STAR SURGEON

by

ALAN E. NOURSE

[Transcriber's note: Extensive research did not uncover any evidencethat the copyright on this publication was renewed. ]

DAVID McKAY COMPANY, INC. 

NEW YORK

COPYRIGHT © 1959, 1960 BY ALAN E. NOURSE

_All rights reserved_

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOG CARD NO. 60-7199

Manufactured in the United States of America

VAN REES PRESS · NEW YORK

_Typography by Charles M. Todd_

Sixth Printing, April 1973

Part of this book was published in _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_

CONTENTS

 1 The Intruder 3 2 Hospital Seattle 15 3 The Inquisition 25 4 The Galactic Pill Peddlers 37 5 Crisis on Morua VIII 54 6 Tiger Makes a Promise 66 7 Alarums and Excursions 78 8 Plague! 98 9 The Incredible People 10710 The Boomerang Clue 12111 Dal Breaks a Promise 13612 The Showdown 15113 The Trial 16514 Star Surgeon 175

STAR SURGEON

CHAPTER 1

THE INTRUDER

The shuttle plane from the port of Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle hadalready gone when Dal Timgar arrived at the loading platform, eventhough he had taken great pains to be at least thirty minutes early forthe boarding. 

"You'll just have to wait for the next one, " the clerk at thedispatcher's desk told him unsympathetically. "There's nothing else youcan do. "

"But I _can't_ wait, " Dal said. "I have to be in Hospital Seattle bymorning. " He pulled out the flight schedule and held it under theclerk's nose. "Look there! The shuttle wasn't supposed to leave foranother forty-five minutes!"

The clerk blinked at the schedule, and shrugged. "The seats were full, so it left, " he said. "Graduation time, you know. Everybody has to besomewhere else, right away. The next shuttle goes in three hours. "

"But I had a reservation on this one, " Dal insisted. 

"Don't be silly, " the clerk said sharply. "Only graduates can getreservations this time of year--" He broke off to stare at Dal Timgar, a puzzled frown on his face. "Let me see that reservation. "

Dal fumbled in his pants pocket for the yellow reservation slip. He waswishing now that he'd kept his mouth shut. He was acutely conscious ofthe clerk's suspicious stare, and suddenly he felt extremely awkward. The Earth-cut trousers had never really fit Dal very well; his legs weretoo long and spindly, and his hips too narrow to hold the pants upproperly. The tailor in the Philadelphia shop had tried three times tomake a jacket fit across Dal's narrow shoulders, and finally had givenup in despair. Now, as he handed the reservation slip across thecounter, Dal saw the clerk staring at the fine gray fur that coated theback of his hand and arm. "Here it is, " he said angrily. "See foryourself. "

The clerk looked at the slip and handed it back indifferently. "It's avalid reservation, all right, but there won't be another shuttle toHospital Seattle for three hours, " he said, "unless you have a prioritycard, of course. "

"No, I'm afraid I don't, " Dal said. It was a ridiculous suggestion, andthe clerk knew it. Only physicians in the Black Service of Pathology anda few Four-star Surgeons had the power to commandeer public aircraftwhenever they wished. "Can I get on the next shuttle?"

"You can try, " the clerk said, "but you'd better be ready when theystart loading. You can wait up on the ramp if you want to. "

Dal turned and started across the main concourse of the great airport. He felt a stir of motion at his side, and looked down at the small pinkfuzz-ball sitting in the crook of his arm. "Looks like we're out ofluck, pal, " he said gloomily. "If we don't get on the next plane, we'llmiss the hearing altogether. Not that it's going to do us much good tobe there anyway. "

The little pink fuzz-ball on his arm opened a pair of black shoe-buttoneyes and blinked up at him, and Dal absently stroked the tiny creaturewith a finger. The fuzz-ball quivered happily and clung closer to Dal'sside as he started up the long ramp to the observation platform. Automatic doors swung open as he reached the top, and Dal shivered inthe damp night air. He could feel the gray fur that coated his back andneck rising to protect him from the coldness and dampness that his bodywas never intended by nature to endure. 

Below him the bright lights of the landing fields and terminal buildingsof the port of Philadelphia spread out in panorama, and he thought witha sudden pang of the great space-port in his native city, so verydifferent from this one and so unthinkably far away. The field below wasteeming with activity, alive with men and vehicles. Moments before, oneof Earth's great hospital ships had landed, returning from a cruise deepinto the heart of the galaxy, bringing in the gravely ill from a dozenstar systems for care in one of Earth's hospitals. Dal watched as thelong line of stretchers poured from the ship's hold with white-cladorderlies in nervous attendance. Some of the stretchers were encased inspecial atmosphere tanks; a siren wailed across the field as anemergency truck raced up with fresh gas bottles for a chlorine-breatherfrom the Betelgeuse system, and a derrick crew spent fifteen minuteslifting down the special liquid ammonia tank housing a native ofAldebaran's massive sixteenth planet. 

All about the field were physicians supervising the process ofdisembarcation, resplendent in the colors that signified their medicalspecialties. At the foot of the landing crane a Three-star Internist inthe green cape of the Medical Service--obviously the commander of theship--was talking with the welcoming dignitaries of Hospital Earth. Half a dozen doctors in the Blue Service of Diagnosis were checking newlab supplies ready to be loaded aboard. Three young Star Surgeons swungby just below Dal with their bright scarlet capes fluttering in thebreeze, headed for customs and their first Earthside liberty in months. Dal watched them go by, and felt the sick, bitter feeling in the pit ofhis stomach that he had felt so often in recent months. 

He had dreamed, once, of wearing the scarlet cape of the Red Service ofSurgery too, with the silver star of the Star Surgeon on his collar. That had been a long time ago, over eight Earth years ago; the dream hadfaded slowly, but now the last vestige of hope was almost gone. Hethought of the long years of intensive training he had just completed inthe medical school of Hospital Philadelphia, the long nights of studyingfor exams, the long days spent in the laboratories and clinics in orderto become a physician of Hospital Earth, and a wave of bitterness sweptthrough his mind. 

_A dream_, he thought hopelessly, _a foolish idea and nothing more. Theyknew before I started that they would never let me finish. They had nointention of doing so, it just amused them to watch me beat my head on astone wall for these eight years. _ But then he shook his head and felt alittle ashamed of the thought. It wasn't quite true, and he knew it. Hehad known that it was a gamble from the very first. Black DoctorArnquist had warned him the day he received his notice of admission tothe medical school. "I can promise you nothing, " the old man had said, "except a slender chance. There are those who will fight to the very endto prevent you from succeeding, and when it's all over, you may not win. But if you are willing to take that risk, at least you have a chance. "

Dal had accepted the risk with his eyes wide open. He had done the besthe could do, and now he had lost. True, he had not received the final, irrevocable word that he had been expelled from the medical service ofHospital Earth, but he was certain now that it was waiting for him whenhe arrived at Hospital Seattle the following morning. 

The loading ramp was beginning to fill up, and Dal saw half a dozen ofhis classmates from the medical school burst through the door from thestation below, shifting their day packs from their shoulders andchattering among themselves. Several of them saw him, standing byhimself against the guard rail. One or two nodded coolly and turnedaway; the others just ignored him. Nobody greeted him, nor even smiled. Dal turned away and stared down once again at the busy activity on thefield below. 

"Why so gloomy, friend?" a voice behind him said. "You look as thoughthe ship left without you. "

Dal looked up at the tall, dark-haired young man, towering at his side, and smiled ruefully. "Hello, Tiger! As a matter of fact, it _did_ leave. I'm waiting for the next one. "

"Where to?" Frank Martin frowned down at Dal. Known as "Tiger" toeveryone but the professors, the young man's nickname fit him well. Hewas big, even for an Earthman, and his massive shoulders and stubbornjaw only served to emphasize his bigness. Like the other recentgraduates on the platform, he was wearing the colored cuff and collar ofthe probationary physician, in the bright green of the Green Service ofMedicine. He reached out a huge hand and gently rubbed the pinkfuzz-ball sitting on Dal's arm. "What's the trouble, Dal? Even Fuzzylooks worried. Where's your cuff and collar?"

"I didn't get any cuff and collar, " Dal said. 

"Didn't you get an assignment?" Tiger stared at him. "Or are you justtaking a leave first?"

Dal shook his head. "A permanent leave, I guess, " he said bitterly. "There's not going to be any assignment for me. Let's face it, Tiger. I'm washed out. "

"Oh, now look here--"

"I mean it. I've been booted, and that's all there is to it. "

"But you've been in the top ten in the class right through!" Tigerprotested. "You know you passed your finals. What is this, anyway?"

Dal reached into his jacket and handed Tiger a blue paper envelope. "Ishould have expected it from the first. They sent me this instead of mycuff and collar. "

Tiger opened the envelope. "From Doctor Tanner, " he grunted. "The BlackPlague himself. But what is it?"

"Read it, " Dal said. 

"'You are hereby directed to appear before the medical training councilin the council chambers in Hospital Seattle at 10:00 A. M. , Friday, June24, 2375, in order that your application for assignment to a GeneralPractice Patrol ship may be reviewed. Insignia will not be worn. Signed, Hugo Tanner, Physician, Black Service of Pathology. '" Tiger blinked atthe notice and handed it back to Dal. "I don't get it, " he said finally. "You applied, you're as qualified as any of us--"

"Except in one way, " Dal said, "and that's the way that counts. Theydon't want me, Tiger. They have never wanted me. They only let me gothrough school because Black Doctor Arnquist made an issue of it, andthey didn't quite dare to veto him. But they never intended to let mefinish, not for a minute. "

For a moment the two were silent, staring down at the busy landingprocedures below. A warning light was flickering across the field, signaling the landing of an incoming shuttle ship, and the supply carsbroke from their positions in center of the field and fled like beetlesfor the security of the garages. A loudspeaker blared, announcing theincoming craft. Dal Timgar turned, lifting Fuzzy gently from his arminto a side jacket pocket and shouldering his day pack. "I guess this ismy flight, Tiger. I'd better get in line. "

Tiger Martin gripped Dal's slender four-fingered hand tightly. "Look, "he said intensely, "this is some sort of mistake that the trainingcouncil will straighten out. I'm sure of it. Lots of guys have theirapplications reviewed. It happens all the time, but they still get theirassignments. "

"Do you know of any others in this class? Or the last class?"

"Maybe not, " Tiger said. "But if they were washing you out, why wouldthe council be reviewing it? Somebody must be fighting for you. "

"But Black Doctor Tanner is on the council, " Dal said. 

"He's not the only one on the council. It's going to work out. You'llsee. "

"I hope so, " Dal said without conviction. He started for the loadingline, then turned. "But where are _you_ going to be? What ship?"

Tiger hesitated. "Not assigned yet. I'm taking a leave. But you'll behearing from me. "

The loading call blared from the loudspeaker. The tall Earthman seemedabout to say something more, but Dal turned away and headed acrosstoward the line for the shuttle plane. Ten minutes later, he was aloftas the tiny plane speared up through the black night sky and turned itsneedle nose toward the west. 

 * * * * *

He tried to sleep, but couldn't. The shuttle trip from the Port ofPhiladelphia to Hospital Seattle was almost two hours long because ofpassenger stops at Hospital Cleveland, Eisenhower City, New Chicago, andHospital Billings. In spite of the help of the pneumatic seats and asleep-cap, Dal could not even doze. It was one of the perfect clearnights that often occurred in midsummer now that weather control couldmodify Earth's air currents so well; the stars glittered against theblack velvet backdrop above, and the North American continent was freeof clouds. Dal stared down at the patchwork of lights that flickered upat him from the ground below. 

Passing below him were some of the great cities, the hospitals, theresearch and training centers, the residential zones and supply centersof Hospital Earth, medical center to the powerful GalacticConfederation, physician in charge of the health of a thousandintelligent races on a thousand planets of a thousand distant starsystems. Here, he knew, was the ivory tower of galactic medicine, thehub from which the medical care of the confederation arose. From thehuge hospitals, research centers, and medical schools here, thephysicians of Hospital Earth went out to all corners of the galaxy. Inthe permanent outpost clinics, in the gigantic hospital ships thatserved great sectors of the galaxy, and in the General Practice Patrolships that roved from star system to star system, they answered thecalls for medical assistance from a multitude of planets and races, wherever and whenever they were needed. 

Dal Timgar had been on Hospital Earth for eight years, and still he wasa stranger here. To him this was an alien planet, different in athousand ways from the world where he was born and grew to manhood. Fora moment now he thought of his native home, the second planet of a hotyellow star which Earthmen called "Garv" because they couldn't pronounceits full name in the Garvian tongue. Unthinkably distant, yet only daysaway with the power of the star-drive motors that its people haddeveloped thousands of years before, Garv II was a warm planet, teemingwith activity, the trading center of the galaxy and the governmentalheadquarters of the powerful Galactic Confederation of Worlds. Dal couldremember the days before he had come to Hospital Earth, and the manytimes he had longed desperately to be home again. 

He drew his fuzzy pink friend out of his pocket and rested him on hisshoulder, felt the tiny silent creature rub happily against his neck. Ithad been his own decision to come here, Dal knew; there was no one elseto blame. His people were not physicians. Their instincts and interestslay in trading and politics, not in the life sciences, and plague afterplague had swept across his home planet in the centuries before HospitalEarth had been admitted as a probationary member of the GalacticConfederation. 

But as long as Dal could remember, he had wanted to be a doctor. Fromthe first time he had seen a General Practice Patrol ship landing in hishome city to fight the plague that was killing his people by thethousands, he had known that this was what he wanted more than anythingelse: to be a physician of Hospital Earth, to join the ranks of thedoctors who were serving the galaxy. 

Many on Earth had tried to stop him from the first. He was a Garvian, alien to Earth's climate and Earth's people. The physical differencesbetween Earthmen and Garvians were small, but just enough to set himapart and make him easily identifiable as an alien. He had one too fewdigits on his hands; his body was small and spindly, weighing a bareninety pounds, and the coating of fine gray fur that covered all but hisface and palms annoyingly grew longer and thicker as soon as he came tothe comparatively cold climate of Hospital Earth to live. The bonestructure of his face gave his cheeks and nose a flattened appearance, and his pale gray eyes seemed abnormally large and wistful. And eventhough it had long been known that Earthmen and Garvians were equal inrange of intelligence, his classmates still assumed just from hisappearance that he was either unusually clever or unusually stupid. 

The gulf that lay between him and the men of Earth went beyond merephysical differences, however. Earthmen had differences of skin color, facial contour and physical size among them, yet made no sign ofdistinction. Dal's alienness went deeper. His classmates had been civilenough, yet with one or two exceptions, they had avoided him carefully. Clearly they resented his presence in their lecture rooms andlaboratories. Clearly they felt that he did not belong there, studyingmedicine. 

From the first they had let him know unmistakably that he was unwelcome, an intruder in their midst, the first member of an alien race ever totry to earn the insignia of a physician of Hospital Earth. 

And now, Dal knew he had failed after all. He had been allowed to tryonly because a powerful physician in the Black Service of Pathology hadbefriended him. If it had not been for the friendship and support ofanother Earthman in the class, Tiger Martin, the eight years of studywould have been unbearably lonely. 

But now, he thought, it would have been far easier never to have startedthan to have his goal snatched away at the last minute. The notice ofthe council meeting left no doubt in his mind. He had failed. Therewould be lots of talk, some perfunctory debate for the sake of therecord, and the medical council would wash their hands of him once andfor all. The decision, he was certain, was already made. It was just amatter of going through the formal motions. 

Dal felt the motors change in pitch, and the needle-nosed shuttle planebegan to dip once more toward the horizon. Ahead he could see thesprawling lights of Hospital Seattle, stretching from the CascadeMountains to the sea and beyond, north to Alaska and south toward thegreat California metropolitan centers. Somewhere down there was acouncil room where a dozen of the most powerful physicians on HospitalEarth, now sleeping soundly, would be meeting tomorrow for a trial thatwas already over, to pass a judgment that was already decided. 

He slipped Fuzzy back into his pocket, shouldered his pack, and waitedfor the ship to come down for its landing. It would be nice, he thoughtwryly, if his reservations for sleeping quarters in the students'barracks might at least be honored, but now he wasn't even sure of that. 

In the port of Seattle he went through the customary baggage check. Hesaw the clerk frown at his ill-fitting clothes and not-quite-human face, and then read his passage permit carefully before brushing him onthrough. Then he joined the crowd of travelers heading for the citysubways. He didn't hear the loudspeaker blaring until the announcer hadstumbled over his name half a dozen times. 

"_Doctor Dal Timgar, please report to the information booth. _"

He hurried back to central information. "You were paging me. What isit?"

"Telephone message, sir, " the announcer said, his voice surprisinglyrespectful. "A top priority call. Just a minute. "

Moments later he had handed Dal the yellow telephone message sheet, andDal was studying the words with a puzzled frown:

 CALL AT MY QUARTERS ON ARRIVAL REGARDLESS OF HOUR STOP URGENT THAT I SEE YOU STOP REPEAT URGENT

The message was signed THORVOLD ARNQUIST, BLACK SERVICE and carried thepriority seal of the Four-star Pathologist. Dal read it again, shiftedhis pack, and started once more for the subway ramp. He thrust themessage into his pocket, and his step quickened as he heard the whistleof the pressure-tube trains up ahead. 

Black Doctor Arnquist, the man who had first defended his right to studymedicine on Hospital Earth, now wanted to see him before the councilmeeting took place. 

For the first time in days, Dal Timgar felt a new flicker of hope. 

CHAPTER 2

HOSPITAL SEATTLE

It was a long way from the students' barracks to the pathology sectorwhere Black Doctor Arnquist lived. Dal Timgar decided not to try to goto the barracks first. It was after midnight, and even though themessage had said "regardless of hour, " Dal shrank from the thought ofawakening a physician of the Black Service at two o'clock in themorning. He was already later arriving at Hospital Seattle than he hadexpected to be, and quite possibly Black Doctor Arnquist would beretiring. It seemed better to go there without delay. 

But one thing took priority. He found a quiet spot in the waiting roomnear the subway entrance and dug into his day pack for the pressedbiscuit and the canister of water he had there. He broke off a piece ofthe biscuit and held it up for Fuzzy to see. 

Fuzzy wriggled down onto his hand, and a tiny mouth appeared just belowthe shoe-button eyes. Bit by bit Dal fed his friend the biscuit, withsquirts of water in between bites. Finally, when the biscuit was gone, Dal squirted the rest of the water into Fuzzy's mouth and rubbed himbetween the eyes. "Feel better now?" he asked. 

The creature seemed to understand; he wriggled in Dal's hand and blinkedhis eyes sleepily. "All right, then, " Dal said. "Off to sleep. "

Dal started to tuck him back into his jacket pocket, but Fuzzy abruptlysprouted a pair of forelegs and began struggling fiercely to get outagain. Dal grinned and replaced the little creature in the crook of hisarm. "Don't like that idea so well, eh? Okay, friend. If you want towatch, that suits me. "

He found a map of the city at the subway entrance, and studied itcarefully. Like other hospital cities on Earth, Seattle was primarily acenter for patient care and treatment rather than a supply oradministrative center. Here in Seattle special facilities existed forthe care of the intelligent marine races that required specializedhospital care. The depths of Puget Sound served as a vast aquatic wardsystem where creatures which normally lived in salt-water oceans ontheir native planets could be cared for, and the specialty physicianswho worked with marine races had facilities here for research andteaching in their specialty. The dry-land sectors of the hospital wereorganized to support the aquatic wards; the surgeries, the laboratories, the pharmacies and living quarters all were arranged on the periphery ofthe salt-water basin, and rapid-transit tubes carried medical workers, orderlies, nurses and physicians to the widespread areas of the hospitalcity. 

The pathology sector lay to the north of the city, and Black DoctorArnquist was the chief pathologist of Hospital Seattle. Dal found anorthbound express tube, climbed into an empty capsule, and pressed thebuttons for the pathology sector. Presently the capsule was shiftedautomatically into the pressure tube that would carry him thirty milesnorth to his destination. 

It was the first time Dal had ever visited a Black Doctor in hisquarters, and the idea made him a little nervous. Of all the medicalservices on Hospital Earth, none had the power of the Black Service ofPathology. Traditionally in Earth medicine, the pathologists had alwaysoccupied a position of power and discipline. The autopsy rooms hadalways been the "Temples of Truth" where the final, inarguable answersin medicine were ultimately found, and for centuries pathologists hadbeen the judges and inspectors of the profession of medicine. 

And when Earth had become Hospital Earth, with status as a probationarymember of the Galactic Confederation of Worlds, it was natural that theBlack Service of Pathology had become the governors and policy-makers, regimenting every aspect of the medical services provided by Earthphysicians. 

Dal knew that the medical training council, which would be reviewing hisapplication in just a few hours, was made up of physicians from all theservices--the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the Red Service of Surgery, as well as the Auxiliary Services--but theBlack Doctors who sat on the council would have the final say, the finalveto power. 

He wondered now why Black Doctor Arnquist wanted to see him. At first hehad thought there might be special news for him, word perhaps that hisassignment had come through after all, that the interview tomorrow wouldnot be held. But on reflection, he realized that didn't make sense. Ifthat were the case, Doctor Arnquist would have said so, and directed himto report to a ship. More likely, he thought, the Black Doctor wantedto see him only to soften the blow, to help him face the decision thatseemed inevitable. 

He left the pneumatic tube and climbed on the jitney that wound its waythrough the corridors of the pathology sector and into the quiet, austere quarters of the resident pathologists. He found the properconcourse, and moments later he was pressing his thumb against theidentification plate outside the Black Doctor's personal quarters. 

 * * * * *

Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist looked older now than when Dal had lastseen him. His silvery gray hair was thinning, and there were tired linesaround his eyes and mouth that Dal did not remember from before. The oldman's body seemed more wispy and frail than ever, and the black cloakacross his shoulders rustled as he led Dal back into a book-lined study. 

The Black Doctor had not yet gone to bed. On a desk in the corner of thestudy several books lay open, and a roll of paper was inserted in thedicto-typer. "I knew you would get the message when you arrived, " hesaid as he took Dal's pack, "and I thought you might be later than youplanned. A good trip, I trust. And your friend here? He enjoys shuttletravel?" He smiled and stroked Fuzzy with a gnarled finger. "I supposeyou wonder why I wanted to see you. "

Dal Timgar nodded slowly. "About the interview tomorrow?"

"Ah, yes. The interview. " The Black Doctor made a sour face and shookhis head. "A bad business for you, that interview. How do you feel aboutit?"

Dal spread his hands helplessly. As always, the Black Doctor's questionscut through the trimming to the heart of things. They were alwaysdifficult questions to answer. 

"I . .. I suppose it's something that's necessary, " he said finally. 

"Oh?" the Black Doctor frowned. "But why necessary for you if not forthe others? How many were there in your class, including all theservices? Three hundred? And out of the three hundred only one wasrefused assignment. " He looked up sharply at Dal, his pale blue eyesvery alert in his aged face. "Right?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And you really feel it's just normal procedure that your application isbeing challenged?"

"No, sir. "

"How _do_ you feel about it, Dal? Angry, maybe?"

Dal squirmed. "Yes, sir. You might say that. "

"Perhaps even bitter, " the Black Doctor said. 

"I did as good work as anyone else in my class, " Dal said hotly. "I didmy part as well as anyone could, I didn't let up once all the waythrough. Bitter! Wouldn't you feel bitter?"

The Black Doctor nodded slowly. "Yes, I imagine I would, " he said, sinking down into the chair behind the desk with a sigh. "As a matter offact, I do feel a little bitter about it, even though I was afraid thatit might come to this in the end. I can't blame you for your feelings. "He took a deep breath. "I wish I could promise you that everything wouldbe all right tomorrow, but I'm afraid I can't. The council has a rightto review your qualifications, and it holds the power to assign you to apatrol ship on the spot, if it sees fit. Conceivably, a Black Doctormight force the council's approval, if he were the only representativeof the Black service there. But I will not be the only Black Doctorsitting on the council tomorrow. "

"I know that, " Dal said. 

Doctor Arnquist looked up at Dal for a long moment. "Why do you want tobe a doctor in the first place, Dal? This isn't the calling of yourpeople. You must be the one Garvian out of millions with the patienceand peculiar mental make-up to permit you to master the scientificdisciplines involved in studying medicine. Either you are different fromthe rest of your people--which I doubt--or else you are driven to forceyourself into a pattern foreign to your nature for very compellingreasons. What are they? Why do you want medicine?"

It was the hardest question of all, the question Dal had dreaded. Heknew the answer, just as he had known for most of his life that hewanted to be a doctor above all else. But he had never found a way toput the reasons into words. "I can't say, " he said slowly. "I _know_, but I can't express it, and whenever I try, it just sounds silly. "

"Maybe your reasons don't make reasonable sense, " the old man saidgently. 

"But they do! At least to me, they do, " Dal said. "I've always wanted tobe a doctor. There's nothing else I want to do. To work at home, amongmy people. "

"There was a plague on Garv II, wasn't there?" Doctor Arnquist said. "Acyclic thing that came back again and again. The cycle was broken just afew years ago, when the virus that caused it was finally isolated anddestroyed. "

"By the physicians of Hospital Earth, " Dal said. 

"It's happened again and again, " the Black Doctor said. "We've seen thesame pattern repeated a thousand times across the galaxy, and it hasalways puzzled us, just a little. " He smiled. "You see, our knowledgeand understanding of the life sciences here on Earth have always grownhand in hand with the physical sciences. We had always assumed that thesame thing would happen on _any_ planet where a race has developedintelligence and scientific methods of study. We were wrong, of course, which is the reason for the existence of Hospital Earth and herphysicians today, but it still amazes us that with all the technologyand civilization in the galaxy, we Earthmen are the only people yetdiscovered who have developed a broad knowledge of the processes of lifeand illness and death. "

The old man looked up at his visitor, and Dal felt his pale blue eyessearching his face. "How badly do you want to be a doctor, Dal?"

"More than anything else I know, " Dal said. 

"Badly enough to do anything to achieve your goal?"

Dal hesitated, and stroked Fuzzy's head gently. "Well . .. Almostanything. "

The Black Doctor nodded. "And that, of course, is the reason I had tosee you before this interview, my friend. I know you've played the gamestraight right from the beginning, up to this point. Now I beg of younot to do the thing that you are thinking of doing. "

For a moment Dal just stared at the little old man in black, and feltthe fur on his arms and back rise up. A wave of panic flooded his mind. _He knows!_ he thought frantically. _He must be able to read minds!_ Buthe thrust the idea away. There was no way that the Black Doctor couldknow. No race of creatures in the galaxy had _that_ power. And yet therewas no doubt that Black Doctor Arnquist knew what Dal had been thinking, just as surely as if he had said it aloud. 

Dal shook his head helplessly. "I . .. I don't know what you mean. "

"I think you do, " Doctor Arnquist said. "Please, Dal. Trust me. This isnot the time to lie. The thing that you were planning to do at theinterview would be disastrous, even if it won you an assignment. Itwould be dishonest and unworthy. "

_Then he does know!_ Dal thought. _But how? I couldn't have told him, orgiven him any hint. _ He felt Fuzzy give a frightened shiver on his arm, and then words were tumbling out of his mouth. "I don't know what you'retalking about, there wasn't anything I was thinking of. I mean, whatcould I do? If the council wants to assign me to a ship, they will, andif they don't, they won't. I don't know what you're thinking of. "

"Please. " Black Doctor Arnquist held up his hand. "Naturally you defendyourself, " he said. "I can't blame you for that, and I suppose this isan unforgivable breach of diplomacy even to mention it to you, but Ithink it must be done. Remember that we have been studying and observingyour people very carefully over the past two hundred years, Dal. It isno accident that you have such a warm attachment to your little pinkfriend here, and it is no accident that wherever a Garvian is found, hisFuzzy is with him, isn't that so? And it is no accident that your peopleare such excellent tradesmen, that you are so remarkably skillful indriving bargains favorable to yourselves . .. That you are in fact themost powerful single race of creatures in the whole GalacticConfederation. "

The old man walked to the bookshelves behind him and brought down athick, bound manuscript. He handed it across the desk as Dal watchedhim. "You may read this if you like, at your leisure. Don't worry, it'snot for publication, just a private study which I have never mentionedbefore to anyone, but the pattern is unmistakable. This peculiar talentof your people is difficult to describe: not really telepathy, but anability to create the emotional responses in others that will be mostfavorable to you. Just what part your Fuzzies play in this ability ofyour people I am not sure, but I'm quite certain that without them youwould not have it. "

He smiled at Dal's stricken face. "A forbidden topic, eh? And yetperfectly true. You know right now that if you wanted to you couldvirtually paralyze me with fright, render me helpless to do anything butstand here and shiver, couldn't you? Or if I were hostile to yourwishes, you could suddenly force me to sympathize with you and like youenormously, until I was ready to agree to anything you wanted--"

"No, " Dal broke in. "Please, you don't understand! I've never done it, not once since I came to Hospital Earth. "

"I know that. I've been watching you. "

"And I wouldn't think of doing it. "

"Not even at the council interview?"

"Never!"

"Then let me have Fuzzy now. He is the key to this special talent ofyour people. Give him to me now, and go to the interview without him. "

Dal drew back, trembling, trying to fight down panic. He brought hishand around to the soft fur of the little pink fuzz-ball. "I . .. Can'tdo that, " he said weakly. 

"Not even if it meant your assignment to a patrol ship?"

Dal hesitated, then shook his head. "Not even then. But I won't do whatyou're saying, I promise you. "

For a long moment Black Doctor Arnquist stared at him. Then he smiled. "Will you give me your word?

"Yes, I promise. "

"Then I wish you good luck. I will do what I can at the interview. Butnow there is a bed for you here. You will need sleep if you are topresent your best appearance. "

CHAPTER 3

THE INQUISITION

The interview was held in the main council chambers of Hospital Seattle, and Dal could feel the tension the moment he stepped into the room. Helooked at the long semicircular table, and studied the impassive facesof the four-star Physicians across the table from him. 

