Code Blue Emergency sg-7 Page 4

  “I didn’t want to come here,” she replied. “I was sent.”

  Chiang covered its eyes suddenly with one hand, a gesture she had never seen it make before. O’Mara looked at her for a moment, then said, “Explain.”

  “When the warriors of the Monitor Corps told us of the many different intelligent species who make up the Galactic Federation,” she replied, “and talked to me at great length about Sector General, where I could meet and work with many of these life-forms, I was curious and interested, but much too frightened by the prospect of meeting not one but nearly seventy different species to risk undergoing an experience that might give me a ruler’s disease. I told everyone who would listen my feelings, and reminded them of my utter lack of competence in relation to the level of surgery practiced here. I was not pretending to modesty. I really was, and am, ignorant. Because I was warrior level, I could not be forced, but it was strongly suggested by my colleagues and local rulers that I come.”

  “Ignorance can be a temporary condition,” O’Mara said. “And it must have been a pretty strong suggestion. Why was it made?”

  “In my hospital I am respected but not liked,” she went on, hoping that the anger in her voice was not reproduced by the translator. “In spite of being one of the first female warrior-surgeons, an innovation in itself, 1 am a traditionalist. I will not tolerate the reduced standards of professional behavior that are becoming increasingly prevalent, and I am critical of colleagues and superiors alike if they become lax. It was suggested to me that if I did not take advantage of the opportunity being offered by the Earth-humans, there would be a continuing increase of the nonmaterial pressures associated with my work as a surgeon. The situation was too complex for me to describe briefly, but my rulers made suggestions to the Monitor Corps, who were very reassuring and persuasive. The Earth-humans pulled while my superiors pushed, and I am here.

  “Now that I am here,” she ended, “I shall use my limited abilities, under direction, as best I can.”

  O’Mara was looking at the ship ruler now. Chiang had taken its hand away from its eyes, but its pink face was a deeper color than she had ever seen before.

  “The Sommaradvan contact was widening nicely,” Chiang said, “but it was at a delicate stage. We didn’t | want to risk refusing what seemed to them to be such a small favor. And anyway, we were pretty sure that they were giving Cha Thrat a hard time and we — I—thought she would be happier here.”

  “So,” O’Mara said, still looking at the ship ruler, whose face was now an even deeper shade of pink, “we have not only a political appointee but an unwilling volunteer and possibly a misfit. And, out of a misplaced sense of gratitude, you tried to conceal the true situation from me. That’s great!”

  It turned to face Cha Thrat again and said, “I appreciate your truthfulness. This material will be useful in the preparation of your psych profile but it does not, in spite of what your misguided friend may think, preclude your acceptance by the hospital provided the other requirements are satisfied. Those you will learn during training, which will begin first thing in our morning.”

  The words were coming faster than before, as if O’Mara’s time for talking were limited, as it went on. “In the outer office you will be given an information package, maps, class schedules, general rules, and advice, all printed in the most widely used language on Sommar-adva. Some of our trainees will tell you that their first and most difficult test was finding their rooms.

  “Good luck, Cha Thrat.”

  As she was picking her way between the alien furniture toward the door, O’Mara was saying “I’m primarily interested in your postoperative emotional condition, Major Chiang. Have there been any waking fears, recurrent nightmares, unexplained episodes of tension, with or without accompanying perspiration, associated with the operation? Any feelings of drowning, strangulation, increasing and unreasoning fear of the dark? …”

  Truly, she thought, O’Mara was a great wizard.

  In the outer office, the Earth-human Braithwaite gave verbal as well as printed advice together with a white band to wear on one of her upper arms. It signified to all that she was a trainee, it said, laughing, and likely to become confused and lost. Should that happen she could ask any member of the hospital staff for directions. It, too, ended by wishing her well.

  Finding the way to her room was a nightmare worse, she was sure, than any that Chiang might be relating to O’Mara. She needed directions on two occasions, and each time she asked groups of the silver-furred Kelgians who seemed to be everywhere in the hospital, rather than any of the great, lumbering monsters or the squishy beings in chlorine envelopes who crowded past her. But on both occasions, in spite of the respectful manner of her request, the information was given in a most rude and abrupt fashion.

  Her immediate feeling was one of severe personal offense. But then she saw that the Kelgians were rude and short-tempered even to other members of their own species, and she decided that it might be better not to upbraid them for their extreme lack of politeness toward astranger.

  When she at last located her room, the door was wide open and the Earth-human Timmins was lying prone on the floor and holding a small metal box that was making quiet noises and winking its lights.

  “Just testing,” Timmins said. “I’ll be finished in a moment. Look around. The operating instructions for everything are on the table. If there is anything you don’t understand, use the communicator to call Staff Training, they’ll help you.” It rolled onto its back and got to its feet in a way that was physically impossible for a Som-maradvan, and added, “What do you think of the place?”

  “I’m — I’m surprised,” Cha Thrat said, feeling almostJMIWCS WHII fflshocked by its familiarity. “And delighted. It’s just likfl my quarters at home.”

  “We aim to please,” Timmins said. It raised one hand! in a gesture she did not understand, and was gone.

