Mind Changer sg-12

by James White

  He was going to need it.

  CHAPTER 21

  O‘Mara released his grip on Kledenth and quickly bent double to get his hands under the Tralthan’s massive body. It was unconscious and unable to help him. In normal conditions it would have been impossible to lift it but, supported as it was by the water and with less than a quarter G acting on it, he should be able to roll the dead weight off his feet and the Kelgian’s trapped lower body.

  The Tralthan’s body had lost three-quarters of its weight, but it still possessed all of its inertia. He gripped it solidly at the roots of two of its four tentacles and strained upward until he felt as if his arms would tear off at the shoulders. Slowly it began to move and just as slowly kept on moving. Suddenly his feet were free and so was the trapped Kelgian. But he had used too much of his available oxygen. The turbulence had settled and the water was no longer clouded by bubbles, but large, throbbing patches of blackness were keeping him from seeing clearly and he felt as if the Tralthan beside them were sitting on his chest. He wrapped his arms around Kledenth’s middle again, felt for the deck surface with his feet. The stale air in his lungs burst out in an explosion of bubbles as he used the last of the strength in his leaden legs to jump straight up.

  He was startled at how soon they broke surface and, gasping desperately for air as he looked around, he immediately saw why. The captain had remotely opened the airtight doors at each side of the room. Presently they were under the surface and the pool water was gurgling through the openings into two large, adjoining storerooms. The surface was still puckered with tiny, steep-sided, lowgravity wavelets, but the level was dropping rapidly. Suddenly his feet were in contact with the deck and he was able to hold Kledenth’s head clear of the water.

  The upper body of one of the Tralthan swimmers was emerging slowly from the water. It was choking and gasping and obviously in great emotional distress as it slapped at the water with its tentacles in a desperate effort to find its life-mate, who was still under the surface, but he knew that it would be fine as soon as it cleared its air passages. High above him the Melfan and the Nidian passengers were holding on to fixed equipment near the entrance and Joan was doing the same about five meters distant. He was about to call to her when a Melfan wearing an antigravity harness and with a caduceus on its crew insignia appeared in the entrance and came swooping down toward them. Dr. Sennelt had arrived.

  “Doctor? he said urgently. “This is passenger Kledenth, Kelgian, non-aquatic, immersed and unconscious for two plus minutes with emptied lungs. Will you be careful to check for…”

  “Don’t worry, sir? said the medic as it cradled Kledenth’s limp body in its triple-jointed forward limbs. “I’ll take over from here. How about you, Lieutenant?”

  O’Mara shook his head. “I’m all right? he said impatiently. “But there could be internal trauma as a result of it being rolled on by a drowning Tralthan, who is still underwater, lying on its side and unconscious.”

  “That could be very serious? said Dr. Sennelt as it tapped buttons on its antigravity harness and the limp body of Kledenth and it began rising toward the entrance, “but there’s nothing much I can do right now without special equipment to lift it upright and out of the water. I’ll have a team with a Tralthan-sized antigravity pallet here in ten minutes and be back myself to supervise?

  “That could be too late…” O’Mara broke in.

  “Meanwhile? Sennelt called back as it rose to the entrance, “I’m taking Kledenth to sickbay.”

  O’Mara swore, not quite under his breath, looked at Joan, who was still clinging to the furniture above him, and said urgently, “Joan, would you climb down here, carefully but quickly please? I need your help.” He swung around to the other Tralthan, who was still gasping and spluttering but no longer seemed distressed, and pointed at its unconscious life-mate, whose flank and one side of its head were coming into view above the subsiding water level.

  “You’ll be all right in a few minutes? he said quickly, “but right now I need you to help lift your life-mate onto its feet and hold it there. You know how important that is for your particular lifeform. Move around to this side. Slide your forward tentacles under it, just here and here. Now lift! That’s it. But hold it steady, it’s wobbling all over the place.”

