atmosphere line visible was the small-diameterpipe supplying air to the tunnel
itself. Irritated with herself, she pressed the nearest audible label.
“I am an automatic self-monitoring control unit for synthesizer process One
Twelve B,” it said importantly. “Press blue stud and access panel will move
aside. Warning. Only the container and audible label are reus-able. If faulty,
components must be replaced and not repaired. Not to be opened by MSVK, LSVO, or
other species with low radiation tolerance unless special protective measures
are taken.”
She had no desire to open the cabinet, even though her radiation monitor was
indicating that the area was safe for her particular life-form. At the next
alcove she had another look at her map and list of color codings.
Somehow she had wandered into one of the sections that were inhabited only by
automatic machinery. The map indicated fifteen such areas within the main
hospital complex, and none of them was anywhere near her , planned route.
Plainly she had taken a wrong turning, perhaps a series of wrong turnings, soon
after leaving the spiral tunnel connecting the PVSJ ward with its new operating
room.
She moved on again, watching the tunnel walls and roof in the hope that the next
change in the color codings would give her a clue to where she might be. She
also cursed her own stupidity aloud and touched every label she passed, but soon
decided that both activities were nonproductive. It was a wise decision because,
at the next tunnel intersection, she heard distant voices.
Timmins had told her not to speak to anyone or to enter any of the public
corridors. But, she reasoned, if she was already hopelessly off-course then
there was nothing to stop her taking the side tunnel and moving toward the
sound. Perhaps by listening at one of the corridor ventilating grilles she might
overhear a conversation that would give her a clue to her present whereabouts.
The thought made Cha Thrat feel ashamed but, compared with some of the things
she had been forced tothink about recently, it was a small, personal dishonor
that she thought she could live with.
There were lengthy breaks in the conversation. At first the voices were too
quiet and distant for her translator to catch what was being said, and when she
came closer the people concerned were indulging in one of their lengthy
silences. The result was that when she came to the next intersection, she saw
them before there was another chance to overhear them.
They were a Kelgian DBLF and an Earth-human DBDG, dressed in Maintenance
coveralls with the additional insignia of Monitor Corps rank. There were tools
and dismantled sections of piping on the floor between them and, after glancing
up at her briefly, they went on talking to each other.
“I wondered what was coming at us along the corridor,” the Kelgian said, “and
making more noise than a drunken Tralthan. It must be the new DCNF we were told
about, on its first day underground. We mustn’t talk to it, not that I’d want
to, anyway. Strange-looking creature, isn’t it?”
“I wouldn’t dream of talking to it, or vice versa,” the DBDG replied. “Pass me
the Number Eleven gripper and hold your end steady. Do you think it knows where
it’s going?”
The Kelgian’s conical head turned briefly in the direction Cha Thrat was headed,
and it said, “Not unless it was feeling that the tunnel walls were closing in on
itv and it wanted to treat threatened claustrophobia with a* jolt of agoraphobia
by walking on the outer hull. This, is no job for a Corps senior non-com
shortly, if what the Major says is true, to be promoted Lieutenant.”
“This is no job for anybody, so don’t worry about it,” the Earth-human said. It
turned to look pointedly along,the corridor to the left. “On the other hand, it
could be contemplating a visit to the VTXM section. Stupid in a lightweight
suit, of course, but maintenance trainees have to be stupid or they’d try for
some other job.”
The Kelgian made an angry sound that did not translate, then said, “Why is it
that nowhere in the vast immensity of explored space have we discovered yet a