The Kelgian’s fur was moving in fast, erratic waves from its nose to the section of the body hidden by the bedside. It said, “I am not an ET psychologist, not even a Kelgian psychologist, but I disagree with you. It is generally accepted that a memory deeply buried is likely to have effects in direct proportion to the depth of its burial when it is uncovered. There is something hiding inside your mind that does not want to come out. If the threat of its discovery can cause a cardiac arrest as well as the other symptoms listed during similar episodes in the past, then it must be located, identified, and uncovered very carefully if you are to survive the experience.”
This time it was the Kelgian who looked at Braithwaite, who nodded in agreement. So once again everyone was thinking that it was all in his mind. Trying to control his anger, which was unnecessary when talking to a Kelgian, Hewlitt said, “And how would you locate and identify this thing?”
There was a moment’s silence, broken by Medalont, who said, “The patient seems to be examining its doctor now. But I, too, am interested in the answer.”
The Kelgian’s fur rose into spikes and subsided before it said, “As yet Senior Physician Medalont has been unable to discover a clinical reason for your condition, Patient Hewlitt, and Lieutenant Braithwaite has found no evidence of major psychological disturbance. But if there is something there you must be aware of it, you must feel that something is wrong however tenuous the feeling might be. I suggest that an even closer investigation be made of your feelings, a more thorough one than is possible using the lieutenant’s verbal examination techniques.
“An examination by a Cinrusskin empath like Prilicla,” it ended, “might be able to detect feelings that you were unaware of having, and probably the reasons for them.”
“But I feel well, usually,” Hewlitt protested. “And wouldn’t I be the first to know if I didn’t? Anyway, I have met some pretty horrible-looking people since I came here, but I don’t remember if one of them was a Cinrusskin.”
“If you had seen Prilicla,” said the Kelgian, “you would remember it.”
Before he could reply, Medalont clicked a pincer for silence and said, “And you must also remember that Cinrusskins are empaths, not telepaths, who can detect and isolate the most subtle feelings, but not the reasons for them. The suggestion of exposing Patient Hewlitt to an emotion-sensitive is a good one, so good that it has already been suggested by Psychology Department and myself. Regrettably, it cannot be adopted until Senior Physician Prilicla returns from Wemar, two weeks hence. In the meantime, Patient Hewlitt has kindly agreed to assist your training by submitting to a multispecies examination by all of you. You have lectures to attend and your time here is limited. Let us proceed.”
Some of the examinations were less gentle than others, but none so uncomfortable that he felt it necessary to complain, and he had to answer the questions instead of trying to ask them. Finally it was over. Medalont and the trainees thanked him individually and departed, leaving him alone with Braithwaite.
“You survived that very well, Patient Hewlitt,” said the lieutenant. “I’m impressed.”
“And what about your special, uncomfortable, and stressful test that you won’t allow to get out of hand?” said Hewlitt, “Will I survive that as well?”
Braithwaite laughed. “You just did.”
“I see,” said Hewlitt. “You were seeing how my nonexistent psychosis would react to a mass attack by aliens, right? Well, I still don’t feel comfortable with them around me, but for some reason I seem to be feeling more curious, I mean really curious about them, rather than frightened. Why should that be?”
“Curious, that’s good,” said the psychologist. Without answering the question, he went on, “You have another problem. The amount of time that a hospital doctor can spend with any patient, especially a non-urgent patient undergoing negative treatment like yourself, is very small. Have you any ideas for keeping yourself amused during the next few weeks?”
“Are you trying to tell me,” said Hewlitt angrily, “that nothing will be done about me, apart from using my body as a kind of healthy benchmark for trainees, until this Prilicla character arrives to read my emotions? Then, I suppose it, too, will tell me that there is nothing wrong with me, that it is all in my mind, and that I should get a grip on myself, go home and stop wasting everybody’s time. And until then you are going to do nothing at all?”
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