James White - The Galactic Gourmet

“When I have more time to spare,” it continued, “we will discuss the boring administrative details. Your salary, entitlement to paid leave and reduced transportation charges to your home world or chosen place of vacation, and supplies of free protective clothing and equipment. With or without the clothing you should wear a trainee’s arm- or leg-band so that—”

“Enough!” said Gurronsevas loudly, making no attempt to hide his feeling of outrage. “I require no salary. By the exercise of my unique talents I have already amassed more wealth than I could hope to spend during the rest of my life, no matter how profligate I should become. And I remind you again that I am a specialist renowned throughout the Federation and not a trainee, so I shall wear no trainee’s badge or—”

“As you wish,” said O’Mara quietly. “Is there anything else you wish to say to me? No? Then I expect you have other things to do less wasteful of your time and mine.”

The Chief Psychologist glanced pointedly at its wrist chronometer, then tapped briefly on its console. When its communicator lit up it said quietly, “Braithwaite, I will see Senior Physician Cresk-Sar now.”

Gurronsevas returned to the outer office seething with anger and making no attempt to place his feet quietly on the floor. The Nidian Senior waiting to see O’Mara took hasty evasive action while all the eyes of the department’s staff remained firmly on their work displays, even though small items of equipment resting on the console desks were vibrating noisily with every foot-fall. He stopped only when he reached the waiting Timmins.

“That is a most infuriating entity,” he said angrily. “As a Healer of the Mind it is incredibly lacking in sympathy or sensitivity, and, although I am not in that profession, I would say that it causes more psychological distress than it cures.”

Timmins was shaking its head slowly. It said, “You are quite wrong, sir. The Major is fond of saying that his job here is to shrink heads, not swell them. If the meaning of that particular Earth-human phrase is unclear to you I will explain it later. He is a very good psychologist, the best that any mentally distressed or traumatized entity could wish for, but he also likes to project the image of a thoroughly nasty and sarcastic person to those friends and colleagues about whom he has no cause for professional concern. If he were ever to show you sympathy and concern, and to act towards you as a patient rather than a colleague, you would be in real trouble.”

“I–I’m not sure that I understand,” said Gurronsevas.

“In fact, sir,” said the Lieutenant, smiling again, “you showed commendable restraint. The inner office is supposed to be soundproofed and we heard your voice raised only once. Many of the others try to slam the door on the way out.”

“Lieutenant,” said Gurronsevas, “it is a sliding door.”

“Even so,” said Timmins.

The compartment was much smaller than his former quarters in Retlin, but a beautiful and almost three-dimensional picture of Tralthan mountain scenery that covered one wall gave it a feeling of spaciousness, while the colors used to decorate the other walls and ceiling were identical to those he had left. A small but adequate body-immersion pit, terraced on one side for ease of entry, was recessed into the floor under the picture wall. There was a gravity control unit so that he could increase the compartment’s G-level for exercise or relaxation, since the standard gravity pull used inside the hospital was just over half Tralthan normal. A console with communicator and large view-screen was set into one corner, and the two containers (one large and one small) that had come with him on Tennochlan were already waiting inside the entrance.

“This is unexpected and very pleasant, Lieutenant Timmins,” said Gurronsevas. “My thanks for your efforts in making it so.”

Timmins smiled and made a dismissive gesture with one hand, then used it to point at the communications console.

“The operation is standard,” it said, “and there are a large number of medical training and information channels available, including one covering the detailed geography of the hospital which you will find helpful, with a recall provision for study purposes if required. To understand them you will need to use your multichannel translator pack; that’s it lying on top of your console. Unfortunately, the entertainment channels are, well …I know the Earth-human material is old and not very good, and the other-species staff have similar complaints. There is a rumor, never officially denied by O’Mara, that the Senior Physician in charge of training, Cresk-Sar, has deliberately arranged this to encourage more study during leisure periods.”

“I understand,” said Gurronsevas, “and sympathize.”

Timmins smiled again and said, “You have concealed storage spaces here and here, and recessed attachment points for any pictures or wall hangings you may have. They work like this. Would you like help unpacking and arranging your personal effects?”

“Since I have very few, that will not be necessary,” Gurronsevas replied, and pointed. “But as quickly as possible I would like that larger container to be stored under moderate refrigeration where I can have ready access to it. The contents will be required for my work.”

The expression on Timmins’ soft, yellow-pink features was probably one of curiosity, which Gurronsevas did not intend to satisfy as yet, then it said, “There is a cold-storage facility at the other end of your corridor. We don’t need to waste time going for a gravity sled; it isn’t very heavy.”

A few minutes later Gurronsevas’s precious container was in a cool, safe place, and Timmins went on, “Would you like to rest now, sir? Or tour part of the hospital, or maybe visit our dining hall for warm-blooded oxygen-breathers?”

“None of those,” Gurronsevas replied. “I will return to my quarters and familiarize myself with the hospital layout. Then I would like to find my way to the dining hall, alone. Sooner rather than later I must learn to — how does your species put it? — stand on my own six feet.”

“Understood, sir,” said Timmins. “You have my personal comm code. Call me if you need help.”

“My thanks, Lieutenant,” said Gurronsevas. “I will need help — but hopefully not too often.”

Timmins raised one hand and left without speaking.

Next day Gurronsevas was able to find his way to the correct level without having to ask anyone for directions, but this was because, during the final stages of the journey, he followed two Melfan student nurses who were discussing the necessity for hurrying their next meal to avoid being late for a lecture. He was sure, however, that he would be able to find the place again without passive guidance.

In the four principal languages spoken throughout the Federation — Tralthan, Orligian, Earth-human and Illensan — and as a spoken identification for translation by the other user species, the sign above the wide, doorless entrance announced Main Dining Hall, species classifications DBDG, DBLF, DBPK, DCNF, EGCL, ELNT, FGLI and FROB. Species GKNM & GLNO at own risk. Gurronsevas moved inside and stopped, paralyzed as much by the sight of so many other species together in one place as by the muted roar of their barking, grunting, growling, cheeping and whistling conversations.

Gurronsevas did not know how long he stood staring across that vast expanse of highly polished floor with its regimented islands of eating benches and seating grouped together by size to accommodate the incredible variety of beings using them. It was far beyond anything in his previous experience. He identified members of the Kelgian, Ian, Melfan, Nidian, Orligian, Dwerlan, Etlan, Earth-human, and his own Tralthan species, plus others that were completely new to him. Many of them were occupying tables and using eating utensils that had been designed for entirely different life-forms, seemingly for the purpose of conversing with other-species friends.