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White, James – Sector General 10 – Final Diagnosis

White, James – Final Diagnosis

Final Diagnosis

by James White

Contents

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 1

The ship’s Orligian medical officer did not speak as it escorted him into and along the boarding tube to the hospital entry point, and that was the way Hewlitt wanted it. He did not like extraterrestrials and, on the few occasions when it was necessary, he preferred to discuss his business with them on a long-range communicator that was not fitted with a viewscreen. He did not like this one because the brownish-grey spikes of fur projecting through the gaps in its body covering twitched from time to time, making him itch at the thought of the parasites that might be infesting the creature. He felt a great relief when they left the narrow tube and entered the reception area beyond, because he was able to move farther away from the hairy, unprepossessing entity.

Another extraterrestrial of a type he had never seen before was standing beside an antigravity litter and obviously awaiting their arrival. This one was very large, heavily built, and supported by six thick tentacles, one of which was encircled by a band bearing what was presumably the insignia of rank or identity of the wearer. It wore no other body covering and he was relieved to see that it was hairless, although its personal hygiene was suspect since there were several patches of what looked like dry, flaking paint on the smooth skin of its flanks. He could see two lidless, recessed eyes covered by a hard, transparent material, but no other features apart from a fleshy membrane growing like a cock’s comb from the top of its head, and whose purpose was revealed as an organ of speech when the creature moved closer and vibrated it at him. “I am awaiting the arrival of a DBDG patient,” it said. “You are plainly an Earth-human of the DBDG physiological classification, but you do not appear to be traumatized or displaying any lesser form of distress. Perhaps I have made a mistake and you are not— “No mistake, Nurse,” said the Orligian, breaking in. “I am

Surgeon-Lieutenant Turragh-Mar, of the Monitor Corps supply vessel Treevendar, which was requested to convey this patient from its home world to Sector General. But now I must return to my ship without delay. This is Patient Hewlitt, and these are its case notes.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said the nurse, accepting the tape and slipping it into a recess on the litter’s control panel. “Is there any more recent clinical information that the physician-in-charge should know about?”

Turragh-Mar hesitated, then said, “There has been no change in the patient’s clinical condition since it was transferred from the planetary hospital to Treevendar six days ago. It remained as you see it now, apparently in good health. During that time I formed the opinion that, in spite of its long and complicated case history, there is a psychological component to the patient’s problem.”

“I understand, Doctor,” said the nurse. “But Patient Hewlitt can be assured that, however complicated its problem may turn out to be, we will do our best to solve it.”

Turragh-Mar gave a short bark that came through its translator only as a short bark. It added, “I wish you luck.”

“Patient Hewlitt,” said the nurse as the Orligian disappeared into the boarding tube, “please climb onto the litter and make yourself comfortable. I am taking you to Ward Seven on the twentyninth level, where you will—”

“I am not climbing into anything!” said Hewlitt, anger and uncertainty and an instinctive dislike of this monstrous creature making his voice louder than he had intended. “There is nothing wrong with me right now, especially with my legs. I shall walk.”

“Please believe me, sir,” said the nurse, “you will feel much more comfortable in the litter.

“I would be much more comfortable,” he replied, “if you would not talk about me as if I was a, a thing. On the way here that hairy Orligian apology for a doctor did it when speaking to other ship’s officers, and within seconds of my arrival you were doing it, too. I am a human being, a ‘he’ or a ‘him,’ not an ‘it.’ You will kindly remember that in future, Nurse.”

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