No Charge for Alterations

by H. L. Gold

  Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  No Charge For Alterations

  By H. L. GOLD

  _Illustrator_: H. Sharp

  [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Amazing StoriesApril-May 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: _"Wanta know what's wrong with women these days? Spoiled! Thewhole kit and kaboodle of 'em. They want to sing in nightclubs and hookup with some millionaire and wear beautiful clothes. Housework issomething for gadgets to take care of, with maids to run the gadgets.Afraid to get a few calluses on their dainty hands!_

  "_We got a way to handle that on Deneb. A girl gets highfalutin upthere, the Doc puts her in the Ego Alter room. Thicken up her ankles alittle, take some of the sparkle out of her eyes and hair, and you get awoman fit to pull a plow!_"

  _Hold it, Madam! H. L. Gold said that; not us. Personally, we likegirls--not Percherons!_]

  If there was one thing Dr. Kalmar hated, and there were many, it washaving a new assistant fresh from a medical school on Earth. They alwayswanted to change things. They never realized that a planet develops itsown techniques to meet its own requirements, which are seldom similar tothose of any other world. Dr. Kalmar never got along with his assistantsand he didn't expect to get along with this young Dr. Hoyt who wascoming in on the transfer ship from Vega.

  Dr. Kalmar had been trained on Earth himself, of course, but hewistfully remembered how he had revered Dr. Lowell when he had beenLowell's assistant. He'd known that his own green learning was no matchfor Dr. Lowell's wisdom and experience after 30 years on Deneb, and hehad avidly accepted his lessons.

  Why, he grumbled to himself on his way to the spaceport to meet theunknown whippersnapper, why didn't Earth turn out young doctors the wayit used to? They ought to have the arrogance knocked out of them beforethey left medical school. That's what must have happened to him, becausehis attitude had certainly been humble when he landed.

  The spaceport was jammed, naturally. Ship arrivals were infrequentenough to bring everybody from all over the planet who was not on dutyat the farms, mines, factories, freight and passenger jets and all therest of the busy activities of this comparatively new colony. Theybrought their lunches and families and stood around to watch. Dr. Kalmarwent to the platform.

  The ship sat down on a mushroom of fire that swiftly became a flamingpancake and then was squashed out of existence.

  "I'm waiting for a shipment of livestock," enthused the man standingnext to Dr. Kalmar.

  "You're lucky," the doctor said. "They can't talk back."

  The man looked at him sympathetically. "Meeting a female?"

  "Gabbier and more annoying," said Dr. Kalmar, but he didn't elaborateand the man, with the courtesy of the frontier, did not pry for anexplanation.

  Livestock and freight came down on one elevator and passengers came downanother. Slidewalks carried the cargo to Sterilization and travelers tothe greeting platform. Dr. Kalmar felt his shoulders droop. The man withthe medical bag had to be Dr. Hoyt and he was even more brisk, erect andmuscular than Dr. Kalmar had expected, with a superior and inquisitivelook that made the last assistant, unbearable as he'd been, seem astractable as one of the arriving cows.

  Dr. Hoyt spotted him instantly and came striding over to grab his handin a grip like an ore-crusher. "You're Dr. Kalmar. Glad to know you. I'msure we'll get along fine together. Miserable trip. Had to change shipsfour times to get here. Hope the food's better than shipboard slop. Gota nice hospital to work in? Do I live in or out?"

  Dr. Kalmar was grudgingly forced to say rapidly, "Right. Likewise. Ihope so. Too bad. Suits us. I think so. In."

  He got Dr. Hoyt into a jetcab and told the driver to make time back tothe hospital. Appointments were piling up while he had to make thecourtesy trip out to the spaceport, which was another nuisance. Now he'dhave all of those and a talkative assistant who'd want to know thereasons for everything.

  "Pretty barren," said Dr. Hoyt, looking out the window at thevegetationless ground below. "Why's that?"

  He'd known he was going to Deneb, Dr. Kalmar thought angrily. The leasthe could have done was read up on the place. _He_ had.

