White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

life-support equipment was sent from Sector General or from the ship’s home

planet to assist it. But there had been instances, far more than was generally

realized, when the dis­asters involved beings unknown to the Federation in

urgent need of help, help which the would-be rescuers were powerless to give.

Only when the rescue ship concerned had the capability of extending its

hyperspace envelope to include the distressed vessel, or the survivors could be

extricated safely and a suitable environment provided for them within the

Federation ship, could they be transported to Sector General for treatment. The

result was that many hitherto unknown life-forms, entities of high intelligence

and advanced technology, were lost except as interesting specimens for

dissection and study.

But an answer to this problem had been sought and, hope­fully, found.

“It was decided to build and equip a very special ambulance ship,” Conway

continued, “which would give priority to an­swering distress signals whose

positions did not agree with the flight plans filed by Federation vessels. The

First Contact peo­ple consider Rhabwar to be the near-perfect answer in that we

involve ourselves only with star^traveling species, beings who are expecting to

encounter new and to them alien life-forms and who, should they get into

trouble, would not be expected to display serious xenophobic reactions when we

try to help them. Another reason why the cultural contact people prefer meeting

star travelers to planetbound species is that they can never be sure whether

they are helping or hindering the newly discovered culture’s natural

development, giving them a tech­nological leg up or a crushing inferiority

complex.

“Anyway,” Conway said, smiling as he pointed at Nelson’s main display where the

newly arrived scoutships covered the screen, “now you know that it is Rhabwar

which has the rank and not any member of its crew.”

Nelson was looking only slightly less impressed, but before

he could speak the voices of two scoutship commanders re­porting to Rhabwar

sounded in quick succession. Both vessels had emerged from hyperspace close to

sections of alien space station and were already returning to the rendezvous

point with them in tow on long-focus tractor beams. In both cases the sections

gave sensor indications of life on board.

“The news isn’t all good, however,” Nelson said, pointing at his main display

where an enlarged picture of the section toward which they were heading filled

the screen. “That one has taken a beating and I don’t see how the occupant could

have survived.”

Conway nodded, and as the wrecked section turned slowly to present an end view,

Murchison added, “Obviously it didn’t.”

The, alien cylinder had been dented and punctured by mul­tiple collisions with

some of the structural members which had furnished the supporting framework of

the original space station and which was still drifting nearby. Amid the loose

tangle of debris was one of the section’s circular endplates, and from the open

end of .the compartment the body of its occupant protruded like an enormous,

dessicated caterpillar.

“Can you relay ihis picture to RhabwarT Conway asked.

“If I can get a word in edgewise,” Nelson replied, glancing at his speaker,

which was carrying a continuous, muted con­versation between, Fletcher and the

scoutships.

Murchison had been staring intently at the screen. She said suddenly, “It would

be a waste of time examining that cadaver out here. Can you put a tractor on it,

Captain, and take us back to RhabwarT

“We’ll need to bring back the wreck for study as well,” Conway said. “The

life-support and suspended animation sys­tems will give us important information

on the being’s phys­iology and—”

“Excuse me, Doctor,” Nelson said. For several seconds the voices from Rhabwar

and the scoutships had been silent and the Captain had seized the chance to send

a message of his own. He went on, “Tyrell here. Will you accept a visual relay,

Rhabwarl Doctor Conway thinks it’s important.”

“Go ahead, Tyrell” Fletcher’s voice said. “All other traffic wait out.”

There was a long silence while Rhabwar’s Captain studied

ii I C

the image of the slowly rotating wreck and the attached cadaver, long enough

,for it to make three complete revolutions, then Fletcher spoke. The tone and

words were so uncharacteristic that they scarcely recognized his voice. “I’m a