White, James – Sector General 10 – Final Diagnosis

“Friend Naydrad,” it continued. “We have a four-day hyperjump to Sector General. That should give us enough time for a fullscale clinical investigation and test of responses to the complete range of DBDG medication currently in use, including types already used on Patient Hewlitt but discontinued because of the allergic reactions. In case there is an emergency, set up for continuous levelthree monitoring …

“But I don’t understand,” said Stillman, raising his voice above the sounds of a ship preparing for imminent departure. “Lonvellin died. Its ship was vaporized with it inside before Hewlitt was even born.”

“Unless you wish to make an unscheduled visit to Sector General, friend Stillman,” said Prilicla as the sound of Fletcher and Danalta climbing the boarding ramp reached them, “you must leave the ship at once. There is no time to explain now, but I shall send copies of our findings to the colonel and yourself in due course. Please excuse my bad manners, thank you for your cooperation, and good-bye.”

Hewlitt waited until the Monitor Corps officer disappeared through the personnel lock, and then he said, “I don’t understand what the hell is going on, either. Why do you want to test me with medication you know has nearly killed me in the past?”

“Compose yourself, friend Hewlitt,” said Prilicla, beginning to tremble again. “I do not believe that you will be at serious risk. Please return to your bed and remain there until I give you permission to leave it. Your hush field will be maintained while we are discussing ideas and procedures that you might find unsettling.”

CHAPTER 22

Hewlitt kept his eyes on the flickering, grey noncolor of hyperspace outside the direct-vision panel and waited for something calamitous to happen to him. He did not look at any of the others, because they were watching him, waiting for the same thing to occur while smiling or otherwise trying to radiate encouragement. The amount of monitoring equipment surrounding him and the number of sensors taped to his body were not encouraging.

“You told me that I was to be given no medication of any kind,” Hewlitt said as Murchison touched another hyposprayer to his upper arm and the unfelt dose was administered. “Now you seem to be trying me on everything in stock. Why, dammit?”

The pathologist watched him closely for about three minutes, then said, “We changed our mind. How do you feel?”

“All right,” he replied. “No change except that I feel a little drowsy. How am I supposed to feel?”

“All right, and a little drowsy,” said Murchison, smiling. “It was a mild sedative I gave you. It should help you to relax.”

“When Senior Physician Medalont tried to give me a sedative,” said Hewlitt, “you know what happened.”

“Yes,” said Murchison. “But we have tested you with that particular medication, and a few others in minute quantities, without any sign of your customary hyperallergic reaction. I’m trying another, a new one that was not available to your planetside doctors. What do you feel, now?”

Hewlitt felt the downdraft from Prilicla’s wings against his face and chest as the little empath flew closer, but he knew that particular sensation was of no interest to the pathologist.

“Still nothing,” he replied, then, “No, wait. The whole area is going numb. What’s happening?”

“Nothing you need worry about,” said the pathologist, smiling again. “This time I’m testing a local anesthetic. According to the monitor your life signs are optimum. But are there any other symptoms, a mild itching of the skin, a general feeling of unease or any other symptoms, possibly subjective, which could be your subconscious giving an early warning of trouble to come?”

“No,” said Hewlitt.

Prilicla made a soft trilling sound that did not translate, then said, “The patient is being polite while trying to control intense feelings of curiosity, concern, confusion, and irritation. Perhaps the relief of the first would reduce the intensity of the other three. You have questions, friend Hewlitt. I can answer some of them now.”

But not all of them, Hewlitt thought. He was surprised when Murchison spoke first.

“You know that we all have questions, sir,” she said, looking from Danalta to Naydrad and back to Prilicla. “Why all the fuss over an ex-patient who died a quarter of a century ago? What was the reason for that signal calling for precautions against cross-species infection when we know it is impossible anyway? Why the sudden return to Sector General and the battery of tests ordered for Patient Hewlitt?”

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