impossible, but with the large number of artificially created diseases that were released here, could one of them have evolved or mutated to the stage where it was able to cross the species barrier? Or let us suppose that Teltrenn, feeling angry and frightened and spiteful, launched a biological weapon against his formerly loyal and docile charges. There was a malfunction and the weapon did no harm except possibly to infect the Hewlitt child…
She was interrupted by the humming silence of a speaker that is active but not yet in use. There was the sound of an Earth-human throat being cleared followed by the voice of Captain Fletcher.
“Doctors,” he said, “I have completed the examination of your chemical weapon and I think you are all on the wrong track. The missile has many of the characteristics of a biological weapon, but our reconstruction of the course elements programmed into the guidance system, which was damaged by close proximity to a nuclear detonation, indicates that the original target was sixty miles northwest of here, which is a deserted, mountainous, and heavily wooded area that would not normally be settled for a very long time. Surely an odd place to target a biological weapon. As well, the missile is not a product of Etlan technology. It is a modified Federation device.
“There is more,” he went on, anticipating the questions they were about to ask. “The payload was enclosed in a thin-walled, plastic container that was strong enough to withstand the shock of a parachute landing, but not the impact and continuing pressure of a heavy object. Pathologist Murchison has already reported that the inner surface of the container fragments was coated with nutrient, and my investigation of the shape, size, and placement of the pieces indicates an impact by a large body, soft rather than hardedged like a rock or other solid debris, that is consistent with the mass of a small child falling from a tall tree and dropping onto it.”
They were all staring at the wall speaker in complete silence, and the only movement on the casualty deck came from Naydrad’s fur. Fletcher cleared his throat again and went on, “Another interesting datum is that the actuator mechanism that should have opened the payload container is a very precise atomic clock set for a little over one hundred years.”
Hewlitt did not understand the implications of everything the captain had been saying, but one thing was clear. After a lifetime of being treated in error as an overimaginative hypochondriac, it was impossible for him to keep quiet.
“Now you have to believe me,” he said, and laughed. “I don’t know why I’m laughing about it, but I did catch something here when I was a child and nobody would…
He broke off because Prilicla had dropped to the deck again, its wings and body trembling, and Murchison was directing accusing looks at everyone in turn. Hewlitt had already noticed that she often went into what Naydrad called maternal mode when someone’s unguarded emotional radiation was upsetting her superior.
“Whoever is responsible for this,” she burst out, “control your feelings, dammit!”
Prilicla’s trembling subsided, but not entirely. It said, “Calm yourself, friend Murchison, the loss of emotional control is my own. I was thinking about Lonvellin, and friend Hewlitt’s loose tooth, and feeling very, very stupid. But now, hopefully, I am recovering the use of my mind. Friend Fletcher.”
“Doctor,” said the captain.
“We must return to Sector General at once,” it went on. “Power Room, prepare to lift off as soon as the captain and Danalta are back on board. Communications, notify the hospital of the presence of a possible cross- species infection involving a wide range of nonspecific allergic reactions and originating with Patients Hewlitt and Morredeth, who are required for further clinical examination. Advise that all medical staff or patients who had physical contact with the named patients are to quarantine themselves in lightweight environmental-protection envelopes, which they will wear at all times when on duty or they themselves are under treatment. If minor injury or work-stress-related discomfort occurs among these staff members, such as headaches or muscular fatigue, they must not self-administer or be given sedative or painkilling medication. Patients under treatment are not to be given new medication of any type or in any form. Further instructions will follow when Patient Hewlitt’s test results are available.
“Dr. Stillman,” the empath went on, “while you were still on the way back from the ravine I prepared a tape for you, edited to remove the sections that were not relevant to the mission, of the Meeting of Diagnosticians which took place before we left the hospital. It will answer many of the questions we have been avoiding until now. Colonel Shech-Rar and yourself may take whatever action is appropriate in the light of this information. But as nobody else, to your knowledge, has displayed the nonspecific Hewlitt symptoms after a time lapse of twenty- odd years, the risk to you is small. For the present we have nothing more to do on Etla and must leave without delay.
“Friend Naydrad,” it continued. “We have a four-day hyperjump to Sector General. That should give us enough time for a fullscale clinical investigation and test of responses to the complete range of DBDG medication currently in use, including types already used on Patient Hewlitt but discontinued because of the allergic reactions. In case there is an emergency, set up for continuous levelthree monitoring…
“But I don’t understand,” said Stillman, raising his voice above the sounds of a ship preparing for imminent departure. “Lonvellin died. Its ship was vaporized with it inside before Hewlitt was even born.”
“Unless you wish to make an unscheduled visit to Sector General, friend Stillman,” said Prilicla as the sound of Fletcher and Danalta climbing the boarding ramp reached them, “you must leave the ship at once. There is no time to explain now, but I shall send copies of our findings to the colonel and yourself in due course. Please excuse my bad manners, thank you for your cooperation, and good-bye.”
Hewlitt waited until the Monitor Corps officer disappeared through the personnel lock, and then he said, “I don’t understand what the hell is going on, either. Why do you want to test me with medication you know has nearly killed me in the past?”
“Compose yourself, friend Hewlitt,” said Prilicla, beginning to tremble again. “I do not believe that you will be at serious risk. Please return to your bed and remain there until I give you permission to leave it. Your hush field will be maintained while we are discussing ideas and procedures that you might find unsettling.”
CHAPTER 22
Hewlitt kept his eyes on the flickering, grey noncolor of hyperspace outside the direct-vision panel and waited for something calamitous to happen to him. He did not look at any of the others, because they were watching him, waiting for the same thing to occur while smiling or otherwise trying to radiate encouragement. The amount of monitoring equipment surrounding him and the number of sensors taped to his body were not encouraging.
“You told me that I was to be given no medication of any kind,” Hewlitt said as Murchison touched another hyposprayer to his upper arm and the unfelt dose was administered. “Now you seem to be trying me on everything in stock. Why, dammit?”
The pathologist watched him closely for about three minutes, then said, “We changed our mind. How do you feel?”
“All right,” he replied. “No change except that I feel a little drowsy. How am I supposed to feel?”
“All right, and a little drowsy,” said Murchison, smiling. “It was a mild sedative I gave you. It should help you to relax.”
“When Senior Physician Medalont tried to give me a sedative,” said Hewlitt, “you know what happened.”
“Yes,” said Murchison. “But we have tested you with that particular medication, and a few others in minute quantities, without any sign of your customary hyperallergic reaction. I’m trying another, a new one that was not available to your planetside doctors. What do you feel, now?”
Hewlitt felt the downdraft from Prilicla’s wings against his face and chest as the little empath flew closer, but he knew that particular sensation was of no interest to the pathologist.
“Still nothing,” he replied, then, “No, wait. The whole area is going numb. What’s happening?”
“Nothing you need worry about,” said the pathologist, smiling again. “This time I’m testing a local anesthetic. According to the monitor your life signs are optimum. But are there any other symptoms, a mild itching of the skin, a general feeling of unease or any other symptoms, possibly subjective, which could be your subconscious giving an early warning of trouble to come?”
