Mind Changer sg-12

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Mind Changer sg-12 Page 18

by James White


  Apologetically, he went on, “I should have told you, I suppose. But I’m on leave and, well, nobody needed to know.” He smiled. “If it helps you feel any better about it, I’m an other-species psychologist.”

  “An other-species…?” she began, then laughed quietly. “I think that makes me feel worse! But it explains your concern for Kledenth. Are you diagnosing a condition Sennelt missed purely from behavioral observation?”

  “Not entirely? he replied, still telling the truth but not all of it. “In my job I’ve met, talked with, and come to know many Kelgians, one in particular very well, and I know how they feel and think. Kledenth may not yet be aware that there is anything wrong with it, but there is.

  Joan’s anger and embarrassment had been replaced by interest now. She said, “If I understand you correctly, the compression of its body when the Tralthan fell on it, and the subsequent neardrowning, have caused a delayed-action but potentially severe emotional trauma. Are you trying to avoid or relieve this condition by tinkering with its mind?”

  O’Mara shook his head. “Unfortunately? he said very seriously, “Kledenth’s condition is purely physical. If left untreated the emotional problems will surely follow.”

  “Then I don’t understand you? said Joan. “Explain it to me.

  He didn’t want to explain, because that would lead to telling her all about the mind-tape trials and virtually everything else about himself, but neither did he want to lie to her. He was saved from having to make the decision by Kledenth turning suddenly to rejoin the conversation.

  “I thought I heard talking about me? it said. “Is it more interesting and important than the things these others are saying?”

  “Probably not as interesting? O’Mara replied, slipping automatically into direct, Kelgian speech mode, “but certainly more important. Have you retold your adventure often enough, and heard enough praise and sympathy from your friends, to give us your undivided attention?”

  Kledenth’s fur rose into irritated spikes, but Joan spoke before it could reply. Plainly she was happier with the more tactful and gentle approach.

  “We were worried? she said, “in case you are not as well as Dr. Sennelt thinks you are. We think there may be aftereffects. To reassure us, the lieutenant wishes to ask you a few questions?”

  “More than a few’ said O’Mara.

  A new pattern of ripples disturbed Kledenth’s fur. It turned its attention from Joan and brought its small, cone-shaped head to within a few inches of O’Mara’s face and said, “Then ask them?

  “Right? said O’Mara. “Your medial body and legs were pressed between the drowning Tralthan and the deck for a period of fourplus minutes before you were freed. Are you aware of any discomfort in these limbs, or from the muscles that operate them, or from the tegument overlaying those areas to which the fur is attached? Have you noticed any impairment of movement or lack of sensation in these limbs? Any feelings of surface pain, or tingling or any other unusual sensations from other parts of the body not directly affected by the temporary constriction? I realize that the recent nature of the incident and the associated emotional trauma means that there will be a psychological component in your relating of the symptoms. I shall make allowances for any emotional coloration, so be as objective or subjective as you wish. Speak.”

  Joan was frowning again. “O’Mara, aren’t you being a little insensitive…?” she began, but Kledenth cut her off.

  “I am aware of many aches and pains” it said. “They may be subjective but from inside they feel as objective as hell. The doctor didn’t ask as many questions as this. What’s wrong? You’re beginning to frighten me.

  He could see that growing fear, or rather the memories and clinical experience of the top Kelgian surgeon in his mind enabled him to see and read it from the tight, uneven pattern of ripples that were agitating Kledenth’s fur.

  “Fear” he said, “is a temporary condition which disappears when the cause and uncertainty associated with it is understood and removed. Your condition may or may not be temporary, that is what I’m trying to establish. What exactly did Sennelt say and, more important, do to you?”

  “It said a lot,” the Kelgian replied, “mostly reassuring things and advice about taking it easy for a few days and not worrying. It went over me with one of those portable scanner things, then suspended me in null-G while it used a hot-air fan to dry my fur. It made me walk around sickbay and watched until I told it I felt hungry, then it brought me here. What else did you expect it to do?”

