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White, James – Sector General 07 – Code Blue Emergency

“Don’t be afraid, friend Khone,” Prilicla broke in quickly. “Even a demented

Hudlar couldn’t break through the partition Cha Thrat put around you, and our

casualties will be unconscious anyway. Both of you will be quite safe.”

“Reassurance and gratitude are felt,” the Gogleskan said. With a visible effort

it added, more personally,”Thank you.”

“Friend Fletcher,” the empath said, returning its attention to the Captain, “can

you speculate further about this life-form, other than that it is large and

probably lacks digital dexterity?”

C.B.E.—-IO”I was about to,” the Captain said. “Analysis of internal atmosphere

leakage shows that—”

“Then the hull has been punctured!” Cha Thrat said excitedly. “From within or

without?”

“Technician,” said the ship ruler, reminding her of her position and her

insubordination with the single word. “For your information, it is extremely

difficult, expensive, and unnecessary to make a large, space-going structure

completely airtight. It is more practical to maintain the vessel at nominal

internal pressure and replace the negligible quantity of air that escapes. In

this case, had escaping air not been observed, it would almost certainly have

meant that the ship was open to space and airless.

“But there are no signs of collision or puncture damage,” Fletcher went on, “and

our sensor .data and analysis of the atmosphere leakage suggests that the crew

are warm-blooded oxygen-breathers with environmental temperature and pressure

requirements similar to our own.”

“Thank you, friend Fletcher,” Prilicla said, then joined the others who were

silently watching the repeater screen.

The image of the slowly rolling and spinning ship had grown until it was

brushing against the edges of the screen, when Murchison said, “The ship is

undamaged, uncontrolled, and, the sensors tell us, there is no abnormal escape

of radiation from its main reactor. That means their problem is likely to be

disease rather than traumatic injuries, a disabling or perhaps lethal illness

affecting the entire crew. Under illness I would include the inhalation of toxic

gas accidentally released from—”

“No, ma’am,” said Fletcher, who had maintained the communicator link with

Control. “Toxic contaminationof the air supply system on that scale would have

showed up in our leak analyses. There’s nothing wrong with theirair.”

“Or,” Murchison went on firmly, “the toxic materialmay have contaminated their

liquid or food supply, and been ingested. Either way, there may be no survivors

and nothing for us to do here except posthumously investigate, record the

physiology of a new life-form, and leave the rest to the Monitor Corps.”

The rest, Cha Thrat knew, would mean carrying out a detailed examination of the

vessel’s power, life-support, and navigation systems with the intention of

assessing the species’ level of technology. That might provide the information

that would enable them to reconstruct the elements of the ship’s course before

the disaster occurred and trace it back to its planet of origin. Simultaneously,

an even more careful evaluation of the nontechnical

environment—crew accommodation and furnishings, art or decorative objects,

personal effects, books, tapes, and self-entertainment systems—would be carried

out so that they would know what kind of people lived on the home planet when

they succeeded in finding it, as they ultimately would.

And eventually that world would be visited by the Cultural Contact specialists

of the Monitor Corps and, like her own Sommaradva, it would never be the same

again.

“If there are no survivors, ma’am,” Fletcher said regretfully, “then it isn’t a

job for Rhabwar. But we’ll only know when we go inside and check. Senior

Physician, do you wish to send any of your people with me? At this stage,

though, getting inside will be a mechanical rather than a medical problem.

Lieutenant Chen and Technician Cha Thrat, you will assist me with the entry—

Wait, something’s happening to the ship!”

Cha Thrat was very surprised that Fletcher wanted her to help with such

important work, badly worried in case she might not be able to perform to his

expectations, and more than a little frightened at the thought of what might

happen to them when they got inside the distressed ship. But the feelings were

temporarily submerged at the sight of what was happening on the screen.

The ship’s rate of spin and roll were increasing as they watched, and irregular

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