by James White
Timmins regarded her silently for a moment, then it smiled and said, “Right now, Cha Thrat, I wouldn’t want to send anyone else to the AUGL ward. Don’t worry about it.
“Krachlan,” it went on briskly. “You are for Level Eighty-three, another fault reported in the power converter at Station Fourteen B. We may have to replace the unit …”
All the way to the Chalder level, Cha Thrat seethed quietly as she wondered how such a stupid, insensitive, cross-species miscegenation as Timmins had risen to its high rank and responsibilities without sustaining mortal injury at the hands, claws, or tentacles of a subordinate. By the time she reached the AUGL ward and entered inconspicuously by the service tunnel lock, she had calmed sufficiently to remember a few, a very few, of Timmins’s good qualities.
She was relieved when nobody came near her as she went to work. All of the patients and nursing staff seemed to be congregated at the other end of the ward and dimly, through the clouded green water, she could see the distinctive coveralls of a transfer team member. Plainly something of great interest was happening back there, which meant that with luck she would be able to complete her work undisturbed and unnoticed.
Seemingly it was not to be her lucky day.
“It’s you again,” said the familiar, acid-tongued voice of Hredlichli, who had approached silently from behind her. “How long will it take for you to finish hanging that vile stuff?”
“Most of the morning, Charge Nurse,” Cha Thrat replied politely.
She did not want to get into an argument with the chlorine-breather, and it seemed as if one were about to start. She wondered if it was possible to forestall it by doing all the talking herself on a subject that Hredlichli could not argue about, the improved comfort of its patients.
“The reason for it taking so long to install, Charge Nurse,” she said quickly, “is that this vegetation isn’t the usual plastic reproduction. I’ve been told that it has just arrived from Chalderescol, that it is a native underwater plant-form, very hardy and requiring the minimum of attention, and that it releases a pleasant, waterborne aroma that is said to be psychologically beneficial to the recuperating patient.
“Maintenance will periodically check its growth and general health,” she went on before the chlorine-breather could respond, “and supply the nutrient material. But the patients could be given the job of caring for it, as something interesting to do to relieve their boredom, and to leave the nurses free to attend—”
“Cha Thrat,” Hredlichli broke in sharply, “are you telling me how I should run my ward?”
“No,” she replied, wishing not for the first time that her mouth did not run so far ahead of her mind. “I apologize, Charge Nurse. I no longer have responsibility for any aspect of patient care, and I did not wish to imply that I did. While I am here I shall not even talk to a patient.”
Hredlichli made an untranslatable sound, then said, “You’ll talk to one patient, at least. That is why I asked Timmins to send you here today. Your friend, AUGL-One Sixteen, is going home, and I thought you might want to wish it well—everybody else in the ward seems to be doing so. Leave that disgusting mess you’re working on and finish it later.”
Cha Thrat could not speak for a moment. Since the transfer to Maintenance she had lost contact with her Chalder friend, and knew only that it was still on the hospital’s list of patients under treatment. The most she had hoped for today, and it had been a pretty forlorn hope, was that Hredlichli would allow her a few words with the patient while she was working. But this was completely unexpected.
“Thank you, Charge Nurse,” she said finally. “This is most considerate of you.”
The chlorine-breather made another untranslatable noise. It said, “Since I was appointed Charge Nurse here I’ve been agitating to have this antiquated underwater dungeon redecorated, reequipped, and converted into something resembling a proper ward. Thanks to you that is now being done, and once I recovered from the initial trauma of having my ward wrecked, I decided that I owed you one.
“Even so,” it added, “I shall not suffer terminal mental anguish if I don’t see you again after today.”
AUGL-One Sixteen had already been inserted into its transfer tank and only the hatch above its head remained to be sealed, after which it would be moved through the lock in the outer hull and across to the waiting Chalder ship. A group comprised of well-wishing nurses, visibly impatient transfer team members, and the Earth-human O’Mara hung around the opening like a shoal of ungainly fish, but the loud, bubbling sounds from the tank’s water-purifying equipment made it difficult to hear what was being said. As she approached, the Chief Psychologist waved the others back.
