. They saw the side jets
+flare as the ship maneuvered to come in alongside the <i>Lancet</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Grapplers were thrown out to bind the emissary ship to
+the <i>Lancet</i>'s hull, and Jack threw the switches to open the
+entrance lock and decontamination chambers. They had
+taken pains to describe the interior atmosphere of the patrol
+ship and warn the spokesman to keep himself in a sealed
+pressure suit. On the intercom viewscreens they saw the
+small suited figure cross from his ship into the <i>Lancet</i>'s lock,
+and watched as the sprays of formalin washed down the
+outside of the suit.</p>
+
+<p>Moments later the creature stepped out of the decontamination
+chamber. He was small and humanoid, with tiny
+fragile bones and pale, hairless skin. He stood no more than
+four feet high. More than anything else, he looked like a<a name="page106" id="page106"></a>
+very intelligent monkey with a diminutive space suit fitting
+his fragile body. When he spoke the words came through
+the translator in English; but Dal recognized the flowing
+syllables of the universal language of the Galactic Confederation.</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know the common tongue?" he said.
+"There is no record of your people in our Confederation,
+yet you use our own universal language."</p>
+
+<p>The Bruckian nodded. "We know the language well. My
+people dread outside contact&mdash;it is a racial characteristic&mdash;but
+we hear the Confederation broadcasts and have learned
+to understand the common tongue." The space-suited stranger
+looked at the doctors one by one. "We also know of
+the good works of the ships from Hospital Earth, and now
+we appeal to you."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" Jack said. "You gave us no information, nothing
+to go on."</p>
+
+<p>"There was no time," the creature said. "Death is stalking
+our land, and the people are falling at their plows. Thousands
+of us are dying, tens of thousands. Even I am infected
+and soon will be dead. Unless you can find a way to help us
+quickly, it will be too late, and my people will be wiped
+from the face of the planet."</p>
+
+<p>Jack looked grimly at Tiger and Dal. "Well," he said,
+"I guess that answers our question, all right. It looks as if
+we have a plague planet on our hands, whether we like it
+or not."</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page107" id="page107"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter9" id="chapter9"></a>CHAPTER 9</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Slowly and patiently they drew the story from the
+emissary from the seventh planet of 31 Brucker.</p>
+
+<p>The small, monkey-like creature was painfully shy; he
+required constant reassurance that the doctors did not mind
+being called, that they wanted to help, and that a contract
+was not necessary in an emergency. Even at that the spokesman
+was reluctant to give details about the plague and
+about his stricken people. Every bit of information had to
+be extracted with patient questioning.</p>
+
+<p>By tacit consent the doctors did not even mention the
+strange fact that this very planet had been explored by a
+Confederation ship eight hundred years before and no sign
+of intelligent life had been found. The little creature before
+them seemed ready to turn and bolt at the first hint of
+attack or accusation. But bit by bit, a picture of the current
+situation on the planet developed.</p>
+
+<p>Whoever they were and wherever they had been when
+the Confederation ship had landed, there was unquestionably<a name="page108" id="page108"></a>
+an intelligent race now inhabiting this lonely planet
+in the outer reaches of the solar system of 31 Brucker. There
+was no doubt of their advancement; a few well-selected
+questions revealed that they had control of atomic power,
+a working understanding of the nature and properties of
+contra-terrene matter, and a workable star drive operating
+on the same basic principle as Earth's Koenig drive but
+which the Bruckians had never really used because of their
+shyness and fear of contact with other races. They also had
+an excellent understanding, thanks to their eavesdropping
+on Confederation interstellar radio chatter, of the existence
+and functions of the Galactic Confederation of worlds, and
+of Hospital Earth's work as physician to the galaxy.</p>
+
+<p>But about Bruckian anatomy, physiology or biochemistry,
+the little emissary would tell them nothing. He seemed
+genuinely frightened when they pressed him about the
+physical make-up of his people, as though their questions
+were somehow scraping a raw nerve. He insisted that his
+people knew nothing about the nature of the plague that
+had stricken them, and the doctors could not budge him
+an inch from his stand.</p>
+
+<p>But a plague had certainly struck.</p>
+
+<p>It had begun six months before, striking great masses of
+the people. It had walked the streets of the cities and the
+hills and valleys of the countryside. First three out of ten
+had been stricken, then four, then five. The course of the
+disease, once started, was invariably the same: first illness,
+weakness, loss of energy and interest, then gradually a fading
+away of intelligent responses, leaving thousands of creatures
+walking blank-faced and idiot-like about the streets and
+countryside. Ultimately even the ability to take food was
+lost, and after an interval of a week or so, death invariably
+ensued.<a name="page109" id="page109"></a></p>
+
+<p>Finally the doctors retired to the control room for a puzzled
+conference. "It's got to be an organism of some sort
+that's doing it," Dal said. "There couldn't be an illness like
+this that wasn't caused by some kind of a parasitic germ or
+virus."</p>
+
+<p>"But how do we know?" Jack said. "We know nothing
+about these people except what we can see. We're going to
+have to do a complete biochemical and medical survey before
+we can hope to do anything."</p>
+
+<p>"But we aren't equipped for a real survey," Tiger protested.</p>
+
+<p>"We've got to do it anyway," Jack said. "If we can just
+learn enough to be sure it's an infectious illness, we might
+stand a chance of finding a drug that will cure it. Or at least
+a way to immunize the ones that aren't infected yet. If this
+is a virus infection, we might only need to find an antibody
+for inoculation to stop it in its tracks. But first we need a
+good look at the planet and some more of the people&mdash;both
+infected and healthy ones. We'd better make arrangements
+as fast as we can."</p>
+
+<p>An hour later they had reached an agreement with the
+Bruckian emissary. The <i>Lancet</i> would be permitted to land
+on the planet's surface as soon as the doctors were satisfied
+that it was safe. For the time being the initial landings would
+be made in the patrol ship's lifeboats, with the <i>Lancet</i> in
+orbit a thousand miles above the surface. Unquestionably
+the first job was diagnosis, discovering the exact nature of
+the illness and studying the afflicted people. This responsibility
+rested squarely on Jack's shoulders; he was the diagnostician,
+and Dal and Tiger willingly yielded to him in
+organizing the program.</p>
+
+<p>It was decided that Jack and Tiger would visit the planet's
+surface at once, while Dal stayed on the ship and set up the<a name="page110" id="page110"></a>
+reagents and examining techniques that would be needed
+to measure the basic physical and biochemical characteristics
+of the Bruckians.</p>
+
+<p>Yet in all the excitement of planning, Dal could not throw
+off the lingering shadow of doubt in his mind, some instinctive
+voice of caution that seemed to say <i>watch out, be careful,
+go slowly! This may not be what it seems to be; you
+may be walking into a trap....</i></p>
+
+<p>But it was only a faint voice, and easy to thrust aside as
+the planning went ahead full speed.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>It did not take very long for the crew of the <i>Lancet</i> to
+realize that there was something very odd indeed about the
+small, self-effacing inhabitants of 31 Brucker VII.</p>
+
+<p>In fact, "odd" was not really quite the proper word for
+these creatures at all. No one knew better than the doctors
+of Hospital Earth that oddness was the rule among the
+various members of the galactic civilization. All sorts and
+varieties of life-forms had been discovered, described and
+studied, each with its singular differences, each with certain
+similarities, and each quite "odd" in reference to any of the
+others.</p>
+
+<p>In Dal this awareness of the oddness and difference of
+other races was particularly acute. He knew that to Tiger
+and Jack he himself seemed odd, both anatomically and in
+other ways. His fine gray fur and his four-fingered hands
+set him apart from them&mdash;he would never be mistaken for
+an Earthman, even in the densest fog. But these were comprehensible
+differences. His close attachment to Fuzzy was
+something else, and still seemed beyond their ability to
+understand.</p>
+
+<p>He had spent one whole evening patiently trying to make
+Jack understand just how his attachment to the little pink<a name="page111" id="page111"></a>
+creature was more than just the fondness of a man for his dog.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, what would you call it, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Symbiosis is probably the best word for it," Dal had
+replied. "Two life-forms live together, and each one helps
+the other&mdash;that's all symbiosis is. Together each one is better
+off than either one would be alone. We all of us live in
+symbiosis with the bacteria in our digestive tracts, don't we?
+We provide them with a place to live and grow, and they
+help us digest our food. It's a kind of a partnership&mdash;and
+Fuzzy and I are partners in the same sort of way."</p>
+
+<p>Jack had argued, and then lost his temper, and finally
+grudgingly agreed that he supposed he would have to
+tolerate it even if it didn't make sense to him.</p>
+
+<p>But the creatures on 31 Brucker VII were "odd" far beyond
+the reasonable limits of oddness&mdash;so far beyond it that
+the doctors could not believe the things that their eyes and
+their instruments were telling them.</p>
+
+<p>When Tiger and Jack came back to the <i>Lancet</i> after their
+first trip to the planet's surface, they were visibly shaken.
+Geographically, they had found it just as it had been described
+in the exploratory reports&mdash;a barren, desert land with
+only a few large islands of vegetation in the equatorial
+regions.</p>
+
+<p>"But the people!" Jack said. "They don't fit into <i>any</i> kind
+of pattern. They've got houses&mdash;at least I guess you'd call
+them houses&mdash;but every one of them is like every other one,
+and they're all crammed together in tight little bunches, with
+nothing for miles in between. They've got an advanced
+technology, a good communications system, manufacturing
+techniques and everything, but they just don't use them."</p>
+
+<p>"It's more than that," Tiger said. "They don't seem to
+<i>want</i> to use them."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it doesn't add up, to me," Jack said. "There are<a name="page112" id="page112"></a>
+thousands of towns and cities down there, all of them miles
+apart, and yet they had to go dig an old rusty jet scooter out
+of storage and get the motor rebuilt just specially to take us
+from one place to another. I know things can get disorganized
+with a plague in the land, but this plague just hasn't
+been going on that long."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the sickness?" Dal asked. "Is it as bad as it
+sounded?"</p>
+
+<p>"Worse, if anything," Tiger said gloomily. "They're
+dying by the thousands, and I hope we got those suits of
+ours decontaminated, because I don't want any part of this
+disease."</p>
+
+<p>Graphically, he described the conditions they had found
+among the stricken people. There was no question that a
+plague was stalking the land. In the rutted mud roads of
+the villages and towns the dead were piled in gutters, and
+in all of the cities a deathly stillness hung over the streets.
+Those who had not yet succumbed to the illness were nursing
+and feeding the sick ones, but these unaffected ones were
+growing scarcer and scarcer. The whole living population
+seemed resigned to hopelessness, hardly noticing the strangers
+from the patrol ship.</p>
+
+<p>But worst of all were those in the final stages of the
+disease, wandering vaguely about the street, their faces
+blank and their jaws slack as though they were living in a
+silent world of their own, cut off from contact with the rest.
+"One of them almost ran into me," Jack said. "I was right
+in front of him, and he didn't see me or hear me."</p>
+
+<p>"But don't they have <i>any</i> knowledge of antisepsis or isolation?"
+Dal asked.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger shook his head. "Not that we could see. They don't
+know what's causing this sickness. They think that it's some<a name="page113" id="page113"></a>
+kind of curse, and they never dreamed that it might be kept
+from spreading."</p>
+
+<p>Already Tiger and Jack had taken the first routine steps
+to deal with the sickness. They gave orders to move the
+unaffected people in every town and village into isolated
+barracks and stockades. For half a day Tiger tried to explain
+ways to prevent the spread of a bacteria or virus-borne
+disease. The people had stared at him as if he were talking
+gibberish; finally he gave up trying to explain, and just laid
+down rules which the people were instructed to follow.
+Together they had collected standard testing specimens of
+body fluids and tissue from both healthy and afflicted
+Bruckians, and come back to the <i>Lancet</i> for a breather.</p>
+
+<p>Now all three doctors began work on the specimens. Cultures
+were inoculated with specimens from respiratory tract,
+blood and tissue taken from both sick and well. Half a dozen
+fatal cases were brought to the ship under specially controlled
+conditions for autopsy examination, to reveal both the normal
+anatomical characteristics of this strange race of people
+and the damage the disease was doing. Down on the surface
+Tiger had already inoculated a dozen of the healthy ones
+with various radioactive isotopes to help outline the normal
+metabolism and biochemistry of the people. After a short
+sleep period on the <i>Lancet</i>, he went back down alone to
+follow up on these, leaving Dal and Jack to carry on the
+survey work in the ship's lab.</p>
+
+<p>It was a gargantuan task that faced them. They knew that
+in any race of creatures they could not hope to recognize
+the abnormal unless they knew what the normal was. That
+was the sole reason for the extensive biomedical surveys that
+were done on new contract planets. Under normal conditions,
+a survey crew with specialists in physiology, biochemistry,
+anatomy, radiology, pharmacology and pathology<a name="page114" id="page114"></a>
+might spend months or even years on a new planet
+gathering base-line information. But here there was neither
+time nor facilities for such a study. Even in the twenty-four
+hours since the patrol ship arrived, the number of dead had
+increased alarmingly.</p>
+
+<p>Alone on the ship, Dal and Jack found themselves working
+as a well organized team. There was no time here for
+argument or duplicated efforts; everything the two doctors
+did was closely co-ordinated. Jack seemed to have forgotten
+his previous antagonism completely. There was a crisis here,
+and more work than three men could possibly do in the
+time available. "You handle anatomy and pathology," Jack
+told Dal at the beginning. "You can get the picture five
+times as fast as I can, and your pathology slides are better
+than most commercial ones. I can do the best job on the
+cultures, once I get the growth media all set up."</p>
+
+<p>Bit by bit they divided the labor, checking in with Tiger
+by radio on the results of the isotopes studies he was running
+on the planet's surface. Bit by bit the data was collected,
+and Earthman and Garvian worked more closely than ever
+before as the task that faced them appeared more and more
+formidable.</p>
+
+<p>But the results of their tests made no sense whatever.
+Tiger returned to the ship after forty-eight hours with circles
+under his eyes, looking as though he had been trampled in
+a crowd. "No sleep, that's all," he said breathlessly as he
+crawled out of his decontaminated pressure suit. "No time
+for it. I swear I ran those tests a dozen times and I still didn't
+get any answers that made sense."</p>
+
+<p>"The results you were sending up sounded plenty strange,"
+Jack said. "What was the trouble?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Tiger said, "but if we're looking for a<a name="page115" id="page115"></a>
+biological pattern here, we haven't found it yet as far as
+I can see."</p>
+
+<p>"No, we certainly haven't," Dal exploded. "I thought
+I was doing something wrong somehow, because these blood
+chemistries I've been doing have been ridiculous. I can't even
+find a normal level for blood sugar, and as for the enzyme
+systems...." He tossed a sheaf of notes down on the counter
+in disgust. "I don't see how these people could even be
+alive, with a botched-up metabolism like this! I've never
+heard of anything like it."</p>
+
+<p>"What kind of pathology did you find?" Tiger wanted
+to know.</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing," Dal said. "Nothing at all. I did autopsies on
+the six that you brought up here and made slides of every
+different kind of tissue I could find. The anatomy is perfectly
+clear cut, no objections there. These people are very
+similar to Earth-type monkeys in structure, with heart and
+lungs and vocal cords and all. But I can't find any reason
+why they should be dying. Any luck with the cultures?"</p>
+
+<p>Jack shook his head glumly. "No growth on any of the
+plates. At first I thought I had something going, but if I did,
+it died, and I can't find any sign of it in the filtrates."</p>
+
+<p>"But we've got to have <i>something</i> to work on," Tiger
+said desperately. "Look, there are some things that always
+measure out the same in <i>any</i> intelligent creature no matter
+where he comes from. That's the whole basis of galactic
+medicine. Creatures may develop and adapt in different
+ways, but the basic biochemical reactions are the same."</p>
+
+<p>"Not here, they aren't," Dal said. "Take a look at these
+tests!"</p>
+
+<p>They carried the heap of notes they had collected out
+into the control room and began sifting and organizing the
+data, just as a survey team would do, trying to match it with<a name="page116" id="page116"></a>
+the pattern of a thousand other living creatures that had
+previously been studied. Hours passed, and they were farther
+from an answer than when they began.</p>
+
+<p>Because this data did not fit a pattern. It was <i>different</i>.
+No two individuals showed the same reactions. In every test
+the results were either flatly impossible or completely the
+opposite of what was expected.</p>
+
+<p>Carefully they retraced their steps, trying to pinpoint
+what could be going wrong.</p>
+
+<p>"There's <i>got</i> to be a laboratory error," Dal said wearily.
+"We must have slipped up somewhere."</p>
+
+<p>"But I don't see where," Jack said. "Let's see those culture
+tubes again. And put on a pot of coffee. I can't even think
+straight any more."</p>
+
+<p>Of the three of them, Jack was beginning to show the
+strain the most. This was his special field, the place where
+he was supposed to excel, and nothing was happening. Reports
+coming up from the planet were discouraging; the
+isolation techniques they had tried to institute did not seem
+to be working, and the spread of the plague was accelerating.
+The communiqu&eacute;s from the Bruckians were taking on a
+note of desperation.</p>
+
+<p>Jack watched each report with growing apprehension.
+He moved restlessly from lab to control room, checking and
+rechecking things, trying to find some sign of order in the
+chaos.</p>
+
+<p>"Try to get some sleep," Dal urged him. "A couple of
+hours will freshen you up a hundred per cent."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't, I've already tried it," Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"Go ahead. Tiger and I can keep working on these things
+for a while."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, it's not that," Jack said. "Without a diagnosis,
+we can't do a thing. Until we have that, our hands are tied,<a name="page117" id="page117"></a>
+and we aren't even getting close to it. We don't even know
+whether this is a bacteria, or a virus, or what. Maybe the
+Bruckians are right. Maybe it's a curse."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think the Black Service of Pathology would buy
+that for a diagnosis," Tiger said sourly.</p>
+
+<p>"The Black Service would choke on it&mdash;but what other
+answer do we have? You two have been doing all you can,
+but diagnosis is <i>my</i> job. I'm supposed to be good at it, but
+the more we dig into this, the farther away we seem to get."</p>
+
+<p>"Do you want to call for help?" Tiger said.</p>
+
+<p>Jack shook his head helplessly. "I'm beginning to think
+we should have called for help a long time ago," he said.
+"We're into this over our heads now and we're still going
+down. At the rate those people are dying down there, we
+don't have time to call for help now." He stared at the piles
+of notes on the desk and his face was very white. "I don't
+know, I just don't know," he said. "The diagnosis on this
+thing should have been duck soup. I thought it was going
+to be a real feather in my cap, just walking in and nailing it
+down in a few hours. Well, I'm whipped. I don't know
+what to do. If either of you can think of an answer, it's all
+yours, and I'll admit it to Black Doctor Tanner himself."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>It was bitter medicine for Blue Doctor Jack Alvarez to
+swallow, but that fact gave no pleasure to Dal or Tiger now.
+They were as baffled as Jack was, and would have welcomed
+help from anyone who could offer it.</p>
+
+<p>And, ironically, the first glimpse of the truth came from
+the direction they least expected.</p>
+
+<p>From the very beginning Fuzzy had been watching the
+proceedings from his perch on the swinging platform in the
+control room. If he sensed that Dal Timgar was ignoring
+him and leaving him to his own devices much of the time,<a name="page118" id="page118"></a>
+he showed no sign of resentment. The tiny creature seemed
+to realize that something important was consuming his
+master's energy and attention, and contented himself with
+an affectionate pat now and then as Dal went through the
+control room. Everyone assumed without much thought
+that Fuzzy was merely being tolerant of the situation. It was
+not until they had finally given up in desperation and Tiger
+was trying to contact a Hospital Ship for help, that Dal
+stared up at his little pink friend with a puzzled frown.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger put the transmitter down for a moment. "What's
+wrong?" he said to Dal. "You look as though you just bit
+into a rotten apple."</p>
+
+<p>"I just remembered that I haven't fed him for twenty-four
+hours," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"Who? Fuzzy?" Tiger shrugged. "He could see you were
+busy."</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "That wouldn't make any difference
+to Fuzzy. When he gets hungry, he gets hungry, and he's
+pretty self-centered. It wouldn't matter what I was doing,
+he should have been screaming for food hours ago."</p>
+
+<p>Dal walked over to the platform and peered down at his
+pink friend in alarm. He took him up and rested him on his
+shoulder, a move that invariably sent Fuzzy into raptures
+of delight. Now the little creature just sat there, trembling
+and rubbing half-heartedly against Dal's neck.</p>
+
+<p>Dal held him out at arm's length. "Fuzzy, <i>what's the
+matter with you</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>"Do you think something's wrong with him?" Jack said,
+looking up suddenly. "Looks like he's having trouble keeping
+his eyes open."</p>
+
+<p>"His color isn't right, either," Tiger said. "He looks kind
+of blue."</p>
+
+<p>Quite suddenly the little black eyes closed and Fuzzy<a name="page119" id="page119"></a>
+began to tremble violently. He drew himself up into a tight
+pink globule as the fuzz-like hair disappeared from view.</p>
+
+<p>Something was unmistakably wrong. As he held the shivering
+creature, Dal was suddenly aware that something had
+been nibbling at the back of his mind for hours. Not a clear-cut
+thought, merely an impression of pain and anguish and
+sickness, and now as he looked at Fuzzy the impression grew
+so strong it almost made him cry out.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly, Dal knew what he had to do. Where the
+thought came from he didn't know, but it was crystal clear
+in his mind. "Jack, where is our biggest virus filter?" he
+asked quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Jack stared at him. "Virus filter? I just took it out of the
+autoclave an hour ago."</p>
+
+<p>"Get it," Dal said, "and the suction machine too. <i>Quickly!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>Jack went down the corridor like a shot, and reappeared
+a moment later with the big porcelain virus filter and the
+suction tubing attached to it. Swiftly Dal dumped the limp
+little creature in his hand into the top of the filter jar, poured
+in some sterile saline, and started the suction.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger and Jack watched him in amazement. "What are
+you doing?" Tiger said.</p>
+
+<p>"Filtering him," Dal said. "He's infected. He must have
+been exposed to the plague somehow, maybe when our little
+Bruckian visitor came on board the other day. And if it's a
+virus that's causing this plague, the virus filter ought to hold
+it back and still let Fuzzy's molecular structure through."</p>
+
+<p>They watched and sure enough a bluish-pink fluid began
+moving down through the porcelain filter, and dripping
+through the funnel into the beaker below. Each drop
+coalesced in the beaker as it fell until Fuzzy's whole body
+had been sucked through the filter and into the jar below.
+He was still not quite his normal pink color, but as the filter<a name="page120" id="page120"></a>
+went dry, a pair of frightened shoe-button eyes appeared
+and he poked up a pair of ears. Presently the fuzz began
+appearing on his body again.</p>
+
+<p>And on the top of the filter lay a faint gray film. "Don't
+touch it!" Dal said. "That's real poison." He slipped on a
+mask and gloves, and scraped a bit of the film from the filter
+with a spatula. "I think we have it," he said. "The virus
+that's causing the plague on this planet."</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page121" id="page121"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter10" id="chapter10"></a>CHAPTER 10</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BOOMERANG CLUE</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was a virus, beyond doubt. The electron microscope
+told them that, now that they had the substance isolated
+and could examine it. In the culture tubes in the <i>Lancet</i>'s
+incubators, it would begin to grow nicely, and then falter
+and die, but when guinea pigs were inoculated in the ship's
+laboratory, the substance proved its virulence. The animals
+injected with tiny bits of the substance grew sick within
+hours and very quickly died.</p>
+
+<p>The call to the Hospital Ship was canceled as the three
+doctors worked in feverish excitement. Here at last was
+something they could grapple with, something so common
+among the races of the galaxy that the doctors felt certain
+that they could cope with it. Very few, if any, higher life
+forms existed that did not have some sort of submicroscopic
+parasite afflicting them. Bacterial infection was a threat on
+every inhabited world, and the viruses&mdash;the tiniest of all
+submicroscopic organisms&mdash;were the most difficult and dangerous
+of them all.<a name="page122" id="page122"></a></p>
+
+<p>And yet virus plagues had been stopped before, and they
+could be stopped again.</p>
+
+<p>Jack radioed down to the planet's surface that the diagnosis
+had been made; as soon as the proper medications
+could be prepared, the doctors would land to begin treatment.
+There was a new flicker of hopefulness in the Bruckian's
+response, and an appeal to hurry. With renewed energy
+the doctors went back to the lab to start working on the
+new data.</p>
+
+<p>But trouble continued to dog them. This was no ordinary
+virus. It proved resistant to every one of the antibiotics and
+antiviral agents in the <i>Lancet</i>'s stockroom. No drug seemed
+to affect it, and its molecular structure was different from
+any virus that had ever been recorded before.</p>
+
+<p>"If one of the drugs would only just slow it up a little,
+we'd be ahead," Tiger said in perplexity. "We don't have
+anything that even touches it, not even the purified globulins."</p>
+
+<p>"What about antibodies from the infected people?" Jack
+suggested. "In every virus disease I've ever heard of, the
+victim's own body starts making antibodies against the
+invading virus. If enough antibodies are made fast enough,
+the virus dies and the patient is immune from then on."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, these people don't seem to be making any antibodies
+at all," Tiger said. "At least not as far as I can see.
+If they were, at least some of them would be recovering
+from the disease. So far not a single one has recovered once
+the thing started. They all just go ahead and die."</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder," Dal said, "if Fuzzy had any defense."</p>
+
+<p>Jack looked up. "How do you mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, Fuzzy was infected, we know that. He might have
+died too, if we hadn't caught it in time&mdash;but as it worked
+out, he didn't. In fact, he looks pretty healthy right now."<a name="page123" id="page123"></a></p>
+
+<p>"That's fine for Fuzzy," Jack said impatiently, "but I don't
+see how we can push the whole population of 31 Brucker VII
+through a virus filter. They're flesh-and-blood creatures."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not what I mean," Dal said. "Maybe Fuzzy's body
+developed antibodies against the virus while he was infected.
+Remember, he doesn't have a rigid body structure like we do.
+He's mostly just basic protein, and he can synthesize pretty
+much anything he wants to or needs to."</p>
+
+<p>Jack blinked. "It's an idea, at least. Is there any way we
+can get some of his body fluid away from him? Without
+getting bit, I mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"No problem there," Dal said. "He can regenerate pretty
+fast if he has enough of the right kind of food. He won't miss
+an ounce or two of excess tissue."</p>
+
+<p>He took a beaker over to Fuzzy's platform and began
+squeezing off a little blob of pink material. Fuzzy seemed
+to sense what Dal wanted; obligingly he thrust out a little
+pseudopod which Dal pinched off into the beaker. With the
+addition of a small amount of saline solution, the tissue
+dissolved into thin, pink suspension.</p>
+
+<p>In the laboratory they found two or three of the guinea
+pigs in the last stages of the infection, and injected them with
+a tiny bit of the pink solution. The effect was almost unbelievable.
+Within twenty minutes all of the injected animals
+began to perk up, their eyes brighter, nibbling at the food
+in their cages, while the ones that had not been injected
+got sicker and sicker.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, there's our answer," Jack said eagerly. "If we can
+get some of this stuff injected into our friends down below,
+we may be able to protect the healthy ones from getting the
+plague, and cure the sick ones as well. If we still have enough
+time, that is."<a name="page124" id="page124"></a></p>
+
+<p>They had landing permission from the Bruckian spokesman
+within minutes, and an hour later the <i>Lancet</i> made an
+orderly landing on a newly-repaved landing field near one
+of the central cities on the seventh planet of 31 Brucker.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger and Jack had obviously not exaggerated the strange
+appearance of the towns and cities on this plague-ridden
+planet, and Dal was appalled at the ravages of the disease
+that they had come to fight. Only one out of ten of the
+Bruckians was still uninfected, and another three out of the
+ten were clearly in the late stages of the disease, walking
+about blankly and blindly, stumbling into things in their
+paths, falling to the ground and lying mute and helpless
+until death came to release them. Under the glaring red sun,
+weary parties of stretcher bearers went about the silent
+streets, moving their grim cargo out to the mass graves at
+the edge of the city.</p>
+
+<p>The original spokesman who had come up to the <i>Lancet</i>
+was dead, but another had taken his place as negotiator with
+the doctors&mdash;an older, thinner Bruckian who looked as if he
+carried the total burden of his people on his shoulders. He
+greeted them eagerly at the landing field. "You have found
+a solution!" he cried. "You have found a way to turn the
+tide&mdash;but hurry! Every moment now is precious."</p>
+
+<p>During the landing procedures, Dal had worked to prepare
+enough of the precious antibody suspension, with
+Fuzzy's co-operation, to handle a large number of inoculations.
+By the time the ship touched down he had a dozen
+flasks and several hundred syringes ready. Hundreds of the
+unafflicted people were crowding around the ship, staring in
+open wonder as Dal, Jack and Tiger came down the ladder
+and went into close conference with the spokesman.</p>
+
+<p>It took some time to explain to the spokesman why they
+could not begin then and there with the mass inoculations<a name="page125" id="page125"></a>
+against the plague. First, they needed test cases, in order to
+make certain that what they thought would work in theory
+actually produced the desired results. Controls were needed,
+to be certain that the antibody suspension alone was bringing
+about the changes seen and not something else. At last, orders
+went out from the spokesman. Two hundred uninfected
+Bruckians were admitted to a large roped-off area near the
+ship, and another two hundred in late stages of the disease
+were led stumbling into another closed area. Preliminary
+skin-tests of the antibody suspension showed no sign of
+untoward reaction. Dal began filling syringes while Tiger
+and Jack started inoculating the two groups.</p>
+
+<p>"If it works with these cases, it will be simple to immunize
+the whole population," Tiger said. "From the amounts
+we used on the guinea pigs, it looks as if only tiny amounts
+are needed. We may even be able to train the Bruckians to
+give the injections themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"And if it works we ought to have a brand new medical
+service contract ready for signature with Hospital Earth,"
+Jack added eagerly. "It won't be long before we have those
+Stars, you wait and see! If we can only get this done fast
+enough."</p>
+
+<p>They worked feverishly, particularly with the group of
+terminal cases. Many were dying even as the shots were
+being given, while the first symptoms of the disease were
+appearing in some of the unafflicted ones. Swiftly Tiger and
+Jack went from patient to patient while Dal kept check of
+the names, numbers and locations of those that were inoculated.</p>
+
+<p>And even before they were finished with the inoculations,
+it was apparent that they were taking effect. Not one of the
+infected patients died after inoculation was completed. The
+series took three hours, and by the time the four hundred<a name="page126" id="page126"></a>
+doses were administered, one thing seemed certain: that the
+antibody was checking the deadly march of the disease in
+some way.</p>
+
+<p>The Bruckian spokesman was so excited he could hardly
+contain himself; he wanted to start bringing in the rest of
+the population at once. "We've almost exhausted this first
+batch of the material," Dal told him. "We will have to prepare
+more&mdash;but we will waste time trying to move a whole
+planet's population here. Get a dozen aircraft ready, and a
+dozen healthy, intelligent workers to help us. We can show
+them how to use the material, and let them go out to the
+other population centers all at once."</p>
+
+<p>Back aboard the ship they started preparing a larger quantity
+of the antibody suspension. Fuzzy had regenerated back
+to normal weight again, and much to Dal's delight had been
+splitting off small segments of pink protoplasm in a circle
+all around him, as though anticipating further demands on
+his resources. A quick test-run showed that the antibody was
+also being regenerated. Fuzzy was voraciously hungry, but
+the material in the second batch was still as powerful as in
+the first.</p>
+
+<p>The doctors were almost ready to go back down, loaded
+with enough inoculum and syringes to equip themselves and
+a dozen field workers when Jack suddenly stopped what he
+was doing and cocked an ear toward the entrance lock.</p>
+
+<p>"What's wrong?" Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"Listen a minute."</p>
+
+<p>They stopped to listen. "I don't hear anything," Tiger
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Jack nodded. "I know. That's what I mean. They were
+hollering their heads off when we came back aboard. Why
+so quiet now?"</p>
+
+<p>He crossed over to the viewscreen scanning the field<a name="page127" id="page127"></a>
+below, and flipped on the switch. For a moment he just
+stared. Then he said: "Come here a minute. I don't like the
+looks of this at all."</p>
+
+<p>Dal and Tiger crowded up to the screen. "What's the
+matter?" Tiger said. "I don't see ... <i>wait a minute!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you'd better look again," Jack said. "What do you
+think, Dal?"</p>
+
+<p>"We'd better get down there fast," Dal said, "and see
+what's going on. It looks to me like we've got a tiger by
+the tail...."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>They climbed down the ladder once again, with the antibody
+flasks and sterile syringes strapped to their backs. But
+this time the greeting was different from before.</p>
+
+<p>The Bruckian spokesman and the others who had not yet
+been inoculated drew back from them in terror as they
+stepped to the ground. Before, the people on the field had
+crowded in eagerly around the ship; now they were standing
+in silent groups staring at the doctors fearfully and muttering
+among themselves.</p>
+
+<p>But the doctors could see only the inoculated people in
+the two roped-off areas. Off to the right among the infected
+Bruckians who had received the antibody there were no
+new dead&mdash;but there was no change for the better, either.
+The sick creatures drifted about aimlessly, milling like animals
+in a cage, their faces blank, their jaws slack, hands
+wandering foolishly. Not one of them had begun reacting
+normally, not one showed any sign of recognition or recovery.</p>
+
+<p>But the real horror was on the other side of the field.
+Here were the healthy ones, the uninfected ones who had
+received preventative inoculations. A few hours before they<a name="page128" id="page128"></a>
+had been left standing in quiet, happy groups, talking among
+themselves, laughing and joking....</p>
+
+<p>But now they weren't talking any more. They stared
+across at the doctors with slack faces and dazed eyes, their
+feet shuffling aimlessly in the dust. All were alive, but only
+half-alive. The intelligence and alertness were gone from
+their faces; they were like the empty shells of the creatures
+they had been a few hours before, indistinguishable from
+the infected creatures in the other compound.</p>
+
+<p>Jack turned to the Bruckian spokesman in alarm. "What's
+happened here?" he asked. "What's become of the ones we
+inoculated? Where have you taken them?"</p>
+
+<p>The spokesman shrank back as though afraid Jack might
+reach out to touch him. "Taken them!" he cried. "We have
+moved none of them! Those are the ones you poisoned with
+your needles. What have you done to make them like this?"</p>
+
+<p>"It&mdash;it must be some sort of temporary reaction to the
+injection," Jack faltered. "There was nothing that we used
+that could possibly have given them the disease, we only
+used a substance to help them fight it off."</p>
+
+<p>The Bruckian was shaking his fist angrily. "It's no reaction,
+it is the plague itself! What kind of evil are you
+doing? You came here to help us, and instead you bring us
+more misery. Do we not have enough of that to please you?"</p>
+
+<p>Swiftly the doctors began examining the patients in both
+enclosures, and on each side they found the same picture.
+One by one they checked the ones that had previously been
+untouched by the plague, and found only the sagging jaws
+and idiot stares.</p>
+
+<p>"There's no sense examining every one," Tiger said
+finally. "They're all the same, every one."</p>
+
+<p>"But this is impossible," Jack said, glancing apprehensively
+at the growing mob of angry Bruckians outside the<a name="page129" id="page129"></a>
+stockades. "What could have happened? What have we
+done?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know," Tiger said. "But whatever we've done
+has turned into a boomerang. We knew that the antibody
+might not work, and the disease might just go right ahead,
+but we didn't anticipate anything like this."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe some foreign protein got into the batch," Dal
+said.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger shook his head. "It wouldn't behave like <i>this</i>. And
+we were careful getting it ready. All we've done was inject
+an antibody against a specific virus. All it could have done
+was to kill the virus, but these people act as though they're
+infected now."</p>
+
+<p>"But they're not dying," Dal said. "And the sick ones
+we injected stopped dying, too."</p>
+
+<p>"So what do we do now?" Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"Get one of these that changed like this aboard ship and
+go over him with a fine-toothed comb. We've got to find
+out what's happened."</p>
+
+<p>He led one of the stricken Bruckians by the hand like a
+mindless dummy across the field toward the little group
+where the spokesman and his party stood. The crowd on the
+field were moving in closer; an angry cry went up when
+Dal touched the sick creature.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have to keep this crowd under control," Dal said
+to the spokesman. "We're going to take this one aboard the
+ship and examine him to see what this reaction could be,
+but this mob is beginning to sound dangerous."</p>
+
+<p>"They're afraid," the spokesman said. "They want to
+know what you've done to them, what this new curse is that
+you bring in your syringes."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not a curse, but something has gone wrong. We
+need to learn what, in order to deal with it."<a name="page130" id="page130"></a></p>
+
+<p>"The people are afraid and angry," the spokesman said.
+"I don't know how long I can control them."</p>
+
+<p>And indeed, the attitude of the crowd around the ship
+was very strange. They were not just fearful; they were
+terrified. As the doctors walked back to the ship leading the
+stricken Bruckian behind them, the people shrank back with
+dreadful cries, holding up their hands as if to ward off
+some monstrous evil. Before, in the worst throes of the
+plague, there had been no sign of this kind of reaction. The
+people had seemed apathetic and miserable, resigned hopelessly
+to their fate, but now they were reacting in abject
+terror. It almost seemed that they were more afraid of these
+walking shells of their former selves than they were of the
+disease itself.</p>
+
+<p>But as the doctors started up the ladder toward the entrance
+lock the crowd surged in toward them with fists
+raised in anger. "We'd better get help, and fast," Jack said
+as he slammed the entrance lock closed behind them. "I don't
+like the looks of this a bit. Dal, we'd better see what we can
+learn from this poor creature here."</p>
+
+<p>As Tiger headed for the earphones, Dal and Jack went to
+work once again, checking the blood and other body fluids
+from the stricken Bruckian. But now, incredibly, the results
+of their tests were quite different from those they had obtained
+before. The blood sugar and protein determinations
+fell into the pattern they had originally expected for a
+creature of this type. Even more surprising, the level of the
+antibody against the plague virus was high&mdash;far higher than
+it could have been from the tiny amount that was injected
+into the creature.</p>
+
+<p>"They must have been making it themselves," Dal said,
+"and our inoculation was just the straw that broke the
+camel's back. All of those people must have been on the<a name="page131" id="page131"></a>
+brink of symptoms of the infection, and all we did was add
+to the natural defenses they were already making."</p>
+
+<p>"Then why did the symptoms appear?" Jack said. "If
+that's true, we should have been <i>helping</i> them, and look at
+them now!"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger appeared at the door, scowling. "We've got real
+trouble, now," he said. "I can't get through to a hospital
+ship. In fact, I can't get a message out at all. These people
+are jamming our radios."</p>
+
+<p>"But why?" Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, but take a look outside there."</p>
+
+<p>Through the viewscreen it seemed as though the whole
+field around the ship had filled up with the crowd. The
+first reaction of terror now seemed to have given way to
+blind fury; the people were shouting angrily, waving their
+clenched fists at the ship as the spokesman tried to hold them
+back.</p>
+
+<p>Then there was a resounding crash from somewhere below,
+and the ship lurched, throwing the doctors to the floor.
+They staggered to their feet as another blow jolted the ship,
+and another.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's get a screen up," Tiger shouted. "Jack, get the
+engines going. They're trying to board us, and I don't think
+it'll be much fun if they ever break in."</p>
+
+<p>In the control room they threw the switches that activated
+a powerful protective energy screen around the ship. It was
+a device that was carried by all GPP Ships as a means of protection
+against physical attack. When activated, an energy
+screen was virtually impregnable, but it could only be used
+briefly; the power it required placed an enormous drain on
+a ship's energy resources, and a year's nuclear fuel could be
+consumed in a few hours.</p>
+
+<p>Now the screen served its purpose. The ship steadied, still<a name="page132" id="page132"></a>
+vibrating from the last assault, and the noise from below
+ceased abruptly. But when Jack threw the switches to start
+the engines, nothing happened at all.</p>
+
+<p>"Look at that!" he cried, staring at the motionless dials.
+"They're jamming our electrical system somehow. I can't
+get any turn-over."</p>
+
+<p>"Try it again," Tiger said. "We've got to get out of here.
+If they break in, we're done for."</p>
+
+<p>"They can't break through the screen," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>"Not as long as it lasts. But we can't keep it up indefinitely."</p>
+
+<p>Once again they tried the radio equipment. There was no
+response but the harsh static of the jamming signal from
+the ground below. "It's no good," Tiger said finally. "We're
+stuck here, and we can't even call for help. You'd think if
+they were so scared of us they'd be glad to see us go."</p>
+
+<p>"I think there's more to it than that," Dal said thoughtfully.
+"This whole business has been crazy from the start.
+This just fits in with all the rest." He picked Fuzzy off his
+perch and set him on his shoulder as if to protect him from
+some unsuspected threat. "Maybe they're afraid of us, I don't
+know. But I think they're afraid of something else a whole
+lot worse."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>There was nothing to be done but wait and stare hopelessly
+at the mass of notes and records that they had collected
+on the people of 31 Brucker VII and the plague that afflicted
+them.</p>
+
+<p>Until now, the <i>Lancet</i>'s crew had been too busy to stop
+and piece the data together, to try to see the picture as a
+whole. But now there was ample time, and the realization
+of what had been happening here began to dawn on them.</p>
+
+<p>They had followed the well-established principles step by<a name="page133" id="page133"></a>
+step in studying these incredible people, and nothing had
+come out as it should. In theory, the steps they had taken
+should have yielded the answer. They had come to a planet
+where an entire population was threatened with a dreadful
+disease. They had identified the disease, found and isolated
+the virus that caused it, and then developed an antibody
+that effectively destroyed the virus&mdash;in the laboratory. But
+when they had tried to apply the antibody in the afflicted
+patients, the response had been totally unexpected. They had
+stopped the march of death among those they had inoculated,
+and had produced instead a condition that the people
+seemed to dread far more than death.</p>
+
+<p>"Let's face it," Dal said, "we bungled it somehow. We
+should have had help here right from the start. I don't know
+where we went wrong, but we've done something."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it wasn't your fault," Jack said gloomily. "If we
+had the right diagnosis, this wouldn't have happened. And
+I <i>still</i> can't see the diagnosis. All I've been able to come up
+with is a nice mess."</p>
+
+<p>"We're missing something, that's all," Dal said. "The
+information is all here. We just aren't reading it right, somehow.
+Somewhere in here is a key to the whole thing, and
+we just can't see it."</p>
+
+<p>They went back to the data again, going through it step
+by step. This was Jack Alvarez's specialty&mdash;the technique of
+diagnosis, the ability to take all the available information
+about a race and about its illness and piece it together into
+a pattern that made sense. Dal could see that Jack was now
+bitterly angry with himself, yet at every turn he seemed to
+strike another obstacle&mdash;some fact that didn't jibe, a missing
+fragment here, a wrong answer there. With Dal and Tiger
+helping he started back over the sequence of events, trying<a name="page134" id="page134"></a>
+to make sense out of them, and came up squarely against
+a blank wall.</p>
+
+<p>The things they had done should have worked; instead,
+they had failed. A specific antibody used against a specific
+virus should have destroyed the virus or slowed its progress,
+and there seemed to be no rational explanation for the dreadful
+response of the uninfected ones who had been inoculated
+for protection.</p>
+
+<p>And as the doctors sifted through the data, the Bruckian
+they had brought up from the enclosure sat staring off into
+space, making small noises with his mouth and moving his
+arms aimlessly. After a while they led him back to a bunk,
+gave him a medicine for sleep and left him snoring gently.
+Another hour passed as they pored over their notes, with
+Tiger stopping from time to time to mop perspiration from
+his forehead. All three were aware of the moving clock
+hands, marking off the minutes that the force screen could
+hold out.</p>
+
+<p>And then Dal Timgar was digging into the pile of papers,
+searching frantically for something he could not find. "That
+first report we got," he said hoarsely. "There was something
+in the very first information we ever saw on this planet...."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean the Confederation's data? It's in the radio
+log." Tiger pulled open the thick log book. "But what...."</p>
+
+<p>"It's there, plain as day, I'm sure of it," Dal said. He read
+through the report swiftly, until he came to the last paragraph&mdash;a
+two-line description of the largest creatures the
+original Exploration Ship had found on the planet, described
+by them as totally unintelligent and only observed on a few
+occasions in the course of the exploration. Dal read it, and
+his hands were trembling as he handed the report to Jack.
+"I knew the answer was there!" he said. "Take a look at that
+again and think about it for a minute."<a name="page135" id="page135"></a></p>
+
+<p>Jack read it through. "I don't see what you mean," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I mean that I think we've made a horrible mistake," Dal
+said, "and I think I see now what it was. We've had this
+whole thing exactly 100 per cent backward from the start,
+and that explains everything that's happened here!"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger peered over Jack's shoulder at the report. "Backward?"</p>
+
+<p>"As backward as we could get it," Dal said. "We've
+assumed all along that these flesh-and-blood creatures down
+there were the ones that were calling us for help because of
+a virus plague that was attacking and killing them. All right,
+look at it the other way. Just suppose that the intelligent
+creature that called us for help was the <i>virus</i>, and that those
+flesh-and-blood creatures down there with the blank, stupid
+faces are the <i>real</i> plague we ought to have been fighting all
+along!"</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page136" id="page136"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter11" id="chapter11"></a>CHAPTER 11</h2>
+
+<h3>DAL BREAKS A PROMISE</h3>
+
+
+<p>For a moment the others just stared at their Garvian
+crewmate. Then Jack Alvarez snorted. "You'd better go
+back and get some rest," he said. "This has been a tougher
+grind than I thought. You're beginning to show the strain."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I mean it," Dal said earnestly. "I think that is exactly
+what's been happening."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger looked at him with concern. "Dal, this is no time
+for double talk and nonsense."</p>
+
+<p>"It's not nonsense," Dal said. "It's the answer, if you'll
+only stop and think."</p>
+
+<p>"An intelligent <i>virus</i>?" Jack said. "Who ever heard of
+such a thing? There's never been a life-form like that reported
+since the beginning of the galactic exploration."</p>
+
+<p>"But that doesn't mean there couldn't be one," Dal said.
