White, James – Sector General 12 – Double Contact

For a few moments he eavesdropped on the emotional ra­diation filtering through to him from the casualty and control decks. They all knew that he couldn’t help doing that because it was impossible to switch off his empathic faculty, so their emo­tional radiation was subdued, well-controlled, and, at this range, restful. They knew better than to radiate unpleasant feelings when their boss was trying to sleep.

CHAPTER 3

The briefing tape provided by Administrator Braithwaite had been played but not yet discussed, and their feelings of cu­riosity, caution, and growing impatience filled the casualty deck around him like a thick, emotional fog.

Captain Fletcher was sitting on a padded Kelgian treatment frame, flanked by Lieutenants Dodds and Chen, the communi­cations and engineering officers respectively, while the astrogator and current watch-keeping officer, Lieutenant Haslam, viewed the proceedings through the control deck’s vision link. Pathol­ogist Murchison occupied the swivel seat of the diagnostic con­sole with its back turned to the screen; Charge Nurse Naydrad had curled itself into a furry question mark on the nearest bed; and the polymorphic Dr. Danalta sat in the middle of the deck like a small green haystack from which it had extruded an ear and a single stalked eye. In order to avoid even the slightest risk of injury from sudden, unthinking movements of the others’ limbs, Prilicla maintained a stable hover close to the ceiling while they all stared at the wall screen below him.

“As we have just seen,” Prilicla said, “we will be entering what may be a unique situation for us, and we will have to be very careful…”

We’re always careful,” Naydrad broke in, its mobile fur rippling into waves of impatience and anxiety. “How careful is Very’?”

Kelgians always said exactly what they felt—because their mobile fur made their feelings plain, at least to another member of their species—or they said nothing at all. He was aware of all of Naydrad’s feelings, spoken and otherwise, and ignored the question because he intended to answer it anyway.

He went on. “The information available is sparse and spec­ulative. We will be faced with the possible recovery of survivors from two distressed ships. One should be a normal, straightfor­ward rescue and should pose no problems because it is the Corps’ survey vessel Terragar, whose crew are Earth-human DBDGs. The second vessel has a crew whose physiological classification is as yet unknown. With survivors of two different species in­volved, one of which is …”

“We assess the position at the disaster site and rescue the casualties, of whichever species, who are in the most urgent need of attention first,” Pathologist Murchison broke in quietly, its mind radiating the emotions of expectation, curiosity, and con­fidence characteristic of one who is accustomed to meeting pro­fessional challenges. “I don’t see the problem, sir. This is what we do.”

“… is possibly responsible for causing the casualties on the first ship,” Prilicla went on firmly. “Or perhaps another, undistressed vessel or vessels in the area have caused both sets of casualties. We must prepare and organize now for that even­tuality, beginning with a clarification of the chain of com­mand.”

For several minutes nobody spoke. The level of their emo­tional radiation increased in strength and complexity, but not to a stage where it was affecting him physically. The three Monitor Corps officers were reacting with controlled restraint in the face of possible danger, the feelings characteristic of the military mind. Murchison’s radiation was complex and negative, as was Nay­drad’s, but neither of them were feeling strongly enough to vocalize their objections. Unlike the others who were feeling minor non-specific anxiety and uncertainty, Danalta projected the calm self-assurance of a shape-changer who felt itself to be impervious to all forms of physical injury.

“Normally,” Prilicla went on, “friend Fletcher here is in operational command of Rhabwar until it arrives at a disaster site, after which it is the senior medical officer, myself, who has the rank. But on this mission it may well be that, initially at least, military tactics will be of more benefit to us than medical exper­tise. I feel your agreement, friend Fletcher, and also that you are wanting to speak. Please do so.”

The captain nodded. “Have you and the other medics con­sidered the full implications of what you are saying? I realize that at present all this is pure speculation, but in the event of our being faced with a situation of armed conflict, difficult—and to all you medics, disagreeable decisions will have to be taken, and orders issued by myself. If I am called on to make those decisions, my orders will have to be obeyed without question or argument, no matter how objectionable they will seem. This must be fully understood and accepted by everyone right now—before, and not during or after, the event. Is it?”

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