“Not at all,” Conway said, slipping the package into a tunic pocket.
“Your personal gear is inside the air lock, Doctor,” the Captain said. “It was a pleasure meeting you.
They did not take off at once, but the heat from Trennelgon’s tail-flare as it took off half a mile behind him warmed the back of Conway’s neck. He continued walking toward the three closely grouped hemispheres which were the accommodation normally used for a non-permanent base with minimum personnel. He had not taken a gravity float for his gear, because his belongings fitted easily into a backpack and a large handgrip, but the late evening sun was warm, and he decided to put down his grip for a moment and rest — the degree of urgency on this job, after all, was zero.
It was then that the strangeness hit him.
He looked down at the earth which was not of the Earth; at the grass which was subtly different from that of his home world; and at the undergrowth, wildflowers, vegetation, and distant trees which, although looking superfically similar, were the products of a completely different evolutionary process. He shivered briefly despite the heat as the feeling of intrusion which he always felt on these occasions washed over him, and he thought of the less-subtle differences which would soon become manifest in this world’s dominant lifeform. He lifted the handgrip and began walking again.
When he was still a few minutes away from the largest of the three bubble buildings, its main entrance slid open and a figure came hurrying out to meet him. The man was wearing the uniform and insignia of a lieutenant in the Monitor Corps’s Cultural Contact section, and was capless — he was either a naturally sioppy person or one of the Corps’s academics who had little time for worrying about their uniforms or any other clothing they might be wearing. He was well built, with fair, receding hair and highly mobile features, and he spoke when they were still more than three meters apart.
“I’m Wainright,” he said quickly. “You must be the Sector General medic, Conway. Did you bring the language program?”
Conway nodded and reached into his tunic pocket with his left hand while proffering the right to the Lieutenant. Wainright drew back quickly.
“No, Doctor,” he said apologetically but firmly. “You must get out of the habit of shaking hands here, or of making any other kind of physical contact. It isn’t done on this planet, except in certain rare circumstances, and the natives find it, well, disquieting if they see us doing it. But that bag looks heavy. If you place it on the ground and move away, I’ll be happy to carry it for you.”
“I can manage, thanks,” Conway said absently. There were several questions lining up in his mind, jostling each other for priority in vocalization. He began to walk toward the bubble with the Lieutenant at his side, but still separated from him by a distance of three meters.
“That tape will be very useful, Doctor,” Wainright said. “Our translation computer should be able to handle the language now, with a lot fewer misunderstandings. But we weren’t expecting someone from Sector General to be sent out so quickly. Thanks for coming, Doctor.”
Conway waved away the thanks with his free hand and said, “Don’t expect me to solve your problem, whatever it is, as easily as all that. I’ve been sent here to observe the situation, and think about it, and He thought of the principal reason O’Mara had sent him to Goglesk, to think about his future at the hospital, but he did not feel like telling the Lieutenant about that just yet, so he ended,
And to rest.’’
Wainright looked at him sharply, his expression registering concern. But it was obvious that the Lieutenant was much too polite to ask Conway why a Senior Physician from the Federation’s largest hospital, where every conceivable medical and psychological treatment was available, had come here to rest.
Instead, he said, “Speaking of rest, Doctor, where were you on ship time? Is it after breakfast, the middle of your day, or long past your bedtime? Would you like to rest now? It is late afternoon here, and we can easily talk in the morning.”
Conway said, “I slept well and wakened less than two hours ago, and I want to talk now. In fact, if you don’t stop me asking questions, Lieutenant, it is you who are going to miss a lot of sleep.”
“I won’t stop you, Doctor.” Wainright laughed. “I don’t want to suggest that my assistants are not always entertaining people, or that their digital dexterity is sometimes used to influence the laws of probability while playing cards, but it will be nice having someone new to talk to. Besides, the natives disappear at sunset, and there is nothing to do except talk about them, and that hasn’t gotten us very far up until now.”
He entered the building in front of Conway. There was a narrow corridor inside with a nearby door which had the Lieutenant’s name on it. Wainright stopped in front of the door, looked quickly in both directions, and then asked Conway for the tape.
“Come in, Doctor,” he said then, sliding open the door and walking across the large office to a desk which had a translator terminal on its top. Conway looked around the office, which was lit by the warm, orange light of the near-to-setting sun. Most of the floor space was empty of furniture, with the desk, filing and retrieval systems, projection equipment, and even the visitors’ chairs crowded against the wall opposite to the window. Beside the window there was a large, dumpy cactuslike plant whose spikes and hair were richly colored in a pattern which seemed less random the more he looked at it.
He became aware of a faint odor coming from the planet, a smell which seemed to be a combination of musk and peppermint, and he moved across the office for a closer examination.
The cactus moved back.
“This is Khone.” The Lieutenant switched on the translator. He indicated the Doctor and said, “This is Conway. He, too, is a healer.”
While Wainright was talking, the translator had been producing a harsh, sighing sound which had to be the being’s language. Conway thought for a moment, discarding in turn a number of polite, diplomatic phrases his own species used on occasions like this. It was better to be positive and unambiguous.
“I wish you well, Khone,” he said.
“And I, you,” the extraterrestrial said.
Wainright said quickly, “You should know, Doctor, that names are used only once during a conversation for the purposes of introduction, identification, or recognition. After the initial use, try to speak as impersonally as possible so as to avoid giving offense. Later, we can discuss this matter more fully. This Gogleskan person has waited until nearly sunset just to meet you, but now …
“… It must leave,” the being ended.
The Lieutenant nodded and said, “A vehicle with a rear loading ramp has been provided, so that the passenger may board and travel while avoiding close physical proximity with the driver. The passenger will be home long before dark.”
“Consideration has been shown,” the Gogleskan said as it turned to go, “and gratitude is expressed.”
During the conversation Conway had been studying the extraterrestrial. The mass of unruly hair and spikes covering its erect, ovoid body were less irregular in their size and placing than he had at first thought. The body hair had mobility, though not the high degree of flexibility and rapid mobility of the Kelgian fur, and the spikes, some of which were extremely flexible and grouped together to form a digital cluster, gave evidence of specialization. The other spikes were longer, stiffer, and some of them seemed to be partially atrophied, as if they had been evolved for natural defense, but the reason for their presence had long since gone. There were also a number of long, pale tendrils lying amid the multicolored hair covering the cranial area, but the purpose of these was unclear.
There was a thin band of dull metal encircling the domelike neckless head, and a few inches below the metal band were two widely spaced and recessed eyes. Its voice seemed to come from a number of small, vertical breathing orifices which encircled its waist. The being sat on a flat, muscular pad, and it was not until it turned to leave that Conway saw that it had legs as well.
These members were stubbly and concertinalike, and when the four of them were in use they increased the height of the being by several inches. He also saw that it had two additional eyes at the back of its head — obviously this species had had to be very watchful in prehistoric times — and he suddenly realized the purpose of the metal band. It was used to suspend a corrective lens over one of the Gogleskan’s eyes.
Despite the physical configuration the being was a warmblooded oxygen-breather and not an intelligent vegetable, and Conway classified it physiologically as FOKT. As it was leaving the room, it paused in the doorway, and a group of its digits twitched briefly.
“Be lonely,” it said.
