Star Healer sg-6 Read online

  Four Kelgian DBLFs, two Dewatti EGCLs, three Tralthan FGLIs, three Melfan ELNTs, and two Orligian DBDGs — fourteen in all. But Kelgians are never polite or respectful or capable of much control over their fur, Conway thought as he deliberately turned away from them and looked into the ward.

  “Who’s the joker?” he said.

  No one replied, and Conway, still without looking at them, said, “I have no previous knowledge of the life-form concerned, and my identification is based, therefore, on inference, deduction, and behavioral observation …

  The sarcasm in his voice was probably lost in the translation, and the majority of extraterrestrials were literal-minded to a fault, anyway. He softened his tone as he went on. “I am addressing that entity among you whose species is amoebic in that it can extrude any limbs, sense organs, or protective tegument necessary to the environment or situation in which it finds itself. My guess is that it evolved on a planet with a highly eccentric orbit, and with climatic changes so severe that an incredible degree of physical adaptability was necessary for survival. It became dominant on its world, developed intelligence and a civilization, not by competing in the matter of natural weapons but by refining and perfecting the adaptive capability. When it was faced by natural enemies, the options would be flight, protective mimicry, or the assumption of a shape frightening to the attacker.

  “The speed and accuracy of the mimicry displayed here,” he continued, “particularly in the almost perfect reproduction of behavior patterns, suggests that the entity may be a receptive empath. With such effective means of self-protection available, I would say that the species is impervious to physical damage other than by physical annihilation or the application of ultrahigh temperatures, so that the concept of curative surgery would be a strange one indeed to members of that race. Virtual physical indestructibility would mean that they did not require mechanisms for selfprotection, so they are likely to be advanced in the philosophical sciences but backward in developing their technology.

  “I would identify you,” Conway said, swinging around to face them, “as physiological classification TOBS.”

  He walked rapidly toward the three Orligians, for the good reason that there should have been only two of them. Quickly but gently he reached out to their shoulders and slipped a finger between the straps of their harnesses and the underlying fur. On the third attempt he could not do it because the harness and the fur would not separate.

  Dryly, Conway said, “Do you have any future plans or ambitions, Doctor Danalta, other than playing practical jokes?”

  For a moment the head and shoulders melted and slumped into what could have been the beginnings of a Melfan carapace — the sort of disquieting metamorphosis, Conway thought, which he would have to get used to — before it firmed back to the Orligian shape.

  “I am most sincerely sorry, Senior Physician,” Danalta said, “if my recent actions have caused you mental distress. The matter of physical shape is normally of complete indifference to me, but I thought that adopting the forms of the people within the hospital would be more convenient for purposes of communication and social intercourse, and I also wished to practice my mimicry as soon and as often as possible before a being who was most likely to spot any inconsistencies. On the ferrycraft I discussed it with the other members of the group, and they agreed to cooperate.

  “My chief purpose in seeking a position at the hospital,” Danalta went on quickly, “was to have the opportunity of working with so large and varied a group of life-forms. To a mimic of my capabilities — and at this point I should say that they are considered greater than average among my people — this establishment represents a tremendous challenge, even though I fully realize that there will be life-forms which I may not be able to reproduce. Regarding the word ‘joker,’ this does not seem to translate into my language. But if I have given offense in this matter, I apologize without reservation.”

  “Your apology is accepted,” Conway said, thinking of some of the harebrained stunts his own group of trainees had been up to many years ago — activities which had only the most tenuous connection with the practice of medicine. He looked at his watch and added, “If you are interested in meeting a large number of different life-forms, Doctor, you will shortly have your wish. All of you, please follow me.”