“Keep it short, Cha Thrat, the team is behind schedule,” O’Mara said, turning away and leaving her alone with the ex-patient.
For what seemed a long time she looked at the one enormous eye and the great teeth in the part of its head visible through the open seal, and the words she wanted to speak would not come. Finally she said, “That looks like a very small tank, are you comfortable in there?”
“Quite comfortable, Cha Thrat,” the Chalder replied. “Actually, it isn’t much smaller than my accommodation on the ship. But that constriction will be temporary, soon I’ll have a planetary ocean to swim in.
“And before you ask,” the AUGL went on, “I am feeling fine, really well, in fact, so you don’t have to go poking about in this pain-free and disgustingly healthy body checking my vital signs.”
“I don’t ask questions like that anymore,” Cha Thrat said, wishing suddenly that she could laugh like Earth-humans to hide the fact that she did not feel like laughing. “I’m in Maintenance now, so my instruments are much larger and would be very much more uncomfortable.”
“O’Mara told me about that,” the Chalder said. “Is the work interesting?”
Neither of them, Cha Thrat felt sure, were saying the things they wanted to say.
“Very interesting,” she replied. “I’m learning a lot about the inner workings of this place, and the Monitor Corps pays me, not very much, for doing it. When I’ve saved enough to take some leave on Chalderescol, I’ll go and see how everything is with you.”
“If you visited me, Cha Thrat,” the AUGL broke in, “you would not be allowed to spend any of your hard-earned Monitor currency on Chalderescol. As you are a name-user and off-world member of my family, they would be deeply insulted, and would probably have you for lunch, if you tried.”
“In that case,” Cha Thrat said happily, “I shall probably visit you quite soon.”
“If you don’t swim clear, Technician,” said an Earth-human in Transfer Team coveralls who had appeared beside her, “we’ll seal you in the tank now, and you can damn well travel there with your friend!”
“Muromeshomon,” she said quietly as the seal was closing, “may you fare well.”
When she turned to go back to the unplanted vegetation, Cha Thrat’s mind was concentrated on her Chalder friend to such an extent that she did not think of the impropriety of what she, a mere secondgrade technician, said to the Earth-human Monitor Corps Major as she passed it.
“My congratulations, Chief Psychologist,” she said gratefully, “on a most successfull spell.”
O’Mara responded by opening its mouth, but not even an untranslatable sound came out.
The three days that followed were spent on the Rhabwar resupply job, bringing crew consumables and time-expired equipment to the largely Earth-human maintenance people charged with bringing the ambulance ship to peak operating efficiency, and occasionally assisting with the installation of some of the simpler items. On its next trip Rhabwar would be carrying Diagnostician Conway, a former leader of its medical team, and the present crew did not want it to find any cause for complaint.
On the fourth day, Timmins asked Cha Thrat to wait while the other assignments were given out.
“You seem to be very interested in our special ambulance ship,” the Lieutenant said when they were alone
. “I’m told that you’ve been climbing all over and through it, and mostly when it’s empty and you are supposed to be off-duty. Is this so?”
“Yes, sir,” Cha Thrat said enthusiastically. “It is a complex and beautifully functional vessel, judging by what I’ve heard and seen, and it is almost a miniature version of the hospital itself. The casualty treatment and other-species environmental arrangements are especially …” She broke off, to add warily, “I would not try to test or use any of this equipment without permission.”
“I should hope not!” the Lieutenant said. “All right, then. I have another job for you, on Rhabwar, if you think you can do it. Come with me.”