  O’Mara paused for a moment, thinking about the limited facilities and, comparatively, nonspecialized and even more limited experience of a ship’s medic who was expected to know only a very little about everything. Sennelt was a good enough doctor, but Kreskhallar wasn’t Sector General.

  “In the circumstances.” O’Mara replied, “nothing else. Before or during the drying of your fur did Sennelt spray it with any surface medication, conditioner, or similar substance?”

  “No” said Kledenth. “I wouldn’t allow it. My fur needs no such enhancements.”

  “I can see that.” said O’Mara. “It is remarkably beautiful and expressive fur. But when you arrived with Sennelt and during the initial conversation with your friends, I noticed a slowing in its overall mobility compared to my earlier observations of you. The fur’s reduced response time to vocal and emotional stimuli is minor and could be due simply to delayed shock or associated psychological factors stemming from your accident, but I’m not entirely satisfied with Sennelt’s prognosis and I intend—”

  “You think there’s something wrong with my fur!” Kledenth broke in, its fur standing out in spikes of fear and anger. “But, but what do you know, you’re only a bloody policeman! And if you happen to be right, what can you do about it? O’Mara, you shouldn’t frighten me with talk like this.”

  Everyone else at the table had stopped talking to watch, and the fur on the other Kelgian diners was twitching in sympathy with Kledenth’s distress. Even Joan, who was unable to read fur, had sensed Kledenth’s feelings and was staring furiously at him. O’Mara raised a hand quickly before she could speak, knowing that she would consider the gesture ill-mannered, but he needed a moment to regain control. For the past few minutes his mind partner had almost taken over.

  He knew that the feeling was purely subjective because the mind tape impressed only the donor’s memories. But those memories had included personal experience with dysfunctional fur that it would not have wanted any other member of its species to share. But now it was time to stop thinking and talking like a Kelgian and to say some kindly, reassuring Earth-human words to the badly frightened Kledenth, even though he knew that the reassurance he would give would be less than honest.

  “Right now I don’t know what I can do for you.” said O’Mara, “but I promise to do something. In a short time Joan and I will be talking to the captain, who considers that it owes us a favor. I shall ask it for a long consultation with Dr. Sennelt, during which I shall ask for answers to the questions that are troubling us both. It is possible that my worries are without foundation and the doctor will be able to set my mind at rest when, naturally, I shall pass the good news to you without delay. But until then try not to worry because there may not be anything to worry about ~

  Kledenth said a word that their translators had not been programmed to handle and its fur began to settle into normal levels of mobility. But before it could go on, the other Kelgians at the table began asking it more questions about what might be wrong and it was suddenly too busy to talk to him. Joan was still looking unfriendly rather than angry. She didn’t speak to him either until they were in the corridor on the way to their appointment with the captain. It was probably subjective, he thought, but it felt as if the airconditioning temperature had been reduced by quite a few degrees.

  She said, “You were unnecessarily rough on Kledenth, especially for someone who might not know what he’s talking about. Earlier you told me that you weren’t a
medic. But you weren’t talking first aid back there. Is there something you’re keeping to yourself, and are you going to tell me about it?”

  “No” said O’Mara.

  “Then all I can say” she said coldly, “is that if you were a doctor, or maybe a medical student who couldn’t pass the finals, then they certainly failed you on your bedside manner?

  CHAPTER 23

  The invitation to visit Kreskhallar’s control deck was a courtesy rarely extended to mere passengers, because it was there that the shipboard god, who was also known to lesser mortals as Captain Grulya-Mar, dwelt and had its august being. For a great, hairy, and bearlike Orligian, it was gracious, unsparing in its compliments and thanks, pompous and condescending. The condescension was probably due to its thinking that this was their first time to see a starship’s control deck, but it didn’t stop talking long enough for O’Mara to tell it that it was only half right.

  He could see that Joan was tremendously pleased and impressed and was paying rapt attention to everything Grulya-Mar said or showed them, but he wasn’t sure that he could respect a captain who omitted to introduce its mixed-species fellow officers by name while acting as if they were part of the ship’s equipment he was pointing out. As the brief tour neared its end, the other’s gracious manner became increasingly diluted with impatience.

