“Yes, Earth-person Joan? said Kledenth, “please do it?”
He was beginning to realize that her hands, like the rest of her well-formed body, were really beautiful. Even when she was being subjected to the present severe emotional stress, they weren’t shaking a bit.
CHAPTER 24
O‘Mara sat as comfortably as it was possible to be in Sennelt’s Melfan chair, watching the tiny dream-stirrings of Kledenth’s fur as it slept off the anesthetic while he tried to calculate the exact amount of trouble he could expect. But of one thing he was sure:
the trouble would involve himself and nobody else.
Before Joan, at his insistence, had returned to her cabin to get some sleep before breakfast, which was only three hours away, they had come to an agreement about the operation. She had performed it, her technique had been flawless, and the prognosis was favorable, but so far as outsiders were concerned she had not even been there. It was O’Mara who had done all the work, would bear the entire responsibility for and take all the blame or, if there was any, the credit for what could be regarded as an irresponsible and unlawful surgical assault on a defenseless patient. The patient, who was incapable of telling a lie, had promised to exercise the Kelgian option of saying nothing at all to anyone about the incident.
No matter what happened to himself, O’Mara was pleased that the not so innocent bystander would not be involved even though he, personally, was beginning to wish that he could be closely involved with her. He sighed, checked the audible warning on the monitors they had attached to Kledenth, then wriggled into a less uncomfortable position on the Melfan chair and tried to sleep.
But the inside of his closed eyelids were slowly becoming a three-dimensional viewscreen displaying pictures of Joan. He watched again the delicate precision of her technique as she worked on Kledenth, and saw her as she pointed out the scenery and talked animatedly about the beauties of the Dunelton Gorge, and in formal dress at dinner. But mostly the pictures, bright and sharp and tactile, were of her teaching him to swim in the pool. Some of the things she was saying and doing were not as he remembered them, and as a psychologist he could recognize the beginning of a wishfulfillment dream when he saw one. But before it could end as all such dreams end, he was awakened by the steady clicking of Melfan feet moving along the corridor.
Sennelt entered and stopped as if surprised to see anyone there. Then it hurried across the room to the sleeping Kledenth and saw the dressing that was covering the operation site. It looked at O’Mara for a moment and used words that his translator refused to accept, then jabbed keys on the rooms communicator.
“Captain? it said urgently. “Medical emergency in sickbay. I need you here at once. Lieutenant O’Mara is involved. Bring security backup.”
Grulya-Mar arrived within three minutes, accompanied by two security officers who, like itself, were large, muscular, and unarmed Orligians. They watched O’Mara intently without moving or speaking, which wasn’t surprising because Dr. Sennelt was plying its scanner and doing all the talking and beginning to repeat itself.
As I said, sir? it went on without looking up from the scanner, “this could be a very serious, perhaps even a tragic situation. Lieutenant O’Mara, unlawfully and on its own initiative, has performed an operation on passenger Kledenth. I don’t know what exactly it has done or was trying to do, but the surgical procedure was invasive. My knowledge of Kelgian physiology is minimal, normally I only have to contend with other-species minor accidents and abrasions, but in this case serious and potentially lethal damage could have been done. A nonmedic performing surgery, even if it talked the passenger into giving its permission, doesn’t bear thinking about…”
“Your recommendations, Doctor?” the captain broke in.
Sennelt put down its scanner and said, “The patient should remain in deep sedation so as to reduce the body movements which might otherwise cause adverse postoperative effects. Continuous round-the-clock monitoring should be maintained until specialist treatment is available in an own-species hospital. That means, sir, in the best interests of passenger Kledenth you must divert to Kelgia with minimum delay.”
Grulya-Mar hesitated for less than three seconds before it moved quickly to the communicator. The screen lit up with the head and shoulders of a Nidian.
“Astrogation? it said.
“Recompute and lay in a course for Kelgia? said the captain. “Do it now. Off.”
Grulya-Mar turned then to join the others in staring silently at O’Mara, who stared back at them for as long as he could before breaking the silence.
“Sedation, massive rest, and specialist attention on its home planet,” he said quietly, “was all I wanted you to do for it in the first place. I’m pleased that Dr. Sennelt agrees with me.”
The medic didn’t respond. Its pincers were snapping open and closed while its entire body quivered as if it was about to have some kind of fit. O’Mara wondered what the lead-up to a cardiovascular incident would look like in an exoskeletal life-form whose face could never change color. He turned his attention to the two Orligian security officers and added, “Now what?”
Like Grulya-Mar, they were large, heavily built, and at least ten inches taller than he was. He knew that he could take one of them and almost certainly both, because space construction was a tough school and he had had barefisted disputes with members of their species many times. But if the captain joined in as well, all four of them would be sharing the sickbay with Kledenth.
A fight like that could never be concealed from the passengers or Grulya-Mar’s superiors. Their star-tour operation would suffer, and so would the professional futures of the officers concerned. Besides, when Major Craythorne got to hear about it he would certainly not be pleased. O’Mara wasn’t pleased at the thought himself, because he had hoped that the bad old days of gaining respect solely by the use of his fists were long gone. But he was feeling bad over the trouble he was in, and even though he and his mind partner had had no choice but to operate on Kledenth, he hoped these hairy heavies wouldn’t push him too far. Similar thoughts must have been going through Grulya-Mar’s mind.
“Since you cannot leave the ship? it said in a voice of quiet fury, “and even though your mental stability may be in question, I see no reason why you should be forcibly restrained. At the same time it is in both our interests that the Kledenth incident be kept from the other passengers until we reach Kelgia and the full extent of the damage you have done is assessed by their medical authorities, after which you will leave my ship to await the indicated legal proceedings and disciplinary measures that will be taken by your superiors. Until that time you will confine yourself to your cabin and make no further use of the recreation-deck facilities or dining room. Is this agreeable to you?”
“Yes? he said.
While the captain had been talking, the two security officers had been edging closer in the expectation of imminent violence. They relaxed visibly and backed away again, leaving him a clear path to the door.
“Please leave now,” said Grulya-Mar.
O’Mara nodded, but paused when he was halfway to the entrance.
“May I be allowed communicator contact with sickbay? he said, “so that I can check on the progress of the patient?”
The captain gave an untranslatable growl and the hair bristled all over its body, but it was Sennelt, who was plainly anxious to maintain the peace, who replied.