the medication that reduced her feelings of shock and outrage, and made the
suggestions of the wizard seem worthy of consideration rather than outright
rejection.
One of its suggestions had been that, when viewed nonsubjectively, the action
she had taken had been neither noble nor praiseworthy, but a little bit silly.
By the end of that visit she almost agreed with it, and suddenly she was allowed
visitors.
Tarsedth and the Hudlar trainee were the first callers. The Kelgian came
bustling forward to ask how she was feeling and to examine her scars, while the
FROB remained standing in silence just inside the entrance. ChaThrat wondered if
there was anything bothering it, forgetting for the moment that her medication
frequently caused her to vocalize her thoughts.
“Nothing,” said Tarsedth. “Just ignore the big softie. When I arrived it was
outside the door, don’t know for how long, afraid that the mere sight of another
Hudlar would give you some kind of emotional relapse. In spite of all that
muscle, Hudlars are sensitive souls. According to what O’Mara told Cresk-Sar,
you are unlikely to do anything sudden or melodramatic. You are neither mentally
unbalanced nor emotionally disturbed. Its exact words were that you were
normally crazy but not certifi-ably mad, which is the condition of quite a few
people who work in this place.”
It turned suddenly to regard the FROB, then went on. “Come closer! It is in bed,
with a limb and most of its body immobilized, it has been blasted into low orbit
with tranquilizers, and it isn’t likely to bite you!”
The Hudlar came forward and said shyly, “We all, everyone who was there, wish
you well. That includes Patient Eleven Thirty-two, who is pain-free now and
making good progress. And Charge Nurse Segroth whose good wishes were, ah, more
perfunctory. Will you recover the full use of the limb?”
“Don’t be stupid,” Tarsedth broke in. “With two Diagnosticians on the case it
doesn’t dare not make a complete recovery.” To Cha Thrat it went on. “But so
much has been happening to you recently that I can’t keep up. Is it true that
you ticked off the Chief Psychologist in front of everybody in the Chalder ward,
called it some kind of witch-doctor, and reminded it of its professional duty
toward Patient AUGL-One Sixteen? According to the stories going around—”
“It wasn’t quite as bad as that,” Cha Thrat said.
“It never is,” the DBLF said, its fur subsiding in dis-appointment. “But the
business during the FROB demonstration, now. You can’t deny or diminish what
happened there.”
“Perhaps,” the Hudlar quietly said, “it would rather not talk about that.”
“Why not?” Tarsedth asked. “Everyone else is talking about it.”
Cha Thrat was silent for a moment as she looked up at the head and shoulders of
the Kelgian projecting like a silver-furred cone over one side of her bed and
the enormous body of the Hudlar looming over the other. She tried to make her
unnaturally fuzzy mind concentrate on what she wanted to say.
“I would prefer to talk about all the lectures I’ve missed,” she said finally.
“Was there anything especially interesting or important? And would you ask
Cresk-Sar if I could have a remote control for the viewscreen, so I can tune in
to the teaching channels? Tell it that I have nothing to do here and I would
like to continue with my studies as soon as possible.”
“Friend,” Tarsedth said, its fur rising into angry spikes, “I think you would be
wasting your time.”
For the first time she wished that her Kelgian classmate was capable of
something less than complete honesty. She had been expecting to hear something
like this, but the bad news could have been broken more gently.
“What our forthright friend should have told you,” the Hudlar said, “is that we
inquired about your exact status from Senior Physician Cresk-Sar, who would not
give us a firm answer. It said that you were guilty not so much of contravening
hospital rules but of breaking rules that nobody had dreamed of writing. The
decision on what to do with you has been< referred up, it said, and you could