  “I hope you have enjoyed this visit to my control center? it said, “but now there are operational matters I must attend to. Once again, my sincere and personal thanks, and those of my tour operator, for your quick thinking and assessment of the situation on the recreation deck, Lieutenant, and to both of you for your prompt and concerted action in what followed. You may well have saved two lives, Sennelt tells me, and you have certainly preserved the unblemished safety record of my ship.”

  Joan, looking pleased and embarrassed, gave a final look around the control deck and said, “We were pleased to help. Thank you, Captain, for your time and courtesy.”

  “It was a pleasure? said Grulya-Mar, “but as I’ve already said, the thanks are due entirely to you two, and if there is any favor, anything at all within my power, that I or any of my officers can do for you, you have only to ask.”

  Joan began turning away, but stopped when she saw that O’Mara had remained still and facing the captain. He said, “Sir, there is something I would like you to do, and it isn’t a small, shipboard favor.”

  The captain hesitated. There was too much facial hair for him to read its expression but its eyes had a wary look as it said, “What exactly do you want me to do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “For myself, nothing? O’Mara replied. “The favor is for passenger Kledenth. I strongly suspect that its injuries require urgent specialist attention in a same-species hospital. I respectfully request that Kreskhallar divert to Kelgia without delay.”

  “Impossible!” Grulya-Mar burst out. “Our next scheduled world is Melf, where our present Melfan passengers will be leaving us and new ones coming on board. My medical officer has examined Kledenth and reported it to be uninjured and in excellent health.”

  “It will not remain that way for long,” said O’Mara.

  “Your request is utterly preposterous? said the other angrily. “If you mention your suspicions to passenger Kledenth, you will only cause it unnecessary emotional distress. Sennelt is the expert in this field. Or have you medical qualifications that you haven’t mentioned to us?”

  O’Mara shook his head, then said carefully, “I have no formal medical training, but in my work I’ve come to know many Kelgians well…” Especially the one who is presently sharing my mind, he thought dryly, and knew that what he was about to say was the absolute truth. . and have picked up medical information of a kind that is not available to Dr. Sennelt.”

  “In your work where?” said the other sharply.

  “At Sector General,” said O’Mara.

  There was a moment’s silence. He was aware of the captain’s organic ship’s equipment turning away from their control consoles to look at him. Joan was staring at him, too, looking impressed but puzzled. There were very few sapient beings in the Galactic Federation who were unaware of Sector General and what it stood for, and even the angry bristling of the captain’s fur was beginning slowly to subside.

  “I see? said Grulya-Mar finally, returning to his pompous, condescending manner. “However, you yourself have admitted that you’ve no qualifications so that the medical information or hearsay that you have picked up, even in the galaxy’s most advanced multispecies hospital, is irrelevant. I will not alter my flight schedule, Lieutenant O’Mara, but I will compromise to this extent. Out of gratitude for the good work you did on the recreation deck, and to relieve the obvious if mistaken concern you feel for this Kelgian passenger, I shall instruct my medical officer to reexamine it in your presence in order to provide you with further reassurance. But only if you yourself can convince Kledenth of the necessity for the reexamination and to accompany you to sickbay.”

  It raised a large, hairy hand and added, “You have my permission to go.

  When they were back in the corridor leading to the passenger section, Joan said, “You’re a very reticent man, O’Mara. Why didn’t you tell me you were from Sector General? I’ve got a million questions I want to ask about that place, especially from somebody who knows the answers firsthand, and I’m sure the other passengers feel the same way.

  “Maybe that’s the reason? he said dryly. “But I’ll answer some of your questions while we’re finding Kledenth and bringing it back with us to sickbay. If you don’t mind, I need you there, too. But persuading it to submit to another examination won’t be easy.”

  “I don’t mind? she said. “In fact, I’m looking forward to having a ringside seat at this three-cornered medical battle, because neither Kledenth nor Sennelt will be pleased with you:’ She smiled suddenly and added, “But don’t worry about your powers of persuasion. A multi-species psychologist from Sector General should be able to talk anybody into doing anything.”