Each of the major medical services was represented this morning. In thecenter, presiding over the council, was a physician of the WhiteService, a Four-star Radiologist whose insignia gleamed on hisshoulders. There were two physicians each, representing the Red Serviceof Surgery, the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service ofDiagnosis, and finally, seated at either end of the table, therepresentatives of the Black Service of Pathology. Black Doctor ThorvoldArnquist sat to Dal's left; he smiled faintly as the young Garvianstepped forward, then busied himself among the papers on the desk beforehim. To Dal's right sat another Black Doctor who was not smiling. 

Dal had seen him before--the chief co-ordinator of medical education onHospital Earth, the "Black Plague" of the medical school jokes. BlackDoctor Hugo Tanner was large and florid of face, blinking owlishly atDal over his heavy horn-rimmed glasses. The glasses were purelydecorative; with modern eye-cultures and transplant techniques, noEarthman had really needed glasses to correct his vision for the pasttwo hundred years, but on Hugo Tanner's angry face they added a look ofgravity and solemnity that the Black Doctor could not achieve withoutthem. Still glaring at Dal, Doctor Tanner leaned over to speak to theBlue Doctor on his right, and they nodded and laughed unpleasantly atsome private joke. 

There was no place for him to sit, so Dal stood before the table, asstraight as his five-foot height would allow him. He had placed Fuzzyalmost defiantly on his shoulder, and from time to time he could feelthe little creature quiver and huddle against his neck as though to hidefrom sight under his collar. 

The White Doctor opened the proceedings, and at first the questions wereentirely medical. "We are meeting to consider this student's applicationfor assignment to a General Practice Patrol ship, as a probationaryphysician in the Red Service of Surgery. I believe you are allacquainted with his educational qualifications?"

There was an impatient murmur around the table. The White Doctor lookedup at Dal. "Your name, please?"

"Dal Timgar, sir. "

"Your _full_ name, " Black Doctor Tanner rumbled from the right-hand endof the table. 

Dal took a deep breath and began to give his full Garvian name. It wasuntranslatable and unpronounceable to Earthmen, who could not reproducethe sequence of pops and whistles that made up the Garvian tongue. Thedoctors listened, blinking, as the complex family structure andancestry which entered into every Garvian's full name continued to rollfrom Dal's lips. He was entering into the third generation removed ofhis father's lineage when Doctor Tanner held up his hand. 

"All right, all right! We will accept the abbreviated name you have usedon Hospital Earth. Let it be clear on the record that the applicant is anative of the second planet of the Garv system. " The Black Doctorsettled back in his chair and began whispering again to the Blue Doctornext to him. 

A Green Doctor cleared his throat. "Doctor Timgar, what do you considerto be the basic principle that underlies the work and services ofphysicians of Hospital Earth?"

It was an old question, a favorite on freshman medical schoolexaminations. "The principle that environments and life forms in theuniverse may be dissimilar, but that biochemical reactions are universalthroughout creation, " Dal said slowly. 

"Well memorized, " Black Doctor Tanner said sourly. "What does it mean?"

"It means that the principles of chemistry, physiology, pathology andthe other life sciences, once understood, can be applied to any livingcreature in the universe, and will be found valid, " Dal said. "Asdifferent as the various life forms may be, the basic life processes inone life form are the same, under different conditions, as the lifeprocesses in any other life form, just as hydrogen and oxygen willcombine to form water anywhere in the universe where the proper physicalconditions prevail. "

"Very good, very good, " the Green Doctor said. "But tell me this: whatin your opinion is the place of surgery in a Galactic practice ofmedicine?"

A more difficult question, but one that Dal's training had prepared himwell to answer. He answered it, and faced another question, and another. One by one, the doctors interrogated him, Black Doctor Arnquist amongthem. The questions came faster and faster; some were exceedinglydifficult. Once or twice Dal was stopped cold, and forced to admit thathe did not know the answer. Other questions which he knew would stopother students happened to fall in fields he understood better thanmost, and his answers were full and succinct. 

But finally the questioning tapered off, and the White Doctor shuffledhis papers impatiently. "If there are no further medical questions, wecan move on to another aspect of this student's application. Certainquestions of policy have been raised. Black Doctor Tanner had somethings to say, I believe, as co-ordinator of medical education. "

The Black Doctor rose ponderously to his feet. "I have some things tosay, you can be sure of that, " he said, "but they have nothing to dowith this Dal Timgar's educational qualifications for assignment to aGeneral Practice Patrol ship. " Black Doctor Tanner paused to glare inDal's direction. "He has been trained in a medical school on HospitalEarth, and apparently has passed his final qualifying examinations forthe Red Service of Surgery. I can't argue about that. "

Black Doctor Arnquist's voice came across the room. "Then why are wehaving his review, Hugo? Dal Timgar's classmates all received theirassignments automatically. "

"Because there are other things to consider here than educationalqualifications, " Hugo Tanner said. "Gentlemen, consider our position fora moment. We have thousands of probationary physicians abroad in thegalaxy at the present time, fine young men and women who have beentrained in medical schools on Hospital Earth, and now are gainingexperience and judgment while fulfilling our medical service contractsin every part of the confederation. They are probationers, but we mustnot forget that we physicians of Hospital Earth are also probationers. We are seeking a permanent place in this great Galactic Confederation, which was in existence many thousands of years before we even knew ofits existence. It was not until our own scientists discovered the Koenigstar-drive, enabling us to break free of our own solar system, that wewere met face to face with a confederation of intelligent racesinhabiting the galaxy--among others, the people from whom this same DalTimgar has come. "

"The history is interesting, " Black Doctor Arnquist broke in, "butreally, Hugo, I think most of us know it already. "

"Maybe we do, " Doctor Tanner said, flushing a little. "But the historyis significant. Permanent membership in the confederation is contingenton two qualifications. First, we must have developed a star-drive of ourown, a qualification of intelligence, if you will. The confederation hasruled that only races having a certain level of intelligence can becomemembers. A star-drive could only be developed with a far-reachingunderstanding of the physical sciences, so this is a valid criterion ofintelligence. But the second qualification for confederation membershipis nothing more nor less than a question of usefulness. "

The presiding White Doctor looked up, frowning. "Usefulness?"

"Exactly. The Galactic Confederation, with its exchange of ideas andtalents, and all the wealth of civilization it has to offer, is based ona division of labor. Every member must have something to contribute, some special talent. For Earthmen, the talent was obvious very early. Our technology was primitive, our manufacturing skills mediocre, ourtransport and communications systems impossible. But in ourunderstanding of the life sciences, we have far outstripped any otherrace in the galaxy. We had already solved the major problems of diseaseand longevity among our own people, while some of the most advancedraces in the confederation were being reduced to helplessness by cyclicplagues which slaughtered their populations, and were caused by nothingmore complex than a simple parasitic virus. Garv II is an excellentexample. "

One of the Red Doctors cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I don't quite seethe connection. Nobody is arguing about our skill as doctors. "

"Of course not, " Black Doctor Tanner said. "The point is that in all thegalaxy, Earthmen are by their very nature the _best_ doctors, outstripping the most advanced physicians on any other planet. And this, gentlemen, is our bargaining point. We are useful to the GalacticConfederation only as physicians. The confederation needed us badlyenough to admit us to probational membership, but if we ever hope tobecome full members of the confederation, we must demonstrate ourusefulness, our unique skill, as physicians. We have worked hard toprove ourselves. We have made Hospital Earth the galactic center ofstudy and treatment of diseases of many races. Earthmen on the GeneralPractice Patrol ships visit planets in the remotest sections, and theirreputation as physicians has grown. Every year new planets are writingfull medical service contracts with us . .. As Earthmen serving thegalaxy--"

"As _physicians_ serving the galaxy, " Black Doctor Arnquist's voice shotacross the room. 

"As far as the confederation has been concerned, the two have beensynonymous, " Hugo Tanner roared. "_Until now. _ But now we have an alienamong us. We have allowed a non-Earthman to train in our medicalschools. He has completed the required work, his qualifications areacceptable, and now he proposes to go out on a patrol ship as aphysician of the Red Service of Surgery. But think of what you are doingif you permit him to go! You will be proving to every planet in theconfederation that they don't really need Earthmen after all, that anyrace from any planet might produce physicians just as capable asEarthmen. "

The Black Doctor turned slowly to face Dal, his mouth set in a grimline. As he talked, his face had grown dark with anger. "Understand thatI have nothing against this creature as an individual. Perhaps he wouldprove to be a competent physician, although I cannot believe it. Perhapshe would carry on the traditions of medical service we have worked solong to establish, although I doubt it. But I do know that if we permithim to become a qualified physician, it will be the beginning of the endfor Hospital Earth. We will be selling out our sole bargaining position. We can forget our hopes for membership in the confederation, because onelike him this year will mean two next year, and ten the next, and therewill be no end to it. We should have stopped it eight years ago, butcertain ones prevailed to admit Dal Timgar to training. If we do notstop it now, for all time, we will never be able to stop it. "

Slowly the Black Doctor sat down, motioning to an orderly at the rear ofthe room. The orderly brought a glass of water and a small capsule whichBlack Doctor Tanner gulped down. The other doctors were talking heatedlyamong themselves as Black Doctor Arnquist rose to his feet. "Then youare claiming that our highest calling is to keep medicine in the handsof Earthmen alone?" he asked softly. 

Doctor Tanner flushed. "Our highest calling is to provide good medicalcare for our patients, " he said. 

"The best possible medical care?"

"I never said otherwise. "

"And yet you deny the ancient tradition that a physician's duty is tohelp his patients help themselves, " Black Doctor Arnquist said. 

"I said no such thing!" Hugo Tanner cried, jumping to his feet. "But wemust protect ourselves. We have no other power, nothing else to sell. "

"And I say that if we must sell our medical skill for our own benefitfirst, then we are not worthy to be physicians to anyone, " DoctorArnquist snapped. "You make a very convincing case, but if we examine itclosely, we see that it amounts to nothing but fear and selfishness. "

"Fear?" Doctor Tanner cried. "What do we have to fear if we can maintainour position? But if we must yield to a Garvian who has no business inmedicine in the first place, what can we have left but fear?"

"If I were really convinced that Earthmen were the best physicians inthe galaxy, " Black Doctor Arnquist replied, "I don't think I'd have tobe afraid. "

The Black Doctor at the end of the table stood up, shaking with rage. "Listen to him!" he cried to the others. "Once again he is defendingthis creature and turning his back on common sense. All I ask is that wekeep our skills among our own people and avoid the contamination thatwill surely result--"

Doctor Tanner broke off, his face suddenly white. He coughed, clutchingat his chest, and sank down groping for his medicine box and the waterglass. After a moment he caught his breath and shook his head. "There'snothing more I can say, " he said weakly. "I have done what I could, andthe decision is up to the rest of you. " He coughed again, and slowly thecolor came back into his face. The Blue Doctor had risen to help him, but Tanner waved him aside. "No, no, it's nothing. I allowed myself tobecome angry. "

Black Doctor Arnquist spread his hands. "Under the circumstances, Iwon't belabor the point, " he said, "although I think it would be good ifDoctor Tanner would pause in his activities long enough for the surgerythat would make his anger less dangerous to his own life. But herepresents a view, and his right to state it is beyond reproach. " DoctorArnquist looked from face to face along the council table. "The decisionis yours, gentlemen, I would ask only that you consider what our highestcalling as physicians really is--a duty that overrides fear andselfishness. I believe Dal Timgar would be a good physician, and thatthis is more important than the planet of his origin. I think he woulduphold the honor of Hospital Earth wherever he went, and give us hisloyalty as well as his service. I will vote to accept his application, and thus cancel out my colleague's negative vote. The deciding voteswill be cast by the rest of you. "

He sat down, and the White Doctor looked at Dal Timgar. "It would begood if you would wait outside, " he said. "We will call you as soon as adecision is reached. "

 * * * * *

Dal waited in an anteroom, feeding Fuzzy and trying to put out of hismind for a moment the heated argument still raging in the councilchamber. Fuzzy was quivering with fright; unable to speak, the tinycreature nevertheless clearly experienced emotions, even though Dalhimself did not know how he received impressions, nor why. 

But Dal knew that there was a connection between the tiny pinkcreature's emotions and the peculiar talent that Black Doctor Arnquisthad spoken of the night before. It was not a telepathic power that Daland his people possessed. Just _what_ it was, was difficult to define, yet Dal knew that every Garvian depended upon it to some extent indealing with people around him. He knew that when Fuzzy was sitting onhis arm he could sense the emotions of those around him--the anger, thefear, the happiness, the suspicion--and he knew that under certaincircumstances, in a way he did not clearly understand, he could wilfullychange the feelings of others toward himself. Not a great deal, perhaps, nor in any specific way, but just enough to make them look upon him andhis wishes more favorably than they otherwise might. 

Throughout his years on Hospital Earth he had vigilantly avoided usingthis strange talent. Already he was different enough from Earthmen inappearance, in ways of thinking, in likes and dislikes. But thesedifferences were not advantages, and he had realized that if hisclassmates had ever dreamed of the advantage that he had, minor as itwas, his hopes of becoming a physician would have been destroyedcompletely. 

And in the council room he had kept his word to Doctor Arnquist. He hadfelt Fuzzy quivering on his shoulder; he had sensed the bitter anger inBlack Doctor Tanner's mind, and the temptation deliberately to mellowthat anger had been almost overwhelming, but he had turned it aside. Hehad answered questions that were asked him, and listened to the debatewith a growing sense of hopelessness. 

And now the chance was gone. The decision was being made. 

He paced the floor, trying to remember the expressions of the otherdoctors, trying to remember what had been said, how many had seemedfriendly and how many hostile, but he knew that only intensified thetorture. There was nothing he could do now but wait. 

At last the door opened, and an orderly nodded to him. Dal felt his legstremble as he walked into the room and faced the semi-circle of doctors. He tried to read the answer on their faces, but even Black DoctorArnquist sat impassively, doodling on the pad before him, refusing tomeet Dal's eyes. 

The White Doctor took up a sheet of paper. "We have considered yourapplication, and have reached a decision. You will be happy to know thatyour application for assignment has been tentatively accepted. "

Dal heard the words, and it seemed as though the room were spinningaround him. He wanted to shout for joy and throw his arms around BlackDoctor Arnquist, but he stood perfectly still, and suddenly he noticedthat Fuzzy was very quiet on his shoulder. 

"You will understand that this acceptance is not irrevocable, " the WhiteDoctor went on. "We are not willing to guarantee your ultimateacceptance as a fully qualified Star Surgeon at this point. You will beallowed to wear a collar and cuff, uniform and insignia of aprobationary physician, in the Red Service, and will be assigned aboardthe General Practice Patrol ship _Lancet_, leaving from Hospital Seattlenext Tuesday. If you prove your ability in that post, your performancewill once again be reviewed by this board, but you alone will determineour decision then. Your final acceptance as a Star Surgeon will dependentirely upon your conduct as a member of the patrol ship's crew. " Hesmiled at Dal, and set the paper down. "The council wishes you well. Doyou have any questions?"

"Just one, " Dal managed to say. "Who will my crewmates be?"

"As is customary, a probationer from the Green Service of Medicine andone from the Blue Service of Diagnosis. Both have been speciallyselected by this council. Your Blue Doctor will be Jack Alvarez, who hasshown great promise in his training in diagnostic medicine. "

"And the Green Doctor?"

"A young man named Frank Martin, " the White Doctor said. "Known to hisfriends, I believe, as 'Tiger. '"

CHAPTER 4

THE GALACTIC PILL PEDDLERS

The ship stood tall and straight on her launching pad, with theafternoon sunlight glinting on her hull. Half a dozen crews of check-outmen were swarming about her, inspecting her engine and fuel supplies, riding up the gantry crane to her entrance lock, and guiding the greatcargo nets from the loading crane into her afterhold. High up on herhull Dal Timgar could see a golden caduceus emblazoned, the symbol ofthe General Practice Patrol, and beneath it the ship's official name:

 GPPS 238 _LANCET_

Dal shifted his day pack down from his shoulders, ridiculously pleasedwith the gleaming scarlet braid on the collar and cuff of his uniform, and lifted Fuzzy up on his shoulder to see. It seemed to Dal thateveryone he had passed in the terminal had been looking at the colorfulinsignia; it was all he could do to keep from holding his arm up andwaving it like a banner. 

"You'll get used to it, " Tiger Martin chuckled as they waited for thejitney to take them across to the launching pad. "At first you thinkeverybody is impressed by the colors, until you see some guy go pastwith the braid all faded and frazzled at the edges, and then you realizethat you're just the latest greenhorn in a squad of two hundred thousandmen. "

"It's still good to be wearing it, " Dal said. "I couldn't really believeit until Black Doctor Arnquist turned the collar and cuff over to me. "He looked suspiciously at Tiger. "You must have known a lot more aboutthat interview than you let on. Or, was it just coincidence that we wereassigned together?"

"Not coincidence, exactly. " Tiger grinned. "I didn't know what was goingto happen. I'd requested assignment with you on my application, and thenwhen yours was held up, Doctor Arnquist asked me if I'd be willing towait for assignment until the interview was over. So I said okay. Heseemed to think you had a pretty good chance. "

"I'd never have made it without his backing, " Dal said. 

"Well, anyway, he figured that if you _were_ assigned, it would be agood idea to have a friend on the patrol ship team. "

"I won't argue about _that_, " Dal said. "But who is the Blue Serviceman?"

Tiger's face darkened. "I don't know much about him, " he said. "Hetrained in California, and I met him just once, at a diagnosis andtherapy conference. He's supposed to be plenty smart, according to thegrapevine. I guess he'd have to be, to pass Diagnostic Service finals. "Tiger chuckled. "Any dope can make it in the Medical or SurgicalServices, but diagnosis is something else again. "

"Will he be in command?"

"On the _Lancet_? Why should he? We'll share command, just like anypatrol ship crew. If we run into problems we can't agree on, we hollerfor help. But if he acts like most of the Blue Doctors I know, he'll_think_ he's in command. "

A jitney stopped for them, and then zoomed out across the field towardthe ship. The gantry platform was just clanging to the ground, unloadingthree technicians and a Four-bar Electronics Engineer. Tiger and Dalrode the platform up again and moments later stepped through theentrance lock of the ship that would be their home base for months andperhaps years. 

They found the bunk room to the rear of the control and lab sections. Aduffel bag was already lodged on one of the bunks; one of the footlockers was already occupied, and a small but expensive camera and ahuge pair of field glasses were hanging from one of the wall brackets. 

"Looks like our man has already arrived, " Tiger said, tossing down hisown duffel bag and looking around the cramped quarters. "Not exactly aluxury suite, I'd say. Wonder where he is?"

"Let's look up forward, " Dal said. "We've plenty to do before we takeoff. Maybe he's just getting an early start. "

They explored the ship, working their way up the central corridor pastthe communications and computer rooms and the laboratory into the maincontrol and observation room. Here they found a thin, dark-haired youngman in a bright blue collar and cuff, sitting engrossed with atape-reader. 

For a moment they thought he hadn't heard them. Then, as thoughreluctant to tear himself away, the Blue Doctor sighed, snapped off thereader, and turned on the swivel stool. 

"So!" he said. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to gethere. "

"We ran into some delays, " Tiger said. He grinned and held out his hand. "Jack Alvarez? Tiger Martin. We met each other at that conference inChicago last year. "

"Yes, I remember, " the Blue Doctor said. "You found some holes in apaper I gave. Matter of fact, I've plugged them up very nicely sincethen. You'd have trouble finding fault with the work now. " Jack Alvarezturned his eyes to Dal. "And I suppose this is the Garvian I've beenhearing about, complete with his little pink stooge. "

The moment they had walked in the door, Dal had felt Fuzzy crouch downtight against his shoulder. Now a wave of hostility struck his mind likea shower of ice water. He had never seen this thin, dark-haired youthbefore, or even heard of him, but he recognized this sharp impression ofhatred and anger unmistakably. He had felt it a thousand times among hismedical school classmates during the past eight years, and just hoursbefore he had felt it in the council room when Black Doctor Tanner hadturned on him. 

"It's really a lucky break that we have Dal for a Red Doctor, " Tigersaid. "We almost didn't get him. "

"Yes, I heard all about how lucky we are, " Jack Alvarez said sourly. Helooked Dal over from the gray fur on the top of his head to the spindlylegs in the ill-fitting trousers. Then the Blue Doctor shrugged indisgust and turned back to the tape-reader. "A Garvian and his Fuzzy!"he muttered. "Let's hope one or the other knows something aboutsurgery. "

"I think we'll do all right, " Dal said slowly. 

"I think you'd better, " Jack Alvarez replied. 

Dal and Tiger looked at each other, and Tiger shrugged. "It's allright, " he said. "We know our jobs, and we'll manage. "

Dal nodded, and started back for the bunk room. No doubt, he thought, they would manage. 

But if he had thought before that the assignment on the _Lancet_ wasgoing to be easy, he knew now that he was wrong. 

Tiger Martin may have been Doctor Arnquist's selection as a crewmate forhim, but there was no question in his mind that the Blue Doctor on the_Lancet_'s crew was Black Doctor Hugo Tanner's choice. 

 * * * * *

The first meeting with Jack Alvarez hardly seemed promising to eitherDal or Tiger, but if there was trouble coming, it was postponed for themoment by common consent. In the few days before blast-off there was notime for conflict, or even for much talk. Each of the three crewmen hadtwo full weeks of work to accomplish in two days; each knew his job andburied himself in it with a will. 

The ship's medical and surgical supplies had to be inventoried, andmissing or required supplies ordered up. New supplies coming in had tobe checked, tested, and stored in the ship's limited hold space. It waslike preparing for an extended pack trip into wilderness country; oncethe _Lancet_ left its home base on Hospital Earth it was a world toitself, equipped to support its physician-crew and provide the necessaryequipment and data they would need to deal with the problems they wouldface. Like all patrol ships, the _Lancet_ was equipped with automaticlaunching, navigation and drive mechanisms; no crew other than thethree doctors was required, and in the event of mechanical failures, maintenance ships were on continual call. 

The ship was responsible for patrolling an enormous area, includinghundreds of stars and their planetary systems--yet its territory wasonly a tiny segment of the galaxy. Landings were to be made at variousspecified planets maintaining permanent clinic outposts of HospitalEarth; certain staple supplies were carried for each of these checkpoints. Aside from these lonely clinic contacts, the nearest port ofcall for the _Lancet_ was one of the hospital ships that continuouslyworked slow orbits through the star systems of the confederation. 

But a hospital ship, with its staff of Two-star and Three-starPhysicians, was not to be called except in cases of extreme need. Theprobationers on the patrol ships were expected to be self-sufficient. Their job was to handle diagnosis and care of all but the most difficultproblems that arose in their travels. They were the first to answer themedical calls from any planet with a medical service contract withHospital Earth. 

It was an enormous responsibility for doctors-in-training to assume, butover the years it had proven the best way to train and weed out newdoctors for the greater responsibilities of hospital ship and HospitalEarth assignments. There was no set period of duty on the patrol ships;how long a young doctor remained in the General Practice Patrol dependedto a large extent upon how well he handled the problems andresponsibilities that faced him; and since the first years of HospitalEarth, the fledgling doctors in the General Practice Patrol--theself-styled "Galactic Pill Peddlers"--had lived up to theirresponsibilities. The reputation of Hospital Earth rested on theirshoulders, and they never forgot it. 

As he worked on his inventories, Dal Timgar thought of Doctor Arnquist'swords to him after the council had handed down its decision. "Rememberthat judgment and skill are two different things, " he had said. "Withoutskill in the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment, medicaljudgment isn't much help, but skill without the judgment to know how andwhen to use it can be downright dangerous. You'll be judged both on thejudgment you use in deciding the right thing to do, and on the skill youuse in doing it. " He had given Dal the box with the coveted collar andcuff. "The colors are pretty, but never forget what they stand for. Until you can convince the council that you have both the skill and thejudgment of a good physician, you will never get your Star. And you willbe watched closely; Black Doctor Tanner and certain others will bewaiting for the slightest excuse to recall you from the _Lancet_. If yougive them the opportunity, nothing I can do will stop it. "

And now, as they worked to prepare the ship for service, Dal wasdetermined that the opportunity would not arise. When he was not workingin the storerooms, he was in the computer room, reviewing the thousandsof tapes that carried the basic information about the contract planetswhere they would be visiting, and the races that inhabited them. Iferrors and fumbles and mistakes were made by the crew of the _Lancet_, he thought grimly, it would not be Dal Timgar who made them. 

The first night they met in the control room to divide the manyextracurricular jobs involved in maintaining a patrol ship. 

Tiger's interest in electronics and communications made him the best manto handle the radio; he accepted the post without comment. "Jack, youshould be in charge of the computer, " he said, "because you'll be theone who'll need the information first. The lab is probably your fieldtoo. Dal can be responsible for stores and supplies as well as his ownsurgical instruments. "

Jack shrugged. "I'd just as soon handle supplies, too, " he said. 

"Well, there's no need to overload one man, " Tiger said. 

"I wouldn't mind that. But when there's something I need, I want to besure it's going to be there without any goof-ups, " Jack said. 

"I can handle it all right, " Dal said. 

Jack just scowled. "What about the contact man when we make landings?"he asked Tiger. 

"Seems to me Dal would be the one for that, too, " Tiger said. "Hispeople are traders and bargainers; right, Dal? And first contact withthe people on unfamiliar planets can be important. "

"It sure can, " Jack said. "Too important to take chances with. Look, this is a ship from Hospital Earth. When somebody calls for help, theyexpect to see an Earthman turn up in response. What are they going tothink when a patrol ship lands and _he_ walks out?"

Tiger's face darkened. "They'll be able to see his collar and cuff, won't they?"

"Maybe. But they may wonder what he's doing wearing them. "

"Well, they'll just have to learn, " Tiger snapped. "And you'll have tolearn, too, I guess. "

Dal had been sitting silently. Now he shook his head. "I think Jack isright on this one, " he said. "It would be better for one of you to becontact man. "

"Why?" Tiger said angrily. "You're as much of a doctor from HospitalEarth as we are, and the sooner we get your position here straight, thebetter. We aren't going to have any ugly ducklings on this ship, and wearen't going to hide you in the hold every time we land on a planet. Ifwe want to make anything but a mess of this cruise, we've got to work asa team, and that means everybody shares the important jobs. "

"That's fine, " Dal said, "but I still think Jack is right on this point. If we are walking into a medical problem on a planet where the patrolisn't too well known, the contact man by rights ought to be anEarthman. "

Tiger started to say something, and then spread his hands helplessly. "Okay, " he said. "If you're satisfied with it, let's get on to theseother things. " But obviously he wasn't satisfied, and when Jackdisappeared toward the storeroom, Tiger turned to Dal. "You shouldn'thave given in, " he said. "If you give that guy as much as an inch, you're just asking for trouble. "

"It isn't a matter of giving in, " Dal insisted. "I think he was right, that's all. Don't let's start a fight where we don't have to. "

Tiger yielded the point, but when Jack returned, Tiger avoided him, keeping to himself the rest of the evening. And later, as he tried toget to sleep, Dal wondered for a moment. Maybe Tiger was right. Maybe hewas just dodging a head-on clash with the Blue Doctor now and settingthe stage for a real collision later. 

Next day the argument was forgotten in the air of rising excitement asembarkation orders for the _Lancet_ came through. Preparations werecompleted, and only last-minute double-checks were required beforeblast-off. 

But an hour before count-down began, a jitney buzzed across the field, and a Two-star Pathologist climbed aboard with his three black-cloakedorderlies. "Shakedown inspection, " he said curtly. "Just a matter ofroutine. " And with that he stalked slowly through the ship, checking thestorage holds, the inventories, the lab, the computer with itsinformation banks, and the control room. As he went along he kept firingmedical questions at Dal and Tiger, hardly pausing long enough for theanswers, and ignoring Jack Alvarez completely. "What's the normal rangeof serum cholesterol in a vegetarian race with Terran environment? Howwould you run a Wenberg electrophoresis? How do you determine individualradiation tolerance? How would you prepare a heart culture for cardiactransplant on board this ship?" The questions went on until Tiger andDal were breathless, as count-down time grew closer and closer. Finallythe Black Doctor turned back toward the entrance lock. He seemed vaguelydisappointed as he checked the record sheets the orderlies had beenkeeping. With an odd look at Dal, he shrugged. "All right, here are yourclearance papers, " he said to Jack. "Your supply of serum globulinfractions is up to black-book requirements, but you'll run short if youhappen to hit a virus epidemic; better take on a couple of more cases. And check central information just before leaving. We've signed two newcontracts in the past week, and the co-ordinator's office has someadvance information on both of them. "

When the inspector had gone, Tiger wiped his forehead and sighed. "Thatwas no routine shakedown!" he said. "What _is_ a Wenbergelectrophoresis?"

"A method of separating serum proteins, " Jack Alvarez said. "You ranthem in third year biochemistry. And if we _do_ hit a virus epidemic, you'd better know how, too. "

He gave Tiger an unpleasant smile, and started back down the corridor asthe count-down signal began to buzz. 

But for all the advance arrangements they had made to divide the ship'swork, it was Dal Timgar who took complete control of the _Lancet_ forthe first two weeks of its cruise. Neither Tiger nor Jack challenged hiscommand; not a word was raised in protest. The Earthmen were too sick totalk, much less complain about anything. 

For Dal the blast-off from the port of Seattle and the conversion intoKoenig star-drive was nothing new. His father owned a fleet of Garviantrading ships that traveled to the far corners of the galaxy by means ofa star-drive so similar to the Koenig engines that only an electronicengineer could tell them apart. All his life Dal had traveled on theoutgoing freighters with his father; star-drive conversion was nosurprise to him. 

But for Jack and Tiger, it was their first experience in a star-driveship. The _Lancet_'s piloting and navigation were entirely automatic;its destination was simply coded into the drive computers, and the shipwas ready to leap across light years of space in a matter of hours. Butthe conversion to star-drive, as the _Lancet_ was wrenched, crew andall, out of the normal space-time continuum, was far outside of normalhuman experience. The physical and emotional shock of the conversion hitJack and Tiger like a sledge hammer, and during the long hours while theship was traveling through the time-less, distance-less universe of thedrive to the pre-set co-ordinates where it materialized again intoconventional space-time, the Earthmen were retching violently, too sickto budge from the bunk room. It took over two weeks, with stops at halfa dozen contract planets, before Jack and Tiger began to adjustthemselves to the frightening and confusing sensations of conversion tostar-drive. During this time Dal carried the load of the ship's workalone, while the others lay gasping and exhausted in their bunks, tryingto rally strength for the next shift. 