+"And how would an exploratory crew ever identify it, if it
+existed? How would they ever even suspect it? They'd miss
+it completely&mdash;unless it happened to get into trouble itself
+and try to call for help!" Dal jumped up in excitement.<a name="page137" id="page137"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Look, I've seen a dozen articles showing how such a thing
+was theoretically possible ... a virus life-form with billions
+of submicroscopic parts acting together to form an intelligent
+colony. The only thing a virus-creature would need
+that other intelligent creatures don't need would be some
+kind of a host, some sort of animal body to live in so that
+it could use its intelligence."</p>
+
+<p>"It's impossible," Jack said scornfully. "Why don't you
+give it up and get some rest? Here we sit with our feet in
+the fire, and all you can do is dream up foolishness like this."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not so sure it's foolishness," Tiger Martin said
+slowly. "Jack, maybe he's got something. A couple of things
+would fit that don't make sense at all."</p>
+
+<p>"All sorts of things would fit," Dal said. "The viruses we
+know have to have a host&mdash;some other life-form to live in.
+Usually they are parasites, damaging or destroying their
+hosts and giving nothing in return, but some set up real
+partnership housekeeping with their hosts so that both are
+better off."</p>
+
+<p>"You mean a symbiotic relationship," Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course," Dal said. "Now suppose these virus-creatures
+were intelligent, and came from some other place looking
+for a new host they could live with. They wouldn't look
+for an intelligent creature, they would look for some <i>unintelligent</i>
+creature with a good strong body that would be
+capable of doing all sorts of things if it only had an intelligence
+to guide it. Suppose these virus-creatures found a
+simple-minded, unintelligent race on this planet and tried to
+set up a symbiotic relationship with it. The virus-creatures
+would need a host to provide a home and a food supply.
+Maybe they in turn could supply the intelligence to raise the
+host to a civilized level of life and performance. Wouldn't
+that be a fair basis for a sound partnership?"<a name="page138" id="page138"></a></p>
+
+<p>Jack scratched his head doubtfully. "And you're saying
+that these virus-creatures came here after the exploratory
+ship had come and gone?"</p>
+
+<p>"They must have! Maybe they only came a few years
+ago, maybe only months ago. But when they tried to invade
+the unintelligent creatures the exploratory ship found here,
+they discovered that the new host's body couldn't tolerate
+them. His body reacted as if they were parasitic invaders,
+and built up antibodies against them. And those body defenses
+were more than the virus could cope with."</p>
+
+<p>Dal pointed to the piles of notes on the desk. "Don't you
+see how it adds up? Right from the beginning we've been
+assuming that these monkey-like creatures here on this planet
+were the dominant, intelligent life-forms. Anatomically they
+were ordinary cellular creatures like you and me, and when
+we examined them we expected to find the same sort of
+biochemical reactions we'd find with any such creatures.
+And all our results came out wrong, because we were dealing
+with a combination of two creatures&mdash;the host and a virus.
+Maybe the creatures on 31 Brucker VII were naturally
+blank-faced idiots before the virus came, or maybe the virus
+was forced to damage some vital part just in order to fight
+back&mdash;but it was the <i>virus</i> that was being killed by its own
+host, not the other way around."</p>
+
+<p>Jack studied the idea, no longer scornful. "So you think
+the virus-creatures called for help, hoping we could find
+some way to free them from the hosts that were killing
+them. And when Fuzzy developed a powerful antibody
+against them, and we started using the stuff&mdash;" Jack broke
+off, shaking his head in horror. "Dal, if you're right, we
+were literally <i>slaughtering our own patients</i> when we gave
+those injections down there!"</p>
+
+<p>"Exactly," Dal said. "Is it any wonder they're so scared<a name="page139" id="page139"></a>
+of us now? It must have looked like a deliberate attempt
+to wipe them out, and now they're afraid that we'll go get
+help and <i>really</i> move in against them."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger nodded. "Which was precisely what we were planning,
+if you stop to think about it. Maybe that was why
+they were so reluctant to tell us anything about themselves.
+Maybe they've already been mistaken for parasitic invaders
+before, wherever in the universe they came from."</p>
+
+<p>"But if this is true, then we're really in a jam," Jack said.
+"What can we possibly do for them? We can't even repair
+the damage that we've already done. What sort of treatment
+can we use?"</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "I don't know the answer to that one,
+but I do know we've got to find out if we're right. An intelligent
+virus-creature has as much right to life as any other
+intelligent life-form. If we've guessed right, then there's a
+lot that our intelligent friends down there haven't told us.
+Maybe there'll be some clue there. We've just got to face
+them with it, and see what they say."</p>
+
+<p>Jack looked at the viewscreen, at the angry mob milling
+around on the ground, held back from the ship by the energy
+screen. "You mean just go out there and say, 'Look fellows,
+it was all a mistake, we didn't really mean to do it?'" He
+shook his head. "Maybe you want to tell them. Not me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Dal's right, though," Tiger said. "We've got to contact
+them somehow. They aren't even responding to radio communication,
+and they've scrambled our outside radio and
+fouled our drive mechanism somehow. We've got to settle
+this while we still have an energy screen."</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence as the three doctors looked at
+each other. Then Dal stood up and walked over to the
+swinging platform. He lifted Fuzzy down onto his shoulder.<a name="page140" id="page140"></a>
+"It'll be all right," he said to Jack and Tiger. "I'll go out."</p>
+
+<p>"They'll tear you to ribbons!" Tiger protested.</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "I don't think so," he said quietly.
+"I don't think they'll touch me. They'll greet me with open
+arms when I go down there, and they'll be eager to talk
+to me."</p>
+
+<p>"Are you crazy?" Jack cried, leaping to his feet. "We
+can't let you go out there."</p>
+
+<p>"Don't worry," Dal said. "I know exactly what I'm doing.
+I'll be able to handle the situation, believe me."</p>
+
+<p>He hesitated a moment, and gave Fuzzy a last nervous pat,
+settling him more firmly on his shoulder. Then he started
+down the corridor for the entrance lock.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>He had promised himself long before ... many years before
+... that he would never do what he planned to do now,
+but now he knew that there was no alternative. The only
+other choice was to wait helplessly until the power failed
+and the protective screen vanished and the creatures on the
+ground outside tore the ship to pieces.</p>
+
+<p>As he stood in the airlock waiting for the pressure to shift
+to outside normal, he lifted Fuzzy down into the crook of
+his arm and rubbed the little creature between the shoe-button
+eyes. "You've got to back me up now," he whispered
+softly. "It's been a long time, I know that, but I need help
+now. It's going to be up to you."</p>
+
+<p>Dal knew the subtle strength of his people's peculiar
+talent. From the moment he had stepped down to the ground
+the second time with Tiger and Jack, even with Fuzzy waiting
+back on the ship, he had felt the powerful wave of
+horror and fear and anger rising up from the Bruckians,
+and he had glimpsed the awful idiot vacancy of the minds
+of the creatures in the enclosure, in whom the intelligent<a name="page141" id="page141"></a>
+virus was already dead. This had required no effort; it just
+came naturally into his mind, and he had known instantly
+that something terrible had gone wrong.</p>
+
+<p>In the years on Hospital Earth, he had carefully forced
+himself never to think in terms of his special talent. He had
+diligently screened off the impressions and emotions that
+struck at him constantly from his classmates and from others
+that he came in contact with. Above all, he had fought down
+the temptation to turn his power the other way, to use it
+to his own advantage.</p>
+
+<p>But now, as the lock opened and he started down the
+ladder, he closed his mind to everything else. Hugging
+Fuzzy close to his side, he turned his mind into a single tight
+channel. He drove the thought out at the Bruckians with all
+the power he could muster: <i>I come in peace. I mean you no
+harm. I have good news, joyful news. You must be happy
+to see me, eager to welcome me....</i></p>
+
+<p>He could feel the wave of anger and fear strike him like
+a physical blow as soon as he appeared in the entrance lock.
+The cries rose up in a wave, and the crowd surged in toward
+the ship. With the energy field released, there was nothing
+to stop them; they were tripping over each other to reach
+the bottom of the ladder first, shouting threats and waving
+angry fists, reaching up to grab at Dal's ankles as he came
+down....</p>
+
+<p>And then as if by magic the cries died in the throats of the
+ones closest to the ladder. The angry fists unclenched, and
+extended into outstretched hands to help him down to the
+ground. As though an ever-widening wave was spreading
+out around him, the aura of peace and good will struck the
+people in the crowd. And as it spread, the anger faded from
+the faces; the hard lines gave way to puzzled frowns, then
+to smiles. Dal channeled his thoughts more rigidly, and<a name="page142" id="page142"></a>
+watched the effect spread out from him like ripples in a
+pond, as anger and suspicion and fear melted away to be
+replaced by confidence and trust.</p>
+
+<p>Dal had seen it occur a thousand times before. He could
+remember his trips on Garvian trading ships with his father,
+when the traders with their fuzzy pink friends on their
+shoulders faced cold, hostile, suspicious buyers. It had seemed
+almost miraculous the way the suspicions melted away and
+the hostile faces became friendly as the buyers' minds became
+receptive to bargaining and trading. He had even seen
+it happen on the <i>Teegar</i> with Tiger and Jack, and it was no
+coincidence that throughout the galaxy the Garvians&mdash;always
+accompanied by their fuzzy friends&mdash;had assumed the position
+of power and wealth and leadership that they had.</p>
+
+<p>And now once again the pattern was being repeated. The
+Bruckians who surrounded Dal were smiling and talking
+eagerly; they made no move to touch him or harm him.</p>
+
+<p>The spokesman they had talked to before was there at his
+elbow, and Dal heard himself saying, "We have found the
+answer to your problem. We know now the true nature of
+your race, and the nature of your intelligence. You were
+afraid that we would find out, but your fears were groundless.
+We will not turn our knowledge against you. We only
+want to help you."</p>
+
+<p>An expression almost like despair had crossed the spokesman's
+face as Dal spoke. Now he said, "It would be good&mdash;if
+we could believe you. But how can we? We have been
+driven for so long and come so far, and now you would
+seek to wipe us out as parasites and disease-carriers."</p>
+
+<p>Dal saw the Bruckian creature's eyes upon him, saw the
+frail body tremble and the lips move, but he knew now that
+the intelligence that formed the words and the thoughts
+behind them, the intelligence that made the lips speak the<a name="page143" id="page143"></a>
+words, was the intelligence of a creature far different from
+the one he was looking at&mdash;a creature formed of billions of
+submicroscopic units, imbedded in every one of the Bruckian's
+body cells, trapped there now and helpless against the
+antibody reaction that sought to destroy them. This was
+the intelligence that had called for help in its desperate
+plight, but had not quite dared to trust its rescuers with the
+whole truth.</p>
+
+<p>But was this strange virus-creature good or evil, hostile
+or friendly? Dal's hand lay on Fuzzy's tiny body, but he
+felt no quiver, no vibration of fear. He looked across the
+face of the crowd, trying with all his strength to open his
+mind to the feelings and emotions of these people. Often
+enough, with Fuzzy nearby, he had felt the harsh impact of
+hostile, cruel, brutal minds, even when the owners of those
+minds had tried to conceal their feelings behind smiles and
+pleasant words. But here there was no sign of the sickening
+feeling that kind of mind produced, no hint of hostility
+or evil.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head. "Why should we want to destroy
+you?" he said. "You are good, and peaceful. We know that;
+why should we harm you? All you want is a place to live,
+and a host to join with you in a mutually valuable partnership.
+But you did not tell us everything you could about
+yourselves, and as a result we have destroyed some of you
+in our clumsy attempts to learn your true nature."</p>
+
+<p>They talked then, and bit by bit the story came out. The
+life-form was indeed a virus, unimaginably ancient, and
+intelligent throughout millions of years of its history. Driven
+by over-population, a pure culture of the virus-creatures
+had long ago departed from their original native hosts, and
+traveled like encapsulated spores across space from a distant
+galaxy. The trip had been long and exhausting; the virus-creatures<a name="page144" id="page144"></a>
+had retained only the minimum strength necessary
+to establish themselves in a new host, some unintelligent
+creature living on an uninhabited planet, a creature that
+could benefit by the great intelligence of the virus-creatures,
+and provide food and shelter for both. Finally, after thousands
+of years of searching, they had found this planet with
+its dull-minded, fruit-gathering inhabitants. These creatures
+had seemed perfect as hosts, and the virus-creatures had
+thought their long search for a perfect partner was finally
+at an end.</p>
+
+<p>It was not until they had expended the last dregs of their
+energy in anchoring themselves into the cells and tissues of
+their new hosts that they discovered to their horror that the
+host-creatures could not tolerate them. Unlike their original
+hosts, the bodies of these creatures began developing deadly
+antibodies that attacked the virus invaders. In their desperate
+attempts to hold on and fight back, the virus-creatures had
+destroyed vital centers in the new hosts, and one by one they
+had begun to die. There was not enough energy left for the
+virus-creatures to detach themselves and move on; without
+some way to stem the onslaught of the antibodies, they were
+doomed to total destruction.</p>
+
+<p>"We were afraid to tell you doctors the truth," the spokesman
+said. "As we wandered and searched we discovered
+that creatures like ourselves were extreme rarities in the
+universe, that most creatures similar to us were mindless,
+unintelligent parasites that struck down their hosts and destroyed
+them. Wherever we went, life-forms of your kind
+regarded us as disease-bearers, and their doctors taught them
+ways to destroy us. We had hoped that from you we might
+find a way to save ourselves&mdash;then you unleashed on us the
+one weapon we could not fight."</p>
+
+<p>"But not maliciously," Dal said. "Only because we did not<a name="page145" id="page145"></a>
+understand. And now that we do, there may be a way to
+help. A difficult way, but at least a way. The antibodies
+themselves can be neutralized, but it may take our biochemists
+and virologists and all their equipment months or
+even years to develop and synthesize the proper antidote."</p>
+
+<p>The spokesman looked at Dal, and turned away with a
+hopeless gesture. "Then it is too late, after all," he said. "We
+are dying too fast. Even those of us who have not been
+affected so far are beginning to feel the early symptoms of
+the antibody attack." He smiled sadly and reached out to
+stroke the small pink creature on Dal's arm. "Your people
+too have a partner, I see. We envy you."</p>
+
+<p>Dal felt a movement on his arm and looked down at
+Fuzzy. He had always taken his little friend for granted, but
+now he thought of the feeling of emptiness and loss that had
+come across him when Fuzzy had been almost killed. He
+had often wondered just what Fuzzy might be like if his
+almost-fluid, infinitely adaptable physical body had only
+been endowed with intelligence. He had wondered what
+kind of a creature Fuzzy might be if he were able to use his
+remarkable structure with the guidance of an intelligent
+mind behind it....</p>
+
+<p>He felt another movement on his arm, and his eyes widened
+as he stared down at his little friend.</p>
+
+<p>A moment before, there had been a single three-inch pink
+creature on his elbow. But now there were two, each just
+one-half the size of the original. As Dal watched, one of the
+two drew away from the other, creeping in to snuggle closer
+to Dal's side, and a pair of shoe-button eyes appeared and
+blinked up at him trustingly. But the other creature was
+moving down his arm, straining out toward the Bruckian
+spokesman....</p>
+
+<p>Dal realized instantly what was happening. He started<a name="page146" id="page146"></a>
+to draw back, but something stopped him. Deep in his mind
+he could sense a gentle voice reassuring him, saying, <i>It's all
+right, there is nothing to fear, no harm will come to me.
+These creatures need help, and this is the way to help them.</i></p>
+
+<p>He saw the Bruckian reach out a trembling hand. The
+tiny pink creature that had separated from Fuzzy seemed
+almost to leap across to the outstretched hand. And then the
+spokesman held him close, and the new Fuzzy shivered
+happily.</p>
+
+<p>The virus-creatures had found a host. Here was the ideal
+kind of body for their intelligence to work with and mold,
+a host where antibody-formation could be perfectly controlled.
+Dal knew now that the problem had almost been
+solved once before, when the virus-creature had reached
+Fuzzy on the ship; if they had only waited a little longer
+they would have seen Fuzzy recover from his illness a different
+creature entirely than before.</p>
+
+<p>Already the new creature was dividing again, with half
+going on to the next of the Bruckians. To a submicroscopic
+virus, the body of the host would not have to be large; soon
+there would be a sufficient number of hosts to serve the
+virus-creatures' needs forever. As he started back up the
+ladder to the ship, Dal knew that the problem on 31 Brucker
+VII had found a happy and permanent solution.</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>Back in the control room Dal related what had happened
+from beginning to end. There was only one detail that he
+concealed. He could not bring himself to tell Tiger and
+Jack of the true nature of his relationship with Fuzzy, of
+the odd power over the emotions of others that Fuzzy's
+presence gave him. He could tell by their faces that they
+realized that he was leaving something out; they had watched
+him go down to face a blood-thirsty mob, and had seen that<a name="page147" id="page147"></a>
+mob become docile as lambs as though by magic. Clearly
+they could not understand what had happened, yet they did
+not ask him.</p>
+
+<p>"So it was Fuzzy's idea to volunteer as a new host for the
+creatures," Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>Dal nodded. "I knew that he could reproduce, of course,"
+he said. "Every Garvian has a Fuzzy, and whenever a new
+Garvian is born, the father's Fuzzy always splits so that half
+can join the new-born child. It's like the division of a cell;
+within hours the Fuzzy that stayed down there will have
+divided to provide enough protoplasm for every one of the
+surviving intelligent Bruckians."</p>
+
+<p>"And your diagnosis was the right one," Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll see," Dal said. "Tomorrow we'll know better."</p>
+
+<p>But clearly the problem had been solved. The next day
+there was an excited conference between the spokesman and
+the doctors on the <i>Lancet</i>. The Bruckians had elected to
+maintain the same host body as before. They had gotten
+used to it; with the small pink creatures serving as a shelter
+to protect them against the deadly antibodies, they could
+live in peace and security. But they were eager, before the
+<i>Lancet</i> disembarked, to sign a full medical service contract
+with the doctors from Hospital Earth. A contract was signed,
+subject only to final acceptance and ratification by the Hospital
+Earth officials.</p>
+
+<p>Now that their radio was free again, the three doctors jubilantly
+prepared a full account of the problem of 31 Brucker
+and its solution, and dispatched the news of the new contract
+to the first relay station on its way back to Hospital
+Earth. Then, weary to the point of collapse, they retired
+for the first good sleep in days, eagerly awaiting an official
+response from Hospital Earth on the completed case and
+the contract.<a name="page148" id="page148"></a></p>
+
+<p>"It ought to wipe out any black mark Dr. Tanner has
+against any of us," Jack said happily. "And especially in
+Dal's case." He grinned at the Red Doctor. "This one has
+been yours, all the way. You pulled it out of the fire after
+I flubbed it completely, and you're going to get the credit,
+if I have anything to say about it."</p>
+
+<p>"We should all get credit," Dal said. "A new contract
+isn't signed every day of the year. But the way we all fumbled
+our way into it, Hospital Earth shouldn't pay much
+attention to it anyway."</p>
+
+<p>But Dal knew that he was only throwing up his habitual
+shield to guard against disappointment. Traditionally, a new
+contract meant a Star rating for each of the crew that brought
+it in. All through medical school Dal had read the reports of
+other patrol ships that had secured new contracts with uncontacted
+planets, and he had seen the fanfare and honor
+that were heaped on the doctors from those ships. And for
+the first time since he had entered medical school years
+before, Dal now allowed himself to hope that his goal was
+in sight.</p>
+
+<p>He wanted to be a Star Surgeon more than anything else.
+It was the one thing that he had wanted and worked for
+since the cruel days when the plague had swept his homeland,
+destroying his mother and leaving his father an ailing
+cripple. And since his assignment aboard the <i>Lancet</i>, one
+thought had filled his mind: to turn in the scarlet collar and
+cuff in return for the cape and silver star of the full-fledged
+physician in the Red Service of Surgery.</p>
+
+<p>Always before there had been the half-conscious dread
+that something would happen, that in the end, after all the
+work, the silver star would still remain just out of reach,
+that somehow he would never quite get it.</p>
+
+<p>But now there could be no question. Even Black Doctor<a name="page149" id="page149"></a>
+Tanner could not deny a new contract. The crew of the
+<i>Lancet</i> would be called back to Hospital Earth for a full
+report on the newly contacted race, and their days as probationary
+doctors in the General Practice patrol would be
+over.</p>
+
+<p>After they had slept themselves out, the doctors prepared
+the ship for launching, and made their farewells to the
+Bruckian spokesman.</p>
+
+<p>"When the contract is ratified," Jack said, "a survey ship
+will come here. They will have all of the information that
+we have gathered, and they will spend many months gathering
+more. Tell them everything they want to know. Don't
+conceal anything, because once they have completed their
+survey, any General Practice Patrol ship in the galaxy will
+be able to answer a call for help and have the information
+they need to serve you."</p>
+
+<p>They delayed launching hour by hour waiting for a response
+from Hospital Earth, but the radio was silent. They
+thought of a dozen reasons why the message might have
+been delayed, but the radio silence continued. Finally they
+strapped down and lifted the ship from the planet, still waiting
+for a response.</p>
+
+<p>When it finally came, there was no message of congratulations,
+nor even any acknowledgment of the new contract.
+Instead, there was only a terse message:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>PROCEED TO REFERENCE POINT 43621 SECTION
+XIX AND STAND BY FOR INSPECTION PARTY</p></div>
+
+<p>Tiger took the message and read it in silence, then handed
+it to Dal.</p>
+
+<p>"What do they say?" Jack said.</p>
+
+<p>"Read it," Dal said. "They don't mention the contract,
+just an inspection party."<a name="page150" id="page150"></a></p>
+
+<p>"Inspection party! Is that the best they can do for us?"</p>
+
+<p>"They don't sound too enthusiastic," Tiger said. "At least
+you'd think they could acknowledge receipt of our report."</p>
+
+<p>"It's probably just part of the routine," Dal said. "Maybe
+they want to confirm our reports from our own records
+before they commit themselves."</p>
+
+<p>But he knew that he was only whistling in the dark. The
+moment he saw the terse message, he knew something had
+gone wrong with the contract. There would be no notes of
+congratulation, no returning in triumph and honor to Hospital
+Earth.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever the reason for the inspection party, Dal felt
+certain who the inspector was going to be.</p>
+
+<p>It had been exciting to dream, but the scarlet cape and
+the silver star were still a long way out of reach.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page151" id="page151"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter12" id="chapter12"></a>CHAPTER 12</h2>
+
+<h3>THE SHOWDOWN</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was hours later when their ship reached the contact
+point co-ordinates. There had been little talk during the
+transit; each of them knew already what the other was
+thinking, and there wasn't much to be said. The message had
+said it for them.</p>
+
+<p>Dal's worst fears were realized when the inspection ship
+appeared, converting from Koenig drive within a few miles
+of the <i>Lancet</i>. He had seen the ship before&mdash;a sleek, handsomely
+outfitted patrol class ship with the insignia of the
+Black Service of Pathology emblazoned on its hull, the
+private ship of a Four-star Black Doctor.</p>
+
+<p>But none of them anticipated the action taken by the
+inspection ship as it drew within lifeboat range of the <i>Lancet</i>.</p>
+
+<p>A scooter shot away from its storage rack on the black
+ship, and a crew of black-garbed technicians piled into the
+<i>Lancet</i>'s entrance lock, dressed in the special decontamination
+suits worn when a ship was returning from a plague
+spot into uninfected territory.<a name="page152" id="page152"></a></p>
+
+<p>"What is this?" Tiger demanded as the technicians started
+unloading decontamination gear into the lock. "What are
+you doing with that stuff?"</p>
+
+<p>The squad leader looked at him sourly. "You're in quarantine,
+Doc," he said. "Class I, all precautions, contact with
+unidentified pestilence. If you don't like it, argue with the
+Black Doctor, I've just got a job to do."</p>
+
+<p>He started shouting orders to his men, and they scattered
+throughout the ship, with blowers and disinfectants, driving
+antiseptic sprays into every crack and cranny of the ship's
+interior, scouring the hull outside in the rigid pattern prescribed
+for plague ships. They herded the doctors into the decontamination
+lock, stripped them of their clothes, scrubbed
+them down and tossed them special sterilized fatigues to
+wear with masks and gloves.</p>
+
+<p>"This is idiotic," Jack protested. "We aren't carrying
+any dangerous organisms!"</p>
+
+<p>The squad leader shrugged indifferently. "Tell it to the
+Black Doctor, not me. All I know is that this ship is under
+quarantine until it's officially released, and from what I hear,
+it's not going to be released for quite some time."</p>
+
+<p>At last the job was done, and the scooter departed back
+to the inspection ship. A few moments later they saw it
+returning, this time carrying just three men. In addition to
+the pilot and one technician, there was a single passenger:
+a portly figure dressed in a black robe, horn-rimmed glasses
+and cowl.</p>
+
+<p>The scooter grappled the <i>Lancet</i>'s side, and Black Doctor
+Hugo Tanner climbed wheezing into the entrance lock,
+followed by the technician. He stopped halfway into the
+lock to get his breath, and paused again as the lock swung
+closed behind him. Dal was shocked at the physical change
+in the man in the few short weeks since he had seen him<a name="page153" id="page153"></a>
+last. The Black Doctor's face was gray; every effort of
+movement brought on paroxysms of coughing. He looked
+sick, and he looked tired, yet his jaw was still set in angry
+determination.</p>
+
+<p>The doctors stood at attention as he stepped into the
+control room, hardly able to conceal their surprise at seeing
+him. "Well?" the Black Doctor snapped at them. "What's
+the trouble with you? You act like you've seen a ghost or
+something."</p>
+
+<p>"We&mdash;we'd heard that you were in the hospital, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Did you, now!" the Black Doctor snorted. "Hospital!
+Bah! I had to tell the press something to get the hounds off
+me for a while. These young puppies seem to think that
+a Black Doctor can just walk away from his duties any time
+he chooses to undergo their fancy surgical procedures. And
+you know who's been screaming the loudest to get their
+hands on me. The Red Service of Surgery, that's who!"</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor glared at Dal Timgar. "Well, I dare
+say the Red Doctors will have their chance at me, all in
+good time. But first there are certain things which must be
+taken care of." He looked up at the attendant. "You're quite
+certain that the ship has been decontaminated?"</p>
+
+<p>The attendant nodded. "Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"And the crewmen?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's safe to talk to them, sir, as long as you avoid physical
+contact."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor grunted and wheezed and settled himself
+down in a seat. "All right now, gentlemen," he said to
+the three, "let's have your story of this affair in the Brucker
+system, right from the start."</p>
+
+<p>"But we sent in a full report," Tiger said.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm aware of that, you idiot. I have waded through your
+report, all thirty-five pages of it, and I only wish you hadn't<a name="page154" id="page154"></a>
+been so long-winded. Now I want to hear what happened
+directly from you. Well?"</p>
+
+<p>The three doctors looked at each other. Then Jack began
+the story, starting with the first hesitant "greeting" that had
+come through to them. He told everything that had happened
+without embellishments: their first analysis of the
+nature of the problem, the biochemical and medical survey
+that they ran on the afflicted people, his own failure to make
+the diagnosis, the incident of Fuzzy's sudden affliction, and
+the strange solution that had finally come from it. As he
+talked the Black Doctor sat back with his eyes half closed,
+his face blank, listening and nodding from time to time as
+the story proceeded.</p>
+
+<p>And Jack was carefully honest and fair in his account.
+"We were all of us lost, until Dal Timgar saw the significance
+of what had happened to Fuzzy," he said. "His idea of putting
+the creature through the filter gave us our first specimen
+of the isolated virus, and showed us how to obtain the antibody.
+Then after we saw what happened with our initial
+series of injections, we were really at sea, and by then we
+couldn't reach a hospital ship for help of any kind." He went
+on to relate Dal's idea that the virus itself might be the
+intelligent creature, and recounted the things that happened
+after Dal went down to talk to the spokesman again with
+Fuzzy on his shoulder.</p>
+
+<p>Through it all the Black Doctor listened sourly, glancing
+occasionally at Dal and saying nothing. "So is that all?" he
+said when Jack had finished.</p>
+
+<p>"Not quite," Jack said. "I want it to be on the record
+that it was my failure in diagnosis that got us into trouble.
+I don't want any misunderstanding about that. If I'd had the
+wit to think beyond the end of my nose, there wouldn't
+have been any problem."<a name="page155" id="page155"></a></p>
+
+<p>"I see," the Black Doctor said. He pointed to Dal. "So
+it was this one who really came up with the answers and
+directed the whole program on this problem, is that right?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right," Jack said firmly. "He should get all the
+credit."</p>
+
+<p>Something stirred in Dal's mind and he felt Fuzzy snuggling
+in tightly to his side. He could feel the cold hostility
+in the Black Doctor's mind, and he started to say something,
+but the Black Doctor cut him off. "Do you agree to that
+also, Dr. Martin?" he asked Tiger.</p>
+
+<p>"I certainly do," Tiger said. "I'll back up the Blue Doctor
+right down the line."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor smiled unpleasantly and nodded. "Well,
+I'm certainly happy to hear you say that, gentlemen. I might
+say that it is a very great relief to me to hear it from your
+own testimony. Because this time there shouldn't be any
+argument from either of you as to just where the responsibility
+lies, and I'm relieved to know that I can completely
+exonerate you two, at any rate."</p>
+
+<p>Jack Alvarez's jaw went slack and he stared at the Black
+Doctor as though he hadn't heard him properly. "Exonerate
+us?" he said. "Exonerate us from what?"</p>
+
+<p>"From the charges of incompetence, malpractice and conduct
+unbecoming to a physician which I am lodging against
+your colleague in the Red Service here," the Black Doctor
+said angrily. "Of course, I was confident that neither of you
+two could have contributed very much to this bungling mess,
+but it is reassuring to have your own statements of that fact
+on the record. They should carry more weight in a Council
+hearing than any plea I might make in your behalf."</p>
+
+<p>"But&mdash;but what do you mean by a Council hearing?" Tiger
+stammered. "I don't understand you! This&mdash;this problem is
+<i>solved</i>. We solved it as a patrol team, all of us. We sent in a<a name="page156" id="page156"></a>
+brand new medical service contract from those people...."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, yes. <i>That!</i>" The Black Doctor drew a long pink
+dispatch sheet from an inner pocket and opened it out. The
+doctors could see the photo reproductions of their signatures
+at the bottom. "Fortunately&mdash;for you two&mdash;this bit of nonsense
+was brought to my attention at the first relay station
+that received it. I personally accepted it and withdrew it
+from the circuit before it could reach Hospital Earth for
+filing."</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, as they watched him, he ripped the pink dispatch
+sheet into a dozen pieces and tossed it into the disposal vent.
+"So much for that," he said slowly. "I can choose to overlook
+your foolishness in trying to cloud the important issues
+with a so-called 'contract' to divert attention, but I'm afraid
+I can't pay much attention to it, nor allow it to appear in
+the general report. And of course I am forced to classify
+the <i>Lancet</i> as a plague ship until a bacteriological and virological
+examination has been completed on both ship and
+crew. The planet itself will be considered a galactic plague
+spot until proper measures have been taken to insure its
+decontamination."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor drew some papers from another pocket
+and turned to Dal Timgar. "As for you, the charges are
+clear enough. You have broken the most fundamental rules
+of good judgment and good medicine in handling the 31
+Brucker affair. You have permitted a General Practice Patrol
+ship to approach a potentially dangerous plague spot without
+any notification of higher authorities. You have undertaken
+a biochemical and medical survey for which you had
+neither the proper equipment nor the training qualifications,
+and you exposed your ship and your crewmates to an
+incredible risk in landing on such a planet. You are responsible
+for untold&mdash;possibly fatal&mdash;damage to over two hundred<a name="page157" id="page157"></a>
+individuals of the race that called on you for help. You have
+even subjected the creature that depends upon your own
+race for its life and support to virtual slavery and possible
+destruction; and finally, you had the audacity to try to
+cover up your bungling with claims of arranging a medical
+service contract with an uninvestigated race."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor broke off as an attendant came in the
+door and whispered something in his ear. Doctor Tanner
+shook his head angrily, "I can't be bothered now!"</p>
+
+<p>"They say it's urgent, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it's always urgent." The Black Doctor heaved to
+his feet. "If it weren't for this miserable incompetent here,
+I wouldn't have to be taking precious time away from my
+more important duties." He scowled at the <i>Lancet</i> crewmen.
+"You will excuse me for a moment," he said, and disappeared
+into the communications room.</p>
+
+<p>The moment he was gone from the room, Jack and Tiger
+were talking at once. "He couldn't really be serious," Tiger
+said. "It's impossible! Not one of those charges would hold
+up under investigation."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I think it's a frame-up," Jack said, his voice tight
+with anger. "I knew that some people on Hospital Earth
+were out to get you, but I don't see how a Four-star Black
+Doctor could be a party to such a thing. Either someone has
+been misinforming him, or he just doesn't understand what
+happened."</p>
+
+<p>Dal shook his head. "He understands, all right, and he's
+the one who's determined to get me out of medicine. This is
+a flimsy excuse, but he has to use it, because it's now or
+never. He knows that if we bring in a contract with a new
+planet, and it's formally ratified, we'll all get our Stars and
+he'd never be able to block me again. And Black Doctor<a name="page158" id="page158"></a>
+Tanner is going to be certain that I don't get that Star, or
+die trying."</p>
+
+<p>"But this is completely unfair," Jack protested. "He's
+turning our own words against you! You can bet that he'll
+have a survey crew down on that planet in no time, bringing
+home a contract just the same as the one we wrote, and
+there won't be any questions asked about it."</p>
+
+<p>"Except that I'll be out of the service," Dal said. "Don't
+worry. You'll get the credit in the long run. When all the
+dust settles, he'll be sure that you two are named as agents
+for the contract. He doesn't want to hurt you, it's me that
+he's out to get."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he won't get away with it," Tiger said. "We can
+see to that. It's not too late to retract our stories. If he thinks
+he can get rid of you with something that wasn't your fault,
+he's going to find out that he has to get rid of a lot more than
+just you."</p>
+
+<p>But Dal was shaking his head. "Not this time, Tiger. This
+time you keep out of it."</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean, keep out of it?" Tiger cried. "Do
+you think I'm going to stand by quietly and watch him cut
+you down?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's exactly what you're going to do," Dal said
+sharply. "I meant what I said. I want you to keep your
+mouth shut. Don't say anything more at all, just let it be."</p>
+
+<p>"But I can't stand by and do nothing! When a friend of
+mine needs help&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Can't you get it through your thick skull that this time
+I don't want your help?" Dal said. "Do me a favor this time.
+<i>Leave me alone.</i> Don't stick your thumb in the pie."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger just stared at the little Garvian. "Look, Dal, all
+I'm trying to do&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I know what you're trying to do," Dal snapped, "and<a name="page159" id="page159"></a>
+I don't want any part of it. I don't need your help, I don't
+<i>want</i> it. Why do you have to force it down my throat?"</p>
+
+<p>There was a long silence. Then Tiger spread his hands
+helplessly. "Okay," he said, "if that's the way you want it."
+He turned away from Dal, his big shoulders slumping. "I've
+only been trying to make up for some of the dirty breaks
+you've been handed since you came to Hospital Earth."</p>
+
+<p>"I know that," Dal said, "and I've appreciated it. Sometimes
+it's been the only thing that's kept me going. But that
+doesn't mean that you own me. Friendship is one thing; proprietorship
+is something else. I'm not your private property."</p>
+
+<p>He saw the look on Tiger's face, as though he had suddenly
+turned and slapped him viciously across the face.
+"Look, I know it sounds awful, but I can't help it. I don't
+want to hurt you, and I don't want to change things with us,
+but <i>I'm a person just like you are</i>. I can't go on leaning on
+you any longer. Everybody has to stand on his own somewhere
+along the line. You do, and I do, too. And that goes
+for Jack, too."</p>
+
+<p>They heard the door to the communications shack open,
+and the Black Doctor was back in the room. "Well?" he
+said. "Am I interrupting something?" He glanced sharply
+at the tight-lipped doctors. "The call was from the survey
+section," he went on blandly. "A survey crew is on its way
+to 31 Brucker to start gathering some useful information on
+the situation. But that is neither here nor there. You have
+heard the charges against the Red Doctor here. Is there anything
+any of you want to say?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger and Jack looked at each other. The silence in the
+room was profound.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor turned to Dal. "And what about you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have something to say, but I'd like to talk to you alone."<a name="page160" id="page160"></a></p>
+
+<p>"As you wish. You two will return to your quarters and
+stay there."</p>
+
+<p>"The attendant, too," Dal said.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor's eyes glinted and met Dal's for a moment.
+Then he shrugged and nodded to his attendant. "Step
+outside, please. We have a private matter to discuss."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor turned his attention to the papers on
+the desk as Dal stood before him with Fuzzy sitting in the
+crook of his arm. From the moment that the notice of the
+inspection ship's approach had come to the <i>Lancet</i>, Dal had
+known what was coming. He had been certain what the
+purpose of the detainment was, and who the inspector would
+be, yet he had not really been worried. In the back of his
+mind, a small, comfortable thought had been sustaining him.</p>
+
+<p>It didn't really matter how hostile or angry Black Doctor
+Tanner might be; he knew that in a last-ditch stand there
+was one way the Black Doctor could be handled.</p>
+
+<p>He remembered the dramatic shift from hostility to friendliness
+among the Bruckians when he had come down from
+the ship with Fuzzy on his shoulder. Before then, he had
+never considered using his curious power to protect himself
+and gain an end; but since then, without even consciously
+bringing it to mind, he had known that the next time would
+be easier. If it ever came to a showdown with Black Doctor
+Tanner, a trap from which he couldn't free himself, there
+was still this way. <i>The Black Doctor would never know
+what happened</i>, he thought. <i>It would just seem to him,
+suddenly, that he had been looking at things the wrong way.
+No one would ever know.</i></p>
+
+<p>But he knew, even as the thought came to mind, that this
+was not so. Now, face to face with the showdown, he knew
+that it was no good. One person would know what had happened:<a name="page161" id="page161"></a>
+himself. On 31 Brucker, he had convinced himself
+that the end justified the means; here it was different.</p>
+
+<p>For a moment, as Black Doctor Tanner stared up at him
+through the horn-rimmed glasses, Dal wavered. Why should
+he hesitate to protect himself? he thought angrily. This attack
+against him was false and unfair, trumped up for the sole
+purpose of destroying his hopes and driving him out of the
+Service. Why shouldn't he grasp at any means, fair or
+unfair, to fight it?</p>
+
+<p>But he could hear the echo of Black Doctor Arnquist's
+words in his mind: <i>I beg of you not to use it. No matter
+what happens, don't use it.</i> Of course, Doctor Arnquist
+would never know, for sure, that he had broken faith ...
+but <i>he</i> would know....</p>
+
+<p>"Well," Black Doctor Tanner was saying, "speak up.
+I can't waste much more time dealing with you. If you have
+something to say, say it."</p>
+
+<p>Dal sighed. He lifted Fuzzy down and slipped him gently
+into his jacket pocket. "These charges against me are not
+true," he said.</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor shrugged. "Your own crewmates support
+them with their statements."</p>
+
+<p>"That's not the point. They're not true, and you know
+it as well as I do. You've deliberately rigged them up to
+build a case against me."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor's face turned dark and his hands
+clenched on the papers on the desk. "Are you suggesting
+that I have nothing better to do than to rig false charges
+against one probationer out of seventy-five thousand traveling
+the galaxy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'm suggesting that we are alone here," Dal said. "Nobody
+else is listening. Just for once, right now, we can be honest.<a name="page162" id="page162"></a>
+We both know what you're trying to do to me. I'd just like
+to hear you admit it once."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor slammed his fist down on the table.
+"I don't have to listen to insolence like this," he roared.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you do," Dal said. "Just this once. Then I'll be
+through." Suddenly Dal's words were tumbling out of control,
+and his whole body was trembling with anger. "You
+have been determined from the very beginning that I should
+never finish the medical training that I started. You've tried
+to block me time after time, in every way you could think of.
+You've almost succeeded, but never quite made it until this
+time. But now you <i>have</i> to make it. If that contract were
+to go through I'd get my Star, and you'd never again be
+able to do anything about it. So it's now or never if you're
+going to break me."</p>
+
+<p>"Nonsense!" the Black Doctor stormed. "I wouldn't lower
+myself to meddle with your kind. The charges speak for
+themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"Not if you look at them carefully. You claim I failed to
+notify Hospital Earth that we had entered a plague area&mdash;but
+our records of our contact with the planet prove that
+we did only what any patrol ship would have done when
+the call came in. We didn't have enough information to
+know that there was a plague there, and when we finally
+did know the truth we could no longer make contact with
+Hospital Earth. You claim that I brought harm to two hundred
+of the natives there, yet if you study our notes and
+records, you will see that our errors there were unavoidable.
+We couldn't have done anything else under the circumstances,
+and if we hadn't done what we did, we would have
+been ignoring the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment
+which we've been taught. And your charges don't mention
+that by possibly harming two hundred of the Bruckians, we<a name="page163" id="page163"></a>
+found a way to save two million of them from absolute
+destruction."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor glared at him. "The charges will stand
+up, I'll see to that."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I'm sure you will! You can ram them through and
+make them stick before anybody ever has a chance to examine
+them carefully. You have the power to do it. And by
+the time an impartial judge could review all the records,
+your survey ship will have been there and gathered so much
+more data and muddied up the field so thoroughly that no
+one will ever be certain that the charges aren't true. But
+you and I know that they wouldn't really hold up under
+inspection. We know that they're false right down the line
+and that you're the one who is responsible for them."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor grew darker, and he trembled with
+rage as he drew himself to his feet. Dal could feel his hatred
+almost like a physical blow and his voice was almost a shriek.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said, "if you insist, then the charges are
+lies, made up specifically to break you, and I'm going to
+push them through if I have to jeopardize my reputation to
+do it. You could have bowed out gracefully at any time
+along the way and saved yourself dishonor and disgrace,
+but you wouldn't do it. Now, I'm going to force you to.
+I've worked my lifetime long to build the reputation of
+Hospital Earth and of the Earthmen that go out to all the
+planets as representatives. I've worked to make the Confederation
+respect Hospital Earth and the Earthmen who are
+her doctors. You don't belong here with us. You forced
+yourself in, you aren't an Earthman and you don't have the
+means or resources to be a doctor from Hospital Earth. If
+you succeed, a thousand others will follow in your footsteps,
+chipping away at the reputation that we have worked
+to build, and I'm not going to allow one incompetent alien<a name="page164" id="page164"></a>
+bungler pretending to be a surgeon to walk in and destroy
+the thing I've fought to build&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor's voice had grown shrill, almost out of
+control. But now suddenly he broke off, his mouth still
+working, and his face went deathly white. The finger he
+was pointing at Dal wavered and fell. He clutched at his
+chest, his breath coming in great gasps and staggered back
+into the chair. "Something's happened," his voice croaked.
+"I can't breathe."</p>
+
+<p>Dal stared at him in horror for a moment, then leaped
+across the room and jammed his thumb against the alarm
+bell.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page165" id="page165"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter13" id="chapter13"></a>CHAPTER 13</h2>
+
+<h3>THE TRIAL</h3>
+
+
+<p>Red Doctor Dal Timgar knew at once that there would
+be no problem in diagnosis here. The Black Doctor
+slumped back in his seat, gasping for air, his face twisted in
+pain as he labored just to keep on breathing. Tiger and Jack
+burst into the room, and Dal could tell that they knew
+instantly what had happened.</p>
+
+<p>"Coronary," Jack said grimly.</p>
+
+<p>Dal nodded. "The question is, just how bad."</p>
+
+<p>"Get the cardiograph in here. We'll soon see."</p>
+
+<p>But the electrocardiograph was not needed to diagnose
+the nature of the trouble. All three doctors had seen the
+picture often enough&mdash;the sudden, massive blockage of circulation
+to the heart that was so common to creatures with
+central circulatory pumps, the sort of catastrophic accident
+which could cause irreparable crippling or sudden death
+within a matter of minutes.</p>
+
+<p>Tiger injected some medicine to ease the pain, and started
+oxygen to help the labored breathing, but the old man's color<a name="page166" id="page166"></a>
+did not improve. He was too weak to talk; he just lay helplessly
+gasping for air as they lifted him up onto a bed. Then
+Jack took an electrocardiograph tracing and shook his head.</p>
+
+<p>"We'd better get word back to Hospital Earth, and fast,"
+he said quietly. "He just waited a little too long for that
+cardiac transplant, that's all. This is a bad one. Tell them
+we need a surgeon out here just as fast as they can move,
+or the Black Service is going to have a dead physician on
+its hands."</p>
+
+<p>There was a sound across the room, and the Black Doctor
+motioned feebly to Tiger. "The cardiogram," he gasped.
+"Let me see it."</p>
+
+<p>"There's nothing for you to see," Tiger said. "You
+mustn't do anything to excite yourself."</p>
+
+<p>"Let me see it." Dr. Tanner took the thin strip of paper
+and ran it quickly through his fingers. Then he dropped it
+on the bed and lay his head back hopelessly. "Too late," he
+said, so softly they could hardly hear him. "Too late for
+help now."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger checked his blood pressure and listened to his heart.
+"It will only take a few hours to get help," he said. "You
+rest and sleep now. There's plenty of time."</p>
+
+<p>He joined Dal and Jack in the corridor. "I'm afraid he's
+right, this time," he said. "The damage is severe, and he
+hasn't the strength to hold out very long. He might last long
+enough for a surgeon and operating team to get here, but
+I doubt it. We'd better get the word off."</p>
+
+<p>A few moments later he put the earphones aside. "It'll
+take six hours for the nearest help to get here," he said.
+"Maybe five and a half if they really crowd it. But when
+they get a look at that cardiogram on the screen they'll just
+throw up their hands. He's got to have a transplant, nothing
+less, and even if we can keep him alive until a surgical team<a name="page167" id="page167"></a>
+gets here the odds are a thousand to one against his surviving
+the surgery."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, he's been asking for it," Jack said. "They've been
+trying to get him into the hospital for a cardiac transplant
+for years. Everybody's known that one of those towering
+rages would get him sooner or later."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe he'll hold on better than we think," Dal said.
+"Let's watch and wait."</p>
+
+<p>But the Black Doctor was not doing well. Moment by
+moment he grew weaker, laboring harder for air as his
+blood pressure crept slowly down. Half an hour later the
+pain returned; Tiger took another tracing while Dal checked
+his venous pressure and shock level.</p>
+
+<p>As he finished, Dal felt the Black Doctor's eyes on him.
