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White, James – Sector General 07 – Code Blue Emergency

words were reaching Khone as well as herself, Cha Thrat realized. The intense

and conflicting emotional radiation emanating from the other team members

grouped so closely around it was keeping the empath from detecting her own

sudden burst of surprise and fear.

“Cha Thrat,” it said, “there has been some argument, which has since been

resolved in your favor, regarding who should perform the operation. Friend

Rhone’s need is urgent, its condition has deteriorated to the stagewhere the

risk of moving it out tor surgery is able, and your only option is to—”

“No!” she said urgently. “Please stop talking?’ “Do not be distressed, Cha

Thrat,” the empath continued, mistaking the reason for the objection. “Your

professional competence is not in doubt, and Pathologist Murchison and myself

have studied Conway’s notes on the FORT life-form, as have you, and we will

guide you at every stage of the procedure and take complete responsibility

throughout.

“Immediate surgical intervention is required to relievethis condition,” it went

on. “As soon as the last sting iscapped, you will use a Number Eight scalpel to

enlarge’ the birth opening with an incision from the pelvis up tothe— What is

happening?”

There was no need to tell it what was happening because in the time taken to ask

the question it already knew the answer. Rhone, faced with the imminent prospect

of a major surgical attack, had reacted instinctively by emitting the call for

joining and was trying to sting to death the only strange, and therefore

threatening, being within reach. With its legs virtually paralyzed, Rhone was

twisting violently from side to side and using its digital clusters to pull

itself toward Cha Thrat.

The remaining uncapped sting, long, yellow, and with tiny drops of venom already

oozing from its point, was swaying and jerking closer. Frantically Cha Thrat

pushed backward with the forefeet and medial limbs, launching herself toward the

Gogieskan and grasping the base of the sting with three of her upper hands.

“Stop it!” she shouted above the noise of the call.

Forgetting to be impersonal, she went on. “Stop movingor you’ll injure yourself

and the young one. I’m a friend,I want to help you. Naydrad, cap it! Cap it

quickly!”

“Hold it still, then,” the Relgian snapped back,C.B.E.—9swinging the probe’s

manipulator arm above Rhone’s jerking head. “Hold it very still.”

But that was not easy to do. Her upper, neck-level arms and digits had been

evolved for more precise and delicate operations and lacked the heavy

musculature of the medial limbs, and using them meant that Rhone’s head and her

own were almost touching. She strained desperately to tighten her ridiculously

weak grip on the sting, sending waves of pain into her neck and upper thorax.

She knew that if those fingers slipped the sting would immediately be plunged

into the top of her head.

The medical team would probably get to her quickly enough to save her life, but

not those of Rhone and the fetus, which was their only reason for being here.

She was wondering how Murchison, the Diagnostician’s life-mate; and Prilicla,

its long-term friend; and Cha Thrat herself would face Con way with the news of

Rhone’s death when Naydrad shouted, “Got it!”

The last sting was covered. She could relax for a moment. But not Rhone, who was

still jerking and writhing on the floor and stabbing ineffectually at her with

all four of its capped stings. Close up, the sound of its distress call was like

a gale whistling and howling through a ruined building.

“At least the distorters are working,” Wainright said, and added warningly, “but

hurry it up, they won’t last much longer.”

She ignored the Earth-human and grasped tufts of the Gogleskan’s hair in her

upper and medial hands, trying vainly to hold it motionless. Pleadingly she

said, “Stop moving. You’re wasting what little strength you’ve got. You’ll die

and the baby will die. Please stop moving. I’m not an enemy, I’m yourfriendl”

The call for joining was still howling out with un-diminished volume, making her

wonder how such asmall creature could make so great a noise, but its physical

movements were becoming noticeably less violent. Was it a symptom of sheer

physical weakness, or was she getting through to the Gogleskan? Then she saw

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Categories: White, James
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