To his horror, Dal discovered that the first planetary stop-over wastraditionally a hazing stop. It had been a well-kept patrol secret; theoutpost clinic on Tempera VI was waiting eagerly for the arrival of thenew "green" crew, knowing full well that the doctors aboard would hardlybe able to stumble out of their bunks, much less to cope with medicalproblems. The outpost men had concocted a medical "crisis" of staggeringproportions to present to the _Lancet_'s crew; they were so clearlydisappointed to find the ship's Red Doctor in full command of himselfthat Dal obligingly became violently ill too, and did his best to mimickJack and Tiger's floundering efforts to pull themselves together and do_something_ about the "problem" that suddenly descended upon them. 

Later, there was a party and celebration, with music and food, as theclinic staff welcomed the pale and shaken doctors into the joke. Theoutpost men plied Dal for the latest news from Hospital Earth. They weresurprised to see a Garvian aboard the _Lancet_, but no one at theoutpost showed any sign of resentment at the scarlet braid on Dal'scollar and cuff. 

Slowly Jack and Tiger got used to the peculiarities of popping in andout of hyperspace. It was said that immunity to star-drive sickness washard to acquire, but lasted a lifetime, and would never again botherthem once it was achieved. Bit by bit the Earthmen crept out of theirshells, to find the ship in order and a busy Dal Timgar relieved andhappy to have them aboard again. 

Fortunately, the medical problems that came to the _Lancet_ in the firstfew weeks were largely routine. The ship stopped at the specifiedcontact points--some far out near the rim of the galacticconstellation, others in closer to the densely star-populated center. Ateach outpost clinic the _Lancet_ was welcomed with open arms. Theoutpost men were hungry for news from home, and happy to see freshsupplies; but they were also glad to review the current medical problemson their planets with the new doctors, exchanging opinions and arguingdiagnosis and therapy into the small hours of the night. 

Occasionally calls came in to the ship from contract planets in need ofhelp. Usually the problems were easy to handle. On Singall III, a tinyplanet of a cooling giant star, help was needed to deal with a newoutbreak of a smallpox-like plague that had once decimated thepopulation; the disease had finally been controlled after a HospitalEarth research team had identified the organism that caused it, determined its molecular structure, and synthesized an antibiotic thatcould destroy it without damaging the body of the host. But now aflareup had occurred. The _Lancet_ brought in supplies of theantibiotic, and Tiger Martin spent two days showing Singallesephysicians how to control further outbreaks with modern methods ofimmunization and antisepsis. 

Another planet called for a patrol ship when a bridge-building disasteroccurred; one of the beetle-like workmen had been badly crushed under amassive steel girder. Dal spent over eighteen hours straight with thepatient in the _Lancet_'s surgery, carefully repairing the creature'sdamaged exoskeleton and grafting new segments of bone for regenerationof the hopelessly ruined parts, with Tiger administering anaesthesia andJack preparing the grafts from the freezer. 

On another planet Jack faced his first real diagnostic challenge and metthe test with flying colors. Here a new cancer-like degenerative diseasehad been appearing among the natives of the planet. It had never beforebeen noted. Initial attempts to find a causative agent had all three ofthe _Lancet_'s crew spending sleepless nights for a week, but Jack'scareful study of the pattern of the disease and the biochemicalreactions that accompanied it brought out the answer: the disease wascaused by a rare form of genetic change which made crippling alterationsin an essential enzyme system. Knowing this, Tiger quickly found a drugwhich could be substituted for the damaged enzyme, and the problem wassolved. They left the planet, assuring the planetary government thatlaboratories on Hospital Earth would begin working at once to find a wayactually to rebuild the damaged genes in the embryonic cells, and thusput a permanent end to the disease. 

These were routine calls, the kind of ordinary general medical work thatthe patrol ships were expected to handle. But the visits to the variousplanets were welcome breaks in the pattern of patrol ship life. The_Lancet_ was fully equipped, but her crew's quarters and living spacewere cramped. Under the best conditions, the crewmen on patrol ships goton each other's nerves; on the _Lancet_ there was an additional focus oftension that grew worse with every passing hour. 

From the first Jack Alvarez had made no pretense of pleasure at Dal'scompany, but now it seemed that he deliberately sought opportunities toannoy him. The thin Blue Doctor's face set into an angry mold wheneverDal was around. He would get up and leave when Dal entered the controlroom, and complained loudly and bitterly at minor flaws in Dal'sshipboard work. Nothing Dal did seemed to please him. 

But Tiger had a worse time controlling himself at the Blue Doctor's digsand slights than Dal did. "It's like living in an armed camp, " hecomplained one night when Jack had stalked angrily out of the bunkroom. "Can't even open your mouth without having him jump down yourthroat. "

"I know, " Dal said. 

"And he's doing it on purpose. "

"Maybe so. But it won't help to lose your temper. "

Tiger clenched a huge fist and slammed it into his palm. "He's justdeliberately picking at you and picking at you, " he said. "You can'ttake that forever. Something's got to break. "

"It's all right, " Dal assured him. "I just ignore it. "

But when Jack began to shift his attack to Fuzzy, Dal could ignore it nolonger. 

One night in the control room Jack threw down the report he was writingand turned angrily on Dal. "Tell your friend there to turn the other waybefore I lose my temper and splatter him all over the wall, " he said, pointing to Fuzzy. "All he does is sit there and stare at me and I'mgetting fed up with it. "

Fuzzy drew himself up tightly, shivering on Dal's shoulder. Dal reachedup and stroked the tiny creature, and Fuzzy's shoe-button eyesdisappeared completely. "There, " Dal said. "Is that better?"

Jack stared at the place the eyes had been, and his face darkenedsuspiciously. "Well, what happened to them?" he demanded. 

"What happened to what?"

"To his eyes, you idiot!"

Dal looked down at Fuzzy. "I don't see any eyes. "

Jack jumped up from the stool. He scowled at Fuzzy as if commanding theeyes to come back again. All he saw was a small ball of pink fur. "Look, he's been blinking them at me for a week, " he snarled. "I thought allalong there was something funny about him. Sometimes he's got legs andsometimes he hasn't. Sometimes he looks fuzzy, and other times he hasn'tgot any hair at all. "

"He's a pleomorph, " Dal said. "No cellular structure at all, just aprotein-colloid matrix. "

Jack glowered at the inert little pink lump. "Don't be silly, " he said, curious in spite of himself. "What holds him together?"

"Who knows? I don't. Some kind of electro-chemical cohesive force. Theonly reason he has 'eyes' is because he thinks I want him to have eyes. If you don't like it, he won't have them any more. "

"Well, that's very obliging, " Jack said. "But why do you keep himaround? What good does he do you, anyhow? All he does is eat and drinkand sleep. "

"Does he have to do something?" Dal said evasively. "He isn't botheringyou. Why pick on him?"

"He just seems to worry you an awful lot, " Jack said unpleasantly. "Let's see him a minute. " He reached out for Fuzzy, then jerked hisfinger back with a yelp. Blood dripped from the finger tip. 

Jack's face slowly went white. "Why, he--he _bit_ me!"

"Yes, and you're lucky he didn't take a finger off, " Dal said, tremblingwith anger. "He doesn't like you any more than I do, and you'll get bitevery time you come near him, so you'd better keep your hands toyourself. "

"Don't worry, " Jack Alvarez said, "he won't get another chance. You canjust get rid of him. "

"Not a chance, " Dal said. "You leave him alone and he won't bother you, that's all. And the same thing goes for me. "

"If he isn't out of here in twelve hours, I'll get a warrant, " Jack saidtightly. "There are laws against keeping dangerous pets on patrolships. "

Somewhere in the main corridor an alarm bell began buzzing. For amoment Dal and Jack stood frozen, glaring at each other. Then the doorburst open and Tiger Martin's head appeared. "Hey, you two, let's getmoving! We've got a call coming in, and it looks like a tough one. Comeon back here!"

They headed back toward the radio room. The signal was coming throughfrantically as Tiger reached for the pile of punched tape running out onthe floor. But as they crowded into the radio room, Dal felt Jack's handon his arm. "If you think I was fooling, you're wrong, " the Blue Doctorsaid through his teeth. "You've got twelve hours to get rid of him. "

CHAPTER 5

CRISIS ON MORUA VIII

The three doctors huddled around the teletype, watching as the decodedmessage was punched out on the tape. "It started coming in just now, "Tiger said. "And they've been beaming the signal in a spherical pattern, apparently trying to pick up the nearest ship they could get. There'scertainly some sort of trouble going on. "

The message was brief, repeated over and over: REQUIRE MEDICAL AIDURGENT REPLY AT ONCE. This was followed by the code letters thatdesignated the planet, its location, and the number of its medicalservice contract. 

Jack glanced at the code. "Morua VIII, " he said. "I think that's a gradeI contract. " He began punching buttons on the reference panel, andseveral screening cards came down the slot from the information bank. "Yes. The eighth planet of a large Sol-type star, the only inhabitedplanet in the system with a single intelligent race, ursine evolutionarypattern. " He handed the cards to Tiger. "Teddy-bears, yet!"

"Mammals?" Tiger said. 

"Looks like it. And they even hibernate. "

"What about the contract?" Dal asked. 

"Grade I, " said Tiger. "And they've had a thorough survey. Moderatelyadvanced in their own medical care, but they have full medical coverageany time they think they need it. We'd better get an acknowledgment backto them. Jack, get the ship ready to star-jump while Dal starts digginginformation out of the bank. If this race has its own doctors, they'donly be hollering for help if they're up against a tough one. "

Tiger settled down with earphones and transmitter to try to make contactwith the Moruan planet, while Jack went forward to control and Dalstarted to work with the tape reader. There was no argument now, and nodissension. The procedure to be followed was a well-established routine:acknowledge the call, estimate arrival time, relay the call and responseto the programmers on Hospital Earth, prepare for star-drive, and startgathering data fast. With no hint of the nature of the trouble, theirjob was to get there, equipped with as much information about the planetand its people as time allowed. 

The Moruan system was not distant from the _Lancet_'s present location. Tiger calculated that two hours in Koenig drive would put the ship inthe vicinity of the planet, with another hour required for landingprocedures. He passed the word on to the others, and Dal began diggingthrough the mass of information in the tape library on Morua VIII andits people. 

There was a wealth of data. Morua VIII had signed one of the firstmedical service contracts with Hospital Earth, and a thorough medical, biochemical, social and psychological survey had been made on the peopleof that world. Since the original survey, much additional informationhad been amassed, based on patrol ship reports and dozens of specialtystudies that had been done there. 

And out of this data, a picture of Morua VIII and its inhabitants beganto emerge. 

The Moruans were moderately intelligent creatures, warm-blooded airbreathers with an oxygen-based metabolism. Their planet was cold, with17 per cent oxygen and much water vapor in its atmosphere. With its vastsnow-fields and great mountain ranges, the planet was a popular resortarea for oxygen-breathing creatures; most of the natives were engaged insome work related to winter sports. They were well fitted anatomicallyfor their climate, with thick black fur, broad flat hind feet and afour-inch layer of fat between their skin and their vital organs. 

Swiftly Dal reviewed the emergency file, checking for common drugs andchemicals that were poisonous to Moruans, accidents that were common tothe race, and special problems that had been met by previous patrolships. The deeper he dug into the mass of data, the more worried hebecame. Where should he begin? Searching in the dark, there was no wayto guess what information would be necessary and what part totallyuseless. 

He buzzed Tiger. "Any word on the nature of the trouble?" he asked. 

"Just got through to them, " Tiger said. "Not too much to go on, butthey're really in an uproar. Sounds like they've started some kind oforgan-transplant surgery and their native surgeon got cold feet halfwaythrough and wants us to bail him out. " Tiger paused. "I think this isgoing to be your show, Dal. Better check up on Moruan anatomy. "

It was better than no information, but not much better. Fuzzy huddled onDal's shoulder as if he could sense his master's excitement. Very fewraces under contract with Hospital Earth ever attempted their own majorsurgery. If a Moruan surgeon had walked into a tight spot in theoperating room, it could be a real test of skill to get him--and hispatient--out of it, even on a relatively simple procedure. Butorgan-transplantation, with the delicate vascular surgery andmicro-surgery that it entailed, was never simple. In incompetent hands, it could turn into a nightmare. 

Dal took a deep breath and began running the anatomical atlas tapesthrough the reader, checking the critical points of Moruan anatomy. Oxygen-transfer system, circulatory system, renal filtration system--atfirst glance, there was little resemblance to any of the "typical"oxygen-breathing mammals Dal had studied in medical school. But thensomething struck a familiar note, and he remembered studying thepeculiar Moruan renal system, in which the creature's chemical wasteproducts were filtered from the bloodstream in a series of tubulespassing across the peritoneum, and re-absorbed into the intestine forexcretion. Bit by bit other points of the anatomy came clear, and inhalf an hour of intense study Dal began to see how the inhabitants ofMorua VIII were put together. 

Satisfied for the moment, he then pulled the tapes that described theMoruans' own medical advancement. What were they doing attemptingorgan-transplantation, anyway? That was the kind of surgery that evenexperienced Star Surgeons preferred to take aboard the hospital ships, or back to Hospital Earth, where the finest equipment and the mostskilled assistants were available. 

There was a signal buzzer, the two-minute warning before the Koenigdrive took over. Dal tossed the tape spools back into the bin forrefiling, and went forward to the control room. 

Just short of two hours later, the _Lancet_ shifted back to normalspace drive, and the cold yellow sun of the Moruan system swam intosight in the viewscreen. Far below, the tiny eighth planet glistenedlike a snowball in the reflection of the sun, with only occasional rentsin the cloud blanket revealing the ragged surface below. The doctorswatched as the ship went into descending orbit, skimming the outeratmosphere and settling into a landing pattern. 

Beneath the cloud blanket, the frigid surface of the planet spread outbefore them. Great snow-covered mountain ranges rose up on either side. A forty-mile gale howled across the landing field, sweeping clouds ofpowdery snow before it. 

A huge gawky vehicle seemed to be waiting for the ship to land; it shotout from the huddle of gray buildings almost the moment they toucheddown. Jack slipped into the furs that he had pulled from stores, andwent out through the entrance lock and down the ladder to meet the darkfurry creatures that were bundling out of the vehicle below. Theelectronic language translator was strapped to his chest. 

Five minutes later he reappeared, frost forming on his blue collar, hisface white as he looked at Dal. "You'd better get down there rightaway, " he said, "and take your micro-surgical instruments. Tiger, giveme a hand with the anaesthesia tanks. They're keeping a patient alivewith a heart-lung machine right now, and they can't finish the job. Itlooks like it might be bad. "

 * * * * *

The Moruan who escorted them across the city to the hospital was a hugeshaggy creature who left no question of the evolutionary line of hispeople. Except for the flattened nose, the high forehead and thefur-less hand with opposing thumb, he looked for all the world like amammoth edition of the Kodiak bears Dal had seen displayed at thenatural history museum in Hospital Philadelphia. Like all creatures withoxygen-and-water based metabolisms, the Moruans could trace theirevolutionary line to minute one-celled salt-water creatures; but withthe bitter cold of the planet, the first land-creatures to emerge fromthe primeval swamp of Morua VIII had developed the heavy furs and thehibernation characteristics of bear-like mammals. They towered over Dal, and even Tiger seemed dwarfed by their immense chest girth and powerfulshoulders. 

As the surface car hurried toward the hospital, Dal probed for moreinformation. The Moruan's voice was a hoarse growl which nearly deafenedthe Earthmen in the confined quarters of the car but Dal with the aid ofthe translator could piece together what had happened. 

More sophisticated in medical knowledge than most races in the galaxy, the Moruans had learned a great deal from their contact with HospitalEarth physicians. They actually did have a remarkable grasp ofphysiology and biochemistry, and constantly sought to learn more. Theyhad already found ways to grow replacement organs from embryonic grafts, the Moruan said, and by copying the techniques used by the surgeons ofHospital Earth, their own surgeons had attempted the delicate job ofreplacing a diseased organ with a new, healthy one in a young maleafflicted with cancer. 

Dal looked up at the Moruan doctor. "What organ were you replacing?" heasked suspiciously. 

"Oh, not the entire organ, just a segment, " the Moruan said. "The tumorhad caused an obstructive pneumonia--"

"Are you talking about a segment of _lung_?" Dal said, almost choking. 

"Of course. That's where the tumor was. "

Dal swallowed hard. "So you just decided to replace a segment. "

"Yes. But something has gone wrong, we don't know what. "

"I see. " It was all Dal could do to keep from shouting at the hugecreature. The Moruans had no duplication of organs, such as Earthmen andcertain other races had. A tumor of the lung would mean death . .. Butthe technique of grafting a culture-grown lung segment to a portion ofnatural lung required enormous surgical skill, and the finestmicroscopic instruments that could be made in order to suture togetherthe tiny capillary walls and air tubules. And if one lung weredestroyed, a Moruan had no other to take its place. "Do you have anymicro-surgical instruments at all?"

"Oh, yes, " the Moruan rumbled proudly. "We made them ourselves, just forthis case. "

"You mean you've never attempted this procedure before?"

"This was the first time. We don't know where we went wrong. "

"You went wrong when you thought about trying it, " Dal muttered. "Whatanaesthesia?"

"Oxygen and alcohol vapor. "

This was no surprise. With many species, alcohol vapor was moreeffective and less toxic than other anaesthetic gases. "And you have aheart-lung machine?"

"The finest available, on lease from Hospital Earth. "

All the way through the city Dal continued the questioning, and by thetime they reached the hospital he had an idea of the task that wasfacing him. He knew now that it was going to be bad; he didn't realizejust how bad until he walked into the operating room. 

The patient was barely alive. Recognizing too late that they were inwater too deep for them, the Moruan surgeons had gone into panic, andneglected the very fundamentals of physiological support for thecreature on the table. Dal had to climb up on a platform just to see theoperating field; the faithful wheeze of the heart-lung machine that wassustaining the creature continued in Dal's ears as he examined the workalready done, first with the naked eye, then scanning the operativefield with the crude microscopic eyepiece. 

"How long has he been anaesthetized?" he asked the shaggy operatingsurgeon. 

"Over eighteen hours already. "

"And how much blood has he received?"

"A dozen liters. "

"Any more on hand?"

"Perhaps six more. "

"Well, you'd better get it into him. He's in shock right now. "

The surgeon scurried away while Dal took another look at the microfield. The situation was bad; the anaesthesia had already gone on toolong, and the blood chemistry record showed progressive failure. 

He stepped down from the platform, trying to clear his head and decidethe right thing to do. 

He had done micro-surgery before, plenty of it, and he knew thetechniques necessary to complete the job, but the thought of attemptingit chilled him. At best, he was on unfamiliar ground, with a dozenfactors that could go wrong. By now the patient was a dreadful risk forany surgeon. If he were to step in now, and the patient died, how wouldhe explain not calling for help?

He stepped out to the scrub room where Tiger was waiting. "Where'sJack?" he said. 

"Went back to the ship for the rest of the surgical pack. "

Dal shook his head. "I don't know what to do. I think we should get himto a hospital ship. "

"Is it more than you can handle?" Tiger said. 

"I could probably do it all right--but I could lose him, too. "

A frown creased Tiger's face. "Dal, it would take six hours for ahospital ship to get here. "

"I know that. But on the other hand. .. . " Dal spread his hands. He feltFuzzy crouching in a tight frightened lump in his pocket. He thoughtagain of the delicate, painstaking microscopic work that remained to bedone to bring the new section of lung into position to function, and heshook his head. "Look, these creatures hibernate, " he said. "If we couldget him cooled down enough, we could lighten the anaesthesia andmaintain him as is, indefinitely. "

"This is up to you, " Tiger said. "I don't know anything about surgery. If you think we should just hold tight, that's what we'll do. "

"All right. I think we'd better. Have them notify Jack to signal for ahospital ship. We'll just try to stick it out. "

Tiger left to pass the word, and Dal went back into the operating room. Suddenly he felt as if a great weight had been lifted from hisshoulders. There would be Three-star Surgeons on a Hospital Ship tohandle this; it seemed an enormous relief to have the task out of hishands. Yet something was wriggling uncomfortably in the back of hismind, a quiet little voice saying _this isn't right, you should be doingthis yourself right now instead of wasting precious time. .. . _

He thrust the thought away angrily and ordered the Moruan physicians tobring in ice packs to cool the patient's huge hulk down to hibernationtemperatures. "We're going to send for help, " Dal told the Moruansurgeon who had met them at the ship. "This man needs specialized care, and we'd be taking too much chance to try to do it this way. "

"You mean you're sending for a hospital ship?"

"That's right, " Dal said. 

This news seemed to upset the Moruans enormously. They began growlingamong themselves, moving back from the operating table. 

"Then you can't save him?" the operating surgeon said. 

"I think he can be saved, certainly!"

"But we thought you could just step in--"

"I could, but that would be taking chances that we don't need to take. We can maintain him until the hospital ship arrives. "

The Moruans continued to growl ominously, but Dal brushed past them, checking the vital signs of the patient as his body temperature slowlydropped. Tiger had taken over the anaesthesia, keeping the patient underas light a dosage of medication as was possible. 

"What's eating them?" he asked Dal quietly. 

"They don't want a hospital ship here very much, " Dal said. "Afraidthey'll look like fools all over the Confederation if the word gets out. But that's their worry. Ours is to keep this bruiser alive until theship gets here. "

They settled back to wait. 

It was an agonizing time for Dal. Even Fuzzy didn't seem to be muchcomfort. The patient was clearly not doing well, even with the low bodytemperatures Dal had induced. His blood pressure was sagging, and at onetime Tiger sat up sharply, staring at his anaesthesia dials and frowningin alarm as the nervous-system reactions flagged. The Moruan physicianshovered about, increasingly uneasy as they saw the doctors from HospitalEarth waiting and doing nothing. One of them, unable to control himselfany longer, tore off his sterile gown and stalked angrily out of theoperating suite. 

A dozen times Dal was on the verge of stepping in. It was beginning tolook now like a race with time, and precious minutes were passing by. Hecursed himself inwardly for not taking the bit in his teeth at thebeginning and going ahead the best he could; it had been a mistake injudgment to wait. Now, as minutes passed into hours it looked more andmore like a mistake that was going to cost the life of a patient. 

Then there was a murmur of excitement outside the operating room, andword came in that another ship had been sighted making landingmaneuvers. Dal clenched his fists, praying that the patient would lastuntil the hospital ship crew arrived. 

But the ship that was landing was not a hospital ship. Someone turned ona TV scanner and picked up the image of a small ship hardly larger thana patrol ship, with just two passengers stepping down the ladder to theground. Then the camera went close-up. Dal saw the faces of the two men, and his heart sank. 

One was a Four-star Surgeon, resplendent in flowing red cape andglistening silver insignia. Dal did not recognize the man, but the fourstars meant that he was a top-ranking physician in the Red Service ofSurgery. 

The other passenger, gathering his black cloak and hood around him as hefaced the blistering wind on the landing field, was Black Doctor HugoTanner. 

 * * * * *

Moments after the Four-star Surgeon arrived at the hospital, he wasfully and unmistakably in command of the situation. He gave Dal an icystare, then turned to the Moruan operating surgeon, whom he seemed toknow very well. After a short barrage of questions and answers, hescrubbed and gowned, and stalked past Dal to the crude Moruanmicro-surgical control table. 

It took him exactly fifteen seconds to scan the entire operating fieldthrough the viewer, discussing the anatomy as the Moruan surgeon watchedon a connecting screen. Then, without hesitation, he began manipulatingthe micro-instruments. Once or twice he murmured something to Tiger atthe anaesthesia controls, and occasionally he nodded reassurance to theMoruan surgeon. He did not even invite Dal to observe. 

Ten minutes later he rose from the control table and threw the switch tostop the heart-lung machine. The patient took a gasping breath on hisown, then another and another. The Four-star Surgeon stripped off hisgown and gloves with a flourish. "It will be all right, " he said to theMoruan physician. "An excellent job, Doctor, excellent!" he said. "Yourtechnique was flawless, except for the tiny matter you have justobserved. "

It was not until they were outside the operating room and beyond earshotof the Moruan doctors that the Four-star surgeon turned furiously toDal. "Didn't you even bother to examine the operating field, Doctor?Where did you study surgery? Couldn't you tell that the fools hadpractically finished the job themselves? All that was needed was asimple great-vessel graft, which an untrained idiot could have doneblindfolded. And for this you call me clear from Hospital Earth!"

The surgeon threw down his mask in disgust and stalked away, leaving Daland Tiger staring at each other in dismay. 

CHAPTER 6

TIGER MAKES A PROMISE

"I think, " Black Doctor Hugo Tanner said ominously, "that an explanationis in order. I would now like to hear it. And believe me, gentlemen, ithad better be a very sensible explanation, too. "

The pathologist was sitting in the control room of the _Lancet_, hisglasses slightly askew on his florid face. He had climbed through theentrance lock ten minutes before, shaking snow off his cloak andwheezing like a boiler about to explode; now he faced the patrol ship'screw like a small but ominous black thundercloud. Across the room, JackAlvarez was staring through the viewscreen at the blizzard howlingacross the landing field below, a small satisfied smile on his face, while Tiger sulked with his hands jammed into his trousers. Dal sat byhimself feeling very much alone, with Fuzzy peering discreetly out ofhis jacket pocket. 

He knew the Black Doctor was speaking to him, but he didn't try toreply. He had known from the moment the surgeon came out of theoperating room that he was in trouble. It was just a matter of timebefore he would have to answer for his decision here, and it was evensomething of a relief that the moment came sooner rather than later. 

And the more Dal considered his position, the more indefensible itappeared. Time after time he had thought of Dr. Arnquist's words aboutjudgment and skill. Without one the other was of little value to adoctor, and whatever his skill as a surgeon might have been in theMoruan operating room, he now realized that his judgment had been poor. He had allowed himself to panic at a critical moment, and had failed tosee how far the surgery had really progressed. By deciding to wait forhelp to arrive instead of taking over at once, he had placed the patientin even greater jeopardy than before. In looking back, Dal could seeclearly that it would have been far better judgment to proceed on hisown. 

But that was how it looked _now_, not _then_, and there was an oldsaying that the "retrospectoscope" was the only infallible instrument inall medicine. 

In any event, the thing was done, and couldn't be changed, and Dal knewthat he could only stand on what he had done, right or wrong. 

"Well, I'm waiting, " Black Doctor Tanner said, scowling at Dal throughhis thick-rimmed glasses. "I want to know who was responsible for thisfiasco, and why it occurred in the first place. "

Dal spread his hands hopelessly. "What do you want me to say?" he asked. "I took a careful history of the situation as soon as we arrived here, and then I examined the patient in the operating room. I thought thesurgery might be over my head, and couldn't see attempting it if ahospital ship could be reached in time. I thought the patient could bemaintained safely long enough for us to call for help. "

"I see, " the Black Doctor said. "You've done micro-surgery before?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And organ transplant work?"

"Yes, sir. "

The Black Doctor opened a folder and peered at it over his glasses. "Asa matter of fact, you spent two solid years in micro-surgical trainingin Hospital Philadelphia, with all sorts of glowing reports from yourpreceptors about what a flair you had for the work. "

Dal shook his head. "I--I did some work in the field, yes, but not oncritical cases under field conditions. "

"You mean that this case required some different kind of technique thanthe cases you've worked on before?"

"No, not really, but--"

"But you just couldn't quite shoulder the responsibility the jobinvolved when you got into a pinch without any help around, " the BlackDoctor growled. 

"I just thought it would be safer to wait, " Dal said helplessly. 

"A good conservative approach, " Dr. Tanner sneered. "Of course, yourealized that prolonged anaesthesia in itself could threaten thatpatient's life?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And you saw the patient's condition steadily deteriorating while youwaited, did you not?"

"It was too late to change my mind then, " Dal said desperately. "We'dsent for you. We knew that it would be only a matter of hours before youarrived. "

"Indeed, " the Black Doctor said. "Unfortunately, it takes only secondsfor a patient to cross the line between life and death, not hours. And Isuppose you would have stood there quietly and allowed him to expire ifwe had not arrived at the time we did?"

Dal shook his head miserably. There was nothing he could answer to that, and he realized it. What could he say? That the situation seemed quitedifferent now than it had under pressure in the Moruan operating room?That he would have been blamed just as much if he had gone ahead, andthen lost the case? His fingers stole down to Fuzzy's soft warm body forcomfort, and he felt the little creature cling closer to his side. 

The Black Doctor looked up at the others. "Well? What do the rest of youhave to say?"

Jack Alvarez shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not a surgeon, " he said, "buteven I could see that _something_ should be done without delay. "

"And what does the Green Doctor think?"

Tiger shrugged. "We misjudged the situation, that's all. It came outfortunately for the patient, why make all this fuss about it?"

"Because there are other things at stake than just medicalconsiderations, " the Black Doctor shot back. "This planet has a grade Icontract with Hospital Earth. We guarantee them full medical coverage ofall situations and promise them immediate response to any call formedical help that they may send us. It is the most favorable kind ofcontract we have; when Morua VIII calls for help they expect their callto be answered by expert medical attention, not by inept bungling. "

The Black Doctor leafed through the folder in his hands. "We have builtour reputation in the Galactic Confederation on this kind of contract, and our admission to full membership in the Confederation willultimately depend upon how we fulfill our promises. Poor medicaljudgment cannot be condoned under any circumstances--but above all, wecannot afford to jeopardize a contract. "

Dal stared at him. "I--I had no intention of jeopardizing a contract, "he faltered. 