  But the Orligian who was not an Orligian did not move. It said, “As you rightly deduced, Senior Physician, the practice of medicine is completely foreign to our species. My purpose in coming here is selfish, even pleasurable, rather than idealistic. I shall merely be using my abilities to reassure beings who are suffering from physical malfunctions by mimicking them if there are no members of their own race present to give such reassurance. Or to adapt quickly to environments which others would find lethal so that urgent treatment would not be delayed because of time wasted in the donning of protective envelopes. Or to extrude limbs of a specialized shape or function which might be capable of repairing otherwise inaccessible areas where an organic malfunction had occurred. But I am not, and should not be called, a Doctor.”

  Conway laughed suddenly. He said, “If that is the kind of work you plan to do here, Danalta, we won’t call you anything else.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Like a gigantic, cylindrical Christmas tree Sector Twelve General Hospital hung in the interstellar darkness between the rim of the parent Galaxy and the densely populated star systems of the Greater Magellanic Cloud. In its three hundred and eighty-four levels were reproduced the environments of all the intelligent life-forms known to the Galactic Federation, a biological spectrum ranging from the ultraftigid methane life-forms through the more common oxygen-breathing types up to the weird and wonderful beings who did not breathe, or even eat, but existed by the direct absorption of hard radiation.

  Sector General represented a two-fold miracle of engineering and psychology. Its supply and maintenance were handled by the Monitor Corps — the Federation’s executive and law-enforcement arm — which also saw to its nonmedical administration. But the traditional friction between military and civilian members of the staff did not occur, and neither were there any serious problems among its ten thousand-odd medical personnel, who were composed of nearly seventy differing life-forms with as many different mannerisms, body odors, and ways of looking at life.

  But space was always at a premium in Sector General, and whenever possible the beings who worked together were expected to eat together — though not, of course, of the same food.

  The trainees were lucky enough to find two adjoining tables, unlucky in that the furniture and eating utensils were designed for the use of dwarflike Nidian DBDGs. The vast dining hail catered to the warm-blooded, oxygen-breathing members of the staff, and one look around made plain that different species dined or talked shop or simply gossiped together at the same table. Wrong-size furniture was a discomfort which the newcomers would get used to and, in this instance, things could have been much worse.

  The Melfan’s mandibles were at the right height above the table, and it was no inconvenience for the ELNTs to eat while standing. The Tralthans did everything including sleeping on their six blocky feet. The Keigians could adapt their caterpillar shapes to any type of furniture, and the Orligians, like Conway himself, could sit without too much discomfort on the armrests of the chairs. The tiny Dewatti had no problems at all, and the polymorphic Danalta had taken the shape of a Dewatti.

  “The food-ordering and delivery system is standard,” Conway said, looking from one table to the other, “and the same as that used on the ships which brought you here. If you punch in your physiological classification, the menu will be displayed in your own written language. Except for Danalta. There are no special dietary requirements for the TOBS life-form, I suspect, but no doubt you have preferences? Danalta’“Your pardon, Senior Physician,” the TOBS said. While it watched the dining hall entrance, its body was twisted into a shape impossible for a Dewatti. “My attention was taken by the incredible assortment of beings who come
and go here.”

  “What would you like to eat?” Conway asked patiently.

  The TOBS spoke without turning its Dewatti head. “Virtually anything which is not radioactive or chemically corrosive, Senior Physician. Were nothing else available I could, in a short time, metabolize the material of this dining furniture. But I eat infrequently and will not need to do so again for several of your days.”

  “Fine.” Conway tapped for a steak before going on. “And Danalta, while it is very pleasant, and rare in this establishment, to be addressed properly and with respect, it can be cumbersome. So it is customary to address interns, Junior and Senior Physicians, and even Diagnosticians as Doctor. Have you seen a physiological type which you cannot reproduce?”

  Conway was beginning to feel irritated at the way Danalta kept looking at the entrance while he was speaking, and wondered if it was a trait peculiar to the species and the impoliteness unintentional. Then he nearly choked when he saw that the TOBS had extruded a small eye from the back of its head to watch him.

  “I have certain limitations, Doctor,” it replied. “Shape changing is relatively easy, but I cannot discard physical mass. This …”—it indicated itself—“is a small but very heavy Dewatti. And the entity who has just entered would be very difficult to reproduce.”

