White, James – Sector General 05 – Sector General

twitching feebly and its domelike brain casing, multiple eye-trunk, and thick,

leathery hide free of any visible signs of damage. “Could it be that it is

troubled only by the toxic gas?”

“You’re probably right,” MacEwan said. He and Grawlya-Ki pressed Nidian masks

over the Tralthan’s breathing orifices. Several minutes passed with no sign of

improvement in its condition. MacEwan’s eyes were stinging even though he, like

the Orligian, was using one hand to press the mask tightly against his face.

Angrily, he said, “Have you any other ideas?”

The anger was directed at his own helplessness, and he felt like kicking himself

for taking it out on the Hudlar. He could not tell the two beings apart, only

that one tended to sound worried, long-winded, and overly polite, while its

lifemate was more forthright. This one, luckily, was the former.

“It is possible that its injuries are to the flank lying against the floor and

are presently invisible to us,” the Hudlar said ponderously. “Or that the being,

which is a squat, heavy-gravity creature with certain physical similarities to

myself, is seriously inconvenienced by being laid on its side. While we Hudlars

can work comfortably in weightless conditions, gravity if pres­ent must act

downward or within a very short time serious and disabling organ displacement

occurs. There is also the fact that all Tralthan ships use an artificial gravity

system with multiple failsafe backup, which is just one of the reasons for the

de­pendability and popularity of Tralthan-built ships. This suggests

that a lateral gravity pull must be avoided by them at all costs, and that this

particular being is—”

“Stop talking about it,” the second Hudlar said, joining them, “and lift the

thing.”

The Hudlar extended its forward pair of tentacles and, brac­ing itself with the

other four in front of the Tralthan’s weakly moving feet, slid them over the

creature’s back and insinuated them between the floor and its other flank.

MacEwan watched as the tentacles tightened, took the strain, and began to

quiver. But the body did not move, and the other Hudlar positioned itself to

assist.

MacEwan was surprised, and worried. He had seen those tentacles, which served

both as ambulatory and manipulatory appendages, lifting beams, major structural

members, and large masses of wreckage seemingly without effort. They were

beau­tifully evolved limbs, immensely strong and with thick, hard­ened pads

forming a knuckle on which the being walked while the remainder of the

tentacle—the thinner, more flexible half tipped with a cluster of specialized

digits—was carried curled inward against its underside. The Tralthan they were

trying to move was roughly the mass of an Earthly baby elephant, and the

combined efforts of both Hudlars were shifting it only slightly.

“Wait,” MacEwan said urgently. “Both of you have lifted much heavier weights. I

think the Tralthan is caught, perhaps impaled on a structural projection, and

you cannot move it because—”

“We cannot move it,” the polite Hudlar said, “because we have been expending

large amounts of energy after insufficient sustenance. Absorption of our last

meal, which was overdue in any case, was halted by the accident after the

process was scarcely begun. We are as weak as infants, as are you and your

Orligian friend. But if you would both go to the other side of the being and

push, your strength, puny as it is, might make a difference.”

Perhaps it wasn’t the polite one, MacEwan thought as he and Grawlya-Ki did as

suggested. He wanted to apologize to we Hudlars for assuming that they were

simply organic pieces of heavy rescue machinery whose capabilities he had taken

for . But he and Grawlya-Ki had their shoulders under the

side of the Tralthan’s cranial dome, their puny efforts were making a

difference, and, unlike Hudlars, MacEwan needed breath with which to speak.

The Tralthan came upright, rocked unsteadily on its six, widely spaced feet,

then was guided toward the other casualties by the Orligian. Sweat as well as

chlorine was in MacEwan’s eyes so he did not know which Hudlar spoke, but

presumably it had been the one engaged in lifting injured Illensans into the

damaged transporter.

“I am having difficulty with a chlorine breather, Earthper-son,” it said. “The

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