be modified, Doctor. I think it should be forgotten like a bad dream. My ward can’t take another such …”
The Charge Nurse broke off because Edanelt had raised a fore-limb and was clicking a pincer together slowly in the Melfan sign that it wanted attention.
“The demonstration has been interesting and on the whole successful,” it said, “although the present devastation in the ward might suggest otherwise. The unnecessarily slow rate of recovery with Chalder patients has a psychological basis, as we know. Post-operatively they tend to become listless, bored, lazy and uncaring about their future. This new food package, which should be served only to mobile, convalescent patients, promises to change that. Judging by the reaction of One-Thirteen and future convalescent patients I would expect the boring nature of mealtimes to be relieved, considerably, by this constant reminder of the pleasures of chasing and eating the real food that awaits them on their home world. The patients under clinical restraint, observing their mobile brethren, will try to reach the convalescent stage as quickly as possible.
“You are all to be complimented,” it went on, looking at the four of them in turn, “but especially the Chief Dietitian for its imaginative solution to what has been until now a serious problem among recuperating Chalders. I have, however, two suggestions to make.”
Edanelt paused and they waited in silence. The Melfan was an unusually polite entity considering its high medical rank, but to a mere Pathologist, a Lieutenant of Maintenance, a Charge Nurse and even a Chief Dietitian, the suggestions of a Senior Physician rumored soon to be elevated to Diagnostician were indistinguishable from orders.
“Gurronsevas,” it went on, “I would like Timmins and yourself to redesign the mobile Chalder meal with a view to reducing its velocity and maneuverability. The physical effort involved in catching the food, however enjoyable it is for the diner and exciting for the watchers, could place the patient in danger of a relapse. Also, a less agile food package would greatly reduce the risk of structural damage to the ward equipment and decoration.”
It turned towards Hredlichli and continued, “That risk could be further reduced by the right psychological approach on the part of your nurses and yourself. Nothing too authoritarian, you understand, because the Chalders are a sensitive species in spite of their imposing physical appearance. Just a gentle reminder that we are friends who are trying to cure them as quickly as possible so that they can go home. And suggest that at home they would not display such unruly eating manners in the dwelling of a friend. I feel sure this approach will greatly reduce the risk of structural damage. That should make you feel happier, Charge Nurse.”
“Yes, doctor,” said Hredlichli in a very unhappy voice.
“It will certainly make the maintenance department happier,” said Timmins. “We will begin work on the modifications at once.”
“Thank you,” said Edanelt, and returned its attention to Gurronsevas. “But I can’t help wondering which problem our very unpredictable Chief Dietitian will address next.”
For a moment Gurronsevas was silent. On the Station’s communicator the nurses were reporting on the condition of their patients who, they said, were displaying excitement but no other symptoms that would arouse clinical concern. The Senior’s words, he realized, had not been a mere politeness. It was honestly curious and awaiting his answer.
“I am undecided, Doctor Edanelt,” he said, “because I still lack dietary experience in many areas. For that reason I began with this minor and isolated problem involving a small number of Chalders, rather than modifying the meals served to a species which is more numerous within the hospital, and which would object massively if the changes were not to their liking. I plan to concentrate initially on the dietary needs of individuals. The first tests will be conducted on volunteers, but later it may be necessary to conduct them covertly without the knowledge of the target subjects. I would not want to attempt any major changes with the larger species’ groups until I have more knowledge of medical and technical problems involved.”
“Ghu-Burbi be thanked,” said Hredlichli.
“That seems like a sensible plan,” Edanelt said. “Who is to be your next subject?”
“A staff member this time,” Gurronsevas replied. “I had several entities in mind but, under the circumstances, and out of consideration for its co-operation in providing facilities for today’s test,
“But, but you’re not even a chlorine-breather!” Hredlichli burst out. “You’ll
Edanelt’s crab-like, Melfan body began shaking gently and it was making noises which did not translate. Gurronsevas said, “True, but I have responsibility for the food requirements of everyone in the hospital, regardless of species, and I would be failing in my duty if I restricted my professional activities to warm-blooded oxygen- breathers. Besides, Pathologist Murchison has extensive experience with the PVSJ classification as well as having an Illensan chlorine-breather attached to its department, and they have both promised advice and assistance. They would not allow me to release any edible variants that were unsafe. If you are willing to volunteer, Charge Nurse, I can promise that you will be in no danger.”
“The Charge Nurse will be pleased to volunteer,” said Edanelt, its body still shaking gently. “Hredlichli, the culinary reputation of Gurronsevas throughout the Federation is such that you should feel greatly honored.”
“I feel,” said Hredlichli helplessly, “that I have just contracted a life-threatening disease.”
CHAPTER 8
On Gurronsevas’ second visit to the Department of Other-Species Psychology he found the same three entities busy at their desk consoles, but in the intervening time he had discovered who as well as what they were. The Earth-human in Monitor-green uniform was Lieutenant Braithwaite, O’Mara’s principal assistant; the Sommaradvan, Cha Thrat, was an advanced trainee; and Lioren, the Tarlan, was a specialist in the uncertain area where other-species religions and psychology overlapped. This time he did not address himself to the entity possessing the highest rank, as was his custom, because all three of them might be able to help him.
“I am Chief Dietitian Gurronsevas,” he said quietly. “If it is possible I would like to obtain information and assistance with a matter requiring a high degree of confidentiality.”
“We remember you, Gurronsevas,” said Lieutenant Braithwaite, looking up. “But you have called at the wrong time. Major O’Mara is attending the monthly meeting of Diagnosticians. Can I help you, or will you make an appointment?”
“I have called at the right time,” said Gurronsevas. “It is about the Chief Psychologist that I wish to consult you, all of you, in confidence.”
There came the strange, negative sound of three entities ceasing to work. Braithwaite said, “Please go on.”
“Thank you,” Gurronsevas said, moving closer and lowering his voice. “Since I joined the hospital I have not seen the Chief Psychologist visit the main dining hall. Is O’Mara in the habit of dining alone?”
“Correct,” said Braithwaite, and smiled. “The Major rarely dines socially or in public. It is his contention that doing so might give the staff the idea that he is only human after all, with all the usual human faults and weaknesses, and that might be prejudicial to discipline.”
“I do not understand,” said Gurronsevas, after a moment’s thought. “Is there an emotional problem involved, a crisis of identity perhaps? If the Chief Psychologist does not wish to be thought of as human, to which other species does it believe itself to belong? This information, if it is not privileged and you are willing to divulge it, would greatly assist me in the preparation of suitable meals. I am assuming that the solitary eating habit is to conceal the fact that it does not eat Earth-human food.”
Cha Thrat and Lioren were making quiet sounds which did not translate and Braithwaite’s smile had widened. It said, “The Chief Psychologist is not psychologically disturbed. I’m afraid my remark — about him not wanting to appear human — suffered in translation, and misled you. But what is it that you want to know, and how exactly can we help you? You give the impression that it has something to do with the Major’s food intake.”
“It has,” said Gurronsevas. “Specifically, I would like all the information you can give me regarding its food preferences, the ordering frequency of favorite dishes, and any critical remarks the subject has made or may make about them in future.