  Conway followed the direction of its other eyes, then stood up suddenly and waved.

  “Prilicla!”

  The little being who had just entered the dining hall was a Cinrusskin GLNO — a six-legged, exoskeletal, multiwinged, incredibly fragile insect. The gravity of its home world was one-twelfth Earth normal, and only double sets of gravity nullifiers kept it from being smashed flat against the floor, enabled it to fly or, when the unthinking movements of its more massive colleagues threatened life and ultrafragile limb, to scamper safely along the walls or ceiling. It was impossible for off-worlders to tell Cinrusskins apart; even Cinrusskins could only differentiate between members of the species by the identification of individual emotional radiation. But there was only one GLNO empath on the hospital staff; this one had to be Senior Physician Prilicla.

  The occupants of both tables were watching the little empath as it flew slowly toward them on its wide, iridescent, almost transparent wings. As it came to a gentle halt above them, Conway noticed a faint, erratic trembling in the six pipestem legs and its hover showed definite signs of instability.

  Something was distressing the little Cinrusskin, but Conway did not say anything, because he knew that his own concern was already obvious to the empath. He wondered suddenly if the sight of the GLNO had triggered some deep-seated phobia in one of the new arrivals and it was radiating fear or revulsion with sufficient intensity to affect Prilicla’s coordination.

  He would have to put a stop to that.

  “This is Senior Physician Prilicla,” he said quickly, as if he was making a simple introduction. “It is a native of Cinruss, a GLNO, and possesses a highly developed empathic faculty which, among other uses, is invaluable in detecting and monitoring the condition of deeply unconscious patients. The faculty also makes it highly sensitive to the emotional radiation of colleagues such as ourselves who are conscious. In Prllicla’s presence we must guard against sudden and violent mental reactions, even involuntary reactions such as instinctive fear or dislike at meeting a life-form which, on another species’ home planet, is a predator or the object of a childhood phobia. These feelings and reactions must be controlled and negated to the best of your abilities because they will be experienced with greater intensity by the empath. When you become better acquainted with Prilicla, you will find that it is impossible to have unpleasant feelings toward it.

  “And I apologize, Prilicla, for making you the subject of that impromptu lecture without first asking your permission.”

  “No need, friend Conway. I am aware of your feeling of concern, which was the reason for giving the lecture, and I thank you for it. But no unpleasant feelings exist among this group. Their emotional radiation is composed of surprise, incredulity, and intense curiosity, which I will be pleased to satisfy—”

  “But you’re still shaking Conway began quietly. Uncharacteristically the Cinrusskin ignored him.

  I am also aware of another empath,” it went on, drifting along between the tables until it hovered above the psuedo-Dewatti with the extra eye. “You must be the newly arrived polymorph lifeform from Fotawn. I look forward to working with yoñ, friend Danalta. This is my first encounter with the extremely gifted TOBS classification.”

  “And I with a GLNO, Doctor Prilicla,” Danalta replied as its Dewatti shape slumped and began to overflow the chair in what had to be a pleased reaction at such words from a Senior Physician. “But my empathic faculty is not nearly as sensitive and well developed as yours. It evolved with the shape-changing ability as an early warning of the intentions of nearby predators. Unlike the faculty possessed by your race, which is used as the primary system of nonverbal communication, mine is under voluntary control so that the level of emotional radiation reaching my receptors can be reduced or even cut off at will should it become too distressing.”

  Prilicla agreed that a shutoff was a useful option, and ignoring Conway, they turned to discussing their homeworld environments, the gentle, light-gravity world of Cinruss and Fotawn, the utterly frightful and inimicable planet of the TOBS. The others, to whom Cinruss and Fotawn were little more than names, listened with great interest, only occasionally breaking in with questions.

  Conway, who could be as patient as anyone when all other options were closed to him, concentrated on finishing his meal before the downwash from Prilicla’s wings cooled it into inedibility.