"Perhaps not, " the Black Doctor said. "But you were the doctor on thespot, and you were so obviously incompetent to handle the situation thateven these clumsy Moruan surgeons could see it. Their faith in thedoctors from Hospital Earth has been severely shaken. They are eventalking of letting their contract lapse at the end of this term. "

Tiger Martin jumped to his feet. "Doctor Tanner, even Four-star Surgeonslose patients sometimes. These people should be glad that the doctorthey call has sense enough to call for help if he needs it. "

"But no help was needed, " the Black Doctor said angrily. "Anyhalf-decent surgeon would have handled the case. If the Moruans see apatrol ship bring in one incompetent doctor, what are they going toexpect the next time they have need for help? How can they feel surethat their medical needs are well taken care of?" He shook his headgrimly. "This is the sort of responsibility that doctors on the patrolships are expected to assume. If you call for help where there is needfor help, no one will ever complain; but when you turn and run themoment things get tough, you are not fit for patrol ship service. "

The Black Doctor turned to Dal Timgar. "You had ample warning, " he said. "It was clearly understood that your assignment on this ship dependedupon the fulfillment of the duties of Red Doctor here, and now at thefirst real test you turn and run instead of doing your job. All right. You had your opportunity. You can't complain that we haven't given you achance. According to the conduct code of the General Practice Patrol, section XIV, paragraph 2, any physician in the patrol on probationarystatus who is found delinquent in executing his duties may be relievedof his assignment at the order of any Black Doctor, or any otherphysician of four-star rank. " Doctor Tanner closed the folder with asnap of finality. "It seems to me that the case is clear. Dal Timgar, onthe authority of the Code, I am now relieving you of duty--"

"Just a minute, " Tiger Martin burst out. 

The Black Doctor looked up at him. "Well?"

"This is ridiculous, " Tiger said. "Why are you picking on _him_? Or doyou mean that you're relieving all three of us?"

"Of course I'm not relieving all three of you, " the Black Doctorsnapped. "You and Dr. Alvarez will remain on duty and conduct the ship'sprogram without a Red Doctor until a man is sent to replace thisbungler. That also is provided for in the code. "

"But I understood that we were operating as a diagnostic and therapeuticteam, " Tiger protested. "And I seem to remember something in the codeabout fixing responsibility before a man can be relieved. "

"There's no question where the responsibility lies, " the Black Doctorsaid, his face darkening. "This was a surgical problem, and Dal Timgarmade the decisions. I don't see anything to argue. "

"There's plenty to argue, " Tiger said. "Dal, don't you see what he'strying to do?"

Across the room Dal shook his head wearily. "You'd better keep out ofit, Tiger, " he said. 

"Why should I keep out of it and let you be drummed out of the patrolfor something that wasn't even your fault?" Tiger said. He turnedangrily to the Black Doctor. "Dal wasn't the one that wanted thehospital ship called, " he said. "I was. If you're going to relievesomebody, you'd better make it me. "

The Black Doctor pulled off his glasses and glared at Tiger. "Whateverare you talking about?" he said. 

"Just what I said. We had a conference after he'd examined the patientin the operating room, and I insisted that we call the hospital ship. Why, Dal--Dal wanted to go ahead and try to finish the case right then, and I wouldn't let him, " Tiger blundered on. "I didn't think the patientcould take it. I thought that it would be too great a risk with thefacilities we had here. "

Dal was staring at Tiger, and he felt Fuzzy suddenly shivering violentlyin his pocket. "Tiger, don't be foolish--"

The Black Doctor slammed the file down on the table again. "Is thistrue, what he's saying?" he asked Dal. 

"No, not a word of it, " Dal said. "I wanted to call the hospital ship. "

"Of course he won't admit it, " Tiger said angrily. "He's afraid you'llkick me out too, but it's true just the same in spite of what he says. "

"And what do _you_ say?" the Black Doctor said, turning to Jack Alvarez. 

"I say it's carrying this big brother act too far, " Jack said. "I didn'tnotice any conferences going on. "

"You were back at the ship getting the surgical pack, " Tiger said. "Youdidn't know anything about it. You didn't hear us talking, and we didn'tsee any reason to consult you about it. "

The Black Doctor stared from Dal to Tiger, his face growing angrier bythe minute. He jerked to his feet, and stalked back and forth across thecontrol room, glaring at them. Then he took a capsule from his pocket, gulped it down with some water, and sat back down. "I ought to throwyou both out on your ears, " he snarled. "But I am forced to controlmyself. I mustn't allow myself to get angry--" He crashed his fist downon the control panel. "I suppose that you would swear to this statementof yours if it came to that?" he asked Tiger. 

Tiger nodded and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir, I certainly would. "

"All right, " the Black Doctor said tightly. "Then you win this one. Thecode says that two opinions can properly decide any course of action. Ifyou insist that two of you agreed on this decision, then I am forced tosupport you officially. I will make a report of the incident to patrolheadquarters, and it will go on the permanent records of all three ofthis ship's crew--including my personal opinion of the decision. " Helooked up at Dal. "But be very careful, my young friend. Next time youmay not have a technicality to back you up, and I'll be watching for thefirst plausible excuse to break you, and your Green Doctor friend aswell. One misstep, and you're through. And I assure you that is not justan idle threat. I mean every word of it. "

And trembling with rage, the Black Doctor picked up the folder, wrappedhis cape around him, and marched out of the control room. 

 * * * * *

"Well, you put on a great show, " Jack Alvarez said later as theyprepared the ship for launching from the snow-swept landing field onMorua VIII. An hour before the ground had trembled as the Black Doctor'sship took off with Dr. Tanner and the Four-star Surgeon aboard; now Jackbroke the dark silence in the _Lancet_'s control room for the firsttime. "A really great show. You missed your calling, Tiger. You shouldhave been on the stage. If you think you fooled Dr. Tanner with thatstory for half a second, you're crazy, but I guess you got what youwanted. You kept your pal's cuff and collar for him, and you put a blackmark on all of our records, including mine. I hope you're satisfied. "

Tiger Martin took off his earphones and set them carefully on thecontrol panel. "You know, " he said to Jack, "you're lucky. "

"Really?"

"You're lucky I don't wipe that sneer off your face and scrub the wallswith it. And you'd better not crowd your luck, because all I need rightnow is an invitation. " He stood up, towering over the dark-haired BlueDoctor. "You bet I'm satisfied. And if you got a black mark along withthe rest of us, you earned it all the way. "

"That still doesn't make it right, " Dal said from across the room. 

"You just keep out of this for a minute, " Tiger said. "Jack has got toget a couple of things straight, and this is the time for it right now. "

Dal shook his head. "I can't keep out of it, " he said. "You got me offthe hook by shifting the blame, but you put yourself in trouble doingit. Dr. Tanner could just as well have thrown us both out of the serviceas not. "

Tiger snorted. "On what grounds? For a petty little error like this? Hewouldn't dare! You ought to read the log books of some of the other GPPships some time and see the kind of bloopers they pull without even areprimand. Don't worry, he was mad enough to throw us both out if hethought he could make it stick, but he knew he couldn't. He knew thecouncil would just review the case and reverse his decision. "

"It was still my error, not yours, " Dal protested. "I should have goneahead and finished the case on the spot. I knew it at the time, and Ijust didn't quite dare. "

"So you made a mistake, " Tiger said. "You'll make a dozen more beforeyou get your Star, and if none of them amount to any more than this one, you can be very happy. " He scowled at Jack. "It's only thanks to ourfriend here that the Black Doctor heard about this at all. A hospitalship would have come to take the patient aboard, and the local doctorswould have been quieted down and that would have been all there was toit. This business about losing a contract is a lot of nonsense. "

"Then you think this thing was just used as an excuse to get at me?"

"Ask him, " Tiger said, looking at Jack again. "Ask him why a BlackDoctor and a Four-star Surgeon turned up when we just called for ahospital ship. "

"I called the hospital ship, " Jack said sullenly. 

"But you called Dr. Tanner too, " said Tiger. "Your nose has been out ofjoint ever since Dal came aboard this ship. You've made things asmiserable for him as you could, and you just couldn't wait for a chanceto come along to try to scuttle him. "

"All right, " Jack said, "but he was making a mistake. Anybody could seethat. What if the patient had died while he was standing around waiting?Isn't that important?"

Tiger started to answer, and then threw up his hands in disgust. "It'simportant--but something else is more important. We've got a job to doon this ship, and we can't do it fighting each other. Dal misjudged acase and got in trouble. Fine, he won't make that mistake again. Itcould just as well have been you, or me. We'll all make mistakes, but ifwe can't work as a team, we're sunk. We'll all be drummed out of thepatrol before a year is out. " Tiger stopped to catch his breath, hisface flushed with anger. "Well, I'm fed up with this back-stabbingbusiness. I don't want a fight any more than Dal does, but if I have tofight, I'll fight to get it over with, and you'd better be careful. Ifyou pull any more sly ones, you'd better include me in the deal, becauseif Dal goes, I go too. And that's a promise. "

There was silence for a moment as Jack stared up at Tiger's angry face. He shook his head and blinked, as though he couldn't quite believe whathe was hearing. He looked across at Dal, and then back at Tiger again. "You mean you'd turn in your collar and cuff?" he said. 

"If it came to that. "

"I see. " Jack sat down at the control panel, still shaking his head. "Ithink you really mean it, " he said soberly. "This isn't just a bigbrother act. You really like the guy, don't you?"

"Maybe I do, " Tiger said, "but I don't like to watch anybody get kickedaround just because somebody else doesn't happen to like him. "

The control room was very quiet. Then somewhere below a motor clickedon, and the ventilation fan made a quiet whirring sound. The teletypeclicked sporadically down the corridor in the communications room. Dalsat silently, rubbing Fuzzy between the eyes and watching the twoEarthmen. It seemed suddenly as if they were talking about somebody amillion miles away, as if he were not even in the room. 

Then the Blue Doctor shrugged and rose to his feet. "All right, " he saidto Tiger. "I guess I just didn't understand where you stood, and Isuppose it wasn't my job to let the Black Doctor know about thesituation here. I don't plan to be making all the mistakes you thinkwe're going to make, and I won't take the blame for anybody else's, butI guess we've got to work together in the tight spots. " He gave Dal alop-sided grin. "Welcome aboard, " he said. "We'd better get this crateairborne before the people here come and cart it away. "

They moved then, and the subject was dropped. Half an hour later the_Lancet_ lifted through the atmospheric pull of the Moruan planet andmoved on toward the next contact point, leaving the recovering patientin the hands of the native physicians. It was not until hours later thatDal noticed that Fuzzy had stopped quivering, and was resting happilyand securely on his shoulder even when the Blue Doctor was near. 

CHAPTER 7

ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS

Once more the crew of the _Lancet_ settled down to routine, and theincident on Morua VIII seemed almost forgotten. 

But a change had come about in the relations between the three doctors, and in every way the change was for the better. If Jack Alvarez was notexactly cordial to Dal Timgar, at least he had dropped the openantagonism that he had shown before. Apparently Tiger's angry outbursthad startled Jack, as though he had never really considered that the bigEarthman might honestly be attached to his friend from Garv II, and theBlue Doctor seemed sincere in his agreement to work with Dal and Tigeras a team. 

But bit by bit Dal could sense that the change in Jack's attitude wentdeeper than the surface. "You know, I really think he was _scared_ ofme, " Dal said one night when he and Tiger were alone. "Sounds silly, butI think it's true. He pretends to be so sure of himself, but I thinkhe's as worried about doing things wrong as we are, and just won't admitit. And he really thought I was a threat when I came aboard. "

"He probably had a good thorough briefing from Black Doctor Tannerbefore he got the assignment, " Tiger said grimly. 

"Maybe--but somehow I don't think he cares for the Black Doctor muchmore than we do. "

But whatever the reason, much of the tension was gone when the _Lancet_had left the Moruan system behind. A great weight seemed to have beenlifted, and if there was not quite peace on board, at least there was anuneasy truce. Tiger and Jack were almost friendly, talking together moreoften and getting to know each other better. Jack still avoided Dal andseldom included him in conversations, but the open contempt of the firstfew weeks on the ship now seemed tempered somewhat. 

Once again the _Lancet_'s calls fell into a pattern. Landings on theoutpost planets became routine, bright spots in a lonely and wanderingexistence. The calls that came in represented few real problems. Theship stopped at one contract planet to organize a mass inoculationprogram against a parasitic infestation resembling malaria. They pausedat another place to teach the native doctors the use of some newsurgical instruments that had been developed in Hospital Earthlaboratories just for them. Frantic emergency calls usually proved toinvolve trivial problems, but once or twice potentially serioussituations were spotted early, before they could develop into realtrouble. 

And as the three doctors got used to the responsibilities of a patrolship's rounds, and grew more confident of their ability to handle theproblems thrust upon them, they found themselves working more and moreefficiently as a team. 

This was the way the General Practice Patrol was supposed to function. Each doctor had unsuspected skills that came to light. There was noquestioning Jack Alvarez's skill as a diagnostician, but it seemeduncanny to Dal the way the slender, dark-haired Earthman could listencarefully to a medical problem of an alien race on a remote planet, andthen seem to know exactly which questions to ask to draw out thesignificant information about the situation. Tiger was not nearly asquick and clever as Jack; he needed more time to ponder a question ofmedical treatment, and he would often spend long hours poring over thedata tapes before deciding what to do in a given case--but he alwaysseemed to come up with an answer, and his answers usually worked. Aboveall, Tiger's relations with the odd life-forms they encountered wereinvariably good; the creatures seemed to like him, and would follow hisinstructions faithfully. 

Dal, too, had opportunities to demonstrate that his surgical skill andjudgment was not universally faulty in spite of the trouble on MoruaVIII. More than once he succeeded in almost impossible surgical caseswhere there was no time to call for help, and little by little he couldsense Jack's growing confidence in his abilities, grudging though itmight be. 

Dal had ample time to mull over the thing that had happened on MoruaVIII and to think about the interview with Black Doctor Tannerafterward. He knew he was glad that Tiger had intervened even on thebasis of a falsehood; until Tiger had spoken up Dal had been certainthat the Black Doctor fully intended to use the incident as an excuse todischarge him from the General Practice Patrol. There was no question inhis mind that the Black Doctor's charges had been exaggerated into atrumped-up case against him, and there was no question that Tiger'sinsistence on taking the blame had saved him; he could not help beingthankful. 

Yet there was something about it that disturbed Dal, nibbling awaypersistently at his mind. He couldn't throw off the feeling that his ownacceptance of Tiger's help had been wrong. 

Part of it, he knew, was his native, inbred loathing for falsehood. Fairor unfair, Dal had always disliked lying. Among his people, the truthmight be bent occasionally, but frank lying was considered a deepdisgrace, and there was a Garvian saying that "a false tongue wins notrue friends. " Garvian traders were known throughout the Galaxy as muchfor their rigid adherence to their word as they were for the hardbargains they could drive; Dal had been enormously confused during hisfirst months on Hospital Earth by the way Earthmen seemed to acceptlying as part of their daily life, unconcerned about it as long as thefalsehood could not be proven. 

But something else about Tiger's defense of him bothered Dal far morethan the falsehood--something that had vaguely disturbed him ever sincehe had known the big Earthman, and that now seemed to elude him everytime he tried to pinpoint it. Lying in his bunk during a sleep period, Dal remembered vividly the first time he had met Tiger, early in thesecond year of medical school. Dal had almost despaired by then ofmaking friends with his hostile and resentful classmates and had begunmore and more to avoid contact with them, building up a protective shelland relying on Fuzzy for company or comfort. Then Tiger had found himeating lunch by himself in the medical school lounge one day and floppeddown in the seat beside him and began talking as if Dal were justanother classmate. Tiger's open friendliness had been like a springbreeze to Dal who was desperately lonely in this world of strangers;their friendship had grown rapidly, and gradually others in the classhad begun to thaw enough at least to be civil when Dal was around. Dalhad sensed that this change of heart was largely because of Tiger andnot because of him, yet he had welcomed it as a change from the previousintolerable coldness even though it left him feeling vaguely uneasy. Tiger was well liked by the others in the class; Dal had been gratefulmore than once when Tiger had risen in hot defense of the Garvian'sright to be studying medicine among Earthmen in the school on HospitalEarth. 

But that had been in medical school, among classmates. Somehow that hadbeen different from the incident that occurred on Morua VIII, and Dal'suneasiness grew stronger than ever the more he thought of it. Talking toTiger about it was no help; Tiger just grinned and told him to forgetit, but even in the rush of shipboard activity it stubbornly refused tobe forgotten. 

One minor matter also helped to ease the tension between the doctors asthey made their daily rounds. Tiger brought a pink dispatch sheet in toDal one day, grinning happily. "This is from the weekly news capsule, "he said. "It ought to cheer you up. "

It was a brief news note, listed under "incidental items. " "The BlackService of Pathology, " it said, "has announced that Black Doctor HugoTanner will enter Hospital Philadelphia within the next week forprophylactic heart surgery. In keeping with usual Hospital Earthadministrative policy, the Four-star Black Doctor will undergo a totalcardiac transplant to halt the Medical education administrator'sprogressively disabling heart disease. " The note went on to name thesurgeons who would officiate at the procedure. 

Dal smiled and handed back the dispatch. "Maybe it will improve histemper, " he said, "even if it does give him another fifty years ofactive life. "

"Well, at least it will take him out of _our_ hair for a while, " Tigersaid. "He won't have time to keep us under too close scrutiny. "

Which, Dal was forced to admit, did not make him too unhappy. 

Shipboard rounds kept all three doctors busy. Often, with contactlandings, calls, and studying, it seemed only a brief time from sleepperiod to sleep period, but still they had some time for minor luxuries. Dal was almost continuously shivering, with the ship kept at atemperature that was comfortable for Tiger and Jack; he missed thetropical heat of his home planet, and sometimes it seemed that he waschilled down to the marrow of his bones in spite of his coat of grayfur. With a little home-made plumbing and ingenuity, he finally managedto convert one of the ship's shower units into a steam bath. Once ortwice each day he would retire for a blissful half hour warming himselfup to Garv II normal temperatures. 

Fuzzy also became a part of shipboard routine. Once he grew accustomedto Tiger and Jack and the surroundings aboard the ship, the littlecreature grew bored sitting on Dal's shoulder and wanted to be in themiddle of things. Since the early tension had eased, he was willing tobe apart from his master from time to time, so Dal and Tiger built him aplatform that hung from the ceiling of the control room. There Fuzzywould sit and swing by the hour, blinking happily at the activity goingon all around him. 

But for all the appearance of peace and agreement, there was still anundercurrent of tension on board the _Lancet_ which flared up from timeto time when it was least expected, between Dal and Jack. It was on onesuch occasion that a major crisis almost developed, and once again Fuzzywas the center of the contention. 

Dal Timgar knew that disaster had struck at the very moment it happened, but he could not tell exactly what was wrong. All he knew was thatsomething fearful had happened to Fuzzy. 

There was a small sound-proof cubicle in the computer room, with achair, desk and a tape-reader for the doctors when they had odd momentsto spend reading up on recent medical bulletins or reviewing theirtextbooks. Dal spent more time here than the other two; the temperatureof the room could be turned up, and he had developed a certain fondnessfor the place with its warm gray walls and its soft relaxing light. Hereon the tapes were things that he could grapple with, things that hecould understand. If a problem here eluded him, he could study it outuntil he had mastered it. The hours he spent here were a welcome retreatfrom the confusing complexities of getting along with Jack and Tiger. 

These long study periods were boring for Fuzzy who wasn't muchinterested in the oxygen-exchange mechanism of the intelligent beetlesof Aldebaran VI. Frequently Dal would leave him to swing on his platformor explore about the control cabin while he spent an hour or two atthe tape-reader. Today Dal had been working for over an hour, deeply immersed in a review of the intermediary metabolism ofchlorine-breathing mammals, when something abruptly wrenched hisattention from the tape. 

It was as though a light had snapped off in his mind, or a door slammedshut. There was no sound, no warning; yet, suddenly, he felt dreadfully, frighteningly alone, as if in a split second something inside him hadbeen torn away. He sat bolt upright, staring, and he felt his skin crawland his fingers tremble as he listened, trying to spot the source of thetrouble. 

And then, almost instinctively, he knew what was wrong. He leaped tohis feet, tore open the door to the cubicle and dashed down the hallwaytoward the control room. "Fuzzy!" he shouted. "Fuzzy, _where are you?_"

Tiger and Jack were both at the control panel dictating records forfiling. They looked up in surprise as the Red Doctor burst into theroom. Fuzzy's platform was hanging empty, gently swaying back and forth. Dal peered frantically around the room. There was no sign of the smallpink creature. 

"Where is he?" he demanded. "What's happened to Fuzzy?"

Jack shrugged in disgust. "He's up on his perch. Where else?"

"He's not either! Where is he?"

Jack blinked at the empty perch. "He was there just a minute ago. I sawhim. "

"Well, he's not there now, and something's wrong!" In a panic, Dal begansearching the room, knocking over stools, scattering piles of paper, peering in every corner where Fuzzy might be concealed. 

For a moment the others sat frozen, watching him. Then Tiger jumped tohis feet. "Hold it, hold it! He probably just wandered off for a minute. He does that all the time. "

"No, it's something worse than that. " Dal was almost choking on thewords. "Something terrible has happened. I know it. "

Jack Alvarez tossed the recorder down in disgust. "You and yourmiserable pet!" he said. "I knew we shouldn't have kept him on board. "

Dal stared at Jack. Suddenly all the anger and bitterness of the pastfew weeks could no longer be held in. Without warning he hurled himselfat the Blue Doctor's throat. "Where is he?" he cried. "What have youdone with him? What have you done to Fuzzy? You've done something tohim! You've hated him every minute just like you hate me, only he'seasier to pick on. Now where is he? What have you done to him?"

Jack staggered back, trying to push the furious little Garvian away. "Wait a minute! Get away from me! I didn't do anything!"

"You did too! Where is he?"

"I don't know. " Jack struggled to break free, but there was powerfulstrength in Dal's fingers for all his slight body build. "I tell you, hewas here just a minute ago. "

Dal felt a hand grip his collar then, and Tiger was dragging them apartlike two dogs in a fight. "Now stop this!" he roared, holding them bothat arm's length. "I said _stop it_! Jack didn't do anything to Fuzzy, he's been sitting here with me ever since you went back to the cubicle. He hasn't even budged. "

"But he's _gone_, " Dal panted. "Something's happened to him. I _know_it. "

"How do you know?"

"I--I just know. I can feel it. "

"All right, then let's find him, " Tiger said. "He's got to be somewhereon the ship. If he's in trouble, we're wasting time fighting. "

Tiger let go, and Jack brushed off his shirt, his face very white. "Isaw him just a little while ago, " he said. "He was sitting up on thatsilly perch watching us, and then swinging back and forth and swingingover to that cabinet and back. "

"Well, let's get started looking, " Tiger said. 

They fanned out, with Jack still muttering to himself, and searched thecontrol room inch by inch. There was no sign of Fuzzy. Dal had controlof himself now, but he searched with a frantic intensity. "He's not inhere, " he said at last, "he must have gone out somewhere. "

"There was only one door open, " Tiger said. "The one you just camethrough, from the rear corridor. Dal, you search the computer room. Jack, check the lab and I'll go back to the reactors. "

They started searching the compartments off the rear corridor. For tenminutes there was no sound in the ship but the occasional slamming of ahatch, the grate of a desk drawer, the bang of a cabinet door. Dalworked through the maze of cubby-holes in the computer room with growinghopelessness. The frightening sense of loneliness and loss in his mindwas overwhelming; he was almost physically ill. The warm, comfortablefeeling of _contact_ that he had always had before with Fuzzy was gone. As the minutes passed, hopelessness gave way to despair. 

Then Jack gave a hoarse cry from the lab. Dal tripped and stumbled inhis haste to get down the corridor, and almost collided with Tiger atthe lab door. 

"I think we're too late, " Jack said. "He's gotten into the formalin. "

He lifted one of the glass beakers down from the shelf to the workbench. It was obvious what had happened. Fuzzy had gone exploring andhad found the laboratory a fascinating place. Several of the reagentsbottles had been knocked over as if he had been sampling them. The glasslid to the beaker of formalin which was kept for tissue specimens hadbeen pushed aside just enough to admit the little creature's two-inchgirth. Now Fuzzy lay in the bottom of the beaker, immersed in formalin, a formless, shapeless blob of sickly gray jelly. 

"Are you sure it's formalin?" Dal asked. 

Jack poured off the fluid, and the acrid smell of formaldehyde thatfilled the room answered the question. "It's no good, Dal, " he said, almost gently. "The stuff destroys protein, and that's about all he was. I'm sorry--I was beginning to like the little punk, even if he did geton my nerves. But he picked the one thing to fall into that could killhim. Unless he had some way to set up a protective barrier. .. . "

Dal took the beaker. "Get me some saline, " he said tightly. "And somenutrient broth. "

Jack pulled out two jugs and poured their contents into an empty beaker. Dal popped the tiny limp form into the beaker and began massaging it. Layers of damaged tissue peeled off in his hand, but he continuedmassaging and changing the solutions, first saline, then nutrient broth. "Get me some sponges and a blade. "

Tiger brought them in. Carefully Dal began debriding the damaged outerlayers. Jack and Tiger watched; then Jack said, "Look, there's a tingeof pink in the middle. "

Slowly the faint pink in the center grew more ruddy. Dal changedsolutions again, and sank down on a stool. "I think he'll make it, " hesaid. "He has enormous regenerative powers as long as any fragment ofhim is left. " He looked up at Jack who was still watching the creaturein the beaker almost solicitously. "I guess I made a fool of myself backthere when I jumped you. "

Jack's face hardened, as though he had been caught off guard. "I guessyou did, all right. "

"Well, I'm sorry. I just couldn't think straight. It was the first timeI'd ever been--apart from him. "

"I still say he doesn't belong aboard, " Jack said. "This is a medicalship, not a menagerie. And if you ever lay your hands on me again, you'll wish you hadn't. "

"I said I was sorry, " Dal said. 

"I heard you, " Jack said. "I just don't believe you, that's all. "

He gave Fuzzy a final glance, and then headed back to the control room. 

 * * * * *

Fuzzy recovered, a much abashed and subdued Fuzzy, clinging timorouslyto Dal's shoulder and refusing to budge for three days, but apparentlybasically unharmed by his inadvertent swim in the deadly formalin bath. Presently he seemed to forget the experience altogether, and once againtook his perch on the platform in the control room. 

But Dal did not forget. He said little to Tiger and Jack, but theincident had shaken him severely. For as long as he could remember, hehad always had Fuzzy close at hand. He had never before in his lifeexperienced the dreadful feeling of emptiness and desertion, the almostparalyzing fear and helplessness that he had felt when Fuzzy had lostcontact with him. It had seemed as though a vital part of him hadsuddenly been torn away, and the memory of the panic that followed sentchills down his back and woke him up trembling from his sleep. He wasashamed of his unwarranted attack on Jack, yet even this seemedinsignificant in comparison to the powerful fear that had been drivinghim. 

Happily, the Blue Doctor chose to let the matter rest where it was, andif anything, seemed more willing than before to be friendly. For thefirst time he seemed to take an active interest in Fuzzy, "chatting"with him when he thought no one was around, and bringing him occasionaltid-bits of food after meals were over. 

Once more life on the _Lancet_ settled back to routine, only to have itshattered by an incident of quite a different nature. It was just afterthey had left a small planet in the Procyon system, one of the routinecheck-in points, that they made contact with the Garvian trading ship. 

Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before the signalscame in, and could hardly contain his excitement. He had not seen afellow countryman for years except for an occasional dull luncheon withthe Garvian ambassador to Hospital Earth during medical school days. Thethought of walking the corridors of a Garvian trading ship again broughtan overwhelming wave of homesickness. He was so excited he could hardlywait for Jack to complete the radio-sighting formalities. "What ship isshe?" he wanted to know. "What house?"

Jack handed him the message transcript. "The ship is the _Teegar_, " hesaid. "Flagship of the SinSin trading fleet. They want permission toapproach us. "

Dal let out a whoop. "Then it's a space trader, and a big one. You'venever seen ships like these before. "

Tiger joined them, staring at the message transcript. "A SinSin ship!Send them the word, Jack, and be quick, before they get disgusted andmove on. "

Jack sent out the approach authorization, and they watched with growingexcitement as the great trading vessel began its close-approachmaneuvers. 

The name of the house of SinSin was famous throughout the galaxy. It wasone of the oldest and largest of the great trading firms that had builtGarv II into its position of leadership in the Confederation, and theSinSin ships had penetrated to every corner of the galaxy, to everyknown planet harboring an intelligent life-form. 

Tiger and Jack had seen the multitudes of exotic products in theHospital Earth stores that came from the great Garvian ships on theirfrequent visits. But this was more than a planetary trader loaded with afew items for a single planet. The space traders roamed from star systemto star system, their holds filled with treasures beyond number. Suchships as these might be out from Garv II for decades at a time, tempting any ship they met with the magnificent variety of wares theycarried. 

Slowly the trader approached, and Dal took the speaker, addressing thecommander of the _Teegar_ in Garvian. "This is the General PracticePatrol Ship _Lancet_, " he said, "out from Hospital Earth with threephysicians aboard, including a countryman of yours. "

"Is that Dal Timgar?" the reply came back. "By the Seven Moons! We'dheard that there was now a Garvian physician, and couldn't believe ourears. Come aboard, all of you, you'll be welcome. We'll send over alifeboat!"

The _Teegar_ was near now, a great gleaming ship with the sign of thehouse of SinSin on her hull. A lifeboat sprang from a launching rack andspeared across to the _Lancet_. Moments later the three doctors wereclimbing into the sleek little vessel and moving across the void ofspace to the huge Garvian ship. 

It was like stepping from a jungle outpost village into a magnificent, glittering city. The Garvian ship was enormous; she carried a crew ofseveral hundred, and the wealth and luxury of the ship took theEarthmen's breath away. The cabins and lounges were paneled withexpensive fabrics and rare woods, the furniture inlaid with preciousmetals. Down the long corridors goods of the traders were laid out inresplendent display, surpassing the richest show cases in the shops onHospital Earth. 