  For a long time she moved about the small room ex-j amining the furniture and equipment, not quite believing i what she saw and felt. She knew that photographs and i measurements had been taken of her quarters in the war- j rior-surgeon level at the Calgren House of Healing, but ’ she had not expected such close attention to detail in the reproduction of her favorite pictures, wall coverings, ’ lighting, and personal utilities. There were differences, too, some obvious and others subtle, to remind her that this place, despite appearances to the contrary, was not on her home world.

  The room itself was larger and the furniture more comfortable, but there were no joints visible in the construction. It was as if every item had been fabricated in one piece. All the doors and drawers and fastenings in the replicas worked perfectly, which the originals had never done, and the air smelled different — in fact, it did not smell at all.

  Gradually her initial feelings of pleasure and relief were being diluted by the realization that this was nothing more than a tiny, familiar bubble of normality inside a vast, alien, and terrifyingly complex structure. The fear and anxiety she was beginning to feel were greater than she had ever experienced on her incredibly distant home planet, and with them was a growing degree of loneliness so acute that it felt like an intense, physical hunger.

  But she was not liked or wanted on far Sommaradva, and here, at least, they had taken positive measures to welcome her, so much so that she had to remain in this terrible place if only to discharge the obligation. And she would try to learn as much as she could before the hospital rulers decided that she was unsuitable and sent her home.

  She should start learning now. Was the hunger real, she wondered, rather than imaginary? She had not been able to eat to repletion during the earlier visit to the dining hall because her mind had been on matters other than food. She began to plan the route there, and to the location of her first lecture in the morning, from her present position. But she did not feel like another trip along the hospital’s weirdly populated corridors just yet. She was very tired, and the room had a limited-menu food dispenser for trainee
s who did not wish to interrupt their studies by going to the dining hall. She referred to the list of foods suited to her metabolism and tapped for medium-to-large portions. When she was feeling comfortably distended, she tried to sleep.

  The room and the corridor outside were full of quiet, unidentifiable sounds, and she did not know enough to be able to ignore them. Sleep would not come and she was beginning to feel afraid again, and to wonder if her thoughts and feelings were of the kind to interest the wizard O’Mara, and that made her even more fearful for her future at Sector General. While still lying at rest, physically if not mentally, she used the ceiling projection facility of the communicator to see what was happening on the entertainment and training channels.

  According to the relevant information sheet, ten of the channels continuously screened some of the Galactic Federation’s most popular entertainment, current interest, and drama programs with a translator output, if required. But she discovered that while she could understand the words that the different physiological types were saying to and about each other, the accompanying actions were in turn horrifying, mystifying, ridicu-lous, or downright obscene to Sommaradvan eyes. Sh switched to the training channels.

  There she had a choice of watching displays of cur-rently meaningless figures and tabulations on the temper atures, blood pressures, and pulse rates of about fif different life-forms, or surgical operations in progress that were visually disquieting and not calculated to luJ anyone to sleep.

  In desperation, Cha Thrat tried the sound-only chan-nels. But the music she found, even when the volums was reduced to bare audibility, sounded as if it were coming from a piece of malfunctioning heavy machinery So it was a great surprise when the room alarm began reminding her, monotonously and with steadily increas-ing volume, that it was time to awaken if she required breakfast before her first lecture.

  CHAPTER 4

  The lecturer was a Nidian who had been introduced as Senior Physician Cresk-Sar. While it was speaking, it prowled up and down the line of trainees like some small, hairy, carnivorous beast, which meant that every few minutes it passed Cha Thrat so closely that she wanted to either fold her limbs in defensive mode or run away.

  “To minimize verbal confusion during meetings with other-species entities,” it was saying, “and to avoid in-advertently giving offense, it is assumed that all members of the medical and support staff who do not belong to your own particular species are sexless. Whether you are addressing them directly or discussing them in their absence, you will always think of them as an ’it’. The only exception to this rule is when an other-species patient is being treated for a condition directly related to its sex, in which case the doctor must know whether it is male or female, or one of the multisexed species, if the proper treatment is to be carried out.

  “I am a male Nidian DBDG,” Cresk-Sar went on, “but do not think of me as ‘he’ or ‘him’. Think of me as ‘it’.”

  As the disgusting, hairy shape moved to within a few paces of her before turning away again, Cha Thrat thought that she would have no difficulty in thinking of this Senior Physician as “it.”

  With the intention of finding someone less repulsive to look at, she turned her eyes toward the trainee closest to her — one of the three silver-furred Kelgians attending the lecture. It was strange, she thought, how the Ni-dian’s fur made her cringe inwardly while the equally alien covering of the Kelgian relaxed and calmed her like a work of great art. The fur was in constant motion, with long, slow ripples moving from the creature’s conical head right down to its tail, with occasional cross-eddies and wavelets appearing, as if the incredibly fine pelt was a liquid stirred by an unfelt wind. At first she thought the movements were random, but a pattern of ripples and eddies seemed to be developing the more closely shewatched.

  “What are you staring at?” the Kelgian said suddenly, its translated words overlaid by the moaning and hissing sounds of its native speech. “Do I have a bald patch, or something?”

