White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

the wreck and scatter it in front of the thorn clumps — that might make them

lose interest in the wreck for a while.”

“I hope so,” Fletcher said.

The lander took off in a small, self-created sandstorm as Conway was dragging

the first containers of food toward the edge of the nearest thorn patch, which

was about four hundred meters astern of the wreck. They had agreed that Fletcher

would move the containers from the storage deck to the ground outside the hatch,

and Conway would scatter them along the front of the advancing thorns. He had

wanted to use,the litter with its greater capacity and gravity neutralizers, but

Naydrad had stated in its forthright fashion that the Doctor was unused to

con­trolling the vehicle and if the gravity settings were wrong or a part of the

load fell off, the litter would disappear skyward or blow weightlessly away.

Conway was forced to do it the hard way.

“Make this the last one, Doctor,” the Captain said as he was coming in from his

eighth round trip. “The wind is rising.”

The shadow of the wreck had lengthened steadily as he worked and the sky had

deepened in color. The suit’s sensors showed a marked drop in the outside

temperature, but Conway had been generating so much body heat himself that he

had not noticed it. He threw the containers as far in front and to each side of

him as he could, opening some of them to make sure that the thorns would know

that the unopened containers also held food, although they could probably sense

that for themselves. The thorn clumps covered the sand across a wide front like

black, irregular crosshatching, seemingly motionless. But every time he looked

away for a few minutes then back again, they were closer.

Suddenly the thorn patches and everything else disappeared behind a dark-brown

curtain of sand and a gust of wind punched him in the back, knocking him to his

knees. He tried to get to his feet but an eddy blew him onto his side. Half

crawling and half running, he headed back toward the wreck, although by then he

had no clear idea where it was. The storm-driven sand was hissing so loudly

against his helmet that he could barely hear Dodds’ voice.

“My sensors show you heading toward the thorns, Doctor,” the astrogator said

urgently. “Turn right about one hundred ten degrees and the wreck is about three

hundred meters distant.”

Fletcher was outside the cargo hatch with his suit spotlight turned to maximum

power to guide him in. The Captain pushed him through the hatch and closed it

behind him. The crash had warped the hatch so that sand continued to blow in

around the edges, except near the bottom where it came through in a steady

trickle.

“Within a few minutes the outside of the hatch will be sealed

by a sand drift,” Fletcher said without looking at Conway. “It will be difficult

for our cannibal to get in. Dodds will spot it on the sensors anyway and I’ll

have time to take the necessary steps.”

Conway shook his head and said, “We’ve nothing to worry about except the wind,

sand, and thorn patches.” Silently he added, If that wasn’t enough.

The Captain grunted and began climbing through the hatch leading to the

corridor, and Conway crawled after him. But it was not until Fletcher slowed to

pass the leaking hydraulic reservoir, which was steaming very faintly now, that

Conway spoke.

“Is there anything else bothering you, Captain?”

Fletcher stopped and for the first time in over an hour looked directly at the

Doctor. He said, “Yes, there is. That creature in the Control Deck bothers me.

Even in the hospital, what can you do for it, a multiple amputee? It will be

completely helpless, little more than a live specimen for study. I’m wondering

if it would not be better just to let the cold take it and—”

“We can do a great deal for it, Captain,” Conway broke in, “if we can get it

safely through the night. Weren’t you listening to Murchison, Prilicla, and me

discussing the case?”

“Yes and no, Doctor,” Fletcher said, moving forward again. “Some of it was quite