They received a royal welcome from the commander of the _Teegar_, anaged, smiling little Garvian with a pink fuzz-ball on his shoulder thatcould have been Fuzzy's twin. He bowed low to Tiger and Jack, leadingthem into the reception lounge where a great table was spread with foodsand pastries of all varieties. Then he turned to Dal and embraced himlike a long-lost brother. "Your father Jai Timgar has long been anhonored friend of the house of SinSin, and anyone of the house of Timgaris the same as my own son and my son's son! But this collar! This cuff!Is it really possible that a man of Garv has become a physician ofHospital Earth?"

Dal touched Fuzzy to the commander's fuzz-ball in the ancient Garviangreeting. "It's possible, and true, " he said. "I studied there. I am theRed Doctor on this patrol ship. "

"Ah, but this is good, " the commander said. "What better way to draw ourworlds together, eh? But come, you must look and see what we have in ourstorerooms, feast your eyes on the splendors we carry. For all of you, athousand wonders are to be found here. "

Jack hesitated as the commander led them back toward the displaycorridors. "We'd be glad to see the ship, but you should know thatpatrol ship physicians have little money to spend. "

"Who speaks of money?" the commander cried. "Did I speak of it? Come andlook! Money is nothing. The Garvian traders are not mere money-changers. Look and enjoy; if there is something that strikes your eye, somethingthat would fulfill the desires of your heart, it will be yours. " He gaveDal a smile and a sly wink. "Surely our brother here has told you manytimes of the wonders to be seen in a space trader, and terms can bearranged that will make any small purchase a painless pleasure. "

He led them off, like a head of state conducting visiting dignitaries ona tour, with a retinue of Garvian underlings trailing behind them. Fortwo delirious hours they wandered the corridors of the great ship, staring hungrily at the dazzling displays. They had been away fromHospital Earth and its shops and stores for months; now it seemed theywere walking through an incredible treasure-trove stocked witheverything that they could possibly have wanted. 

For Jack there was a dress uniform, specially tailored for a physicianin the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the insignia woven into the cloth withgold and platinum thread. Reluctantly he turned away from it, a luxuryhe could never dream of affording. For Tiger, who had been muttering forweeks about getting out of condition in the sedentary life of the ship, there was a set of bar bells and gymnasium equipment ingeniouslydesigned to collapse into a unit no larger than one foot square, yetopening out into a completely equipped gym. Dal's eyes glittered at thenew sets of surgical instruments, designed to the most rigid HospitalEarth specifications, which appeared almost without his asking to seethem. There were clothes and games, precious stones and exotic rings, watches set with Arcturian dream-stones, and boots inlaid with silver. 

They made their way through the corridors, reluctant to leave onedisplay for the next. Whenever something caught their eyes, thecommander snapped his fingers excitedly, and the item was unobtrusivelynoted down by one of the underlings. Finally, exhausted and glutted justfrom looking, they turned back toward the reception room. 

"The things are beautiful, " Tiger said wistfully, "but impossible. Still, you were very kind to take your time--"

"Time? I have nothing but time. " The commander smiled again at Dal. "Andthere is an old Garvian proverb that to the wise man 'impossible' has nomeaning. Wait, you will see!"

They came out into the lounge, and the doctors stopped short inamazement. Spread out before them were all of the items that hadcaptured their interest earlier. 

"But this is ridiculous, " Jack said staring at the dress uniform. "Wecouldn't possibly buy these things, it would take our salaries fortwenty years to pay for them. "

"Have we mentioned price even once?" the commander protested. "You arethe crewmates of one of our own people! We would not dream of settingprices that we would normally set for such trifles as these. And as forterms, you have no worry. Take the goods aboard your ship, they arealready yours. We have drawn up contracts for you which require nopayment whatever for five years, and then payments of only a fiftieth ofthe value for each successive year. And for each of you, with thecompliments of the house of SinSin, a special gift at no chargewhatever. "

He placed in Jack's hands a small box with the lid tipped back. Againsta black velvet lining lay a silver star, and the official insignia of aStar Physician in the Blue Service. "You cannot wear it yet, of course, "the commander said. "But one day you will need it. "

Jack blinked at the jewel-like star. "You are very kind, " he said. "I--Imean perhaps--" He looked at Tiger, and then at the display of goods onthe table. "Perhaps there are _some_ things--"

Already two of the Garvian crewmen were opening the lock to thelifeboat, preparing to move the goods aboard. Then Dal Timgar spoke upsharply. "I think you'd better wait a moment, " he said. 

"And for you, " the commander continued, turning to Dal so smoothly thatthere seemed no break in his voice at all, "as one of our own people, and an honored son of Jai Timgar, who has been kind to the house ofSinSin for many years, I have something out of the ordinary. I'm sureyour crewmates would not object to a special gift at my personalexpense. "

The commander lifted a scarf from the table and revealed the glitteringset of surgical instruments, neatly displayed in a velvet-lined carryingcase. The commander took it up from the table and thrust it into Dal'shands. "It is yours, my friend. And for this, there will be no contractwhatever. "

Dal stared down at the instruments. They were beautiful. He longed justto touch them, to hold them in his hands, but he shook his head and setthe case back on the table. He looked up at Tiger and Jack. "You shouldbe warned that the prices on these goods are four times what they oughtto be, and the deferred-payment contracts he wants you to sign willpermit as much as 24 per cent interest on the unpaid balance, with noclosing-out clause. That means you would be paying many times the statedprice for the goods before the contract is closed. You can go ahead andsign if you want but understand what you're signing. "

The Garvian commander stared at him, and then shook his head, laughing. "Of course your friend is not serious, " he said. "These prices can becompared on any planet and you will see their fairness. Here, read thecontracts, see what they say and decide for yourselves. " He held out asheaf of papers. 

"The contracts may sound well enough, " Dal said, "but I'm telling youwhat they actually say. "

Jack looked stricken. "But surely just one or two things--"

Tiger shook his head. "Dal knows what he's talking about. I don't thinkwe'd better buy anything at all. "

The Garvian commander turned to Dal angrily. "What are you telling them?There is nothing false in these contracts!"

"I didn't say there was. I just can't see them taking a beating withtheir eyes shut, that's all. Your contracts are legal enough, but theprices and terms are piracy, and you know it. "

The commander glared at him for a moment. Then he turned awayscornfully. "So what I have heard is true, after all, " he said. "Youreally have thrown in your lot with these pill-peddlers, these idiotsfrom Earth who can't even wipe their noses without losing in a trade. "He signaled the lifeboat pilot. "Take them back to their ship, we'rewasting our time. There are better things to do than to deal withtraitors. "

The trip back to the _Lancet_ was made in silence. Dal could sense thepilot's scorn as he dumped them off in their entrance lock, and dashedback to the _Teegar_ with the lifeboat. Gloomily Jack and Tiger followedDal into the control room, a drab little cubby-hole compared to the_Teegar_'s lounge. 

"Well, it was fun while it lasted, " Jack said finally, looking up atDal. "But the way that guy slammed you, I wish we'd never gone. "

"I know, " Dal said. "The commander just thought he saw a perfect setup. He figured you'd never question the contracts if I backed him up. "

"It would have been easy enough. Why didn't you?"

Dal looked at the Blue Doctor. "Maybe I just don't like people who giveaway surgical sets, " he said. "Remember, I'm not a Garvian trader anymore. I'm a doctor from Hospital Earth. "

Moments later, the great Garvian ship was gone, and the red light wasblinking on the call board. Tiger started tracking down the call whileJack went back to work on the daily log book and Dal set up food fordinner. The pleasant dreams were over; they were back in the harness ofpatrol ship doctors once again. 

Jack and Dal were finishing dinner when Tiger came back with a puzzledfrown on his face. "Finally traced that call. At least I think I did. Anybody ever hear of a star called 31 Brucker?"

"Brucker?" Jack said. "It isn't on the list of contracts. What's thetrouble?"

"I'm not sure, " Tiger said. "I'm not even certain if it's a call or not. Come on up front and see what you think. "

CHAPTER 8

PLAGUE!

In the control room the interstellar radio and teletype-translator weresilent. The red light on the call board was still blinking; Tiger turnedit off with a snap. "Here's the message that just came in, as near as Ican make out, " he said, "and if you can make sense of it, you're wayahead of me. "

The message was a single word, teletyped in the center of a bluedispatch sheet:

 GREETINGS

"This is all?" Jack said. 

"That's every bit of it. They repeated it half a dozen times, just likethat. "

"_Who_ repeated it?" Dal asked. "Where are the identification symbols?"

"There weren't any, " said Tiger. "Our own computer designated 31 Bruckerfrom the direction and intensity of the signal. The question is, what dowe do?"

The message stared up at them cryptically. Dal shook his head. "Doesn'tgive us much to go on, that's certain. Even the location could be wrongif the signal came in on an odd frequency or from a long distance. Let'sbeam back at the same direction and intensity and see what happens. "

Tiger took the earphones and speaker, and turned the signal beam tocoincide with the direction of the incoming message. 

"We have your contact. Can you hear me? Who are you and what do youwant?"

There was a long delay and they thought the contact was lost. Then avoice came whispering through the static. "Where is your ship now? Areyou near to us?"

"We need your co-ordinates in order to tell, " Tiger said. "Who are you?"

Again a long pause and a howl of static. Then: "If you are far away itwill be too late. We have no time left, we are dying. .. . "

Abruptly the voice message broke off and co-ordinates began comingthrough between bursts of static. Tiger scribbled them down, piecingthem together through several repetitions. "Check these out fast, " hetold Jack. "This sounds like real trouble. " He tossed Dal another pairof earphones and turned back to the speaker. "Are you a contractplanet?" he signaled. "Do we have a survey on you?"

There was a much longer pause. Then the voice came back, "No, we have nocontract. We are all dying, but if you must have a contract to come. .. . "

"Not at all, " Tiger sent back. "We're coming. Keep your frequency open. We will contact again when we are closer. "

He tossed down the earphones and looked excitedly at Dal. "Did you hearthat? A planet calling for help, with no Hospital Earth contract!"

"They sound desperate, " Dal said. "We'd better go there, contract or nocontract. "

"Of course we'll go there, you idiot. See if Jack has those co-ordinatescharted, and start digging up information on them, everything you canfind. We need all of the dope we can get and we need it fast. This isour golden chance to seal a contract with a new planet. "

All three of the doctors fell to work trying to identify the mysteriouscaller. Dal began searching the information file for data on 31 Brucker, punching all the reference tags he could think of, as well as thegalactic co-ordinates of the planet. He could hardly control his fingersas the tapes with possible references began plopping down into theslots. Tiger was right; this was almost too good to be true. When aplanet without a medical service contract called a GPP Ship for help, there was always hope that a brand new contract might be signed if thecall was successful. And no greater honor could come to a patrol craftcrew than to be the originators of a new contract for Hospital Earth. 

But there were problems in dealing with uncontacted planets. Many starsystems had never been explored by ships of the Confederation. Manyraces, like Earthmen at the time their star-drive was discovered, had noinkling of the existence of a Galactic Confederation of worlds. Theremight be no information whatever about the special anatomical andphysiological characteristics of the inhabitants of an uncontactedplanet, and often a patrol crew faced insurmountable difficulties, coming in blind to solve a medical problem. 

Dal had his information gathered first--a disappointingly small amountindeed. Among the billions of notes on file in the _Lancet_'s data bank, there were only two scraps of data available on the 31 Brucker system. 

"Is this all you could find?" Tiger said, staring at the informationslips. 

"There's just nothing else there, " Dal said. "This one is a descriptionand classification of the star, and it doesn't sound like the one whowrote it had even been near it. "

"He hadn't, " Tiger said. "This is a routine radio-telescopic surveyreport. The star is a red giant. Big and cold, with three--possiblyfour--planets inside the outer envelope of the star itself, and only oneoutside it. Nothing about satellites. None of the planets thought to behabitable by man. What's the other item?"

"An exploratory report on the outer planet, done eight hundred yearsago. Says it's an Earth-type planet, and not much else. Gives referenceto the full report in the Confederation files. Not a word about anintelligent race living there. "

"Well, maybe Jack's got a bit more for us, " Tiger said. "If the placehas been explored, there must be _some_ information about theinhabitants. "

But Jack also came up with a blank. Central Records on Hospital Earthsent back a physical description of a tiny outer planet of the star, with a thin oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere, very little water, and enoughmethane mixed in to make the atmosphere deadly to Earthmen. 

"Then there's never been a medical service contract?" Tiger asked. 

"Contract!" Jack said. "It doesn't even say there are any people there. Not a word about any kind of life form. "

"Well, that's ridiculous, " Dal said. "If we're getting messages fromthere, somebody must be sending them. But if a Confederation shipexplored there, there's a way to find out. How soon can we convert tostar-drive?"

"As soon as we can get strapped down, " Tiger said. 

"Then send our reconversion co-ordinates to the Confederationheadquarters on Garv II and request the Confederation records on theplace. "

Jack stared at him. "You mean just ask to see Confederation records? Wecan't do that, they'd skin us alive. Those records are closed toeveryone except full members of the Confederation. "

"Tell them it's an emergency, " Dal said. "If they want to be legal aboutit, give them my Confederation serial number. Garv II is a member of theConfederation, and I'm a native-born citizen. "

Tiger got the request off while Jack and Dal strapped down for theconversion to Koenig drive. Five minutes later Tiger joined them, grinning from ear to ear. "Didn't even have to pull rank, " he said. "When they started to argue, I just told them it was an emergency, andif they didn't let us see any records they had, we would file theirrefusal against claims that might come up later. They quit arguing. We'll have the records as soon as we reconvert. "

 * * * * *

The star that they were seeking was a long distance from the currentlocation of the _Lancet_. The ship was in Koenig drive for hours beforeit reconverted, and even Dal was beginning to feel the first pangs ofdrive-sickness before they felt the customary jolting vibration of thechange to normal space, and saw bright stars again in the viewscreen. 

The star called 31 Brucker was close then. It was indeed a red giant;long tenuous plumes of gas spread out for hundreds of millions of mileson all sides of its glowing red core. This mammoth star did not look socold now, as they stared at it in the viewscreen, yet among the familyof stars it was a cold, dying giant with only a few moments of life lefton the astronomical time scale. From the _Lancet_'s position, noplanets at all were visible to the naked eye, but with the telescopeJack soon found two inside the star's envelope of gas and one tiny oneoutside. They would have to be searched for, and the one that they werehoping to reach located before centering and landing maneuvers could bebegun. 

Already the radio was chattering with two powerful signals coming in. One came from the Galactic Confederation headquarters on Garv II; theother was a good clear signal from very close range, unquestionablybeamed to them from the planet in distress. 

They watched as the Confederation report came clacking off the teletype, and they stared at it unbelieving. 

"It just doesn't make sense, " Jack said. "There _must_ be intelligentcreatures down there. They're sending radio signals. "

"Then why a report like this?" Tiger said. "This was filed by a routineexploratory ship that came here eight hundred years ago. You can't tellme that any intelligent race could develop from scratch in less thaneight centuries' time. "

Dal picked up the report and read it again. "This red giant star, " heread, "was studied in the usual fashion. It was found to have sevenplanets, all but one lying within the tenuous outer gas envelope of thestar itself. The seventh planet has an atmosphere of its own, andtravels an orbit well outside the star surface. This planet was selectedfor landing and exploration. "

Following this was a long, detailed and exceedingly dull description ofthe step-by-step procedure followed by a Confederation exploratory shipmaking a first landing on a barren planet. There was a description ofthe atmosphere, the soil surface, the land masses and major waterbodies. Physically, the planet was a desert, hot and dry, and barren ofvegetation excepting in two or three areas of jungle along the equator. "The planet is inhabited by numerous small unintelligent animal specieswhich seem well-adapted to the semi-arid conditions. Of higher animalsand mammals only two species were discovered, and of these the mosthighly developed was an erect biped with an integrated central nervoussystem and the intelligence level of a Garvian _drachma_. "

"How small is that?" Jack said. 

"Idiot-level, " Dal said glumly. "I. Q. Of about 20 on the human scale. Iguess the explorers weren't much impressed; they didn't even put theplanet down for a routine colonization survey. "

"Well, _something_ has happened down there since then. Idiots can'tbuild interstellar radios. " Jack turned to Tiger. "Are you gettingthem?"

Tiger nodded. A voice was coming over the speaker, hesitant andapologetic, using the common tongue of the Galactic Confederation. "Howsoon can you come?" the voice was asking clearly, still with the soundof great reticence. "There is not much time. "

"But who are you?" Tiger asked. "What's wrong down there?"

"We are sick, dying, thousands of us. But if you have other work that ismore pressing, we would not want to delay you--"

Jack shook his head, frowning. "I don't get this, " he said. "What arethey afraid of?"

Tiger spoke into the microphone again. "We will be glad to help, but weneed information about you. You have our position--can you send up aspokesman to tell us your problem?"

A long pause, and then the voice came back wearily. "It will be done. Stand by to receive him. "

Tiger snapped off the radio receiver and looked up triumphantly at theothers. "Now we're getting somewhere. If the people down there can senda ship out with a spokesman to tell us about their troubles, we've got achance to sew up a contract, and that could mean a Star for every one ofus. "

"Yes, but who are they?" Dal said. "And where were they when theConfederation ship was here?"

"I don't know, " Jack said, "but I'll bet you both that we have quite atime finding out. "

"Why?" Tiger said. "What do you mean?"

"I mean we'd better be very careful here, " Jack said darkly. "I don'tknow about you, but I think this whole business has a very strangesmell. "

 * * * * *

There was nothing strange about the Bruckian ship when it finally cameinto view. It was a standard design, surface-launching interplanetarycraft, with separated segments on either side suggesting atomic engines. They saw the side jets flare as the ship maneuvered to come in alongsidethe _Lancet_. 

Grapplers were thrown out to bind the emissary ship to the _Lancet_'shull, and Jack threw the switches to open the entrance lock anddecontamination chambers. They had taken pains to describe the interioratmosphere of the patrol ship and warn the spokesman to keep himself ina sealed pressure suit. On the intercom viewscreens they saw the smallsuited figure cross from his ship into the _Lancet_'s lock, and watchedas the sprays of formalin washed down the outside of the suit. 

Moments later the creature stepped out of the decontamination chamber. He was small and humanoid, with tiny fragile bones and pale, hairlessskin. He stood no more than four feet high. More than anything else, helooked like a very intelligent monkey with a diminutive space suitfitting his fragile body. When he spoke the words came through thetranslator in English; but Dal recognized the flowing syllables of theuniversal language of the Galactic Confederation. 

"How do you know the common tongue?" he said. "There is no record ofyour people in our Confederation, yet you use our own universallanguage. "

The Bruckian nodded. "We know the language well. My people dread outsidecontact--it is a racial characteristic--but we hear the Confederationbroadcasts and have learned to understand the common tongue. " Thespace-suited stranger looked at the doctors one by one. "We also know ofthe good works of the ships from Hospital Earth, and now we appeal toyou. "

"Why?" Jack said. "You gave us no information, nothing to go on. "

"There was no time, " the creature said. "Death is stalking our land, andthe people are falling at their plows. Thousands of us are dying, tensof thousands. Even I am infected and soon will be dead. Unless you canfind a way to help us quickly, it will be too late, and my people willbe wiped from the face of the planet. "

Jack looked grimly at Tiger and Dal. "Well, " he said, "I guess thatanswers our question, all right. It looks as if we have a plague planeton our hands, whether we like it or not. "

CHAPTER 9

THE INCREDIBLE PEOPLE

Slowly and patiently they drew the story from the emissary from theseventh planet of 31 Brucker. 

The small, monkey-like creature was painfully shy; he required constantreassurance that the doctors did not mind being called, that they wantedto help, and that a contract was not necessary in an emergency. Even atthat the spokesman was reluctant to give details about the plague andabout his stricken people. Every bit of information had to be extractedwith patient questioning. 

By tacit consent the doctors did not even mention the strange fact thatthis very planet had been explored by a Confederation ship eight hundredyears before and no sign of intelligent life had been found. The littlecreature before them seemed ready to turn and bolt at the first hint ofattack or accusation. But bit by bit, a picture of the current situationon the planet developed. 

Whoever they were and wherever they had been when the Confederation shiphad landed, there was unquestionably an intelligent race now inhabitingthis lonely planet in the outer reaches of the solar system of 31Brucker. There was no doubt of their advancement; a few well-selectedquestions revealed that they had control of atomic power, a workingunderstanding of the nature and properties of contra-terrene matter, anda workable star drive operating on the same basic principle as Earth'sKoenig drive but which the Bruckians had never really used because oftheir shyness and fear of contact with other races. They also had anexcellent understanding, thanks to their eavesdropping on Confederationinterstellar radio chatter, of the existence and functions of theGalactic Confederation of worlds, and of Hospital Earth's work asphysician to the galaxy. 

But about Bruckian anatomy, physiology or biochemistry, the littleemissary would tell them nothing. He seemed genuinely frightened whenthey pressed him about the physical make-up of his people, as thoughtheir questions were somehow scraping a raw nerve. He insisted that hispeople knew nothing about the nature of the plague that had strickenthem, and the doctors could not budge him an inch from his stand. 

But a plague had certainly struck. 

It had begun six months before, striking great masses of the people. Ithad walked the streets of the cities and the hills and valleys of thecountryside. First three out of ten had been stricken, then four, thenfive. The course of the disease, once started, was invariably the same:first illness, weakness, loss of energy and interest, then gradually afading away of intelligent responses, leaving thousands of creatureswalking blank-faced and idiot-like about the streets and countryside. Ultimately even the ability to take food was lost, and after an intervalof a week or so, death invariably ensued. 

Finally the doctors retired to the control room for a puzzledconference. "It's got to be an organism of some sort that's doing it, "Dal said. "There couldn't be an illness like this that wasn't caused bysome kind of a parasitic germ or virus. "

"But how do we know?" Jack said. "We know nothing about these peopleexcept what we can see. We're going to have to do a complete biochemicaland medical survey before we can hope to do anything. "

"But we aren't equipped for a real survey, " Tiger protested. 

"We've got to do it anyway, " Jack said. "If we can just learn enough tobe sure it's an infectious illness, we might stand a chance of finding adrug that will cure it. Or at least a way to immunize the ones thataren't infected yet. If this is a virus infection, we might only need tofind an antibody for inoculation to stop it in its tracks. But first weneed a good look at the planet and some more of the people--bothinfected and healthy ones. We'd better make arrangements as fast as wecan. "

An hour later they had reached an agreement with the Bruckian emissary. The _Lancet_ would be permitted to land on the planet's surface as soonas the doctors were satisfied that it was safe. For the time being theinitial landings would be made in the patrol ship's lifeboats, with the_Lancet_ in orbit a thousand miles above the surface. Unquestionably thefirst job was diagnosis, discovering the exact nature of the illness andstudying the afflicted people. This responsibility rested squarely onJack's shoulders; he was the diagnostician, and Dal and Tiger willinglyyielded to him in organizing the program. 

It was decided that Jack and Tiger would visit the planet's surface atonce, while Dal stayed on the ship and set up the reagents andexamining techniques that would be needed to measure the basic physicaland biochemical characteristics of the Bruckians. 

Yet in all the excitement of planning, Dal could not throw off thelingering shadow of doubt in his mind, some instinctive voice of cautionthat seemed to say _watch out, be careful, go slowly! This may not bewhat it seems to be; you may be walking into a trap. .. . _

But it was only a faint voice, and easy to thrust aside as the planningwent ahead full speed. 

 * * * * *

It did not take very long for the crew of the _Lancet_ to realize thatthere was something very odd indeed about the small, self-effacinginhabitants of 31 Brucker VII. 

In fact, "odd" was not really quite the proper word for these creaturesat all. No one knew better than the doctors of Hospital Earth thatoddness was the rule among the various members of the galacticcivilization. All sorts and varieties of life-forms had been discovered, described and studied, each with its singular differences, each withcertain similarities, and each quite "odd" in reference to any of theothers. 

In Dal this awareness of the oddness and difference of other races wasparticularly acute. He knew that to Tiger and Jack he himself seemedodd, both anatomically and in other ways. His fine gray fur and hisfour-fingered hands set him apart from them--he would never be mistakenfor an Earthman, even in the densest fog. But these were comprehensibledifferences. His close attachment to Fuzzy was something else, and stillseemed beyond their ability to understand. 

He had spent one whole evening patiently trying to make Jack understandjust how his attachment to the little pink creature was more than justthe fondness of a man for his dog. 

"Well, what would you call it, then?"

"Symbiosis is probably the best word for it, " Dal had replied. "Twolife-forms live together, and each one helps the other--that's allsymbiosis is. Together each one is better off than either one would bealone. We all of us live in symbiosis with the bacteria in our digestivetracts, don't we? We provide them with a place to live and grow, andthey help us digest our food. It's a kind of a partnership--and Fuzzyand I are partners in the same sort of way. "

Jack had argued, and then lost his temper, and finally grudgingly agreedthat he supposed he would have to tolerate it even if it didn't makesense to him. 

But the creatures on 31 Brucker VII were "odd" far beyond the reasonablelimits of oddness--so far beyond it that the doctors could not believethe things that their eyes and their instruments were telling them. 

When Tiger and Jack came back to the _Lancet_ after their first trip tothe planet's surface, they were visibly shaken. Geographically, they hadfound it just as it had been described in the exploratory reports--abarren, desert land with only a few large islands of vegetation in theequatorial regions. 

"But the people!" Jack said. "They don't fit into _any_ kind of pattern. They've got houses--at least I guess you'd call them houses--but everyone of them is like every other one, and they're all crammed together intight little bunches, with nothing for miles in between. They've got anadvanced technology, a good communications system, manufacturingtechniques and everything, but they just don't use them. "

"It's more than that, " Tiger said. "They don't seem to _want_ to usethem. "

"Well, it doesn't add up, to me, " Jack said. "There are thousands oftowns and cities down there, all of them miles apart, and yet they hadto go dig an old rusty jet scooter out of storage and get the motorrebuilt just specially to take us from one place to another. I knowthings can get disorganized with a plague in the land, but this plaguejust hasn't been going on that long. "

"What about the sickness?" Dal asked. "Is it as bad as it sounded?"

"Worse, if anything, " Tiger said gloomily. "They're dying by thethousands, and I hope we got those suits of ours decontaminated, becauseI don't want any part of this disease. "

Graphically, he described the conditions they had found among thestricken people. There was no question that a plague was stalking theland. In the rutted mud roads of the villages and towns the dead werepiled in gutters, and in all of the cities a deathly stillness hung overthe streets. Those who had not yet succumbed to the illness were nursingand feeding the sick ones, but these unaffected ones were growingscarcer and scarcer. The whole living population seemed resigned tohopelessness, hardly noticing the strangers from the patrol ship. 

But worst of all were those in the final stages of the disease, wandering vaguely about the street, their faces blank and their jawsslack as though they were living in a silent world of their own, cut offfrom contact with the rest. "One of them almost ran into me, " Jack said. "I was right in front of him, and he didn't see me or hear me. "

"But don't they have _any_ knowledge of antisepsis or isolation?" Dalasked. 

Tiger shook his head. "Not that we could see. They don't know what'scausing this sickness. They think that it's some kind of curse, andthey never dreamed that it might be kept from spreading. "

Already Tiger and Jack had taken the first routine steps to deal withthe sickness. They gave orders to move the unaffected people in everytown and village into isolated barracks and stockades. For half a dayTiger tried to explain ways to prevent the spread of a bacteria orvirus-borne disease. The people had stared at him as if he were talkinggibberish; finally he gave up trying to explain, and just laid downrules which the people were instructed to follow. Together they hadcollected standard testing specimens of body fluids and tissue from bothhealthy and afflicted Bruckians, and come back to the _Lancet_ for abreather. 

Now all three doctors began work on the specimens. Cultures wereinoculated with specimens from respiratory tract, blood and tissue takenfrom both sick and well. Half a dozen fatal cases were brought to theship under specially controlled conditions for autopsy examination, toreveal both the normal anatomical characteristics of this strange raceof people and the damage the disease was doing. Down on the surfaceTiger had already inoculated a dozen of the healthy ones with variousradioactive isotopes to help outline the normal metabolism andbiochemistry of the people. After a short sleep period on the _Lancet_, he went back down alone to follow up on these, leaving Dal and Jack tocarry on the survey work in the ship's lab. 

It was a gargantuan task that faced them. They knew that in any race ofcreatures they could not hope to recognize the abnormal unless they knewwhat the normal was. That was the sole reason for the extensivebiomedical surveys that were done on new contract planets. Under normalconditions, a survey crew with specialists in physiology, biochemistry, anatomy, radiology, pharmacology and pathology might spend months oreven years on a new planet gathering base-line information. But herethere was neither time nor facilities for such a study. Even in thetwenty-four hours since the patrol ship arrived, the number of dead hadincreased alarmingly. 

Alone on the ship, Dal and Jack found themselves working as a wellorganized team. There was no time here for argument or duplicatedefforts; everything the two doctors did was closely co-ordinated. Jackseemed to have forgotten his previous antagonism completely. There was acrisis here, and more work than three men could possibly do in the timeavailable. "You handle anatomy and pathology, " Jack told Dal at thebeginning. "You can get the picture five times as fast as I can, andyour pathology slides are better than most commercial ones. I can do thebest job on the cultures, once I get the growth media all set up. "

Bit by bit they divided the labor, checking in with Tiger by radio onthe results of the isotopes studies he was running on the planet'ssurface. Bit by bit the data was collected, and Earthman and Garvianworked more closely than ever before as the task that faced themappeared more and more formidable. 

But the results of their tests made no sense whatever. Tiger returned tothe ship after forty-eight hours with circles under his eyes, looking asthough he had been trampled in a crowd. "No sleep, that's all, " he saidbreathlessly as he crawled out of his decontaminated pressure suit. "Notime for it. I swear I ran those tests a dozen times and I still didn'tget any answers that made sense. "

"The results you were sending up sounded plenty strange, " Jack said. "What was the trouble?"

"I don't know, " Tiger said, "but if we're looking for a biologicalpattern here, we haven't found it yet as far as I can see. "

"No, we certainly haven't, " Dal exploded. "I thought I was doingsomething wrong somehow, because these blood chemistries I've been doinghave been ridiculous. I can't even find a normal level for blood sugar, and as for the enzyme systems. .. . " He tossed a sheaf of notes down onthe counter in disgust. "I don't see how these people could even bealive, with a botched-up metabolism like this! I've never heard ofanything like it. "

"What kind of pathology did you find?" Tiger wanted to know. 