  “I’m sorry, I had not meant to give offense,” Cha Thrat said. “Your fur is beautiful and I couldn’t help admiring it the way it moves—”

  “Pay attention, you two!” the Senior Physician saidj sharply. It moved closer, looked up at each of them in turn, then went prowling down the line again.

  “Cresk-Sar’s fur,” the Kelgian said softly, “is a sight. It makes me think that invisible and no doubt imaginary parasites are about to change their abode. It gives me a terrible psychosomatic itch.”

  This time Cresk-Sar gave them another long look, made an irritated, snuffling sound that did aot translate, and continued with what it was saying.

  “… There is a great deal of illogical behavior associated with sexual differences,” it went on, “and I must emphasize once again, unless the sex of a particular entity has a direct bearing on its course of treatment, the subject must be ignored if not deliberately avoided. Some of you may consider that such knowledge of another species would be helpful, conversationally useful during off-duty meetings or, as often happens in this place, when a particularly interesting piece of gossip is circulating. But believe me, in this area, ignorance is a virtue.”

  “Surely,” said a Melfan trainee halfway down the line, “there are interspecies social occasions, shared meals or lectures, when it would be a gross act of bad manners to ignore another intelligent and socially aware person’s gender. I think that—”

  “And I think,” Cresk-Sar said with a bark, or laugh, “that you are what our Earth-human friends call a gentleman. You haven’t been listening. Ignore the difference. Consider everyone who is not of your own species as neuter. In any case, you would have to observe some of our other-species people very closely to tell the differ-ence, and that in itself could cause serious embarrassment. In the case of Hudlar life-mates, who alternate between male and female mode, the behavior patterns are quite complex.”

  “What would happen,” the Keigian beside her said, “if they should go, completely or partly, out of synchronization?”

  From the line of trainees there were a number of different sounds, none of which registered on her translator. The Senior Physician was looking at the Kelgian, whose fur, for some reason, had begun to move in rapid, irregular ripples.

  “I shall treat that as a serious question,” Cresk-Sar said, “although I doubt that it was intended as such. Rather than answer it myself, I shall ask one of you to do so. Would the Hudlar trainee please step forward.” So that, Cha Thrat thought, is a Hudlar. It was a squat, heavy life-form with a hard, almost featureless dark-gray skin, discolored by patches of the dried paint she had seen it spraying on itself before they had entered the lecture theater, and she had decided then that it was extremely careless in its application of cosmetics. The body was supported on six heavy tentacles, each of which terminated in a cluster of flexible digits, curled inward so that the weight was borne on heavy knuckles and the fingers remained clear of the floor.

  There were no body openings that she could see, not even in the head, which contained eyes protected by hard, transparent shells and a semicircular membrane that vibrated to produce the creature’s words as it turned toward them.

  “It is very simple, respected colleagues,” the Hudlar said. “While I am presently male, Hudlars are all sexually neutral until puberty, after which the direction taken is dependent on social-environmental influences,sometimes quite subtle influences that do not involva body contact. A picture of an attractive male-mode Hudi lar might impel one from neuter toward female mode, or the other way around. A conscious choice can be made if the career one intends to follow favors a particular sex. Unless one is mated, the postpuberty sex choice is fixed for the remainder of one’s life.

  “When two adults become life-mates,” the Hudlar went on, “that is, when they join for the purpose of becoming parents and not simply for temporary pleasure, the sex changes are initiated shortly after conception. By the time the child is born the male has become much less aggressive, more attentive and em
otionally oriented ward its mate, while its mate is beginning to lose the female characteristics. Following parturition, the process continues, with the father-that-was taking responsibility for the child while progressing to full female mode, and the mother develops all the male characteristics that will enable it to be a father-to-be.

  “There is, of course, a time during which both life-mates are emotional neuters,” the Hudlar added, “but this is a period of the pregnancy when physical coupling is contraindicated.”

  “Thank you,” the Senior Physician said, but held up a small, hairy hand to indicate that the Hudlar should remain where it was. “Any further comments, questions?”

  It was looking at the Kelgian beside her, the one who had asked the original question, but Cha Thrat spoke on impulse.

  “It seems to me that the Hudlars are fortunate,” she said, “in that they are not troubled by the situation of the members of one sex considering themselves innately superior to the other, as is the case on Sommaradva …

  “And on too many other worlds of the Federation,” the Kelgian interjected, the fur rising into tufts behind itshead.

  “… I thank the Hudlar for its explanation,” Cha Thratwent on, “but I was surprised to find that it is presently a male. My first thought, based on observation of what I mistakenly assumed to be cosmetic paint on its body, was that it was female.”

  The Hudlar’s speaking membrane began to vibrate, but Cresk-Sar held its hand up for silence and said, “What are your second thoughts?”

  Confused, she stared at the hairy little creature, wondering what she was expected to say.

  “Come, come,” Cresk-Sar barked. “Tell us what other thoughts, observations, assumptions, mistaken or otherwise, have been going through your Sommaradvan mind regarding this life-form. Think and speak clearly.”