“I’ve got him,” he assured her.
Rael worked fast, with her full attention fixed on her small patient.
Dane watched in something akin to awe as her fingers seemed to fly of their own accord, at once gentle and sure in then- mission. Medicine was sometimes described as an art, and he realized he was witnessing a manifestation of that aspect of it here, a healing of body that encompassed mind and heart as well. Sinbad lay quiet in his arms, without fear, despite the excitement of the fight, his physical pain, the shock of his wounds, and the strangeness of the procedures being performed on him.
Dane glanced at Tau and caught his slow nod of approval. The Medic recognized excellence in his own profession, excellence that surpassed mere skill.
At last it was over. Cofort ran her hands several times along Sinbad’s back and sides, drawing a rumbling purr from him. She touched her lips to the top of his head, then looked up at the Cargo-apprentice. “You did well to stop the bleeding as quickly as you did. Otherwise, we might have had to transfuse him, never a pleasant experience for an animal.”
“He’ll be all right now?” Thorson inquired anxiously.
“He should be. Doctor Tau will want to look him over tomorrow …”
“It’s rarely beneficial to the patient to change good Medics mid-treatment,” Craig interjected. “I’m available for consultation, naturally, but Sinbad’s getting excellent care from his present physician.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” Tau’s comment was as much an assurance to the Queen’s crew, a public affirmation of her skill, as an acknowledgment of her right to treat as the first Medic on the scene.
Rael took the cat from Thorson. “What this poor little lad needs right now is a nice, comfortable, warm bed for the night. You won’t mind him sharing yours, will you, Dane?”
“No. Sinbad often bunks with me.” He liked the company and the feel of life-warmed fur beside him, but he sighed inwardly when the torn, as if on cue, jumped from her arms onto the bunk and settled himself, head on pillow, right in its center with almost mathematical precision.
He would not have the heart to shift his guest tonight, and if Sinbad did not move of his own accord, he would have to spend the remainder of the sleep period pretzeled around their wounded defender.
That probability was equally apparent to those of his shipmates who had pushed into his small cabin, although given the circumstances they refrained from ribbing him openly.
Rael’s eyes were still dancing with the laughter she had not yet screened when they met the Captain’s and found the same merriment mirrored there.
It lasted but an instant, then the cold solar steel returned to them. Jellico strode out into the corridor. “Let’s have a look at what’s left of his opponent.”
“A port rat,” Rip Shannon informed him, “and, space, the size of it! Sinbad got off lightly.”
The whole crew was gathered there, as was inevitable on a ship as small as the Solar Queen when an event of note occurred.
Jellico knelt beside the invader’s corpse, not touching it but studying it with an interest that overrode his innate Terran distaste for the creatures. “The beast can’t be blamed for fighting well for its life.”
Cofort smiled her approval, but her eyes were dark when they rested on the animal. “No,” she agreed. “There was no real contest, though, not once Sinbad got it cornered.”
“He was lucky all the same. It was big enough to have done even more damage than it inflicted.”
“Canuche grows them big,” she told him, “and they’re all over this town, what with the space- and seaports, the warehouse complexes serving them, and Happy City. We’ll have to put up mesh nets whenever the hatch is open if we’ve got a metal set, and even then, we’ll be fortunate not to ship a few. The Roving Star lifted with a pair the last time we were on-world. — Aggressive little beggars, too, and smart enough to duck most traps. It was the cats who finally took them for us, at the cost of some skin.”
No one received that piece of information with any sense of pleasure. If humankind had intentionally carried Terra’s felines into space, other, less desirable denizens of the mother planet had followed of their own accord. Few worlds indeed among those first settled, before the advent of the Federation’s stringent pest control regulations, had been fortunate enough to escape a visit from the tough, incredibly adaptable rat, and where that colonizing species came it generally stayed.
Oddly enough, rats had rarely wrought the ecological havoc that had marked their spread on Terra. Rather, they had concentrated their activities in and around the dwellings and other establishments of their ancient hosts and adversaries. Sometimes they grew larger than prototype, more often smaller under the pressures and differences of their new environments, but invariably they were a problem. Mostly, they were readily manageable; in a few unfortunate cases, where the rodents had either not been detected quickly enough or had myopically been ignored, they had developed into a scourge threatening the very existence of the colony itself.
“We’ll do what we can to keep them out, if only to save Sinbad another battering,” the Captain promised. “Now, dispose of this thing, Thorson, and let’s get back to our bunks for what’s left of the night. We’ll have plenty to do tomorrow besides sleeping the morning away.”
7
Rael wrinkled her nose in distaste as she stepped through the Queen’s hatch out onto the boarding ramp. Canuche of Halio was a highly industrialized world with a great deal of heavy manufacturing and chemical processing Every tame she came here, she found the stink of the atmosphere harder to take. Fortunately, it was only unpleasant and not actually detrimental to one’s health, however much it offended her sensibilities. Also fortunately, she had never been forced to remain very long on-world. Teague had always just stopped off to pick up a few supplies and lifted off again as quickly as he could.
“Where do we go first?” she inquired of her companions She and the three apprentices had been given the day to take care of personal business and also to get a feel for the planet. Their officers would be expecting a report from each of them on various topics relating to their respective specialties when they returned that evening.
“The supply depot,” Alt told her. “This is the first time since we took on that mail run that we’ve been near one, and we all have gear that needs replacing.”
Dane fervently seconded that statement in his own mind. When he had joined the Solar Queen, he had been fresh out of Training Pool, physically still somewhat a boy.
Since then, he had added muscle, gaining breadth of shoulder and chest. At this point, all his clothing was stretched tightly over his body and would not have gone on him at all had it not been for Frank Mura’s efforts with a needle.
He would be glad to be rid of the lot even though replacing everything would put a nasty hole in his already small store of credits.
A couple of hours later, the four left the Trade depot in good spirits. The men were wearing some of their purchases and carrying the rest. Only Rael was unburdened.
She had come on board well supplied, and she informed her companions that she was holding her spare credits for the market.
“Let’s drop off the loot,” Shannon suggested, “and see about some real, honest-to-goodness food. — You’re the expert, Rael, since none of the rest of us has been on Canuche before. Any suggestions? Someplace good in Happy City maybe?”
“Not there,” she declared flatly. “They’ve got marvelous restaurants in the northern section, right enough, but we wouldn’t want to try paying for a meal in one of those.
“This is a working person’s planet. Let’s just take a transport to any of the factory areas, preferably near the big plants down by the waterfront. We’ll find plenty of eateries around there, not fancy and the food’s plain, but it’s real, it’s good, there’s a lot of it, and it’s reasonably priced.”
“Lead on, good Doctor,” Ali told her with an exaggerated flourish of his hand. “We can always escort the children through Happy City later on and show them something of Canuche’s seamier side.”
She frowned. “That’s the locals’ playground. We’ve got no guarantee that any of its delights are safe. Trade has blacklisted the gambling altogether. Space hounds have been made the mark too often in there.”
“Do we look like total innocents?” Kamil demanded archly. “Besides, no one’s suggesting that we venture there at night. Apart from the big restaurants, most of the place’ll be shut down. It won’t hurt to have a quick look around as long as we stick together.” He said that last seriously. There were many areas in the galaxy where strangers were better advised not to wander alone, Canuche’s pleasure districts, with Happy City at the top of the list, among them. At least, rumor had it that an occasional tramp spacer had gone there for a night’s enjoyment and had not returned to ship or comrades again.