And that,” said O’Mara to Conway as he switched off, “should take care of that little crisis. With any luck we’ll have our visitor quieted down within a few hours. So your troubles are over, you can relax..
The psychologist broke off at the expression on Conway’s face, then he said softly, “There’s more?”
Conway nodded. Indicating his assistant he said, “Dr. Prilicla detected it, by empathy. You must understand that the runaway is in a very bad way psychologically-grief for its dying parent, the fright it received at Lock Six when everyone came charging at it, and now the mauling it has undergone in the FROB nursery. It is young, immature, and these experiences have thrown it back to the stage where its responses are purely animal and.., well…” Conway licked dry lips, ….. has anyone calculated how long it has been since that SRTT has eaten?”
The implications of the question were not lost on O’Mara either. He paled suddenly and snatched up the mike again. “Get me Skempton again, quickly! … Skempton? . . . Colonel, I am not trying to sound melodramatic but would you use the scrambler attached to your set, there is another complication. .
Turning away, Conway debated with himself whether to go over for a brief look at the dying SRTT or hurry back to his section. Back in the FROB nursery Prilicla had detected in the runaway’s mind strong hunger radiation as well as the expected fear and confusion, and it had been the communication of these findings which had caused first Conway, then O’Mara and Skempton to realize just what a deadly menace the visitor had become. The youths of any species are notoriously selfish, cruel and uncivilized, Conway knew, and driven by steadily increasing pangs of hunger this one would certainly turn cannibal. In its present confused mental state the young SRTT would probably not know that it had done so, but that fact would make no difference at all to the patients concerned.
If only the majority of Conway’s charges were not so small, defenseless and.., tasty.
On the other hand a look at the elder being might suggest some method of dealing with the younger-his curiosity regarding the SRTT terminal case having nothing to do with it, of course…
He was maneuvering for a closer look at the patient inside the tank and at the same time trying not to jostle the Earth-human doctor who was blocking his view, when the man turned irritably and asked, “Why the blazes don’t you climb up my back?… Oh, hello, Conway. Here to contribute another uninformed wild guess, I suppose?”
It was Mannon, the doctor who had at one time been Conway’s superior and was now a Senior Physician well on the way to achieving Diagnostician status. He had befriended Conway on his arrival at the hospital, Mannon had several times explained within Conway’s hearing, because he had a soft spot for stray dogs, cats and interns. Currently he was allowed to retain permanently in his brain just three Educator tapes- that of a Tralthan specialist in micro-surgery and two belonging to surgeons of the low-gravity LSVO and MSVK species-so that for long periods of each day his reactions were quite human. At the moment he was eyeing Prilicla, who was skittering about on the fringe of the crowd, with raised eyebrows.
Conway began to give details regarding the character and accomplishments of his new assistant, but was interrupted by Mannon saying loudly, “That’s enough, lad, you’re beginning to sound like an unsolicited testimonial. A light touch and the empathic faculty will be a big help in your current line of work. I grant that. But then you always did pick odd associates; levitating balls of goo, insects, dinosaurs, and such like-all pretty peculiar people, you must admit. Except for that nurse on the twenty-third level, now I admire your taste there-”
“Are they making any headway with this case, sir?” Conway said, determinedly shunting the conversation back onto the main track again. Mannon was the best in the world, but he had the painful habit sometimes of pulling a person’s leg until it threatened to come off at the hip.