White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

briefly into the corridor to check on the position of the thorns. “As is the

slightly larger DCMH. But the function of the big DCOJ is purely that of eating

and supplying predigested food to the host. There is evidence, however, that all

three of these life-forms have their own ingestion, digestion, and reproductive

systems, but one of them must figure in the transfer of sperm or ova between

immobile host creatures—”

She broke off as the Captain returned, his cutter in one hand and what looked

like a short, tangled piece of barbed wire in the other. He said, “The thorns

have grown out of the food storage deck and are halfway along the corridor. I

brought you a sample, ma’am.”

She took it from him carefully and Conway joined her for a closer look. It was

like a dark-brown, three-dimensional zig­zag with fine green thorns growing out

of every angle, except one which sprouted a long, tapering hollow tube like the

veg­etable equivalent of a hypodermic needle, and which was prob­ably a root.

She snipped off the thorns with surgical scissors and let them drop into her

analyzer.

“Why did we have to wear lightweight suits?” she said a few minutes later. “A

scratch from a thorn won’t kill you, but three or four would. What are you

doing, Captain?”

Fletcher was unclipping the signal flare from his backpack. He said, “You can

see from the charring on the stem that they burn. I removed that sample with the

cutting torch. But the flame isn’t self-sustaining. Maybe this will stunt its

growth for a while. Stay clear of the corridor entrance, both of you. These

things were not meant to be used in a confined space.”

He set the timer on the flare and threw it as hard as he could

into the corridor. The beam of light which poured out of the entrance was so

intense that it looked almost solid, and the hissing of the flare was louder

even than the sand lashing against the outer hull. The beam maintained its

intensity but began to flicker as smoke poured from the entrance. The thorns

were burning, Conway thought excitedly, and hoped that the py­rotechnics were

not worrying their patient too much. It seemed to be unusually agitated—

There was a sudden, crashing detonation. Pieces of the flare, burning thorn

branches, and parts of the dissected DCMH erupted from the corridor entrance,

and the cupola edge Conway was gripping seemed to jerk in his hands. He hung on

desperately as the vertical deck swung toward him, accompanied by the. screech

of tearing metal. There was a softer shock and the metallic noises ceased. The

emergency lighting had died but there was enough illumination from the

sputtering pieces of flare and their helmet lights to show that the patient had

fallen out of its cupola and was hanging directly above him, suspended only by

its webbing, sections of which were beginning to tear.

“The litter!” Conway shouted. “Help me!”

There was so much smoke from the flare that all he could see clearly were

Murchison’s and the Captain’s helmet lights. He let go his hold with one hand

and felt around for the litter, which had been left drifting weightlessly with

repulsors set to one negative G so as to make the vehicle easier to maneuver in

the confined space. He found it and a few seconds later felt other hands

steadying it. Above him the alien hung like a great organic tree trunk with its

stumps projecting between the web­bing, ready to fall and crush him and probably

kill itself on the charred but still poisonous thorns below them.

Suddenly it sagged closer. Conway flinched, but the rest of the webbing was

holding it. He felt for the control panel of the litter. “Get it under the

things!” he shouted. “Right under its center of gravity, that’s it.”

Gradually he increased the repulsion until the litter was pressing firmly

against the underside of the patient, and again until the being’s entire weight

was being supported and the webbing was simply holding it against any lateral

movement. He became aware of the voice of Dodds in his phones, asking over and