It was a small compartment that had been converted from a post-op recovery room, and it still retained its direct access to the ELNT Operating Theater. The ceiling had been lowered, which indicated that the occupant-to-be either crawled or did not stand very tall, and the plumbing and power supply lines, revealed by the incomplete wall paneling, bore the color codings for a warm-blooded oxygen-breather with normal gravity and atmospheric pressure requirements.
The wall panels that were in place had been finished to resemble rough planking with a strangely textured grain which resembled a mineral rather than wood. There was an untidy heap of decorative vegetation on the floor waiting to be hung, and beside it a large picture of a landscape that could have been taken in any forested lakeland on Sommaradva, if it had not been for subtle differences in the tree formations.
The framework and padding of a small, low-level bed was placed against the wall facing the entrance. But the most noticeable feature of the room, after she had blundered painfully against it, was the transparent wall that divided it in two. At one end of the wall there was a large door, outlined in red for visibility, and a smaller, central opening that contained remote handling and examination equipment capable of reaching across to the bed.
“This room is being prepared for a very special patient,” Timmins said. “It is a Gogleskan, physiological classification FOKT, who is a personal friend of Diagnostician Conway. The patient, indeed its whole species, has serious problems about which you can brief yourself when you have more time. It is a gravid female nearing full term. There are psychological factors that require that it receives constant reassurance, and Conway is clearing his present workload during the next few weeks so that he will be free to travel to Goglesk, pick up the patient, and return with it to Sector General in plenty of time before the event takes place.”
“I understand,” Cha Thrat said.
“What I want you to do,” Timmins went on, “is to set up a smaller and simpler version of this accommodation on Rhabwar’s casualty deck. You will draw the components from Stores and be given full assembly instructions. The work is slightly above your present technical level, but there is ample time for someone else to complete the job if you can’t do it. Do you want to try?”
“Oh, yes,” she said.
“Good,” the Earth-human said. “Look closely at this place. Pay special attention to the attachment fittings of the transparent wall. Don’t worry too much about the remote-controlled manipulators because the ship has its own. The patient restraints will have to be tested, but only under the supervision of one of the medical team who will be visiting you from time to time.
“Unlike this compartment,” it went on, “your casualty deck facility will be in use only during the trip from Goglesk to the hospital, so the wall covering will be a plastic film, painted to represent the wood paneling here and applied to the ship’s inner plating and bulkheads. This saves on installation time and, anyway, Captain Fletcher would not approve of us boring unnecessary holes in his ship. When you think you understand what you will be doing, collect the material from Stores and take it to the ship. I’ll see you there before you go off-duty …”
“Why the transparent wall and remote handling equipment?” Cha Thrat asked quickly, as the Lieutenant turned to go. “An FOKT classification doesn’t sound like a particularly large or dangerous life-form.”
“ … To answer any questions not covered by your information tape,” it ended firmly. “Enjoy yourself.”
The days that followed were not particularly enjoyable except in retrospect. The tri-di drawings and assembly instructions gave her a permanent headache during the first day and night but, from then on, Timmins’s visits to check on progress became less and less frequent. There were three visits from Charge Nurse Naydrad, the Kelgian member of the medical team who, Tarsedth informed her, was an expert in heavy rescue techniques.
Cha Thrat was polite without being subservient and Naydrad, in the manner of all Kelgians, was consistently rude. But it did not find fault with her work, and it answered any questions that it did not consider either irrelevant or stupid.
“I do not fully understand the reason for the transparent division in this compartment,” she said during one of its visits. “The Lieutenant tells me it is for psychological reasons, so that the patient will feel protected. But surely it would feel more protected by an opaque wall and a small window. Is the FOKT in need of a wizard as well as an obstetrician?”
“A wizard?” said the Kelgian in surprise, then it went on. “Of course, you must be the ex-medical trainee they’re all talking about who thinks O’Mara is a witch-doctor. Personally, I think you’re right. But it isn’t just the patient, Khone, who needs a wizard, it’s the whole planetary population of Goglesk. Khone is a volunteer, a test case and a very brave or stupid FOKT.”