"Nothing, " Dal said. "Nothing at all. I did autopsies on the six thatyou brought up here and made slides of every different kind of tissue Icould find. The anatomy is perfectly clear cut, no objections there. These people are very similar to Earth-type monkeys in structure, withheart and lungs and vocal cords and all. But I can't find any reason whythey should be dying. Any luck with the cultures?"

Jack shook his head glumly. "No growth on any of the plates. At first Ithought I had something going, but if I did, it died, and I can't findany sign of it in the filtrates. "

"But we've got to have _something_ to work on, " Tiger said desperately. "Look, there are some things that always measure out the same in _any_intelligent creature no matter where he comes from. That's the wholebasis of galactic medicine. Creatures may develop and adapt in differentways, but the basic biochemical reactions are the same. "

"Not here, they aren't, " Dal said. "Take a look at these tests!"

They carried the heap of notes they had collected out into the controlroom and began sifting and organizing the data, just as a survey teamwould do, trying to match it with the pattern of a thousand otherliving creatures that had previously been studied. Hours passed, andthey were farther from an answer than when they began. 

Because this data did not fit a pattern. It was _different_. No twoindividuals showed the same reactions. In every test the results wereeither flatly impossible or completely the opposite of what wasexpected. 

Carefully they retraced their steps, trying to pinpoint what could begoing wrong. 

"There's _got_ to be a laboratory error, " Dal said wearily. "We musthave slipped up somewhere. "

"But I don't see where, " Jack said. "Let's see those culture tubesagain. And put on a pot of coffee. I can't even think straight anymore. "

Of the three of them, Jack was beginning to show the strain the most. This was his special field, the place where he was supposed to excel, and nothing was happening. Reports coming up from the planet werediscouraging; the isolation techniques they had tried to institute didnot seem to be working, and the spread of the plague was accelerating. The communiqués from the Bruckians were taking on a note of desperation. 

Jack watched each report with growing apprehension. He moved restlesslyfrom lab to control room, checking and rechecking things, trying to findsome sign of order in the chaos. 

"Try to get some sleep, " Dal urged him. "A couple of hours will freshenyou up a hundred per cent. "

"I can't, I've already tried it, " Jack said. 

"Go ahead. Tiger and I can keep working on these things for a while. "

"No, no, it's not that, " Jack said. "Without a diagnosis, we can't do athing. Until we have that, our hands are tied, and we aren't evengetting close to it. We don't even know whether this is a bacteria, or avirus, or what. Maybe the Bruckians are right. Maybe it's a curse. "

"I don't think the Black Service of Pathology would buy that for adiagnosis, " Tiger said sourly. 

"The Black Service would choke on it--but what other answer do we have?You two have been doing all you can, but diagnosis is _my_ job. I'msupposed to be good at it, but the more we dig into this, the fartheraway we seem to get. "

"Do you want to call for help?" Tiger said. 

Jack shook his head helplessly. "I'm beginning to think we should havecalled for help a long time ago, " he said. "We're into this over ourheads now and we're still going down. At the rate those people are dyingdown there, we don't have time to call for help now. " He stared at thepiles of notes on the desk and his face was very white. "I don't know, Ijust don't know, " he said. "The diagnosis on this thing should have beenduck soup. I thought it was going to be a real feather in my cap, justwalking in and nailing it down in a few hours. Well, I'm whipped. Idon't know what to do. If either of you can think of an answer, it's allyours, and I'll admit it to Black Doctor Tanner himself. "

 * * * * *

It was bitter medicine for Blue Doctor Jack Alvarez to swallow, but thatfact gave no pleasure to Dal or Tiger now. They were as baffled as Jackwas, and would have welcomed help from anyone who could offer it. 

And, ironically, the first glimpse of the truth came from the directionthey least expected. 

From the very beginning Fuzzy had been watching the proceedings from hisperch on the swinging platform in the control room. If he sensed thatDal Timgar was ignoring him and leaving him to his own devices much ofthe time, he showed no sign of resentment. The tiny creature seemed torealize that something important was consuming his master's energy andattention, and contented himself with an affectionate pat now and thenas Dal went through the control room. Everyone assumed without muchthought that Fuzzy was merely being tolerant of the situation. It wasnot until they had finally given up in desperation and Tiger was tryingto contact a Hospital Ship for help, that Dal stared up at his littlepink friend with a puzzled frown. 

Tiger put the transmitter down for a moment. "What's wrong?" he said toDal. "You look as though you just bit into a rotten apple. "

"I just remembered that I haven't fed him for twenty-four hours, " Dalsaid. 

"Who? Fuzzy?" Tiger shrugged. "He could see you were busy. "

Dal shook his head. "That wouldn't make any difference to Fuzzy. When hegets hungry, he gets hungry, and he's pretty self-centered. It wouldn'tmatter what I was doing, he should have been screaming for food hoursago. "

Dal walked over to the platform and peered down at his pink friend inalarm. He took him up and rested him on his shoulder, a move thatinvariably sent Fuzzy into raptures of delight. Now the little creaturejust sat there, trembling and rubbing half-heartedly against Dal's neck. 

Dal held him out at arm's length. "Fuzzy, _what's the matter with you?_"

"Do you think something's wrong with him?" Jack said, looking upsuddenly. "Looks like he's having trouble keeping his eyes open. "

"His color isn't right, either, " Tiger said. "He looks kind of blue. "

Quite suddenly the little black eyes closed and Fuzzy began to trembleviolently. He drew himself up into a tight pink globule as the fuzz-likehair disappeared from view. 

Something was unmistakably wrong. As he held the shivering creature, Dalwas suddenly aware that something had been nibbling at the back of hismind for hours. Not a clear-cut thought, merely an impression of painand anguish and sickness, and now as he looked at Fuzzy the impressiongrew so strong it almost made him cry out. 

Abruptly, Dal knew what he had to do. Where the thought came from hedidn't know, but it was crystal clear in his mind. "Jack, where is ourbiggest virus filter?" he asked quietly. 

Jack stared at him. "Virus filter? I just took it out of the autoclavean hour ago. "

"Get it, " Dal said, "and the suction machine too. _Quickly!_"

Jack went down the corridor like a shot, and reappeared a moment laterwith the big porcelain virus filter and the suction tubing attached toit. Swiftly Dal dumped the limp little creature in his hand into the topof the filter jar, poured in some sterile saline, and started thesuction. 

Tiger and Jack watched him in amazement. "What are you doing?" Tigersaid. 

"Filtering him, " Dal said. "He's infected. He must have been exposed tothe plague somehow, maybe when our little Bruckian visitor came on boardthe other day. And if it's a virus that's causing this plague, the virusfilter ought to hold it back and still let Fuzzy's molecular structurethrough. "

They watched and sure enough a bluish-pink fluid began moving downthrough the porcelain filter, and dripping through the funnel into thebeaker below. Each drop coalesced in the beaker as it fell until Fuzzy'swhole body had been sucked through the filter and into the jar below. Hewas still not quite his normal pink color, but as the filter went dry, a pair of frightened shoe-button eyes appeared and he poked up a pair ofears. Presently the fuzz began appearing on his body again. 

And on the top of the filter lay a faint gray film. "Don't touch it!"Dal said. "That's real poison. " He slipped on a mask and gloves, andscraped a bit of the film from the filter with a spatula. "I think wehave it, " he said. "The virus that's causing the plague on thisplanet. "

CHAPTER 10

THE BOOMERANG CLUE

It was a virus, beyond doubt. The electron microscope told them that, now that they had the substance isolated and could examine it. In theculture tubes in the _Lancet_'s incubators, it would begin to grownicely, and then falter and die, but when guinea pigs were inoculated inthe ship's laboratory, the substance proved its virulence. The animalsinjected with tiny bits of the substance grew sick within hours and veryquickly died. 

The call to the Hospital Ship was canceled as the three doctors workedin feverish excitement. Here at last was something they could grapplewith, something so common among the races of the galaxy that the doctorsfelt certain that they could cope with it. Very few, if any, higher lifeforms existed that did not have some sort of submicroscopic parasiteafflicting them. Bacterial infection was a threat on every inhabitedworld, and the viruses--the tiniest of all submicroscopicorganisms--were the most difficult and dangerous of them all. 

And yet virus plagues had been stopped before, and they could be stoppedagain. 

Jack radioed down to the planet's surface that the diagnosis had beenmade; as soon as the proper medications could be prepared, the doctorswould land to begin treatment. There was a new flicker of hopefulness inthe Bruckian's response, and an appeal to hurry. With renewed energy thedoctors went back to the lab to start working on the new data. 

But trouble continued to dog them. This was no ordinary virus. It provedresistant to every one of the antibiotics and antiviral agents in the_Lancet_'s stockroom. No drug seemed to affect it, and its molecularstructure was different from any virus that had ever been recordedbefore. 

"If one of the drugs would only just slow it up a little, we'd beahead, " Tiger said in perplexity. "We don't have anything that eventouches it, not even the purified globulins. "

"What about antibodies from the infected people?" Jack suggested. "Inevery virus disease I've ever heard of, the victim's own body startsmaking antibodies against the invading virus. If enough antibodies aremade fast enough, the virus dies and the patient is immune from thenon. "

"Well, these people don't seem to be making any antibodies at all, "Tiger said. "At least not as far as I can see. If they were, at leastsome of them would be recovering from the disease. So far not a singleone has recovered once the thing started. They all just go ahead anddie. "

"I wonder, " Dal said, "if Fuzzy had any defense. "

Jack looked up. "How do you mean?"

"Well, Fuzzy was infected, we know that. He might have died too, if wehadn't caught it in time--but as it worked out, he didn't. In fact, helooks pretty healthy right now. "

"That's fine for Fuzzy, " Jack said impatiently, "but I don't see how wecan push the whole population of 31 Brucker VII through a virus filter. They're flesh-and-blood creatures. "

"That's not what I mean, " Dal said. "Maybe Fuzzy's body developedantibodies against the virus while he was infected. Remember, he doesn'thave a rigid body structure like we do. He's mostly just basic protein, and he can synthesize pretty much anything he wants to or needs to. "

Jack blinked. "It's an idea, at least. Is there any way we can get someof his body fluid away from him? Without getting bit, I mean?"

"No problem there, " Dal said. "He can regenerate pretty fast if he hasenough of the right kind of food. He won't miss an ounce or two ofexcess tissue. "

He took a beaker over to Fuzzy's platform and began squeezing off alittle blob of pink material. Fuzzy seemed to sense what Dal wanted;obligingly he thrust out a little pseudopod which Dal pinched off intothe beaker. With the addition of a small amount of saline solution, thetissue dissolved into thin, pink suspension. 

In the laboratory they found two or three of the guinea pigs in the laststages of the infection, and injected them with a tiny bit of the pinksolution. The effect was almost unbelievable. Within twenty minutes allof the injected animals began to perk up, their eyes brighter, nibblingat the food in their cages, while the ones that had not been injectedgot sicker and sicker. 

"Well, there's our answer, " Jack said eagerly. "If we can get some ofthis stuff injected into our friends down below, we may be able toprotect the healthy ones from getting the plague, and cure the sick onesas well. If we still have enough time, that is. "

They had landing permission from the Bruckian spokesman within minutes, and an hour later the _Lancet_ made an orderly landing on anewly-repaved landing field near one of the central cities on theseventh planet of 31 Brucker. 

Tiger and Jack had obviously not exaggerated the strange appearance ofthe towns and cities on this plague-ridden planet, and Dal was appalledat the ravages of the disease that they had come to fight. Only one outof ten of the Bruckians was still uninfected, and another three out ofthe ten were clearly in the late stages of the disease, walking aboutblankly and blindly, stumbling into things in their paths, falling tothe ground and lying mute and helpless until death came to release them. Under the glaring red sun, weary parties of stretcher bearers went aboutthe silent streets, moving their grim cargo out to the mass graves atthe edge of the city. 

The original spokesman who had come up to the _Lancet_ was dead, butanother had taken his place as negotiator with the doctors--an older, thinner Bruckian who looked as if he carried the total burden of hispeople on his shoulders. He greeted them eagerly at the landing field. "You have found a solution!" he cried. "You have found a way to turn thetide--but hurry! Every moment now is precious. "

During the landing procedures, Dal had worked to prepare enough of theprecious antibody suspension, with Fuzzy's co-operation, to handle alarge number of inoculations. By the time the ship touched down he had adozen flasks and several hundred syringes ready. Hundreds of theunafflicted people were crowding around the ship, staring in open wonderas Dal, Jack and Tiger came down the ladder and went into closeconference with the spokesman. 

It took some time to explain to the spokesman why they could not beginthen and there with the mass inoculations against the plague. First, they needed test cases, in order to make certain that what they thoughtwould work in theory actually produced the desired results. Controlswere needed, to be certain that the antibody suspension alone wasbringing about the changes seen and not something else. At last, orderswent out from the spokesman. Two hundred uninfected Bruckians wereadmitted to a large roped-off area near the ship, and another twohundred in late stages of the disease were led stumbling into anotherclosed area. Preliminary skin-tests of the antibody suspension showed nosign of untoward reaction. Dal began filling syringes while Tiger andJack started inoculating the two groups. 

"If it works with these cases, it will be simple to immunize the wholepopulation, " Tiger said. "From the amounts we used on the guinea pigs, it looks as if only tiny amounts are needed. We may even be able totrain the Bruckians to give the injections themselves. "

"And if it works we ought to have a brand new medical service contractready for signature with Hospital Earth, " Jack added eagerly. "It won'tbe long before we have those Stars, you wait and see! If we can only getthis done fast enough. "

They worked feverishly, particularly with the group of terminal cases. Many were dying even as the shots were being given, while the firstsymptoms of the disease were appearing in some of the unafflicted ones. Swiftly Tiger and Jack went from patient to patient while Dal kept checkof the names, numbers and locations of those that were inoculated. 

And even before they were finished with the inoculations, it wasapparent that they were taking effect. Not one of the infected patientsdied after inoculation was completed. The series took three hours, andby the time the four hundred doses were administered, one thing seemedcertain: that the antibody was checking the deadly march of the diseasein some way. 

The Bruckian spokesman was so excited he could hardly contain himself;he wanted to start bringing in the rest of the population at once. "We've almost exhausted this first batch of the material, " Dal told him. "We will have to prepare more--but we will waste time trying to move awhole planet's population here. Get a dozen aircraft ready, and a dozenhealthy, intelligent workers to help us. We can show them how to use thematerial, and let them go out to the other population centers all atonce. "

Back aboard the ship they started preparing a larger quantity of theantibody suspension. Fuzzy had regenerated back to normal weight again, and much to Dal's delight had been splitting off small segments of pinkprotoplasm in a circle all around him, as though anticipating furtherdemands on his resources. A quick test-run showed that the antibody wasalso being regenerated. Fuzzy was voraciously hungry, but the materialin the second batch was still as powerful as in the first. 

The doctors were almost ready to go back down, loaded with enoughinoculum and syringes to equip themselves and a dozen field workers whenJack suddenly stopped what he was doing and cocked an ear toward theentrance lock. 

"What's wrong?" Dal said. 

"Listen a minute. "

They stopped to listen. "I don't hear anything, " Tiger said. 

Jack nodded. "I know. That's what I mean. They were hollering theirheads off when we came back aboard. Why so quiet now?"

He crossed over to the viewscreen scanning the field below, and flippedon the switch. For a moment he just stared. Then he said: "Come here aminute. I don't like the looks of this at all. "

Dal and Tiger crowded up to the screen. "What's the matter?" Tiger said. "I don't see . .. _wait a minute!_"

"Yes, you'd better look again, " Jack said. "What do you think, Dal?"

"We'd better get down there fast, " Dal said, "and see what's going on. It looks to me like we've got a tiger by the tail. .. . "

 * * * * *

They climbed down the ladder once again, with the antibody flasks andsterile syringes strapped to their backs. But this time the greeting wasdifferent from before. 

The Bruckian spokesman and the others who had not yet been inoculateddrew back from them in terror as they stepped to the ground. Before, thepeople on the field had crowded in eagerly around the ship; now theywere standing in silent groups staring at the doctors fearfully andmuttering among themselves. 

But the doctors could see only the inoculated people in the tworoped-off areas. Off to the right among the infected Bruckians who hadreceived the antibody there were no new dead--but there was no changefor the better, either. The sick creatures drifted about aimlessly, milling like animals in a cage, their faces blank, their jaws slack, hands wandering foolishly. Not one of them had begun reacting normally, not one showed any sign of recognition or recovery. 

But the real horror was on the other side of the field. Here were thehealthy ones, the uninfected ones who had received preventativeinoculations. A few hours before they had been left standing in quiet, happy groups, talking among themselves, laughing and joking. .. . 

But now they weren't talking any more. They stared across at the doctorswith slack faces and dazed eyes, their feet shuffling aimlessly in thedust. All were alive, but only half-alive. The intelligence andalertness were gone from their faces; they were like the empty shells ofthe creatures they had been a few hours before, indistinguishable fromthe infected creatures in the other compound. 

Jack turned to the Bruckian spokesman in alarm. "What's happened here?"he asked. "What's become of the ones we inoculated? Where have you takenthem?"

The spokesman shrank back as though afraid Jack might reach out to touchhim. "Taken them!" he cried. "We have moved none of them! Those are theones you poisoned with your needles. What have you done to make themlike this?"

"It--it must be some sort of temporary reaction to the injection, " Jackfaltered. "There was nothing that we used that could possibly have giventhem the disease, we only used a substance to help them fight it off. "

The Bruckian was shaking his fist angrily. "It's no reaction, it is theplague itself! What kind of evil are you doing? You came here to helpus, and instead you bring us more misery. Do we not have enough of thatto please you?"

Swiftly the doctors began examining the patients in both enclosures, andon each side they found the same picture. One by one they checked theones that had previously been untouched by the plague, and found onlythe sagging jaws and idiot stares. 

"There's no sense examining every one, " Tiger said finally. "They're allthe same, every one. "

"But this is impossible, " Jack said, glancing apprehensively at thegrowing mob of angry Bruckians outside the stockades. "What could havehappened? What have we done?"

"I don't know, " Tiger said. "But whatever we've done has turned into aboomerang. We knew that the antibody might not work, and the diseasemight just go right ahead, but we didn't anticipate anything like this. "

"Maybe some foreign protein got into the batch, " Dal said. 

Tiger shook his head. "It wouldn't behave like _this_. And we werecareful getting it ready. All we've done was inject an antibody againsta specific virus. All it could have done was to kill the virus, butthese people act as though they're infected now. "

"But they're not dying, " Dal said. "And the sick ones we injectedstopped dying, too. "

"So what do we do now?" Jack said. 

"Get one of these that changed like this aboard ship and go over himwith a fine-toothed comb. We've got to find out what's happened. "

He led one of the stricken Bruckians by the hand like a mindless dummyacross the field toward the little group where the spokesman and hisparty stood. The crowd on the field were moving in closer; an angry crywent up when Dal touched the sick creature. 

"You'll have to keep this crowd under control, " Dal said to thespokesman. "We're going to take this one aboard the ship and examine himto see what this reaction could be, but this mob is beginning to sounddangerous. "

"They're afraid, " the spokesman said. "They want to know what you'vedone to them, what this new curse is that you bring in your syringes. "

"It's not a curse, but something has gone wrong. We need to learn what, in order to deal with it. "

"The people are afraid and angry, " the spokesman said. "I don't know howlong I can control them. "

And indeed, the attitude of the crowd around the ship was very strange. They were not just fearful; they were terrified. As the doctors walkedback to the ship leading the stricken Bruckian behind them, the peopleshrank back with dreadful cries, holding up their hands as if to wardoff some monstrous evil. Before, in the worst throes of the plague, there had been no sign of this kind of reaction. The people had seemedapathetic and miserable, resigned hopelessly to their fate, but now theywere reacting in abject terror. It almost seemed that they were moreafraid of these walking shells of their former selves than they were ofthe disease itself. 

But as the doctors started up the ladder toward the entrance lock thecrowd surged in toward them with fists raised in anger. "We'd better gethelp, and fast, " Jack said as he slammed the entrance lock closed behindthem. "I don't like the looks of this a bit. Dal, we'd better see whatwe can learn from this poor creature here. "

As Tiger headed for the earphones, Dal and Jack went to work once again, checking the blood and other body fluids from the stricken Bruckian. Butnow, incredibly, the results of their tests were quite different fromthose they had obtained before. The blood sugar and proteindeterminations fell into the pattern they had originally expected for acreature of this type. Even more surprising, the level of the antibodyagainst the plague virus was high--far higher than it could have beenfrom the tiny amount that was injected into the creature. 

"They must have been making it themselves, " Dal said, "and ourinoculation was just the straw that broke the camel's back. All of thosepeople must have been on the brink of symptoms of the infection, andall we did was add to the natural defenses they were already making. "

"Then why did the symptoms appear?" Jack said. "If that's true, weshould have been _helping_ them, and look at them now!"

Tiger appeared at the door, scowling. "We've got real trouble, now, " hesaid. "I can't get through to a hospital ship. In fact, I can't get amessage out at all. These people are jamming our radios. "

"But why?" Dal said. 

"I don't know, but take a look outside there. "

Through the viewscreen it seemed as though the whole field around theship had filled up with the crowd. The first reaction of terror nowseemed to have given way to blind fury; the people were shoutingangrily, waving their clenched fists at the ship as the spokesman triedto hold them back. 

Then there was a resounding crash from somewhere below, and the shiplurched, throwing the doctors to the floor. They staggered to their feetas another blow jolted the ship, and another. 

"Let's get a screen up, " Tiger shouted. "Jack, get the engines going. They're trying to board us, and I don't think it'll be much fun if theyever break in. "

In the control room they threw the switches that activated a powerfulprotective energy screen around the ship. It was a device that wascarried by all GPP Ships as a means of protection against physicalattack. When activated, an energy screen was virtually impregnable, butit could only be used briefly; the power it required placed an enormousdrain on a ship's energy resources, and a year's nuclear fuel could beconsumed in a few hours. 

Now the screen served its purpose. The ship steadied, still vibratingfrom the last assault, and the noise from below ceased abruptly. Butwhen Jack threw the switches to start the engines, nothing happened atall. 

"Look at that!" he cried, staring at the motionless dials. "They'rejamming our electrical system somehow. I can't get any turn-over. "

"Try it again, " Tiger said. "We've got to get out of here. If they breakin, we're done for. "

"They can't break through the screen, " Dal said. 

"Not as long as it lasts. But we can't keep it up indefinitely. "

Once again they tried the radio equipment. There was no response but theharsh static of the jamming signal from the ground below. "It's nogood, " Tiger said finally. "We're stuck here, and we can't even call forhelp. You'd think if they were so scared of us they'd be glad to see usgo. "

"I think there's more to it than that, " Dal said thoughtfully. "Thiswhole business has been crazy from the start. This just fits in with allthe rest. " He picked Fuzzy off his perch and set him on his shoulder asif to protect him from some unsuspected threat. "Maybe they're afraid ofus, I don't know. But I think they're afraid of something else a wholelot worse. "

 * * * * *

There was nothing to be done but wait and stare hopelessly at the massof notes and records that they had collected on the people of 31 BruckerVII and the plague that afflicted them. 

Until now, the _Lancet_'s crew had been too busy to stop and piece thedata together, to try to see the picture as a whole. But now there wasample time, and the realization of what had been happening here began todawn on them. 

They had followed the well-established principles step by step instudying these incredible people, and nothing had come out as it should. In theory, the steps they had taken should have yielded the answer. Theyhad come to a planet where an entire population was threatened with adreadful disease. They had identified the disease, found and isolatedthe virus that caused it, and then developed an antibody thateffectively destroyed the virus--in the laboratory. But when they hadtried to apply the antibody in the afflicted patients, the response hadbeen totally unexpected. They had stopped the march of death among thosethey had inoculated, and had produced instead a condition that thepeople seemed to dread far more than death. 

"Let's face it, " Dal said, "we bungled it somehow. We should have hadhelp here right from the start. I don't know where we went wrong, butwe've done something. "

"Well, it wasn't your fault, " Jack said gloomily. "If we had the rightdiagnosis, this wouldn't have happened. And I _still_ can't see thediagnosis. All I've been able to come up with is a nice mess. "

"We're missing something, that's all, " Dal said. "The information is allhere. We just aren't reading it right, somehow. Somewhere in here is akey to the whole thing, and we just can't see it. "

They went back to the data again, going through it step by step. Thiswas Jack Alvarez's specialty--the technique of diagnosis, the ability totake all the available information about a race and about its illnessand piece it together into a pattern that made sense. Dal could see thatJack was now bitterly angry with himself, yet at every turn he seemed tostrike another obstacle--some fact that didn't jibe, a missing fragmenthere, a wrong answer there. With Dal and Tiger helping he started backover the sequence of events, trying to make sense out of them, and cameup squarely against a blank wall. 

The things they had done should have worked; instead, they had failed. Aspecific antibody used against a specific virus should have destroyedthe virus or slowed its progress, and there seemed to be no rationalexplanation for the dreadful response of the uninfected ones who hadbeen inoculated for protection. 

And as the doctors sifted through the data, the Bruckian they hadbrought up from the enclosure sat staring off into space, making smallnoises with his mouth and moving his arms aimlessly. After a while theyled him back to a bunk, gave him a medicine for sleep and left himsnoring gently. Another hour passed as they pored over their notes, withTiger stopping from time to time to mop perspiration from his forehead. All three were aware of the moving clock hands, marking off the minutesthat the force screen could hold out. 

And then Dal Timgar was digging into the pile of papers, searchingfrantically for something he could not find. "That first report we got, "he said hoarsely. "There was something in the very first information weever saw on this planet. .. . "

"You mean the Confederation's data? It's in the radio log. " Tiger pulledopen the thick log book. "But what. .. . "

"It's there, plain as day, I'm sure of it, " Dal said. He read throughthe report swiftly, until he came to the last paragraph--a two-linedescription of the largest creatures the original Exploration Ship hadfound on the planet, described by them as totally unintelligent and onlyobserved on a few occasions in the course of the exploration. Dal readit, and his hands were trembling as he handed the report to Jack. "Iknew the answer was there!" he said. "Take a look at that again andthink about it for a minute. "

Jack read it through. "I don't see what you mean, " he said. 

"I mean that I think we've made a horrible mistake, " Dal said, "and Ithink I see now what it was. We've had this whole thing exactly 100 percent backward from the start, and that explains everything that'shappened here!"

Tiger peered over Jack's shoulder at the report. "Backward?"

"As backward as we could get it, " Dal said. "We've assumed all alongthat these flesh-and-blood creatures down there were the ones that werecalling us for help because of a virus plague that was attacking andkilling them. All right, look at it the other way. Just suppose that theintelligent creature that called us for help was the _virus_, and thatthose flesh-and-blood creatures down there with the blank, stupid facesare the _real_ plague we ought to have been fighting all along!"

CHAPTER 11

DAL BREAKS A PROMISE

For a moment the others just stared at their Garvian crewmate. Then JackAlvarez snorted. "You'd better go back and get some rest, " he said. "This has been a tougher grind than I thought. You're beginning to showthe strain. "

"No, I mean it, " Dal said earnestly. "I think that is exactly what'sbeen happening. "

Tiger looked at him with concern. "Dal, this is no time for double talkand nonsense. "

"It's not nonsense, " Dal said. "It's the answer, if you'll only stop andthink. "

"An intelligent _virus_?" Jack said. "Who ever heard of such a thing?There's never been a life-form like that reported since the beginning ofthe galactic exploration. "

"But that doesn't mean there couldn't be one, " Dal said. "And how wouldan exploratory crew ever identify it, if it existed? How would they evereven suspect it? They'd miss it completely--unless it happened to getinto trouble itself and try to call for help!" Dal jumped up inexcitement. 

"Look, I've seen a dozen articles showing how such a thing wastheoretically possible . .. A virus life-form with billions ofsubmicroscopic parts acting together to form an intelligent colony. Theonly thing a virus-creature would need that other intelligent creaturesdon't need would be some kind of a host, some sort of animal body tolive in so that it could use its intelligence. "

"It's impossible, " Jack said scornfully. "Why don't you give it up andget some rest? Here we sit with our feet in the fire, and all you can dois dream up foolishness like this. "

"I'm not so sure it's foolishness, " Tiger Martin said slowly. "Jack, maybe he's got something. A couple of things would fit that don't makesense at all. "

"All sorts of things would fit, " Dal said. "The viruses we know have tohave a host--some other life-form to live in. Usually they areparasites, damaging or destroying their hosts and giving nothing inreturn, but some set up real partnership housekeeping with their hostsso that both are better off. "

"You mean a symbiotic relationship, " Jack said. 

"Of course, " Dal said. "Now suppose these virus-creatures wereintelligent, and came from some other place looking for a new host theycould live with. They wouldn't look for an intelligent creature, theywould look for some _unintelligent_ creature with a good strong bodythat would be capable of doing all sorts of things if it only had anintelligence to guide it. Suppose these virus-creatures found asimple-minded, unintelligent race on this planet and tried to set up asymbiotic relationship with it. The virus-creatures would need a host toprovide a home and a food supply. Maybe they in turn could supply theintelligence to raise the host to a civilized level of life andperformance. Wouldn't that be a fair basis for a sound partnership?"

Jack scratched his head doubtfully. "And you're saying that thesevirus-creatures came here after the exploratory ship had come and gone?"

"They must have! Maybe they only came a few years ago, maybe only monthsago. But when they tried to invade the unintelligent creatures theexploratory ship found here, they discovered that the new host's bodycouldn't tolerate them. His body reacted as if they were parasiticinvaders, and built up antibodies against them. And those body defenseswere more than the virus could cope with. "

Dal pointed to the piles of notes on the desk. "Don't you see how itadds up? Right from the beginning we've been assuming that thesemonkey-like creatures here on this planet were the dominant, intelligentlife-forms. Anatomically they were ordinary cellular creatures like youand me, and when we examined them we expected to find the same sort ofbiochemical reactions we'd find with any such creatures. And all ourresults came out wrong, because we were dealing with a combination oftwo creatures--the host and a virus. Maybe the creatures on 31 BruckerVII were naturally blank-faced idiots before the virus came, or maybethe virus was forced to damage some vital part just in order to fightback--but it was the _virus_ that was being killed by its own host, notthe other way around. "

Jack studied the idea, no longer scornful. "So you think thevirus-creatures called for help, hoping we could find some way to freethem from the hosts that were killing them. And when Fuzzy developed apowerful antibody against them, and we started using the stuff--" Jackbroke off, shaking his head in horror. "Dal, if you're right, we wereliterally _slaughtering our own patients_ when we gave those injectionsdown there!"