+"It's going to be all right," he said. "There'll be time for
+help to come."</p>
+
+<p>Feebly the Black Doctor shook his head. "No time," he
+said. "Can't wait that long." Dal could see the fear in the
+old man's eyes. His lips began to move again as though there
+were something more he wanted to say; but then his face
+hardened, and he turned his head away helplessly.</p>
+
+<p>Dal walked around the bed and looked down at the
+tracing, comparing it with the first one that was taken.
+"What do you think, Tiger?"</p>
+
+<p>"It's no good. He'll never make it for five more hours."</p>
+
+<p>"What about right now?"</p>
+
+<p>Tiger shook his head. "It's a terrible surgical risk."</p>
+
+<p>"But every minute of waiting makes it worse, right?"</p>
+
+<p>"That's right."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I think we'll stop waiting," Dal said. "We have a
+prosthetic heart in condition for use, don't we?"</p>
+
+<p>"Of course."</p>
+
+<p>"Good. Get it ready now." It seemed as though someone<a name="page168" id="page168"></a>
+else were talking. "You'll have to be first assistant, Tiger.
+We'll get him onto the heart-lung machine, and if we don't
+have help available by then, we'll have to try to complete
+the transplant. Jack, you'll give anaesthesia, and it will be
+a tricky job. Try to use local blocks as much as you can,
+and have the heart-lung machine ready well in advance.
+We'll only have a few seconds to make the shift. Now let's
+get moving."</p>
+
+<p>Tiger stared at him. "Are you sure that you want to do
+this?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never wanted anything less in my life," Dal said fervently.
+"But do you think he can survive until a Hospital
+Ship arrives?"</p>
+
+<p>"No."</p>
+
+<p>"Then it seems to me that I don't have any choice. You
+two don't need to worry. This is a surgical problem now,
+and I'll take full responsibility."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor was watching him, and Dal knew he
+had heard the conversation. Now the old man lay helplessly
+as they moved about getting the surgical room into preparation.
+Jack prepared the anaesthetics, checked and rechecked
+the complex heart-lung machine which could artificially
+support circulation and respiration at the time that the
+damaged heart was separated from its great vessels. The
+transplant prosthetic heart had been grown in the laboratories
+on Hospital Earth from embryonic tissue; Tiger removed
+it from the frozen specimen locker and brought it
+to normal body temperature in the special warm saline bath
+designed for the purpose.</p>
+
+<p>Throughout the preparations the Black Doctor lay watching,
+still conscious enough to recognize what was going on,
+attempting from time to time to shake his head in protest
+but not quite succeeding. Finally Dal came to the bedside.<a name="page169" id="page169"></a>
+"Don't be afraid," he said gently to the old man. "It isn't safe
+to try to delay until the ship from Hospital Earth can get
+here. Every minute we wait is counting against you. I think
+I can manage the transplant if I start now. I know you don't
+like it, but I am the Red Doctor in authority on this ship.
+If I have to order you, I will."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor lay silent for a moment, staring at Dal.
+Then the fear seemed to fade from his face, and the anger
+disappeared. With a great effort he moved his head to nod.
+"All right, son," he said softly. "Do the best you know how."</p>
+
+<hr class="shorter" />
+
+<p>Dal knew from the moment he made the decision to go
+ahead that the thing he was undertaking was all but hopeless.</p>
+
+<p>There was little or no talk as the three doctors worked at
+the operating table. The overhead light in the ship's tiny
+surgery glowed brightly; the only sound in the room was
+the wheeze of the anaesthesia apparatus, the snap of clamps
+and the doctors' own quiet breathing as they worked desperately
+against time.</p>
+
+<p>Dal felt as if he were in a dream, working like an automaton,
+going through mechanical motions that seemed completely
+unrelated to the living patient that lay on the operating
+table. In his training he had assisted at hundreds of organ
+transplant operations; he himself had done dozens of cardiac
+transplants, with experienced surgeons assisting and guiding
+him until the steps of the procedure had become almost
+second nature. On Hospital Earth, with the unparalleled
+medical facilities available there, and with well-trained teams
+of doctors, anaesthetists and nurses the technique of replacing
+an old worn-out damaged heart with a new and healthy one
+had become commonplace. It posed no more threat to a<a name="page170" id="page170"></a>
+patient than a simple appendectomy had posed three centuries
+before.</p>
+
+<p>But here in the patrol ship's operating room under emergency
+conditions there seemed little hope of success. Already
+the Black Doctor had suffered violent shock from the damage
+that had occurred in his heart. Already he was clinging
+to life by a fragile thread; the additional shock of the surgery,
+of the anaesthesia and the necessary conversion to the heart-lung
+machine while the delicate tissues of the new heart were
+fitted and sutured into place vessel by vessel was more than
+any patient could be expected to survive.</p>
+
+<p>Yet Dal had known when he saw the second cardiogram
+that the attempt would have to be made. Now he worked
+swiftly, his frail body engulfed in the voluminous surgical
+gown, his thin fingers working carefully with the polished
+instruments. Speed and skill were all that could save the
+Black Doctor now, to offer him the one chance in a thousand
+that he had for survival.</p>
+
+<p>But the speed and skill had to be Dal's. Dal knew that,
+and the knowledge was like a lead weight strapped to his
+shoulders. If Black Doctor Hugo Tanner was fighting for
+his life now, Dal knew that he too was fighting for his life&mdash;the
+only kind of life that he wanted, the life of a physician.</p>
+
+<p>Black Doctor Tanner's antagonism to him as an alien, as
+an incompetent, as one who was unworthy to wear the
+collar and cuff of a physician from Hospital Earth, was
+common knowledge. Dal realized with perfect clarity that
+if he failed now, his career as a physician would be over;
+no one, not even himself, would ever be entirely certain
+that he had not somehow, in some dim corner of his mind,
+allowed himself to fail.</p>
+
+<p>Yet if he had not made the attempt and the Black Doctor<a name="page171" id="page171"></a>
+had died before help had come, there would always be those
+who would accuse him of delaying on purpose.</p>
+
+<p>His mouth was dry; he longed for a drink of water, even
+though he knew that no water could quench this kind of
+thirst. His fingers grew numb as he worked, and moment
+by moment the sense of utter hopelessness grew stronger in
+his mind. Tiger worked stolidly across the table from him,
+inexpert help at best because of the sketchy surgical training
+he had had. Even his solid presence in support here did
+not lighten the burden for Dal. There was nothing that
+Tiger could do or say that would help things or change
+things now. Even Fuzzy, waiting alone on his perch in the
+control room, could not help him now. Nothing could help
+now but his own individual skill as a surgeon, and his bitter
+determination that he must not and would not fail.</p>
+
+<p>But his fingers faltered as a thousand questions welled up
+in his mind. Was he doing this right? This vessel here ...
+clamp it and tie it? Or dissect it out and try to preserve it?
+This nerve plexus ... which one was it? How important?
+How were the blood pressure and respirations doing? Was
+the Black Doctor holding his own under the assault of the
+surgery?</p>
+
+<p>The more Dal tried to hurry the more he seemed to be
+wading through waist-deep mud, unable to make his fingers
+do what he wanted them to do. How could he save ten
+seconds, twenty seconds, a half a minute? That half a minute
+might make the difference between success or failure,
+yet the seconds ticked by swiftly and the procedure was
+going slowly.</p>
+
+<p>Too slowly. He reached a point where he thought he
+could not go on. His mind was searching desperately for
+help&mdash;any kind of help, something to lean on, something to
+brace him and give him support. And then quite suddenly<a name="page172" id="page172"></a>
+he understood something clearly that had been nibbling at
+the corners of his mind for a long time. It was as if someone
+had snapped on a floodlight in a darkened room, and he saw
+something he had never seen before.</p>
+
+<p>He saw that from the first day he had stepped down from
+the Garvian ship that had brought him to Hospital Earth
+to begin his medical training, he had been relying upon
+crutches to help him.</p>
+
+<p>Black Doctor Arnquist had been a crutch upon whom he
+could lean. Tiger, for all his clumsy good-heartedness and
+for all the help and protection he had offered, had been a
+crutch. Fuzzy, who had been by his side since the day he
+was born, was still another kind of crutch to fall back on,
+a way out, a port of haven in the storm. They were crutches,
+every one, and he had leaned on them heavily.</p>
+
+<p>But now there was no crutch to lean on. He had a quick
+mind with good training. He had two nimble hands that
+knew their job, and two legs that were capable of supporting
+his weight, frail as they were. He knew now that he had to
+stand on them squarely, for the first time in his life.</p>
+
+<p>And suddenly he realized that this was as it should be.
+It seemed so clear, so obvious and unmistakable that he wondered
+how he could have failed to recognize it for so long.
+If he could not depend on himself, then Black Doctor Hugo
+Tanner would have been right all along. If he could not do
+this job that was before him on his own strength, standing
+on his own two legs without crutches to lean on, how could
+he claim to be a competent physician? What right did he
+have to the goal he sought if he had to earn it on the strength
+of the help of others? It was <i>he</i> who wanted to be a Star
+Surgeon&mdash;not Fuzzy, not Tiger, nor anyone else.</p>
+
+<p>He felt his heart thudding in his chest, and he saw the
+operation before him as if he were standing in an amphitheater<a name="page173" id="page173"></a>
+peering down over some other surgeon's shoulder.
+Suddenly everything else was gone from his mind but the
+immediate task at hand. His fingers began to move more
+swiftly, with a confidence he had never felt before. The
+decisions to be made arose, and he made them without hesitation,
+and knew as he made them that they were right.</p>
+
+<p>And for the first time the procedure began to move. He
+murmured instructions to Jack from time to time, and placed
+Tiger's clumsy hands in the places he wanted them for
+retraction. "Not there, back a little," he said. "That's right.
+Now hold this clamp and release it slowly while I tie, then
+reclamp it. Slowly now ... that's the way! Jack, check that
+pressure again."</p>
+
+<p>It seemed as though someone else were doing the surgery,
+directing his hands step by step in the critical work that had
+to be done. Dal placed the connections to the heart-lung
+machine perfectly, and moved with new swiftness and confidence
+as the great blood vessels were clamped off and the
+damaged heart removed. A quick check of vital signs, chemistries,
+oxygenation, a sharp instruction to Jack, a caution
+to Tiger, and the new prosthetic heart was in place. He
+worked now with painstaking care, manipulating the micro-sutures
+that would secure the new vessels to the old so
+firmly that they were almost indistinguishable from a healed
+wound, and he knew that it was going <i>right</i> now, that
+whether the patient ultimately survived or not, he had made
+the right decision and had carried it through with all the
+skill at his command.</p>
+
+<p>And then the heart-lung machine fell silent again, and
+the carefully applied nodal stimulator flicked on and off, and
+slowly, at first hesitantly, then firmly and vigorously, the
+new heart began its endless pumping chore. The Black Doctor's
+blood pressure moved up to a healthy level and stabilized;<a name="page174" id="page174"></a>
+the gray flesh of his face slowly became suffused with
+healthy pink. It was over, and Dal was walking out of the
+surgery, his hands trembling so violently that he could
+hardly get his gown off. He wanted to laugh and cry at the
+same time, and he could see the silent pride in the others'
+faces as they joined him in the dressing room to change
+clothes.</p>
+
+<p>He knew then that no matter what happened he had vindicated
+himself. Half an hour later, back in the sickbay, the
+Black Doctor was awake, breathing slowly and easily without
+need of supplemental oxygen. Only the fine sweat standing
+out on his forehead gave indication of the ordeal he had
+been through.</p>
+
+<p>Swiftly and clinically Dal checked the vital signs as the
+old man watched him. He was about to turn the pressure
+cuff over to Jack and leave when the Black Doctor said,
+"Wait."</p>
+
+<p>Dal turned to him. "Yes, sir?"</p>
+
+<p>"You did it?" the Black Doctor said softly.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"It's finished? The transplant is done?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes," Dal said. "It went well, and you can rest now.
+You were a good patient."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Dal saw a smile cross the old man's face.
+"A foolish patient, perhaps," he said, so softly that no one
+but Dal could hear, "but not so foolish now, not so foolish
+that I cannot recognize a good doctor when I see one."</p>
+
+<p>And with a smile he closed his eyes and went to sleep.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+<p><a name="page175" id="page175"></a></p>
+
+<h2><a name="chapter14" id="chapter14"></a>CHAPTER 14</h2>
+
+<h3>STAR SURGEON</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was amazing to Dal Timgar just how good it seemed
+to be back on Hospital Earth again.</p>
+
+<p>In the time he had been away as a crewman of the <i>Lancet</i>,
+the seasons had changed, and the port of Philadelphia lay
+under the steaming summer sun. As Dal stepped off the
+shuttle ship to join the hurrying crowds in the great space-port,
+it seemed almost as though he were coming home.</p>
+
+<p>He thought for a moment of the night not so long before
+when he had waited here for the shuttle to Hospital Seattle,
+to attend the meeting of the medical training council. He
+had worn no uniform then, not even the collar and cuff of
+the probationary physician, and he remembered his despair
+that night when he had thought that his career as a physician
+from Hospital Earth was at an end.</p>
+
+<p>Now he was returning by shuttle from Hospital Seattle
+to the port of Philadelphia again, completing the cycle that
+had been started many months before. But things were different
+now. The scarlet cape of the Red Service of Surgery<a name="page176" id="page176"></a>
+hung from his slender shoulders now, and the light of the
+station room caught the polished silver emblem on his collar.
+It was a tiny bit of metal, but its significance was enormous.
+It announced to the world Dal Timgar's final and permanent
+acceptance as a physician; but more, it symbolized the far-reaching
+distances he had already traveled, and would travel
+again, in the service of Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>It was the silver star of the Star Surgeon.</p>
+
+<p>The week just past had been both exciting and confusing.
+The hospital ship had arrived five hours after Black
+Doctor Hugo Tanner had recovered from his anaesthesia,
+moving in on the <i>Lancet</i> in frantic haste and starting the
+shipment of special surgical supplies, anaesthetics and maintenance
+equipment across in lifeboats almost before contact
+had been stabilized. A large passenger boat hurtled away
+from the hospital ship's side, carrying a pair of Four-star
+surgeons, half a dozen Three-star Surgeons, two Radiologists,
+two Internists, a dozen nurses and another Four-star
+Black Doctor across to the <i>Lancet</i>; and when they arrived
+at the patrol ship's entrance lock, they discovered that their
+haste had been in vain.</p>
+
+<p>It was like Grand Rounds in the general wards of Hospital
+Philadelphia, with the Four-star Surgeons in the lead as they
+tramped aboard the patrol ship. They found Black Doctor
+Tanner sitting quietly at his bedside reading a journal of
+pathology and taking notes. He glared up at them when they
+burst in the door without even knocking.</p>
+
+<p>"But are you feeling well, sir?" the chief surgeon asked
+him for the third time.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course I'm feeling well. Do you think I'd be sitting
+here if I weren't?" the Black Doctor growled. "Dr. Timgar
+is my surgeon and the physician in charge of this case. Talk
+to him. He can give you all the details of the matter."<a name="page177" id="page177"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You mean you permitted a probationary physician to
+perform this kind of surgery?" The Four-star Surgeon cried
+incredulously.</p>
+
+<p>"I did not!" the Black Doctor snapped. "He had to drag
+me kicking and screaming into the operating room. But fortunately
+for me, this particular probationary physician had
+the courage of his convictions, as well as wit enough to
+realize that I would not survive if he waited for you to gather
+your army together. But I think you will find the surgery
+was handled with excellent skill. Again, I must refer you to
+Dr. Timgar for the details. I was not paying attention to the
+technique of the surgery, I assure you."</p>
+
+<p>"But sir," the chief surgeon broke in, "how could there
+have been surgery of any sort here? The dispatch that came
+to us listed the <i>Lancet</i> as a plague ship&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"<i>Plague ship!</i>" the Black Doctor exploded. "Oh, yes. Egad!
+I&mdash;hum!&mdash;imagine that the dispatcher must have gotten his
+signals mixed somehow. Well, I suppose you want to examine
+me. Let's have it over with."</p>
+
+<p>The doctors examined him within an inch of his life. They
+exhausted every means of physical, laboratory and radiological
+examination short of re-opening his chest and looking in,
+and at last the chief surgeon was forced reluctantly to admit
+that there was nothing left for him to do but provide post-operative
+follow-up care for the irascible old man.</p>
+
+<p>And by the time the examination was over and the Black
+Doctor was moved aboard the hospital ship, word had come
+through official channels to the <i>Lancet</i> announcing that the
+quarantine order had been a dispatcher's unfortunate error,
+and directing the ship to return at once to Hospital Earth
+with the new contract that had been signed on 31 Brucker
+VII. The crewmen of the <i>Lancet</i> had special orders to report
+immediately to the medical training council at Hospital<a name="page178" id="page178"></a>
+Seattle upon arrival, in order to give their formal General
+Practice Patrol reports and to receive their appointments
+respectively as Star Physician, Star Diagnostician and Star
+Surgeon. The orders were signed with the personal mark of
+Hugo Tanner, Physician of the Black Service of Pathology.</p>
+
+<p>Now the ceremony and celebration in Hospital Seattle
+were over, and Dal had another appointment to keep. He
+lifted Fuzzy from his elbow and tucked him safely into an
+inner jacket pocket to protect him from the crowd in the
+station, and moved swiftly through to the subway tubes.</p>
+
+<p>He had expected to see Black Doctor Arnquist at the
+investment ceremonies, but there had been neither sign nor
+word from him. Dal tried to reach him after the ceremonies
+were over; all he could learn was that the Black Doctor was
+unavailable. And then a message had come through to Dal
+under the official Hospital Earth headquarters priority, requesting
+him to present himself at once at the grand council
+building at Hospital Philadelphia for an interview of the
+utmost importance.</p>
+
+<p>He followed the directions on the dispatch now, and
+reached the grand council building well ahead of the appointed
+time. He followed corridors and rode elevators until
+he reached the twenty-second story office suite where he
+had been directed to report. The whole building seemed
+alive with bustle, as though something of enormous importance
+was going on; high-ranking physicians of all the
+services were hurrying about, gathering in little groups at
+the elevators and talking among themselves in hushed voices.
+Even more strange, Dal saw delegation after delegation of
+alien creatures moving through the building, some in the
+special atmosphere-maintaining devices necessary for their
+survival on Earth, some characteristically alone and unaccompanied,
+others in the company of great retinues of<a name="page179" id="page179"></a>
+underlings. Dal paused in the main concourse of the building
+as he saw two such delegations arrive by special car from
+the port of Philadelphia.</p>
+
+<p>"Odd," he said quietly, reaching in to stroke Fuzzy's
+head. "Quite a gathering of the clans, eh? What do you
+think? Last time I saw a gathering like this was back at
+home during one of the centennial conclaves of the Galactic
+Confederation."</p>
+
+<p>On the twenty-second floor, a secretary ushered him into
+an inner office. There he found Black Doctor Thorvold
+Arnquist, in busy conference with a Blue Doctor, a Green
+Doctor and a surgeon. The Black Doctor looked up, and
+beamed. "That will be all right now, gentlemen," he said.
+"I'll be in touch with you directly."</p>
+
+<p>He waited until the others had departed. Then he crossed
+the room and practically hugged Dal in delight. "It's good
+to see you, boy," he said, "and above all, it's good to see
+that silver star at last. You and your little pink friend have
+done a good job, a far better job than I thought you would
+do, I must admit."</p>
+
+<p>Dal perched Fuzzy on his shoulder. "But what is this
+about an interview? Why did you want to see me, and what
+are all these people doing here?"</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Arnquist laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "You won't
+have to stay for the council meeting. It will be a long boring
+session, I fear. Doubtless every single one of these delegates
+at some time in the next few days will be standing up to give
+us a three hour oration, and it is my ill fortune as a Four-star
+Black Doctor to have to sit and listen and smile through it
+all. But in the end, it will be worth it, and I thought that you
+should at least know that your name will be mentioned
+many times during these sessions."</p>
+
+<p>"My name?"<a name="page180" id="page180"></a></p>
+
+<p>"You didn't know that you were a guinea pig, did you?"
+the Black Doctor said.</p>
+
+<p>"I ... I'm afraid I didn't."</p>
+
+<p>"An unwitting tool, so to speak," the Black Doctor
+chuckled. "You know, of course, that the Galactic Confederation
+has been delaying and stalling any action on Hospital
+Earth's application for full status as one of the Confederation
+powers and for a seat on the council. We had fulfilled two
+criteria for admission without difficulty&mdash;we had resolved
+our problems at home so that we were free from war on
+our own planet, and we had a talent that is much needed
+and badly in demand in the galaxy, a job to do that would
+fit into the Confederation's organization. But the Confederation
+has always had a third criterion for its membership,
+a criterion that Hospital Earth could not so easily prove or
+demonstrate."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor smiled. "After all, there could be no
+place in a true Confederation of worlds for any one race of
+people that considered itself superior to all the rest. No race
+can be admitted to the Confederation until its members have
+demonstrated that they are capable of tolerance, willing to
+accept the members of other races on an equal footing. And
+it has always been the nature of Earthmen to be intolerant,
+to assume that one who looks strange and behaves differently
+must somehow be inferior."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor crossed the room and opened a folder
+on the desk. "You can read the details some other time, if
+you like. You were selected by the Galactic Confederation
+from a thousand possible applicants, to serve as a test case,
+to see if a place could be made for you on Hospital Earth.
+No one here was told of your position&mdash;not even you&mdash;although
+certain of us suspected the truth. The Confederation
+wanted to see if a well-qualified, likeable and intelligent<a name="page181" id="page181"></a>
+creature from another world would be accepted and elevated
+to equal rank as a physician with Earthmen."</p>
+
+<p>Dal stared at him. "And I was the one?"</p>
+
+<p>"You were the one. It was a struggle, all right, but Hospital
+Earth has finally satisfied the Confederation. At the
+end of this conclave we will be admitted to full membership
+and given a permanent seat and vote in the galactic council.
+Our probationary period will be over. But enough of that.
+What about you? What are your plans? What do you propose
+to do now that you have that star on your collar?"</p>
+
+<p>They talked then about the future. Tiger Martin had been
+appointed to the survey crew returning to 31 Brucker VII,
+at his own request, while Jack was accepting a temporary
+teaching post in the great diagnostic clinic at Hospital Philadelphia.
+There were a dozen things that Dal had considered,
+but for the moment he wanted only to travel from medical
+center to medical center on Hospital Earth, observing and
+studying in order to decide how he would best like to use
+his abilities and his position as a Physician from Hospital
+Earth. "It will be in surgery, of course," he said. "Just
+where in surgery, or what kind, I don't know just yet. But
+there will be time enough to decide that."</p>
+
+<p>"Then go along," Dr. Arnquist said, "with my congratulations
+and blessing. You have taught us a great deal, and
+perhaps you have learned some things at the same time."</p>
+
+<p>Dal hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. "I've learned
+some things," he said, "but there's still one thing that I want
+to do before I go."</p>
+
+<p>He lifted his little pink friend gently down from his
+shoulder and rested him in the crook of his arm. Fuzzy
+looked up at him, blinking his shoe-button eyes happily.
+"You asked me once to leave Fuzzy with you, and I refused.
+I couldn't see then how I could possibly do without him;<a name="page182" id="page182"></a>
+even the thought was frightening. But now I think I've
+changed my mind."</p>
+
+<p>He reached out and placed Fuzzy gently in the Black
+Doctor's hand. "I want you to keep him," he said. "I don't
+think I'll need him any more. I'll miss him, but I think it
+would be better if I don't have him now. Be good to him,
+and let me visit him once in a while."</p>
+
+<p>The Black Doctor looked at Dal, and then lifted Fuzzy up
+to his own shoulder. For a moment the little creature shivered
+as if afraid. Then he blinked twice at Dal, trustingly, and
+snuggled in comfortably against the Black Doctor's neck.</p>
+
+<p>Without a word Dal turned and walked out of the office.
+As he stepped down the corridor, he waited fearfully for the
+wave of desolation and loneliness he had felt before when
+Fuzzy was away from him.</p>
+
+<p>But there was no hint of those desolate feelings in his
+mind now. And after all, he thought, why should there be?
+He was not a Garvian any longer. He was a Star Surgeon
+from Hospital Earth.</p>
+
+<p>He smiled as he stepped from the elevator into the main
+lobby and crossed through the crowd to the street doors.
+He pulled his scarlet cape tightly around his throat. Drawing
+himself up to the full height of which he was capable, he
+walked out of the building and strode down onto the street.</p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+
+<h3><i>Also by Alan E. Nourse</i></h3>
+
+
+<p class="centre"><span class="smcap">Rocket to Limbo</span></p>
+
+<p class="centre"><span class="smcap">Scavengers in Space</span></p>
+
+<hr class="longer" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Star Surgeon, by Alan Nourse
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Star Surgeon, by Alan Nourse
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Star Surgeon
+
+Author: Alan Nourse
+
+Release Date: June 2, 2006 [EBook #18492]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STAR SURGEON ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Annika Feilbach and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+STAR SURGEON
+
+by
+
+ALAN E. NOURSE
+
+
+[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
+that the copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+DAVID McKAY COMPANY, INC.
+
+NEW YORK
+
+
+COPYRIGHT (C) 1959, 1960 BY ALAN E. NOURSE
+
+_All rights reserved_
+
+LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NO. 60-7199
+
+
+Manufactured in the United States of America
+
+VAN REES PRESS . NEW YORK
+
+
+
+_Typography by Charles M. Todd_
+
+Sixth Printing, April 1973
+
+
+
+Part of this book was published in _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ 1 The Intruder                                       3
+ 2 Hospital Seattle                                  15
+ 3 The Inquisition                                   25
+ 4 The Galactic Pill Peddlers                        37
+ 5 Crisis on Morua VIII                              54
+ 6 Tiger Makes a Promise                             66
+ 7 Alarums and Excursions                            78
+ 8 Plague!                                           98
+ 9 The Incredible People                            107
+10 The Boomerang Clue                               121
+11 Dal Breaks a Promise                             136
+12 The Showdown                                     151
+13 The Trial                                        165
+14 Star Surgeon                                     175
+
+
+
+
+STAR SURGEON
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 1
+
+THE INTRUDER
+
+
+The shuttle plane from the port of Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle had
+already gone when Dal Timgar arrived at the loading platform, even
+though he had taken great pains to be at least thirty minutes early for
+the boarding.
+
+"You'll just have to wait for the next one," the clerk at the
+dispatcher's desk told him unsympathetically. "There's nothing else you
+can do."
+
+"But I _can't_ wait," Dal said. "I have to be in Hospital Seattle by
+morning." He pulled out the flight schedule and held it under the
+clerk's nose. "Look there! The shuttle wasn't supposed to leave for
+another forty-five minutes!"
+
+The clerk blinked at the schedule, and shrugged. "The seats were full,
+so it left," he said. "Graduation time, you know. Everybody has to be
+somewhere else, right away. The next shuttle goes in three hours."
+
+"But I had a reservation on this one," Dal insisted.
+
+"Don't be silly," the clerk said sharply. "Only graduates can get
+reservations this time of year--" He broke off to stare at Dal Timgar,
+a puzzled frown on his face. "Let me see that reservation."
+
+Dal fumbled in his pants pocket for the yellow reservation slip. He was
+wishing now that he'd kept his mouth shut. He was acutely conscious of
+the clerk's suspicious stare, and suddenly he felt extremely awkward.
+The Earth-cut trousers had never really fit Dal very well; his legs were
+too long and spindly, and his hips too narrow to hold the pants up
+properly. The tailor in the Philadelphia shop had tried three times to
+make a jacket fit across Dal's narrow shoulders, and finally had given
+up in despair. Now, as he handed the reservation slip across the
+counter, Dal saw the clerk staring at the fine gray fur that coated the
+back of his hand and arm. "Here it is," he said angrily. "See for
+yourself."
+
+The clerk looked at the slip and handed it back indifferently. "It's a
+valid reservation, all right, but there won't be another shuttle to
+Hospital Seattle for three hours," he said, "unless you have a priority
+card, of course."
+
+"No, I'm afraid I don't," Dal said. It was a ridiculous suggestion, and
+the clerk knew it. Only physicians in the Black Service of Pathology and
+a few Four-star Surgeons had the power to commandeer public aircraft
+whenever they wished. "Can I get on the next shuttle?"
+
+"You can try," the clerk said, "but you'd better be ready when they
+start loading. You can wait up on the ramp if you want to."
+
+Dal turned and started across the main concourse of the great airport.
+He felt a stir of motion at his side, and looked down at the small pink
+fuzz-ball sitting in the crook of his arm. "Looks like we're out of
+luck, pal," he said gloomily. "If we don't get on the next plane, we'll
+miss the hearing altogether. Not that it's going to do us much good to
+be there anyway."
+
+The little pink fuzz-ball on his arm opened a pair of black shoe-button
+eyes and blinked up at him, and Dal absently stroked the tiny creature
+with a finger. The fuzz-ball quivered happily and clung closer to Dal's
+side as he started up the long ramp to the observation platform.
+Automatic doors swung open as he reached the top, and Dal shivered in
+the damp night air. He could feel the gray fur that coated his back and
+neck rising to protect him from the coldness and dampness that his body
+was never intended by nature to endure.
+
+Below him the bright lights of the landing fields and terminal buildings
+of the port of Philadelphia spread out in panorama, and he thought with
+a sudden pang of the great space-port in his native city, so very
+different from this one and so unthinkably far away. The field below was
+teeming with activity, alive with men and vehicles. Moments before, one
+of Earth's great hospital ships had landed, returning from a cruise deep
+into the heart of the galaxy, bringing in the gravely ill from a dozen
+star systems for care in one of Earth's hospitals. Dal watched as the
+long line of stretchers poured from the ship's hold with white-clad
+orderlies in nervous attendance. Some of the stretchers were encased in
+special atmosphere tanks; a siren wailed across the field as an
+emergency truck raced up with fresh gas bottles for a chlorine-breather
+from the Betelgeuse system, and a derrick crew spent fifteen minutes
+lifting down the special liquid ammonia tank housing a native of
+Aldebaran's massive sixteenth planet.
+
+All about the field were physicians supervising the process of
+disembarcation, resplendent in the colors that signified their medical
+specialties. At the foot of the landing crane a Three-star Internist in
+the green cape of the Medical Service--obviously the commander of the
+ship--was talking with the welcoming dignitaries of Hospital Earth.
+Half a dozen doctors in the Blue Service of Diagnosis were checking new
+lab supplies ready to be loaded aboard. Three young Star Surgeons swung
+by just below Dal with their bright scarlet capes fluttering in the
+breeze, headed for customs and their first Earthside liberty in months.
+Dal watched them go by, and felt the sick, bitter feeling in the pit of
+his stomach that he had felt so often in recent months.
+
+He had dreamed, once, of wearing the scarlet cape of the Red Service of
+Surgery too, with the silver star of the Star Surgeon on his collar.
+That had been a long time ago, over eight Earth years ago; the dream had
+faded slowly, but now the last vestige of hope was almost gone. He
+thought of the long years of intensive training he had just completed in
+the medical school of Hospital Philadelphia, the long nights of studying
+for exams, the long days spent in the laboratories and clinics in order
+to become a physician of Hospital Earth, and a wave of bitterness swept
+through his mind.
+
+_A dream_, he thought hopelessly, _a foolish idea and nothing more. They
+knew before I started that they would never let me finish. They had no
+intention of doing so, it just amused them to watch me beat my head on a
+stone wall for these eight years._ But then he shook his head and felt a
+little ashamed of the thought. It wasn't quite true, and he knew it. He
+had known that it was a gamble from the very first. Black Doctor
+Arnquist had warned him the day he received his notice of admission to
+the medical school. "I can promise you nothing," the old man had said,
+"except a slender chance. There are those who will fight to the very end
+to prevent you from succeeding, and when it's all over, you may not win.
+But if you are willing to take that risk, at least you have a chance."
+
+Dal had accepted the risk with his eyes wide open. He had done the best
+he could do, and now he had lost. True, he had not received the final,
+irrevocable word that he had been expelled from the medical service of
+Hospital Earth, but he was certain now that it was waiting for him when
+he arrived at Hospital Seattle the following morning.
+
+The loading ramp was beginning to fill up, and Dal saw half a dozen of
+his classmates from the medical school burst through the door from the
+station below, shifting their day packs from their shoulders and
+chattering among themselves. Several of them saw him, standing by
+himself against the guard rail. One or two nodded coolly and turned
+away; the others just ignored him. Nobody greeted him, nor even smiled.
+Dal turned away and stared down once again at the busy activity on the
+field below.
+
+"Why so gloomy, friend?" a voice behind him said. "You look as though
+the ship left without you."
+
+Dal looked up at the tall, dark-haired young man, towering at his side,
+and smiled ruefully. "Hello, Tiger! As a matter of fact, it _did_ leave.
+I'm waiting for the next one."
+
+"Where to?" Frank Martin frowned down at Dal. Known as "Tiger" to
+everyone but the professors, the young man's nickname fit him well. He
+was big, even for an Earthman, and his massive shoulders and stubborn
+jaw only served to emphasize his bigness. Like the other recent
+graduates on the platform, he was wearing the colored cuff and collar of
+the probationary physician, in the bright green of the Green Service of
+Medicine. He reached out a huge hand and gently rubbed the pink
+fuzz-ball sitting on Dal's arm. "What's the trouble, Dal? Even Fuzzy
+looks worried. Where's your cuff and collar?"
+
+"I didn't get any cuff and collar," Dal said.
+
+"Didn't you get an assignment?" Tiger stared at him. "Or are you just
+taking a leave first?"
+
+Dal shook his head. "A permanent leave, I guess," he said bitterly.
+"There's not going to be any assignment for me. Let's face it, Tiger.
+I'm washed out."
+
+"Oh, now look here--"
+
+"I mean it. I've been booted, and that's all there is to it."
+
+"But you've been in the top ten in the class right through!" Tiger
+protested. "You know you passed your finals. What is this, anyway?"
+
+Dal reached into his jacket and handed Tiger a blue paper envelope. "I
+should have expected it from the first. They sent me this instead of my
+cuff and collar."
+
+Tiger opened the envelope. "From Doctor Tanner," he grunted. "The Black
+Plague himself. But what is it?"
+
+"Read it," Dal said.
+
+"'You are hereby directed to appear before the medical training council
+in the council chambers in Hospital Seattle at 10:00 A.M., Friday, June
+24, 2375, in order that your application for assignment to a General
+Practice Patrol ship may be reviewed. Insignia will not be worn. Signed,
+Hugo Tanner, Physician, Black Service of Pathology.'" Tiger blinked at
+the notice and handed it back to Dal. "I don't get it," he said finally.
+"You applied, you're as qualified as any of us--"
+
+"Except in one way," Dal said, "and that's the way that counts. They
+don't want me, Tiger. They have never wanted me. They only let me go
+through school because Black Doctor Arnquist made an issue of it, and
+they didn't quite dare to veto him. But they never intended to let me
+finish, not for a minute."
+
+For a moment the two were silent, staring down at the busy landing
+procedures below. A warning light was flickering across the field,
+signaling the landing of an incoming shuttle ship, and the supply cars
+broke from their positions in center of the field and fled like beetles
+for the security of the garages. A loudspeaker blared, announcing the
+incoming craft. Dal Timgar turned, lifting Fuzzy gently from his arm
+into a side jacket pocket and shouldering his day pack. "I guess this is
+my flight, Tiger. I'd better get in line."
+
+Tiger Martin gripped Dal's slender four-fingered hand tightly. "Look,"
+he said intensely, "this is some sort of mistake that the training
+council will straighten out. I'm sure of it. Lots of guys have their
+applications reviewed. It happens all the time, but they still get their
+assignments."
+
+"Do you know of any others in this class? Or the last class?"
+
+"Maybe not," Tiger said. "But if they were washing you out, why would
+the council be reviewing it? Somebody must be fighting for you."
+
+"But Black Doctor Tanner is on the council," Dal said.
+
+"He's not the only one on the council. It's going to work out. You'll
+see."
+
+"I hope so," Dal said without conviction. He started for the loading
+line, then turned. "But where are _you_ going to be? What ship?"
+
+Tiger hesitated. "Not assigned yet. I'm taking a leave. But you'll be
+hearing from me."
+
+The loading call blared from the loudspeaker. The tall Earthman seemed
+about to say something more, but Dal turned away and headed across
+toward the line for the shuttle plane. Ten minutes later, he was aloft
+as the tiny plane speared up through the black night sky and turned its
+needle nose toward the west.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He tried to sleep, but couldn't. The shuttle trip from the Port of
+Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle was almost two hours long because of
+passenger stops at Hospital Cleveland, Eisenhower City, New Chicago, and
+Hospital Billings. In spite of the help of the pneumatic seats and a
+sleep-cap, Dal could not even doze. It was one of the perfect clear
+nights that often occurred in midsummer now that weather control could
+modify Earth's air currents so well; the stars glittered against the
+black velvet backdrop above, and the North American continent was free
+of clouds. Dal stared down at the patchwork of lights that flickered up
+at him from the ground below.
+
+Passing below him were some of the great cities, the hospitals, the
+research and training centers, the residential zones and supply centers
+of Hospital Earth, medical center to the powerful Galactic
+Confederation, physician in charge of the health of a thousand
+intelligent races on a thousand planets of a thousand distant star
+systems. Here, he knew, was the ivory tower of galactic medicine, the
+hub from which the medical care of the confederation arose. From the
+huge hospitals, research centers, and medical schools here, the
+physicians of Hospital Earth went out to all corners of the galaxy. In
+the permanent outpost clinics, in the gigantic hospital ships that
+served great sectors of the galaxy, and in the General Practice Patrol
+ships that roved from star system to star system, they answered the
+calls for medical assistance from a multitude of planets and races,
+wherever and whenever they were needed.
+
+Dal Timgar had been on Hospital Earth for eight years, and still he was
+a stranger here. To him this was an alien planet, different in a
+thousand ways from the world where he was born and grew to manhood. For
+a moment now he thought of his native home, the second planet of a hot
+yellow star which Earthmen called "Garv" because they couldn't pronounce
+its full name in the Garvian tongue. Unthinkably distant, yet only days
+away with the power of the star-drive motors that its people had
+developed thousands of years before, Garv II was a warm planet, teeming
+with activity, the trading center of the galaxy and the governmental
+headquarters of the powerful Galactic Confederation of Worlds. Dal could
+remember the days before he had come to Hospital Earth, and the many
+times he had longed desperately to be home again.
+
+He drew his fuzzy pink friend out of his pocket and rested him on his
+shoulder, felt the tiny silent creature rub happily against his neck. It
+had been his own decision to come here, Dal knew; there was no one else
+to blame. His people were not physicians. Their instincts and interests
+lay in trading and politics, not in the life sciences, and plague after
+plague had swept across his home planet in the centuries before Hospital
+Earth had been admitted as a probationary member of the Galactic
+Confederation.
+
+But as long as Dal could remember, he had wanted to be a doctor. From
+the first time he had seen a General Practice Patrol ship landing in his
+home city to fight the plague that was killing his people by the
+thousands, he had known that this was what he wanted more than anything
+else: to be a physician of Hospital Earth, to join the ranks of the
+doctors who were serving the galaxy.
+
+Many on Earth had tried to stop him from the first. He was a Garvian,
+alien to Earth's climate and Earth's people. The physical differences
+between Earthmen and Garvians were small, but just enough to set him
+apart and make him easily identifiable as an alien. He had one too few
+digits on his hands; his body was small and spindly, weighing a bare
+ninety pounds, and the coating of fine gray fur that covered all but his
+face and palms annoyingly grew longer and thicker as soon as he came to
+the comparatively cold climate of Hospital Earth to live. The bone
+structure of his face gave his cheeks and nose a flattened appearance,
+and his pale gray eyes seemed abnormally large and wistful. And even
+though it had long been known that Earthmen and Garvians were equal in
+range of intelligence, his classmates still assumed just from his
+appearance that he was either unusually clever or unusually stupid.
+
+The gulf that lay between him and the men of Earth went beyond mere
+physical differences, however. Earthmen had differences of skin color,
+facial contour and physical size among them, yet made no sign of
+distinction. Dal's alienness went deeper. His classmates had been civil
+enough, yet with one or two exceptions, they had avoided him carefully.
+Clearly they resented his presence in their lecture rooms and
+laboratories. Clearly they felt that he did not belong there, studying
+medicine.
+
+From the first they had let him know unmistakably that he was unwelcome,
+an intruder in their midst, the first member of an alien race ever to
+try to earn the insignia of a physician of Hospital Earth.
+
+And now, Dal knew he had failed after all. He had been allowed to try
+only because a powerful physician in the Black Service of Pathology had
+befriended him. If it had not been for the friendship and support of
+another Earthman in the class, Tiger Martin, the eight years of study
+would have been unbearably lonely.
+
+But now, he thought, it would have been far easier never to have started
+than to have his goal snatched away at the last minute. The notice of
+the council meeting left no doubt in his mind. He had failed. There
+would be lots of talk, some perfunctory debate for the sake of the
+record, and the medical council would wash their hands of him once and
+for all. The decision, he was certain, was already made. It was just a
+matter of going through the formal motions.
+
+Dal felt the motors change in pitch, and the needle-nosed shuttle plane
+began to dip once more toward the horizon. Ahead he could see the
+sprawling lights of Hospital Seattle, stretching from the Cascade
+Mountains to the sea and beyond, north to Alaska and south toward the
+great California metropolitan centers. Somewhere down there was a
+council room where a dozen of the most powerful physicians on Hospital
+Earth, now sleeping soundly, would be meeting tomorrow for a trial that
+was already over, to pass a judgment that was already decided.
+
+He slipped Fuzzy back into his pocket, shouldered his pack, and waited
+for the ship to come down for its landing. It would be nice, he thought
+wryly, if his reservations for sleeping quarters in the students'
+barracks might at least be honored, but now he wasn't even sure of that.
+
+In the port of Seattle he went through the customary baggage check. He
+saw the clerk frown at his ill-fitting clothes and not-quite-human face,
+and then read his passage permit carefully before brushing him on
+through. Then he joined the crowd of travelers heading for the city
+subways. He didn't hear the loudspeaker blaring until the announcer had
+stumbled over his name half a dozen times.
+
+"_Doctor Dal Timgar, please report to the information booth._"
+
+He hurried back to central information. "You were paging me. What is
+it?"
+
+"Telephone message, sir," the announcer said, his voice surprisingly
+respectful. "A top priority call. Just a minute."
+
+Moments later he had handed Dal the yellow telephone message sheet, and
+Dal was studying the words with a puzzled frown:
+
+      CALL AT MY QUARTERS ON ARRIVAL REGARDLESS OF HOUR STOP
+      URGENT THAT I SEE YOU STOP REPEAT URGENT
+
+The message was signed THORVOLD ARNQUIST, BLACK SERVICE and carried the
+priority seal of the Four-star Pathologist. Dal read it again, shifted
+his pack, and started once more for the subway ramp. He thrust the
+message into his pocket, and his step quickened as he heard the whistle
+of the pressure-tube trains up ahead.
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist, the man who had first defended his right to study
+medicine on Hospital Earth, now wanted to see him before the council
+meeting took place.
+
+For the first time in days, Dal Timgar felt a new flicker of hope.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 2
+
+HOSPITAL SEATTLE
+
+
+It was a long way from the students' barracks to the pathology sector
+where Black Doctor Arnquist lived. Dal Timgar decided not to try to go
+to the barracks first. It was after midnight, and even though the
+message had said "regardless of hour," Dal shrank from the thought of
+awakening a physician of the Black Service at two o'clock in the
+morning. He was already later arriving at Hospital Seattle than he had
+expected to be, and quite possibly Black Doctor Arnquist would be
+retiring. It seemed better to go there without delay.
+
+But one thing took priority. He found a quiet spot in the waiting room
+near the subway entrance and dug into his day pack for the pressed
+biscuit and the canister of water he had there. He broke off a piece of
+the biscuit and held it up for Fuzzy to see.
+
+Fuzzy wriggled down onto his hand, and a tiny mouth appeared just below
+the shoe-button eyes. Bit by bit Dal fed his friend the biscuit, with
+squirts of water in between bites. Finally, when the biscuit was gone,
+Dal squirted the rest of the water into Fuzzy's mouth and rubbed him
+between the eyes. "Feel better now?" he asked.
+
+The creature seemed to understand; he wriggled in Dal's hand and blinked
+his eyes sleepily. "All right, then," Dal said. "Off to sleep."
+
+Dal started to tuck him back into his jacket pocket, but Fuzzy abruptly
+sprouted a pair of forelegs and began struggling fiercely to get out
+again. Dal grinned and replaced the little creature in the crook of his
+arm. "Don't like that idea so well, eh? Okay, friend. If you want to
+watch, that suits me."
+
+He found a map of the city at the subway entrance, and studied it
+carefully. Like other hospital cities on Earth, Seattle was primarily a
+center for patient care and treatment rather than a supply or
+administrative center. Here in Seattle special facilities existed for
+the care of the intelligent marine races that required specialized
+hospital care. The depths of Puget Sound served as a vast aquatic ward
+system where creatures which normally lived in salt-water oceans on
+their native planets could be cared for, and the specialty physicians
+who worked with marine races had facilities here for research and
+teaching in their specialty. The dry-land sectors of the hospital were
+organized to support the aquatic wards; the surgeries, the laboratories,
+the pharmacies and living quarters all were arranged on the periphery of
+the salt-water basin, and rapid-transit tubes carried medical workers,
+orderlies, nurses and physicians to the widespread areas of the hospital
+city.
+
+The pathology sector lay to the north of the city, and Black Doctor
+Arnquist was the chief pathologist of Hospital Seattle. Dal found a
+northbound express tube, climbed into an empty capsule, and pressed the
+buttons for the pathology sector. Presently the capsule was shifted
+automatically into the pressure tube that would carry him thirty miles
+north to his destination.
+
+It was the first time Dal had ever visited a Black Doctor in his
+quarters, and the idea made him a little nervous. Of all the medical
+services on Hospital Earth, none had the power of the Black Service of
+Pathology. Traditionally in Earth medicine, the pathologists had always
+occupied a position of power and discipline. The autopsy rooms had
+always been the "Temples of Truth" where the final, inarguable answers
+in medicine were ultimately found, and for centuries pathologists had
+been the judges and inspectors of the profession of medicine.
