“Are you sure about that, Nurse?” Medalont broke in. “In the excitement could subjective factors have caused you to exaggerate? Six minutes is not a good response time.”
“Patient Hewlitt was not responding either,” said Leethveeschi, “and I was watching the clock while I worked. The ward clock is not subject to exaggeration.”
“The charge nurse is right,” said the Nidian medic with a side glance at its partner, “and so are you, Doctor. Normally it would be considered an inexcusably slow response time. But we had an accident on the way, a collision with a food delivery float whose servers moved clear when they saw our flashing lights but left their vehicle in the middle of the ward. There were no casualties-just a mess of other-species meals spread all over the ward floor and nearby beds.
“Patient Hewlitt,” the Kelgian doctor broke in, “chose an inconvenient time to arrest.”
“We had to spend a few minutes checking for equipment damage,” the Nidian doctor went on. “A jolt that would restart a Tralthan’s heart would cook an Earth-human’s in its own…
“Yes, yes,” said Medalont. “After six-plus minutes you revived the patient. What degree of mental or verbal confusion did you observe while it was returning to full consciousness?”
“No, and none,” the other replied. “We did not revive the patient; Charge Nurse Leethveeschi must have done that before we could attach the lines. The patient did not appear to be confused at all. Its first words were to tell the charge nurse to stop hitting it in the chest or it would damage its rib cage. Its words were coherent, well organized, and distinct, if not very respectful.”
“I’m sorry,” said the senior physician. “I had assumed your equipment brought the patient back. Well done, Charge Nurse. I hope the patient was not too disrespectful.”
“I have been called worse names,” said Leethveeschi, “and I was relieved rather than insulted by its response.
“Indeed, yes,” said Medalont. To the Kelgian it went on, “Continue, please.”
“When it was clear that Patient Hewlitt was fully conscious,” it replied, “we joined the charge nurse in asking it questions aimed at discovering whether or not there had been a loss of cerebration. We were still doing that when you returned to ask it more of the same questions. The rest you know.”
“Yes,” said the senior physician. “And after two hours of questioning there was no detectable memory or speech dysfunction or loss of physical coordination. Patient Hewlitt’s monitor registered optimum levels on all life signs, just as it is doing now.
“But now,” Leethveeschi said, with a wet, floppy gesture toward the ward clock, “it is four and a half minutes beyond the time that elapsed between the original blood withdrawal and the onset of the first cardiac episode.”
While the medics were talking, Hewlitt had been trying to think of a way of both apologizing to the charge nurse and thanking it for saving his life, but the meaning of what the loathsome creature had just said drove all thoughts of gratitude from his mind.
“What’s going on here?” he burst out. “Are you just standing around waiting for me to have another bloody heart attack? Or are you disappointed it didn’t happen?”
For a moment there was silence, and stillness except for the Hudlar nurse who moved a tentacle toward him and lowered it again. Then the Medalont said, “We are not disappointed, Patient Hewlitt, but otherwise your assessment of the situation is accurate. The first cardiac incident had to be caused by something, and there was a possibility, admittedly a very slim one, that my extraction of the blood specimen was responsible. Although you were not to receive any medication, I overlooked the fact that a trace quantity of local anesthetic is injected routinely prior to blood withdrawal so as to render the procedure pain-free. The timing and circumstances have now been reproduced, so far without results, which means that we must look elsewhere for the cause. Unless… Your facial skin coloration is darkening, Patient Hewlitt. How do you feel now?”
Ifeel like strangling you, he thought. Aloud, he said, “Fine, Doctor.”
“The monitor confirms,” said Leethveeschi.
“In that case,” said Medalont, looking at the others in turn, “you will maintain monitor surveillance, station the resuscitation team within a two-minute response distance, and allow the patient to compose itself before lunch. Never fear, Patient Hewlitt, we will find out and cure whatever it is that is troubling you. But for the present we will leave you alone.”
“Not entirely alone,” said Braithwaite. “I would like to have a few words with him.”
“As you wish, Lieutenant,” said the senior physician as it and the other two doctors withdrew. Leethveeschi and the Hudlar nurse held back.
“You are not to do anything that will disturb my patient,” said the Jllensan in its most authoritative charge-nurse voice. “Nor will you ask or say anything that is likely to precipitate another medical emergency.
Lieutenant Braithwaite looked from the irate chlorinebreather to the hulking, massively strong body of the Hudlar and back again. “Nurses,” he said, smiling, “I wouldn’t dare.”
When they were alone he sat down on the edge of Hewlitt’s bed and said, “I’m Braithwaite, Other-Species Psychology Department. It makes a nice change to talk to someone who has the right number of limbs and things.”
Hewlitt still felt like strangling or at least verbally assaulting someone, but this Braithwaite character had not said or done anything to make himself a candidate. Not yet. Instead he looked along the ward in the direction of the nurses’ station and the figure of Leethveeschi and ignored the psychologist.
“What are you thinking about?” Braithwaite said when the silence began to drag. He smiled and added, “Is that the kind of question you are expecting me to ask?”
“You didn’t call me Patient Hewlitt like the others,” he replied, turning to face the psychologist. “Was that intentional, or because you don’t think there is anything wrong with me so I’m not a real patient? Or did you forget my name?”
“You need not call me Lieutenant or Braithwaite,” said the other, and the silence returned.
Finally Hewlitt said, “All right, I’ll answer your question. I am thinking about that ghastly charge nurse, and wondering howl can say that I’m sorry for misjudging it and thank it for saving my life.”
Braithwaite nodded. “I’d say that you have the words about right, and all you have to do is say them to Leethveeschi rather than me.
For some reason Hewlitt was finding it difficult to maintain his anger toward this man. He said, “You are here to tell me, or to try to convince me, that my problems are all in my mind. This has happened to me many times, man and boy, so let’s not waste our time being friendly. Yes?”
“No,” said Braithwaite firmly. “I intend to waste time being friendly.”
The lieutenant changed his position on the side of the bed, moving so close that he had to support his weight with one arm stretched across Hewlitt’s thighs. Hewlitt could feel the other’s breath on his face as he said, “Do you mind me sitting here? Would you prefer me to move back, or stand?”