"Exactly, " Dal said. "Is it any wonder they're so scared of us now? Itmust have looked like a deliberate attempt to wipe them out, and nowthey're afraid that we'll go get help and _really_ move in againstthem. "

Tiger nodded. "Which was precisely what we were planning, if you stop tothink about it. Maybe that was why they were so reluctant to tell usanything about themselves. Maybe they've already been mistaken forparasitic invaders before, wherever in the universe they came from. "

"But if this is true, then we're really in a jam, " Jack said. "What canwe possibly do for them? We can't even repair the damage that we'vealready done. What sort of treatment can we use?"

Dal shook his head. "I don't know the answer to that one, but I do knowwe've got to find out if we're right. An intelligent virus-creature hasas much right to life as any other intelligent life-form. If we'veguessed right, then there's a lot that our intelligent friends downthere haven't told us. Maybe there'll be some clue there. We've just gotto face them with it, and see what they say. "

Jack looked at the viewscreen, at the angry mob milling around on theground, held back from the ship by the energy screen. "You mean just goout there and say, 'Look fellows, it was all a mistake, we didn't reallymean to do it?'" He shook his head. "Maybe you want to tell them. Notme!"

"Dal's right, though, " Tiger said. "We've got to contact them somehow. They aren't even responding to radio communication, and they'vescrambled our outside radio and fouled our drive mechanism somehow. We've got to settle this while we still have an energy screen. "

There was a long silence as the three doctors looked at each other. ThenDal stood up and walked over to the swinging platform. He lifted Fuzzydown onto his shoulder. "It'll be all right, " he said to Jack andTiger. "I'll go out. "

"They'll tear you to ribbons!" Tiger protested. 

Dal shook his head. "I don't think so, " he said quietly. "I don't thinkthey'll touch me. They'll greet me with open arms when I go down there, and they'll be eager to talk to me. "

"Are you crazy?" Jack cried, leaping to his feet. "We can't let you goout there. "

"Don't worry, " Dal said. "I know exactly what I'm doing. I'll be able tohandle the situation, believe me. "

He hesitated a moment, and gave Fuzzy a last nervous pat, settling himmore firmly on his shoulder. Then he started down the corridor for theentrance lock. 

 * * * * *

He had promised himself long before . .. Many years before . .. That hewould never do what he planned to do now, but now he knew that there wasno alternative. The only other choice was to wait helplessly until thepower failed and the protective screen vanished and the creatures on theground outside tore the ship to pieces. 

As he stood in the airlock waiting for the pressure to shift to outsidenormal, he lifted Fuzzy down into the crook of his arm and rubbed thelittle creature between the shoe-button eyes. "You've got to back me upnow, " he whispered softly. "It's been a long time, I know that, but Ineed help now. It's going to be up to you. "

Dal knew the subtle strength of his people's peculiar talent. From themoment he had stepped down to the ground the second time with Tiger andJack, even with Fuzzy waiting back on the ship, he had felt the powerfulwave of horror and fear and anger rising up from the Bruckians, and hehad glimpsed the awful idiot vacancy of the minds of the creatures inthe enclosure, in whom the intelligent virus was already dead. This hadrequired no effort; it just came naturally into his mind, and he hadknown instantly that something terrible had gone wrong. 

In the years on Hospital Earth, he had carefully forced himself never tothink in terms of his special talent. He had diligently screened off theimpressions and emotions that struck at him constantly from hisclassmates and from others that he came in contact with. Above all, hehad fought down the temptation to turn his power the other way, to useit to his own advantage. 

But now, as the lock opened and he started down the ladder, he closedhis mind to everything else. Hugging Fuzzy close to his side, he turnedhis mind into a single tight channel. He drove the thought out at theBruckians with all the power he could muster: _I come in peace. I meanyou no harm. I have good news, joyful news. You must be happy to see me, eager to welcome me. .. . _

He could feel the wave of anger and fear strike him like a physical blowas soon as he appeared in the entrance lock. The cries rose up in awave, and the crowd surged in toward the ship. With the energy fieldreleased, there was nothing to stop them; they were tripping over eachother to reach the bottom of the ladder first, shouting threats andwaving angry fists, reaching up to grab at Dal's ankles as he camedown. .. . 

And then as if by magic the cries died in the throats of the onesclosest to the ladder. The angry fists unclenched, and extended intooutstretched hands to help him down to the ground. As though anever-widening wave was spreading out around him, the aura of peace andgood will struck the people in the crowd. And as it spread, the angerfaded from the faces; the hard lines gave way to puzzled frowns, then tosmiles. Dal channeled his thoughts more rigidly, and watched the effectspread out from him like ripples in a pond, as anger and suspicion andfear melted away to be replaced by confidence and trust. 

Dal had seen it occur a thousand times before. He could remember histrips on Garvian trading ships with his father, when the traders withtheir fuzzy pink friends on their shoulders faced cold, hostile, suspicious buyers. It had seemed almost miraculous the way thesuspicions melted away and the hostile faces became friendly as thebuyers' minds became receptive to bargaining and trading. He had evenseen it happen on the _Teegar_ with Tiger and Jack, and it was nocoincidence that throughout the galaxy the Garvians--always accompaniedby their fuzzy friends--had assumed the position of power and wealth andleadership that they had. 

And now once again the pattern was being repeated. The Bruckians whosurrounded Dal were smiling and talking eagerly; they made no move totouch him or harm him. 

The spokesman they had talked to before was there at his elbow, and Dalheard himself saying, "We have found the answer to your problem. We knownow the true nature of your race, and the nature of your intelligence. You were afraid that we would find out, but your fears were groundless. We will not turn our knowledge against you. We only want to help you. "

An expression almost like despair had crossed the spokesman's face asDal spoke. Now he said, "It would be good--if we could believe you. Buthow can we? We have been driven for so long and come so far, and now youwould seek to wipe us out as parasites and disease-carriers. "

Dal saw the Bruckian creature's eyes upon him, saw the frail bodytremble and the lips move, but he knew now that the intelligence thatformed the words and the thoughts behind them, the intelligence thatmade the lips speak the words, was the intelligence of a creature fardifferent from the one he was looking at--a creature formed of billionsof submicroscopic units, imbedded in every one of the Bruckian's bodycells, trapped there now and helpless against the antibody reaction thatsought to destroy them. This was the intelligence that had called forhelp in its desperate plight, but had not quite dared to trust itsrescuers with the whole truth. 

But was this strange virus-creature good or evil, hostile or friendly?Dal's hand lay on Fuzzy's tiny body, but he felt no quiver, no vibrationof fear. He looked across the face of the crowd, trying with all hisstrength to open his mind to the feelings and emotions of these people. Often enough, with Fuzzy nearby, he had felt the harsh impact ofhostile, cruel, brutal minds, even when the owners of those minds hadtried to conceal their feelings behind smiles and pleasant words. Buthere there was no sign of the sickening feeling that kind of mindproduced, no hint of hostility or evil. 

He shook his head. "Why should we want to destroy you?" he said. "Youare good, and peaceful. We know that; why should we harm you? All youwant is a place to live, and a host to join with you in a mutuallyvaluable partnership. But you did not tell us everything you could aboutyourselves, and as a result we have destroyed some of you in our clumsyattempts to learn your true nature. "

They talked then, and bit by bit the story came out. The life-form wasindeed a virus, unimaginably ancient, and intelligent throughoutmillions of years of its history. Driven by over-population, a pureculture of the virus-creatures had long ago departed from their originalnative hosts, and traveled like encapsulated spores across space from adistant galaxy. The trip had been long and exhausting; thevirus-creatures had retained only the minimum strength necessary toestablish themselves in a new host, some unintelligent creature livingon an uninhabited planet, a creature that could benefit by the greatintelligence of the virus-creatures, and provide food and shelter forboth. Finally, after thousands of years of searching, they had foundthis planet with its dull-minded, fruit-gathering inhabitants. Thesecreatures had seemed perfect as hosts, and the virus-creatures hadthought their long search for a perfect partner was finally at an end. 

It was not until they had expended the last dregs of their energy inanchoring themselves into the cells and tissues of their new hosts thatthey discovered to their horror that the host-creatures could nottolerate them. Unlike their original hosts, the bodies of thesecreatures began developing deadly antibodies that attacked the virusinvaders. In their desperate attempts to hold on and fight back, thevirus-creatures had destroyed vital centers in the new hosts, and one byone they had begun to die. There was not enough energy left for thevirus-creatures to detach themselves and move on; without some way tostem the onslaught of the antibodies, they were doomed to totaldestruction. 

"We were afraid to tell you doctors the truth, " the spokesman said. "Aswe wandered and searched we discovered that creatures like ourselveswere extreme rarities in the universe, that most creatures similar to uswere mindless, unintelligent parasites that struck down their hosts anddestroyed them. Wherever we went, life-forms of your kind regarded us asdisease-bearers, and their doctors taught them ways to destroy us. Wehad hoped that from you we might find a way to save ourselves--then youunleashed on us the one weapon we could not fight. "

"But not maliciously, " Dal said. "Only because we did not understand. And now that we do, there may be a way to help. A difficult way, but atleast a way. The antibodies themselves can be neutralized, but it maytake our biochemists and virologists and all their equipment months oreven years to develop and synthesize the proper antidote. "

The spokesman looked at Dal, and turned away with a hopeless gesture. "Then it is too late, after all, " he said. "We are dying too fast. Eventhose of us who have not been affected so far are beginning to feel theearly symptoms of the antibody attack. " He smiled sadly and reached outto stroke the small pink creature on Dal's arm. "Your people too have apartner, I see. We envy you. "

Dal felt a movement on his arm and looked down at Fuzzy. He had alwaystaken his little friend for granted, but now he thought of the feelingof emptiness and loss that had come across him when Fuzzy had beenalmost killed. He had often wondered just what Fuzzy might be like ifhis almost-fluid, infinitely adaptable physical body had only beenendowed with intelligence. He had wondered what kind of a creature Fuzzymight be if he were able to use his remarkable structure with theguidance of an intelligent mind behind it. .. . 

He felt another movement on his arm, and his eyes widened as he stareddown at his little friend. 

A moment before, there had been a single three-inch pink creature on hiselbow. But now there were two, each just one-half the size of theoriginal. As Dal watched, one of the two drew away from the other, creeping in to snuggle closer to Dal's side, and a pair of shoe-buttoneyes appeared and blinked up at him trustingly. But the other creaturewas moving down his arm, straining out toward the Bruckian spokesman. .. . 

Dal realized instantly what was happening. He started to draw back, butsomething stopped him. Deep in his mind he could sense a gentle voicereassuring him, saying, _It's all right, there is nothing to fear, noharm will come to me. These creatures need help, and this is the way tohelp them. _

He saw the Bruckian reach out a trembling hand. The tiny pink creaturethat had separated from Fuzzy seemed almost to leap across to theoutstretched hand. And then the spokesman held him close, and the newFuzzy shivered happily. 

The virus-creatures had found a host. Here was the ideal kind of bodyfor their intelligence to work with and mold, a host whereantibody-formation could be perfectly controlled. Dal knew now that theproblem had almost been solved once before, when the virus-creature hadreached Fuzzy on the ship; if they had only waited a little longer theywould have seen Fuzzy recover from his illness a different creatureentirely than before. 

Already the new creature was dividing again, with half going on to thenext of the Bruckians. To a submicroscopic virus, the body of the hostwould not have to be large; soon there would be a sufficient number ofhosts to serve the virus-creatures' needs forever. As he started back upthe ladder to the ship, Dal knew that the problem on 31 Brucker VII hadfound a happy and permanent solution. 

 * * * * *

Back in the control room Dal related what had happened from beginning toend. There was only one detail that he concealed. He could not bringhimself to tell Tiger and Jack of the true nature of his relationshipwith Fuzzy, of the odd power over the emotions of others that Fuzzy'spresence gave him. He could tell by their faces that they realized thathe was leaving something out; they had watched him go down to face ablood-thirsty mob, and had seen that mob become docile as lambs asthough by magic. Clearly they could not understand what had happened, yet they did not ask him. 

"So it was Fuzzy's idea to volunteer as a new host for the creatures, "Jack said. 

Dal nodded. "I knew that he could reproduce, of course, " he said. "EveryGarvian has a Fuzzy, and whenever a new Garvian is born, the father'sFuzzy always splits so that half can join the new-born child. It's likethe division of a cell; within hours the Fuzzy that stayed down therewill have divided to provide enough protoplasm for every one of thesurviving intelligent Bruckians. "

"And your diagnosis was the right one, " Jack said. 

"We'll see, " Dal said. "Tomorrow we'll know better. "

But clearly the problem had been solved. The next day there was anexcited conference between the spokesman and the doctors on the_Lancet_. The Bruckians had elected to maintain the same host body asbefore. They had gotten used to it; with the small pink creaturesserving as a shelter to protect them against the deadly antibodies, theycould live in peace and security. But they were eager, before the_Lancet_ disembarked, to sign a full medical service contract with thedoctors from Hospital Earth. A contract was signed, subject only tofinal acceptance and ratification by the Hospital Earth officials. 

Now that their radio was free again, the three doctors jubilantlyprepared a full account of the problem of 31 Brucker and its solution, and dispatched the news of the new contract to the first relay stationon its way back to Hospital Earth. Then, weary to the point of collapse, they retired for the first good sleep in days, eagerly awaiting anofficial response from Hospital Earth on the completed case and thecontract. 

"It ought to wipe out any black mark Dr. Tanner has against any of us, "Jack said happily. "And especially in Dal's case. " He grinned at the RedDoctor. "This one has been yours, all the way. You pulled it out of thefire after I flubbed it completely, and you're going to get the credit, if I have anything to say about it. "

"We should all get credit, " Dal said. "A new contract isn't signed everyday of the year. But the way we all fumbled our way into it, HospitalEarth shouldn't pay much attention to it anyway. "

But Dal knew that he was only throwing up his habitual shield to guardagainst disappointment. Traditionally, a new contract meant a Starrating for each of the crew that brought it in. All through medicalschool Dal had read the reports of other patrol ships that had securednew contracts with uncontacted planets, and he had seen the fanfare andhonor that were heaped on the doctors from those ships. And for thefirst time since he had entered medical school years before, Dal nowallowed himself to hope that his goal was in sight. 

He wanted to be a Star Surgeon more than anything else. It was the onething that he had wanted and worked for since the cruel days when theplague had swept his homeland, destroying his mother and leaving hisfather an ailing cripple. And since his assignment aboard the _Lancet_, one thought had filled his mind: to turn in the scarlet collar and cuffin return for the cape and silver star of the full-fledged physician inthe Red Service of Surgery. 

Always before there had been the half-conscious dread that somethingwould happen, that in the end, after all the work, the silver star wouldstill remain just out of reach, that somehow he would never quite getit. 

But now there could be no question. Even Black Doctor Tanner could notdeny a new contract. The crew of the _Lancet_ would be called back toHospital Earth for a full report on the newly contacted race, and theirdays as probationary doctors in the General Practice patrol would beover. 

After they had slept themselves out, the doctors prepared the ship forlaunching, and made their farewells to the Bruckian spokesman. 

"When the contract is ratified, " Jack said, "a survey ship will comehere. They will have all of the information that we have gathered, andthey will spend many months gathering more. Tell them everything theywant to know. Don't conceal anything, because once they have completedtheir survey, any General Practice Patrol ship in the galaxy will beable to answer a call for help and have the information they need toserve you. "

They delayed launching hour by hour waiting for a response from HospitalEarth, but the radio was silent. They thought of a dozen reasons why themessage might have been delayed, but the radio silence continued. Finally they strapped down and lifted the ship from the planet, stillwaiting for a response. 

When it finally came, there was no message of congratulations, nor evenany acknowledgment of the new contract. Instead, there was only a tersemessage:

 PROCEED TO REFERENCE POINT 43621 SECTION XIX AND STAND BY FOR INSPECTION PARTY

Tiger took the message and read it in silence, then handed it to Dal. 

"What do they say?" Jack said. 

"Read it, " Dal said. "They don't mention the contract, just aninspection party. "

"Inspection party! Is that the best they can do for us?"

"They don't sound too enthusiastic, " Tiger said. "At least you'd thinkthey could acknowledge receipt of our report. "

"It's probably just part of the routine, " Dal said. "Maybe they want toconfirm our reports from our own records before they commit themselves. "

But he knew that he was only whistling in the dark. The moment he sawthe terse message, he knew something had gone wrong with the contract. There would be no notes of congratulation, no returning in triumph andhonor to Hospital Earth. 

Whatever the reason for the inspection party, Dal felt certain who theinspector was going to be. 

It had been exciting to dream, but the scarlet cape and the silver starwere still a long way out of reach. 

CHAPTER 12

THE SHOWDOWN

It was hours later when their ship reached the contact pointco-ordinates. There had been little talk during the transit; each ofthem knew already what the other was thinking, and there wasn't much tobe said. The message had said it for them. 

Dal's worst fears were realized when the inspection ship appeared, converting from Koenig drive within a few miles of the _Lancet_. He hadseen the ship before--a sleek, handsomely outfitted patrol class shipwith the insignia of the Black Service of Pathology emblazoned on itshull, the private ship of a Four-star Black Doctor. 

But none of them anticipated the action taken by the inspection ship asit drew within lifeboat range of the _Lancet_. 

A scooter shot away from its storage rack on the black ship, and a crewof black-garbed technicians piled into the _Lancet_'s entrance lock, dressed in the special decontamination suits worn when a ship wasreturning from a plague spot into uninfected territory. 

"What is this?" Tiger demanded as the technicians started unloadingdecontamination gear into the lock. "What are you doing with thatstuff?"

The squad leader looked at him sourly. "You're in quarantine, Doc, " hesaid. "Class I, all precautions, contact with unidentified pestilence. If you don't like it, argue with the Black Doctor, I've just got a jobto do. "

He started shouting orders to his men, and they scattered throughout theship, with blowers and disinfectants, driving antiseptic sprays intoevery crack and cranny of the ship's interior, scouring the hull outsidein the rigid pattern prescribed for plague ships. They herded thedoctors into the decontamination lock, stripped them of their clothes, scrubbed them down and tossed them special sterilized fatigues to wearwith masks and gloves. 

"This is idiotic, " Jack protested. "We aren't carrying any dangerousorganisms!"

The squad leader shrugged indifferently. "Tell it to the Black Doctor, not me. All I know is that this ship is under quarantine until it'sofficially released, and from what I hear, it's not going to be releasedfor quite some time. "

At last the job was done, and the scooter departed back to theinspection ship. A few moments later they saw it returning, this timecarrying just three men. In addition to the pilot and one technician, there was a single passenger: a portly figure dressed in a black robe, horn-rimmed glasses and cowl. 

The scooter grappled the _Lancet_'s side, and Black Doctor Hugo Tannerclimbed wheezing into the entrance lock, followed by the technician. Hestopped halfway into the lock to get his breath, and paused again as thelock swung closed behind him. Dal was shocked at the physical change inthe man in the few short weeks since he had seen him last. The BlackDoctor's face was gray; every effort of movement brought on paroxysms ofcoughing. He looked sick, and he looked tired, yet his jaw was still setin angry determination. 

The doctors stood at attention as he stepped into the control room, hardly able to conceal their surprise at seeing him. "Well?" the BlackDoctor snapped at them. "What's the trouble with you? You act likeyou've seen a ghost or something. "

"We--we'd heard that you were in the hospital, sir. "

"Did you, now!" the Black Doctor snorted. "Hospital! Bah! I had to tellthe press something to get the hounds off me for a while. These youngpuppies seem to think that a Black Doctor can just walk away from hisduties any time he chooses to undergo their fancy surgical procedures. And you know who's been screaming the loudest to get their hands on me. The Red Service of Surgery, that's who!"

The Black Doctor glared at Dal Timgar. "Well, I dare say the Red Doctorswill have their chance at me, all in good time. But first there arecertain things which must be taken care of. " He looked up at theattendant. "You're quite certain that the ship has been decontaminated?"

The attendant nodded. "Yes, sir. "

"And the crewmen?"

"It's safe to talk to them, sir, as long as you avoid physical contact. "

The Black Doctor grunted and wheezed and settled himself down in a seat. "All right now, gentlemen, " he said to the three, "let's have your storyof this affair in the Brucker system, right from the start. "

"But we sent in a full report, " Tiger said. 

"I'm aware of that, you idiot. I have waded through your report, allthirty-five pages of it, and I only wish you hadn't been solong-winded. Now I want to hear what happened directly from you. Well?"

The three doctors looked at each other. Then Jack began the story, starting with the first hesitant "greeting" that had come through tothem. He told everything that had happened without embellishments: theirfirst analysis of the nature of the problem, the biochemical and medicalsurvey that they ran on the afflicted people, his own failure to makethe diagnosis, the incident of Fuzzy's sudden affliction, and thestrange solution that had finally come from it. As he talked the BlackDoctor sat back with his eyes half closed, his face blank, listening andnodding from time to time as the story proceeded. 

And Jack was carefully honest and fair in his account. "We were all ofus lost, until Dal Timgar saw the significance of what had happened toFuzzy, " he said. "His idea of putting the creature through the filtergave us our first specimen of the isolated virus, and showed us how toobtain the antibody. Then after we saw what happened with our initialseries of injections, we were really at sea, and by then we couldn'treach a hospital ship for help of any kind. " He went on to relate Dal'sidea that the virus itself might be the intelligent creature, andrecounted the things that happened after Dal went down to talk to thespokesman again with Fuzzy on his shoulder. 

Through it all the Black Doctor listened sourly, glancing occasionallyat Dal and saying nothing. "So is that all?" he said when Jack hadfinished. 

"Not quite, " Jack said. "I want it to be on the record that it was myfailure in diagnosis that got us into trouble. I don't want anymisunderstanding about that. If I'd had the wit to think beyond the endof my nose, there wouldn't have been any problem. "

"I see, " the Black Doctor said. He pointed to Dal. "So it was this onewho really came up with the answers and directed the whole program onthis problem, is that right?"

"That's right, " Jack said firmly. "He should get all the credit. "

Something stirred in Dal's mind and he felt Fuzzy snuggling in tightlyto his side. He could feel the cold hostility in the Black Doctor'smind, and he started to say something, but the Black Doctor cut him off. "Do you agree to that also, Dr. Martin?" he asked Tiger. 

"I certainly do, " Tiger said. "I'll back up the Blue Doctor right downthe line. "

The Black Doctor smiled unpleasantly and nodded. "Well, I'm certainlyhappy to hear you say that, gentlemen. I might say that it is a verygreat relief to me to hear it from your own testimony. Because this timethere shouldn't be any argument from either of you as to just where theresponsibility lies, and I'm relieved to know that I can completelyexonerate you two, at any rate. "

Jack Alvarez's jaw went slack and he stared at the Black Doctor asthough he hadn't heard him properly. "Exonerate us?" he said. "Exonerateus from what?"

"From the charges of incompetence, malpractice and conduct unbecoming toa physician which I am lodging against your colleague in the Red Servicehere, " the Black Doctor said angrily. "Of course, I was confident thatneither of you two could have contributed very much to this bunglingmess, but it is reassuring to have your own statements of that fact onthe record. They should carry more weight in a Council hearing than anyplea I might make in your behalf. "

"But--but what do you mean by a Council hearing?" Tiger stammered. "Idon't understand you! This--this problem is _solved_. We solved it as apatrol team, all of us. We sent in a brand new medical service contractfrom those people. .. . "

"Oh, yes. _That!_" The Black Doctor drew a long pink dispatch sheet froman inner pocket and opened it out. The doctors could see the photoreproductions of their signatures at the bottom. "Fortunately--for youtwo--this bit of nonsense was brought to my attention at the first relaystation that received it. I personally accepted it and withdrew it fromthe circuit before it could reach Hospital Earth for filing. "

Slowly, as they watched him, he ripped the pink dispatch sheet into adozen pieces and tossed it into the disposal vent. "So much for that, "he said slowly. "I can choose to overlook your foolishness in trying tocloud the important issues with a so-called 'contract' to divertattention, but I'm afraid I can't pay much attention to it, nor allow itto appear in the general report. And of course I am forced to classifythe _Lancet_ as a plague ship until a bacteriological and virologicalexamination has been completed on both ship and crew. The planet itselfwill be considered a galactic plague spot until proper measures havebeen taken to insure its decontamination. "

The Black Doctor drew some papers from another pocket and turned to DalTimgar. "As for you, the charges are clear enough. You have broken themost fundamental rules of good judgment and good medicine in handlingthe 31 Brucker affair. You have permitted a General Practice Patrol shipto approach a potentially dangerous plague spot without any notificationof higher authorities. You have undertaken a biochemical and medicalsurvey for which you had neither the proper equipment nor the trainingqualifications, and you exposed your ship and your crewmates to anincredible risk in landing on such a planet. You are responsible foruntold--possibly fatal--damage to over two hundred individuals of therace that called on you for help. You have even subjected the creaturethat depends upon your own race for its life and support to virtualslavery and possible destruction; and finally, you had the audacity totry to cover up your bungling with claims of arranging a medical servicecontract with an uninvestigated race. "

The Black Doctor broke off as an attendant came in the door andwhispered something in his ear. Doctor Tanner shook his head angrily, "Ican't be bothered now!"

"They say it's urgent, sir. "

"Yes, it's always urgent. " The Black Doctor heaved to his feet. "If itweren't for this miserable incompetent here, I wouldn't have to betaking precious time away from my more important duties. " He scowled atthe _Lancet_ crewmen. "You will excuse me for a moment, " he said, anddisappeared into the communications room. 

The moment he was gone from the room, Jack and Tiger were talking atonce. "He couldn't really be serious, " Tiger said. "It's impossible! Notone of those charges would hold up under investigation. "

"Well, I think it's a frame-up, " Jack said, his voice tight with anger. "I knew that some people on Hospital Earth were out to get you, but Idon't see how a Four-star Black Doctor could be a party to such a thing. Either someone has been misinforming him, or he just doesn't understandwhat happened. "

Dal shook his head. "He understands, all right, and he's the one who'sdetermined to get me out of medicine. This is a flimsy excuse, but hehas to use it, because it's now or never. He knows that if we bring in acontract with a new planet, and it's formally ratified, we'll all getour Stars and he'd never be able to block me again. And Black DoctorTanner is going to be certain that I don't get that Star, or dietrying. "

"But this is completely unfair, " Jack protested. "He's turning our ownwords against you! You can bet that he'll have a survey crew down onthat planet in no time, bringing home a contract just the same as theone we wrote, and there won't be any questions asked about it. "

"Except that I'll be out of the service, " Dal said. "Don't worry. You'llget the credit in the long run. When all the dust settles, he'll be surethat you two are named as agents for the contract. He doesn't want tohurt you, it's me that he's out to get. "

"Well, he won't get away with it, " Tiger said. "We can see to that. It'snot too late to retract our stories. If he thinks he can get rid of youwith something that wasn't your fault, he's going to find out that hehas to get rid of a lot more than just you. "

But Dal was shaking his head. "Not this time, Tiger. This time you keepout of it. "

"What do you mean, keep out of it?" Tiger cried. "Do you think I'm goingto stand by quietly and watch him cut you down?"

"That's exactly what you're going to do, " Dal said sharply. "I meantwhat I said. I want you to keep your mouth shut. Don't say anything moreat all, just let it be. "

"But I can't stand by and do nothing! When a friend of mine needshelp--"

"Can't you get it through your thick skull that this time I don't wantyour help?" Dal said. "Do me a favor this time. _Leave me alone. _ Don'tstick your thumb in the pie. "

Tiger just stared at the little Garvian. "Look, Dal, all I'm trying todo--"

"I know what you're trying to do, " Dal snapped, "and I don't want anypart of it. I don't need your help, I don't _want_ it. Why do you haveto force it down my throat?"

There was a long silence. Then Tiger spread his hands helplessly. "Okay, " he said, "if that's the way you want it. " He turned away fromDal, his big shoulders slumping. "I've only been trying to make up forsome of the dirty breaks you've been handed since you came to HospitalEarth. "

"I know that, " Dal said, "and I've appreciated it. Sometimes it's beenthe only thing that's kept me going. But that doesn't mean that you ownme. Friendship is one thing; proprietorship is something else. I'm notyour private property. "

He saw the look on Tiger's face, as though he had suddenly turned andslapped him viciously across the face. "Look, I know it sounds awful, but I can't help it. I don't want to hurt you, and I don't want tochange things with us, but _I'm a person just like you are_. I can't goon leaning on you any longer. Everybody has to stand on his ownsomewhere along the line. You do, and I do, too. And that goes for Jack, too. "

They heard the door to the communications shack open, and the BlackDoctor was back in the room. "Well?" he said. "Am I interruptingsomething?" He glanced sharply at the tight-lipped doctors. "The callwas from the survey section, " he went on blandly. "A survey crew is onits way to 31 Brucker to start gathering some useful information on thesituation. But that is neither here nor there. You have heard thecharges against the Red Doctor here. Is there anything any of you wantto say?"

Tiger and Jack looked at each other. The silence in the room wasprofound. 

The Black Doctor turned to Dal. "And what about you?"

"I have something to say, but I'd like to talk to you alone. "

"As you wish. You two will return to your quarters and stay there. "

"The attendant, too, " Dal said. 

The Black Doctor's eyes glinted and met Dal's for a moment. Then heshrugged and nodded to his attendant. "Step outside, please. We have aprivate matter to discuss. "

The Black Doctor turned his attention to the papers on the desk as Dalstood before him with Fuzzy sitting in the crook of his arm. From themoment that the notice of the inspection ship's approach had come to the_Lancet_, Dal had known what was coming. He had been certain what thepurpose of the detainment was, and who the inspector would be, yet hehad not really been worried. In the back of his mind, a small, comfortable thought had been sustaining him. 

