by James White
“A shape-changer!” Khone broke it. “Apologies are tendered to this entity, whose nonphysical qualities are doubtless admirable, but the thought of such a being is terrifying, and its close approach in the guise of one of my people would be unbearably repugnant. No!
“The tall creature,” it added, “would be much less disturbing.”
“The tall being,” said Prilicla apologetically, “is a hospital maintenance technician.”
“And previously,” Cha Thrat added quietly, “a warrior-surgeon of Sommaradva, with other-species experience.”
The empath was trembling again, and this time because of the storm of mixed feelings being generated by the other members of the medical team.
“Apologies are tendered,” Prilicla said hastily. “A short delay is necessary. This matter requires discussion.”
“For clinical reasons,” Khone replied, “the patient-healer hopes that the delay will be very short.”
It was Pathologist Murchison who spoke first. It said, “Your other-species experience is limited to an Earth-human DBDG and a Hudlar FROB, both involving simple, external surgery to a limb. Neither of them or, for that matter, your own DCNF classification, bears any resemblance to a Gogleskan FOKT. After that Hudlar limb-for-a-limb business, I’m surprised you want to take the responsibility.”
“If this goes wrong,” Naydrad joined in, its fur twitching with concern, “if the patient or newborn terminate, I don’t know what piece of medical melodrama you will pull in atonement. Better keep out of this.”
“I don’t know why,” Danalta said, in a tone that suggested that its feelings were hurt, “it prefers an ungainly, stiff-boned life-form like Cha Thrat to me.”
“The reason,” Khone said, making them realize that they had forgotten to switch off the probe’s communicator, “is degrading and probably insulting to the being concerned, but it should be mentioned in case the Sommaradvan finds it necessary to withdraw its offer.”
Khone went on. “There are physical, psychological, and perhaps ridiculous reasons why this being might closely approach, but not touch except with long-handled instruments, the patient.”
There were few visual similarities between the FOKT and DCNF classifications, Khone explained, except in the eyes of very young Gogleskans who tried to make models of their parents. But the mass of hair covering the ovoid body, the four short, splayed-out legs, the digital clusters, and the four long, cranial stings, were beyond their sculptoring skill. Instead they produced lumpy, conical shapes made from mud and grass, into which they stuck twigs that were not always straight or of uniform thickness. The results, on a much smaller scale, had a distinct resemblance to the body configuration of a Sommaradvan.
These crudely fashioned models were fabricated during the years preceding the change from childhood to maturity, when the young adult’s stings became a threat to its parent’s life, and they were kept and treasured by both parent and offspring as reminders of the only times in their lives when they could feel in safety the warmth and closeness of extended contact with another of their kind.
It was a memory that, in their later and incredibly lonely adult lives, helped keep them sane.
Murchison was the first to react after Khone finished speaking. The Pathologist looked at Cha Thrat and said incredulously, “I think it is telling us that you look like an oversized Gogleskan equivalent of an Earth teddy bear!”
Wainright gave a nervous laugh, and the others did not react. Probably they were as ignorant about teddy bears as Cha Thrat was. However, if the creature resembled her in many ways, it could not be entirely unbeautiful.
“The Sommaradvan is willing to assist,” Cha Thrat said, “and offense has not been taken.”
“And neither,” Prilicla said, turning its eyes toward her, “will responsibility be taken.”
The musical trills and clickings that were the Cinrusskin’s native speech changed in pitch, and for the first time in Cha Thrat’s experience the little empath’s translated words carried the firmness and authority of a ruler as it went on. “Unless the Sommaradvan can give an unqualified assurance that there is no possibility of a recurrence of the Hudlar amputation, the Sommaradvan will not be allowed to assist.
“The healer-maintenance technician is being used for one reason only,” it continued, “because the close proximity of the more experienced healers is contraindicated for this patient. It will consider itself simply as an organic probe whose mind, sensors, and digits are under the direction of the Senior Physician, who accepts sole responsibility for treatment and subsequent fate of the patient. Is this clearly understood?”
