Alien Emergencies - James White [290]
His first thought was to refuse its thanks and instead apologize to it. He had the taped insight which made him in effect another Hudlar, and he wanted to tell how truly sorry he was for subjecting it to the trauma of this highly complex and professionally demanding operation which would give it so many more years of mental suffering. But he knew that his mind was oversensitized to the Hudlar material right now, and a Doctor should not speak to his patient in such a maudlin and unprofessional fashion.
Instead he said reassuringly, “Your species is very adaptable regarding working environments, and much in demand throughout the Federation on planetary and space projects, and your recovery will be complete. With certain personal restrictions, which will require a high order of mental discipline to negate, you can look forward to leading a very active and useful life.”
He did not say a happy life, because he was not that big a liar.
“Thank you, Doctor,” the patient said again.
“Please excuse me,” Conway said, and escaped.
But not for long. The rapid, irregular tapping of six hard-tipped Melfan legs signaled the approach of Senior Physician Edanelt.
“That was well done, Conway,” the Senior said. “A nice blend of clinical fact, sympathy, and encouragement, although you did spend a lot more time with the patient than is usual for a Diagnostician. However, there was a message for you from Thornnastor requesting a meeting as soon and wherever is convenient for you. It did not specify other than saying that it concerned your Protector and that it was urgent.”
“If the time and place are of my choice,” Conway said slowly, his mind still on the future troubles of FROB-Forty-three, “it can’t be too urgent. What about Three and Ten?”
“They, too, are urgently in need of reassurance,” Edanelt replied. “Three was the responsibility of Yarrence, who did some delicate and quite brilliant work relieving its depressed cranial fracture and underlying repairs, but no replacement surgery was necessary. Visually, Three will not be an aesthetically pleasing entity to its fellows, but unlike Ten and Forty-three, neither will it be a permanent exile from its home world and people.
“Ten will have the same long-term problems as Forty-three,” the Melfan went on. “The procedures for the multiple limb and absorption organ replacements went well, and the prognosis is for a full recovery under the usual strict regimen of suppressants. Since you are short of time, perhaps I should talk to one of them while you speak to the other?
“I am a Senior Physician, Conway,” it added, “and not a fledgling Diagnostician like you. But I would not want to keep Thornnastor waiting too long.”
“Thank you,” Conway said, “and I’ll talk to Ten.”
Unlike Forty-three, Ten was in male mode and would not be susceptible to emotional manipulation and arguments as the previous patient. He hoped that Thornnastor was being its usual impatient self and not really in a hurry to see him…
When it was over he felt in much worse mental shape than the patient, who seemed to have taken the first steps toward the acceptance of its lot without too much emotional distress, probably because it did not have a life-mate. Conway desperately wanted to clear his mind of all things pertaining to the Hudlar life-form, but it was proving extremely difficult to do so.
“Surely it is theoretically possible for two suppressees, living away from their home planet, to meet without endangering each other?” he asked Edanelt when they were out of earshot of the Hudlar patients. “If both had their immune systems suppressed, they should be free of own-species pathogens which would otherwise infect each other. It might be possible to arrange periodic meetings of such exiles which would benefit—”
“A nice, softhearted, and, may I say, softheaded idea,” Edanelt broke in. “But if one of these suppressees had an inherited immunity to a pathogen not directly involved with the rejection process, to which the other members of this group had no immunity, they would be in serious