It didn't really matter how hostile or angry Black Doctor Tanner mightbe; he knew that in a last-ditch stand there was one way the BlackDoctor could be handled. 

He remembered the dramatic shift from hostility to friendliness amongthe Bruckians when he had come down from the ship with Fuzzy on hisshoulder. Before then, he had never considered using his curious powerto protect himself and gain an end; but since then, without evenconsciously bringing it to mind, he had known that the next time wouldbe easier. If it ever came to a showdown with Black Doctor Tanner, atrap from which he couldn't free himself, there was still this way. _TheBlack Doctor would never know what happened_, he thought. _It would justseem to him, suddenly, that he had been looking at things the wrong way. No one would ever know. _

But he knew, even as the thought came to mind, that this was not so. Now, face to face with the showdown, he knew that it was no good. Oneperson would know what had happened: himself. On 31 Brucker, he hadconvinced himself that the end justified the means; here it wasdifferent. 

For a moment, as Black Doctor Tanner stared up at him through thehorn-rimmed glasses, Dal wavered. Why should he hesitate to protecthimself? he thought angrily. This attack against him was false andunfair, trumped up for the sole purpose of destroying his hopes anddriving him out of the Service. Why shouldn't he grasp at any means, fair or unfair, to fight it?

But he could hear the echo of Black Doctor Arnquist's words in his mind:_I beg of you not to use it. No matter what happens, don't use it. _ Ofcourse, Doctor Arnquist would never know, for sure, that he had brokenfaith . .. But _he_ would know. .. . 

"Well, " Black Doctor Tanner was saying, "speak up. I can't waste muchmore time dealing with you. If you have something to say, say it. "

Dal sighed. He lifted Fuzzy down and slipped him gently into his jacketpocket. "These charges against me are not true, " he said. 

The Black Doctor shrugged. "Your own crewmates support them with theirstatements. "

"That's not the point. They're not true, and you know it as well as Ido. You've deliberately rigged them up to build a case against me. "

The Black Doctor's face turned dark and his hands clenched on the paperson the desk. "Are you suggesting that I have nothing better to do thanto rig false charges against one probationer out of seventy-fivethousand traveling the galaxy?"

"I'm suggesting that we are alone here, " Dal said. "Nobody else islistening. Just for once, right now, we can be honest. We both knowwhat you're trying to do to me. I'd just like to hear you admit itonce. "

The Black Doctor slammed his fist down on the table. "I don't have tolisten to insolence like this, " he roared. 

"Yes, you do, " Dal said. "Just this once. Then I'll be through. "Suddenly Dal's words were tumbling out of control, and his whole bodywas trembling with anger. "You have been determined from the verybeginning that I should never finish the medical training that Istarted. You've tried to block me time after time, in every way youcould think of. You've almost succeeded, but never quite made it untilthis time. But now you _have_ to make it. If that contract were to gothrough I'd get my Star, and you'd never again be able to do anythingabout it. So it's now or never if you're going to break me. "

"Nonsense!" the Black Doctor stormed. "I wouldn't lower myself to meddlewith your kind. The charges speak for themselves. "

"Not if you look at them carefully. You claim I failed to notifyHospital Earth that we had entered a plague area--but our records of ourcontact with the planet prove that we did only what any patrol shipwould have done when the call came in. We didn't have enough informationto know that there was a plague there, and when we finally did know thetruth we could no longer make contact with Hospital Earth. You claimthat I brought harm to two hundred of the natives there, yet if youstudy our notes and records, you will see that our errors there wereunavoidable. We couldn't have done anything else under thecircumstances, and if we hadn't done what we did, we would have beenignoring the basic principles of diagnosis and treatment which we'vebeen taught. And your charges don't mention that by possibly harming twohundred of the Bruckians, we found a way to save two million of themfrom absolute destruction. "

The Black Doctor glared at him. "The charges will stand up, I'll see tothat. "

"Oh, I'm sure you will! You can ram them through and make them stickbefore anybody ever has a chance to examine them carefully. You have thepower to do it. And by the time an impartial judge could review all therecords, your survey ship will have been there and gathered so much moredata and muddied up the field so thoroughly that no one will ever becertain that the charges aren't true. But you and I know that theywouldn't really hold up under inspection. We know that they're falseright down the line and that you're the one who is responsible forthem. "

The Black Doctor grew darker, and he trembled with rage as he drewhimself to his feet. Dal could feel his hatred almost like a physicalblow and his voice was almost a shriek. 

"All right, " he said, "if you insist, then the charges are lies, made upspecifically to break you, and I'm going to push them through if I haveto jeopardize my reputation to do it. You could have bowed outgracefully at any time along the way and saved yourself dishonor anddisgrace, but you wouldn't do it. Now, I'm going to force you to. I'veworked my lifetime long to build the reputation of Hospital Earth and ofthe Earthmen that go out to all the planets as representatives. I'veworked to make the Confederation respect Hospital Earth and the Earthmenwho are her doctors. You don't belong here with us. You forced yourselfin, you aren't an Earthman and you don't have the means or resources tobe a doctor from Hospital Earth. If you succeed, a thousand others willfollow in your footsteps, chipping away at the reputation that we haveworked to build, and I'm not going to allow one incompetent alienbungler pretending to be a surgeon to walk in and destroy the thing I'vefought to build--"

The Black Doctor's voice had grown shrill, almost out of control. Butnow suddenly he broke off, his mouth still working, and his face wentdeathly white. The finger he was pointing at Dal wavered and fell. Heclutched at his chest, his breath coming in great gasps and staggeredback into the chair. "Something's happened, " his voice croaked. "I can'tbreathe. "

Dal stared at him in horror for a moment, then leaped across the roomand jammed his thumb against the alarm bell. 

CHAPTER 13

THE TRIAL

Red Doctor Dal Timgar knew at once that there would be no problem indiagnosis here. The Black Doctor slumped back in his seat, gasping forair, his face twisted in pain as he labored just to keep on breathing. Tiger and Jack burst into the room, and Dal could tell that they knewinstantly what had happened. 

"Coronary, " Jack said grimly. 

Dal nodded. "The question is, just how bad. "

"Get the cardiograph in here. We'll soon see. "

But the electrocardiograph was not needed to diagnose the nature of thetrouble. All three doctors had seen the picture often enough--thesudden, massive blockage of circulation to the heart that was so commonto creatures with central circulatory pumps, the sort of catastrophicaccident which could cause irreparable crippling or sudden death withina matter of minutes. 

Tiger injected some medicine to ease the pain, and started oxygen tohelp the labored breathing, but the old man's color did not improve. Hewas too weak to talk; he just lay helplessly gasping for air as theylifted him up onto a bed. Then Jack took an electrocardiograph tracingand shook his head. 

"We'd better get word back to Hospital Earth, and fast, " he saidquietly. "He just waited a little too long for that cardiac transplant, that's all. This is a bad one. Tell them we need a surgeon out here justas fast as they can move, or the Black Service is going to have a deadphysician on its hands. "

There was a sound across the room, and the Black Doctor motioned feeblyto Tiger. "The cardiogram, " he gasped. "Let me see it. "

"There's nothing for you to see, " Tiger said. "You mustn't do anythingto excite yourself. "

"Let me see it. " Dr. Tanner took the thin strip of paper and ran itquickly through his fingers. Then he dropped it on the bed and lay hishead back hopelessly. "Too late, " he said, so softly they could hardlyhear him. "Too late for help now. "

Tiger checked his blood pressure and listened to his heart. "It willonly take a few hours to get help, " he said. "You rest and sleep now. There's plenty of time. "

He joined Dal and Jack in the corridor. "I'm afraid he's right, thistime, " he said. "The damage is severe, and he hasn't the strength tohold out very long. He might last long enough for a surgeon andoperating team to get here, but I doubt it. We'd better get the wordoff. "

A few moments later he put the earphones aside. "It'll take six hoursfor the nearest help to get here, " he said. "Maybe five and a half ifthey really crowd it. But when they get a look at that cardiogram on thescreen they'll just throw up their hands. He's got to have a transplant, nothing less, and even if we can keep him alive until a surgical teamgets here the odds are a thousand to one against his surviving thesurgery. "

"Well, he's been asking for it, " Jack said. "They've been trying to gethim into the hospital for a cardiac transplant for years. Everybody'sknown that one of those towering rages would get him sooner or later. "

"Maybe he'll hold on better than we think, " Dal said. "Let's watch andwait. "

But the Black Doctor was not doing well. Moment by moment he grewweaker, laboring harder for air as his blood pressure crept slowly down. Half an hour later the pain returned; Tiger took another tracing whileDal checked his venous pressure and shock level. 

As he finished, Dal felt the Black Doctor's eyes on him. "It's going tobe all right, " he said. "There'll be time for help to come. "

Feebly the Black Doctor shook his head. "No time, " he said. "Can't waitthat long. " Dal could see the fear in the old man's eyes. His lips beganto move again as though there were something more he wanted to say; butthen his face hardened, and he turned his head away helplessly. 

Dal walked around the bed and looked down at the tracing, comparing itwith the first one that was taken. "What do you think, Tiger?"

"It's no good. He'll never make it for five more hours. "

"What about right now?"

Tiger shook his head. "It's a terrible surgical risk. "

"But every minute of waiting makes it worse, right?"

"That's right. "

"Then I think we'll stop waiting, " Dal said. "We have a prosthetic heartin condition for use, don't we?"

"Of course. "

"Good. Get it ready now. " It seemed as though someone else weretalking. "You'll have to be first assistant, Tiger. We'll get him ontothe heart-lung machine, and if we don't have help available by then, we'll have to try to complete the transplant. Jack, you'll giveanaesthesia, and it will be a tricky job. Try to use local blocks asmuch as you can, and have the heart-lung machine ready well in advance. We'll only have a few seconds to make the shift. Now let's get moving. "

Tiger stared at him. "Are you sure that you want to do this?"

"I never wanted anything less in my life, " Dal said fervently. "But doyou think he can survive until a Hospital Ship arrives?"

"No. "

"Then it seems to me that I don't have any choice. You two don't need toworry. This is a surgical problem now, and I'll take fullresponsibility. "

The Black Doctor was watching him, and Dal knew he had heard theconversation. Now the old man lay helplessly as they moved about gettingthe surgical room into preparation. Jack prepared the anaesthetics, checked and rechecked the complex heart-lung machine which couldartificially support circulation and respiration at the time that thedamaged heart was separated from its great vessels. The transplantprosthetic heart had been grown in the laboratories on Hospital Earthfrom embryonic tissue; Tiger removed it from the frozen specimen lockerand brought it to normal body temperature in the special warm salinebath designed for the purpose. 

Throughout the preparations the Black Doctor lay watching, stillconscious enough to recognize what was going on, attempting from time totime to shake his head in protest but not quite succeeding. Finally Dalcame to the bedside. "Don't be afraid, " he said gently to the old man. "It isn't safe to try to delay until the ship from Hospital Earth canget here. Every minute we wait is counting against you. I think I canmanage the transplant if I start now. I know you don't like it, but I amthe Red Doctor in authority on this ship. If I have to order you, Iwill. "

The Black Doctor lay silent for a moment, staring at Dal. Then the fearseemed to fade from his face, and the anger disappeared. With a greateffort he moved his head to nod. "All right, son, " he said softly. "Dothe best you know how. "

 * * * * *

Dal knew from the moment he made the decision to go ahead that the thinghe was undertaking was all but hopeless. 

There was little or no talk as the three doctors worked at the operatingtable. The overhead light in the ship's tiny surgery glowed brightly;the only sound in the room was the wheeze of the anaesthesia apparatus, the snap of clamps and the doctors' own quiet breathing as they workeddesperately against time. 

Dal felt as if he were in a dream, working like an automaton, goingthrough mechanical motions that seemed completely unrelated to theliving patient that lay on the operating table. In his training he hadassisted at hundreds of organ transplant operations; he himself had donedozens of cardiac transplants, with experienced surgeons assisting andguiding him until the steps of the procedure had become almost secondnature. On Hospital Earth, with the unparalleled medical facilitiesavailable there, and with well-trained teams of doctors, anaesthetistsand nurses the technique of replacing an old worn-out damaged heart witha new and healthy one had become commonplace. It posed no more threat toa patient than a simple appendectomy had posed three centuries before. 

But here in the patrol ship's operating room under emergency conditionsthere seemed little hope of success. Already the Black Doctor hadsuffered violent shock from the damage that had occurred in his heart. Already he was clinging to life by a fragile thread; the additionalshock of the surgery, of the anaesthesia and the necessary conversion tothe heart-lung machine while the delicate tissues of the new heart werefitted and sutured into place vessel by vessel was more than any patientcould be expected to survive. 

Yet Dal had known when he saw the second cardiogram that the attemptwould have to be made. Now he worked swiftly, his frail body engulfed inthe voluminous surgical gown, his thin fingers working carefully withthe polished instruments. Speed and skill were all that could save theBlack Doctor now, to offer him the one chance in a thousand that he hadfor survival. 

But the speed and skill had to be Dal's. Dal knew that, and theknowledge was like a lead weight strapped to his shoulders. If BlackDoctor Hugo Tanner was fighting for his life now, Dal knew that he toowas fighting for his life--the only kind of life that he wanted, thelife of a physician. 

Black Doctor Tanner's antagonism to him as an alien, as an incompetent, as one who was unworthy to wear the collar and cuff of a physician fromHospital Earth, was common knowledge. Dal realized with perfect claritythat if he failed now, his career as a physician would be over; no one, not even himself, would ever be entirely certain that he had notsomehow, in some dim corner of his mind, allowed himself to fail. 

Yet if he had not made the attempt and the Black Doctor had died beforehelp had come, there would always be those who would accuse him ofdelaying on purpose. 

His mouth was dry; he longed for a drink of water, even though he knewthat no water could quench this kind of thirst. His fingers grew numb ashe worked, and moment by moment the sense of utter hopelessness grewstronger in his mind. Tiger worked stolidly across the table from him, inexpert help at best because of the sketchy surgical training he hadhad. Even his solid presence in support here did not lighten the burdenfor Dal. There was nothing that Tiger could do or say that would helpthings or change things now. Even Fuzzy, waiting alone on his perch inthe control room, could not help him now. Nothing could help now but hisown individual skill as a surgeon, and his bitter determination that hemust not and would not fail. 

But his fingers faltered as a thousand questions welled up in his mind. Was he doing this right? This vessel here . .. Clamp it and tie it? Ordissect it out and try to preserve it? This nerve plexus . .. Which onewas it? How important? How were the blood pressure and respirationsdoing? Was the Black Doctor holding his own under the assault of thesurgery?

The more Dal tried to hurry the more he seemed to be wading throughwaist-deep mud, unable to make his fingers do what he wanted them to do. How could he save ten seconds, twenty seconds, a half a minute? Thathalf a minute might make the difference between success or failure, yetthe seconds ticked by swiftly and the procedure was going slowly. 

Too slowly. He reached a point where he thought he could not go on. Hismind was searching desperately for help--any kind of help, something tolean on, something to brace him and give him support. And then quitesuddenly he understood something clearly that had been nibbling at thecorners of his mind for a long time. It was as if someone had snapped ona floodlight in a darkened room, and he saw something he had never seenbefore. 

He saw that from the first day he had stepped down from the Garvian shipthat had brought him to Hospital Earth to begin his medical training, hehad been relying upon crutches to help him. 

Black Doctor Arnquist had been a crutch upon whom he could lean. Tiger, for all his clumsy good-heartedness and for all the help and protectionhe had offered, had been a crutch. Fuzzy, who had been by his side sincethe day he was born, was still another kind of crutch to fall back on, away out, a port of haven in the storm. They were crutches, every one, and he had leaned on them heavily. 

But now there was no crutch to lean on. He had a quick mind with goodtraining. He had two nimble hands that knew their job, and two legs thatwere capable of supporting his weight, frail as they were. He knew nowthat he had to stand on them squarely, for the first time in his life. 

And suddenly he realized that this was as it should be. It seemed soclear, so obvious and unmistakable that he wondered how he could havefailed to recognize it for so long. If he could not depend on himself, then Black Doctor Hugo Tanner would have been right all along. If hecould not do this job that was before him on his own strength, standingon his own two legs without crutches to lean on, how could he claim tobe a competent physician? What right did he have to the goal he soughtif he had to earn it on the strength of the help of others? It was _he_who wanted to be a Star Surgeon--not Fuzzy, not Tiger, nor anyone else. 

He felt his heart thudding in his chest, and he saw the operation beforehim as if he were standing in an amphitheater peering down over someother surgeon's shoulder. Suddenly everything else was gone from hismind but the immediate task at hand. His fingers began to move moreswiftly, with a confidence he had never felt before. The decisions to bemade arose, and he made them without hesitation, and knew as he madethem that they were right. 

And for the first time the procedure began to move. He murmuredinstructions to Jack from time to time, and placed Tiger's clumsy handsin the places he wanted them for retraction. "Not there, back a little, "he said. "That's right. Now hold this clamp and release it slowly whileI tie, then reclamp it. Slowly now . .. That's the way! Jack, check thatpressure again. "

It seemed as though someone else were doing the surgery, directing hishands step by step in the critical work that had to be done. Dal placedthe connections to the heart-lung machine perfectly, and moved with newswiftness and confidence as the great blood vessels were clamped off andthe damaged heart removed. A quick check of vital signs, chemistries, oxygenation, a sharp instruction to Jack, a caution to Tiger, and thenew prosthetic heart was in place. He worked now with painstaking care, manipulating the micro-sutures that would secure the new vessels to theold so firmly that they were almost indistinguishable from a healedwound, and he knew that it was going _right_ now, that whether thepatient ultimately survived or not, he had made the right decision andhad carried it through with all the skill at his command. 

And then the heart-lung machine fell silent again, and the carefullyapplied nodal stimulator flicked on and off, and slowly, at firsthesitantly, then firmly and vigorously, the new heart began its endlesspumping chore. The Black Doctor's blood pressure moved up to a healthylevel and stabilized; the gray flesh of his face slowly became suffusedwith healthy pink. It was over, and Dal was walking out of the surgery, his hands trembling so violently that he could hardly get his gown off. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, and he could see the silentpride in the others' faces as they joined him in the dressing room tochange clothes. 

He knew then that no matter what happened he had vindicated himself. Half an hour later, back in the sickbay, the Black Doctor was awake, breathing slowly and easily without need of supplemental oxygen. Onlythe fine sweat standing out on his forehead gave indication of theordeal he had been through. 

Swiftly and clinically Dal checked the vital signs as the old manwatched him. He was about to turn the pressure cuff over to Jack andleave when the Black Doctor said, "Wait. "

Dal turned to him. "Yes, sir?"

"You did it?" the Black Doctor said softly. 

"Yes, sir. "

"It's finished? The transplant is done?"

"Yes, " Dal said. "It went well, and you can rest now. You were a goodpatient. "

For the first time Dal saw a smile cross the old man's face. "A foolishpatient, perhaps, " he said, so softly that no one but Dal could hear, "but not so foolish now, not so foolish that I cannot recognize a gooddoctor when I see one. "

And with a smile he closed his eyes and went to sleep. 

CHAPTER 14

STAR SURGEON

It was amazing to Dal Timgar just how good it seemed to be back onHospital Earth again. 

In the time he had been away as a crewman of the _Lancet_, the seasonshad changed, and the port of Philadelphia lay under the steaming summersun. As Dal stepped off the shuttle ship to join the hurrying crowds inthe great space-port, it seemed almost as though he were coming home. 

He thought for a moment of the night not so long before when he hadwaited here for the shuttle to Hospital Seattle, to attend the meetingof the medical training council. He had worn no uniform then, not eventhe collar and cuff of the probationary physician, and he remembered hisdespair that night when he had thought that his career as a physicianfrom Hospital Earth was at an end. 

Now he was returning by shuttle from Hospital Seattle to the port ofPhiladelphia again, completing the cycle that had been started manymonths before. But things were different now. The scarlet cape of theRed Service of Surgery hung from his slender shoulders now, and thelight of the station room caught the polished silver emblem on hiscollar. It was a tiny bit of metal, but its significance was enormous. It announced to the world Dal Timgar's final and permanent acceptance asa physician; but more, it symbolized the far-reaching distances he hadalready traveled, and would travel again, in the service of HospitalEarth. 

It was the silver star of the Star Surgeon. 

The week just past had been both exciting and confusing. The hospitalship had arrived five hours after Black Doctor Hugo Tanner had recoveredfrom his anaesthesia, moving in on the _Lancet_ in frantic haste andstarting the shipment of special surgical supplies, anaesthetics andmaintenance equipment across in lifeboats almost before contact had beenstabilized. A large passenger boat hurtled away from the hospital ship'sside, carrying a pair of Four-star surgeons, half a dozen Three-starSurgeons, two Radiologists, two Internists, a dozen nurses and anotherFour-star Black Doctor across to the _Lancet_; and when they arrived atthe patrol ship's entrance lock, they discovered that their haste hadbeen in vain. 

It was like Grand Rounds in the general wards of Hospital Philadelphia, with the Four-star Surgeons in the lead as they tramped aboard thepatrol ship. They found Black Doctor Tanner sitting quietly at hisbedside reading a journal of pathology and taking notes. He glared up atthem when they burst in the door without even knocking. 

"But are you feeling well, sir?" the chief surgeon asked him for thethird time. 

"Of course I'm feeling well. Do you think I'd be sitting here if Iweren't?" the Black Doctor growled. "Dr. Timgar is my surgeon and thephysician in charge of this case. Talk to him. He can give you all thedetails of the matter. "

"You mean you permitted a probationary physician to perform this kind ofsurgery?" The Four-star Surgeon cried incredulously. 

"I did not!" the Black Doctor snapped. "He had to drag me kicking andscreaming into the operating room. But fortunately for me, thisparticular probationary physician had the courage of his convictions, aswell as wit enough to realize that I would not survive if he waited foryou to gather your army together. But I think you will find the surgerywas handled with excellent skill. Again, I must refer you to Dr. Timgarfor the details. I was not paying attention to the technique of thesurgery, I assure you. "

"But sir, " the chief surgeon broke in, "how could there have beensurgery of any sort here? The dispatch that came to us listed the_Lancet_ as a plague ship--"

"_Plague ship!_" the Black Doctor exploded. "Oh, yes. Egad!I--hum!--imagine that the dispatcher must have gotten his signals mixedsomehow. Well, I suppose you want to examine me. Let's have it overwith. "

The doctors examined him within an inch of his life. They exhaustedevery means of physical, laboratory and radiological examination shortof re-opening his chest and looking in, and at last the chief surgeonwas forced reluctantly to admit that there was nothing left for him todo but provide post-operative follow-up care for the irascible old man. 

And by the time the examination was over and the Black Doctor was movedaboard the hospital ship, word had come through official channels to the_Lancet_ announcing that the quarantine order had been a dispatcher'sunfortunate error, and directing the ship to return at once to HospitalEarth with the new contract that had been signed on 31 Brucker VII. Thecrewmen of the _Lancet_ had special orders to report immediately to themedical training council at Hospital Seattle upon arrival, in order togive their formal General Practice Patrol reports and to receive theirappointments respectively as Star Physician, Star Diagnostician and StarSurgeon. The orders were signed with the personal mark of Hugo Tanner, Physician of the Black Service of Pathology. 

Now the ceremony and celebration in Hospital Seattle were over, and Dalhad another appointment to keep. He lifted Fuzzy from his elbow andtucked him safely into an inner jacket pocket to protect him from thecrowd in the station, and moved swiftly through to the subway tubes. 

He had expected to see Black Doctor Arnquist at the investmentceremonies, but there had been neither sign nor word from him. Dal triedto reach him after the ceremonies were over; all he could learn was thatthe Black Doctor was unavailable. And then a message had come through toDal under the official Hospital Earth headquarters priority, requestinghim to present himself at once at the grand council building at HospitalPhiladelphia for an interview of the utmost importance. 

He followed the directions on the dispatch now, and reached the grandcouncil building well ahead of the appointed time. He followed corridorsand rode elevators until he reached the twenty-second story office suitewhere he had been directed to report. The whole building seemed alivewith bustle, as though something of enormous importance was going on;high-ranking physicians of all the services were hurrying about, gathering in little groups at the elevators and talking among themselvesin hushed voices. Even more strange, Dal saw delegation after delegationof alien creatures moving through the building, some in the specialatmosphere-maintaining devices necessary for their survival on Earth, some characteristically alone and unaccompanied, others in the companyof great retinues of underlings. Dal paused in the main concourse ofthe building as he saw two such delegations arrive by special car fromthe port of Philadelphia. 

"Odd, " he said quietly, reaching in to stroke Fuzzy's head. "Quite agathering of the clans, eh? What do you think? Last time I saw agathering like this was back at home during one of the centennialconclaves of the Galactic Confederation. "

On the twenty-second floor, a secretary ushered him into an inneroffice. There he found Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist, in busyconference with a Blue Doctor, a Green Doctor and a surgeon. The BlackDoctor looked up, and beamed. "That will be all right now, gentlemen, "he said. "I'll be in touch with you directly. "

He waited until the others had departed. Then he crossed the room andpractically hugged Dal in delight. "It's good to see you, boy, " he said, "and above all, it's good to see that silver star at last. You and yourlittle pink friend have done a good job, a far better job than I thoughtyou would do, I must admit. "

Dal perched Fuzzy on his shoulder. "But what is this about an interview?Why did you want to see me, and what are all these people doing here?"

Dr. Arnquist laughed. "Don't worry, " he said. "You won't have to stayfor the council meeting. It will be a long boring session, I fear. Doubtless every single one of these delegates at some time in the nextfew days will be standing up to give us a three hour oration, and it ismy ill fortune as a Four-star Black Doctor to have to sit and listen andsmile through it all. But in the end, it will be worth it, and I thoughtthat you should at least know that your name will be mentioned manytimes during these sessions. "

"My name?"

"You didn't know that you were a guinea pig, did you?" the Black Doctorsaid. 

"I . .. I'm afraid I didn't. "

"An unwitting tool, so to speak, " the Black Doctor chuckled. "You know, of course, that the Galactic Confederation has been delaying andstalling any action on Hospital Earth's application for full status asone of the Confederation powers and for a seat on the council. We hadfulfilled two criteria for admission without difficulty--we had resolvedour problems at home so that we were free from war on our own planet, and we had a talent that is much needed and badly in demand in thegalaxy, a job to do that would fit into the Confederation'sorganization. But the Confederation has always had a third criterion forits membership, a criterion that Hospital Earth could not so easilyprove or demonstrate. "

The Black Doctor smiled. "After all, there could be no place in a trueConfederation of worlds for any one race of people that considereditself superior to all the rest. No race can be admitted to theConfederation until its members have demonstrated that they are capableof tolerance, willing to accept the members of other races on an equalfooting. And it has always been the nature of Earthmen to be intolerant, to assume that one who looks strange and behaves differently mustsomehow be inferior. "

The Black Doctor crossed the room and opened a folder on the desk. "Youcan read the details some other time, if you like. You were selected bythe Galactic Confederation from a thousand possible applicants, to serveas a test case, to see if a place could be made for you on HospitalEarth. No one here was told of your position--not even you--althoughcertain of us suspected the truth. The Confederation wanted to see if awell-qualified, likeable and intelligent creature from another worldwould be accepted and elevated to equal rank as a physician withEarthmen. "

Dal stared at him. "And I was the one?"

"You were the one. It was a struggle, all right, but Hospital Earth hasfinally satisfied the Confederation. At the end of this conclave we willbe admitted to full membership and given a permanent seat and vote inthe galactic council. Our probationary period will be over. But enoughof that. What about you? What are your plans? What do you propose to donow that you have that star on your collar?"

They talked then about the future. Tiger Martin had been appointed tothe survey crew returning to 31 Brucker VII, at his own request, whileJack was accepting a temporary teaching post in the great diagnosticclinic at Hospital Philadelphia. There were a dozen things that Dal hadconsidered, but for the moment he wanted only to travel from medicalcenter to medical center on Hospital Earth, observing and studying inorder to decide how he would best like to use his abilities and hisposition as a Physician from Hospital Earth. "It will be in surgery, ofcourse, " he said. "Just where in surgery, or what kind, I don't knowjust yet. But there will be time enough to decide that. "

"Then go along, " Dr. Arnquist said, "with my congratulations andblessing. You have taught us a great deal, and perhaps you have learnedsome things at the same time. "

Dal hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded. "I've learned some things, "he said, "but there's still one thing that I want to do before I go. "

He lifted his little pink friend gently down from his shoulder andrested him in the crook of his arm. Fuzzy looked up at him, blinking hisshoe-button eyes happily. "You asked me once to leave Fuzzy with you, and I refused. I couldn't see then how I could possibly do without him;even the thought was frightening. But now I think I've changed my mind. "

He reached out and placed Fuzzy gently in the Black Doctor's hand. "Iwant you to keep him, " he said. "I don't think I'll need him any more. I'll miss him, but I think it would be better if I don't have him now. Be good to him, and let me visit him once in a while. "

The Black Doctor looked at Dal, and then lifted Fuzzy up to his ownshoulder. For a moment the little creature shivered as if afraid. Thenhe blinked twice at Dal, trustingly, and snuggled in comfortably againstthe Black Doctor's neck. 

Without a word Dal turned and walked out of the office. As he steppeddown the corridor, he waited fearfully for the wave of desolation andloneliness he had felt before when Fuzzy was away from him. 

But there was no hint of those desolate feelings in his mind now. Andafter all, he thought, why should there be? He was not a Garvian anylonger. He was a Star Surgeon from Hospital Earth. 

He smiled as he stepped from the elevator into the main lobby andcrossed through the crowd to the street doors. He pulled his scarletcape tightly around his throat. Drawing himself up to the full height ofwhich he was capable, he walked out of the building and strode down ontothe street. 

 * * * * *

_Also by Alan E. Nourse_

ROCKET TO LIMBO

SCAVENGERS IN SPACE