James White - Code Blue Emergency

It broke off as Cha Thrat stopped dead in the corridor. Angrily she said, “Have you been discussing with all these people my deeds and misdeeds, my competence or incompetence, perhaps my future prospects, without inviting me to be present?”

“Move, you’re causing a traffic problem,” Timmins said. “And there is no reason for anger. Since that business during the Hudlar demo there isn’t a single being in the hospital who has not talked about your deeds, misdeeds, competence, or lack thereof, and your highly questionable future prospects in the hospital. Having you present at ail those discussions was not possible. But if you want to know what was said about you in great and interminable detail — the serious discussions, that is, as opposed to mere hospital gossip — I believe O’Mara has added the recordings to your psych file and might play them back to you on request. Or again, he might not.

“Alternatively,” it went on when they were moving again, “you may wish me to give you a brief summary of these discussions, inaccurate in that the excess verbiage and the more impolite and colorful phraseology will be deleted.”

“That,” Cha Thrat said, “is what I wish.” “Very well,” it replied. “Let me begin by saying that the Monitor Corps personnel and all of the senior medical staff members involved are responsible for this situation. During the initial interview with O’Mara you mentioned that the lengthy delay in your decision to treat Chiang was that you did not want to lose a limb. O’Mara assumed, wrongly, that you were referring only to Chiang’s limb, and he thinks that in an other-species interview he should have been more alert to the exactmeaning of the words spoken, and that he is primarily responsible for your self-amputation.

“Conway feels responsible,” it went on, “because he ordered you to perform the Hudlar limb removal without knowing anything about your very strict code of professional ethics. Cresk-Sar thinks it should have questioned you more closely on the same subject. Both of them believe that you would make a fine other-species surgeon if you could be deconditioned and reeducated. And Hred-lichli blames itself for ignoring the special friendship that developed between you and AUGL-One Sixteen. And, of course, the Monitor Corps, which is originally responsible for the problem, suggested a solution that would give the minimum displeasure to everyone.”

“By transferring me to Maintenance,” she finished for it.

“That was never a serious suggestion,” the Earth-human said, “because we couldn’t believe that you would accept it. No, we wanted to send you home.”

A small part of her mind was moving her body forward and around the heavier or more senior staff members, while the rest of it felt angry and bitterly disappointed in the life-form beside her that she had begun to think of as a friend.

“Naturally,” Timmins went on, “we tried to take your feelings into account. You were interested in meeting and working with off-planet life-forms, so we would give you a cultural liaison position, as an advisor on Sommar-advan affairs, on our base there. Or on Descartes, our largest specialized other-species contact vessel, which will be orbiting your world until another new intelligent species is discovered somewhere. Your position would be one of considerable responsibility, and could not be influenced in any way by the people who dislike you on Sommaradva.

“Naturally, nothing could be guaranteed at this stage,” it continued. “But subject to your satisfactory performance with us you would be allowed to choose between a permanent position with the Corps’ Sommar-adva establishment as an interspecies cultural advisor or as a member of the contact team on Descartes. We tried to do what we thought was best for you, friend, and everyone else.”

“You did,” Cha Thrat said, feeling her anger and disappointment melting away. “Thank you.”

“We thought it was a reasonable compromise,” Tim-mins said. “But O’Mara said no. He insisted that you be given a maintenance job here in the hospital and have the Corps induction procedures attended to as quickly as possible.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know why,” it replied. “Who knows how a Chief Psychologist’s mind works?”

“Why,” she repeated, “must I join your Monitor Corps?”

“Oh, that,” Timmins said. “Purely for administrative convenience. The supply and maintenance of Sector General is our responsibility, and anyone who is not a patient or on the medical staff is automatically a member of the Monitor Corps. The personnel computer has to know your name, rank, and number so as to be able to pay your salary and so we can tell you what to do.

“Theoretically,” it added.

“I have never disobeyed the lawful order of a superior…” Cha Thrat began, when it held up its hand again.

“A Corps joke, don’t worry about it,” Timmins said. “The point I’m trying to make is that our Chief Psychologist bears the administrative rank of major, but it is difficult to define the limits of his authority in this place … because he orders full Colonels and Diagnosticiansaround, and not always politely. Your own rank of junior technician, Environmental Maintenance, Grade Two, which became effective as soon as we received O’Mara’s instructions, will not give you as much leeway.”

“Please,” she said urgently, “this is a serious matter. It is my understanding that the Monitor Corps is an organization of warriors. It has been many generations on Sommaradva since our warrior-level citizens fought together in battle. Peace and present-day technology offer danger enough. As a warrior-surgeon I am required to heal wounds, not inflict them.”

“Seriously,” the Earth-human said, “I think your information on the Corps came chiefly from the entertainment channels. Space battles and hand-to-hand combat are an extremely rare occurrence, and the library tapes will give you a much truer, and more boring, description of what we do and why we do it. Study the material. You’ll find that there will be no conflict of loyalty between your duties to the Corps, your home world, or your ethical standards.

“We’ve arrived,” it added briskly, pointing at the sign on the heavy door before them. “From here on we’ll need heavy radiation armor. Oh, you’ve another question?”

“It’s about my salary,"she said hesitantly.

Timmins laughed and said, “I do so hate these altruistic types who consider money unimportant. The pay at your present rank isn’t large. Personnel will be able to tell you the equivalent in Sommaradvan currency, but then there isn’t much to spend it on here. You can always save it and your leave allowance and travel. Perhaps visit your AUGL friend on Chalderescol sometime, or go to—”

“There would be enough money for an interstellar trip like that?” she broke in.

The Earth-human went into a paroxym of coughing, recovered, then said, “There would not be enough money to pay for an interstellar trip. However, because of the isolated position of Sector General, free Corps transport is available for physiologically suitable hospital personnel to travel to their home planets or, with a bit of fiddling, to the planet of your choice. The money could be spent there, enjoying yourself. Now will you please get into that armor?”

Cha Thrat did not move and the Earth-human watched her without speaking.

Finally she said, “I am being given special treatment, shown areas where I am not qualified to work and mechanisms that I can’t hope to use for a very long time. No doubt this is being done as an incentive, to show me what is possible for me to achieve in the future. I understand and appreciate the thinking behind this, but I would much prefer to stop sightseeing and do some simple, and useful, work.”