The idea of sharing or, in this instance, completely relegating responsibility for her actions to another person was repugnant to a warrior-surgeon, even though she could understand the reasons for it. But stronger than her feeling of shame was the sudden, warm upsurge of gratitude and pride at once again being called to work as a healer.
“It is understood,” she said.
Silently the empath indicated that it was changing from the probe frequency, so as not to be verbally hampered by having to use the listening Gogleskan’s impersonal mode of speech.
“Thank you, Cha Thrat,” it said quickly. “Use my Cinrusskin instruments, they are best suited to your upper digits and I would feel more comfortable directing you in their use. Fit the protective devices before trying to do anything else; you could not help the patient if you were to be paralyzed by its stings. When you are with Khone, make no sudden movements that might frighten it without first explaining the reason for them. I shall be monitoring friend Khone’s emotional radiation from here, and will warn you if any action causes a sudden increase of fear. But you are well aware of the situation, Cha Thrat. Please hurry.”
Naydrad had her carrier pack already filled and waiting. She added the replacement power cell for Khone’s scanner and began climbing from the top of the litter on to the hospital roof.
“Good luck,” Murchison said. Naydrad ruffled its fur and the others made untranslatable noises.
The roof sagged alarmingly under Cha Thrat’s weight, and one of her forefeet went right through the flimsy structure, but it was a much quicker route than crawling through a maze of low-ceilinged corridors. She dropped into the uncovered passageway leading to Khone’s room, crouched awkwardly onto two knees and three of her medial limbs, and, with Prilicla warning the patient of her arrival, moved only her head and shoulders through the entrance. For the first time she was able to study a Gogleskan FOKT at close quarters.
“The intention,” Cha Thrat said carefully, “is not to touch the patient directly.”
“Gratitude is expressed,” Khone replied in a voice that was barely audible above the sound of the distorters.
The mass of unruly hair and spikes that covered the erect, ovoid body were less irregular in color and position than the probe pictures had suggested. The body hair had mobility, although not to the extent as that possessed by the Kelgians, and lying motionless amid the multicolored cranial fur were a number of long, pale tendrils that were used only during a joining to link the member minds of the group. Four small, vertical orifices, two for breathing and speaking and two for food ingestion, encircled its waist.
The spikes covering the body were highly flexible, grouped together into digital clusters, and were capable of fine manipulation, and the lower body was encircled by a thick apron of muscle, under which the four short legs could be withdrawn when the being wished to rest.
Now it lay on its side, a position from which even a fully fit and active Gogleskan would have difficulty in recovering.
Quietly Cha Thrat said, “Instruct the probe to bring the scanner here. When the power cell has been replaced, return it to within easy reach of the patient, then move the machine aside.”
To Khone she went on. “Unlike the visiting healers, the patient has been unaware of its own condition and an immediate self-examination is requested. Since the patient is also a healer with extensive kno
wledge of its own life processes, any comments or suggestions it cares to make would be helped to the off-planet colleagues.”
Prilicla’s voice came from her earpiece but not the probe’s speaker, which meant that the empath wanted to talk to her alone. It said, “That was well spoken, Cha Thrat. No patient, no matter how ill or injured, wants to feel completely useless and dependent. Otherwise well-intentioned healers sometimes forget that.”
That was one of the first lessons she had learned at the medical school on Sommaradva. Another, which had obviously been learned by Prilicla, was that junior medics facing a new and difficult job benefited from encouragement.”
“The patient,” Khone said suddenly, “is unable to guide the scanner.”
There was nothing in the Cinrusskin’s instrument pack long enough to reach Khone from Cha Thrat’s present position. Impersonally she asked, “Is it permitted to use the Gogleskan instruments?”
“Of course,” Khone said.
