White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

Conway said, “Captain,”

Fletcher had been working on what seemed to be the inboard entrance to the hold,

reaching high above his head because he was standing on a wall with the floor

and ceiling on each side

of him. There was a loud click and a door swung downward and hung open. The

Captain made a self-satisfied sound and joined them.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Conway cleared his throat and said, “Captain, we have a theory about your

criminal. We think that the condition of distress which caused this ship to

release its beacon was hunger. All of the casualties we’ve examined so far have

had empty stomachs. It is possible, therefore, that your criminal is a crew

member who turned cannibal.”

Before Fletcher could reply, the voice of Prilicla sounded in their phones.

“Friend Conway,” the empath said timidly. “I have not yet examined all of the

casualties you sent up, but those I have examined display symptoms of

dehydration and tissue wastage indicative of hunger and thirst. But the

condition is not far enough advanced for death to be imminent. Your hypothetical

criminal must have attacked the other crew members before lack of food became a

serious problem. The being was hungry but not starving to death. Are you sure

that the creature is intelligent?”

“No,” Conway said. “But if Murchison and I have missed it while examining the

first of the casualties, and at that time we were more concerned with charting

the injuries than in the contents, if any, of their stomachs, the beastie could

be on Rhabwar now. So if you find a well-fed casualty, get Haslam and Chen to

restrain it, quickly. The Captain has a professional interest in it.”

“That I have,” Fletcher said grimly. He was about to go on when Haslam, who had

relieved Dodds as lander pilot, inter­rupted to say that he would be touching

down in six minutes and would need help loading the litter.

By packing the litter and strapping casualties, sometimes |wo to a couch in the

crew’s positions, Haslam was able to lift just over half of the remaining

survivors. There was no change ‘n the condition of the remaining casualties. The

shadow of the outcropping had lengthened, though the air was still warm; the sky

remained clear and there was no wind. Murchison said fhat she could usefully

spend the time until the lander returned ‘nvestigating, so far as she was able

with her portable equip-

ment, the large DCOJ cadaver they had left in the wreck. The medium-sized DCMH

survivor had gone up with Haslam.

It was obvious from the start that Fletcher found the dis­section distasteful,

and when Murchison told him that there was enough light for the work from the

helmet spots of Conway and herself, he left quickly and began climbing among the

containers fastened to the now-vertical deck beside them. After about fifteen

minutes he reported that his scanner showed the contents to be identical and,

judging by the amount of packing used, were almost certainly cargo rather than

ship’s stores. He added that he intended moving into the corridor outside the

hold to explore, look for other casualties, and gather evidence.

“Do you have to do it now, Captain?” Murchison said wor-v riedly, looking up.

Conway turned to regard Fletcher, too, but somehow his eyes did not rise above

the level of the other’s waist and the weapon attached to it.

“Do you know, Captain,” he said quietly, “you have been wearing a sidearm ever

since Rhabwar’s first mission, and I’ve barely noticed it? It was just a part of

your uniform, like the cap and insignia. Now it looks even more conspicuous than

your backpack.”

Fletcher looked uncomfortable as he said, “We’re taught that the psychological

effect of displaying a weapon is negli­gible among the law-abiding, but

increases in direct proportion to the guilt or harmful intentions of the

criminal or potential lawbreaker. However, the effect of my weapon was purely

psychological until Lieutenant Haslam brought down the charges for it a few

minutes ago.” Defensively he added, “There was no need to wear a loaded weapon

on an ambulance ship, and I’d no reason to believe that this would be a police