  With the two storerooms filled and nowhere else for it to go, the water level was no longer dropping. Only the Tralthan’s six stubby legs and underside were submerged now. O’Mara took a deep breath, hunkered down underwater, and, one by one, tried to pull the legs laterally outward as far as they would go in an attempt to give the body more vertical stability. It was the most intensive period of hard work that he had ever done and, he knew, if he hadn’t already been underwater he would have been sweating like a pig. When it was over and he surfaced gasping, Joan was beside him.

  “How can I help?” she said calmly.

  “With artificial respiration…” O’Mara began, but had to stop for a moment to catch his breath. Then he pointed to one of the Tralthan’s gills before going on quickly, “With their general physical structure and breathing orifices like those-they have four of them-you can understand that they can’t give each other mouthto-mouth resuscitation. But we can. It’s done by first filling our lungs, pressing our lips tightly around the gill opening, and blowing the air in hard. Wait for a count of three, then suck to remove some of the liquid content of the lung, spit out, and repeat the process as regularly and as quickly as you can. I’ll show you.”

  He demonstrated briefly then looked at her. “You got that?”

  Joan made a face and said, “Yes, but I’m not sure I want it. But oh, well, I did offer.”

  Hesitating at first but soon getting into the rhythm, she joined O’Mara in blowing hard, sucking, and spitting out. Only once did she stop to look at him and wipe her lips with the back of her hand.

  “Yuk? she said with feeling. “That stuff smells and tastes awful! Are you sure I’m blowing and sucking at the right body orifice?”

  “Trust me? said O’Mara.

  They continued working for perhaps a minute while the other Tralthan silently held its life-mate upright. It had stopped asking them if they knew what they were doing. He became aware that their patient’s legs were beginning to stiffen and its four tentacles, which had been hanging limply at it sides, were beginning to twitch.

  “Quickly, back ofP.” he said urgently. “It’s coming to.”

  Suddenly the unconscious Tralthan came alive again, stamping its feet and thrashing around with its tentacles while water, bubbles, and mucus jetted from its gills, until the comforting words and encircling tentacles of its life-mate made it settle down. Joan laughed quietly.

  “I think we did it,” said O’Mara.

  “Yes,” said Joan, raising a fist in triumph as she looked at him. “And would you believe that was my first time for giving mouth-tomouth?”

  Before he could reply, Dr. Sennelt, followed by two other crew members guiding a wide antigravity pallet, dropped down beside them.

  “And that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Earth-humans do it to a Tralthan? said Sennelt, clicking a pincer in appreciation. “Very nice work, people. But now we have to move you into the corridor. The Tralthans first, one at a time, then you two can share the pallet for the final trip. The captain is about to…

  “This is the captain? broke in a voice on the PA. “I am pleased to tell you that the artificial-gravity system on the recreation deck is again functional and will be gradually restored to normal pull within the next fifteen minutes. Passengers are requested to stay clear of the area for three hours to enable us to mop up and replace damaged equipment. No injuries have been reported and we are returning to hyperspace as I speak. Once again, my apologies for any inconvenience caused. That is all.”

  While the first Tralthan was being loaded onto the antigravity pallet and moved up to the corridor, Joan stood waist deep in the water looking up at him intently without speaking. Usually she had plenty to say, a
nd her expression and uncharacteristic silence were disconcerting. He felt an awkward question coming on that he would rather not answer.

  “That Tralthan resuscitation technique saved its life? she said. “You saved its life. Where did you learn to do that?”

  “I meet lots of different species on space establishments,” he replied, telling the truth if not all of it, “and one picks up things. It was simply a bit of other-species first aid. But you did well, really well. It was an unpleasant thing to have to do, but you did it like a professional. You said this was a trip to celebrate your graduation. Was it from medical school?”

  “No? said Joan. She looked uncomfortable for a moment, then added, “All right, yes. Technically, that is. I’ve just qualified as a vet.”

