And the stomach resembles that of an Earth-type ruminant. The digestive system is odd, too, but I’d have to work out the whole intake to elimination cycle to make any sense out of it, and I can’t do that down here. I’d love to know what these things ate before their food ran out.”
“I’m passing a storage deck of some kind,” Fletcher said at that point. “It is divided into large racks with passages between mem. The racks are filled with containers of different colors and sizes with funnellike dispensers at one end. There are wastebins holding empties, and some of the full and empty containers have spilled out into the corridor.”
“May I have samples, please,” Murchison said quickly, “of both.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the Captain replied. “Considering the starved condition of the survivors they are more likely to contain paint or lubricant than food. But I expect you have to eliminate all possibilities, like me. I am moving toward the next — Oh!”
Conway opened his mouth to ask what was happening but the Captain forestalled him.
“I switched on the lighting for this section and found two more casualties,” he reported. “One is a DCMH, one of the medium-sized ones, which was crushed by a buckled structural member and certainly dead. The other is the small, DCLG life-form, with one amputation wound, not moving. I’m fairly sure that it’s dead, too. This is the section of the ship which fell across the outcropping when she tipped over.
“The internal structure is badly deformed,” he went on, “with sprung deck and wall plating all over the place. There are also two large, wall-mounted cylinders which seem to have
been the reservoir for a hydraulic actuator system. Both have been ruptured and their connecting lines fractured, and there is a faint fog surrounding them as if some of the contents remains and is evaporating.
“Ahead the corridor is partly blocked by wreckage,” he continued. “I can move it but there will be a lot of noise, so don’t—”
“Captain,” Conway broke in. “Can you please bring us the DCLG and a sample of the hydraulic fluid with the other samples as soon as you can.” To Murchison he added, “I’d like to know if the lung damage is associated with that leakage. It would eliminate another possibility.”
Fletcher sounded irritated at having to break off his investigation of the ship. He said shortly, “They’ll be outside your hold entrance in ten minutes, Doctor.”
By the time Conway had retrieved the samples the Captain had already returned to the midships section, but once again his investigation was interrupted, this time by Lieutenant Dodds.
“The lander is ready to leave, sir,” the Astrogator said. There was a certain hesitancy in his voice as he went on, “I’m afraid there will be time for only one round trip before sunset, so would the Doctor and you decide which casualties should be lifted and which left there for retrieval tomorrow? With you three and Haslam on board just over half of the remaining casualties can be lifted, less if you bring up all portable equipment.”
“I’m not leaving unattended casualties down here,” Conway said firmly. “The drop in temperature and the sandstorms would probably finish them!”
“Maybe not,” Murchison said thoughtfully. “If we have to leave some of them, and it seems we’ve no choice, we could cover them with sand. They have a high body temperature, the sand is a good insulator, and they are already sealed up with a self-contained oxygen supply.”
“I’ve heard of doctors burying their mistakes,” Conway began dryly, but Dodds broke in again.
“Sorry, there is a problem there, Ma’am,” he said. “There 316 four large thorn patches moving toward the wreck. Slowly, af course, but we estimate their arrival just before midnight. According to my information the thorns are omnivorous and trap mobile prey by slowly encircling it, often at a distance, and allowing the animal to scratch itself on the thorns. These secrete a poison which is paralyzing or lethal, depending on the size of the prey and number of scratches. When the prey is immobilized the thorn clump inserts its roots and removes whatever nutrient material there is available.
“I don’t think your buried casualties,” he added grimly, “would survive till morning.”
Murchison swore in very unladylike fashion, and Conway said, “We could move them into the hold here and seal the hatch. We would need heaters and a medical monitor arid — I’m still not happy about leaving them unattended.”
“Obviously this is something which will have to be carefully considered, Doctor,” the Captain said. “Your casualties wilf not only have to be attended, they may have to be defended as well. Dodds, how long can you delay the launch?”
“Half an hour, sir,” the Astrogator said. “Then allowing another half hour for the trip and at least an hour on the surface to load up and make provision for the other casualties. If the lander does not leave in two and a half hours there will be serious problems with the wind and sand during take-off.”
“Very well,” Fletcher said. “We should reach a decision in half an hour. Hold the lander until then.”
But there was very little discussion and the decision was made, in spite of anything Murchison and Conway could say to the contrary, by the Captain. Fletcher stated that the two medics on Trugdil had done everything possible for the casualties and could do nothing further without the facilities of Rhabwar, except keep them under observation. The Captain insisted that he was capable of doing that, and of defending them in case they were attacked again.
He was sure that the criminal responsible for their injuries was not currently on the ship, but it might return to the shelter of the wreck when the cold and the sandstorms returned, or even to escape the advancing thorn clumps. He added that the proper place for all of the medical team was on Rhabwar where the casualties there could t?e given proper attention.
“Captain,” Conway said angrily, unable to refute his arguments, “in the medical area I have complete authority.”
“Then why don’t you exercise it responsibly, Doctor?” Fletcher replied.
“Captain,” Murchison broke in quickly, trying to head off an argument which could sour relations on the ambulance ship for weeks to come. “The DCLG specimen you found was not badly injured, compared with some of the others, but it was defunct, I’m afraid. Severe inflammation of the breathing passages and massive lung damage similar to the one you found in the hold. Both sets of lungs contained traces of the sample you took from the hydraulic reservoir. That is lethal stuff, Captain, so don’t open your visor anywhere near a leak.”
“Thank you, ma’am, I won’t,” Fletcher said calmly, and went on, “Dodds, you can see that the stretch of corridor ahead has been crushed almost flat. There is enough space for crew members to squeeze through, but I will have to cut away a lot of this jagged metal—”
Conway switched off his radio and touched his helmet against Murchison’s so that they could speak privately. He said furiously, “Whose side are you on?”
She grinned at him through her visor, but before she could reply Prilicla’s voice rustled timidly from the phones. The empath, too, was trying to calm a potentially unpleasant source of emotional radiation.
“Friend Conway,” it said, “while friend Fletcher’s arguments are valid, and I would personally welcome the presence of friend Murchison and yourself back on board, friend Naydrad and myself are coping adequately with the patients, all of whom are in a stable condition with the exception of three of the small DCLGs who are showing a slight reduction in body temperature.”
“Deepening shock, do you think?” Conway asked.
“No, friend Conway,” Prilicla replied. “There seems to be a slight improvement in their general condition.”
“Emotional radiation?”
“Nothing on the conscious level, friend Conway,” the empath replied, “but there are unconscious feelings of deprivation, and need.”
“They are all hungry,” Conway said dryly, “except one.”
“The thought of that one is abhorrent to me, too,” Prilicla said. “But to return to the condition of the patients: The lung damage and inflammation of the breathing passages noted by friend Murchison is repeated, to a much lesser degree of severity, in the other survivors, and the cause is correctly attributed to the damaged reservoir. But it is possible that operating in Trugdil conditions with the less sensitive portable equipment—”
“Prilicla,” Conway said impatiently, “what you mean is that we were too blind or stupid to spot an important medical: datum, but you are too nice a person to hurt our feelings. But intense impatience and curiosity can be unpleasant emotions, too, so just tell us what you discovered, Doctor.”
“I am sorry, friend Conway,” said the empath. “It is that the food passage as well as the breathing passage