On the side table there was a set of long, expanding tongs, made from highly polished wood and with hinges of a soft, reddish metal, used for bringing instruments or dressings to bear on the otherwise untouchable Gogleskan patients. Lying beside them was a thin, conical object that had been fashioned crudely from dried clay, with short twigs and straw stuck all over it. She had mistaken it at first for a piece of decorative or aromatic vegetation. Now that she knew what it was, Cha Thrat thought that its resemblance to the aesthetically pleasing Sommaradvan body shape was close only in the eyes of a very sick Gogleskan.
Awkwardly at first, she used the tongs to lift the scanner from the limp grasp of Khone’s digits and moved it over the abdominal area. While the patient was concentrating on the screen, she edged further into the room and closer to the patient. The unnatural position of her bent forelegs and spine, and the fact that virtually her entire body weight was being supported on medial limbs normally used only for manipulation, was threatening to send the associated muscles into spasm. To ease them she rocked very slowly from side to side, moving a little closer each time.
“The Sommaradvan healer is larger than was expected,” Khone said suddenly, looking up from the scanner. It did not take Prilicla to tell her that the Gogleskan was very frightened.
Cha Thrat held herself motionless for a moment, then said, “The Sommaradvan healer, despite its size, will no more harm the patient than the sculptured likeness lying on the floor. The patient must surely know this.”
“The patient knows this,” Khone agreed, with a distinct trace of anger in its voice. “But has the Sommaradvan healer ever suffered nightmares, in which it is haunted, and hunted, by dark and fearful creatures of the undermind intent on its destruction? And instead of fleeing in unreasoning fear, has it ever tried to stop in the midst of such a nightmare, and think through or around its terror, and turned to face these dreadful phantasms, and tried to look upon them as friends?”
Ashamed, Cha Thrat said, “Apologies are tendered, and admiration for the patient-healer who is trying to do, who is doing, that which the stupid and insensitive Sommaradvan healer would find impossible.”
Prilicla’s voice sounded in her earpiece. “You have irritated friend Khone, Cha Thrat, but its fear has receded a little.”
She took the opportunity of moving closer and said, “It is realized that the patient-healer’s intentions toward the Sommaradvan are friendly, and any harm that might befall it would be the result of a purely instinctive reaction or accident. Both eventualities can be avoided by rendering the stings harmless …”
Khone’s emotional reaction to that suggestion had both Prilicla and Cha Thrat badly worried, but time was running out for this patient and, if anything was going to be done for it, there was no real alternative to capping those stings. The little Gogleskan knew that as well as they did. It was being asked to surrender its only remaining weapon.
Cha Thrat dared not move a muscle other than her larynx, and that one was being seriously overworked as she tried to convince Khone’s unconscious as well as its already half-convinced conscious mind that, in a truly civilized society, weapons were unnecessary. She told it that she, too, was a female, although she had yet to produce an offspring. She spoke of her most personal feelings, many of them petty rather than praiseworthy, about her past life and career on Sommaradva and in Sector General, and of the things she had done wrong in both places.
The team members waiting impatiently by the litter must be wondering if she had contracted a ruler’s disease and had lost contact with the reality of the situation, but there was no time to stop and explain. Somehow she had to get through to the Gogleskan’s dark undermind and convince it that psychologically she was leaving herself as open and defenseless by what she was telling it as Khone was by relinquishing its only natural weapons.
She could hear Naydrad’s voice, which was being picked up by the Cinrusskin’s headset, demanding to know whether Khone was a psychiatrist as well as a healer, and if so, the stupid Sommaradvan had picked the wrong time to lie on its couch! Prilicla did not speak and she went on talking unhurriedly to the patient whose voice, like the rest of it, seemed to be paralyzed by fear.
Suddenly there was a response.
“The Sommaradvan has problems,” Khone said. “But if intelligent beings did not occasionally do stupid things, there would be no progress at all.”
Cha Thrat was unsure whether the Gogleskan’s words represented some deep, philosophical truth or were merely the product of a mind clouded by pain and confusion. She said, “The problems of the healer-patient are much more urgent.”
