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White, James – Sector General 10 – Final Diagnosis

Prilicla flew closer and said, “Its emotional radiation is characteristic of a very old and contented entity who is without physical or mental distress and is presently enjoying the stroking of its fur. If it could speak it would tell you that it is well, and to please continue what you are doing. Friend Murchison, you know what to do.”

“Yes indeed,” the pathologist replied, producing her scanner. “Crajarron, Surriltor, may I?” To Hewlitt she added, “This won’t hurt at all, just hold it steady for a moment while I scan. I’m recording for later study, if necessary.”

Fudge must have thought that she was playing a new game, because it took a double swipe at the scanner with claws sheathed, then returned to the enjoyment of the petting while she completed the examination.

“Do you wish to reclaim your property, Earth-person Hewlitt?” said Crajarron. Both Tralthans were directing all of their eyes at him, and he did not need an empathic faculty or the sight of Prilicla trembling to know that the interspecies social relations were cooling fast.

“Thank you, no,” he said, returning Fudge to the floor. “Plainly the cat likes it here and would be unhappy elsewhere, but I am grateful for this opportunity to renew an old friendship.”

The atmosphere thawed at once, Prilicla regained flight stability, and Fudge transferred its affections to Surriltor by jumping onto one of the Tralthan’s massive feet. A few minutes later their polite exchange of farewells was interrupted by the house communicator’s double chime, signaling an incoming call.

It was Dr. Hamilton.

“Sorry I won’t be able to answer your questions in person, Dr. Prilicla,” he said. “Stillman will have told you that I’m visiting the Vespara establishment on Yunnet right now. One of the joys of being an other-species peripetetic dentist on this world. How can I help you?”

While Prilicla was explaining what it wanted, the two Tralthans, not wanting to eavesdrop on what might be a private conversation, moved to a corner of the room and raised their hush field. Hewlitt stared hard at the screen, trying to remember the other’s face and voice, but the only memory that came was of shining instruments and hands projecting from white cuffs. Perhaps he had not looked at the other’s face long enough for it to register.

“I remember the incident,” said the dentist, “not because it was important but because it was the first and only time I was asked to extract teeth that would have detached themselves naturally. At the time I decided that the child was overimaginative, timid, and unwilling to inflict what he believed would be serious pain on himself by pulling out the teeth with his fingers, as most children do, and his mother had taken him to me to sort out the problem. It was too minor a procedure to require an anesthetic and, I remember now, there was a note in his med file warning against the use of painkilling medication because of a then unidentified allergy.”

“We are still having trouble identifying it,” said Murchison. “What happened to the teeth? Did you keep or examine them following the extraction?”

“There was no reason to do that,” said Hamilton, and laughed. “They were just ordinary children’s first teeth. Besides, if you are unfamiliar with the tooth-fairy myth current among young Earthchildren, he insisted on having them back for financial reasons.”

“Is there anything else you can remember about the incident, friend Hamilton?” said Prilicla. “No matter how odd or unimportant it may have seemed at the time.”

“Sorry, no,” the dentist replied. “I never saw the child again, so presumably the rest of his baby teeth detached normally.”

Hewlitt barely heard the end of the conversation, because he was remembering something else about those teeth, something he had almost forgotten until the dentist’s words brought it back. He had not told anyone about it, then or later, because they would have said that it was all his imagination. Even as a child he had hated people telling him that he was imagining things.

“Friend Hewlitt,” said Prilicla, drifting closer, “your emotional radiation, comprising minor levels of irritation, caution, and expected embarrassment, suggests that you are hiding something from us. Please tell us about it. We will not laugh or embarrass you. Any new datum on this case could turn out to be important.”

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Categories: White, James
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