  “I see? said O’Mara very seriously. “Then you were already accustomed to treating other species, even though the life-forms concerned are not usually sapient. And remember, it was we, not me, who saved its life.”

  Before she could reply, the pallet returned from taking the second Tralthan to the corridor and the Orligian crew member guiding it growled politely at them to climb aboard. Their silence continued after they disembarked in the corridor and the transparent door of the recreation deck hissed shut behind them.

  Gradually the walls of the corridor moved into the vertical again and the floor was down again, as was that of the recreation deck. Through the transparent door they watched the water roll from the opposite wall and pour out of the two storage compartments to slosh about the floor until it found its way back into the swimming pool. Apart from the items of furniture that had been demolished by the slowly falling Tralthans and a few puddles here and there, the place had returned to normal. Suddenly a nearby public-address speaker cleared it throat.

  “This is the captain speaking? it said. “Would the Earthhuman passenger Kelleher and Monitor Corps Lieutenant O’Mara oblige me by coming to the control deck at hour twenty-one hundred this evening. Thank you.”

  “O’Mara? said Joan, smiling, “the captain is going to thank us officially, and maybe even give you a medal. And so it should.”

  She looked at him with sudden concern and went on, “But I’m not sure about the medal. There was a while back there when you seemed to be giving the captain orders. Senior ship’s officers can be a bit stuffy about insubordination, even from a passenger. Still, maybe it will just say nice, pompous things to you and allow you to travel free on this trip.”

  “As a Corps officer in the space service? he said, “I travel free anyway. The thanks or medals aren’t important right now. It’s Kledenth that I’m worried about. Having a Tralthan land on it, even a quarter-weight one, could cause serious injury…”

  He broke off as Dr. Sennelt appeared suddenly behind them. It said, “Passenger Kledenth is doing fine, sir. We’ve pumped out its lungs, are in the process of drying out its fur, and have given it a head-to-tail internal scan with optimum results. As a precaution we have placed it on continuous monitor observation, so it is unable to receive visitors at present. But please believe me, you have nothing to worry about. The Tralthan you resuscitated also said that it is fine and insisted that it requires no treatment other than the ministrations of its new life-mate. It elected to return to their cabin, presumably to rest. But it’s you two who concern me now. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Have you any respiratory difficulties? Or delayed shock? Would anyone want to visit sickbay for a checkup?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Among Earth-humans? said the doctor, “I’m told that particular form of head gesture indicates a negative response. Good. The captain will speak to you after dinner, but before I leave you I would like to express my own personal thanks for what you’ve done. A passenger terminating during a pleasure cruise, whether through age, injury, or a stupid accident as this could have been, is a bad thing. It is bad in itself and, it shames me even to mention this, very bad for the future prospects of the small, independent, and, well, economically run spaceline to which Kreskhallar belongs. So we have to thank you for more than you perhaps realize. But now I have a long accident report to write.”

  “Before you go, Doctor? said O’Mara quickly, “I’m still worried about Kledenth. I’d be grateful if you could let me know of any change in its condition, however small.”

  As Sennelt turned to go it said, “I would be pleased to do that for you, sir.”

  A few minutes after it left them the door of the recreation deck hissed open to allow four mixed-species cleaning and repair personnel with their robots to go inside. O’Mara had never derived much pleasure from watching other people work and, it seemed, neither had Joan because she was looking only at him. Before she could say anything, he pretended to shiver.

  “The corridor air-conditioning is a bit low,” he said, smiling. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and dress for dinner.”

  CHAPTER 22

  A few of the Kelgians at their table noticed the absence of Kledenth and talked about it and the artificial-gravity failure, but only among themselves. Plainly the news of the recreation-deck incident was not yet common knowledge, and O’Mara didn’t want to talk about it, either. In fact, except for the occasional polite monosyllable, he was refusing to talk about anything. Joan was beginning to look annoyed with him. Then suddenly she stared over his shoulders and smiled.

  “If you’re still worrying about Kledenth? she said, “you can stop right now.”

