He didn’t want to explain, because that would lead to telling her all about the mind-tape trials and virtually everything else about himself, but neither did he want to lie to her. He was saved from having to make the decision by Kledenth turning suddenly to rejoin the conversation.
“I thought I heard talking about me? it said. “Is it more interesting and important than the things these others are saying?”
“Probably not as interesting? O’Mara replied, slipping automatically into direct, Kelgian speech mode, “but certainly more important. Have you retold your adventure often enough, and heard enough praise and sympathy from your friends, to give us your undivided attention?”
Kledenth’s fur rose into irritated spikes, but Joan spoke before it could reply. Plainly she was happier with the more tactful and gentle approach.
“We were worried? she said, “in case you are not as well as Dr. Sennelt thinks you are. We think there may be aftereffects. To reassure us, the lieutenant wishes to ask you a few questions?”
“More than a few’ said O’Mara.
A new pattern of ripples disturbed Kledenth’s fur. It turned its attention from Joan and brought its small, cone-shaped head to within a few inches of O’Mara’s face and said, “Then ask them?
“Right? said O’Mara. “Your medial body and legs were pressed between the drowning Tralthan and the deck for a period of fourplus minutes before you were freed. Are you aware of any discomfort in these limbs, or from the muscles that operate them, or from the tegument overlaying those areas to which the fur is attached? Have you noticed any impairment of movement or lack of sensation in these limbs? Any feelings of surface pain, or tingling or any other unusual sensations from other parts of the body not directly affected by the temporary constriction? I realize that the recent nature of the incident and the associated emotional trauma means that there will be a psychological component in your relating of the symptoms. I shall make allowances for any emotional coloration, so be as objective or subjective as you wish. Speak.”
Joan was frowning again. “O’Mara, aren’t you being a little insensitive…?” she began, but Kledenth cut her off.
“I am aware of many aches and pains” it said. “They may be subjective but from inside they feel as objective as hell. The doctor didn’t ask as many questions as this. What’s wrong? You’re beginning to frighten me.
He could see that growing fear, or rather the memories and clinical experience of the top Kelgian surgeon in his mind enabled him to see and read it from the tight, uneven pattern of ripples that were agitating Kledenth’s fur.
“Fear” he said, “is a temporary condition which disappears when the cause and uncertainty associated with it is understood and removed. Your condition may or may not be temporary, that is what I’m trying to establish. What exactly did Sennelt say and, more important, do to you?”
“It said a lot,” the Kelgian replied, “mostly reassuring things and advice about taking it easy for a few days and not worrying. It went over me with one of those portable scanner things, then suspended me in null-G while it used a hot-air fan to dry my fur. It made me walk around sickbay and watched until I told it I felt hungry, then it brought me here. What else did you expect it to do?”
O’Mara paused for a moment, thinking about the limited facilities and, comparatively, nonspecialized and even more limited experience of a ship’s medic who was expected to know only a very little about everything. Sennelt was a good enough doctor, but Kreskhallar wasn’t Sector General.
“In the circumstances.” O’Mara replied, “nothing else. Before or during the drying of your fur did Sennelt spray it with any surface medication, conditioner, or similar substance?”
“No” said Kledenth. “I wouldn’t allow it. My fur needs no such enhancements.”
“I can see that.” said O’Mara. “It is remarkably beautiful and expressive fur. But when you arrived with Sennelt and during the initial conversation with your friends, I noticed a slowing in its overall mobility compared to my earlier observations of you. The fur’s reduced response time to vocal and emotional stimuli is minor and could be due simply to delayed shock or associated psychological factors stemming from your accident, but I’m not entirely satisfied with Sennelt’s prognosis and I intend—”
“You think there’s something wrong with my fur!” Kledenth broke in, its fur standing out in spikes of fear and anger. “But, but what do you know, you’re only a bloody policeman! And if you happen to be right, what can you do about it? O’Mara, you shouldn’t frighten me with talk like this.”
Everyone else at the table had stopped talking to watch, and the fur on the other Kelgian diners was twitching in sympathy with Kledenth’s distress. Even Joan, who was unable to read fur, had sensed Kledenth’s feelings and was staring furiously at him. O’Mara raised a hand quickly before she could speak, knowing that she would consider the gesture ill-mannered, but he needed a moment to regain control. For the past few minutes his mind partner had almost taken over.
He knew that the feeling was purely subjective because the mind tape impressed only the donor’s memories. But those memories had included personal experience with dysfunctional fur that it would not have wanted any other member of its species to share. But now it was time to stop thinking and talking like a Kelgian and to say some kindly, reassuring Earth-human words to the badly frightened Kledenth, even though he knew that the reassurance he would give would be less than honest.
“Right now I don’t know what I can do for you.” said O’Mara, “but I promise to do something. In a short time Joan and I will be talking to the captain, who considers that it owes us a favor. I shall ask it for a long consultation with Dr. Sennelt, during which I shall ask for answers to the questions that are troubling us both. It is possible that my worries are without foundation and the doctor will be able to set my mind at rest when, naturally, I shall pass the good news to you without delay. But until then try not to worry because there may not be anything to worry about ~
Kledenth said a word that their translators had not been programmed to handle and its fur began to settle into normal levels of mobility. But before it could go on, the other Kelgians at the table began asking it more questions about what might be wrong and it was suddenly too busy to talk to him. Joan was still looking unfriendly rather than angry. She didn’t speak to him either until they were in the corridor on the way to their appointment with the captain. It was probably subjective, he thought, but it felt as if the airconditioning temperature had been reduced by quite a few degrees.
She said, “You were unnecessarily rough on Kledenth, especially for someone who might not know what he’s talking about. Earlier you told me that you weren’t a medic. But you weren’t talking first aid back there. Is there something you’re keeping to yourself, and are you going to tell me about it?”
“No” said O’Mara.
“Then all I can say” she said coldly, “is that if you were a doctor, or maybe a medical student who couldn’t pass the finals, then they certainly failed you on your bedside manner?
CHAPTER 23
The invitation to visit Kreskhallar’s control deck was a courtesy rarely extended to mere passengers, because it was there that the shipboard god, who was also known to lesser mortals as Captain Grulya-Mar, dwelt and had its august being. For a great, hairy, and bearlike Orligian, it was gracious, unsparing in its compliments and thanks, pompous and condescending. The condescension was probably due to its thinking that this was their first time to see a starship’s control deck, but it didn’t stop talking long enough for O’Mara to tell it that it was only half right.