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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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