  It took nearly two hours of intense conversation to convince Kledenth to return to the sickbay, and then it did so only because O’Mara had made it afraid again. Where he was concerned its manner was completely hostile, with Joan it was neutral, and toward Sennelt its fur was reflecting a desperate pleading that the doctor would be able to prove beyond a shadow of O’Mara’s doubts that it was all right.

  As it spoke the Melfan’s voice was clinically calm but the pincers that were not engaged in moving the scanner over Kledenth’s lower body were clicking angrily.

  It said, “As you can see, if you are capable of reading this deepscan image, the earlier compression effects have cleared and there is no interruption of the blood supply between the hearts, lungs, brain, and the major ambulatory muscles serving the legs and forward manipulators. The areas of subdermal contusion affecting the local capillary and nerve networks that you and, since you talked to it, passenger Kledenth are worried about is minor bruising and transitory. There is no justification for thinking otherwise unless, for some obscure psychological reason, you are trying to justify yourself.”

  O’Mara took a firm hold on his temper, then reached forward to take an even tighter grip on the scanner, knowing that in a tugof-war between the Melfan’s pincers and his Earth-human hands there would be no contest.

  “May I borrow this for a moment? he said, making a verbal pretense at politeness. He ran the scanner slowly over the area of bruising while closely studying the visual display before going on. “The general contusions are disguising the fact that the blood flow in the capillary network that supplies the tiny, individual muscles that control each strand of fur has been reduced. No gross, traumatic damage is apparent, but the stagnant blood is not clearing fast enough and the micromusculature is being slowly starved of nutrients. The condition is so gradual that there are no marked symptoms, and it is quite understandable that a nonspecialist like yourself would miss them. But the condition is irreversible and, if it isn’t dealt
with urgently, complete necrosis of the muscles controlling the fur is at most a few days off. Doctor, will you look again at the…

  “No? said Sennelt firmly. “There is nothing new or dangerous to see that would cause me to influence the captain into altering course. And let me remind you, Lieutenant, you are needlessly worrying the patient.”

  “I am very worried? said Kledenth suddenly. “If I ask, would the captain change course for me?”

  “At least you’re admitting that it’s a patient? said O’Mara angrily, before Sennelt could reply, “which implies that you think there just might be something wrong with it.” He turned suddenly to Joan and went on, “Please, you have a look at this area and tell me what you think. I’ll focus the scanner for you so you can…

  He broke off as the doctor began clicking, loudly and continuously like an overloaded radiation counter. When it spoke its sarcasm was apparent even through their translators. “Does every passenger on this damned ship think it’s a medic? Well, given that we are not going to divert to Kelgia, what would you two would-be doctors consider an acceptable second form of treatment?”

  Joan, unknown to the Melfan doctor, was far from being a medical ignoramus. Her face was reddening with anger and embarrassment, but before she could protest, O’Mara shook his head warningly at her. In its present mood Sennelt was likely to be even more sarcastic about a newly qualified veterinary surgeon. He strove for calmness and clinical objectivity.

  “I would suggest massive bed rest with heavy sedation? he said, “in the hope that the reduced blood supply to the area will be enough to maintain the resting muscles. There should be roundthe-clock monitoring and, as the condition worsens to the point where both the patient and medical officer become aware of it, emotional support of a verbal nature will be helpful until…

  “I need some of your verbal support right now? said Kledenth. “Enough!” said the doctor. “Frankly, Lieutenant, your behavior in this matter is incredibly insensitive and completely irresponsible. In spite of what you’ve done for us earlier, I intend to report this to the Monitor Corps authorities at our next port of call. As for your suggested line of treatment, passenger Kledenth may take massive rest here or in its own cabin, or indulge in violent exercise on the recreation deck, as and when it chooses. There will be no medical monitor or massive sedation because in my”-it laid heavy stress on the word—”professional opinion they are totally unnecessary. As for emotional support, that it deserves. I strongly suggest that you talk to it while it rests here, for as long as it takes for you to negate the emotional trauma you have caused. And if passenger Kledenth tires of listening to you, which it may well do since this is your sleeping period, it has my permission to return to its cabin and subsequently resume normal passenger activities at any time no matter what you say to it.

 

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