  He twisted around in his chair to see Dr. Sennelt and Kledenth picking their way between the tables toward them. The Kelgian undulated forward quickly and curled its body into its seat. It was the doctor who spoke first.

  “You wanted me to tell you how my casualty was progressing, Lieutenant,” it said, “so I decided to show you instead. Kledenth is physically mobile and says that it is feeling well, but hungry. Clinically these are very good signs. It has absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  It clicked a pincer in farewell and turned away.

  Joan was still smiling, but not O’Mara. He was relieved, but at the same time he was inclined to distrust a well-meaning but overoptimistic ship’s doctor who could have only limited physiological knowledge and experience where an other-species patient was concerned. Similar thoughts must have been going through Joan’s mind.

  “It’s great to have you back? she said. “But how are you really feeling?”

  “How d’you think I’m feeling?” Kledenth replied in its ungracious Kelgian fashion. “I was sat on by a Tralthan, nearly drowned, my fur got wet all over and stuck to me for hours. It was a horrible sensation, like I’d suddenly lost the ability to communicate feelings. I’m feeling terrible, but all right. Kelgians don’t have much bone structure, except in the head, so we’re inclined to squish and bounce back instead of breaking up. Your concern is appreciated.”

  O’Mara still wasn’t satisfied. He said, “Are you sure there are no symptoms of—”

  “Lieutenant? Kledenth broke in. “You’re beginning to sound like Dr. Sennelt, who told me that you probably saved my life. For that favor I feel grateful, more grateful than I can say in simple, unsupported words to a being who is unable to read my fur. But this great favor I shall totally discount if you cause me to die of starvation. I need to eat, O’Mara, not talk.”

  Both Earth-humans laughed and O’Mara found conversation easier as they continued the meal. Even Kledenth was talking as well as eating, but mostly to its same-species friends farther up the table. But his attention kept drifting from Joan to the animated fur of the Kelgian beside him. He thought she hadn’t noticed until she leaned suddenly toward him.

  “O’Mara? she said quietly, “what the hell is bothering you?”

  He forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to himself and said, “You mean, apart from you?”

  She shook her head impatiently. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I don’t bother you, at least not very much. You’ve hardly taken your eyes off Kledenth since it arrived. Why?”

  He hes
itated and tried to choose words which would sound neither egocentric nor too critical of the ship doctor’s ability, which, he felt sure, would in ordinary circumstances have been adequate. O’Mara was a layman, after all, and not supposed to know anything about the subject. But he did know a lot about Kelgian physiology, every bit as much as his mind partner and top medical specialist knew, and he would be in serious trouble if he told anyone else how he knew it, because the Marrasarah mind tape should have been erased. The trouble was that when a Kelgian was apparently sharing his mind, it was very difficult to lie.

  “Sennelt is a good enough doctor,” he said. “What worries me is that it might not know enough about Kelgian anatomy.”

  “And you do?”

  “Yes? he said.

  She frowned at him for a moment, then said seriously, “Apart from a few hints about space construction work, for which you certainly have the muscles, you’ve been reticent about what exactly it is that you do. Are you a medic, or were you once a medic, but for some reason want to hide that fact?”

  He shook his head. “I have no formal medical qualifications.”

  “But you think you know enough about other-species first aid? she went on, “to second-guess the ship’s medical officer? What the hell do you do, exactly?”

  O’Mara wished again that there weren’t a truth-telling Kelgian influencing so much of his mind.

  “I’m a psychologist,” he said.

  She sat back suddenly in her chair, her face reddening with anger and embarrassment. After a moment she said, “And in the way of psychologists, you have been calmly and clinically observing my behavior while I was trying to, to make a fool of myself over you?”

  O’Mara shook his head and held her eyes for a long moment, then said quietly, “I was observing myself, not very calmly nor dinically, trying not to make a fool of myself over you.

  She continued to stare at him without speaking, but her angry color was slowly returning to normal.