“There is agreement,” Khone said. “Very well, the stings may be covered. But the patient must be touched only by the machine.”
Cha Thrat sighed. It had been too much to hope that a few highly personal revelations would demolish the conditioning of millennia. Without moving any closer, she held the scanner in position with the long tongs and used the rear medial limb to open her pack so that the probe’s manipulators, which were being guided with great precision by Naydrad, could extract the sting covers.
Those covers had been designed to contain the needle-pointed stings and absorb their venom. Once in position, they released an adhesive that would ensure that they remained so until Khone reached Sector General. This property of the covers had not been mentioned to the patient. But with the distorters making it impossible for any call for joining to be heard by the other townspeople and its stings rendered impotent, the Gogleskan would be unable to avoid direct physical contact with one of the frightful off-worlders.
Considering the rapidly worsening clinical picture, the sooner that happened the better.
But Khone was not stupid and probably it had already realized what was to happen, which would explain its growing agitation as two, then three of the four sting covers were placed in position. Now it was moving its head weakly from side to side, deliberately avoiding the last cover. Quickly Cha Thrat tried to give it something else to think about.
“As can be clearly observed in the scanner and bio-sensor displays,” she said impersonally, “the fetus is being presented laterally to the birth canal and is immobilized in this position. It has exerted pressure on important blood vessels and nerve connections to the parent’s mid- and lower body, which has resulted in loss of muscle function and sensation and, unless relieved, will lead to necrosis in the areas concerned. The umbilical is also being increasingly compressed as the involuntary muscles continue trying to expel the fetus. The fetal heartbeat is weak, rapid, and irregular, and the vital signs of the parent are not good, either. Has the patient-healer any suggestion or comments on this case?”
Khone did not reply.
Only Prilicla would know how much Cha Thrat’s coldly impersonal tone belied her true feelings toward the incredibly brave little creature who lay like a tumbled haystack so close to her, but still too far away in the non material distances of the mind for her to be able to help it. Yet they were alike in so many ways, she thought. Both
had taken risks that no other members of their species were willing to take—she had treated an off-world life-form she had never seen before, and Khone had volunteered itself for treatment by off-worlders. But of the two, Khone was the braver and its risks the greater.
“Is this condition rare or common among gravid females,” she asked quietly, “and what is the normal procedure in such cases?”
The other’s voice was so weak that the reply was barely audible as it said, “The condition is not rare. Normal procedure in such cases is to administer massive doses of medication that enables the patient and fetus to terminate with minimum discomfort.”
Cha Thrat could think of nothing to say or do.
In the stillness of Khone’s room she became increasingly aware of the external noises: the constant whistling and hissing of the distorters; and coming to her through the empath’s communicator, the voice of Naydrad complaining about the difficulty of capping the stings of a patient who would not cooperate; and more quietly, Murchison, Danalta, and Prilicla itself as they suggested and quickly discarded a number of wildly differing procedures.
“The medical team’s voices are unclear,” Cha Thrat said anxiously. “Has anything been decided? What are the immediate instructions?”
Suddenly the voices became loud and very clear indeed, because they were coming from the probe’s speaker as well as her own earpiece. Naydrad, its attention concentrated on the probe’s remote-controlled manipulators as it tried to fit the last sting cover, must have decided that she wanted more volume and reacted to her statement without thinking.
The conversation was completely unguarded.
Prilicla was speaking, quietly and reassuringly, and clearly unaware that its words were reaching Khone as well as herself, Cha Thrat realized. The intense and conflicting emotional radiation emanating from the other team members grouped so closely around it was keeping the empath from detecting her own sudden burst of surprise and fear.
“Cha Thrat,” it said, “there has been some argument, which has since been resolved in your favor, regarding who should perform the operation. Friend Khone’s need is urgent, its condition has deteriorated to the stage where the risk of moving it out for surgery is unacceptable, and your only option is to—”