+
+And when Earth had become Hospital Earth, with status as a probationary
+member of the Galactic Confederation of Worlds, it was natural that the
+Black Service of Pathology had become the governors and policy-makers,
+regimenting every aspect of the medical services provided by Earth
+physicians.
+
+Dal knew that the medical training council, which would be reviewing his
+application in just a few hours, was made up of physicians from all the
+services--the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of Diagnosis,
+the Red Service of Surgery, as well as the Auxiliary Services--but the
+Black Doctors who sat on the council would have the final say, the final
+veto power.
+
+He wondered now why Black Doctor Arnquist wanted to see him. At first he
+had thought there might be special news for him, word perhaps that his
+assignment had come through after all, that the interview tomorrow would
+not be held. But on reflection, he realized that didn't make sense. If
+that were the case, Doctor Arnquist would have said so, and directed him
+to report to a ship. More likely, he thought, the Black Doctor wanted
+to see him only to soften the blow, to help him face the decision that
+seemed inevitable.
+
+He left the pneumatic tube and climbed on the jitney that wound its way
+through the corridors of the pathology sector and into the quiet,
+austere quarters of the resident pathologists. He found the proper
+concourse, and moments later he was pressing his thumb against the
+identification plate outside the Black Doctor's personal quarters.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist looked older now than when Dal had last
+seen him. His silvery gray hair was thinning, and there were tired lines
+around his eyes and mouth that Dal did not remember from before. The old
+man's body seemed more wispy and frail than ever, and the black cloak
+across his shoulders rustled as he led Dal back into a book-lined study.
+
+The Black Doctor had not yet gone to bed. On a desk in the corner of the
+study several books lay open, and a roll of paper was inserted in the
+dicto-typer. "I knew you would get the message when you arrived," he
+said as he took Dal's pack, "and I thought you might be later than you
+planned. A good trip, I trust. And your friend here? He enjoys shuttle
+travel?" He smiled and stroked Fuzzy with a gnarled finger. "I suppose
+you wonder why I wanted to see you."
+
+Dal Timgar nodded slowly. "About the interview tomorrow?"
+
+"Ah, yes. The interview." The Black Doctor made a sour face and shook
+his head. "A bad business for you, that interview. How do you feel about
+it?"
+
+Dal spread his hands helplessly. As always, the Black Doctor's questions
+cut through the trimming to the heart of things. They were always
+difficult questions to answer.
+
+"I ... I suppose it's something that's necessary," he said finally.
+
+"Oh?" the Black Doctor frowned. "But why necessary for you if not for
+the others? How many were there in your class, including all the
+services? Three hundred? And out of the three hundred only one was
+refused assignment." He looked up sharply at Dal, his pale blue eyes
+very alert in his aged face. "Right?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you really feel it's just normal procedure that your application is
+being challenged?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How _do_ you feel about it, Dal? Angry, maybe?"
+
+Dal squirmed. "Yes, sir. You might say that."
+
+"Perhaps even bitter," the Black Doctor said.
+
+"I did as good work as anyone else in my class," Dal said hotly. "I did
+my part as well as anyone could, I didn't let up once all the way
+through. Bitter! Wouldn't you feel bitter?"
+
+The Black Doctor nodded slowly. "Yes, I imagine I would," he said,
+sinking down into the chair behind the desk with a sigh. "As a matter of
+fact, I do feel a little bitter about it, even though I was afraid that
+it might come to this in the end. I can't blame you for your feelings."
+He took a deep breath. "I wish I could promise you that everything would
+be all right tomorrow, but I'm afraid I can't. The council has a right
+to review your qualifications, and it holds the power to assign you to a
+patrol ship on the spot, if it sees fit. Conceivably, a Black Doctor
+might force the council's approval, if he were the only representative
+of the Black service there. But I will not be the only Black Doctor
+sitting on the council tomorrow."
+
+"I know that," Dal said.
+
+Doctor Arnquist looked up at Dal for a long moment. "Why do you want to
+be a doctor in the first place, Dal? This isn't the calling of your
+people. You must be the one Garvian out of millions with the patience
+and peculiar mental make-up to permit you to master the scientific
+disciplines involved in studying medicine. Either you are different from
+the rest of your people--which I doubt--or else you are driven to force
+yourself into a pattern foreign to your nature for very compelling
+reasons. What are they? Why do you want medicine?"
+
+It was the hardest question of all, the question Dal had dreaded. He
+knew the answer, just as he had known for most of his life that he
+wanted to be a doctor above all else. But he had never found a way to
+put the reasons into words. "I can't say," he said slowly. "I _know_,
+but I can't express it, and whenever I try, it just sounds silly."
+
+"Maybe your reasons don't make reasonable sense," the old man said
+gently.
+
+"But they do! At least to me, they do," Dal said. "I've always wanted to
+be a doctor. There's nothing else I want to do. To work at home, among
+my people."
+
+"There was a plague on Garv II, wasn't there?" Doctor Arnquist said. "A
+cyclic thing that came back again and again. The cycle was broken just a
+few years ago, when the virus that caused it was finally isolated and
+destroyed."
+
+"By the physicians of Hospital Earth," Dal said.
+
+"It's happened again and again," the Black Doctor said. "We've seen the
+same pattern repeated a thousand times across the galaxy, and it has
+always puzzled us, just a little." He smiled. "You see, our knowledge
+and understanding of the life sciences here on Earth have always grown
+hand in hand with the physical sciences. We had always assumed that the
+same thing would happen on _any_ planet where a race has developed
+intelligence and scientific methods of study. We were wrong, of course,
+which is the reason for the existence of Hospital Earth and her
+physicians today, but it still amazes us that with all the technology
+and civilization in the galaxy, we Earthmen are the only people yet
+discovered who have developed a broad knowledge of the processes of life
+and illness and death."
+
+The old man looked up at his visitor, and Dal felt his pale blue eyes
+searching his face. "How badly do you want to be a doctor, Dal?"
+
+"More than anything else I know," Dal said.
+
+"Badly enough to do anything to achieve your goal?"
+
+Dal hesitated, and stroked Fuzzy's head gently. "Well ... almost
+anything."
+
+The Black Doctor nodded. "And that, of course, is the reason I had to
+see you before this interview, my friend. I know you've played the game
+straight right from the beginning, up to this point. Now I beg of you
+not to do the thing that you are thinking of doing."
+
+For a moment Dal just stared at the little old man in black, and felt
+the fur on his arms and back rise up. A wave of panic flooded his mind.
+_He knows!_ he thought frantically. _He must be able to read minds!_ But
+he thrust the idea away. There was no way that the Black Doctor could
+know. No race of creatures in the galaxy had _that_ power. And yet there
+was no doubt that Black Doctor Arnquist knew what Dal had been thinking,
+just as surely as if he had said it aloud.
+
+Dal shook his head helplessly. "I ... I don't know what you mean."
+
+"I think you do," Doctor Arnquist said. "Please, Dal. Trust me. This is
+not the time to lie. The thing that you were planning to do at the
+interview would be disastrous, even if it won you an assignment. It
+would be dishonest and unworthy."
+
+_Then he does know!_ Dal thought. _But how? I couldn't have told him, or
+given him any hint._ He felt Fuzzy give a frightened shiver on his arm,
+and then words were tumbling out of his mouth. "I don't know what you're
+talking about, there wasn't anything I was thinking of. I mean, what
+could I do? If the council wants to assign me to a ship, they will, and
+if they don't, they won't. I don't know what you're thinking of."
+
+"Please." Black Doctor Arnquist held up his hand. "Naturally you defend
+yourself," he said. "I can't blame you for that, and I suppose this is
+an unforgivable breach of diplomacy even to mention it to you, but I
+think it must be done. Remember that we have been studying and observing
+your people very carefully over the past two hundred years, Dal. It is
+no accident that you have such a warm attachment to your little pink
+friend here, and it is no accident that wherever a Garvian is found, his
+Fuzzy is with him, isn't that so? And it is no accident that your people
+are such excellent tradesmen, that you are so remarkably skillful in
+driving bargains favorable to yourselves ... that you are in fact the
+most powerful single race of creatures in the whole Galactic
+Confederation."
+
+The old man walked to the bookshelves behind him and brought down a
+thick, bound manuscript. He handed it across the desk as Dal watched
+him. "You may read this if you like, at your leisure. Don't worry, it's
+not for publication, just a private study which I have never mentioned
+before to anyone, but the pattern is unmistakable. This peculiar talent
+of your people is difficult to describe: not really telepathy, but an
+ability to create the emotional responses in others that will be most
+favorable to you. Just what part your Fuzzies play in this ability of
+your people I am not sure, but I'm quite certain that without them you
+would not have it."
+
+He smiled at Dal's stricken face. "A forbidden topic, eh? And yet
+perfectly true. You know right now that if you wanted to you could
+virtually paralyze me with fright, render me helpless to do anything but
+stand here and shiver, couldn't you? Or if I were hostile to your
+wishes, you could suddenly force me to sympathize with you and like you
+enormously, until I was ready to agree to anything you wanted--"
+
+"No," Dal broke in. "Please, you don't understand! I've never done it,
+not once since I came to Hospital Earth."
+
+"I know that. I've been watching you."
+
+"And I wouldn't think of doing it."
+
+"Not even at the council interview?"
+
+"Never!"
+
+"Then let me have Fuzzy now. He is the key to this special talent of
+your people. Give him to me now, and go to the interview without him."
+
+Dal drew back, trembling, trying to fight down panic. He brought his
+hand around to the soft fur of the little pink fuzz-ball. "I ... can't
+do that," he said weakly.
+
+"Not even if it meant your assignment to a patrol ship?"
+
+Dal hesitated, then shook his head. "Not even then. But I won't do what
+you're saying, I promise you."
+
+For a long moment Black Doctor Arnquist stared at him. Then he smiled.
+"Will you give me your word?
+
+"Yes, I promise."
+
+"Then I wish you good luck. I will do what I can at the interview. But
+now there is a bed for you here. You will need sleep if you are to
+present your best appearance."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 3
+
+THE INQUISITION
+
+
+The interview was held in the main council chambers of Hospital Seattle,
+and Dal could feel the tension the moment he stepped into the room. He
+looked at the long semicircular table, and studied the impassive faces
+of the four-star Physicians across the table from him.
+
+Each of the major medical services was represented this morning. In the
+center, presiding over the council, was a physician of the White
+Service, a Four-star Radiologist whose insignia gleamed on his
+shoulders. There were two physicians each, representing the Red Service
+of Surgery, the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of
+Diagnosis, and finally, seated at either end of the table, the
+representatives of the Black Service of Pathology. Black Doctor Thorvold
+Arnquist sat to Dal's left; he smiled faintly as the young Garvian
+stepped forward, then busied himself among the papers on the desk before
+him. To Dal's right sat another Black Doctor who was not smiling.
+
+Dal had seen him before--the chief co-ordinator of medical education on
+Hospital Earth, the "Black Plague" of the medical school jokes. Black
+Doctor Hugo Tanner was large and florid of face, blinking owlishly at
+Dal over his heavy horn-rimmed glasses. The glasses were purely
+decorative; with modern eye-cultures and transplant techniques, no
+Earthman had really needed glasses to correct his vision for the past
+two hundred years, but on Hugo Tanner's angry face they added a look of
+gravity and solemnity that the Black Doctor could not achieve without
+them. Still glaring at Dal, Doctor Tanner leaned over to speak to the
+Blue Doctor on his right, and they nodded and laughed unpleasantly at
+some private joke.
+
+There was no place for him to sit, so Dal stood before the table, as
+straight as his five-foot height would allow him. He had placed Fuzzy
+almost defiantly on his shoulder, and from time to time he could feel
+the little creature quiver and huddle against his neck as though to hide
+from sight under his collar.
+
+The White Doctor opened the proceedings, and at first the questions were
+entirely medical. "We are meeting to consider this student's application
+for assignment to a General Practice Patrol ship, as a probationary
+physician in the Red Service of Surgery. I believe you are all
+acquainted with his educational qualifications?"
+
+There was an impatient murmur around the table. The White Doctor looked
+up at Dal. "Your name, please?"
+
+"Dal Timgar, sir."
+
+"Your _full_ name," Black Doctor Tanner rumbled from the right-hand end
+of the table.
+
+Dal took a deep breath and began to give his full Garvian name. It was
+untranslatable and unpronounceable to Earthmen, who could not reproduce
+the sequence of pops and whistles that made up the Garvian tongue. The
+doctors listened, blinking, as the complex family structure and
+ancestry which entered into every Garvian's full name continued to roll
+from Dal's lips. He was entering into the third generation removed of
+his father's lineage when Doctor Tanner held up his hand.
+
+"All right, all right! We will accept the abbreviated name you have used
+on Hospital Earth. Let it be clear on the record that the applicant is a
+native of the second planet of the Garv system." The Black Doctor
+settled back in his chair and began whispering again to the Blue Doctor
+next to him.
+
+A Green Doctor cleared his throat. "Doctor Timgar, what do you consider
+to be the basic principle that underlies the work and services of
+physicians of Hospital Earth?"
+
+It was an old question, a favorite on freshman medical school
+examinations. "The principle that environments and life forms in the
+universe may be dissimilar, but that biochemical reactions are universal
+throughout creation," Dal said slowly.
+
+"Well memorized," Black Doctor Tanner said sourly. "What does it mean?"
+
+"It means that the principles of chemistry, physiology, pathology and
+the other life sciences, once understood, can be applied to any living
+creature in the universe, and will be found valid," Dal said. "As
+different as the various life forms may be, the basic life processes in
+one life form are the same, under different conditions, as the life
+processes in any other life form, just as hydrogen and oxygen will
+combine to form water anywhere in the universe where the proper physical
+conditions prevail."
+
+"Very good, very good," the Green Doctor said. "But tell me this: what
+in your opinion is the place of surgery in a Galactic practice of
+medicine?"
+
+A more difficult question, but one that Dal's training had prepared him
+well to answer. He answered it, and faced another question, and another.
+One by one, the doctors interrogated him, Black Doctor Arnquist among
+them. The questions came faster and faster; some were exceedingly
+difficult. Once or twice Dal was stopped cold, and forced to admit that
+he did not know the answer. Other questions which he knew would stop
+other students happened to fall in fields he understood better than
+most, and his answers were full and succinct.
+
+But finally the questioning tapered off, and the White Doctor shuffled
+his papers impatiently. "If there are no further medical questions, we
+can move on to another aspect of this student's application. Certain
+questions of policy have been raised. Black Doctor Tanner had some
+things to say, I believe, as co-ordinator of medical education."
+
+The Black Doctor rose ponderously to his feet. "I have some things to
+say, you can be sure of that," he said, "but they have nothing to do
+with this Dal Timgar's educational qualifications for assignment to a
+General Practice Patrol ship." Black Doctor Tanner paused to glare in
+Dal's direction. "He has been trained in a medical school on Hospital
+Earth, and apparently has passed his final qualifying examinations for
+the Red Service of Surgery. I can't argue about that."
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist's voice came across the room. "Then why are we
+having his review, Hugo? Dal Timgar's classmates all received their
+assignments automatically."
+
+"Because there are other things to consider here than educational
+qualifications," Hugo Tanner said. "Gentlemen, consider our position for
+a moment. We have thousands of probationary physicians abroad in the
+galaxy at the present time, fine young men and women who have been
+trained in medical schools on Hospital Earth, and now are gaining
+experience and judgment while fulfilling our medical service contracts
+in every part of the confederation. They are probationers, but we must
+not forget that we physicians of Hospital Earth are also probationers.
+We are seeking a permanent place in this great Galactic Confederation,
+which was in existence many thousands of years before we even knew of
+its existence. It was not until our own scientists discovered the Koenig
+star-drive, enabling us to break free of our own solar system, that we
+were met face to face with a confederation of intelligent races
+inhabiting the galaxy--among others, the people from whom this same Dal
+Timgar has come."
+
+"The history is interesting," Black Doctor Arnquist broke in, "but
+really, Hugo, I think most of us know it already."
+
+"Maybe we do," Doctor Tanner said, flushing a little. "But the history
+is significant. Permanent membership in the confederation is contingent
+on two qualifications. First, we must have developed a star-drive of our
+own, a qualification of intelligence, if you will. The confederation has
+ruled that only races having a certain level of intelligence can become
+members. A star-drive could only be developed with a far-reaching
+understanding of the physical sciences, so this is a valid criterion of
+intelligence. But the second qualification for confederation membership
+is nothing more nor less than a question of usefulness."
+
+The presiding White Doctor looked up, frowning. "Usefulness?"
+
+"Exactly. The Galactic Confederation, with its exchange of ideas and
+talents, and all the wealth of civilization it has to offer, is based on
+a division of labor. Every member must have something to contribute,
+some special talent. For Earthmen, the talent was obvious very early.
+Our technology was primitive, our manufacturing skills mediocre, our
+transport and communications systems impossible. But in our
+understanding of the life sciences, we have far outstripped any other
+race in the galaxy. We had already solved the major problems of disease
+and longevity among our own people, while some of the most advanced
+races in the confederation were being reduced to helplessness by cyclic
+plagues which slaughtered their populations, and were caused by nothing
+more complex than a simple parasitic virus. Garv II is an excellent
+example."
+
+One of the Red Doctors cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I don't quite see
+the connection. Nobody is arguing about our skill as doctors."
+
+"Of course not," Black Doctor Tanner said. "The point is that in all the
+galaxy, Earthmen are by their very nature the _best_ doctors,
+outstripping the most advanced physicians on any other planet. And this,
+gentlemen, is our bargaining point. We are useful to the Galactic
+Confederation only as physicians. The confederation needed us badly
+enough to admit us to probational membership, but if we ever hope to
+become full members of the confederation, we must demonstrate our
+usefulness, our unique skill, as physicians. We have worked hard to
+prove ourselves. We have made Hospital Earth the galactic center of
+study and treatment of diseases of many races. Earthmen on the General
+Practice Patrol ships visit planets in the remotest sections, and their
+reputation as physicians has grown. Every year new planets are writing
+full medical service contracts with us ... as Earthmen serving the
+galaxy--"
+
+"As _physicians_ serving the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist's voice shot
+across the room.
+
+"As far as the confederation has been concerned, the two have been
+synonymous," Hugo Tanner roared. "_Until now._ But now we have an alien
+among us. We have allowed a non-Earthman to train in our medical
+schools. He has completed the required work, his qualifications are
+acceptable, and now he proposes to go out on a patrol ship as a
+physician of the Red Service of Surgery. But think of what you are doing
+if you permit him to go! You will be proving to every planet in the
+confederation that they don't really need Earthmen after all, that any
+race from any planet might produce physicians just as capable as
+Earthmen."
+
+The Black Doctor turned slowly to face Dal, his mouth set in a grim
+line. As he talked, his face had grown dark with anger. "Understand that
+I have nothing against this creature as an individual. Perhaps he would
+prove to be a competent physician, although I cannot believe it. Perhaps
+he would carry on the traditions of medical service we have worked so
+long to establish, although I doubt it. But I do know that if we permit
+him to become a qualified physician, it will be the beginning of the end
+for Hospital Earth. We will be selling out our sole bargaining position.
+We can forget our hopes for membership in the confederation, because one
+like him this year will mean two next year, and ten the next, and there
+will be no end to it. We should have stopped it eight years ago, but
+certain ones prevailed to admit Dal Timgar to training. If we do not
+stop it now, for all time, we will never be able to stop it."
+
+Slowly the Black Doctor sat down, motioning to an orderly at the rear of
+the room. The orderly brought a glass of water and a small capsule which
+Black Doctor Tanner gulped down. The other doctors were talking heatedly
+among themselves as Black Doctor Arnquist rose to his feet. "Then you
+are claiming that our highest calling is to keep medicine in the hands
+of Earthmen alone?" he asked softly.
+
+Doctor Tanner flushed. "Our highest calling is to provide good medical
+care for our patients," he said.
+
+"The best possible medical care?"
+
+"I never said otherwise."
+
+"And yet you deny the ancient tradition that a physician's duty is to
+help his patients help themselves," Black Doctor Arnquist said.
+
+"I said no such thing!" Hugo Tanner cried, jumping to his feet. "But we
+must protect ourselves. We have no other power, nothing else to sell."
+
+"And I say that if we must sell our medical skill for our own benefit
+first, then we are not worthy to be physicians to anyone," Doctor
+Arnquist snapped. "You make a very convincing case, but if we examine it
+closely, we see that it amounts to nothing but fear and selfishness."
+
+"Fear?" Doctor Tanner cried. "What do we have to fear if we can maintain
+our position? But if we must yield to a Garvian who has no business in
+medicine in the first place, what can we have left but fear?"
+
+"If I were really convinced that Earthmen were the best physicians in
+the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist replied, "I don't think I'd have to
+be afraid."
+
+The Black Doctor at the end of the table stood up, shaking with rage.
+"Listen to him!" he cried to the others. "Once again he is defending
+this creature and turning his back on common sense. All I ask is that we
+keep our skills among our own people and avoid the contamination that
+will surely result--"
+
+Doctor Tanner broke off, his face suddenly white. He coughed, clutching
+at his chest, and sank down groping for his medicine box and the water
+glass. After a moment he caught his breath and shook his head. "There's
+nothing more I can say," he said weakly. "I have done what I could, and
+the decision is up to the rest of you." He coughed again, and slowly the
+color came back into his face. The Blue Doctor had risen to help him,
+but Tanner waved him aside. "No, no, it's nothing. I allowed myself to
+become angry."
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist spread his hands. "Under the circumstances, I
+won't belabor the point," he said, "although I think it would be good if
+Doctor Tanner would pause in his activities long enough for the surgery
+that would make his anger less dangerous to his own life. But he
+represents a view, and his right to state it is beyond reproach." Doctor
+Arnquist looked from face to face along the council table. "The decision
+is yours, gentlemen, I would ask only that you consider what our highest
+calling as physicians really is--a duty that overrides fear and
+selfishness. I believe Dal Timgar would be a good physician, and that
+this is more important than the planet of his origin. I think he would
+uphold the honor of Hospital Earth wherever he went, and give us his
+loyalty as well as his service. I will vote to accept his application,
+and thus cancel out my colleague's negative vote. The deciding votes
+will be cast by the rest of you."
+
+He sat down, and the White Doctor looked at Dal Timgar. "It would be
+good if you would wait outside," he said. "We will call you as soon as a
+decision is reached."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dal waited in an anteroom, feeding Fuzzy and trying to put out of his
+mind for a moment the heated argument still raging in the council
+chamber. Fuzzy was quivering with fright; unable to speak, the tiny
+creature nevertheless clearly experienced emotions, even though Dal
+himself did not know how he received impressions, nor why.
+
+But Dal knew that there was a connection between the tiny pink
+creature's emotions and the peculiar talent that Black Doctor Arnquist
+had spoken of the night before. It was not a telepathic power that Dal
+and his people possessed. Just _what_ it was, was difficult to define,
+yet Dal knew that every Garvian depended upon it to some extent in
+dealing with people around him. He knew that when Fuzzy was sitting on
+his arm he could sense the emotions of those around him--the anger, the
+fear, the happiness, the suspicion--and he knew that under certain
+circumstances, in a way he did not clearly understand, he could wilfully
+change the feelings of others toward himself. Not a great deal, perhaps,
+nor in any specific way, but just enough to make them look upon him and
+his wishes more favorably than they otherwise might.
+
+Throughout his years on Hospital Earth he had vigilantly avoided using
+this strange talent. Already he was different enough from Earthmen in
+appearance, in ways of thinking, in likes and dislikes. But these
+differences were not advantages, and he had realized that if his
+classmates had ever dreamed of the advantage that he had, minor as it
+was, his hopes of becoming a physician would have been destroyed
+completely.
+
+And in the council room he had kept his word to Doctor Arnquist. He had
+felt Fuzzy quivering on his shoulder; he had sensed the bitter anger in
+Black Doctor Tanner's mind, and the temptation deliberately to mellow
+that anger had been almost overwhelming, but he had turned it aside. He
+had answered questions that were asked him, and listened to the debate
+with a growing sense of hopelessness.
+
+And now the chance was gone. The decision was being made.
+
+He paced the floor, trying to remember the expressions of the other
+doctors, trying to remember what had been said, how many had seemed
+friendly and how many hostile, but he knew that only intensified the
+torture. There was nothing he could do now but wait.
+
+At last the door opened, and an orderly nodded to him. Dal felt his legs
+tremble as he walked into the room and faced the semi-circle of doctors.
+He tried to read the answer on their faces, but even Black Doctor
+Arnquist sat impassively, doodling on the pad before him, refusing to
+meet Dal's eyes.
+
+The White Doctor took up a sheet of paper. "We have considered your
+application, and have reached a decision. You will be happy to know that
+your application for assignment has been tentatively accepted."
+
+Dal heard the words, and it seemed as though the room were spinning
+around him. He wanted to shout for joy and throw his arms around Black
+Doctor Arnquist, but he stood perfectly still, and suddenly he noticed
+that Fuzzy was very quiet on his shoulder.
+
+"You will understand that this acceptance is not irrevocable," the White
+Doctor went on. "We are not willing to guarantee your ultimate
+acceptance as a fully qualified Star Surgeon at this point. You will be
+allowed to wear a collar and cuff, uniform and insignia of a
+probationary physician, in the Red Service, and will be assigned aboard
+the General Practice Patrol ship _Lancet_, leaving from Hospital Seattle
+next Tuesday. If you prove your ability in that post, your performance
+will once again be reviewed by this board, but you alone will determine
+our decision then. Your final acceptance as a Star Surgeon will depend
+entirely upon your conduct as a member of the patrol ship's crew." He
+smiled at Dal, and set the paper down. "The council wishes you well. Do
+you have any questions?"
+
+"Just one," Dal managed to say. "Who will my crewmates be?"
+
+"As is customary, a probationer from the Green Service of Medicine and
+one from the Blue Service of Diagnosis. Both have been specially
+selected by this council. Your Blue Doctor will be Jack Alvarez, who has
+shown great promise in his training in diagnostic medicine."
+
+"And the Green Doctor?"
+
+"A young man named Frank Martin," the White Doctor said. "Known to his
+friends, I believe, as 'Tiger.'"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 4
+
+THE GALACTIC PILL PEDDLERS
+
+
+The ship stood tall and straight on her launching pad, with the
+afternoon sunlight glinting on her hull. Half a dozen crews of check-out
+men were swarming about her, inspecting her engine and fuel supplies,
+riding up the gantry crane to her entrance lock, and guiding the great
+cargo nets from the loading crane into her afterhold. High up on her
+hull Dal Timgar could see a golden caduceus emblazoned, the symbol of
+the General Practice Patrol, and beneath it the ship's official name:
+
+      GPPS 238
+      _LANCET_
+
+Dal shifted his day pack down from his shoulders, ridiculously pleased
+with the gleaming scarlet braid on the collar and cuff of his uniform,
+and lifted Fuzzy up on his shoulder to see. It seemed to Dal that
+everyone he had passed in the terminal had been looking at the colorful
+insignia; it was all he could do to keep from holding his arm up and
+waving it like a banner.
+
+"You'll get used to it," Tiger Martin chuckled as they waited for the
+jitney to take them across to the launching pad. "At first you think
+everybody is impressed by the colors, until you see some guy go past
+with the braid all faded and frazzled at the edges, and then you realize
+that you're just the latest greenhorn in a squad of two hundred thousand
+men."
+
+"It's still good to be wearing it," Dal said. "I couldn't really believe
+it until Black Doctor Arnquist turned the collar and cuff over to me."
+He looked suspiciously at Tiger. "You must have known a lot more about
+that interview than you let on. Or, was it just coincidence that we were
+assigned together?"
+
+"Not coincidence, exactly." Tiger grinned. "I didn't know what was going
+to happen. I'd requested assignment with you on my application, and then
+when yours was held up, Doctor Arnquist asked me if I'd be willing to
+wait for assignment until the interview was over. So I said okay. He
+seemed to think you had a pretty good chance."
+
+"I'd never have made it without his backing," Dal said.
+
+"Well, anyway, he figured that if you _were_ assigned, it would be a
+good idea to have a friend on the patrol ship team."
+
+"I won't argue about _that_," Dal said. "But who is the Blue Service
+man?"
+
+Tiger's face darkened. "I don't know much about him," he said. "He
+trained in California, and I met him just once, at a diagnosis and
+therapy conference. He's supposed to be plenty smart, according to the
+grapevine. I guess he'd have to be, to pass Diagnostic Service finals."
+Tiger chuckled. "Any dope can make it in the Medical or Surgical
+Services, but diagnosis is something else again."
+
+"Will he be in command?"
+
+"On the _Lancet_? Why should he? We'll share command, just like any
+patrol ship crew. If we run into problems we can't agree on, we holler
+for help. But if he acts like most of the Blue Doctors I know, he'll
+_think_ he's in command."
+
+A jitney stopped for them, and then zoomed out across the field toward
+the ship. The gantry platform was just clanging to the ground, unloading
+three technicians and a Four-bar Electronics Engineer. Tiger and Dal
+rode the platform up again and moments later stepped through the
+entrance lock of the ship that would be their home base for months and
+perhaps years.
+
+They found the bunk room to the rear of the control and lab sections. A
+duffel bag was already lodged on one of the bunks; one of the foot
+lockers was already occupied, and a small but expensive camera and a
+huge pair of field glasses were hanging from one of the wall brackets.
+
+"Looks like our man has already arrived," Tiger said, tossing down his
+own duffel bag and looking around the cramped quarters. "Not exactly a
+luxury suite, I'd say. Wonder where he is?"
+
+"Let's look up forward," Dal said. "We've plenty to do before we take
+off. Maybe he's just getting an early start."
+
+They explored the ship, working their way up the central corridor past
+the communications and computer rooms and the laboratory into the main
+control and observation room. Here they found a thin, dark-haired young
+man in a bright blue collar and cuff, sitting engrossed with a
+tape-reader.
+
+For a moment they thought he hadn't heard them. Then, as though
+reluctant to tear himself away, the Blue Doctor sighed, snapped off the
+reader, and turned on the swivel stool.
+
+"So!" he said. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get
+here."
+
+"We ran into some delays," Tiger said. He grinned and held out his hand.
+"Jack Alvarez? Tiger Martin. We met each other at that conference in
+Chicago last year."
+
+"Yes, I remember," the Blue Doctor said. "You found some holes in a
+paper I gave. Matter of fact, I've plugged them up very nicely since
+then. You'd have trouble finding fault with the work now." Jack Alvarez
+turned his eyes to Dal. "And I suppose this is the Garvian I've been
+hearing about, complete with his little pink stooge."
+
+The moment they had walked in the door, Dal had felt Fuzzy crouch down
+tight against his shoulder. Now a wave of hostility struck his mind like
+a shower of ice water. He had never seen this thin, dark-haired youth
+before, or even heard of him, but he recognized this sharp impression of
+hatred and anger unmistakably. He had felt it a thousand times among his
+medical school classmates during the past eight years, and just hours
+before he had felt it in the council room when Black Doctor Tanner had
+turned on him.
+
+"It's really a lucky break that we have Dal for a Red Doctor," Tiger
+said. "We almost didn't get him."
+
+"Yes, I heard all about how lucky we are," Jack Alvarez said sourly. He
+looked Dal over from the gray fur on the top of his head to the spindly
+legs in the ill-fitting trousers. Then the Blue Doctor shrugged in
+disgust and turned back to the tape-reader. "A Garvian and his Fuzzy!"
+he muttered. "Let's hope one or the other knows something about
+surgery."
+
+"I think we'll do all right," Dal said slowly.
+
+"I think you'd better," Jack Alvarez replied.
+
+Dal and Tiger looked at each other, and Tiger shrugged. "It's all
+right," he said. "We know our jobs, and we'll manage."
+
+Dal nodded, and started back for the bunk room. No doubt, he thought,
+they would manage.
+
+But if he had thought before that the assignment on the _Lancet_ was
+going to be easy, he knew now that he was wrong.
+
+Tiger Martin may have been Doctor Arnquist's selection as a crewmate for
+him, but there was no question in his mind that the Blue Doctor on the
+_Lancet_'s crew was Black Doctor Hugo Tanner's choice.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The first meeting with Jack Alvarez hardly seemed promising to either
+Dal or Tiger, but if there was trouble coming, it was postponed for the
+moment by common consent. In the few days before blast-off there was no
+time for conflict, or even for much talk. Each of the three crewmen had
+two full weeks of work to accomplish in two days; each knew his job and
+buried himself in it with a will.
+
+The ship's medical and surgical supplies had to be inventoried, and
+missing or required supplies ordered up. New supplies coming in had to
+be checked, tested, and stored in the ship's limited hold space. It was
+like preparing for an extended pack trip into wilderness country; once
+the _Lancet_ left its home base on Hospital Earth it was a world to
+itself, equipped to support its physician-crew and provide the necessary
+equipment and data they would need to deal with the problems they would
+face. Like all patrol ships, the _Lancet_ was equipped with automatic
+launching, navigation and drive mechanisms; no crew other than the
+three doctors was required, and in the event of mechanical failures,
+maintenance ships were on continual call.
+
+The ship was responsible for patrolling an enormous area, including
+hundreds of stars and their planetary systems--yet its territory was
+only a tiny segment of the galaxy. Landings were to be made at various
+specified planets maintaining permanent clinic outposts of Hospital
+Earth; certain staple supplies were carried for each of these check
+points. Aside from these lonely clinic contacts, the nearest port of
+call for the _Lancet_ was one of the hospital ships that continuously
+worked slow orbits through the star systems of the confederation.
+
+But a hospital ship, with its staff of Two-star and Three-star
+Physicians, was not to be called except in cases of extreme need. The
+probationers on the patrol ships were expected to be self-sufficient.
+Their job was to handle diagnosis and care of all but the most difficult
+problems that arose in their travels. They were the first to answer the
+medical calls from any planet with a medical service contract with
+Hospital Earth.
+
+It was an enormous responsibility for doctors-in-training to assume, but
+over the years it had proven the best way to train and weed out new
+doctors for the greater responsibilities of hospital ship and Hospital
+Earth assignments. There was no set period of duty on the patrol ships;
+how long a young doctor remained in the General Practice Patrol depended
+to a large extent upon how well he handled the problems and
+responsibilities that faced him; and since the first years of Hospital
+Earth, the fledgling doctors in the General Practice Patrol--the
+self-styled "Galactic Pill Peddlers"--had lived up to their
+responsibilities. The reputation of Hospital Earth rested on their
+shoulders, and they never forgot it.
+
+As he worked on his inventories, Dal Timgar thought of Doctor Arnquist's
+words to him after the council had handed down its decision. "Remember
+that judgment and skill are two different things," he had said. "Without
+skill in the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment, medical
+judgment isn't much help, but skill without the judgment to know how and
+when to use it can be downright dangerous. You'll be judged both on the
+judgment you use in deciding the right thing to do, and on the skill you
+use in doing it." He had given Dal the box with the coveted collar and
+cuff. "The colors are pretty, but never forget what they stand for.
+Until you can convince the council that you have both the skill and the
+judgment of a good physician, you will never get your Star. And you will
+be watched closely; Black Doctor Tanner and certain others will be
+waiting for the slightest excuse to recall you from the _Lancet_. If you
+give them the opportunity, nothing I can do will stop it."
+
+And now, as they worked to prepare the ship for service, Dal was
+determined that the opportunity would not arise. When he was not working
+in the storerooms, he was in the computer room, reviewing the thousands
+of tapes that carried the basic information about the contract planets
+where they would be visiting, and the races that inhabited them. If
+errors and fumbles and mistakes were made by the crew of the _Lancet_,
+he thought grimly, it would not be Dal Timgar who made them.
+
+The first night they met in the control room to divide the many
+extracurricular jobs involved in maintaining a patrol ship.
+
+Tiger's interest in electronics and communications made him the best man
+to handle the radio; he accepted the post without comment. "Jack, you
+should be in charge of the computer," he said, "because you'll be the
+one who'll need the information first. The lab is probably your field
+too. Dal can be responsible for stores and supplies as well as his own
+surgical instruments."
+
+Jack shrugged. "I'd just as soon handle supplies, too," he said.
+
+"Well, there's no need to overload one man," Tiger said.
+
+"I wouldn't mind that. But when there's something I need, I want to be
+sure it's going to be there without any goof-ups," Jack said.
+
+"I can handle it all right," Dal said.
+
+Jack just scowled. "What about the contact man when we make landings?"
+he asked Tiger.
+
+"Seems to me Dal would be the one for that, too," Tiger said. "His
+people are traders and bargainers; right, Dal? And first contact with
+the people on unfamiliar planets can be important."
+
+"It sure can," Jack said. "Too important to take chances with. Look,
+this is a ship from Hospital Earth. When somebody calls for help, they
+expect to see an Earthman turn up in response. What are they going to
+think when a patrol ship lands and _he_ walks out?"
+
+Tiger's face darkened. "They'll be able to see his collar and cuff,
+won't they?"
+
+"Maybe. But they may wonder what he's doing wearing them."
+
+"Well, they'll just have to learn," Tiger snapped. "And you'll have to
+learn, too, I guess."
+
+Dal had been sitting silently. Now he shook his head. "I think Jack is
+right on this one," he said. "It would be better for one of you to be
+contact man."
+
+"Why?" Tiger said angrily. "You're as much of a doctor from Hospital
+Earth as we are, and the sooner we get your position here straight, the
+better. We aren't going to have any ugly ducklings on this ship, and we
+aren't going to hide you in the hold every time we land on a planet. If
+we want to make anything but a mess of this cruise, we've got to work as
+a team, and that means everybody shares the important jobs."
+
+"That's fine," Dal said, "but I still think Jack is right on this point.
+If we are walking into a medical problem on a planet where the patrol
+isn't too well known, the contact man by rights ought to be an
+Earthman."
+
+Tiger started to say something, and then spread his hands helplessly.
+"Okay," he said. "If you're satisfied with it, let's get on to these
+other things." But obviously he wasn't satisfied, and when Jack
+disappeared toward the storeroom, Tiger turned to Dal. "You shouldn't
+have given in," he said. "If you give that guy as much as an inch,
+you're just asking for trouble."
+
+"It isn't a matter of giving in," Dal insisted. "I think he was right,
+that's all. Don't let's start a fight where we don't have to."
+
+Tiger yielded the point, but when Jack returned, Tiger avoided him,
+keeping to himself the rest of the evening. And later, as he tried to
+get to sleep, Dal wondered for a moment. Maybe Tiger was right. Maybe he
+was just dodging a head-on clash with the Blue Doctor now and setting
+the stage for a real collision later.
+
+Next day the argument was forgotten in the air of rising excitement as
+embarkation orders for the _Lancet_ came through. Preparations were
+completed, and only last-minute double-checks were required before
+blast-off.
+
+But an hour before count-down began, a jitney buzzed across the field,
+and a Two-star Pathologist climbed aboard with his three black-cloaked
+orderlies. "Shakedown inspection," he said curtly. "Just a matter of
+routine." And with that he stalked slowly through the ship, checking the
+storage holds, the inventories, the lab, the computer with its
+information banks, and the control room. As he went along he kept firing
+medical questions at Dal and Tiger, hardly pausing long enough for the
+answers, and ignoring Jack Alvarez completely. "What's the normal range
+of serum cholesterol in a vegetarian race with Terran environment? How
+would you run a Wenberg electrophoresis? How do you determine individual
+radiation tolerance? How would you prepare a heart culture for cardiac
+transplant on board this ship?" The questions went on until Tiger and
+Dal were breathless, as count-down time grew closer and closer. Finally
+the Black Doctor turned back toward the entrance lock. He seemed vaguely
+disappointed as he checked the record sheets the orderlies had been
+keeping. With an odd look at Dal, he shrugged. "All right, here are your
+clearance papers," he said to Jack. "Your supply of serum globulin
+fractions is up to black-book requirements, but you'll run short if you
+happen to hit a virus epidemic; better take on a couple of more cases.
+And check central information just before leaving. We've signed two new
+contracts in the past week, and the co-ordinator's office has some
+advance information on both of them."
+
+When the inspector had gone, Tiger wiped his forehead and sighed. "That
+was no routine shakedown!" he said. "What _is_ a Wenberg
+electrophoresis?"
+
+"A method of separating serum proteins," Jack Alvarez said. "You ran
+them in third year biochemistry. And if we _do_ hit a virus epidemic,
+you'd better know how, too."
+
+He gave Tiger an unpleasant smile, and started back down the corridor as
+the count-down signal began to buzz.
+
+But for all the advance arrangements they had made to divide the ship's
+work, it was Dal Timgar who took complete control of the _Lancet_ for
+the first two weeks of its cruise. Neither Tiger nor Jack challenged his
+command; not a word was raised in protest. The Earthmen were too sick to
+talk, much less complain about anything.
+
+For Dal the blast-off from the port of Seattle and the conversion into
+Koenig star-drive was nothing new. His father owned a fleet of Garvian
+trading ships that traveled to the far corners of the galaxy by means of
+a star-drive so similar to the Koenig engines that only an electronic
+engineer could tell them apart. All his life Dal had traveled on the
+outgoing freighters with his father; star-drive conversion was no
+surprise to him.
+
+But for Jack and Tiger, it was their first experience in a star-drive
+ship. The _Lancet_'s piloting and navigation were entirely automatic;
+its destination was simply coded into the drive computers, and the ship
+was ready to leap across light years of space in a matter of hours. But
+the conversion to star-drive, as the _Lancet_ was wrenched, crew and
+all, out of the normal space-time continuum, was far outside of normal
+human experience. The physical and emotional shock of the conversion hit
+Jack and Tiger like a sledge hammer, and during the long hours while the
+ship was traveling through the time-less, distance-less universe of the
+drive to the pre-set co-ordinates where it materialized again into
+conventional space-time, the Earthmen were retching violently, too sick
+to budge from the bunk room. It took over two weeks, with stops at half
+a dozen contract planets, before Jack and Tiger began to adjust
+themselves to the frightening and confusing sensations of conversion to
+star-drive. During this time Dal carried the load of the ship's work
+alone, while the others lay gasping and exhausted in their bunks, trying
+to rally strength for the next shift.
+
+To his horror, Dal discovered that the first planetary stop-over was
+traditionally a hazing stop. It had been a well-kept patrol secret; the
+outpost clinic on Tempera VI was waiting eagerly for the arrival of the
+new "green" crew, knowing full well that the doctors aboard would hardly
+be able to stumble out of their bunks, much less to cope with medical
+problems. The outpost men had concocted a medical "crisis" of staggering
+proportions to present to the _Lancet_'s crew; they were so clearly
+disappointed to find the ship's Red Doctor in full command of himself
+that Dal obligingly became violently ill too, and did his best to mimick
+Jack and Tiger's floundering efforts to pull themselves together and do
+_something_ about the "problem" that suddenly descended upon them.
+
+Later, there was a party and celebration, with music and food, as the
+clinic staff welcomed the pale and shaken doctors into the joke. The
+outpost men plied Dal for the latest news from Hospital Earth. They were
+surprised to see a Garvian aboard the _Lancet_, but no one at the
+outpost showed any sign of resentment at the scarlet braid on Dal's
+collar and cuff.
+
+Slowly Jack and Tiger got used to the peculiarities of popping in and
+out of hyperspace. It was said that immunity to star-drive sickness was
+hard to acquire, but lasted a lifetime, and would never again bother
+them once it was achieved. Bit by bit the Earthmen crept out of their
+shells, to find the ship in order and a busy Dal Timgar relieved and
+happy to have them aboard again.
+
+Fortunately, the medical problems that came to the _Lancet_ in the first
+few weeks were largely routine. The ship stopped at the specified
+contact points--some far out near the rim of the galactic
+constellation, others in closer to the densely star-populated center. At
+each outpost clinic the _Lancet_ was welcomed with open arms. The
+outpost men were hungry for news from home, and happy to see fresh
+supplies; but they were also glad to review the current medical problems
+on their planets with the new doctors, exchanging opinions and arguing
+diagnosis and therapy into the small hours of the night.
+
+Occasionally calls came in to the ship from contract planets in need of
+help. Usually the problems were easy to handle. On Singall III, a tiny
+planet of a cooling giant star, help was needed to deal with a new
+outbreak of a smallpox-like plague that had once decimated the
+population; the disease had finally been controlled after a Hospital
+Earth research team had identified the organism that caused it,
+determined its molecular structure, and synthesized an antibiotic that
+could destroy it without damaging the body of the host. But now a
+flareup had occurred. The _Lancet_ brought in supplies of the
+antibiotic, and Tiger Martin spent two days showing Singallese
+physicians how to control further outbreaks with modern methods of
+immunization and antisepsis.
+
+Another planet called for a patrol ship when a bridge-building disaster
+occurred; one of the beetle-like workmen had been badly crushed under a
+massive steel girder. Dal spent over eighteen hours straight with the
+patient in the _Lancet_'s surgery, carefully repairing the creature's
+damaged exoskeleton and grafting new segments of bone for regeneration
+of the hopelessly ruined parts, with Tiger administering anaesthesia and
+Jack preparing the grafts from the freezer.
+
+On another planet Jack faced his first real diagnostic challenge and met
+the test with flying colors. Here a new cancer-like degenerative disease
+had been appearing among the natives of the planet. It had never before
+been noted. Initial attempts to find a causative agent had all three of
+the _Lancet_'s crew spending sleepless nights for a week, but Jack's
+careful study of the pattern of the disease and the biochemical
+reactions that accompanied it brought out the answer: the disease was
+caused by a rare form of genetic change which made crippling alterations
+in an essential enzyme system. Knowing this, Tiger quickly found a drug
+which could be substituted for the damaged enzyme, and the problem was
+solved. They left the planet, assuring the planetary government that
+laboratories on Hospital Earth would begin working at once to find a way
+actually to rebuild the damaged genes in the embryonic cells, and thus
+put a permanent end to the disease.
+
+These were routine calls, the kind of ordinary general medical work that
+the patrol ships were expected to handle. But the visits to the various
+planets were welcome breaks in the pattern of patrol ship life. The
+_Lancet_ was fully equipped, but her crew's quarters and living space
+were cramped. Under the best conditions, the crewmen on patrol ships got
+on each other's nerves; on the _Lancet_ there was an additional focus of
+tension that grew worse with every passing hour.