“I still don’t understand,” Cha Thrat said. “Could you explain, please?”
“No,” Naydrad replied. “I don’t have the time to explain all the ramifications of the case, especially to a maintenance technician who has a morbid curiosity but no direct concern, or who feels lonely and wants to talk instead of work. Be glad you have no responsibility, this is a very tricky one.
“Anyway,” it went on, pointing toward the viewer and reference shelves at the other side of the compartment, “our copy of the casehistory tape runs for over two hours, if you’re that interested. Just don’t take it off the ship.”
She continued working, in spite of a constant temptation to break off for a quick look at the FOKT tape, until the maintenance engineer who had been checking Control poked its Earth-human head into the casualty deck.
“Time for lunch,” it said. “I’m going to the dining hall. Coming?”
“No, thank you,” she replied. “There’s something I have to do here.”
“This is the second time in three days you’ve missed lunch,” the Earth-human said. “Do Sommaradvans have some kind of crazy work ethic? Aren’t you hungry, or is it just an understandable aversion to hospital food?”
“No, yes very, and sometimes,” Cha Thrat said.
“I’ve a pack of sandwiches,” it said. “Guaranteed nutritious, nontoxic to all oxy-breathers and if you don’t look too closely at what’s inside, you should be able to make them stay down. Interested?”
“Very much,” Cha Thrat replied gratefully, thinking that now she would be able to satisfy her complaining stomach and spend the whole lunch period watching the FOKT tape.
The muted but insistent sound of the emergency siren brought her mind back from Goglesk and its peculiar problems to the realization that she had spent much longer than the stipulated lunch period watching the tape, and that the empty ship was rapidly filling with people.
She saw three Earth-humans in Monitor Corps green go past the casualty deck entrance, heading toward Control, and a few minutes later the lumpy green ball that was Danalta rolled onto the casualty deck. It was closely followed by an Earth-human, wearing whites with Pathology Department insignia, who had to be the DBDG female, Murchison; then Naydrad and Prilicla entered, the Kelgian undulating rapidly along the deck and the insectile Cinrusskin empath using the ceiling. The Charge Nurse went straight to the viewer, which was still running the FOKT tape, and switched it off as two more Earth-humans came in.
One of them was Ti
mmins and the other, judging by the uniform insignia and its air of authority, was the ship’s ruler, Major Fletcher. It was the Lieutenant who spoke first.
“How long will it take you to finish here?” it said.
“The rest of today,” Cha Thrat replied promptly, “and most of the night.”
Fletcher shook its head.
“I could bring in more people, sir,” Timmins said. “They would have to be briefed on the job, which would waste some time. But I’m sure I could shorten that to four, perhaps three hours.”
The ship ruler shook its head again.
“There is only one alternative,” the Lieutenant said.
For the first time Fletcher looked directly at Cha Thrat. It said, “The Lieutenant tells me that you are capable of completing and testing this facility yourself. Are you?”
“Yes,” Cha Thrat said.
“Have you any objections to doing so during a three-day trip to Goglesk?”
“No,” she said firmly.
The Earth-human looked up at Prilicla, the leader of the ship’s medical team, not needing to speak.
“I feel no strong objections from my colleagues to this being accompanying us, friend Fletcher,” the empath said, “since this is an emergency.”
“In that case,” Fletcher said as it turned to go, “we leave in fifteen minutes.”
Timmins looked as if it wanted to say something, a word of caution, perhaps, or advice, or reassurance. Instead it held up a loosely clenched fist with the opposable thumb projecting vertically from it in a gesture she had not seen it make before, and then it, too, was gone. Cha Thrat heard the sound of its feet on the metal floor of the ship’s boarding tube and, in spite of the four widely different life-forms closely surrounding her, suddenly she felt all alone.
“Don’t worry, Cha Thrat,” Prilicla said, the musical trills and clicks of its native speech backing the translated words. “You are among friends.”
