CHAPTER 5
Goglesk had been a borderline case so far as the Cultural Contact people were concerned. Full contact with such a technologically backward culture was dangerous, because when the Monitor Corps ships dropped out of their skies, they could not be sure whether they were giving the Gogleskans a future goal toward which to aim or a devastating inferiority complex. But the natives, in spite of their backwardness in the physical sciences and the obscure racial psychosis which forced them to remain so, were psychologically stable as individuals, and the planet had not known war for many thousands of years.
The easiest course would have been to withdraw and leave the Gogleskan culture to continue as it had been doing since the dawn of its history, and write their problem off as being insoluble. Instead, Cultural Contact had made one of its very rare compromises.
They had established a small base to accommodate a handful of observers, their supplies and equipment, which included a flyer and two general-purpose ground vehicles. The purpose of the base was to observe and gather data, nothing more. But Wainright and his team had developed a liking for those sorely tried natives and, contrary to their instructions, wanted to do more.
Problems had been encountered in obtaining accurate translations with their relatively simple equipment-the Gogleskan wordsounds were made by producing minor variations in the quantity of air expelled through four separate breathing orifices, and several potentially dangerous misunderstandings had occurred. They had decided to send their language data for checking and reprocessing to the big multitranslation computer at Sector General. So as not to disobey their instructions directly, they accompanied the material with a brief statement on the Gogleskan situation and a request to the hospital’s Department of E-T Psychology for information on any similar life-form or condition which Sector General might have encountered in the past.
“… But instead of sending information,” the Lieutenant went on as he lifted the groundcar over a fallen tree which was blocking the path they were following through the forest, “they sent us Senior Physician Conway, who is—”
“Here simply to observe,” Conway broke in, “and to rest.”
Wainright laughed. “You didn’t rest much during the past four days.”
“That’s because I was too busy observing,” Conway said dryly. “But I wish Khone had come back to see me. You think I should visit it now?”
“That could be the correct behavior in these circumstances,” the other replied. “They have some odd rules and, intensely individualistic as they are, they may consider two consecutive and uninvited visits to be an unwarranted intrusion. If a person’s first visit is welcome, you may simply be expected to return it. We’re entering the inhabited area now.”
Gradually the forest floor had become clear of small trees and bushes, leaving only a thin carpet of grasslike vegetation between the massive trunks which served as the main structural supports for the Gogleskan dwellings. To Conway they looked like the log cabins of ancient history-but roofless because the overhanging branches provided all the necessary weather protection-and the wide variation in style and quality of workmanship made it clear that they had been built by their occupiers rather than by an organization specializing in home construction.
If a species’ progress was based on group and tribal cooperation, it was easy to understand why there had been so little of it on Goglesk. But why, Conway wondered for the hundredth time since his arrival, did they refuse to cooperate with each other when they were so obviously intelligent, friendly, and nonaggressive?
“And highly accident-prone,” the Lieutenant said, making Conway realize that he had been thinking aloud. “This looks like a good place to ask questions.”
“Right,” Conway said, opening the canopy. They had drawn level with three Gogleskans who were grouped, very loosely, around one of their spindly-legged draught animals and the contraption of unknown purpose to which it was harnessed. He went on. “Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant. I’ll wander around and talk to a few people in addition to Khone, if I can find it, then walk back to base. If I get lost I’ll call you.”
Wainright shook his head and cut the vehicle’s power, letting it settle to the ground. He said, “You aren’t in your hospital now, where everybody is either a medic or a patient. The rule is that we go around in pairs. There is no danger of giving offense provided you don’t move too close to them, or me. After you, Doctor.”
Followed at a distance by the Lieutenant, Conway climbed down and walked toward the three natives, stopping several paces before he came to the nearest one. Not looking at anyone in particular, he said, “Is it possible to be given directions to the dwelling place of the entity Khone?”
One of the Gogleskans indicated the direction with two of its long spikes. “If the vehicle proceeds in that direction,” it sighed at them, “a clearing will be encountered. More precise directions may be obtained there.”
“Gratitude is expressed,” Conway said, and returned to the groundcar.
The clearing turned out to be a wide crescent of grass and rocky outcroppings on the shore of a large inland lake, judging by the absence of sand and the small size of the waves. There were several jetties projecting into the deeper water, and most of the small craft tied alongside had thin smokestacks as well as sails. The buildings clustered near the water’s edge were tall, three or four stories high, built of stone and wood, and with ascending ramps running up and around all four faces, so that from certain angles they looked like thin pyramids, an effect which was enhanced by their tall, conical roofs.
If it had not been for the all-pervading noise and smoke, the overall effect would have been one of picturesque, medieval charm.
“It is the town’s manufacturing and food-processing center,” the Lieutenant said. “I’ve seen it several times from the flyer. The fish smell will hit you in a minute.”
“It’s hitting me already,” Conway said. He was thinking that if this was what passed for an industrial area, then the healer, Khone, was probably the equivalent of a factory medic. He was looking forward to talking to the being again, and perhaps seeing it at work.
They were directed past a large building whose stonework and wooden beams were smoke-blackened and still smelling of a recent fire, to the edge of the lake where a large boat had sunk at its moorings. Opposite the wreck there was a low, partially roofed structure with a stream running under it. From their elevated position on the groundcar they could see into a mazelike system of corridors and tiny rooms which was Khone’s dwelling and, presumably, an adjoining hospital.
A Gogleskan patient was having something done to its breathing orifices-a nonsurgical investigation, Conway saw, using long wooden probes and dilators, followed by the oral administration of medication also by a long- handled instrument. The patient occupied one cubicle during this procedure and the healer another. It was several minutes before Khone came outside and acknowledged their presence.
“Interest is felt,” Conway said when the three of them were on the ground and standing at the points of an invisible equilateral triangle more than three meters on the side, “in the subject of healing on Goglesk. Comparisons of other-world knowledge and treatments might be made, of illnesses, injuries, and nonphysical disorders, and particularly of surgical procedures and anatomical studies.”
Khone’s center of attention was in the space between Wainright and Conway as it replied, “There is no curative surgery on Goglesk. Anatomical work is possible only on cadavers stripped of stings and residual poisons. Personal physical contact, except for the purposes of procreation or the care of nonadults, is dangerous for both the healer and patient. A certain minimum distance is essential for the performance of my work.”
“But why?” Conway said, moving instinctively toward the healer.
Then he saw that Khone’s fur was agitated and that the spikes all over its body were twitching. He turned toward the Lieutenant, ostensibly addressing Wainright when he spoke.
“An instrument in my possession enables a trained healer to observe the position and workings of internal organs and to chart the locations of bones and principal blood vessels,” Conway said, and withdrew the scanner from its pouch at his side.
He began passing it slowly along his other arm, then moved it to his head, chest, and abdomen, describing in his most impersonal, lecturing voice the function of the organs, bone structure, and associated musculature