+
+From the first Jack Alvarez had made no pretense of pleasure at Dal's
+company, but now it seemed that he deliberately sought opportunities to
+annoy him. The thin Blue Doctor's face set into an angry mold whenever
+Dal was around. He would get up and leave when Dal entered the control
+room, and complained loudly and bitterly at minor flaws in Dal's
+shipboard work. Nothing Dal did seemed to please him.
+
+But Tiger had a worse time controlling himself at the Blue Doctor's digs
+and slights than Dal did. "It's like living in an armed camp," he
+complained one night when Jack had stalked angrily out of the bunk
+room. "Can't even open your mouth without having him jump down your
+throat."
+
+"I know," Dal said.
+
+"And he's doing it on purpose."
+
+"Maybe so. But it won't help to lose your temper."
+
+Tiger clenched a huge fist and slammed it into his palm. "He's just
+deliberately picking at you and picking at you," he said. "You can't
+take that forever. Something's got to break."
+
+"It's all right," Dal assured him. "I just ignore it."
+
+But when Jack began to shift his attack to Fuzzy, Dal could ignore it no
+longer.
+
+One night in the control room Jack threw down the report he was writing
+and turned angrily on Dal. "Tell your friend there to turn the other way
+before I lose my temper and splatter him all over the wall," he said,
+pointing to Fuzzy. "All he does is sit there and stare at me and I'm
+getting fed up with it."
+
+Fuzzy drew himself up tightly, shivering on Dal's shoulder. Dal reached
+up and stroked the tiny creature, and Fuzzy's shoe-button eyes
+disappeared completely. "There," Dal said. "Is that better?"
+
+Jack stared at the place the eyes had been, and his face darkened
+suspiciously. "Well, what happened to them?" he demanded.
+
+"What happened to what?"
+
+"To his eyes, you idiot!"
+
+Dal looked down at Fuzzy. "I don't see any eyes."
+
+Jack jumped up from the stool. He scowled at Fuzzy as if commanding the
+eyes to come back again. All he saw was a small ball of pink fur. "Look,
+he's been blinking them at me for a week," he snarled. "I thought all
+along there was something funny about him. Sometimes he's got legs and
+sometimes he hasn't. Sometimes he looks fuzzy, and other times he hasn't
+got any hair at all."
+
+"He's a pleomorph," Dal said. "No cellular structure at all, just a
+protein-colloid matrix."
+
+Jack glowered at the inert little pink lump. "Don't be silly," he said,
+curious in spite of himself. "What holds him together?"
+
+"Who knows? I don't. Some kind of electro-chemical cohesive force. The
+only reason he has 'eyes' is because he thinks I want him to have eyes.
+If you don't like it, he won't have them any more."
+
+"Well, that's very obliging," Jack said. "But why do you keep him
+around? What good does he do you, anyhow? All he does is eat and drink
+and sleep."
+
+"Does he have to do something?" Dal said evasively. "He isn't bothering
+you. Why pick on him?"
+
+"He just seems to worry you an awful lot," Jack said unpleasantly.
+"Let's see him a minute." He reached out for Fuzzy, then jerked his
+finger back with a yelp. Blood dripped from the finger tip.
+
+Jack's face slowly went white. "Why, he--he _bit_ me!"
+
+"Yes, and you're lucky he didn't take a finger off," Dal said, trembling
+with anger. "He doesn't like you any more than I do, and you'll get bit
+every time you come near him, so you'd better keep your hands to
+yourself."
+
+"Don't worry," Jack Alvarez said, "he won't get another chance. You can
+just get rid of him."
+
+"Not a chance," Dal said. "You leave him alone and he won't bother you,
+that's all. And the same thing goes for me."
+
+"If he isn't out of here in twelve hours, I'll get a warrant," Jack said
+tightly. "There are laws against keeping dangerous pets on patrol
+ships."
+
+Somewhere in the main corridor an alarm bell began buzzing. For a
+moment Dal and Jack stood frozen, glaring at each other. Then the door
+burst open and Tiger Martin's head appeared. "Hey, you two, let's get
+moving! We've got a call coming in, and it looks like a tough one. Come
+on back here!"
+
+They headed back toward the radio room. The signal was coming through
+frantically as Tiger reached for the pile of punched tape running out on
+the floor. But as they crowded into the radio room, Dal felt Jack's hand
+on his arm. "If you think I was fooling, you're wrong," the Blue Doctor
+said through his teeth. "You've got twelve hours to get rid of him."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 5
+
+CRISIS ON MORUA VIII
+
+
+The three doctors huddled around the teletype, watching as the decoded
+message was punched out on the tape. "It started coming in just now,"
+Tiger said. "And they've been beaming the signal in a spherical pattern,
+apparently trying to pick up the nearest ship they could get. There's
+certainly some sort of trouble going on."
+
+The message was brief, repeated over and over: REQUIRE MEDICAL AID
+URGENT REPLY AT ONCE. This was followed by the code letters that
+designated the planet, its location, and the number of its medical
+service contract.
+
+Jack glanced at the code. "Morua VIII," he said. "I think that's a grade
+I contract." He began punching buttons on the reference panel, and
+several screening cards came down the slot from the information bank.
+"Yes. The eighth planet of a large Sol-type star, the only inhabited
+planet in the system with a single intelligent race, ursine evolutionary
+pattern." He handed the cards to Tiger. "Teddy-bears, yet!"
+
+"Mammals?" Tiger said.
+
+"Looks like it. And they even hibernate."
+
+"What about the contract?" Dal asked.
+
+"Grade I," said Tiger. "And they've had a thorough survey. Moderately
+advanced in their own medical care, but they have full medical coverage
+any time they think they need it. We'd better get an acknowledgment back
+to them. Jack, get the ship ready to star-jump while Dal starts digging
+information out of the bank. If this race has its own doctors, they'd
+only be hollering for help if they're up against a tough one."
+
+Tiger settled down with earphones and transmitter to try to make contact
+with the Moruan planet, while Jack went forward to control and Dal
+started to work with the tape reader. There was no argument now, and no
+dissension. The procedure to be followed was a well-established routine:
+acknowledge the call, estimate arrival time, relay the call and response
+to the programmers on Hospital Earth, prepare for star-drive, and start
+gathering data fast. With no hint of the nature of the trouble, their
+job was to get there, equipped with as much information about the planet
+and its people as time allowed.
+
+The Moruan system was not distant from the _Lancet_'s present location.
+Tiger calculated that two hours in Koenig drive would put the ship in
+the vicinity of the planet, with another hour required for landing
+procedures. He passed the word on to the others, and Dal began digging
+through the mass of information in the tape library on Morua VIII and
+its people.
+
+There was a wealth of data. Morua VIII had signed one of the first
+medical service contracts with Hospital Earth, and a thorough medical,
+biochemical, social and psychological survey had been made on the people
+of that world. Since the original survey, much additional information
+had been amassed, based on patrol ship reports and dozens of specialty
+studies that had been done there.
+
+And out of this data, a picture of Morua VIII and its inhabitants began
+to emerge.
+
+The Moruans were moderately intelligent creatures, warm-blooded air
+breathers with an oxygen-based metabolism. Their planet was cold, with
+17 per cent oxygen and much water vapor in its atmosphere. With its vast
+snow-fields and great mountain ranges, the planet was a popular resort
+area for oxygen-breathing creatures; most of the natives were engaged in
+some work related to winter sports. They were well fitted anatomically
+for their climate, with thick black fur, broad flat hind feet and a
+four-inch layer of fat between their skin and their vital organs.
+
+Swiftly Dal reviewed the emergency file, checking for common drugs and
+chemicals that were poisonous to Moruans, accidents that were common to
+the race, and special problems that had been met by previous patrol
+ships. The deeper he dug into the mass of data, the more worried he
+became. Where should he begin? Searching in the dark, there was no way
+to guess what information would be necessary and what part totally
+useless.
+
+He buzzed Tiger. "Any word on the nature of the trouble?" he asked.
+
+"Just got through to them," Tiger said. "Not too much to go on, but
+they're really in an uproar. Sounds like they've started some kind of
+organ-transplant surgery and their native surgeon got cold feet halfway
+through and wants us to bail him out." Tiger paused. "I think this is
+going to be your show, Dal. Better check up on Moruan anatomy."
+
+It was better than no information, but not much better. Fuzzy huddled on
+Dal's shoulder as if he could sense his master's excitement. Very few
+races under contract with Hospital Earth ever attempted their own major
+surgery. If a Moruan surgeon had walked into a tight spot in the
+operating room, it could be a real test of skill to get him--and his
+patient--out of it, even on a relatively simple procedure. But
+organ-transplantation, with the delicate vascular surgery and
+micro-surgery that it entailed, was never simple. In incompetent hands,
+it could turn into a nightmare.
+
+Dal took a deep breath and began running the anatomical atlas tapes
+through the reader, checking the critical points of Moruan anatomy.
+Oxygen-transfer system, circulatory system, renal filtration system--at
+first glance, there was little resemblance to any of the "typical"
+oxygen-breathing mammals Dal had studied in medical school. But then
+something struck a familiar note, and he remembered studying the
+peculiar Moruan renal system, in which the creature's chemical waste
+products were filtered from the bloodstream in a series of tubules
+passing across the peritoneum, and re-absorbed into the intestine for
+excretion. Bit by bit other points of the anatomy came clear, and in
+half an hour of intense study Dal began to see how the inhabitants of
+Morua VIII were put together.
+
+Satisfied for the moment, he then pulled the tapes that described the
+Moruans' own medical advancement. What were they doing attempting
+organ-transplantation, anyway? That was the kind of surgery that even
+experienced Star Surgeons preferred to take aboard the hospital ships,
+or back to Hospital Earth, where the finest equipment and the most
+skilled assistants were available.
+
+There was a signal buzzer, the two-minute warning before the Koenig
+drive took over. Dal tossed the tape spools back into the bin for
+refiling, and went forward to the control room.
+
+Just short of two hours later, the _Lancet_ shifted back to normal
+space drive, and the cold yellow sun of the Moruan system swam into
+sight in the viewscreen. Far below, the tiny eighth planet glistened
+like a snowball in the reflection of the sun, with only occasional rents
+in the cloud blanket revealing the ragged surface below. The doctors
+watched as the ship went into descending orbit, skimming the outer
+atmosphere and settling into a landing pattern.
+
+Beneath the cloud blanket, the frigid surface of the planet spread out
+before them. Great snow-covered mountain ranges rose up on either side.
+A forty-mile gale howled across the landing field, sweeping clouds of
+powdery snow before it.
+
+A huge gawky vehicle seemed to be waiting for the ship to land; it shot
+out from the huddle of gray buildings almost the moment they touched
+down. Jack slipped into the furs that he had pulled from stores, and
+went out through the entrance lock and down the ladder to meet the dark
+furry creatures that were bundling out of the vehicle below. The
+electronic language translator was strapped to his chest.
+
+Five minutes later he reappeared, frost forming on his blue collar, his
+face white as he looked at Dal. "You'd better get down there right
+away," he said, "and take your micro-surgical instruments. Tiger, give
+me a hand with the anaesthesia tanks. They're keeping a patient alive
+with a heart-lung machine right now, and they can't finish the job. It
+looks like it might be bad."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Moruan who escorted them across the city to the hospital was a huge
+shaggy creature who left no question of the evolutionary line of his
+people. Except for the flattened nose, the high forehead and the
+fur-less hand with opposing thumb, he looked for all the world like a
+mammoth edition of the Kodiak bears Dal had seen displayed at the
+natural history museum in Hospital Philadelphia. Like all creatures with
+oxygen-and-water based metabolisms, the Moruans could trace their
+evolutionary line to minute one-celled salt-water creatures; but with
+the bitter cold of the planet, the first land-creatures to emerge from
+the primeval swamp of Morua VIII had developed the heavy furs and the
+hibernation characteristics of bear-like mammals. They towered over Dal,
+and even Tiger seemed dwarfed by their immense chest girth and powerful
+shoulders.
+
+As the surface car hurried toward the hospital, Dal probed for more
+information. The Moruan's voice was a hoarse growl which nearly deafened
+the Earthmen in the confined quarters of the car but Dal with the aid of
+the translator could piece together what had happened.
+
+More sophisticated in medical knowledge than most races in the galaxy,
+the Moruans had learned a great deal from their contact with Hospital
+Earth physicians. They actually did have a remarkable grasp of
+physiology and biochemistry, and constantly sought to learn more. They
+had already found ways to grow replacement organs from embryonic grafts,
+the Moruan said, and by copying the techniques used by the surgeons of
+Hospital Earth, their own surgeons had attempted the delicate job of
+replacing a diseased organ with a new, healthy one in a young male
+afflicted with cancer.
+
+Dal looked up at the Moruan doctor. "What organ were you replacing?" he
+asked suspiciously.
+
+"Oh, not the entire organ, just a segment," the Moruan said. "The tumor
+had caused an obstructive pneumonia--"
+
+"Are you talking about a segment of _lung_?" Dal said, almost choking.
+
+"Of course. That's where the tumor was."
+
+Dal swallowed hard. "So you just decided to replace a segment."
+
+"Yes. But something has gone wrong, we don't know what."
+
+"I see." It was all Dal could do to keep from shouting at the huge
+creature. The Moruans had no duplication of organs, such as Earthmen and
+certain other races had. A tumor of the lung would mean death ... but
+the technique of grafting a culture-grown lung segment to a portion of
+natural lung required enormous surgical skill, and the finest
+microscopic instruments that could be made in order to suture together
+the tiny capillary walls and air tubules. And if one lung were
+destroyed, a Moruan had no other to take its place. "Do you have any
+micro-surgical instruments at all?"
+
+"Oh, yes," the Moruan rumbled proudly. "We made them ourselves, just for
+this case."
+
+"You mean you've never attempted this procedure before?"
+
+"This was the first time. We don't know where we went wrong."
+
+"You went wrong when you thought about trying it," Dal muttered. "What
+anaesthesia?"
+
+"Oxygen and alcohol vapor."
+
+This was no surprise. With many species, alcohol vapor was more
+effective and less toxic than other anaesthetic gases. "And you have a
+heart-lung machine?"
+
+"The finest available, on lease from Hospital Earth."
+
+All the way through the city Dal continued the questioning, and by the
+time they reached the hospital he had an idea of the task that was
+facing him. He knew now that it was going to be bad; he didn't realize
+just how bad until he walked into the operating room.
+
+The patient was barely alive. Recognizing too late that they were in
+water too deep for them, the Moruan surgeons had gone into panic, and
+neglected the very fundamentals of physiological support for the
+creature on the table. Dal had to climb up on a platform just to see the
+operating field; the faithful wheeze of the heart-lung machine that was
+sustaining the creature continued in Dal's ears as he examined the work
+already done, first with the naked eye, then scanning the operative
+field with the crude microscopic eyepiece.
+
+"How long has he been anaesthetized?" he asked the shaggy operating
+surgeon.
+
+"Over eighteen hours already."
+
+"And how much blood has he received?"
+
+"A dozen liters."
+
+"Any more on hand?"
+
+"Perhaps six more."
+
+"Well, you'd better get it into him. He's in shock right now."
+
+The surgeon scurried away while Dal took another look at the micro
+field. The situation was bad; the anaesthesia had already gone on too
+long, and the blood chemistry record showed progressive failure.
+
+He stepped down from the platform, trying to clear his head and decide
+the right thing to do.
+
+He had done micro-surgery before, plenty of it, and he knew the
+techniques necessary to complete the job, but the thought of attempting
+it chilled him. At best, he was on unfamiliar ground, with a dozen
+factors that could go wrong. By now the patient was a dreadful risk for
+any surgeon. If he were to step in now, and the patient died, how would
+he explain not calling for help?
+
+He stepped out to the scrub room where Tiger was waiting. "Where's
+Jack?" he said.
+
+"Went back to the ship for the rest of the surgical pack."
+
+Dal shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I think we should get him
+to a hospital ship."
+
+"Is it more than you can handle?" Tiger said.
+
+"I could probably do it all right--but I could lose him, too."
+
+A frown creased Tiger's face. "Dal, it would take six hours for a
+hospital ship to get here."
+
+"I know that. But on the other hand...." Dal spread his hands. He felt
+Fuzzy crouching in a tight frightened lump in his pocket. He thought
+again of the delicate, painstaking microscopic work that remained to be
+done to bring the new section of lung into position to function, and he
+shook his head. "Look, these creatures hibernate," he said. "If we could
+get him cooled down enough, we could lighten the anaesthesia and
+maintain him as is, indefinitely."
+
+"This is up to you," Tiger said. "I don't know anything about surgery.
+If you think we should just hold tight, that's what we'll do."
+
+"All right. I think we'd better. Have them notify Jack to signal for a
+hospital ship. We'll just try to stick it out."
+
+Tiger left to pass the word, and Dal went back into the operating room.
+Suddenly he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his
+shoulders. There would be Three-star Surgeons on a Hospital Ship to
+handle this; it seemed an enormous relief to have the task out of his
+hands. Yet something was wriggling uncomfortably in the back of his
+mind, a quiet little voice saying _this isn't right, you should be doing
+this yourself right now instead of wasting precious time...._
+
+He thrust the thought away angrily and ordered the Moruan physicians to
+bring in ice packs to cool the patient's huge hulk down to hibernation
+temperatures. "We're going to send for help," Dal told the Moruan
+surgeon who had met them at the ship. "This man needs specialized care,
+and we'd be taking too much chance to try to do it this way."
+
+"You mean you're sending for a hospital ship?"
+
+"That's right," Dal said.
+
+This news seemed to upset the Moruans enormously. They began growling
+among themselves, moving back from the operating table.
+
+"Then you can't save him?" the operating surgeon said.
+
+"I think he can be saved, certainly!"
+
+"But we thought you could just step in--"
+
+"I could, but that would be taking chances that we don't need to take.
+We can maintain him until the hospital ship arrives."
+
+The Moruans continued to growl ominously, but Dal brushed past them,
+checking the vital signs of the patient as his body temperature slowly
+dropped. Tiger had taken over the anaesthesia, keeping the patient under
+as light a dosage of medication as was possible.
+
+"What's eating them?" he asked Dal quietly.
+
+"They don't want a hospital ship here very much," Dal said. "Afraid
+they'll look like fools all over the Confederation if the word gets out.
+But that's their worry. Ours is to keep this bruiser alive until the
+ship gets here."
+
+They settled back to wait.
+
+It was an agonizing time for Dal. Even Fuzzy didn't seem to be much
+comfort. The patient was clearly not doing well, even with the low body
+temperatures Dal had induced. His blood pressure was sagging, and at one
+time Tiger sat up sharply, staring at his anaesthesia dials and frowning
+in alarm as the nervous-system reactions flagged. The Moruan physicians
+hovered about, increasingly uneasy as they saw the doctors from Hospital
+Earth waiting and doing nothing. One of them, unable to control himself
+any longer, tore off his sterile gown and stalked angrily out of the
+operating suite.
+
+A dozen times Dal was on the verge of stepping in. It was beginning to
+look now like a race with time, and precious minutes were passing by. He
+cursed himself inwardly for not taking the bit in his teeth at the
+beginning and going ahead the best he could; it had been a mistake in
+judgment to wait. Now, as minutes passed into hours it looked more and
+more like a mistake that was going to cost the life of a patient.
+
+Then there was a murmur of excitement outside the operating room, and
+word came in that another ship had been sighted making landing
+maneuvers. Dal clenched his fists, praying that the patient would last
+until the hospital ship crew arrived.
+
+But the ship that was landing was not a hospital ship. Someone turned on
+a TV scanner and picked up the image of a small ship hardly larger than
+a patrol ship, with just two passengers stepping down the ladder to the
+ground. Then the camera went close-up. Dal saw the faces of the two men,
+and his heart sank.
+
+One was a Four-star Surgeon, resplendent in flowing red cape and
+glistening silver insignia. Dal did not recognize the man, but the four
+stars meant that he was a top-ranking physician in the Red Service of
+Surgery.
+
+The other passenger, gathering his black cloak and hood around him as he
+faced the blistering wind on the landing field, was Black Doctor Hugo
+Tanner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Moments after the Four-star Surgeon arrived at the hospital, he was
+fully and unmistakably in command of the situation. He gave Dal an icy
+stare, then turned to the Moruan operating surgeon, whom he seemed to
+know very well. After a short barrage of questions and answers, he
+scrubbed and gowned, and stalked past Dal to the crude Moruan
+micro-surgical control table.
+
+It took him exactly fifteen seconds to scan the entire operating field
+through the viewer, discussing the anatomy as the Moruan surgeon watched
+on a connecting screen. Then, without hesitation, he began manipulating
+the micro-instruments. Once or twice he murmured something to Tiger at
+the anaesthesia controls, and occasionally he nodded reassurance to the
+Moruan surgeon. He did not even invite Dal to observe.
+
+Ten minutes later he rose from the control table and threw the switch to
+stop the heart-lung machine. The patient took a gasping breath on his
+own, then another and another. The Four-star Surgeon stripped off his
+gown and gloves with a flourish. "It will be all right," he said to the
+Moruan physician. "An excellent job, Doctor, excellent!" he said. "Your
+technique was flawless, except for the tiny matter you have just
+observed."
+
+It was not until they were outside the operating room and beyond earshot
+of the Moruan doctors that the Four-star surgeon turned furiously to
+Dal. "Didn't you even bother to examine the operating field, Doctor?
+Where did you study surgery? Couldn't you tell that the fools had
+practically finished the job themselves? All that was needed was a
+simple great-vessel graft, which an untrained idiot could have done
+blindfolded. And for this you call me clear from Hospital Earth!"
+
+The surgeon threw down his mask in disgust and stalked away, leaving Dal
+and Tiger staring at each other in dismay.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 6
+
+TIGER MAKES A PROMISE
+
+
+"I think," Black Doctor Hugo Tanner said ominously, "that an explanation
+is in order. I would now like to hear it. And believe me, gentlemen, it
+had better be a very sensible explanation, too."
+
+The pathologist was sitting in the control room of the _Lancet_, his
+glasses slightly askew on his florid face. He had climbed through the
+entrance lock ten minutes before, shaking snow off his cloak and
+wheezing like a boiler about to explode; now he faced the patrol ship's
+crew like a small but ominous black thundercloud. Across the room, Jack
+Alvarez was staring through the viewscreen at the blizzard howling
+across the landing field below, a small satisfied smile on his face,
+while Tiger sulked with his hands jammed into his trousers. Dal sat by
+himself feeling very much alone, with Fuzzy peering discreetly out of
+his jacket pocket.
+
+He knew the Black Doctor was speaking to him, but he didn't try to
+reply. He had known from the moment the surgeon came out of the
+operating room that he was in trouble. It was just a matter of time
+before he would have to answer for his decision here, and it was even
+something of a relief that the moment came sooner rather than later.
+
+And the more Dal considered his position, the more indefensible it
+appeared. Time after time he had thought of Dr. Arnquist's words about
+judgment and skill. Without one the other was of little value to a
+doctor, and whatever his skill as a surgeon might have been in the
+Moruan operating room, he now realized that his judgment had been poor.
+He had allowed himself to panic at a critical moment, and had failed to
+see how far the surgery had really progressed. By deciding to wait for
+help to arrive instead of taking over at once, he had placed the patient
+in even greater jeopardy than before. In looking back, Dal could see
+clearly that it would have been far better judgment to proceed on his
+own.
+
+But that was how it looked _now_, not _then_, and there was an old
+saying that the "retrospectoscope" was the only infallible instrument in
+all medicine.
+
+In any event, the thing was done, and couldn't be changed, and Dal knew
+that he could only stand on what he had done, right or wrong.
+
+"Well, I'm waiting," Black Doctor Tanner said, scowling at Dal through
+his thick-rimmed glasses. "I want to know who was responsible for this
+fiasco, and why it occurred in the first place."
+
+Dal spread his hands hopelessly. "What do you want me to say?" he asked.
+"I took a careful history of the situation as soon as we arrived here,
+and then I examined the patient in the operating room. I thought the
+surgery might be over my head, and couldn't see attempting it if a
+hospital ship could be reached in time. I thought the patient could be
+maintained safely long enough for us to call for help."
+
+"I see," the Black Doctor said. "You've done micro-surgery before?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And organ transplant work?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+The Black Doctor opened a folder and peered at it over his glasses. "As
+a matter of fact, you spent two solid years in micro-surgical training
+in Hospital Philadelphia, with all sorts of glowing reports from your
+preceptors about what a flair you had for the work."
+
+Dal shook his head. "I--I did some work in the field, yes, but not on
+critical cases under field conditions."
+
+"You mean that this case required some different kind of technique than
+the cases you've worked on before?"
+
+"No, not really, but--"
+
+"But you just couldn't quite shoulder the responsibility the job
+involved when you got into a pinch without any help around," the Black
+Doctor growled.
+
+"I just thought it would be safer to wait," Dal said helplessly.
+
+"A good conservative approach," Dr. Tanner sneered. "Of course, you
+realized that prolonged anaesthesia in itself could threaten that
+patient's life?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And you saw the patient's condition steadily deteriorating while you
+waited, did you not?"
+
+"It was too late to change my mind then," Dal said desperately. "We'd
+sent for you. We knew that it would be only a matter of hours before you
+arrived."
+
+"Indeed," the Black Doctor said. "Unfortunately, it takes only seconds
+for a patient to cross the line between life and death, not hours. And I
+suppose you would have stood there quietly and allowed him to expire if
+we had not arrived at the time we did?"
+
+Dal shook his head miserably. There was nothing he could answer to that,
+and he realized it. What could he say? That the situation seemed quite
+different now than it had under pressure in the Moruan operating room?
+That he would have been blamed just as much if he had gone ahead, and
+then lost the case? His fingers stole down to Fuzzy's soft warm body for
+comfort, and he felt the little creature cling closer to his side.
+
+The Black Doctor looked up at the others. "Well? What do the rest of you
+have to say?"
+
+Jack Alvarez shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a surgeon," he said, "but
+even I could see that _something_ should be done without delay."
+
+"And what does the Green Doctor think?"
+
+Tiger shrugged. "We misjudged the situation, that's all. It came out
+fortunately for the patient, why make all this fuss about it?"
+
+"Because there are other things at stake than just medical
+considerations," the Black Doctor shot back. "This planet has a grade I
+contract with Hospital Earth. We guarantee them full medical coverage of
+all situations and promise them immediate response to any call for
+medical help that they may send us. It is the most favorable kind of
+contract we have; when Morua VIII calls for help they expect their call
+to be answered by expert medical attention, not by inept bungling."
+
+The Black Doctor leafed through the folder in his hands. "We have built
+our reputation in the Galactic Confederation on this kind of contract,
+and our admission to full membership in the Confederation will
+ultimately depend upon how we fulfill our promises. Poor medical
+judgment cannot be condoned under any circumstances--but above all, we
+cannot afford to jeopardize a contract."
+
+Dal stared at him. "I--I had no intention of jeopardizing a contract,"
+he faltered.
+
+"Perhaps not," the Black Doctor said. "But you were the doctor on the
+spot, and you were so obviously incompetent to handle the situation that
+even these clumsy Moruan surgeons could see it. Their faith in the
+doctors from Hospital Earth has been severely shaken. They are even
+talking of letting their contract lapse at the end of this term."
+
+Tiger Martin jumped to his feet. "Doctor Tanner, even Four-star Surgeons
+lose patients sometimes. These people should be glad that the doctor
+they call has sense enough to call for help if he needs it."
+
+"But no help was needed," the Black Doctor said angrily. "Any
+half-decent surgeon would have handled the case. If the Moruans see a
+patrol ship bring in one incompetent doctor, what are they going to
+expect the next time they have need for help? How can they feel sure
+that their medical needs are well taken care of?" He shook his head
+grimly. "This is the sort of responsibility that doctors on the patrol
+ships are expected to assume. If you call for help where there is need
+for help, no one will ever complain; but when you turn and run the
+moment things get tough, you are not fit for patrol ship service."
+
+The Black Doctor turned to Dal Timgar. "You had ample warning," he said.
+"It was clearly understood that your assignment on this ship depended
+upon the fulfillment of the duties of Red Doctor here, and now at the
+first real test you turn and run instead of doing your job. All right.
+You had your opportunity. You can't complain that we haven't given you a
+chance. According to the conduct code of the General Practice Patrol,
+section XIV, paragraph 2, any physician in the patrol on probationary
+status who is found delinquent in executing his duties may be relieved
+of his assignment at the order of any Black Doctor, or any other
+physician of four-star rank." Doctor Tanner closed the folder with a
+snap of finality. "It seems to me that the case is clear. Dal Timgar, on
+the authority of the Code, I am now relieving you of duty--"
+
+"Just a minute," Tiger Martin burst out.
+
+The Black Doctor looked up at him. "Well?"
+
+"This is ridiculous," Tiger said. "Why are you picking on _him_? Or do
+you mean that you're relieving all three of us?"
+
+"Of course I'm not relieving all three of you," the Black Doctor
+snapped. "You and Dr. Alvarez will remain on duty and conduct the ship's
+program without a Red Doctor until a man is sent to replace this
+bungler. That also is provided for in the code."
+
+"But I understood that we were operating as a diagnostic and therapeutic
+team," Tiger protested. "And I seem to remember something in the code
+about fixing responsibility before a man can be relieved."
+
+"There's no question where the responsibility lies," the Black Doctor
+said, his face darkening. "This was a surgical problem, and Dal Timgar
+made the decisions. I don't see anything to argue."
+
+"There's plenty to argue," Tiger said. "Dal, don't you see what he's
+trying to do?"
+
+Across the room Dal shook his head wearily. "You'd better keep out of
+it, Tiger," he said.
+
+"Why should I keep out of it and let you be drummed out of the patrol
+for something that wasn't even your fault?" Tiger said. He turned
+angrily to the Black Doctor. "Dal wasn't the one that wanted the
+hospital ship called," he said. "I was. If you're going to relieve
+somebody, you'd better make it me."
+
+The Black Doctor pulled off his glasses and glared at Tiger. "Whatever
+are you talking about?" he said.
+
+"Just what I said. We had a conference after he'd examined the patient
+in the operating room, and I insisted that we call the hospital ship.
+Why, Dal--Dal wanted to go ahead and try to finish the case right then,
+and I wouldn't let him," Tiger blundered on. "I didn't think the patient
+could take it. I thought that it would be too great a risk with the
+facilities we had here."
+
+Dal was staring at Tiger, and he felt Fuzzy suddenly shivering violently
+in his pocket. "Tiger, don't be foolish--"
+
+The Black Doctor slammed the file down on the table again. "Is this
+true, what he's saying?" he asked Dal.
+
+"No, not a word of it," Dal said. "I wanted to call the hospital ship."
+
+"Of course he won't admit it," Tiger said angrily. "He's afraid you'll
+kick me out too, but it's true just the same in spite of what he says."
+
+"And what do _you_ say?" the Black Doctor said, turning to Jack Alvarez.
+
+"I say it's carrying this big brother act too far," Jack said. "I didn't
+notice any conferences going on."
+
+"You were back at the ship getting the surgical pack," Tiger said. "You
+didn't know anything about it. You didn't hear us talking, and we didn't
+see any reason to consult you about it."
+
+The Black Doctor stared from Dal to Tiger, his face growing angrier by
+the minute. He jerked to his feet, and stalked back and forth across the
+control room, glaring at them. Then he took a capsule from his pocket,
+gulped it down with some water, and sat back down. "I ought to throw
+you both out on your ears," he snarled. "But I am forced to control
+myself. I mustn't allow myself to get angry--" He crashed his fist down
+on the control panel. "I suppose that you would swear to this statement
+of yours if it came to that?" he asked Tiger.
+
+Tiger nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I certainly would."
+
+"All right," the Black Doctor said tightly. "Then you win this one. The
+code says that two opinions can properly decide any course of action. If
+you insist that two of you agreed on this decision, then I am forced to
+support you officially. I will make a report of the incident to patrol
+headquarters, and it will go on the permanent records of all three of
+this ship's crew--including my personal opinion of the decision." He
+looked up at Dal. "But be very careful, my young friend. Next time you
+may not have a technicality to back you up, and I'll be watching for the
+first plausible excuse to break you, and your Green Doctor friend as
+well. One misstep, and you're through. And I assure you that is not just
+an idle threat. I mean every word of it."
+
+And trembling with rage, the Black Doctor picked up the folder, wrapped
+his cape around him, and marched out of the control room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Well, you put on a great show," Jack Alvarez said later as they
+prepared the ship for launching from the snow-swept landing field on
+Morua VIII. An hour before the ground had trembled as the Black Doctor's
+ship took off with Dr. Tanner and the Four-star Surgeon aboard; now Jack
+broke the dark silence in the _Lancet_'s control room for the first
+time. "A really great show. You missed your calling, Tiger. You should
+have been on the stage. If you think you fooled Dr. Tanner with that
+story for half a second, you're crazy, but I guess you got what you
+wanted. You kept your pal's cuff and collar for him, and you put a black
+mark on all of our records, including mine. I hope you're satisfied."
+
+Tiger Martin took off his earphones and set them carefully on the
+control panel. "You know," he said to Jack, "you're lucky."
+
+"Really?"
+
+"You're lucky I don't wipe that sneer off your face and scrub the walls
+with it. And you'd better not crowd your luck, because all I need right
+now is an invitation." He stood up, towering over the dark-haired Blue
+Doctor. "You bet I'm satisfied. And if you got a black mark along with
+the rest of us, you earned it all the way."
+
+"That still doesn't make it right," Dal said from across the room.
+
+"You just keep out of this for a minute," Tiger said. "Jack has got to
+get a couple of things straight, and this is the time for it right now."
+
+Dal shook his head. "I can't keep out of it," he said. "You got me off
+the hook by shifting the blame, but you put yourself in trouble doing
+it. Dr. Tanner could just as well have thrown us both out of the service
+as not."
+
+Tiger snorted. "On what grounds? For a petty little error like this? He
+wouldn't dare! You ought to read the log books of some of the other GPP
+ships some time and see the kind of bloopers they pull without even a
+reprimand. Don't worry, he was mad enough to throw us both out if he
+thought he could make it stick, but he knew he couldn't. He knew the
+council would just review the case and reverse his decision."
+
+"It was still my error, not yours," Dal protested. "I should have gone
+ahead and finished the case on the spot. I knew it at the time, and I
+just didn't quite dare."
+
+"So you made a mistake," Tiger said. "You'll make a dozen more before
+you get your Star, and if none of them amount to any more than this one,
+you can be very happy." He scowled at Jack. "It's only thanks to our
+friend here that the Black Doctor heard about this at all. A hospital
+ship would have come to take the patient aboard, and the local doctors
+would have been quieted down and that would have been all there was to
+it. This business about losing a contract is a lot of nonsense."
+
+"Then you think this thing was just used as an excuse to get at me?"
+
+"Ask him," Tiger said, looking at Jack again. "Ask him why a Black
+Doctor and a Four-star Surgeon turned up when we just called for a
+hospital ship."
+
+"I called the hospital ship," Jack said sullenly.
+
+"But you called Dr. Tanner too," said Tiger. "Your nose has been out of
+joint ever since Dal came aboard this ship. You've made things as
+miserable for him as you could, and you just couldn't wait for a chance
+to come along to try to scuttle him."
+
+"All right," Jack said, "but he was making a mistake. Anybody could see
+that. What if the patient had died while he was standing around waiting?
+Isn't that important?"
+
+Tiger started to answer, and then threw up his hands in disgust. "It's
+important--but something else is more important. We've got a job to do
+on this ship, and we can't do it fighting each other. Dal misjudged a
+case and got in trouble. Fine, he won't make that mistake again. It
+could just as well have been you, or me. We'll all make mistakes, but if
+we can't work as a team, we're sunk. We'll all be drummed out of the
+patrol before a year is out." Tiger stopped to catch his breath, his
+face flushed with anger. "Well, I'm fed up with this back-stabbing
+business. I don't want a fight any more than Dal does, but if I have to
+fight, I'll fight to get it over with, and you'd better be careful. If
+you pull any more sly ones, you'd better include me in the deal, because
+if Dal goes, I go too. And that's a promise."
+
+There was silence for a moment as Jack stared up at Tiger's angry face.
+He shook his head and blinked, as though he couldn't quite believe what
+he was hearing. He looked across at Dal, and then back at Tiger again.
+"You mean you'd turn in your collar and cuff?" he said.
+
+"If it came to that."
+
+"I see." Jack sat down at the control panel, still shaking his head. "I
+think you really mean it," he said soberly. "This isn't just a big
+brother act. You really like the guy, don't you?"
+
+"Maybe I do," Tiger said, "but I don't like to watch anybody get kicked
+around just because somebody else doesn't happen to like him."
+
+The control room was very quiet. Then somewhere below a motor clicked
+on, and the ventilation fan made a quiet whirring sound. The teletype
+clicked sporadically down the corridor in the communications room. Dal
+sat silently, rubbing Fuzzy between the eyes and watching the two
+Earthmen. It seemed suddenly as if they were talking about somebody a
+million miles away, as if he were not even in the room.
+
+Then the Blue Doctor shrugged and rose to his feet. "All right," he said
+to Tiger. "I guess I just didn't understand where you stood, and I
+suppose it wasn't my job to let the Black Doctor know about the
+situation here. I don't plan to be making all the mistakes you think
+we're going to make, and I won't take the blame for anybody else's, but
+I guess we've got to work together in the tight spots." He gave Dal a
+lop-sided grin. "Welcome aboard," he said. "We'd better get this crate
+airborne before the people here come and cart it away."
+
+They moved then, and the subject was dropped. Half an hour later the
+_Lancet_ lifted through the atmospheric pull of the Moruan planet and
+moved on toward the next contact point, leaving the recovering patient
+in the hands of the native physicians. It was not until hours later that
+Dal noticed that Fuzzy had stopped quivering, and was resting happily
+and securely on his shoulder even when the Blue Doctor was near.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 7
+
+ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS
+
+
+Once more the crew of the _Lancet_ settled down to routine, and the
+incident on Morua VIII seemed almost forgotten.
+
+But a change had come about in the relations between the three doctors,
+and in every way the change was for the better. If Jack Alvarez was not
+exactly cordial to Dal Timgar, at least he had dropped the open
+antagonism that he had shown before. Apparently Tiger's angry outburst
+had startled Jack, as though he had never really considered that the big
+Earthman might honestly be attached to his friend from Garv II, and the
+Blue Doctor seemed sincere in his agreement to work with Dal and Tiger
+as a team.
+
+But bit by bit Dal could sense that the change in Jack's attitude went
+deeper than the surface. "You know, I really think he was _scared_ of
+me," Dal said one night when he and Tiger were alone. "Sounds silly, but
+I think it's true. He pretends to be so sure of himself, but I think
+he's as worried about doing things wrong as we are, and just won't admit
+it. And he really thought I was a threat when I came aboard."
+
+"He probably had a good thorough briefing from Black Doctor Tanner
+before he got the assignment," Tiger said grimly.
+
+"Maybe--but somehow I don't think he cares for the Black Doctor much
+more than we do."
+
+But whatever the reason, much of the tension was gone when the _Lancet_
+had left the Moruan system behind. A great weight seemed to have been
+lifted, and if there was not quite peace on board, at least there was an
+uneasy truce. Tiger and Jack were almost friendly, talking together more
+often and getting to know each other better. Jack still avoided Dal and
+seldom included him in conversations, but the open contempt of the first
+few weeks on the ship now seemed tempered somewhat.
+
+Once again the _Lancet_'s calls fell into a pattern. Landings on the
+outpost planets became routine, bright spots in a lonely and wandering
+existence. The calls that came in represented few real problems. The
+ship stopped at one contract planet to organize a mass inoculation
+program against a parasitic infestation resembling malaria. They paused
+at another place to teach the native doctors the use of some new
+surgical instruments that had been developed in Hospital Earth
+laboratories just for them. Frantic emergency calls usually proved to
+involve trivial problems, but once or twice potentially serious
+situations were spotted early, before they could develop into real
+trouble.
+
+And as the three doctors got used to the responsibilities of a patrol
+ship's rounds, and grew more confident of their ability to handle the
+problems thrust upon them, they found themselves working more and more
+efficiently as a team.
+
+This was the way the General Practice Patrol was supposed to function.
+Each doctor had unsuspected skills that came to light. There was no
+questioning Jack Alvarez's skill as a diagnostician, but it seemed
+uncanny to Dal the way the slender, dark-haired Earthman could listen
+carefully to a medical problem of an alien race on a remote planet, and
+then seem to know exactly which questions to ask to draw out the
+significant information about the situation. Tiger was not nearly as
+quick and clever as Jack; he needed more time to ponder a question of
+medical treatment, and he would often spend long hours poring over the
+data tapes before deciding what to do in a given case--but he always
+seemed to come up with an answer, and his answers usually worked. Above
+all, Tiger's relations with the odd life-forms they encountered were
+invariably good; the creatures seemed to like him, and would follow his
+instructions faithfully.
+
+Dal, too, had opportunities to demonstrate that his surgical skill and
+judgment was not universally faulty in spite of the trouble on Morua
+VIII. More than once he succeeded in almost impossible surgical cases
+where there was no time to call for help, and little by little he could
+sense Jack's growing confidence in his abilities, grudging though it
+might be.
+
+Dal had ample time to mull over the thing that had happened on Morua
+VIII and to think about the interview with Black Doctor Tanner
+afterward. He knew he was glad that Tiger had intervened even on the
+basis of a falsehood; until Tiger had spoken up Dal had been certain
+that the Black Doctor fully intended to use the incident as an excuse to
+discharge him from the General Practice Patrol. There was no question in
+his mind that the Black Doctor's charges had been exaggerated into a
+trumped-up case against him, and there was no question that Tiger's
+insistence on taking the blame had saved him; he could not help being
+thankful.
+
+Yet there was something about it that disturbed Dal, nibbling away
+persistently at his mind. He couldn't throw off the feeling that his own
+acceptance of Tiger's help had been wrong.
+
+Part of it, he knew, was his native, inbred loathing for falsehood. Fair
+or unfair, Dal had always disliked lying. Among his people, the truth
+might be bent occasionally, but frank lying was considered a deep
+disgrace, and there was a Garvian saying that "a false tongue wins no
+true friends." Garvian traders were known throughout the Galaxy as much
+for their rigid adherence to their word as they were for the hard
+bargains they could drive; Dal had been enormously confused during his
+first months on Hospital Earth by the way Earthmen seemed to accept
+lying as part of their daily life, unconcerned about it as long as the
+falsehood could not be proven.
+
+But something else about Tiger's defense of him bothered Dal far more
+than the falsehood--something that had vaguely disturbed him ever since
+he had known the big Earthman, and that now seemed to elude him every
+time he tried to pinpoint it. Lying in his bunk during a sleep period,
+Dal remembered vividly the first time he had met Tiger, early in the
+second year of medical school. Dal had almost despaired by then of
+making friends with his hostile and resentful classmates and had begun
+more and more to avoid contact with them, building up a protective shell
+and relying on Fuzzy for company or comfort. Then Tiger had found him
+eating lunch by himself in the medical school lounge one day and flopped
+down in the seat beside him and began talking as if Dal were just
+another classmate. Tiger's open friendliness had been like a spring
+breeze to Dal who was desperately lonely in this world of strangers;
+their friendship had grown rapidly, and gradually others in the class
+had begun to thaw enough at least to be civil when Dal was around. Dal
+had sensed that this change of heart was largely because of Tiger and
+not because of him, yet he had welcomed it as a change from the previous
+intolerable coldness even though it left him feeling vaguely uneasy.
+Tiger was well liked by the others in the class; Dal had been grateful
+more than once when Tiger had risen in hot defense of the Garvian's
+right to be studying medicine among Earthmen in the school on Hospital
+Earth.
+
+But that had been in medical school, among classmates. Somehow that had
+been different from the incident that occurred on Morua VIII, and Dal's
+uneasiness grew stronger than ever the more he thought of it. Talking to
+Tiger about it was no help; Tiger just grinned and told him to forget
+it, but even in the rush of shipboard activity it stubbornly refused to
+be forgotten.
+
+One minor matter also helped to ease the tension between the doctors as
+they made their daily rounds. Tiger brought a pink dispatch sheet in to
+Dal one day, grinning happily. "This is from the weekly news capsule,"
+he said. "It ought to cheer you up."
+
+It was a brief news note, listed under "incidental items." "The Black
+Service of Pathology," it said, "has announced that Black Doctor Hugo
+Tanner will enter Hospital Philadelphia within the next week for
+prophylactic heart surgery. In keeping with usual Hospital Earth
+administrative policy, the Four-star Black Doctor will undergo a total
+cardiac transplant to halt the Medical education administrator's
+progressively disabling heart disease." The note went on to name the
+surgeons who would officiate at the procedure.
+
+Dal smiled and handed back the dispatch. "Maybe it will improve his
+temper," he said, "even if it does give him another fifty years of
+active life."
+
+"Well, at least it will take him out of _our_ hair for a while," Tiger
+said. "He won't have time to keep us under too close scrutiny."
+
+Which, Dal was forced to admit, did not make him too unhappy.
+
+Shipboard rounds kept all three doctors busy. Often, with contact
+landings, calls, and studying, it seemed only a brief time from sleep
+period to sleep period, but still they had some time for minor luxuries.
+Dal was almost continuously shivering, with the ship kept at a
+temperature that was comfortable for Tiger and Jack; he missed the
+tropical heat of his home planet, and sometimes it seemed that he was
+chilled down to the marrow of his bones in spite of his coat of gray
+fur. With a little home-made plumbing and ingenuity, he finally managed
+to convert one of the ship's shower units into a steam bath. Once or
+twice each day he would retire for a blissful half hour warming himself
+up to Garv II normal temperatures.
+
+Fuzzy also became a part of shipboard routine. Once he grew accustomed
+to Tiger and Jack and the surroundings aboard the ship, the little
+creature grew bored sitting on Dal's shoulder and wanted to be in the
+middle of things. Since the early tension had eased, he was willing to
+be apart from his master from time to time, so Dal and Tiger built him a
+platform that hung from the ceiling of the control room. There Fuzzy
+would sit and swing by the hour, blinking happily at the activity going
+on all around him.
+
+But for all the appearance of peace and agreement, there was still an
+undercurrent of tension on board the _Lancet_ which flared up from time
+to time when it was least expected, between Dal and Jack. It was on one
+such occasion that a major crisis almost developed, and once again Fuzzy
+was the center of the contention.
