cannot see or hear us.”
A few minutes later it continued. “The levels of fear, anger, and antagonism
have diminished, and its hunger remains at the same intensity. For reasons that
aren’t clear to me at the moment, the crew member’s behavior is irrational and
emotionally unstable. But it is in no immediate danger where it is, and it is
not in any pain. Friend Murchison.”
“Yes?” the Pathologist responded. “When you are examining that cadaver,” it went
on, “pay special attention to the head. It has occurred to me that the cranial
injury may not have been an accident, ‘ but was deliberately self-inflicted in
response to acute and continuing cranial discomfort. You should look for
evidence of an area of infection or cell degeneration affecting the brain
tissues, which may have adversely affected or destroyed its higher centers of
mentation andemotional control.
“Friend Fletcher,” it went on without waiting for a reply, “we must quickly
locate and check the condition of the other survivors. But carefully, in case
they are behaving like our friend in Control.”
With Prilicla’s empathic faculty to guide them, they quickly found the three
large dormitory compartments containing the remaining conscious survivors, five
in one room and four in each of the others. The doors were not locked but the
occupants had not used the simple latch system that would have opened them from
the inside. The artificial gravity system was in operation, and the brief look
they were able to catch before the occupants spotted and began to attack them
showed plain, unde-corated metal walls and flooring that was covered by
disordered bedding and wrecked waste-disposal equip-ment. The smell, Cha Thrat
thought, could have been cut with a knife.
“Friend Fletcher,” Prilicla said as they were leaving the last dormitory, “all
of the crew members are physically active and without pain, and if it wasn’t for
the fact that they are clearly no longer capable of working their ship, I would
say that they are quite healthy. Unless friend Murchison discovers a clinical
reason for their abnormal behavior, there is nothing we can do for them.
“I realize that I am being both cowardly and selfish,” it went on, “but I do not
want to endanger our casualty deck equipment and terrify friend Khone by moving
in close on twenty oversized, overactive, and, at present, underintelligent
life-forms who—”
“I agree,” Fletcher said firmly. “If that lot got loose, they could wreck my
ship and not just the casualty deck. The alternative is to keep them here,
extend Rhabwar’s hyperspace envelope, and Jump both ships to Sector General.”
“That was my thought as well, friend Fletcher,” Prilicla replied. “Also, that
you rig the boarding tube so that we can have rapid access to the survivors,
that we gather samples of all packets and containers likely to hold this
life-form’s food or nutritious fluids. The only symptom these people display is
intense hunger and, considering the size of their teeth, I would like to relieve
it as soon as possible in case they start eating each other.”
“And,” the Pathologist’s voice joined in, “you want me to analyze the samples so
as to tell you which containers hold paint and which soup?”
“Thank you, friend Murchison,” the empath said, and went on. “As well as your
cranial investigation would you look at the cadaver’s general metabolism with a
view to suggesting a safe anesthetic for use on these people, something
fast-acting that we can shoot into them at adistance. They must all be
anesthetized very quickly because—”
“For fast work like that,” Murchison broke in, “I’ll need Rhabwar1* lab, not a
portable analyzer like this one. And I’ll need the whole team to help me.”
“Because,” Prilicla resumed quietly, “I have a feeling that there is another
survivor who is not healthy and active and hungry. Its emotional radiation is
extremely weak and characteristic of an entity who is deeply unconscious and
perhaps dying. But I am unable to locate it because of the stronger, overriding
emanations from the conscious survivors. That is why, as soon as the samples are
gathered for friend Murchison, I would like ‘ every hole, comer, or compartment
large enough to hold an FGHJ searched.