“No,” Naydrad replied. “I don’t have the time to explain all the ramifications
of the case, especially to a maintenance technician who has a morbid curiosity
but no direct concern, or who feels lonely and wants to talkinstead of work. Be
glad you have no responsibility, this is a very tricky one.
“Anyway,” it went on, pointing toward the viewer and reference shelves at the
other side of the compartment, “our copy of the case-history tape runs for over
two hours, if you’re that interested. Just don’t take it off the ship.”
She continued working, in spite of a constant temptation to break off for a
quick look at the FOKT tape, until the maintenance engineer who had been
checking Control poked its Earth-human head into the casualty deck.
“Time for lunch,” it said. “I’m going to the dining hall. Coming?”
“No, thank you,” she. replied. “There’s something 1 have to do here.”
“This is the second time in three days you’ve missed lunch,” the Earth-human
said. “Do Sommaradvans have some kind of crazy work ethic? Aren’t you hungry, or
is it just an understandable aversion to hospital food?”
“No, yes very, and sometimes,” Cha Thrat said.
“I’ve a pack of sandwiches,” it said. “Guaranteed nutritious, nontoxic to all
oxy-breathers and if you don’t look too’ closely at what’s inside, you should be
able to make them stay down. Interested?”
“Very much,” Cha Thrat replied gratefully, thinking that now she would be able
to satisfy her complaining stomach and spend the whole lunch period watching the
FOKT tape.
The muted but insistent sound of the emergency siren brought her mind back from
Goglesk and its peculiar problems to the realization that she had spent much
longer than the stipulated lunch period watchjng the tape, and that the empty
ship was rapidly filling with people.
She saw three Earth-humans in Monitor Corps greengo past the casualty deck
entrance, heading toward Control, and a few minutes later the lumpy green ball
that was Danalta rolled onto the casualty deck. It was closely followed by an
Earth-human, wearing whites with Pathology Department insignia, who had to be
the DBDG female, Murchison; then Naydrad and Prilicla entered, the Kelgian
undulating rapidly along the deck and the insectile Cinrusskin empath using the
ceiling. The Charge Nurse went straight to the viewer, which was still running
the FOKT tape, and switched it off as two more Earth-humans came in.
One of them was Timmins and the other, judging by the uniform insignia and its
air of authority, was the ship’s ruler, Major Fletcher. It was the Lieutenant
who spoke first.
“How long will it take you to finish here?” it said.
“The rest of today,” Cha Thrat replied promptly, “and most of the night.”
Fletcher shook its head.
“I could bring in more people, sir,” Timmins said. “They would have to be
briefed on the job, which would waste some time. But I’m sure I could shorten
that to four, perhaps three hours.”
The ship ruler shook its head again.
“There is only one alternative,” the Lieutenant said.
For the first time Fletcher looked directly at Cha Thrat. It said, “The
Lieutenant tells me that you are capable of completing and testing this facility
yourself. Are you?”
“Yes,” Cha Thrat said.
“Have you any objections to doing so during a three-day trip to Goglesk?”
“No,” she said firmly.
The Earth-human looked up at Prilicla, the leader of the ship’s medical team,
not needing to speak.
“I fee! no strong objections from my colleagues to this being accompanying us,
friend Fletcher,” the empath said, “since this is an emergency.”
“In that case,” Fletcher said as it turned to go, “we leave in fifteen minutes.”
Timmins looked as if it wanted to say something, a word of caution, perhaps, or
advice, or reassurance. Instead it held up a loosely clenched fist with the
oppos-able thumb projecting vertically from it in a gesture she had not seen it
make before, and then it, too, was gone. Cha Thrat heard the sound of its feet
on the metal floor of the ship’s boarding tube and, in spite of the four widely
different life-forms closely surrounding her, suddenly she felt ail alone.