+
+Dal Timgar knew that disaster had struck at the very moment it happened,
+but he could not tell exactly what was wrong. All he knew was that
+something fearful had happened to Fuzzy.
+
+There was a small sound-proof cubicle in the computer room, with a
+chair, desk and a tape-reader for the doctors when they had odd moments
+to spend reading up on recent medical bulletins or reviewing their
+textbooks. Dal spent more time here than the other two; the temperature
+of the room could be turned up, and he had developed a certain fondness
+for the place with its warm gray walls and its soft relaxing light. Here
+on the tapes were things that he could grapple with, things that he
+could understand. If a problem here eluded him, he could study it out
+until he had mastered it. The hours he spent here were a welcome retreat
+from the confusing complexities of getting along with Jack and Tiger.
+
+These long study periods were boring for Fuzzy who wasn't much
+interested in the oxygen-exchange mechanism of the intelligent beetles
+of Aldebaran VI. Frequently Dal would leave him to swing on his platform
+or explore about the control cabin while he spent an hour or two at
+the tape-reader. Today Dal had been working for over an hour,
+deeply immersed in a review of the intermediary metabolism of
+chlorine-breathing mammals, when something abruptly wrenched his
+attention from the tape.
+
+It was as though a light had snapped off in his mind, or a door slammed
+shut. There was no sound, no warning; yet, suddenly, he felt dreadfully,
+frighteningly alone, as if in a split second something inside him had
+been torn away. He sat bolt upright, staring, and he felt his skin crawl
+and his fingers tremble as he listened, trying to spot the source of the
+trouble.
+
+And then, almost instinctively, he knew what was wrong. He leaped to
+his feet, tore open the door to the cubicle and dashed down the hallway
+toward the control room. "Fuzzy!" he shouted. "Fuzzy, _where are you?_"
+
+Tiger and Jack were both at the control panel dictating records for
+filing. They looked up in surprise as the Red Doctor burst into the
+room. Fuzzy's platform was hanging empty, gently swaying back and forth.
+Dal peered frantically around the room. There was no sign of the small
+pink creature.
+
+"Where is he?" he demanded. "What's happened to Fuzzy?"
+
+Jack shrugged in disgust. "He's up on his perch. Where else?"
+
+"He's not either! Where is he?"
+
+Jack blinked at the empty perch. "He was there just a minute ago. I saw
+him."
+
+"Well, he's not there now, and something's wrong!" In a panic, Dal began
+searching the room, knocking over stools, scattering piles of paper,
+peering in every corner where Fuzzy might be concealed.
+
+For a moment the others sat frozen, watching him. Then Tiger jumped to
+his feet. "Hold it, hold it! He probably just wandered off for a minute.
+He does that all the time."
+
+"No, it's something worse than that." Dal was almost choking on the
+words. "Something terrible has happened. I know it."
+
+Jack Alvarez tossed the recorder down in disgust. "You and your
+miserable pet!" he said. "I knew we shouldn't have kept him on board."
+
+Dal stared at Jack. Suddenly all the anger and bitterness of the past
+few weeks could no longer be held in. Without warning he hurled himself
+at the Blue Doctor's throat. "Where is he?" he cried. "What have you
+done with him? What have you done to Fuzzy? You've done something to
+him! You've hated him every minute just like you hate me, only he's
+easier to pick on. Now where is he? What have you done to him?"
+
+Jack staggered back, trying to push the furious little Garvian away.
+"Wait a minute! Get away from me! I didn't do anything!"
+
+"You did too! Where is he?"
+
+"I don't know." Jack struggled to break free, but there was powerful
+strength in Dal's fingers for all his slight body build. "I tell you, he
+was here just a minute ago."
+
+Dal felt a hand grip his collar then, and Tiger was dragging them apart
+like two dogs in a fight. "Now stop this!" he roared, holding them both
+at arm's length. "I said _stop it_! Jack didn't do anything to Fuzzy,
+he's been sitting here with me ever since you went back to the cubicle.
+He hasn't even budged."
+
+"But he's _gone_," Dal panted. "Something's happened to him. I _know_
+it."
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"I--I just know. I can feel it."
+
+"All right, then let's find him," Tiger said. "He's got to be somewhere
+on the ship. If he's in trouble, we're wasting time fighting."
+
+Tiger let go, and Jack brushed off his shirt, his face very white. "I
+saw him just a little while ago," he said. "He was sitting up on that
+silly perch watching us, and then swinging back and forth and swinging
+over to that cabinet and back."
+
+"Well, let's get started looking," Tiger said.
+
+They fanned out, with Jack still muttering to himself, and searched the
+control room inch by inch. There was no sign of Fuzzy. Dal had control
+of himself now, but he searched with a frantic intensity. "He's not in
+here," he said at last, "he must have gone out somewhere."
+
+"There was only one door open," Tiger said. "The one you just came
+through, from the rear corridor. Dal, you search the computer room.
+Jack, check the lab and I'll go back to the reactors."
+
+They started searching the compartments off the rear corridor. For ten
+minutes there was no sound in the ship but the occasional slamming of a
+hatch, the grate of a desk drawer, the bang of a cabinet door. Dal
+worked through the maze of cubby-holes in the computer room with growing
+hopelessness. The frightening sense of loneliness and loss in his mind
+was overwhelming; he was almost physically ill. The warm, comfortable
+feeling of _contact_ that he had always had before with Fuzzy was gone.
+As the minutes passed, hopelessness gave way to despair.
+
+Then Jack gave a hoarse cry from the lab. Dal tripped and stumbled in
+his haste to get down the corridor, and almost collided with Tiger at
+the lab door.
+
+"I think we're too late," Jack said. "He's gotten into the formalin."
+
+He lifted one of the glass beakers down from the shelf to the work
+bench. It was obvious what had happened. Fuzzy had gone exploring and
+had found the laboratory a fascinating place. Several of the reagents
+bottles had been knocked over as if he had been sampling them. The glass
+lid to the beaker of formalin which was kept for tissue specimens had
+been pushed aside just enough to admit the little creature's two-inch
+girth. Now Fuzzy lay in the bottom of the beaker, immersed in formalin,
+a formless, shapeless blob of sickly gray jelly.
+
+"Are you sure it's formalin?" Dal asked.
+
+Jack poured off the fluid, and the acrid smell of formaldehyde that
+filled the room answered the question. "It's no good, Dal," he said,
+almost gently. "The stuff destroys protein, and that's about all he was.
+I'm sorry--I was beginning to like the little punk, even if he did get
+on my nerves. But he picked the one thing to fall into that could kill
+him. Unless he had some way to set up a protective barrier...."
+
+Dal took the beaker. "Get me some saline," he said tightly. "And some
+nutrient broth."
+
+Jack pulled out two jugs and poured their contents into an empty beaker.
+Dal popped the tiny limp form into the beaker and began massaging it.
+Layers of damaged tissue peeled off in his hand, but he continued
+massaging and changing the solutions, first saline, then nutrient broth.
+"Get me some sponges and a blade."
+
+Tiger brought them in. Carefully Dal began debriding the damaged outer
+layers. Jack and Tiger watched; then Jack said, "Look, there's a tinge
+of pink in the middle."
+
+Slowly the faint pink in the center grew more ruddy. Dal changed
+solutions again, and sank down on a stool. "I think he'll make it," he
+said. "He has enormous regenerative powers as long as any fragment of
+him is left." He looked up at Jack who was still watching the creature
+in the beaker almost solicitously. "I guess I made a fool of myself back
+there when I jumped you."
+
+Jack's face hardened, as though he had been caught off guard. "I guess
+you did, all right."
+
+"Well, I'm sorry. I just couldn't think straight. It was the first time
+I'd ever been--apart from him."
+
+"I still say he doesn't belong aboard," Jack said. "This is a medical
+ship, not a menagerie. And if you ever lay your hands on me again,
+you'll wish you hadn't."
+
+"I said I was sorry," Dal said.
+
+"I heard you," Jack said. "I just don't believe you, that's all."
+
+He gave Fuzzy a final glance, and then headed back to the control room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fuzzy recovered, a much abashed and subdued Fuzzy, clinging timorously
+to Dal's shoulder and refusing to budge for three days, but apparently
+basically unharmed by his inadvertent swim in the deadly formalin bath.
+Presently he seemed to forget the experience altogether, and once again
+took his perch on the platform in the control room.
+
+But Dal did not forget. He said little to Tiger and Jack, but the
+incident had shaken him severely. For as long as he could remember, he
+had always had Fuzzy close at hand. He had never before in his life
+experienced the dreadful feeling of emptiness and desertion, the almost
+paralyzing fear and helplessness that he had felt when Fuzzy had lost
+contact with him. It had seemed as though a vital part of him had
+suddenly been torn away, and the memory of the panic that followed sent
+chills down his back and woke him up trembling from his sleep. He was
+ashamed of his unwarranted attack on Jack, yet even this seemed
+insignificant in comparison to the powerful fear that had been driving
+him.
+
+Happily, the Blue Doctor chose to let the matter rest where it was, and
+if anything, seemed more willing than before to be friendly. For the
+first time he seemed to take an active interest in Fuzzy, "chatting"
+with him when he thought no one was around, and bringing him occasional
+tid-bits of food after meals were over.
+
+Once more life on the _Lancet_ settled back to routine, only to have it
+shattered by an incident of quite a different nature. It was just after
+they had left a small planet in the Procyon system, one of the routine
+check-in points, that they made contact with the Garvian trading ship.
+
+Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before the signals
+came in, and could hardly contain his excitement. He had not seen a
+fellow countryman for years except for an occasional dull luncheon with
+the Garvian ambassador to Hospital Earth during medical school days. The
+thought of walking the corridors of a Garvian trading ship again brought
+an overwhelming wave of homesickness. He was so excited he could hardly
+wait for Jack to complete the radio-sighting formalities. "What ship is
+she?" he wanted to know. "What house?"
+
+Jack handed him the message transcript. "The ship is the _Teegar_," he
+said. "Flagship of the SinSin trading fleet. They want permission to
+approach us."
+
+Dal let out a whoop. "Then it's a space trader, and a big one. You've
+never seen ships like these before."
+
+Tiger joined them, staring at the message transcript. "A SinSin ship!
+Send them the word, Jack, and be quick, before they get disgusted and
+move on."
+
+Jack sent out the approach authorization, and they watched with growing
+excitement as the great trading vessel began its close-approach
+maneuvers.
+
+The name of the house of SinSin was famous throughout the galaxy. It was
+one of the oldest and largest of the great trading firms that had built
+Garv II into its position of leadership in the Confederation, and the
+SinSin ships had penetrated to every corner of the galaxy, to every
+known planet harboring an intelligent life-form.
+
+Tiger and Jack had seen the multitudes of exotic products in the
+Hospital Earth stores that came from the great Garvian ships on their
+frequent visits. But this was more than a planetary trader loaded with a
+few items for a single planet. The space traders roamed from star system
+to star system, their holds filled with treasures beyond number. Such
+ships as these might be out from Garv II for decades at a time,
+tempting any ship they met with the magnificent variety of wares they
+carried.
+
+Slowly the trader approached, and Dal took the speaker, addressing the
+commander of the _Teegar_ in Garvian. "This is the General Practice
+Patrol Ship _Lancet_," he said, "out from Hospital Earth with three
+physicians aboard, including a countryman of yours."
+
+"Is that Dal Timgar?" the reply came back. "By the Seven Moons! We'd
+heard that there was now a Garvian physician, and couldn't believe our
+ears. Come aboard, all of you, you'll be welcome. We'll send over a
+lifeboat!"
+
+The _Teegar_ was near now, a great gleaming ship with the sign of the
+house of SinSin on her hull. A lifeboat sprang from a launching rack and
+speared across to the _Lancet_. Moments later the three doctors were
+climbing into the sleek little vessel and moving across the void of
+space to the huge Garvian ship.
+
+It was like stepping from a jungle outpost village into a magnificent,
+glittering city. The Garvian ship was enormous; she carried a crew of
+several hundred, and the wealth and luxury of the ship took the
+Earthmen's breath away. The cabins and lounges were paneled with
+expensive fabrics and rare woods, the furniture inlaid with precious
+metals. Down the long corridors goods of the traders were laid out in
+resplendent display, surpassing the richest show cases in the shops on
+Hospital Earth.
+
+They received a royal welcome from the commander of the _Teegar_, an
+aged, smiling little Garvian with a pink fuzz-ball on his shoulder that
+could have been Fuzzy's twin. He bowed low to Tiger and Jack, leading
+them into the reception lounge where a great table was spread with foods
+and pastries of all varieties. Then he turned to Dal and embraced him
+like a long-lost brother. "Your father Jai Timgar has long been an
+honored friend of the house of SinSin, and anyone of the house of Timgar
+is the same as my own son and my son's son! But this collar! This cuff!
+Is it really possible that a man of Garv has become a physician of
+Hospital Earth?"
+
+Dal touched Fuzzy to the commander's fuzz-ball in the ancient Garvian
+greeting. "It's possible, and true," he said. "I studied there. I am the
+Red Doctor on this patrol ship."
+
+"Ah, but this is good," the commander said. "What better way to draw our
+worlds together, eh? But come, you must look and see what we have in our
+storerooms, feast your eyes on the splendors we carry. For all of you, a
+thousand wonders are to be found here."
+
+Jack hesitated as the commander led them back toward the display
+corridors. "We'd be glad to see the ship, but you should know that
+patrol ship physicians have little money to spend."
+
+"Who speaks of money?" the commander cried. "Did I speak of it? Come and
+look! Money is nothing. The Garvian traders are not mere money-changers.
+Look and enjoy; if there is something that strikes your eye, something
+that would fulfill the desires of your heart, it will be yours." He gave
+Dal a smile and a sly wink. "Surely our brother here has told you many
+times of the wonders to be seen in a space trader, and terms can be
+arranged that will make any small purchase a painless pleasure."
+
+He led them off, like a head of state conducting visiting dignitaries on
+a tour, with a retinue of Garvian underlings trailing behind them. For
+two delirious hours they wandered the corridors of the great ship,
+staring hungrily at the dazzling displays. They had been away from
+Hospital Earth and its shops and stores for months; now it seemed they
+were walking through an incredible treasure-trove stocked with
+everything that they could possibly have wanted.
+
+For Jack there was a dress uniform, specially tailored for a physician
+in the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the insignia woven into the cloth with
+gold and platinum thread. Reluctantly he turned away from it, a luxury
+he could never dream of affording. For Tiger, who had been muttering for
+weeks about getting out of condition in the sedentary life of the ship,
+there was a set of bar bells and gymnasium equipment ingeniously
+designed to collapse into a unit no larger than one foot square, yet
+opening out into a completely equipped gym. Dal's eyes glittered at the
+new sets of surgical instruments, designed to the most rigid Hospital
+Earth specifications, which appeared almost without his asking to see
+them. There were clothes and games, precious stones and exotic rings,
+watches set with Arcturian dream-stones, and boots inlaid with silver.
+
+They made their way through the corridors, reluctant to leave one
+display for the next. Whenever something caught their eyes, the
+commander snapped his fingers excitedly, and the item was unobtrusively
+noted down by one of the underlings. Finally, exhausted and glutted just
+from looking, they turned back toward the reception room.
+
+"The things are beautiful," Tiger said wistfully, "but impossible.
+Still, you were very kind to take your time--"
+
+"Time? I have nothing but time." The commander smiled again at Dal. "And
+there is an old Garvian proverb that to the wise man 'impossible' has no
+meaning. Wait, you will see!"
+
+They came out into the lounge, and the doctors stopped short in
+amazement. Spread out before them were all of the items that had
+captured their interest earlier.
+
+"But this is ridiculous," Jack said staring at the dress uniform. "We
+couldn't possibly buy these things, it would take our salaries for
+twenty years to pay for them."
+
+"Have we mentioned price even once?" the commander protested. "You are
+the crewmates of one of our own people! We would not dream of setting
+prices that we would normally set for such trifles as these. And as for
+terms, you have no worry. Take the goods aboard your ship, they are
+already yours. We have drawn up contracts for you which require no
+payment whatever for five years, and then payments of only a fiftieth of
+the value for each successive year. And for each of you, with the
+compliments of the house of SinSin, a special gift at no charge
+whatever."
+
+He placed in Jack's hands a small box with the lid tipped back. Against
+a black velvet lining lay a silver star, and the official insignia of a
+Star Physician in the Blue Service. "You cannot wear it yet, of course,"
+the commander said. "But one day you will need it."
+
+Jack blinked at the jewel-like star. "You are very kind," he said. "I--I
+mean perhaps--" He looked at Tiger, and then at the display of goods on
+the table. "Perhaps there are _some_ things--"
+
+Already two of the Garvian crewmen were opening the lock to the
+lifeboat, preparing to move the goods aboard. Then Dal Timgar spoke up
+sharply. "I think you'd better wait a moment," he said.
+
+"And for you," the commander continued, turning to Dal so smoothly that
+there seemed no break in his voice at all, "as one of our own people,
+and an honored son of Jai Timgar, who has been kind to the house of
+SinSin for many years, I have something out of the ordinary. I'm sure
+your crewmates would not object to a special gift at my personal
+expense."
+
+The commander lifted a scarf from the table and revealed the glittering
+set of surgical instruments, neatly displayed in a velvet-lined carrying
+case. The commander took it up from the table and thrust it into Dal's
+hands. "It is yours, my friend. And for this, there will be no contract
+whatever."
+
+Dal stared down at the instruments. They were beautiful. He longed just
+to touch them, to hold them in his hands, but he shook his head and set
+the case back on the table. He looked up at Tiger and Jack. "You should
+be warned that the prices on these goods are four times what they ought
+to be, and the deferred-payment contracts he wants you to sign will
+permit as much as 24 per cent interest on the unpaid balance, with no
+closing-out clause. That means you would be paying many times the stated
+price for the goods before the contract is closed. You can go ahead and
+sign if you want but understand what you're signing."
+
+The Garvian commander stared at him, and then shook his head, laughing.
+"Of course your friend is not serious," he said. "These prices can be
+compared on any planet and you will see their fairness. Here, read the
+contracts, see what they say and decide for yourselves." He held out a
+sheaf of papers.
+
+"The contracts may sound well enough," Dal said, "but I'm telling you
+what they actually say."
+
+Jack looked stricken. "But surely just one or two things--"
+
+Tiger shook his head. "Dal knows what he's talking about. I don't think
+we'd better buy anything at all."
+
+The Garvian commander turned to Dal angrily. "What are you telling them?
+There is nothing false in these contracts!"
+
+"I didn't say there was. I just can't see them taking a beating with
+their eyes shut, that's all. Your contracts are legal enough, but the
+prices and terms are piracy, and you know it."
+
+The commander glared at him for a moment. Then he turned away
+scornfully. "So what I have heard is true, after all," he said. "You
+really have thrown in your lot with these pill-peddlers, these idiots
+from Earth who can't even wipe their noses without losing in a trade."
+He signaled the lifeboat pilot. "Take them back to their ship, we're
+wasting our time. There are better things to do than to deal with
+traitors."
+
+The trip back to the _Lancet_ was made in silence. Dal could sense the
+pilot's scorn as he dumped them off in their entrance lock, and dashed
+back to the _Teegar_ with the lifeboat. Gloomily Jack and Tiger followed
+Dal into the control room, a drab little cubby-hole compared to the
+_Teegar_'s lounge.
+
+"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Jack said finally, looking up at
+Dal. "But the way that guy slammed you, I wish we'd never gone."
+
+"I know," Dal said. "The commander just thought he saw a perfect setup.
+He figured you'd never question the contracts if I backed him up."
+
+"It would have been easy enough. Why didn't you?"
+
+Dal looked at the Blue Doctor. "Maybe I just don't like people who give
+away surgical sets," he said. "Remember, I'm not a Garvian trader any
+more. I'm a doctor from Hospital Earth."
+
+Moments later, the great Garvian ship was gone, and the red light was
+blinking on the call board. Tiger started tracking down the call while
+Jack went back to work on the daily log book and Dal set up food for
+dinner. The pleasant dreams were over; they were back in the harness of
+patrol ship doctors once again.
+
+Jack and Dal were finishing dinner when Tiger came back with a puzzled
+frown on his face. "Finally traced that call. At least I think I did.
+Anybody ever hear of a star called 31 Brucker?"
+
+"Brucker?" Jack said. "It isn't on the list of contracts. What's the
+trouble?"
+
+"I'm not sure," Tiger said. "I'm not even certain if it's a call or not.
+Come on up front and see what you think."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 8
+
+PLAGUE!
+
+
+In the control room the interstellar radio and teletype-translator were
+silent. The red light on the call board was still blinking; Tiger turned
+it off with a snap. "Here's the message that just came in, as near as I
+can make out," he said, "and if you can make sense of it, you're way
+ahead of me."
+
+The message was a single word, teletyped in the center of a blue
+dispatch sheet:
+
+      GREETINGS
+
+"This is all?" Jack said.
+
+"That's every bit of it. They repeated it half a dozen times, just like
+that."
+
+"_Who_ repeated it?" Dal asked. "Where are the identification symbols?"
+
+"There weren't any," said Tiger. "Our own computer designated 31 Brucker
+from the direction and intensity of the signal. The question is, what do
+we do?"
+
+The message stared up at them cryptically. Dal shook his head. "Doesn't
+give us much to go on, that's certain. Even the location could be wrong
+if the signal came in on an odd frequency or from a long distance. Let's
+beam back at the same direction and intensity and see what happens."
+
+Tiger took the earphones and speaker, and turned the signal beam to
+coincide with the direction of the incoming message.
+
+"We have your contact. Can you hear me? Who are you and what do you
+want?"
+
+There was a long delay and they thought the contact was lost. Then a
+voice came whispering through the static. "Where is your ship now? Are
+you near to us?"
+
+"We need your co-ordinates in order to tell," Tiger said. "Who are you?"
+
+Again a long pause and a howl of static. Then: "If you are far away it
+will be too late. We have no time left, we are dying...."
+
+Abruptly the voice message broke off and co-ordinates began coming
+through between bursts of static. Tiger scribbled them down, piecing
+them together through several repetitions. "Check these out fast," he
+told Jack. "This sounds like real trouble." He tossed Dal another pair
+of earphones and turned back to the speaker. "Are you a contract
+planet?" he signaled. "Do we have a survey on you?"
+
+There was a much longer pause. Then the voice came back, "No, we have no
+contract. We are all dying, but if you must have a contract to come...."
+
+"Not at all," Tiger sent back. "We're coming. Keep your frequency open.
+We will contact again when we are closer."
+
+He tossed down the earphones and looked excitedly at Dal. "Did you hear
+that? A planet calling for help, with no Hospital Earth contract!"
+
+"They sound desperate," Dal said. "We'd better go there, contract or no
+contract."
+
+"Of course we'll go there, you idiot. See if Jack has those co-ordinates
+charted, and start digging up information on them, everything you can
+find. We need all of the dope we can get and we need it fast. This is
+our golden chance to seal a contract with a new planet."
+
+All three of the doctors fell to work trying to identify the mysterious
+caller. Dal began searching the information file for data on 31 Brucker,
+punching all the reference tags he could think of, as well as the
+galactic co-ordinates of the planet. He could hardly control his fingers
+as the tapes with possible references began plopping down into the
+slots. Tiger was right; this was almost too good to be true. When a
+planet without a medical service contract called a GPP Ship for help,
+there was always hope that a brand new contract might be signed if the
+call was successful. And no greater honor could come to a patrol craft
+crew than to be the originators of a new contract for Hospital Earth.
+
+But there were problems in dealing with uncontacted planets. Many star
+systems had never been explored by ships of the Confederation. Many
+races, like Earthmen at the time their star-drive was discovered, had no
+inkling of the existence of a Galactic Confederation of worlds. There
+might be no information whatever about the special anatomical and
+physiological characteristics of the inhabitants of an uncontacted
+planet, and often a patrol crew faced insurmountable difficulties,
+coming in blind to solve a medical problem.
+
+Dal had his information gathered first--a disappointingly small amount
+indeed. Among the billions of notes on file in the _Lancet_'s data bank,
+there were only two scraps of data available on the 31 Brucker system.
+
+"Is this all you could find?" Tiger said, staring at the information
+slips.
+
+"There's just nothing else there," Dal said. "This one is a description
+and classification of the star, and it doesn't sound like the one who
+wrote it had even been near it."
+
+"He hadn't," Tiger said. "This is a routine radio-telescopic survey
+report. The star is a red giant. Big and cold, with three--possibly
+four--planets inside the outer envelope of the star itself, and only one
+outside it. Nothing about satellites. None of the planets thought to be
+habitable by man. What's the other item?"
+
+"An exploratory report on the outer planet, done eight hundred years
+ago. Says it's an Earth-type planet, and not much else. Gives reference
+to the full report in the Confederation files. Not a word about an
+intelligent race living there."
+
+"Well, maybe Jack's got a bit more for us," Tiger said. "If the place
+has been explored, there must be _some_ information about the
+inhabitants."
+
+But Jack also came up with a blank. Central Records on Hospital Earth
+sent back a physical description of a tiny outer planet of the star,
+with a thin oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, very little water, and enough
+methane mixed in to make the atmosphere deadly to Earthmen.
+
+"Then there's never been a medical service contract?" Tiger asked.
+
+"Contract!" Jack said. "It doesn't even say there are any people there.
+Not a word about any kind of life form."
+
+"Well, that's ridiculous," Dal said. "If we're getting messages from
+there, somebody must be sending them. But if a Confederation ship
+explored there, there's a way to find out. How soon can we convert to
+star-drive?"
+
+"As soon as we can get strapped down," Tiger said.
+
+"Then send our reconversion co-ordinates to the Confederation
+headquarters on Garv II and request the Confederation records on the
+place."
+
+Jack stared at him. "You mean just ask to see Confederation records? We
+can't do that, they'd skin us alive. Those records are closed to
+everyone except full members of the Confederation."
+
+"Tell them it's an emergency," Dal said. "If they want to be legal about
+it, give them my Confederation serial number. Garv II is a member of the
+Confederation, and I'm a native-born citizen."
+
+Tiger got the request off while Jack and Dal strapped down for the
+conversion to Koenig drive. Five minutes later Tiger joined them,
+grinning from ear to ear. "Didn't even have to pull rank," he said.
+"When they started to argue, I just told them it was an emergency, and
+if they didn't let us see any records they had, we would file their
+refusal against claims that might come up later. They quit arguing.
+We'll have the records as soon as we reconvert."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The star that they were seeking was a long distance from the current
+location of the _Lancet_. The ship was in Koenig drive for hours before
+it reconverted, and even Dal was beginning to feel the first pangs of
+drive-sickness before they felt the customary jolting vibration of the
+change to normal space, and saw bright stars again in the viewscreen.
+
+The star called 31 Brucker was close then. It was indeed a red giant;
+long tenuous plumes of gas spread out for hundreds of millions of miles
+on all sides of its glowing red core. This mammoth star did not look so
+cold now, as they stared at it in the viewscreen, yet among the family
+of stars it was a cold, dying giant with only a few moments of life left
+on the astronomical time scale. From the _Lancet_'s position, no
+planets at all were visible to the naked eye, but with the telescope
+Jack soon found two inside the star's envelope of gas and one tiny one
+outside. They would have to be searched for, and the one that they were
+hoping to reach located before centering and landing maneuvers could be
+begun.
+
+Already the radio was chattering with two powerful signals coming in.
+One came from the Galactic Confederation headquarters on Garv II; the
+other was a good clear signal from very close range, unquestionably
+beamed to them from the planet in distress.
+
+They watched as the Confederation report came clacking off the teletype,
+and they stared at it unbelieving.
+
+"It just doesn't make sense," Jack said. "There _must_ be intelligent
+creatures down there. They're sending radio signals."
+
+"Then why a report like this?" Tiger said. "This was filed by a routine
+exploratory ship that came here eight hundred years ago. You can't tell
+me that any intelligent race could develop from scratch in less than
+eight centuries' time."
+
+Dal picked up the report and read it again. "This red giant star," he
+read, "was studied in the usual fashion. It was found to have seven
+planets, all but one lying within the tenuous outer gas envelope of the
+star itself. The seventh planet has an atmosphere of its own, and
+travels an orbit well outside the star surface. This planet was selected
+for landing and exploration."
+
+Following this was a long, detailed and exceedingly dull description of
+the step-by-step procedure followed by a Confederation exploratory ship
+making a first landing on a barren planet. There was a description of
+the atmosphere, the soil surface, the land masses and major water
+bodies. Physically, the planet was a desert, hot and dry, and barren of
+vegetation excepting in two or three areas of jungle along the equator.
+"The planet is inhabited by numerous small unintelligent animal species
+which seem well-adapted to the semi-arid conditions. Of higher animals
+and mammals only two species were discovered, and of these the most
+highly developed was an erect biped with an integrated central nervous
+system and the intelligence level of a Garvian _drachma_."
+
+"How small is that?" Jack said.
+
+"Idiot-level," Dal said glumly. "I.Q. of about 20 on the human scale. I
+guess the explorers weren't much impressed; they didn't even put the
+planet down for a routine colonization survey."
+
+"Well, _something_ has happened down there since then. Idiots can't
+build interstellar radios." Jack turned to Tiger. "Are you getting
+them?"
+
+Tiger nodded. A voice was coming over the speaker, hesitant and
+apologetic, using the common tongue of the Galactic Confederation. "How
+soon can you come?" the voice was asking clearly, still with the sound
+of great reticence. "There is not much time."
+
+"But who are you?" Tiger asked. "What's wrong down there?"
+
+"We are sick, dying, thousands of us. But if you have other work that is
+more pressing, we would not want to delay you--"
+
+Jack shook his head, frowning. "I don't get this," he said. "What are
+they afraid of?"
+
+Tiger spoke into the microphone again. "We will be glad to help, but we
+need information about you. You have our position--can you send up a
+spokesman to tell us your problem?"
+
+A long pause, and then the voice came back wearily. "It will be done.
+Stand by to receive him."
+
+Tiger snapped off the radio receiver and looked up triumphantly at the
+others. "Now we're getting somewhere. If the people down there can send
+a ship out with a spokesman to tell us about their troubles, we've got a
+chance to sew up a contract, and that could mean a Star for every one of
+us."
+
+"Yes, but who are they?" Dal said. "And where were they when the
+Confederation ship was here?"
+
+"I don't know," Jack said, "but I'll bet you both that we have quite a
+time finding out."
+
+"Why?" Tiger said. "What do you mean?"
+
+"I mean we'd better be very careful here," Jack said darkly. "I don't
+know about you, but I think this whole business has a very strange
+smell."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was nothing strange about the Bruckian ship when it finally came
+into view. It was a standard design, surface-launching interplanetary
+craft, with separated segments on either side suggesting atomic engines.
+They saw the side jets flare as the ship maneuvered to come in alongside
+the _Lancet_.
+
+Grapplers were thrown out to bind the emissary ship to the _Lancet_'s
+hull, and Jack threw the switches to open the entrance lock and
+decontamination chambers. They had taken pains to describe the interior
+atmosphere of the patrol ship and warn the spokesman to keep himself in
+a sealed pressure suit. On the intercom viewscreens they saw the small
+suited figure cross from his ship into the _Lancet_'s lock, and watched
+as the sprays of formalin washed down the outside of the suit.
+
+Moments later the creature stepped out of the decontamination chamber.
+He was small and humanoid, with tiny fragile bones and pale, hairless
+skin. He stood no more than four feet high. More than anything else, he
+looked like a very intelligent monkey with a diminutive space suit
+fitting his fragile body. When he spoke the words came through the
+translator in English; but Dal recognized the flowing syllables of the
+universal language of the Galactic Confederation.
+
+"How do you know the common tongue?" he said. "There is no record of
+your people in our Confederation, yet you use our own universal
+language."
+
+The Bruckian nodded. "We know the language well. My people dread outside
+contact--it is a racial characteristic--but we hear the Confederation
+broadcasts and have learned to understand the common tongue." The
+space-suited stranger looked at the doctors one by one. "We also know of
+the good works of the ships from Hospital Earth, and now we appeal to
+you."
+
+"Why?" Jack said. "You gave us no information, nothing to go on."
+
+"There was no time," the creature said. "Death is stalking our land, and
+the people are falling at their plows. Thousands of us are dying, tens
+of thousands. Even I am infected and soon will be dead. Unless you can
+find a way to help us quickly, it will be too late, and my people will
+be wiped from the face of the planet."
+
+Jack looked grimly at Tiger and Dal. "Well," he said, "I guess that
+answers our question, all right. It looks as if we have a plague planet
+on our hands, whether we like it or not."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 9
+
+THE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE
+
+
+Slowly and patiently they drew the story from the emissary from the
+seventh planet of 31 Brucker.
+
+The small, monkey-like creature was painfully shy; he required constant
+reassurance that the doctors did not mind being called, that they wanted
+to help, and that a contract was not necessary in an emergency. Even at
+that the spokesman was reluctant to give details about the plague and
+about his stricken people. Every bit of information had to be extracted
+with patient questioning.
+
+By tacit consent the doctors did not even mention the strange fact that
+this very planet had been explored by a Confederation ship eight hundred
+years before and no sign of intelligent life had been found. The little
+creature before them seemed ready to turn and bolt at the first hint of
+attack or accusation. But bit by bit, a picture of the current situation
+on the planet developed.
+
+Whoever they were and wherever they had been when the Confederation ship
+had landed, there was unquestionably an intelligent race now inhabiting
+this lonely planet in the outer reaches of the solar system of 31
+Brucker. There was no doubt of their advancement; a few well-selected
+questions revealed that they had control of atomic power, a working
+understanding of the nature and properties of contra-terrene matter, and
+a workable star drive operating on the same basic principle as Earth's
+Koenig drive but which the Bruckians had never really used because of
+their shyness and fear of contact with other races. They also had an
+excellent understanding, thanks to their eavesdropping on Confederation
+interstellar radio chatter, of the existence and functions of the
+Galactic Confederation of worlds, and of Hospital Earth's work as
+physician to the galaxy.
+
+But about Bruckian anatomy, physiology or biochemistry, the little
+emissary would tell them nothing. He seemed genuinely frightened when
+they pressed him about the physical make-up of his people, as though
+their questions were somehow scraping a raw nerve. He insisted that his
+people knew nothing about the nature of the plague that had stricken
+them, and the doctors could not budge him an inch from his stand.
+
+But a plague had certainly struck.
+
+It had begun six months before, striking great masses of the people. It
+had walked the streets of the cities and the hills and valleys of the
+countryside. First three out of ten had been stricken, then four, then
+five. The course of the disease, once started, was invariably the same:
+first illness, weakness, loss of energy and interest, then gradually a
+fading away of intelligent responses, leaving thousands of creatures
+walking blank-faced and idiot-like about the streets and countryside.
+Ultimately even the ability to take food was lost, and after an interval
+of a week or so, death invariably ensued.
+
+Finally the doctors retired to the control room for a puzzled
+conference. "It's got to be an organism of some sort that's doing it,"
+Dal said. "There couldn't be an illness like this that wasn't caused by
+some kind of a parasitic germ or virus."
+
+"But how do we know?" Jack said. "We know nothing about these people
+except what we can see. We're going to have to do a complete biochemical
+and medical survey before we can hope to do anything."
+
+"But we aren't equipped for a real survey," Tiger protested.
+
+"We've got to do it anyway," Jack said. "If we can just learn enough to
+be sure it's an infectious illness, we might stand a chance of finding a
+drug that will cure it. Or at least a way to immunize the ones that
+aren't infected yet. If this is a virus infection, we might only need to
+find an antibody for inoculation to stop it in its tracks. But first we
+need a good look at the planet and some more of the people--both
+infected and healthy ones. We'd better make arrangements as fast as we
+can."
+
+An hour later they had reached an agreement with the Bruckian emissary.
+The _Lancet_ would be permitted to land on the planet's surface as soon
+as the doctors were satisfied that it was safe. For the time being the
+initial landings would be made in the patrol ship's lifeboats, with the
+_Lancet_ in orbit a thousand miles above the surface. Unquestionably the
+first job was diagnosis, discovering the exact nature of the illness and
+studying the afflicted people. This responsibility rested squarely on
+Jack's shoulders; he was the diagnostician, and Dal and Tiger willingly
+yielded to him in organizing the program.
+
+It was decided that Jack and Tiger would visit the planet's surface at
+once, while Dal stayed on the ship and set up the reagents and
+examining techniques that would be needed to measure the basic physical
+and biochemical characteristics of the Bruckians.
+
+Yet in all the excitement of planning, Dal could not throw off the
+lingering shadow of doubt in his mind, some instinctive voice of caution
+that seemed to say _watch out, be careful, go slowly! This may not be
+what it seems to be; you may be walking into a trap...._
+
+But it was only a faint voice, and easy to thrust aside as the planning
+went ahead full speed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It did not take very long for the crew of the _Lancet_ to realize that
+there was something very odd indeed about the small, self-effacing
+inhabitants of 31 Brucker VII.
+
+In fact, "odd" was not really quite the proper word for these creatures
+at all. No one knew better than the doctors of Hospital Earth that
+oddness was the rule among the various members of the galactic
+civilization. All sorts and varieties of life-forms had been discovered,
+described and studied, each with its singular differences, each with
+certain similarities, and each quite "odd" in reference to any of the
+others.
+
+In Dal this awareness of the oddness and difference of other races was
+particularly acute. He knew that to Tiger and Jack he himself seemed
+odd, both anatomically and in other ways. His fine gray fur and his
+four-fingered hands set him apart from them--he would never be mistaken
+for an Earthman, even in the densest fog. But these were comprehensible
+differences. His close attachment to Fuzzy was something else, and still
+seemed beyond their ability to understand.
+
+He had spent one whole evening patiently trying to make Jack understand
+just how his attachment to the little pink creature was more than just
+the fondness of a man for his dog.
+
+"Well, what would you call it, then?"
+
+"Symbiosis is probably the best word for it," Dal had replied. "Two
+life-forms live together, and each one helps the other--that's all
+symbiosis is. Together each one is better off than either one would be
+alone. We all of us live in symbiosis with the bacteria in our digestive
+tracts, don't we? We provide them with a place to live and grow, and
+they help us digest our food. It's a kind of a partnership--and Fuzzy
+and I are partners in the same sort of way."
+
+Jack had argued, and then lost his temper, and finally grudgingly agreed
+that he supposed he would have to tolerate it even if it didn't make
+sense to him.
+
+But the creatures on 31 Brucker VII were "odd" far beyond the reasonable
+limits of oddness--so far beyond it that the doctors could not believe
+the things that their eyes and their instruments were telling them.
+
+When Tiger and Jack came back to the _Lancet_ after their first trip to
+the planet's surface, they were visibly shaken. Geographically, they had
+found it just as it had been described in the exploratory reports--a
+barren, desert land with only a few large islands of vegetation in the
+equatorial regions.
+
+"But the people!" Jack said. "They don't fit into _any_ kind of pattern.
+They've got houses--at least I guess you'd call them houses--but every
+one of them is like every other one, and they're all crammed together in
+tight little bunches, with nothing for miles in between. They've got an
+advanced technology, a good communications system, manufacturing
+techniques and everything, but they just don't use them."
+
+"It's more than that," Tiger said. "They don't seem to _want_ to use
+them."
+
+"Well, it doesn't add up, to me," Jack said. "There are thousands of
+towns and cities down there, all of them miles apart, and yet they had
+to go dig an old rusty jet scooter out of storage and get the motor
+rebuilt just specially to take us from one place to another. I know
+things can get disorganized with a plague in the land, but this plague
+just hasn't been going on that long."
+
+"What about the sickness?" Dal asked. "Is it as bad as it sounded?"
+
+"Worse, if anything," Tiger said gloomily. "They're dying by the
+thousands, and I hope we got those suits of ours decontaminated, because
+I don't want any part of this disease."
+
+Graphically, he described the conditions they had found among the
+stricken people. There was no question that a plague was stalking the
+land. In the rutted mud roads of the villages and towns the dead were
+piled in gutters, and in all of the cities a deathly stillness hung over
+the streets. Those who had not yet succumbed to the illness were nursing
+and feeding the sick ones, but these unaffected ones were growing
+scarcer and scarcer. The whole living population seemed resigned to
+hopelessness, hardly noticing the strangers from the patrol ship.
+
+But worst of all were those in the final stages of the disease,
+wandering vaguely about the street, their faces blank and their jaws
+slack as though they were living in a silent world of their own, cut off
+from contact with the rest. "One of them almost ran into me," Jack said.
+"I was right in front of him, and he didn't see me or hear me."
+
+"But don't they have _any_ knowledge of antisepsis or isolation?" Dal
+asked.
+
+Tiger shook his head. "Not that we could see. They don't know what's
+causing this sickness. They think that it's some kind of curse, and
+they never dreamed that it might be kept from spreading."
+
+Already Tiger and Jack had taken the first routine steps to deal with
+the sickness. They gave orders to move the unaffected people in every
+town and village into isolated barracks and stockades. For half a day
+Tiger tried to explain ways to prevent the spread of a bacteria or
+virus-borne disease. The people had stared at him as if he were talking
+gibberish; finally he gave up trying to explain, and just laid down
+rules which the people were instructed to follow. Together they had
+collected standard testing specimens of body fluids and tissue from both
+healthy and afflicted Bruckians, and come back to the _Lancet_ for a
+breather.
+
+Now all three doctors began work on the specimens. Cultures were
+inoculated with specimens from respiratory tract, blood and tissue taken
+from both sick and well. Half a dozen fatal cases were brought to the
+ship under specially controlled conditions for autopsy examination, to
+reveal both the normal anatomical characteristics of this strange race
+of people and the damage the disease was doing. Down on the surface
+Tiger had already inoculated a dozen of the healthy ones with various
+radioactive isotopes to help outline the normal metabolism and
+biochemistry of the people. After a short sleep period on the _Lancet_,
+he went back down alone to follow up on these, leaving Dal and Jack to
+carry on the survey work in the ship's lab.
+
+It was a gargantuan task that faced them. They knew that in any race of
+creatures they could not hope to recognize the abnormal unless they knew
+what the normal was. That was the sole reason for the extensive
+biomedical surveys that were done on new contract planets. Under normal
+conditions, a survey crew with specialists in physiology, biochemistry,
+anatomy, radiology, pharmacology and pathology might spend months or
+even years on a new planet gathering base-line information. But here
+there was neither time nor facilities for such a study. Even in the
+twenty-four hours since the patrol ship arrived, the number of dead had
+increased alarmingly.
+
+Alone on the ship, Dal and Jack found themselves working as a well
+organized team. There was no time here for argument or duplicated
+efforts; everything the two doctors did was closely co-ordinated. Jack
+seemed to have forgotten his previous antagonism completely. There was a
+crisis here, and more work than three men could possibly do in the time
+available. "You handle anatomy and pathology," Jack told Dal at the
+beginning. "You can get the picture five times as fast as I can, and
+your pathology slides are better than most commercial ones. I can do the
+best job on the cultures, once I get the growth media all set up."
+
+Bit by bit they divided the labor, checking in with Tiger by radio on
+the results of the isotopes studies he was running on the planet's
+surface. Bit by bit the data was collected, and Earthman and Garvian
+worked more closely than ever before as the task that faced them
+appeared more and more formidable.
+
+But the results of their tests made no sense whatever. Tiger returned to
+the ship after forty-eight hours with circles under his eyes, looking as
+though he had been trampled in a crowd. "No sleep, that's all," he said
+breathlessly as he crawled out of his decontaminated pressure suit. "No
+time for it. I swear I ran those tests a dozen times and I still didn't
+get any answers that made sense."
+
+"The results you were sending up sounded plenty strange," Jack said.
+"What was the trouble?"
+
+"I don't know," Tiger said, "but if we're looking for a biological
+pattern here, we haven't found it yet as far as I can see."
+
+"No, we certainly haven't," Dal exploded. "I thought I was doing
+something wrong somehow, because these blood chemistries I've been doing
+have been ridiculous. I can't even find a normal level for blood sugar,
+and as for the enzyme systems...." He tossed a sheaf of notes down on
+the counter in disgust. "I don't see how these people could even be
+alive, with a botched-up metabolism like this! I've never heard of
+anything like it."
+
+"What kind of pathology did you find?" Tiger wanted to know.
+
+"Nothing," Dal said. "Nothing at all. I did autopsies on the six that
+you brought up here and made slides of every different kind of tissue I
+could find. The anatomy is perfectly clear cut, no objections there.
+These people are very similar to Earth-type monkeys in structure, with
+heart and lungs and vocal cords and all. But I can't find any reason why
+they should be dying. Any luck with the cultures?"
+
+Jack shook his head glumly. "No growth on any of the plates. At first I
+thought I had something going, but if I did, it died, and I can't find
+any sign of it in the filtrates."
+
+"But we've got to have _something_ to work on," Tiger said desperately.
+"Look, there are some things that always measure out the same in _any_
+intelligent creature no matter where he comes from. That's the whole
+basis of galactic medicine. Creatures may develop and adapt in different
+ways, but the basic biochemical reactions are the same."
+
+"Not here, they aren't," Dal said. "Take a look at these tests!"
+
+They carried the heap of notes they had collected out into the control
+room and began sifting and organizing the data, just as a survey team
+would do, trying to match it with the pattern of a thousand other
+living creatures that had previously been studied. Hours passed, and
+they were farther from an answer than when they began.
+
+Because this data did not fit a pattern. It was _different_. No two
+individuals showed the same reactions. In every test the results were
+either flatly impossible or completely the opposite of what was
+expected.
+
+Carefully they retraced their steps, trying to pinpoint what could be
+going wrong.
+
+"There's _got_ to be a laboratory error," Dal said wearily. "We must
+have slipped up somewhere."
+
+"But I don't see where," Jack said. "Let's see those culture tubes
+again. And put on a pot of coffee. I can't even think straight any
+more."
+
+Of the three of them, Jack was beginning to show the strain the most.
+This was his special field, the place where he was supposed to excel,
+and nothing was happening. Reports coming up from the planet were
+discouraging; the isolation techniques they had tried to institute did
+not seem to be working, and the spread of the plague was accelerating.
+The communiques from the Bruckians were taking on a note of desperation.
+
+Jack watched each report with growing apprehension. He moved restlessly
+from lab to control room, checking and rechecking things, trying to find
+some sign of order in the chaos.
+
+"Try to get some sleep," Dal urged him. "A couple of hours will freshen
+you up a hundred per cent."
