Final Diagnosis sg-10

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Final Diagnosis sg-10 Page 29

by James White


  “The hospital will not be troubled with the virus creature again.”

  In his earpiece there was a long, hissing silence that was broken by a voice that was so quiet and distorted with emotion that it could have belonged to anyone.

  “So it intends to infect and populate the stars,” it said. “I don’t doubt that it means what it says, because we already know that it is impossible to lie with the mind. That could lead to the breakdown of the Federation, perhaps the end of free and unprotected otherspecies contact, perhaps of all intelligent life because of an uncontrollable, interspecies contagion sweeping the member worlds, if we don’t act at once. We’re sorry, Hewlitt, but that action must include isolating Lioren, Morredeth, the Telfi ship’s crew, yourself, and even your childhood pet from all future contact for the rest of your lives.”

  “No!” said Hewlitt angrily. “Why don’t you people listen to me, or believe me when you do listen? Padre, will you explain it to them, please?”

  While the voice from O’Mara’s office had been speaking, the Padre had closed the Telfi caskets and returned its attention to Hewlitt. He had the feeling that Lioren’s emotional distress had eased or was at least under control again.

  “I couldn’t explain it any better myself,” said the Padre. “Carry on, but be quick. Our covered litters and, dear me, an armed escort are arriving.”

  Hewlitt took a deep breath and chose words that were short and simple. He said, “O’Mara, all of you are wrong, twice. None of the virus creature’s hosts are infected, or contagious, nor have we been implanted with its seed or embryo. It doesn’t work like that. The creature is an intelligent, organized collection of viruses, a single and very selfish individual who will not willingly allow parts of itself to be detached and thereby reduce the capability and intelligence of the whole. My problems during and after puberty were caused by the fact that, while it could understand the need of a host to eliminate body wastes, the expulsion of healthy living material like seminal fluid was totally foreign to it because, at that time, it could not conceive of the possibility of any entity wanting to propagate its kind rather than surviving for itself alone. It still has difficulty accepting the idea of countless billions of us sacrificing ourselves so that our various species will survive.

  “On Etla, on Earth, and in the hospital,” he went on, “there was absolutely no risk of secondary infection. Perhaps in the future, if its plans work out, it may be able to divide itself, but that time is a very long way off and even then we would be in no danger from it. For now the virus can occupy only one entity at a time, and it does not leave its host with a disease but with a level of physical, lifelong health that is immediately obvious as a kind of organic artist’s signature to all of its former hosts.

  “It does this out of gratitude,” Hewlitt went on, “for the knowledge and experience provided by the host. It considers itself a tenant who is obliged to pay rent.”

  The litters, their canopies open and ready, were accompanied by two massive Hudlar medics and eight armed Monitor Corpsmen who were large by Earth-human standards. The men’s expressions showed a mixture of embarrassment and determination. Hewlitt spoke quickly.

  “Believe me,” he said, “neither the Federation nor its citizens have anything to fear from the virus creature. It is no longer interested in the extremely short-lived natives of any planet. Even though the project will take many of our lifetimes to complete, its ambition is to populate the stars one at a time and beginning with the Telfi’s parent sun, which, in astronomical terms, is growing old and sick. While there is always the chance that it will obliterate itself in the attempt, it considers the risk well worth taking. To inhabit a sun that can be inhabited and given intelligence, stability, and control of all its internal processes is the virus creature’s ultimate goal.

  “An intelligent star,” he ended, “would be the most long-lived entity there could ever be.”

  This time it was Diagnostician Conway, Prilicla, and Thornnastor who were doing most of the talking while the litter personnel and escort waited for them to decide what they were going to do. For several minutes it seemed that the Padre and himself had been forgotten as they debated the possibility of retracing Lonvelun’s travels before its arrival in Sector General with a view to finding the virus creature’s planet of origin and other, perhaps nonsapient members of its species who could be studied and, hopefully, helped to proliferate. If it was offered, the assistance of former virus-creature hosts would be invaluable. All necessary precautions would be taken and there would be many problems to overcome, but if they were successful they could foresee a distant future when the citizens of the Galactic Federation would carry only one virus and be otherwise completely disease-free. All that would be left for the medical profession would be the treatment of accident and surgical emergencies. It was the chief psychologist who had the last, impatient words.

  O’Mara said, “Doctors, enough. Your future hypothetical problems will not be solved in the next few minutes. Padre Lioren, Hewlitt, relax. We have decided that it is safe to allow Morredeth to land on Kelgia and the Telfi crew to return home with their new friend. The armed escort is dismissed but you two will board the litters and proceed with minimum delay, not to the isolation chamber in Pathology but to this office for an immediate and detailed debriefing…

  Hewlitt made a small, untranslatable sound which only the Padre heard. In a loud, reassuring whisper Lioren said, “Don’t distress yourself, friend. The major’s office has its own food dispenser, and if we aren’t allowed to eat then we won’t talk.”

  … and a Hudlar-guided litter will get you here sooner than traveling on foot,” O’Mara went on. “Is there anything else you need to tell me before then?”

  Hewlitt was not sure whether the words were the result of fatigue, malnutrition, or sheer relief. He laughed and said, “Only that I have a psychological problem. I seem to have become an exhypochondriac with absolutely nothing wrong with me who wants to stay in hospital. I don’t want to go back to minding Earth sheep.”

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