  "It's an Earth-type planet," Dr. Kalmar said in a blunt voice, "exceptthat life never developed on it. We had to bring everything--benign germcultures, seed, animals, fish, insects--a whole ecology. Our farms areclose to the cities. Too wasteful of freight to move them out very far.Another few centuries and we'll have a _real_ population, millions ofpeople instead of the 20,000 we have now in a couple of dozensettlements around this world. Then we'll have the whole place a niceshade of green."

  "City boy myself," said Dr. Hoyt. "Hate the country. Hydroponics andsynthetic meat--that's the answer."

  "For Earth. It'll be a long time before we get that crowded here onDeneb."

  "Deneb," the young doctor repeated, dissatisfied. "That's the name ofthe star. You mean to tell me the planet has the same name?"

  "Most solar systems have only one Earth-type planet. It saves a lot oftrouble to just call that planet Deneb, Vega or whatever."

  "Is _that_ clutch of shacks the _city_?" exclaimed Dr. Hoyt.

  "Denebia," said Dr. Kalmar, beginning to enjoy himself finally.

  "Why, you could lose it in a suburb or Bosyorkdelphia!"

  "That monstrosity that used to be New York, Pennsylvania, Connecticut,Rhode Island and Massachusetts? I wouldn't want to."

  He was pleased when Dr. Hoyt sank into stunned silence. If luck was withhim, that stupefaction might last the whole day. It seemed as though itmight, for the sight of the modest little hospital was too much for theyoungster who had just come from the mammoth health factories of Earth.

  Dr. Hoyt revived somewhat when he saw the patients waiting in thescantily furnished outer room, but Dr. Kalmar said, "Better get yourselfsettled," and opened a door for his immature colleague.

  "But there's only one bed in this room," Dr. Hoyt objected. "You musthave made a mistake."

  Dr. Kalmar, recalling the crowded cubicles of Earth, gave out a proudlittle dry laugh. "You're on Deneb now, boy. Here you'll have to getused to spaciousness. We like elbow room."

  The young doctor went in hesitantly, leaving the door open for a fastescape in case an error had been made. Dr. Kalmar had done the same whenhe'd arrived nine years ago. Judging by his own experience, it wouldtake Dr. Hoyt a full six months to get used to having a room all tohimself. There would be plenty of time to start showing him the ropestomorrow, and in the meantime there were the backed-up appointments tobe taken care of.

  Dr. Kalmar went to his office and had his nurse, Miss Dupont, send inthe first patient.

  It was a girl of 17, Avis Emery, who had been brought by her parents.She sat sullenly, dark-haired, too daintily pretty and delicatelyshapely for a frontier world like this, while Mr. Emery put the filefrom Social Control on the doctor's desk.

  "We're farmers--" the man began.

  Dr. Kalmar interrupted, "The information is in the summary. Avis is tobe assigned her mate next year, but she wants to go to Earth and becomea nightclub singer. She refuses to marry a boy who'd be able to helparound the farm, and she won't work on it herself."

  He looked up severely at the parents. "This is your own fault, you know.You pampered her. Farm labor is too valuable for pampering. We can'tafford it."

  "You can blame me, Doc," said Mr. Emery miserably. "She's such a prettylittle thing--I couldn't work her the way Sue and I work ourselves."

  "And then she started getting notions," Mrs
. Emery added, giving herhusband a vicious glare. Dr. Kalmar could imagine the nights of argumentand accusation before they were at last forced to go for medical help tosolve their self-created problem. "Singing in nightclubs back on Earth,marrying a billionaire, living in a sky yacht!"

  "Avis," said Dr. Kalmar gently. "You know it's not that easy, don't you?There are lots and lots of pretty girls on Earth and very fewbillionaires. If you did get a job singing in a nightclub, you knowyou'd have to do some unpleasant things because there's so muchcompetition for customers. Things like stripteasing, drinking at thetables and going out with whoever the owner tells you