  He was not surprised that the two empaths were getting on well together — that was a law of nature. An emotion-sensitive who by word, deed, or omission caused hostility in the people around it had those same feelings bounced back in its face, so it was in an empath’s own interest to make the atmosphere as pleasant as possible for all concerned. Danalta, apparently, was somewhat different in that it could switch off incoming emotional radiation at will.

  Neither was Conway surprised that the TOBS knew so much about Cinruss and its empathic natives — Danalta had already demonstrated its wide-ranging knowledge about everything and everybody. What did surprise him was that Prilicla seemed to know a lot about Fotawn that had not come up in the present conversation, and Conway had the impression that the knowledge was recently acquired. But from whom?

  Certainly it was not common knowledge in the hospital, Conway thought as he kept his eyes on his dessert, with an occasional glance upward to where Prilicla was maintaining its unstable hover. From habit he did not look at the various unsavory, foul-smelling messes which the others were busy ingesting. Had news of Fotawn and its visiting TOBS leaked, the hospital grapevine would have been twitching with it in its every leaf and branch. So why had Prilicla alone been given the information?

  “I’m curious,” Conway stated during the next lull in the conversation.

  “I know.” The trembling in Prilicla’s limbs increased momentarily. “I am an empath, friend Conway.”

  “And I,” Conway replied, “after the number of years we have worked together, have developed a degree of empathy where you are concerned, little friend. There is a problem.”

  It was a statement rather than a question, and Prilicla’s flying became even more unstable, so that it had to alight on an unoccupied space at the table. When it spoke it seemed to be choosing the words with great care, and Conway reminded himself that the empath was not in the least averse to lying if in so doing it could maintain a pleasant level of emotional radiation in the area.

  “I have had a lengthy meeting with friend O’Mara,” Prilicla said, “during which I was given some disturbing news.

  “Which was?” Conway felt that he should have obtained a degree in extraterrestrial dentistry; on this occasion getting information out of Prilicla was Like pulling teeth.

  “I am sure that I wi
ll adjust to it in time,” the empath replied. “Do not be concerned for me. I … I have been promoted to a position of much greater responsibility and authority. Please understand, friend Conway, I accepted with reluctance.”

  “Congratulations!” Conway was delighted. “And there was no need for the reluctance, or for you to feel badly about it. O’Mara would not give you the job unless he was absolutely sure you could do it. What exactly will you be doing?”

  “I would rather not discuss it here and now, friend Conway.” Prilicla’s tremor was increasing as it forced itself to say something which verged on the disagreeable. “This is not the time or the place to talk shop.”

  Conway choked on his coffee. In this place shop was normally the only subject of conversation, and they both knew it. What was more, the presence of the newcomers should have been no bar, because they would have been interested in listening to a discussion between senior members of staff of matters which they did not quite understand, but which they soon would. He had never known Prilida to behave like this before, and the intensity of his curiosity was making the empath shake even harder.

  “What did O’Mara say to you?” Conway asked firmly, and added, “Exactly.”

  “He said,” Prilicla replied quickly, “that I should assume more responsibility, learn to give orders, and generally throw my weight around. Friend Conway, my physical mass is inconsiderable, my musculature virtually nonexistent, and I feel that the thought processes of the Chief Psychologist are, well, difficult to fathom. But right now I must excuse myself. There are some routine matters to which I must attend on Rhabwar, and I had, in any case, planned on having Lunch in the ambulance ship.”

  Conway did not have to be an empath to know that the empath was uncomfortable and did not want to answer any more questions.

  A few minutes after PriLicla departed, he handed over the trainees to the instructors who had been waiting patiently for them to finish lunch, and he had a few more minutes in which to think before a trio of KeLgian nurses joined the next table and began moaning and twitching their fur at each other. He switched off his translator so that their conversation, a highly scandalous tale about another member of their species, would not distract him.