+
+"I can't, I've already tried it," Jack said.
+
+"Go ahead. Tiger and I can keep working on these things for a while."
+
+"No, no, it's not that," Jack said. "Without a diagnosis, we can't do a
+thing. Until we have that, our hands are tied, and we aren't even
+getting close to it. We don't even know whether this is a bacteria, or a
+virus, or what. Maybe the Bruckians are right. Maybe it's a curse."
+
+"I don't think the Black Service of Pathology would buy that for a
+diagnosis," Tiger said sourly.
+
+"The Black Service would choke on it--but what other answer do we have?
+You two have been doing all you can, but diagnosis is _my_ job. I'm
+supposed to be good at it, but the more we dig into this, the farther
+away we seem to get."
+
+"Do you want to call for help?" Tiger said.
+
+Jack shook his head helplessly. "I'm beginning to think we should have
+called for help a long time ago," he said. "We're into this over our
+heads now and we're still going down. At the rate those people are dying
+down there, we don't have time to call for help now." He stared at the
+piles of notes on the desk and his face was very white. "I don't know, I
+just don't know," he said. "The diagnosis on this thing should have been
+duck soup. I thought it was going to be a real feather in my cap, just
+walking in and nailing it down in a few hours. Well, I'm whipped. I
+don't know what to do. If either of you can think of an answer, it's all
+yours, and I'll admit it to Black Doctor Tanner himself."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was bitter medicine for Blue Doctor Jack Alvarez to swallow, but that
+fact gave no pleasure to Dal or Tiger now. They were as baffled as Jack
+was, and would have welcomed help from anyone who could offer it.
+
+And, ironically, the first glimpse of the truth came from the direction
+they least expected.
+
+From the very beginning Fuzzy had been watching the proceedings from his
+perch on the swinging platform in the control room. If he sensed that
+Dal Timgar was ignoring him and leaving him to his own devices much of
+the time, he showed no sign of resentment. The tiny creature seemed to
+realize that something important was consuming his master's energy and
+attention, and contented himself with an affectionate pat now and then
+as Dal went through the control room. Everyone assumed without much
+thought that Fuzzy was merely being tolerant of the situation. It was
+not until they had finally given up in desperation and Tiger was trying
+to contact a Hospital Ship for help, that Dal stared up at his little
+pink friend with a puzzled frown.
+
+Tiger put the transmitter down for a moment. "What's wrong?" he said to
+Dal. "You look as though you just bit into a rotten apple."
+
+"I just remembered that I haven't fed him for twenty-four hours," Dal
+said.
+
+"Who? Fuzzy?" Tiger shrugged. "He could see you were busy."
+
+Dal shook his head. "That wouldn't make any difference to Fuzzy. When he
+gets hungry, he gets hungry, and he's pretty self-centered. It wouldn't
+matter what I was doing, he should have been screaming for food hours
+ago."
+
+Dal walked over to the platform and peered down at his pink friend in
+alarm. He took him up and rested him on his shoulder, a move that
+invariably sent Fuzzy into raptures of delight. Now the little creature
+just sat there, trembling and rubbing half-heartedly against Dal's neck.
+
+Dal held him out at arm's length. "Fuzzy, _what's the matter with you?_"
+
+"Do you think something's wrong with him?" Jack said, looking up
+suddenly. "Looks like he's having trouble keeping his eyes open."
+
+"His color isn't right, either," Tiger said. "He looks kind of blue."
+
+Quite suddenly the little black eyes closed and Fuzzy began to tremble
+violently. He drew himself up into a tight pink globule as the fuzz-like
+hair disappeared from view.
+
+Something was unmistakably wrong. As he held the shivering creature, Dal
+was suddenly aware that something had been nibbling at the back of his
+mind for hours. Not a clear-cut thought, merely an impression of pain
+and anguish and sickness, and now as he looked at Fuzzy the impression
+grew so strong it almost made him cry out.
+
+Abruptly, Dal knew what he had to do. Where the thought came from he
+didn't know, but it was crystal clear in his mind. "Jack, where is our
+biggest virus filter?" he asked quietly.
+
+Jack stared at him. "Virus filter? I just took it out of the autoclave
+an hour ago."
+
+"Get it," Dal said, "and the suction machine too. _Quickly!_"
+
+Jack went down the corridor like a shot, and reappeared a moment later
+with the big porcelain virus filter and the suction tubing attached to
+it. Swiftly Dal dumped the limp little creature in his hand into the top
+of the filter jar, poured in some sterile saline, and started the
+suction.
+
+Tiger and Jack watched him in amazement. "What are you doing?" Tiger
+said.
+
+"Filtering him," Dal said. "He's infected. He must have been exposed to
+the plague somehow, maybe when our little Bruckian visitor came on board
+the other day. And if it's a virus that's causing this plague, the virus
+filter ought to hold it back and still let Fuzzy's molecular structure
+through."
+
+They watched and sure enough a bluish-pink fluid began moving down
+through the porcelain filter, and dripping through the funnel into the
+beaker below. Each drop coalesced in the beaker as it fell until Fuzzy's
+whole body had been sucked through the filter and into the jar below. He
+was still not quite his normal pink color, but as the filter went dry,
+a pair of frightened shoe-button eyes appeared and he poked up a pair of
+ears. Presently the fuzz began appearing on his body again.
+
+And on the top of the filter lay a faint gray film. "Don't touch it!"
+Dal said. "That's real poison." He slipped on a mask and gloves, and
+scraped a bit of the film from the filter with a spatula. "I think we
+have it," he said. "The virus that's causing the plague on this
+planet."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 10
+
+THE BOOMERANG CLUE
+
+
+It was a virus, beyond doubt. The electron microscope told them that,
+now that they had the substance isolated and could examine it. In the
+culture tubes in the _Lancet_'s incubators, it would begin to grow
+nicely, and then falter and die, but when guinea pigs were inoculated in
+the ship's laboratory, the substance proved its virulence. The animals
+injected with tiny bits of the substance grew sick within hours and very
+quickly died.
+
+The call to the Hospital Ship was canceled as the three doctors worked
+in feverish excitement. Here at last was something they could grapple
+with, something so common among the races of the galaxy that the doctors
+felt certain that they could cope with it. Very few, if any, higher life
+forms existed that did not have some sort of submicroscopic parasite
+afflicting them. Bacterial infection was a threat on every inhabited
+world, and the viruses--the tiniest of all submicroscopic
+organisms--were the most difficult and dangerous of them all.
+
+And yet virus plagues had been stopped before, and they could be stopped
+again.
+
+Jack radioed down to the planet's surface that the diagnosis had been
+made; as soon as the proper medications could be prepared, the doctors
+would land to begin treatment. There was a new flicker of hopefulness in
+the Bruckian's response, and an appeal to hurry. With renewed energy the
+doctors went back to the lab to start working on the new data.
+
+But trouble continued to dog them. This was no ordinary virus. It proved
+resistant to every one of the antibiotics and antiviral agents in the
+_Lancet_'s stockroom. No drug seemed to affect it, and its molecular
+structure was different from any virus that had ever been recorded
+before.
+
+"If one of the drugs would only just slow it up a little, we'd be
+ahead," Tiger said in perplexity. "We don't have anything that even
+touches it, not even the purified globulins."
+
+"What about antibodies from the infected people?" Jack suggested. "In
+every virus disease I've ever heard of, the victim's own body starts
+making antibodies against the invading virus. If enough antibodies are
+made fast enough, the virus dies and the patient is immune from then
+on."
+
+"Well, these people don't seem to be making any antibodies at all,"
+Tiger said. "At least not as far as I can see. If they were, at least
+some of them would be recovering from the disease. So far not a single
+one has recovered once the thing started. They all just go ahead and
+die."
+
+"I wonder," Dal said, "if Fuzzy had any defense."
+
+Jack looked up. "How do you mean?"
+
+"Well, Fuzzy was infected, we know that. He might have died too, if we
+hadn't caught it in time--but as it worked out, he didn't. In fact, he
+looks pretty healthy right now."
+
+"That's fine for Fuzzy," Jack said impatiently, "but I don't see how we
+can push the whole population of 31 Brucker VII through a virus filter.
+They're flesh-and-blood creatures."
+
+"That's not what I mean," Dal said. "Maybe Fuzzy's body developed
+antibodies against the virus while he was infected. Remember, he doesn't
+have a rigid body structure like we do. He's mostly just basic protein,
+and he can synthesize pretty much anything he wants to or needs to."
+
+Jack blinked. "It's an idea, at least. Is there any way we can get some
+of his body fluid away from him? Without getting bit, I mean?"
+
+"No problem there," Dal said. "He can regenerate pretty fast if he has
+enough of the right kind of food. He won't miss an ounce or two of
+excess tissue."
+
+He took a beaker over to Fuzzy's platform and began squeezing off a
+little blob of pink material. Fuzzy seemed to sense what Dal wanted;
+obligingly he thrust out a little pseudopod which Dal pinched off into
+the beaker. With the addition of a small amount of saline solution, the
+tissue dissolved into thin, pink suspension.
+
+In the laboratory they found two or three of the guinea pigs in the last
+stages of the infection, and injected them with a tiny bit of the pink
+solution. The effect was almost unbelievable. Within twenty minutes all
+of the injected animals began to perk up, their eyes brighter, nibbling
+at the food in their cages, while the ones that had not been injected
+got sicker and sicker.
+
+"Well, there's our answer," Jack said eagerly. "If we can get some of
+this stuff injected into our friends down below, we may be able to
+protect the healthy ones from getting the plague, and cure the sick ones
+as well. If we still have enough time, that is."
+
+They had landing permission from the Bruckian spokesman within minutes,
+and an hour later the _Lancet_ made an orderly landing on a
+newly-repaved landing field near one of the central cities on the
+seventh planet of 31 Brucker.
+
+Tiger and Jack had obviously not exaggerated the strange appearance of
+the towns and cities on this plague-ridden planet, and Dal was appalled
+at the ravages of the disease that they had come to fight. Only one out
+of ten of the Bruckians was still uninfected, and another three out of
+the ten were clearly in the late stages of the disease, walking about
+blankly and blindly, stumbling into things in their paths, falling to
+the ground and lying mute and helpless until death came to release them.
+Under the glaring red sun, weary parties of stretcher bearers went about
+the silent streets, moving their grim cargo out to the mass graves at
+the edge of the city.
+
+The original spokesman who had come up to the _Lancet_ was dead, but
+another had taken his place as negotiator with the doctors--an older,
+thinner Bruckian who looked as if he carried the total burden of his
+people on his shoulders. He greeted them eagerly at the landing field.
+"You have found a solution!" he cried. "You have found a way to turn the
+tide--but hurry! Every moment now is precious."
+
+During the landing procedures, Dal had worked to prepare enough of the
+precious antibody suspension, with Fuzzy's co-operation, to handle a
+large number of inoculations. By the time the ship touched down he had a
+dozen flasks and several hundred syringes ready. Hundreds of the
+unafflicted people were crowding around the ship, staring in open wonder
+as Dal, Jack and Tiger came down the ladder and went into close
+conference with the spokesman.
+
+It took some time to explain to the spokesman why they could not begin
+then and there with the mass inoculations against the plague. First,
+they needed test cases, in order to make certain that what they thought
+would work in theory actually produced the desired results. Controls
+were needed, to be certain that the antibody suspension alone was
+bringing about the changes seen and not something else. At last, orders
+went out from the spokesman. Two hundred uninfected Bruckians were
+admitted to a large roped-off area near the ship, and another two
+hundred in late stages of the disease were led stumbling into another
+closed area. Preliminary skin-tests of the antibody suspension showed no
+sign of untoward reaction. Dal began filling syringes while Tiger and
+Jack started inoculating the two groups.
+
+"If it works with these cases, it will be simple to immunize the whole
+population," Tiger said. "From the amounts we used on the guinea pigs,
+it looks as if only tiny amounts are needed. We may even be able to
+train the Bruckians to give the injections themselves."
+
+"And if it works we ought to have a brand new medical service contract
+ready for signature with Hospital Earth," Jack added eagerly. "It won't
+be long before we have those Stars, you wait and see! If we can only get
+this done fast enough."
+
+They worked feverishly, particularly with the group of terminal cases.
+Many were dying even as the shots were being given, while the first
+symptoms of the disease were appearing in some of the unafflicted ones.
+Swiftly Tiger and Jack went from patient to patient while Dal kept check
+of the names, numbers and locations of those that were inoculated.
+
+And even before they were finished with the inoculations, it was
+apparent that they were taking effect. Not one of the infected patients
+died after inoculation was completed. The series took three hours, and
+by the time the four hundred doses were administered, one thing seemed
+certain: that the antibody was checking the deadly march of the disease
+in some way.
+
+The Bruckian spokesman was so excited he could hardly contain himself;
+he wanted to start bringing in the rest of the population at once.
+"We've almost exhausted this first batch of the material," Dal told him.
+"We will have to prepare more--but we will waste time trying to move a
+whole planet's population here. Get a dozen aircraft ready, and a dozen
+healthy, intelligent workers to help us. We can show them how to use the
+material, and let them go out to the other population centers all at
+once."
+
+Back aboard the ship they started preparing a larger quantity of the
+antibody suspension. Fuzzy had regenerated back to normal weight again,
+and much to Dal's delight had been splitting off small segments of pink
+protoplasm in a circle all around him, as though anticipating further
+demands on his resources. A quick test-run showed that the antibody was
+also being regenerated. Fuzzy was voraciously hungry, but the material
+in the second batch was still as powerful as in the first.
+
+The doctors were almost ready to go back down, loaded with enough
+inoculum and syringes to equip themselves and a dozen field workers when
+Jack suddenly stopped what he was doing and cocked an ear toward the
+entrance lock.
+
+"What's wrong?" Dal said.
+
+"Listen a minute."
+
+They stopped to listen. "I don't hear anything," Tiger said.
+
+Jack nodded. "I know. That's what I mean. They were hollering their
+heads off when we came back aboard. Why so quiet now?"
+
+He crossed over to the viewscreen scanning the field below, and flipped
+on the switch. For a moment he just stared. Then he said: "Come here a
+minute. I don't like the looks of this at all."
+
+Dal and Tiger crowded up to the screen. "What's the matter?" Tiger said.
+"I don't see ... _wait a minute!_"
+
+"Yes, you'd better look again," Jack said. "What do you think, Dal?"
+
+"We'd better get down there fast," Dal said, "and see what's going on.
+It looks to me like we've got a tiger by the tail...."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They climbed down the ladder once again, with the antibody flasks and
+sterile syringes strapped to their backs. But this time the greeting was
+different from before.
+
+The Bruckian spokesman and the others who had not yet been inoculated
+drew back from them in terror as they stepped to the ground. Before, the
+people on the field had crowded in eagerly around the ship; now they
+were standing in silent groups staring at the doctors fearfully and
+muttering among themselves.
+
+But the doctors could see only the inoculated people in the two
+roped-off areas. Off to the right among the infected Bruckians who had
+received the antibody there were no new dead--but there was no change
+for the better, either. The sick creatures drifted about aimlessly,
+milling like animals in a cage, their faces blank, their jaws slack,
+hands wandering foolishly. Not one of them had begun reacting normally,
+not one showed any sign of recognition or recovery.
+
+But the real horror was on the other side of the field. Here were the
+healthy ones, the uninfected ones who had received preventative
+inoculations. A few hours before they had been left standing in quiet,
+happy groups, talking among themselves, laughing and joking....
+
+But now they weren't talking any more. They stared across at the doctors
+with slack faces and dazed eyes, their feet shuffling aimlessly in the
+dust. All were alive, but only half-alive. The intelligence and
+alertness were gone from their faces; they were like the empty shells of
+the creatures they had been a few hours before, indistinguishable from
+the infected creatures in the other compound.
+
+Jack turned to the Bruckian spokesman in alarm. "What's happened here?"
+he asked. "What's become of the ones we inoculated? Where have you taken
+them?"
+
+The spokesman shrank back as though afraid Jack might reach out to touch
+him. "Taken them!" he cried. "We have moved none of them! Those are the
+ones you poisoned with your needles. What have you done to make them
+like this?"
+
+"It--it must be some sort of temporary reaction to the injection," Jack
+faltered. "There was nothing that we used that could possibly have given
+them the disease, we only used a substance to help them fight it off."
+
+The Bruckian was shaking his fist angrily. "It's no reaction, it is the
+plague itself! What kind of evil are you doing? You came here to help
+us, and instead you bring us more misery. Do we not have enough of that
+to please you?"
+
+Swiftly the doctors began examining the patients in both enclosures, and
+on each side they found the same picture. One by one they checked the
+ones that had previously been untouched by the plague, and found only
+the sagging jaws and idiot stares.
+
+"There's no sense examining every one," Tiger said finally. "They're all
+the same, every one."
+
+"But this is impossible," Jack said, glancing apprehensively at the
+growing mob of angry Bruckians outside the stockades. "What could have
+happened? What have we done?"
+
+"I don't know," Tiger said. "But whatever we've done has turned into a
+boomerang. We knew that the antibody might not work, and the disease
+might just go right ahead, but we didn't anticipate anything like this."
+
+"Maybe some foreign protein got into the batch," Dal said.
+
+Tiger shook his head. "It wouldn't behave like _this_. And we were
+careful getting it ready. All we've done was inject an antibody against
+a specific virus. All it could have done was to kill the virus, but
+these people act as though they're infected now."
+
+"But they're not dying," Dal said. "And the sick ones we injected
+stopped dying, too."
+
+"So what do we do now?" Jack said.
+
+"Get one of these that changed like this aboard ship and go over him
+with a fine-toothed comb. We've got to find out what's happened."
+
+He led one of the stricken Bruckians by the hand like a mindless dummy
+across the field toward the little group where the spokesman and his
+party stood. The crowd on the field were moving in closer; an angry cry
+went up when Dal touched the sick creature.
+
+"You'll have to keep this crowd under control," Dal said to the
+spokesman. "We're going to take this one aboard the ship and examine him
+to see what this reaction could be, but this mob is beginning to sound
+dangerous."
+
+"They're afraid," the spokesman said. "They want to know what you've
+done to them, what this new curse is that you bring in your syringes."
+
+"It's not a curse, but something has gone wrong. We need to learn what,
+in order to deal with it."
+
+"The people are afraid and angry," the spokesman said. "I don't know how
+long I can control them."
+
+And indeed, the attitude of the crowd around the ship was very strange.
+They were not just fearful; they were terrified. As the doctors walked
+back to the ship leading the stricken Bruckian behind them, the people
+shrank back with dreadful cries, holding up their hands as if to ward
+off some monstrous evil. Before, in the worst throes of the plague,
+there had been no sign of this kind of reaction. The people had seemed
+apathetic and miserable, resigned hopelessly to their fate, but now they
+were reacting in abject terror. It almost seemed that they were more
+afraid of these walking shells of their former selves than they were of
+the disease itself.
+
+But as the doctors started up the ladder toward the entrance lock the
+crowd surged in toward them with fists raised in anger. "We'd better get
+help, and fast," Jack said as he slammed the entrance lock closed behind
+them. "I don't like the looks of this a bit. Dal, we'd better see what
+we can learn from this poor creature here."
+
+As Tiger headed for the earphones, Dal and Jack went to work once again,
+checking the blood and other body fluids from the stricken Bruckian. But
+now, incredibly, the results of their tests were quite different from
+those they had obtained before. The blood sugar and protein
+determinations fell into the pattern they had originally expected for a
+creature of this type. Even more surprising, the level of the antibody
+against the plague virus was high--far higher than it could have been
+from the tiny amount that was injected into the creature.
+
+"They must have been making it themselves," Dal said, "and our
+inoculation was just the straw that broke the camel's back. All of those
+people must have been on the brink of symptoms of the infection, and
+all we did was add to the natural defenses they were already making."
+
+"Then why did the symptoms appear?" Jack said. "If that's true, we
+should have been _helping_ them, and look at them now!"
+
+Tiger appeared at the door, scowling. "We've got real trouble, now," he
+said. "I can't get through to a hospital ship. In fact, I can't get a
+message out at all. These people are jamming our radios."
+
+"But why?" Dal said.
+
+"I don't know, but take a look outside there."
+
+Through the viewscreen it seemed as though the whole field around the
+ship had filled up with the crowd. The first reaction of terror now
+seemed to have given way to blind fury; the people were shouting
+angrily, waving their clenched fists at the ship as the spokesman tried
+to hold them back.
+
+Then there was a resounding crash from somewhere below, and the ship
+lurched, throwing the doctors to the floor. They staggered to their feet
+as another blow jolted the ship, and another.
+
+"Let's get a screen up," Tiger shouted. "Jack, get the engines going.
+They're trying to board us, and I don't think it'll be much fun if they
+ever break in."
+
+In the control room they threw the switches that activated a powerful
+protective energy screen around the ship. It was a device that was
+carried by all GPP Ships as a means of protection against physical
+attack. When activated, an energy screen was virtually impregnable, but
+it could only be used briefly; the power it required placed an enormous
+drain on a ship's energy resources, and a year's nuclear fuel could be
+consumed in a few hours.
+
+Now the screen served its purpose. The ship steadied, still vibrating
+from the last assault, and the noise from below ceased abruptly. But
+when Jack threw the switches to start the engines, nothing happened at
+all.
+
+"Look at that!" he cried, staring at the motionless dials. "They're
+jamming our electrical system somehow. I can't get any turn-over."
+
+"Try it again," Tiger said. "We've got to get out of here. If they break
+in, we're done for."
+
+"They can't break through the screen," Dal said.
+
+"Not as long as it lasts. But we can't keep it up indefinitely."
+
+Once again they tried the radio equipment. There was no response but the
+harsh static of the jamming signal from the ground below. "It's no
+good," Tiger said finally. "We're stuck here, and we can't even call for
+help. You'd think if they were so scared of us they'd be glad to see us
+go."
+
+"I think there's more to it than that," Dal said thoughtfully. "This
+whole business has been crazy from the start. This just fits in with all
+the rest." He picked Fuzzy off his perch and set him on his shoulder as
+if to protect him from some unsuspected threat. "Maybe they're afraid of
+us, I don't know. But I think they're afraid of something else a whole
+lot worse."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There was nothing to be done but wait and stare hopelessly at the mass
+of notes and records that they had collected on the people of 31 Brucker
+VII and the plague that afflicted them.
+
+Until now, the _Lancet_'s crew had been too busy to stop and piece the
+data together, to try to see the picture as a whole. But now there was
+ample time, and the realization of what had been happening here began to
+dawn on them.
+
+They had followed the well-established principles step by step in
+studying these incredible people, and nothing had come out as it should.
+In theory, the steps they had taken should have yielded the answer. They
+had come to a planet where an entire population was threatened with a
+dreadful disease. They had identified the disease, found and isolated
+the virus that caused it, and then developed an antibody that
+effectively destroyed the virus--in the laboratory. But when they had
+tried to apply the antibody in the afflicted patients, the response had
+been totally unexpected. They had stopped the march of death among those
+they had inoculated, and had produced instead a condition that the
+people seemed to dread far more than death.
+
+"Let's face it," Dal said, "we bungled it somehow. We should have had
+help here right from the start. I don't know where we went wrong, but
+we've done something."
+
+"Well, it wasn't your fault," Jack said gloomily. "If we had the right
+diagnosis, this wouldn't have happened. And I _still_ can't see the
+diagnosis. All I've been able to come up with is a nice mess."
+
+"We're missing something, that's all," Dal said. "The information is all
+here. We just aren't reading it right, somehow. Somewhere in here is a
+key to the whole thing, and we just can't see it."
+
+They went back to the data again, going through it step by step. This
+was Jack Alvarez's specialty--the technique of diagnosis, the ability to
+take all the available information about a race and about its illness
+and piece it together into a pattern that made sense. Dal could see that
+Jack was now bitterly angry with himself, yet at every turn he seemed to
+strike another obstacle--some fact that didn't jibe, a missing fragment
+here, a wrong answer there. With Dal and Tiger helping he started back
+over the sequence of events, trying to make sense out of them, and came
+up squarely against a blank wall.
+
+The things they had done should have worked; instead, they had failed. A
+specific antibody used against a specific virus should have destroyed
+the virus or slowed its progress, and there seemed to be no rational
+explanation for the dreadful response of the uninfected ones who had
+been inoculated for protection.
+
+And as the doctors sifted through the data, the Bruckian they had
+brought up from the enclosure sat staring off into space, making small
+noises with his mouth and moving his arms aimlessly. After a while they
+led him back to a bunk, gave him a medicine for sleep and left him
+snoring gently. Another hour passed as they pored over their notes, with
+Tiger stopping from time to time to mop perspiration from his forehead.
+All three were aware of the moving clock hands, marking off the minutes
+that the force screen could hold out.
+
+And then Dal Timgar was digging into the pile of papers, searching
+frantically for something he could not find. "That first report we got,"
+he said hoarsely. "There was something in the very first information we
+ever saw on this planet...."
+
+"You mean the Confederation's data? It's in the radio log." Tiger pulled
+open the thick log book. "But what...."
+
+"It's there, plain as day, I'm sure of it," Dal said. He read through
+the report swiftly, until he came to the last paragraph--a two-line
+description of the largest creatures the original Exploration Ship had
+found on the planet, described by them as totally unintelligent and only
+observed on a few occasions in the course of the exploration. Dal read
+it, and his hands were trembling as he handed the report to Jack. "I
+knew the answer was there!" he said. "Take a look at that again and
+think about it for a minute."
+
+Jack read it through. "I don't see what you mean," he said.
+
+"I mean that I think we've made a horrible mistake," Dal said, "and I
+think I see now what it was. We've had this whole thing exactly 100 per
+cent backward from the start, and that explains everything that's
+happened here!"
+
+Tiger peered over Jack's shoulder at the report. "Backward?"
+
+"As backward as we could get it," Dal said. "We've assumed all along
+that these flesh-and-blood creatures down there were the ones that were
+calling us for help because of a virus plague that was attacking and
+killing them. All right, look at it the other way. Just suppose that the
+intelligent creature that called us for help was the _virus_, and that
+those flesh-and-blood creatures down there with the blank, stupid faces
+are the _real_ plague we ought to have been fighting all along!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 11
+
+DAL BREAKS A PROMISE
+
+
+For a moment the others just stared at their Garvian crewmate. Then Jack
+Alvarez snorted. "You'd better go back and get some rest," he said.
+"This has been a tougher grind than I thought. You're beginning to show
+the strain."
+
+"No, I mean it," Dal said earnestly. "I think that is exactly what's
+been happening."
+
+Tiger looked at him with concern. "Dal, this is no time for double talk
+and nonsense."
+
+"It's not nonsense," Dal said. "It's the answer, if you'll only stop and
+think."
+
+"An intelligent _virus_?" Jack said. "Who ever heard of such a thing?
+There's never been a life-form like that reported since the beginning of
+the galactic exploration."
+
+"But that doesn't mean there couldn't be one," Dal said. "And how would
+an exploratory crew ever identify it, if it existed? How would they ever
+even suspect it? They'd miss it completely--unless it happened to get
+into trouble itself and try to call for help!" Dal jumped up in
+excitement.
+
+"Look, I've seen a dozen articles showing how such a thing was
+theoretically possible ... a virus life-form with billions of
+submicroscopic parts acting together to form an intelligent colony. The
+only thing a virus-creature would need that other intelligent creatures
+don't need would be some kind of a host, some sort of animal body to
+live in so that it could use its intelligence."
+
+"It's impossible," Jack said scornfully. "Why don't you give it up and
+get some rest? Here we sit with our feet in the fire, and all you can do
+is dream up foolishness like this."
+
+"I'm not so sure it's foolishness," Tiger Martin said slowly. "Jack,
+maybe he's got something. A couple of things would fit that don't make
+sense at all."
+
+"All sorts of things would fit," Dal said. "The viruses we know have to
+have a host--some other life-form to live in. Usually they are
+parasites, damaging or destroying their hosts and giving nothing in
+return, but some set up real partnership housekeeping with their hosts
+so that both are better off."
+
+"You mean a symbiotic relationship," Jack said.
+
+"Of course," Dal said. "Now suppose these virus-creatures were
+intelligent, and came from some other place looking for a new host they
+could live with. They wouldn't look for an intelligent creature, they
+would look for some _unintelligent_ creature with a good strong body
+that would be capable of doing all sorts of things if it only had an
+intelligence to guide it. Suppose these virus-creatures found a
+simple-minded, unintelligent race on this planet and tried to set up a
+symbiotic relationship with it. The virus-creatures would need a host to
+provide a home and a food supply. Maybe they in turn could supply the
+intelligence to raise the host to a civilized level of life and
+performance. Wouldn't that be a fair basis for a sound partnership?"
+
+Jack scratched his head doubtfully. "And you're saying that these
+virus-creatures came here after the exploratory ship had come and gone?"
+
+"They must have! Maybe they only came a few years ago, maybe only months
+ago. But when they tried to invade the unintelligent creatures the
+exploratory ship found here, they discovered that the new host's body
+couldn't tolerate them. His body reacted as if they were parasitic
+invaders, and built up antibodies against them. And those body defenses
+were more than the virus could cope with."
+
+Dal pointed to the piles of notes on the desk. "Don't you see how it
+adds up? Right from the beginning we've been assuming that these
+monkey-like creatures here on this planet were the dominant, intelligent
+life-forms. Anatomically they were ordinary cellular creatures like you
+and me, and when we examined them we expected to find the same sort of
+biochemical reactions we'd find with any such creatures. And all our
+results came out wrong, because we were dealing with a combination of
+two creatures--the host and a virus. Maybe the creatures on 31 Brucker
+VII were naturally blank-faced idiots before the virus came, or maybe
+the virus was forced to damage some vital part just in order to fight
+back--but it was the _virus_ that was being killed by its own host, not
+the other way around."
+
+Jack studied the idea, no longer scornful. "So you think the
+virus-creatures called for help, hoping we could find some way to free
+them from the hosts that were killing them. And when Fuzzy developed a
+powerful antibody against them, and we started using the stuff--" Jack
+broke off, shaking his head in horror. "Dal, if you're right, we were
+literally _slaughtering our own patients_ when we gave those injections
+down there!"
+
+"Exactly," Dal said. "Is it any wonder they're so scared of us now? It
+must have looked like a deliberate attempt to wipe them out, and now
+they're afraid that we'll go get help and _really_ move in against
+them."
+
+Tiger nodded. "Which was precisely what we were planning, if you stop to
+think about it. Maybe that was why they were so reluctant to tell us
+anything about themselves. Maybe they've already been mistaken for
+parasitic invaders before, wherever in the universe they came from."
+
+"But if this is true, then we're really in a jam," Jack said. "What can
+we possibly do for them? We can't even repair the damage that we've
+already done. What sort of treatment can we use?"
+
+Dal shook his head. "I don't know the answer to that one, but I do know
+we've got to find out if we're right. An intelligent virus-creature has
+as much right to life as any other intelligent life-form. If we've
+guessed right, then there's a lot that our intelligent friends down
+there haven't told us. Maybe there'll be some clue there. We've just got
+to face them with it, and see what they say."
+
+Jack looked at the viewscreen, at the angry mob milling around on the
+ground, held back from the ship by the energy screen. "You mean just go
+out there and say, 'Look fellows, it was all a mistake, we didn't really
+mean to do it?'" He shook his head. "Maybe you want to tell them. Not
+me!"
+
+"Dal's right, though," Tiger said. "We've got to contact them somehow.
+They aren't even responding to radio communication, and they've
+scrambled our outside radio and fouled our drive mechanism somehow.
+We've got to settle this while we still have an energy screen."
+
+There was a long silence as the three doctors looked at each other. Then
+Dal stood up and walked over to the swinging platform. He lifted Fuzzy
+down onto his shoulder. "It'll be all right," he said to Jack and
+Tiger. "I'll go out."
+
+"They'll tear you to ribbons!" Tiger protested.
+
+Dal shook his head. "I don't think so," he said quietly. "I don't think
+they'll touch me. They'll greet me with open arms when I go down there,
+and they'll be eager to talk to me."
+
+"Are you crazy?" Jack cried, leaping to his feet. "We can't let you go
+out there."
+
+"Don't worry," Dal said. "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'll be able to
+handle the situation, believe me."
+
+He hesitated a moment, and gave Fuzzy a last nervous pat, settling him
+more firmly on his shoulder. Then he started down the corridor for the
+entrance lock.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He had promised himself long before ... many years before ... that he
+would never do what he planned to do now, but now he knew that there was
+no alternative. The only other choice was to wait helplessly until the
+power failed and the protective screen vanished and the creatures on the
+ground outside tore the ship to pieces.
+
+As he stood in the airlock waiting for the pressure to shift to outside
+normal, he lifted Fuzzy down into the crook of his arm and rubbed the
+little creature between the shoe-button eyes. "You've got to back me up
+now," he whispered softly. "It's been a long time, I know that, but I
+need help now. It's going to be up to you."
+
+Dal knew the subtle strength of his people's peculiar talent. From the
+moment he had stepped down to the ground the second time with Tiger and
+Jack, even with Fuzzy waiting back on the ship, he had felt the powerful
+wave of horror and fear and anger rising up from the Bruckians, and he
+had glimpsed the awful idiot vacancy of the minds of the creatures in
+the enclosure, in whom the intelligent virus was already dead. This had
+required no effort; it just came naturally into his mind, and he had
+known instantly that something terrible had gone wrong.
+
+In the years on Hospital Earth, he had carefully forced himself never to
+think in terms of his special talent. He had diligently screened off the
+impressions and emotions that struck at him constantly from his
+classmates and from others that he came in contact with. Above all, he
+had fought down the temptation to turn his power the other way, to use
+it to his own advantage.
+
+But now, as the lock opened and he started down the ladder, he closed
+his mind to everything else. Hugging Fuzzy close to his side, he turned
+his mind into a single tight channel. He drove the thought out at the
+Bruckians with all the power he could muster: _I come in peace. I mean
+you no harm. I have good news, joyful news. You must be happy to see me,
+eager to welcome me...._
+
+He could feel the wave of anger and fear strike him like a physical blow
+as soon as he appeared in the entrance lock. The cries rose up in a
+wave, and the crowd surged in toward the ship. With the energy field
+released, there was nothing to stop them; they were tripping over each
+other to reach the bottom of the ladder first, shouting threats and
+waving angry fists, reaching up to grab at Dal's ankles as he came
+down....
+
+And then as if by magic the cries died in the throats of the ones
+closest to the ladder. The angry fists unclenched, and extended into
+outstretched hands to help him down to the ground. As though an
+ever-widening wave was spreading out around him, the aura of peace and
+good will struck the people in the crowd. And as it spread, the anger
+faded from the faces; the hard lines gave way to puzzled frowns, then to
+smiles. Dal channeled his thoughts more rigidly, and watched the effect
+spread out from him like ripples in a pond, as anger and suspicion and
+fear melted away to be replaced by confidence and trust.
+
+Dal had seen it occur a thousand times before. He could remember his
+trips on Garvian trading ships with his father, when the traders with
+their fuzzy pink friends on their shoulders faced cold, hostile,
+suspicious buyers. It had seemed almost miraculous the way the
+suspicions melted away and the hostile faces became friendly as the
+buyers' minds became receptive to bargaining and trading. He had even
+seen it happen on the _Teegar_ with Tiger and Jack, and it was no
+coincidence that throughout the galaxy the Garvians--always accompanied
+by their fuzzy friends--had assumed the position of power and wealth and
+leadership that they had.
+
+And now once again the pattern was being repeated. The Bruckians who
+surrounded Dal were smiling and talking eagerly; they made no move to
+touch him or harm him.
+
+The spokesman they had talked to before was there at his elbow, and Dal
+heard himself saying, "We have found the answer to your problem. We know
+now the true nature of your race, and the nature of your intelligence.
+You were afraid that we would find out, but your fears were groundless.
+We will not turn our knowledge against you. We only want to help you."
+
+An expression almost like despair had crossed the spokesman's face as
+Dal spoke. Now he said, "It would be good--if we could believe you. But
+how can we? We have been driven for so long and come so far, and now you
+would seek to wipe us out as parasites and disease-carriers."
+
+Dal saw the Bruckian creature's eyes upon him, saw the frail body
+tremble and the lips move, but he knew now that the intelligence that
+formed the words and the thoughts behind them, the intelligence that
+made the lips speak the words, was the intelligence of a creature far
+different from the one he was looking at--a creature formed of billions
+of submicroscopic units, imbedded in every one of the Bruckian's body
+cells, trapped there now and helpless against the antibody reaction that
+sought to destroy them. This was the intelligence that had called for
+help in its desperate plight, but had not quite dared to trust its
+rescuers with the whole truth.
+
+But was this strange virus-creature good or evil, hostile or friendly?
+Dal's hand lay on Fuzzy's tiny body, but he felt no quiver, no vibration
+of fear. He looked across the face of the crowd, trying with all his
+strength to open his mind to the feelings and emotions of these people.
+Often enough, with Fuzzy nearby, he had felt the harsh impact of
+hostile, cruel, brutal minds, even when the owners of those minds had
+tried to conceal their feelings behind smiles and pleasant words. But
+here there was no sign of the sickening feeling that kind of mind
+produced, no hint of hostility or evil.
+
+He shook his head. "Why should we want to destroy you?" he said. "You
+are good, and peaceful. We know that; why should we harm you? All you
+want is a place to live, and a host to join with you in a mutually
+valuable partnership. But you did not tell us everything you could about
+yourselves, and as a result we have destroyed some of you in our clumsy
+attempts to learn your true nature."
+
+They talked then, and bit by bit the story came out. The life-form was
+indeed a virus, unimaginably ancient, and intelligent throughout
+millions of years of its history. Driven by over-population, a pure
+culture of the virus-creatures had long ago departed from their original
+native hosts, and traveled like encapsulated spores across space from a
+distant galaxy. The trip had been long and exhausting; the
+virus-creatures had retained only the minimum strength necessary to
+establish themselves in a new host, some unintelligent creature living
+on an uninhabited planet, a creature that could benefit by the great
+intelligence of the virus-creatures, and provide food and shelter for
+both. Finally, after thousands of years of searching, they had found
+this planet with its dull-minded, fruit-gathering inhabitants. These
+creatures had seemed perfect as hosts, and the virus-creatures had
+thought their long search for a perfect partner was finally at an end.
+
+It was not until they had expended the last dregs of their energy in
+anchoring themselves into the cells and tissues of their new hosts that
+they discovered to their horror that the host-creatures could not
+tolerate them. Unlike their original hosts, the bodies of these
+creatures began developing deadly antibodies that attacked the virus
+invaders. In their desperate attempts to hold on and fight back, the
+virus-creatures had destroyed vital centers in the new hosts, and one by
+one they had begun to die. There was not enough energy left for the
+virus-creatures to detach themselves and move on; without some way to
+stem the onslaught of the antibodies, they were doomed to total
+destruction.
+
+"We were afraid to tell you doctors the truth," the spokesman said. "As
+we wandered and searched we discovered that creatures like ourselves
+were extreme rarities in the universe, that most creatures similar to us
+were mindless, unintelligent parasites that struck down their hosts and
+destroyed them. Wherever we went, life-forms of your kind regarded us as
+disease-bearers, and their doctors taught them ways to destroy us. We
+had hoped that from you we might find a way to save ourselves--then you
+unleashed on us the one weapon we could not fight."
+
+"But not maliciously," Dal said. "Only because we did not understand.
+And now that we do, there may be a way to help. A difficult way, but at
+least a way. The antibodies themselves can be neutralized, but it may
+take our biochemists and virologists and all their equipment months or
+even years to develop and synthesize the proper antidote."
+
+The spokesman looked at Dal, and turned away with a hopeless gesture.
+"Then it is too late, after all," he said. "We are dying too fast. Even
+those of us who have not been affected so far are beginning to feel the
+early symptoms of the antibody attack." He smiled sadly and reached out
+to stroke the small pink creature on Dal's arm. "Your people too have a
+partner, I see. We envy you."
+
+Dal felt a movement on his arm and looked down at Fuzzy. He had always
+taken his little friend for granted, but now he thought of the feeling
+of emptiness and loss that had come across him when Fuzzy had been
+almost killed. He had often wondered just what Fuzzy might be like if
+his almost-fluid, infinitely adaptable physical body had only been
+endowed with intelligence. He had wondered what kind of a creature Fuzzy
+might be if he were able to use his remarkable structure with the
+guidance of an intelligent mind behind it....
+
+He felt another movement on his arm, and his eyes widened as he stared
+down at his little friend.
+
+A moment before, there had been a single three-inch pink creature on his
+elbow. But now there were two, each just one-half the size of the
+original. As Dal watched, one of the two drew away from the other,
+creeping in to snuggle closer to Dal's side, and a pair of shoe-button
+eyes appeared and blinked up at him trustingly. But the other creature
+was moving down his arm, straining out toward the Bruckian spokesman....
+
+Dal realized instantly what was happening. He started to draw back, but
+something stopped him. Deep in his mind he could sense a gentle voice
+reassuring him, saying, _It's all right, there is nothing to fear, no
+harm will come to me. These creatures need help, and this is the way to
+help them._
+
+He saw the Bruckian reach out a trembling hand. The tiny pink creature
+that had separated from Fuzzy seemed almost to leap across to the
+outstretched hand. And then the spokesman held him close, and the new
+Fuzzy shivered happily.
+
+The virus-creatures had found a host. Here was the ideal kind of body
+for their intelligence to work with and mold, a host where
+antibody-formation could be perfectly controlled. Dal knew now that the
+problem had almost been solved once before, when the virus-creature had
+reached Fuzzy on the ship; if they had only waited a little longer they
+would have seen Fuzzy recover from his illness a different creature
+entirely than before.
+
+Already the new creature was dividing again, with half going on to the
+next of the Bruckians. To a submicroscopic virus, the body of the host
+would not have to be large; soon there would be a sufficient number of
+hosts to serve the virus-creatures' needs forever. As he started back up
+the ladder to the ship, Dal knew that the problem on 31 Brucker VII had
+found a happy and permanent solution.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Back in the control room Dal related what had happened from beginning to
+end. There was only one detail that he concealed. He could not bring
+himself to tell Tiger and Jack of the true nature of his relationship
+with Fuzzy, of the odd power over the emotions of others that Fuzzy's
+presence gave him. He could tell by their faces that they realized that
+he was leaving something out; they had watched him go down to face a
+blood-thirsty mob, and had seen that mob become docile as lambs as
+though by magic. Clearly they could not understand what had happened,
+yet they did not ask him.
+
+"So it was Fuzzy's idea to volunteer as a new host for the creatures,"
+Jack said.
+
+Dal nodded. "I knew that he could reproduce, of course," he said. "Every
+Garvian has a Fuzzy, and whenever a new Garvian is born, the father's
+Fuzzy always splits so that half can join the new-born child. It's like
+the division of a cell; within hours the Fuzzy that stayed down there
+will have divided to provide enough protoplasm for every one of the
+surviving intelligent Bruckians."
+
+"And your diagnosis was the right one," Jack said.
+
+"We'll see," Dal said. "Tomorrow we'll know better."
+
+But clearly the problem had been solved. The next day there was an
+excited conference between the spokesman and the doctors on the
+_Lancet_. The Bruckians had elected to maintain the same host body as
+before. They had gotten used to it; with the small pink creatures
+serving as a shelter to protect them against the deadly antibodies, they
+could live in peace and security. But they were eager, before the
+_Lancet_ disembarked, to sign a full medical service contract with the
+doctors from Hospital Earth. A contract was signed, subject only to
+final acceptance and ratification by the Hospital Earth officials.
+
+Now that their radio was free again, the three doctors jubilantly
+prepared a full account of the problem of 31 Brucker and its solution,
+and dispatched the news of the new contract to the first relay station
+on its way back to Hospital Earth. Then, weary to the point of collapse,
+they retired for the first good sleep in days, eagerly awaiting an
+official response from Hospital Earth on the completed case and the
+contract.
+
+"It ought to wipe out any black mark Dr. Tanner has against any of us,"
+Jack said happily. "And especially in Dal's case." He grinned at the Red
+Doctor. "This one has been yours, all the way. You pulled it out of the
+fire after I flubbed it completely, and you're going to get the credit,
+if I have anything to say about it."
+
+"We should all get credit," Dal said. "A new contract isn't signed every
+day of the year. But the way we all fumbled our way into it, Hospital
+Earth shouldn't pay much attention to it anyway."
+
+But Dal knew that he was only throwing up his habitual shield to guard
+against disappointment. Traditionally, a new contract meant a Star
+rating for each of the crew that brought it in. All through medical
+school Dal had read the reports of other patrol ships that had secured
+new contracts with uncontacted planets, and he had seen the fanfare and
+honor that were heaped on the doctors from those ships. And for the
+first time since he had entered medical school years before, Dal now
+allowed himself to hope that his goal was in sight.
+
+He wanted to be a Star Surgeon more than anything else. It was the one
+thing that he had wanted and worked for since the cruel days when the
+plague had swept his homeland, destroying his mother and leaving his
+father an ailing cripple. And since his assignment aboard the _Lancet_,
+one thought had filled his mind: to turn in the scarlet collar and cuff
+in return for the cape and silver star of the full-fledged physician in
+the Red Service of Surgery.
+
+Always before there had been the half-conscious dread that something
+would happen, that in the end, after all the work, the silver star would
+still remain just out of reach, that somehow he would never quite get
+it.
+
+But now there could be no question. Even Black Doctor Tanner could not
+deny a new contract. The crew of the _Lancet_ would be called back to
+Hospital Earth for a full report on the newly contacted race, and their
+days as probationary doctors in the General Practice patrol would be
+over.
+
+After they had slept themselves out, the doctors prepared the ship for
+launching, and made their farewells to the Bruckian spokesman.
+
+"When the contract is ratified," Jack said, "a survey ship will come
+here. They will have all of the information that we have gathered, and
+they will spend many months gathering more. Tell them everything they
+want to know. Don't conceal anything, because once they have completed
+their survey, any General Practice Patrol ship in the galaxy will be
+able to answer a call for help and have the information they need to
+serve you."
+
+They delayed launching hour by hour waiting for a response from Hospital
+Earth, but the radio was silent. They thought of a dozen reasons why the
+message might have been delayed, but the radio silence continued.
+Finally they strapped down and lifted the ship from the planet, still
+waiting for a response.
