“About this Gogleskan,” he said briskly. “What particular problems will it give my department? After the Protector and Junior’s Rumpus Room and the sudden demand for Hudlar prosthetic limbs—”
“There are no special requirements, Colonel,” Conway broke in, smiling, “other than a small isolation compartment with a restricted visitors list and normal environment for a warm-blooded oxygenbreather.”
“Thank Heaven for that,” Skempton said with feeling.
“Regarding the Hudlar prosthetics,” Thornnastor said, turning an eye toward the Colonel. “There will be an additional requirement there due to the pregeriatric amputation procedure suggested by Conway, which has since received the approval of the Chief Psychologist and, apparently, every aging FROB that O’Mara has approached. There are going to be far too many voluntary amputees for the hospital to accommodate, so your department will not be involved in the large-scale manufacture of Hudlar prosthetics, but …
“I’m even more relieved,” the Colonel said.
We will have our designs mass-produced on Hudlar itself,” Thornnastor went on. “The operations will be performed there as well, by Hudlar medics who will be trained at this hospital in the necessary surgical techniques. This will take time to organize, Conway, but I am making it your responsibility, and I would like you to give it a high degree of priority.”
Conway was thinking of their one and only Hudlar medic under training, and the large numbers of same- species trainees who would be joining it, and wondering if their personalities and dispositions would be as attractive and friendly. But then he thought of the living hell the patients in Hudlar Geriatric were going through, with the fully functioning brains trapped inside their disease-ridden, degenerating, and pain-racked bodies, and he decided that the training program would be given a high degree of priority indeed.
“Yes, of course,” he said to Thornnastor. To O’Mara he added, “Thank you.”
Thornnastor’s eyes curled disconcertingly to regard everyone at the same time, and it said, “Let us conclude this meeting as soon as possible so that we can get back to running the hospital instead of talking interminably about it. O’Mara, you have something to say?”
“Only the completion of my suggested list of promotions and appointments,” the Chief Psychologist said. “I’ll be brief. One name, Conway, subject to satisfactory completion of the verbal examination by those present, to be confirmed in his present status and appointed to the position of Diagnostician-in-Charge of Surgery.”
Thornnastor’s eyes waved briefly along the table before returning to O’Mara. It said, “Not necessary. No dissent. Confirmed.”
When the congratulations were over, Conway sat staring at the Chief Psychologist while their more massive colleagues cleared the exit, thinking that he would feel very pleased with himself when the shock wore off. O’Mara was staring back at him, his expression as grim and sour-faced as ever, but with a look in his eyes which was very much like paternal pride.
“The way you’ve been hacking through patients these past few weeks,” O’Mara said gruffly, “what else did you expect?”
