Alien Emergencies - James White [143]
“I won’t ask who,” O’Mara said dryly, and smiled as Conway’s embarrassment bounced off the EGCL and hit them.
“—because if ever there was case demanding isolation,” Conway ended, “this is it.”
The Chief Psychologist nodded. “What I had been about to say was that we may have miscalculated. Certainly we could never treat EGCLs in hospital where the patients surrounding them were in pain, even slight pain. But the situation here in the ship isn’t too bad. I can feel pains in the equivalent sites to where the EGCL is hurting, but nothing I can’t handle. And the rest of you are emoting concern for the patient, and this is not unpleasant even when magnified. It seems that if you don’t think badly toward the patient, it can’t bounce anything too unpleasant back at you. It’s surprising. I feel just the way I always do, except more so.”
“But it is regaining consciousness,” Conway protested. “There should be an intensification of—”
“There isn’t,” O’Mara cut in. “That is very obvious, Conway. Could the reason be because the patient is regaining consciousness? Think about it. Yes, Doctor, we can all feel you feeling ‘Eureka!’”
“Of course!” Conway said, and paused because his pleasure and excitement at seeing the answer, magnified by the EGCL, was causing Prilicla’s wings to go into the series of slow, rippling undulations which indicated intense pleasure in a Cinrusskin. It also counteracted the aches which he and everyone else were feeling from the patient. He thought, What a weird experience the cultural contact specialists were going to have with this species.
Aloud he said, “The process of reflecting and magnifying the feelings, hostile or otherwise, of the people around them is a defense mechanism which would, naturally, be at its most effective when the being is helpless, vulnerable, or unconscious. With a return to consciousness the effect seems to diminish but the empathic reflections are still strong. The result is that everyone around them will have an empathic faculty not unlike Prilicla’s, and yet the EGCLs are deaf to each other’s emotional radiation because they are transmitters only.
“Being like Prilicla,” he went on, looking across at the empath, “is something of a mixed blessing. But the EGCL would be a nice person to have around if we were having a good time—”
“Control here,” the voice of the Captain broke in. “I have some information on your patient’s species. Federation Archives have signaled the hospital to the effect that this race—their name for themselves is the Duwetz—was contacted briefly by an exploring Hudlar ship before the formation of the Galactic Federation. Enough information was obtained for the basic Duwetz language to be programmed into the present-day translation computers, but contact was severed because of serious psychological problems among the crew. We are advised to proceed with caution.”
“The patient,” Prilicla said suddenly, “is awake.”
Conway moved closer to the EGCL and tried to think positive, reassuring thoughts toward it. He noted with relief that the biosensors and associated monitors were indicating a weak but stable condition; that the damaged lung was again working satisfactorily and the bandages immobilizing the two rejoined appendages were firmly in position. The extensive suturing on the muscular apron and ambulatory pad at the base were well up to Thornnastor and Edanelt’s high standards, as were the deftly inserted staples which gleamed in neat rows where the carapace fractures had been. Obviously the being was in considerable discomfort in spite of the painkilling medication Thornnastor had synthesized for its particular metabolism. But pain was not the predominant feeling it was transmitting, and fear and hostility were entirely absent.
Two of its three remaining eyes swiveled to regard them while the other one was directed toward the viewport where Sector Twelve General Hospital, now almost eight kilometers distant, blazed like some vast, surrealistic piece of jewelry against the interstellar darkness. The feelings