+
+When it finally came, there was no message of congratulations, nor even
+any acknowledgment of the new contract. Instead, there was only a terse
+message:
+
+      PROCEED TO REFERENCE POINT 43621 SECTION XIX AND STAND BY
+      FOR INSPECTION PARTY
+
+Tiger took the message and read it in silence, then handed it to Dal.
+
+"What do they say?" Jack said.
+
+"Read it," Dal said. "They don't mention the contract, just an
+inspection party."
+
+"Inspection party! Is that the best they can do for us?"
+
+"They don't sound too enthusiastic," Tiger said. "At least you'd think
+they could acknowledge receipt of our report."
+
+"It's probably just part of the routine," Dal said. "Maybe they want to
+confirm our reports from our own records before they commit themselves."
+
+But he knew that he was only whistling in the dark. The moment he saw
+the terse message, he knew something had gone wrong with the contract.
+There would be no notes of congratulation, no returning in triumph and
+honor to Hospital Earth.
+
+Whatever the reason for the inspection party, Dal felt certain who the
+inspector was going to be.
+
+It had been exciting to dream, but the scarlet cape and the silver star
+were still a long way out of reach.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 12
+
+THE SHOWDOWN
+
+
+It was hours later when their ship reached the contact point
+co-ordinates. There had been little talk during the transit; each of
+them knew already what the other was thinking, and there wasn't much to
+be said. The message had said it for them.
+
+Dal's worst fears were realized when the inspection ship appeared,
+converting from Koenig drive within a few miles of the _Lancet_. He had
+seen the ship before--a sleek, handsomely outfitted patrol class ship
+with the insignia of the Black Service of Pathology emblazoned on its
+hull, the private ship of a Four-star Black Doctor.
+
+But none of them anticipated the action taken by the inspection ship as
+it drew within lifeboat range of the _Lancet_.
+
+A scooter shot away from its storage rack on the black ship, and a crew
+of black-garbed technicians piled into the _Lancet_'s entrance lock,
+dressed in the special decontamination suits worn when a ship was
+returning from a plague spot into uninfected territory.
+
+"What is this?" Tiger demanded as the technicians started unloading
+decontamination gear into the lock. "What are you doing with that
+stuff?"
+
+The squad leader looked at him sourly. "You're in quarantine, Doc," he
+said. "Class I, all precautions, contact with unidentified pestilence.
+If you don't like it, argue with the Black Doctor, I've just got a job
+to do."
+
+He started shouting orders to his men, and they scattered throughout the
+ship, with blowers and disinfectants, driving antiseptic sprays into
+every crack and cranny of the ship's interior, scouring the hull outside
+in the rigid pattern prescribed for plague ships. They herded the
+doctors into the decontamination lock, stripped them of their clothes,
+scrubbed them down and tossed them special sterilized fatigues to wear
+with masks and gloves.
+
+"This is idiotic," Jack protested. "We aren't carrying any dangerous
+organisms!"
+
+The squad leader shrugged indifferently. "Tell it to the Black Doctor,
+not me. All I know is that this ship is under quarantine until it's
+officially released, and from what I hear, it's not going to be released
+for quite some time."
+
+At last the job was done, and the scooter departed back to the
+inspection ship. A few moments later they saw it returning, this time
+carrying just three men. In addition to the pilot and one technician,
+there was a single passenger: a portly figure dressed in a black robe,
+horn-rimmed glasses and cowl.
+
+The scooter grappled the _Lancet_'s side, and Black Doctor Hugo Tanner
+climbed wheezing into the entrance lock, followed by the technician. He
+stopped halfway into the lock to get his breath, and paused again as the
+lock swung closed behind him. Dal was shocked at the physical change in
+the man in the few short weeks since he had seen him last. The Black
+Doctor's face was gray; every effort of movement brought on paroxysms of
+coughing. He looked sick, and he looked tired, yet his jaw was still set
+in angry determination.
+
+The doctors stood at attention as he stepped into the control room,
+hardly able to conceal their surprise at seeing him. "Well?" the Black
+Doctor snapped at them. "What's the trouble with you? You act like
+you've seen a ghost or something."
+
+"We--we'd heard that you were in the hospital, sir."
+
+"Did you, now!" the Black Doctor snorted. "Hospital! Bah! I had to tell
+the press something to get the hounds off me for a while. These young
+puppies seem to think that a Black Doctor can just walk away from his
+duties any time he chooses to undergo their fancy surgical procedures.
+And you know who's been screaming the loudest to get their hands on me.
+The Red Service of Surgery, that's who!"
+
+The Black Doctor glared at Dal Timgar. "Well, I dare say the Red Doctors
+will have their chance at me, all in good time. But first there are
+certain things which must be taken care of." He looked up at the
+attendant. "You're quite certain that the ship has been decontaminated?"
+
+The attendant nodded. "Yes, sir."
+
+"And the crewmen?"
+
+"It's safe to talk to them, sir, as long as you avoid physical contact."
+
+The Black Doctor grunted and wheezed and settled himself down in a seat.
+"All right now, gentlemen," he said to the three, "let's have your story
+of this affair in the Brucker system, right from the start."
+
+"But we sent in a full report," Tiger said.
+
+"I'm aware of that, you idiot. I have waded through your report, all
+thirty-five pages of it, and I only wish you hadn't been so
+long-winded. Now I want to hear what happened directly from you. Well?"
+
+The three doctors looked at each other. Then Jack began the story,
+starting with the first hesitant "greeting" that had come through to
+them. He told everything that had happened without embellishments: their
+first analysis of the nature of the problem, the biochemical and medical
+survey that they ran on the afflicted people, his own failure to make
+the diagnosis, the incident of Fuzzy's sudden affliction, and the
+strange solution that had finally come from it. As he talked the Black
+Doctor sat back with his eyes half closed, his face blank, listening and
+nodding from time to time as the story proceeded.
+
+And Jack was carefully honest and fair in his account. "We were all of
+us lost, until Dal Timgar saw the significance of what had happened to
+Fuzzy," he said. "His idea of putting the creature through the filter
+gave us our first specimen of the isolated virus, and showed us how to
+obtain the antibody. Then after we saw what happened with our initial
+series of injections, we were really at sea, and by then we couldn't
+reach a hospital ship for help of any kind." He went on to relate Dal's
+idea that the virus itself might be the intelligent creature, and
+recounted the things that happened after Dal went down to talk to the
+spokesman again with Fuzzy on his shoulder.
+
+Through it all the Black Doctor listened sourly, glancing occasionally
+at Dal and saying nothing. "So is that all?" he said when Jack had
+finished.
+
+"Not quite," Jack said. "I want it to be on the record that it was my
+failure in diagnosis that got us into trouble. I don't want any
+misunderstanding about that. If I'd had the wit to think beyond the end
+of my nose, there wouldn't have been any problem."
+
+"I see," the Black Doctor said. He pointed to Dal. "So it was this one
+who really came up with the answers and directed the whole program on
+this problem, is that right?"
+
+"That's right," Jack said firmly. "He should get all the credit."
+
+Something stirred in Dal's mind and he felt Fuzzy snuggling in tightly
+to his side. He could feel the cold hostility in the Black Doctor's
+mind, and he started to say something, but the Black Doctor cut him off.
+"Do you agree to that also, Dr. Martin?" he asked Tiger.
+
+"I certainly do," Tiger said. "I'll back up the Blue Doctor right down
+the line."
+
+The Black Doctor smiled unpleasantly and nodded. "Well, I'm certainly
+happy to hear you say that, gentlemen. I might say that it is a very
+great relief to me to hear it from your own testimony. Because this time
+there shouldn't be any argument from either of you as to just where the
+responsibility lies, and I'm relieved to know that I can completely
+exonerate you two, at any rate."
+
+Jack Alvarez's jaw went slack and he stared at the Black Doctor as
+though he hadn't heard him properly. "Exonerate us?" he said. "Exonerate
+us from what?"
+
+"From the charges of incompetence, malpractice and conduct unbecoming to
+a physician which I am lodging against your colleague in the Red Service
+here," the Black Doctor said angrily. "Of course, I was confident that
+neither of you two could have contributed very much to this bungling
+mess, but it is reassuring to have your own statements of that fact on
+the record. They should carry more weight in a Council hearing than any
+plea I might make in your behalf."
+
+"But--but what do you mean by a Council hearing?" Tiger stammered. "I
+don't understand you! This--this problem is _solved_. We solved it as a
+patrol team, all of us. We sent in a brand new medical service contract
+from those people...."
+
+"Oh, yes. _That!_" The Black Doctor drew a long pink dispatch sheet from
+an inner pocket and opened it out. The doctors could see the photo
+reproductions of their signatures at the bottom. "Fortunately--for you
+two--this bit of nonsense was brought to my attention at the first relay
+station that received it. I personally accepted it and withdrew it from
+the circuit before it could reach Hospital Earth for filing."
+
+Slowly, as they watched him, he ripped the pink dispatch sheet into a
+dozen pieces and tossed it into the disposal vent. "So much for that,"
+he said slowly. "I can choose to overlook your foolishness in trying to
+cloud the important issues with a so-called 'contract' to divert
+attention, but I'm afraid I can't pay much attention to it, nor allow it
+to appear in the general report. And of course I am forced to classify
+the _Lancet_ as a plague ship until a bacteriological and virological
+examination has been completed on both ship and crew. The planet itself
+will be considered a galactic plague spot until proper measures have
+been taken to insure its decontamination."
+
+The Black Doctor drew some papers from another pocket and turned to Dal
+Timgar. "As for you, the charges are clear enough. You have broken the
+most fundamental rules of good judgment and good medicine in handling
+the 31 Brucker affair. You have permitted a General Practice Patrol ship
+to approach a potentially dangerous plague spot without any notification
+of higher authorities. You have undertaken a biochemical and medical
+survey for which you had neither the proper equipment nor the training
+qualifications, and you exposed your ship and your crewmates to an
+incredible risk in landing on such a planet. You are responsible for
+untold--possibly fatal--damage to over two hundred individuals of the
+race that called on you for help. You have even subjected the creature
+that depends upon your own race for its life and support to virtual
+slavery and possible destruction; and finally, you had the audacity to
+try to cover up your bungling with claims of arranging a medical service
+contract with an uninvestigated race."
+
+The Black Doctor broke off as an attendant came in the door and
+whispered something in his ear. Doctor Tanner shook his head angrily, "I
+can't be bothered now!"
+
+"They say it's urgent, sir."
+
+"Yes, it's always urgent." The Black Doctor heaved to his feet. "If it
+weren't for this miserable incompetent here, I wouldn't have to be
+taking precious time away from my more important duties." He scowled at
+the _Lancet_ crewmen. "You will excuse me for a moment," he said, and
+disappeared into the communications room.
+
+The moment he was gone from the room, Jack and Tiger were talking at
+once. "He couldn't really be serious," Tiger said. "It's impossible! Not
+one of those charges would hold up under investigation."
+
+"Well, I think it's a frame-up," Jack said, his voice tight with anger.
+"I knew that some people on Hospital Earth were out to get you, but I
+don't see how a Four-star Black Doctor could be a party to such a thing.
+Either someone has been misinforming him, or he just doesn't understand
+what happened."
+
+Dal shook his head. "He understands, all right, and he's the one who's
+determined to get me out of medicine. This is a flimsy excuse, but he
+has to use it, because it's now or never. He knows that if we bring in a
+contract with a new planet, and it's formally ratified, we'll all get
+our Stars and he'd never be able to block me again. And Black Doctor
+Tanner is going to be certain that I don't get that Star, or die
+trying."
+
+"But this is completely unfair," Jack protested. "He's turning our own
+words against you! You can bet that he'll have a survey crew down on
+that planet in no time, bringing home a contract just the same as the
+one we wrote, and there won't be any questions asked about it."
+
+"Except that I'll be out of the service," Dal said. "Don't worry. You'll
+get the credit in the long run. When all the dust settles, he'll be sure
+that you two are named as agents for the contract. He doesn't want to
+hurt you, it's me that he's out to get."
+
+"Well, he won't get away with it," Tiger said. "We can see to that. It's
+not too late to retract our stories. If he thinks he can get rid of you
+with something that wasn't your fault, he's going to find out that he
+has to get rid of a lot more than just you."
+
+But Dal was shaking his head. "Not this time, Tiger. This time you keep
+out of it."
+
+"What do you mean, keep out of it?" Tiger cried. "Do you think I'm going
+to stand by quietly and watch him cut you down?"
+
+"That's exactly what you're going to do," Dal said sharply. "I meant
+what I said. I want you to keep your mouth shut. Don't say anything more
+at all, just let it be."
+
+"But I can't stand by and do nothing! When a friend of mine needs
+help--"
+
+"Can't you get it through your thick skull that this time I don't want
+your help?" Dal said. "Do me a favor this time. _Leave me alone._ Don't
+stick your thumb in the pie."
+
+Tiger just stared at the little Garvian. "Look, Dal, all I'm trying to
+do--"
+
+"I know what you're trying to do," Dal snapped, "and I don't want any
+part of it. I don't need your help, I don't _want_ it. Why do you have
+to force it down my throat?"
+
+There was a long silence. Then Tiger spread his hands helplessly.
+"Okay," he said, "if that's the way you want it." He turned away from
+Dal, his big shoulders slumping. "I've only been trying to make up for
+some of the dirty breaks you've been handed since you came to Hospital
+Earth."
+
+"I know that," Dal said, "and I've appreciated it. Sometimes it's been
+the only thing that's kept me going. But that doesn't mean that you own
+me. Friendship is one thing; proprietorship is something else. I'm not
+your private property."
+
+He saw the look on Tiger's face, as though he had suddenly turned and
+slapped him viciously across the face. "Look, I know it sounds awful,
+but I can't help it. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want to
+change things with us, but _I'm a person just like you are_. I can't go
+on leaning on you any longer. Everybody has to stand on his own
+somewhere along the line. You do, and I do, too. And that goes for Jack,
+too."
+
+They heard the door to the communications shack open, and the Black
+Doctor was back in the room. "Well?" he said. "Am I interrupting
+something?" He glanced sharply at the tight-lipped doctors. "The call
+was from the survey section," he went on blandly. "A survey crew is on
+its way to 31 Brucker to start gathering some useful information on the
+situation. But that is neither here nor there. You have heard the
+charges against the Red Doctor here. Is there anything any of you want
+to say?"
+
+Tiger and Jack looked at each other. The silence in the room was
+profound.
+
+The Black Doctor turned to Dal. "And what about you?"
+
+"I have something to say, but I'd like to talk to you alone."
+
+"As you wish. You two will return to your quarters and stay there."
+
+"The attendant, too," Dal said.
+
+The Black Doctor's eyes glinted and met Dal's for a moment. Then he
+shrugged and nodded to his attendant. "Step outside, please. We have a
+private matter to discuss."
+
+The Black Doctor turned his attention to the papers on the desk as Dal
+stood before him with Fuzzy sitting in the crook of his arm. From the
+moment that the notice of the inspection ship's approach had come to the
+_Lancet_, Dal had known what was coming. He had been certain what the
+purpose of the detainment was, and who the inspector would be, yet he
+had not really been worried. In the back of his mind, a small,
+comfortable thought had been sustaining him.
+
+It didn't really matter how hostile or angry Black Doctor Tanner might
+be; he knew that in a last-ditch stand there was one way the Black
+Doctor could be handled.
+
+He remembered the dramatic shift from hostility to friendliness among
+the Bruckians when he had come down from the ship with Fuzzy on his
+shoulder. Before then, he had never considered using his curious power
+to protect himself and gain an end; but since then, without even
+consciously bringing it to mind, he had known that the next time would
+be easier. If it ever came to a showdown with Black Doctor Tanner, a
+trap from which he couldn't free himself, there was still this way. _The
+Black Doctor would never know what happened_, he thought. _It would just
+seem to him, suddenly, that he had been looking at things the wrong way.
+No one would ever know._
+
+But he knew, even as the thought came to mind, that this was not so.
+Now, face to face with the showdown, he knew that it was no good. One
+person would know what had happened: himself. On 31 Brucker, he had
+convinced himself that the end justified the means; here it was
+different.
+
+For a moment, as Black Doctor Tanner stared up at him through the
+horn-rimmed glasses, Dal wavered. Why should he hesitate to protect
+himself? he thought angrily. This attack against him was false and
+unfair, trumped up for the sole purpose of destroying his hopes and
+driving him out of the Service. Why shouldn't he grasp at any means,
+fair or unfair, to fight it?
+
+But he could hear the echo of Black Doctor Arnquist's words in his mind:
+_I beg of you not to use it. No matter what happens, don't use it._ Of
+course, Doctor Arnquist would never know, for sure, that he had broken
+faith ... but _he_ would know....
+
+"Well," Black Doctor Tanner was saying, "speak up. I can't waste much
+more time dealing with you. If you have something to say, say it."
+
+Dal sighed. He lifted Fuzzy down and slipped him gently into his jacket
+pocket. "These charges against me are not true," he said.
+
+The Black Doctor shrugged. "Your own crewmates support them with their
+statements."
+
+"That's not the point. They're not true, and you know it as well as I
+do. You've deliberately rigged them up to build a case against me."
+
+The Black Doctor's face turned dark and his hands clenched on the papers
+on the desk. "Are you suggesting that I have nothing better to do than
+to rig false charges against one probationer out of seventy-five
+thousand traveling the galaxy?"
+
+"I'm suggesting that we are alone here," Dal said. "Nobody else is
+listening. Just for once, right now, we can be honest. We both know
+what you're trying to do to me. I'd just like to hear you admit it
+once."
+
+The Black Doctor slammed his fist down on the table. "I don't have to
+listen to insolence like this," he roared.
+
+"Yes, you do," Dal said. "Just this once. Then I'll be through."
+Suddenly Dal's words were tumbling out of control, and his whole body
+was trembling with anger. "You have been determined from the very
+beginning that I should never finish the medical training that I
+started. You've tried to block me time after time, in every way you
+could think of. You've almost succeeded, but never quite made it until
+this time. But now you _have_ to make it. If that contract were to go
+through I'd get my Star, and you'd never again be able to do anything
+about it. So it's now or never if you're going to break me."
+
+"Nonsense!" the Black Doctor stormed. "I wouldn't lower myself to meddle
+with your kind. The charges speak for themselves."
+
+"Not if you look at them carefully. You claim I failed to notify
+Hospital Earth that we had entered a plague area--but our records of our
+contact with the planet prove that we did only what any patrol ship
+would have done when the call came in. We didn't have enough information
+to know that there was a plague there, and when we finally did know the
+truth we could no longer make contact with Hospital Earth. You claim
+that I brought harm to two hundred of the natives there, yet if you
+study our notes and records, you will see that our errors there were
+unavoidable. We couldn't have done anything else under the
+circumstances, and if we hadn't done what we did, we would have been
+ignoring the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment which we've
+been taught. And your charges don't mention that by possibly harming two
+hundred of the Bruckians, we found a way to save two million of them
+from absolute destruction."
+
+The Black Doctor glared at him. "The charges will stand up, I'll see to
+that."
+
+"Oh, I'm sure you will! You can ram them through and make them stick
+before anybody ever has a chance to examine them carefully. You have the
+power to do it. And by the time an impartial judge could review all the
+records, your survey ship will have been there and gathered so much more
+data and muddied up the field so thoroughly that no one will ever be
+certain that the charges aren't true. But you and I know that they
+wouldn't really hold up under inspection. We know that they're false
+right down the line and that you're the one who is responsible for
+them."
+
+The Black Doctor grew darker, and he trembled with rage as he drew
+himself to his feet. Dal could feel his hatred almost like a physical
+blow and his voice was almost a shriek.
+
+"All right," he said, "if you insist, then the charges are lies, made up
+specifically to break you, and I'm going to push them through if I have
+to jeopardize my reputation to do it. You could have bowed out
+gracefully at any time along the way and saved yourself dishonor and
+disgrace, but you wouldn't do it. Now, I'm going to force you to. I've
+worked my lifetime long to build the reputation of Hospital Earth and of
+the Earthmen that go out to all the planets as representatives. I've
+worked to make the Confederation respect Hospital Earth and the Earthmen
+who are her doctors. You don't belong here with us. You forced yourself
+in, you aren't an Earthman and you don't have the means or resources to
+be a doctor from Hospital Earth. If you succeed, a thousand others will
+follow in your footsteps, chipping away at the reputation that we have
+worked to build, and I'm not going to allow one incompetent alien
+bungler pretending to be a surgeon to walk in and destroy the thing I've
+fought to build--"
+
+The Black Doctor's voice had grown shrill, almost out of control. But
+now suddenly he broke off, his mouth still working, and his face went
+deathly white. The finger he was pointing at Dal wavered and fell. He
+clutched at his chest, his breath coming in great gasps and staggered
+back into the chair. "Something's happened," his voice croaked. "I can't
+breathe."
+
+Dal stared at him in horror for a moment, then leaped across the room
+and jammed his thumb against the alarm bell.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 13
+
+THE TRIAL
+
+
+Red Doctor Dal Timgar knew at once that there would be no problem in
+diagnosis here. The Black Doctor slumped back in his seat, gasping for
+air, his face twisted in pain as he labored just to keep on breathing.
+Tiger and Jack burst into the room, and Dal could tell that they knew
+instantly what had happened.
+
+"Coronary," Jack said grimly.
+
+Dal nodded. "The question is, just how bad."
+
+"Get the cardiograph in here. We'll soon see."
+
+But the electrocardiograph was not needed to diagnose the nature of the
+trouble. All three doctors had seen the picture often enough--the
+sudden, massive blockage of circulation to the heart that was so common
+to creatures with central circulatory pumps, the sort of catastrophic
+accident which could cause irreparable crippling or sudden death within
+a matter of minutes.
+
+Tiger injected some medicine to ease the pain, and started oxygen to
+help the labored breathing, but the old man's color did not improve. He
+was too weak to talk; he just lay helplessly gasping for air as they
+lifted him up onto a bed. Then Jack took an electrocardiograph tracing
+and shook his head.
+
+"We'd better get word back to Hospital Earth, and fast," he said
+quietly. "He just waited a little too long for that cardiac transplant,
+that's all. This is a bad one. Tell them we need a surgeon out here just
+as fast as they can move, or the Black Service is going to have a dead
+physician on its hands."
+
+There was a sound across the room, and the Black Doctor motioned feebly
+to Tiger. "The cardiogram," he gasped. "Let me see it."
+
+"There's nothing for you to see," Tiger said. "You mustn't do anything
+to excite yourself."
+
+"Let me see it." Dr. Tanner took the thin strip of paper and ran it
+quickly through his fingers. Then he dropped it on the bed and lay his
+head back hopelessly. "Too late," he said, so softly they could hardly
+hear him. "Too late for help now."
+
+Tiger checked his blood pressure and listened to his heart. "It will
+only take a few hours to get help," he said. "You rest and sleep now.
+There's plenty of time."
+
+He joined Dal and Jack in the corridor. "I'm afraid he's right, this
+time," he said. "The damage is severe, and he hasn't the strength to
+hold out very long. He might last long enough for a surgeon and
+operating team to get here, but I doubt it. We'd better get the word
+off."
+
+A few moments later he put the earphones aside. "It'll take six hours
+for the nearest help to get here," he said. "Maybe five and a half if
+they really crowd it. But when they get a look at that cardiogram on the
+screen they'll just throw up their hands. He's got to have a transplant,
+nothing less, and even if we can keep him alive until a surgical team
+gets here the odds are a thousand to one against his surviving the
+surgery."
+
+"Well, he's been asking for it," Jack said. "They've been trying to get
+him into the hospital for a cardiac transplant for years. Everybody's
+known that one of those towering rages would get him sooner or later."
+
+"Maybe he'll hold on better than we think," Dal said. "Let's watch and
+wait."
+
+But the Black Doctor was not doing well. Moment by moment he grew
+weaker, laboring harder for air as his blood pressure crept slowly down.
+Half an hour later the pain returned; Tiger took another tracing while
+Dal checked his venous pressure and shock level.
+
+As he finished, Dal felt the Black Doctor's eyes on him. "It's going to
+be all right," he said. "There'll be time for help to come."
+
+Feebly the Black Doctor shook his head. "No time," he said. "Can't wait
+that long." Dal could see the fear in the old man's eyes. His lips began
+to move again as though there were something more he wanted to say; but
+then his face hardened, and he turned his head away helplessly.
+
+Dal walked around the bed and looked down at the tracing, comparing it
+with the first one that was taken. "What do you think, Tiger?"
+
+"It's no good. He'll never make it for five more hours."
+
+"What about right now?"
+
+Tiger shook his head. "It's a terrible surgical risk."
+
+"But every minute of waiting makes it worse, right?"
+
+"That's right."
+
+"Then I think we'll stop waiting," Dal said. "We have a prosthetic heart
+in condition for use, don't we?"
+
+"Of course."
+
+"Good. Get it ready now." It seemed as though someone else were
+talking. "You'll have to be first assistant, Tiger. We'll get him onto
+the heart-lung machine, and if we don't have help available by then,
+we'll have to try to complete the transplant. Jack, you'll give
+anaesthesia, and it will be a tricky job. Try to use local blocks as
+much as you can, and have the heart-lung machine ready well in advance.
+We'll only have a few seconds to make the shift. Now let's get moving."
+
+Tiger stared at him. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"
+
+"I never wanted anything less in my life," Dal said fervently. "But do
+you think he can survive until a Hospital Ship arrives?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Then it seems to me that I don't have any choice. You two don't need to
+worry. This is a surgical problem now, and I'll take full
+responsibility."
+
+The Black Doctor was watching him, and Dal knew he had heard the
+conversation. Now the old man lay helplessly as they moved about getting
+the surgical room into preparation. Jack prepared the anaesthetics,
+checked and rechecked the complex heart-lung machine which could
+artificially support circulation and respiration at the time that the
+damaged heart was separated from its great vessels. The transplant
+prosthetic heart had been grown in the laboratories on Hospital Earth
+from embryonic tissue; Tiger removed it from the frozen specimen locker
+and brought it to normal body temperature in the special warm saline
+bath designed for the purpose.
+
+Throughout the preparations the Black Doctor lay watching, still
+conscious enough to recognize what was going on, attempting from time to
+time to shake his head in protest but not quite succeeding. Finally Dal
+came to the bedside. "Don't be afraid," he said gently to the old man.
+"It isn't safe to try to delay until the ship from Hospital Earth can
+get here. Every minute we wait is counting against you. I think I can
+manage the transplant if I start now. I know you don't like it, but I am
+the Red Doctor in authority on this ship. If I have to order you, I
+will."
+
+The Black Doctor lay silent for a moment, staring at Dal. Then the fear
+seemed to fade from his face, and the anger disappeared. With a great
+effort he moved his head to nod. "All right, son," he said softly. "Do
+the best you know how."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dal knew from the moment he made the decision to go ahead that the thing
+he was undertaking was all but hopeless.
+
+There was little or no talk as the three doctors worked at the operating
+table. The overhead light in the ship's tiny surgery glowed brightly;
+the only sound in the room was the wheeze of the anaesthesia apparatus,
+the snap of clamps and the doctors' own quiet breathing as they worked
+desperately against time.
+
+Dal felt as if he were in a dream, working like an automaton, going
+through mechanical motions that seemed completely unrelated to the
+living patient that lay on the operating table. In his training he had
+assisted at hundreds of organ transplant operations; he himself had done
+dozens of cardiac transplants, with experienced surgeons assisting and
+guiding him until the steps of the procedure had become almost second
+nature. On Hospital Earth, with the unparalleled medical facilities
+available there, and with well-trained teams of doctors, anaesthetists
+and nurses the technique of replacing an old worn-out damaged heart with
+a new and healthy one had become commonplace. It posed no more threat to
+a patient than a simple appendectomy had posed three centuries before.
+
+But here in the patrol ship's operating room under emergency conditions
+there seemed little hope of success. Already the Black Doctor had
+suffered violent shock from the damage that had occurred in his heart.
+Already he was clinging to life by a fragile thread; the additional
+shock of the surgery, of the anaesthesia and the necessary conversion to
+the heart-lung machine while the delicate tissues of the new heart were
+fitted and sutured into place vessel by vessel was more than any patient
+could be expected to survive.
+
+Yet Dal had known when he saw the second cardiogram that the attempt
+would have to be made. Now he worked swiftly, his frail body engulfed in
+the voluminous surgical gown, his thin fingers working carefully with
+the polished instruments. Speed and skill were all that could save the
+Black Doctor now, to offer him the one chance in a thousand that he had
+for survival.
+
+But the speed and skill had to be Dal's. Dal knew that, and the
+knowledge was like a lead weight strapped to his shoulders. If Black
+Doctor Hugo Tanner was fighting for his life now, Dal knew that he too
+was fighting for his life--the only kind of life that he wanted, the
+life of a physician.
+
+Black Doctor Tanner's antagonism to him as an alien, as an incompetent,
+as one who was unworthy to wear the collar and cuff of a physician from
+Hospital Earth, was common knowledge. Dal realized with perfect clarity
+that if he failed now, his career as a physician would be over; no one,
+not even himself, would ever be entirely certain that he had not
+somehow, in some dim corner of his mind, allowed himself to fail.
+
+Yet if he had not made the attempt and the Black Doctor had died before
+help had come, there would always be those who would accuse him of
+delaying on purpose.
+
+His mouth was dry; he longed for a drink of water, even though he knew
+that no water could quench this kind of thirst. His fingers grew numb as
+he worked, and moment by moment the sense of utter hopelessness grew
+stronger in his mind. Tiger worked stolidly across the table from him,
+inexpert help at best because of the sketchy surgical training he had
+had. Even his solid presence in support here did not lighten the burden
+for Dal. There was nothing that Tiger could do or say that would help
+things or change things now. Even Fuzzy, waiting alone on his perch in
+the control room, could not help him now. Nothing could help now but his
+own individual skill as a surgeon, and his bitter determination that he
+must not and would not fail.
+
+But his fingers faltered as a thousand questions welled up in his mind.
+Was he doing this right? This vessel here ... clamp it and tie it? Or
+dissect it out and try to preserve it? This nerve plexus ... which one
+was it? How important? How were the blood pressure and respirations
+doing? Was the Black Doctor holding his own under the assault of the
+surgery?
+
+The more Dal tried to hurry the more he seemed to be wading through
+waist-deep mud, unable to make his fingers do what he wanted them to do.
+How could he save ten seconds, twenty seconds, a half a minute? That
+half a minute might make the difference between success or failure, yet
+the seconds ticked by swiftly and the procedure was going slowly.
+
+Too slowly. He reached a point where he thought he could not go on. His
+mind was searching desperately for help--any kind of help, something to
+lean on, something to brace him and give him support. And then quite
+suddenly he understood something clearly that had been nibbling at the
+corners of his mind for a long time. It was as if someone had snapped on
+a floodlight in a darkened room, and he saw something he had never seen
+before.
+
+He saw that from the first day he had stepped down from the Garvian ship
+that had brought him to Hospital Earth to begin his medical training, he
+had been relying upon crutches to help him.
+
+Black Doctor Arnquist had been a crutch upon whom he could lean. Tiger,
+for all his clumsy good-heartedness and for all the help and protection
+he had offered, had been a crutch. Fuzzy, who had been by his side since
+the day he was born, was still another kind of crutch to fall back on, a
+way out, a port of haven in the storm. They were crutches, every one,
+and he had leaned on them heavily.
+
+But now there was no crutch to lean on. He had a quick mind with good
+training. He had two nimble hands that knew their job, and two legs that
+were capable of supporting his weight, frail as they were. He knew now
+that he had to stand on them squarely, for the first time in his life.
+
+And suddenly he realized that this was as it should be. It seemed so
+clear, so obvious and unmistakable that he wondered how he could have
+failed to recognize it for so long. If he could not depend on himself,
+then Black Doctor Hugo Tanner would have been right all along. If he
+could not do this job that was before him on his own strength, standing
+on his own two legs without crutches to lean on, how could he claim to
+be a competent physician? What right did he have to the goal he sought
+if he had to earn it on the strength of the help of others? It was _he_
+who wanted to be a Star Surgeon--not Fuzzy, not Tiger, nor anyone else.
+
+He felt his heart thudding in his chest, and he saw the operation before
+him as if he were standing in an amphitheater peering down over some
+other surgeon's shoulder. Suddenly everything else was gone from his
+mind but the immediate task at hand. His fingers began to move more
+swiftly, with a confidence he had never felt before. The decisions to be
+made arose, and he made them without hesitation, and knew as he made
+them that they were right.
+
+And for the first time the procedure began to move. He murmured
+instructions to Jack from time to time, and placed Tiger's clumsy hands
+in the places he wanted them for retraction. "Not there, back a little,"
+he said. "That's right. Now hold this clamp and release it slowly while
+I tie, then reclamp it. Slowly now ... that's the way! Jack, check that
+pressure again."
+
+It seemed as though someone else were doing the surgery, directing his
+hands step by step in the critical work that had to be done. Dal placed
+the connections to the heart-lung machine perfectly, and moved with new
+swiftness and confidence as the great blood vessels were clamped off and
+the damaged heart removed. A quick check of vital signs, chemistries,
+oxygenation, a sharp instruction to Jack, a caution to Tiger, and the
+new prosthetic heart was in place. He worked now with painstaking care,
+manipulating the micro-sutures that would secure the new vessels to the
+old so firmly that they were almost indistinguishable from a healed
+wound, and he knew that it was going _right_ now, that whether the
+patient ultimately survived or not, he had made the right decision and
+had carried it through with all the skill at his command.
+
+And then the heart-lung machine fell silent again, and the carefully
+applied nodal stimulator flicked on and off, and slowly, at first
+hesitantly, then firmly and vigorously, the new heart began its endless
+pumping chore. The Black Doctor's blood pressure moved up to a healthy
+level and stabilized; the gray flesh of his face slowly became suffused
+with healthy pink. It was over, and Dal was walking out of the surgery,
+his hands trembling so violently that he could hardly get his gown off.
+He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and he could see the silent
+pride in the others' faces as they joined him in the dressing room to
+change clothes.
+
+He knew then that no matter what happened he had vindicated himself.
+Half an hour later, back in the sickbay, the Black Doctor was awake,
+breathing slowly and easily without need of supplemental oxygen. Only
+the fine sweat standing out on his forehead gave indication of the
+ordeal he had been through.
+
+Swiftly and clinically Dal checked the vital signs as the old man
+watched him. He was about to turn the pressure cuff over to Jack and
+leave when the Black Doctor said, "Wait."
+
+Dal turned to him. "Yes, sir?"
+
+"You did it?" the Black Doctor said softly.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"It's finished? The transplant is done?"
+
+"Yes," Dal said. "It went well, and you can rest now. You were a good
+patient."
+
+For the first time Dal saw a smile cross the old man's face. "A foolish
+patient, perhaps," he said, so softly that no one but Dal could hear,
+"but not so foolish now, not so foolish that I cannot recognize a good
+doctor when I see one."
+
+And with a smile he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER 14
+
+STAR SURGEON
+
+
+It was amazing to Dal Timgar just how good it seemed to be back on
+Hospital Earth again.
+
+In the time he had been away as a crewman of the _Lancet_, the seasons
+had changed, and the port of Philadelphia lay under the steaming summer
+sun. As Dal stepped off the shuttle ship to join the hurrying crowds in
+the great space-port, it seemed almost as though he were coming home.
+
+He thought for a moment of the night not so long before when he had
+waited here for the shuttle to Hospital Seattle, to attend the meeting
+of the medical training council. He had worn no uniform then, not even
+the collar and cuff of the probationary physician, and he remembered his
+despair that night when he had thought that his career as a physician
+from Hospital Earth was at an end.
+
+Now he was returning by shuttle from Hospital Seattle to the port of
+Philadelphia again, completing the cycle that had been started many
+months before. But things were different now. The scarlet cape of the
+Red Service of Surgery hung from his slender shoulders now, and the
+light of the station room caught the polished silver emblem on his
+collar. It was a tiny bit of metal, but its significance was enormous.
+It announced to the world Dal Timgar's final and permanent acceptance as
+a physician; but more, it symbolized the far-reaching distances he had
+already traveled, and would travel again, in the service of Hospital
+Earth.
+
+It was the silver star of the Star Surgeon.
+
+The week just past had been both exciting and confusing. The hospital
+ship had arrived five hours after Black Doctor Hugo Tanner had recovered
+from his anaesthesia, moving in on the _Lancet_ in frantic haste and
+starting the shipment of special surgical supplies, anaesthetics and
+maintenance equipment across in lifeboats almost before contact had been
+stabilized. A large passenger boat hurtled away from the hospital ship's
+side, carrying a pair of Four-star surgeons, half a dozen Three-star
+Surgeons, two Radiologists, two Internists, a dozen nurses and another
+Four-star Black Doctor across to the _Lancet_; and when they arrived at
+the patrol ship's entrance lock, they discovered that their haste had
+been in vain.
+
+It was like Grand Rounds in the general wards of Hospital Philadelphia,
+with the Four-star Surgeons in the lead as they tramped aboard the
+patrol ship. They found Black Doctor Tanner sitting quietly at his
+bedside reading a journal of pathology and taking notes. He glared up at
+them when they burst in the door without even knocking.
+
+"But are you feeling well, sir?" the chief surgeon asked him for the
+third time.
+
+"Of course I'm feeling well. Do you think I'd be sitting here if I
+weren't?" the Black Doctor growled. "Dr. Timgar is my surgeon and the
+physician in charge of this case. Talk to him. He can give you all the
+details of the matter."
+
+"You mean you permitted a probationary physician to perform this kind of
+surgery?" The Four-star Surgeon cried incredulously.
+
+"I did not!" the Black Doctor snapped. "He had to drag me kicking and
+screaming into the operating room. But fortunately for me, this
+particular probationary physician had the courage of his convictions, as
+well as wit enough to realize that I would not survive if he waited for
+you to gather your army together. But I think you will find the surgery
+was handled with excellent skill. Again, I must refer you to Dr. Timgar
+for the details. I was not paying attention to the technique of the
+surgery, I assure you."
+
+"But sir," the chief surgeon broke in, "how could there have been
+surgery of any sort here? The dispatch that came to us listed the
+_Lancet_ as a plague ship--"
+
+"_Plague ship!_" the Black Doctor exploded. "Oh, yes. Egad!
+I--hum!--imagine that the dispatcher must have gotten his signals mixed
+somehow. Well, I suppose you want to examine me. Let's have it over
+with."
+
+The doctors examined him within an inch of his life. They exhausted
+every means of physical, laboratory and radiological examination short
+of re-opening his chest and looking in, and at last the chief surgeon
+was forced reluctantly to admit that there was nothing left for him to
+do but provide post-operative follow-up care for the irascible old man.
+
+And by the time the examination was over and the Black Doctor was moved
+aboard the hospital ship, word had come through official channels to the
+_Lancet_ announcing that the quarantine order had been a dispatcher's
+unfortunate error, and directing the ship to return at once to Hospital
+Earth with the new contract that had been signed on 31 Brucker VII. The
+crewmen of the _Lancet_ had special orders to report immediately to the
+medical training council at Hospital Seattle upon arrival, in order to
+give their formal General Practice Patrol reports and to receive their
+appointments respectively as Star Physician, Star Diagnostician and Star
+Surgeon. The orders were signed with the personal mark of Hugo Tanner,
+Physician of the Black Service of Pathology.
+
+Now the ceremony and celebration in Hospital Seattle were over, and Dal
+had another appointment to keep. He lifted Fuzzy from his elbow and
+tucked him safely into an inner jacket pocket to protect him from the
+crowd in the station, and moved swiftly through to the subway tubes.
+
+He had expected to see Black Doctor Arnquist at the investment
+ceremonies, but there had been neither sign nor word from him. Dal tried
+to reach him after the ceremonies were over; all he could learn was that
+the Black Doctor was unavailable. And then a message had come through to
+Dal under the official Hospital Earth headquarters priority, requesting
+him to present himself at once at the grand council building at Hospital
+Philadelphia for an interview of the utmost importance.
+
+He followed the directions on the dispatch now, and reached the grand
+council building well ahead of the appointed time. He followed corridors
+and rode elevators until he reached the twenty-second story office suite
+where he had been directed to report. The whole building seemed alive
+with bustle, as though something of enormous importance was going on;
+high-ranking physicians of all the services were hurrying about,
+gathering in little groups at the elevators and talking among themselves
+in hushed voices. Even more strange, Dal saw delegation after delegation
+of alien creatures moving through the building, some in the special
+atmosphere-maintaining devices necessary for their survival on Earth,
+some characteristically alone and unaccompanied, others in the company
+of great retinues of underlings. Dal paused in the main concourse of
+the building as he saw two such delegations arrive by special car from
+the port of Philadelphia.
+
+"Odd," he said quietly, reaching in to stroke Fuzzy's head. "Quite a
+gathering of the clans, eh? What do you think? Last time I saw a
+gathering like this was back at home during one of the centennial
+conclaves of the Galactic Confederation."
+
+On the twenty-second floor, a secretary ushered him into an inner
+office. There he found Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist, in busy
+conference with a Blue Doctor, a Green Doctor and a surgeon. The Black
+Doctor looked up, and beamed. "That will be all right now, gentlemen,"
+he said. "I'll be in touch with you directly."
+
+He waited until the others had departed. Then he crossed the room and
+practically hugged Dal in delight. "It's good to see you, boy," he said,
+"and above all, it's good to see that silver star at last. You and your
+little pink friend have done a good job, a far better job than I thought
+you would do, I must admit."
+
+Dal perched Fuzzy on his shoulder. "But what is this about an interview?
+Why did you want to see me, and what are all these people doing here?"
+
+Dr. Arnquist laughed. "Don't worry," he said. "You won't have to stay
+for the council meeting. It will be a long boring session, I fear.
+Doubtless every single one of these delegates at some time in the next
+few days will be standing up to give us a three hour oration, and it is
+my ill fortune as a Four-star Black Doctor to have to sit and listen and
+smile through it all. But in the end, it will be worth it, and I thought
+that you should at least know that your name will be mentioned many
+times during these sessions."
+
+"My name?"
+
+"You didn't know that you were a guinea pig, did you?" the Black Doctor
+said.
+
+"I ... I'm afraid I didn't."
+
+"An unwitting tool, so to speak," the Black Doctor chuckled. "You know,
+of course, that the Galactic Confederation has been delaying and
+stalling any action on Hospital Earth's application for full status as
+one of the Confederation powers and for a seat on the council. We had
+fulfilled two criteria for admission without difficulty--we had resolved
+our problems at home so that we were free from war on our own planet,
+and we had a talent that is much needed and badly in demand in the
+galaxy, a job to do that would fit into the Confederation's
+organization. But the Confederation has always had a third criterion for
+its membership, a criterion that Hospital Earth could not so easily
+prove or demonstrate."
+
+The Black Doctor smiled. "After all, there could be no place in a true
+Confederation of worlds for any one race of people that considered
+itself superior to all the rest. No race can be admitted to the
+Confederation until its members have demonstrated that they are capable
+of tolerance, willing to accept the members of other races on an equal
+footing. And it has always been the nature of Earthmen to be intolerant,
+to assume that one who looks strange and behaves differently must
+somehow be inferior."
+
+The Black Doctor crossed the room and opened a folder on the desk. "You
+can read the details some other time, if you like. You were selected by
+the Galactic Confederation from a thousand possible applicants, to serve
+as a test case, to see if a place could be made for you on Hospital
+Earth. No one here was told of your position--not even you--although
+certain of us suspected the truth. The Confederation wanted to see if a
+well-qualified, likeable and intelligent creature from another world
+would be accepted and elevated to equal rank as a physician with
+Earthmen."
+
+Dal stared at him. "And I was the one?"
+
+"You were the one. It was a struggle, all right, but Hospital Earth has
+finally satisfied the Confederation. At the end of this conclave we will
+be admitted to full membership and given a permanent seat and vote in
+the galactic council. Our probationary period will be over. But enough
+of that. What about you? What are your plans? What do you propose to do
+now that you have that star on your collar?"
+
+They talked then about the future. Tiger Martin had been appointed to
+the survey crew returning to 31 Brucker VII, at his own request, while
+Jack was accepting a temporary teaching post in the great diagnostic
+clinic at Hospital Philadelphia. There were a dozen things that Dal had
+considered, but for the moment he wanted only to travel from medical
+center to medical center on Hospital Earth, observing and studying in
+order to decide how he would best like to use his abilities and his
+position as a Physician from Hospital Earth. "It will be in surgery, of
+course," he said. "Just where in surgery, or what kind, I don't know
+just yet. But there will be time enough to decide that."
+
+"Then go along," Dr. Arnquist said, "with my congratulations and
+blessing. You have taught us a great deal, and perhaps you have learned
+some things at the same time."
+
+Dal hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. "I've learned some things,"
+he said, "but there's still one thing that I want to do before I go."
+
+He lifted his little pink friend gently down from his shoulder and
+rested him in the crook of his arm. Fuzzy looked up at him, blinking his
+shoe-button eyes happily. "You asked me once to leave Fuzzy with you,
+and I refused. I couldn't see then how I could possibly do without him;
+even the thought was frightening. But now I think I've changed my mind."
+
+He reached out and placed Fuzzy gently in the Black Doctor's hand. "I
+want you to keep him," he said. "I don't think I'll need him any more.
+I'll miss him, but I think it would be better if I don't have him now.
+Be good to him, and let me visit him once in a while."
+
+The Black Doctor looked at Dal, and then lifted Fuzzy up to his own
+shoulder. For a moment the little creature shivered as if afraid. Then
+he blinked twice at Dal, trustingly, and snuggled in comfortably against
+the Black Doctor's neck.
+
+Without a word Dal turned and walked out of the office. As he stepped
+down the corridor, he waited fearfully for the wave of desolation and
+loneliness he had felt before when Fuzzy was away from him.
+
+But there was no hint of those desolate feelings in his mind now. And
+after all, he thought, why should there be? He was not a Garvian any
+longer. He was a Star Surgeon from Hospital Earth.
+
+He smiled as he stepped from the elevator into the main lobby and
+crossed through the crowd to the street doors. He pulled his scarlet
+cape tightly around his throat. Drawing himself up to the full height of
+which he was capable, he walked out of the building and strode down onto
+the street.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+_Also by Alan E. Nourse_
+
+
+ROCKET TO LIMBO
+
+SCAVENGERS IN SPACE
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Star Surgeon, by Alan Nourse
+
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