“Much stronger. I detect separate emotions again. Feelings of urgency, distress and fear — probably claustrophobic — approaching the point of panic.
Conway gave the patient a long, careful appraisal. There was no visible movement. Abruptly he said, “I can’t risk waiting any longer. It must be too weak to help itself. Screens, Nurse.”
The screens were meant only to exclude O’Mara. Had the psychologist seen what was to come without fully knowing what was going on he would doubtless have jumped to more wrong conclusions, probably to the extent of forcibly restraining Conway.
“Its distress is increasing,” Prilicla said suddenly. “There is no actual pain, but there are intense feelings of constriction …
Conway nodded. He motioned for a scalpel and began cutting into the growth, trying to establish its depth. It was now like soft, crumbling cork which offered little resistance to the knife. At a depth of eight inches he bared what looked like a grayish, oily and faintly iridescent membrane, but there was no rush of body fluid into the operative field. Conway heaved a sigh of relief, withdrew, then repeated the process in another area. This time the membrane revealed had a greenish tinge and was twitching slightly. He moved on again.
Apparently the average depth of the growth was eight inches. Working with furious ’speed Conway opened the covering growth in a total of nine places, spaced out at roughly equal intervals around the ring-like body, then he looked a question at Prilicla.
“Much worse now,” said the GLNO. “Extreme mental distress fear, feelings of… of strangulation. Pulse is up, and irregular-there is considerable strain on the heart. Also it is losing consciousness again …
Before the empath had finished speaking Conway was hacking away. With long, sawing, savage strokes he linked together the openings already made with deep, jagged incisions. Everything was sacrificed for speed. By no stretch of the imagination could what he was doing be called surgery, because a lumberjack with a blunt axe could have performed neater work.
Finished, he stood looking at the patient for three whole seconds, but there was still no sign of movement. Conway dropped the scalpel and began tearing at the growth with his hands.
Suddenly the voice of Skempton filled the ward, excitedly describing his landing on the alien colony and the opening of communications with them. He went on, “… And O’Mara, the sociological set-up is weird, I’ve never heard of anything like it, or them! There are two distinct life forms—”
“But belonging to the same species,” Conway put in loudly as he worked. The patient was showing definite signs of life and was beginning to help itself. He felt like yelling with sheer exultation, but instead he went on, “One form is the ten-legged type of our friend here, but without their tails sticking in their mouths. That is a transition-stage position only.
“The other form is … is …” Conway paused to give the being now revealed before him a searching, analytical stare. The remains of the growth which had covered it lay about the floor, some thrown there by Conway and the rest which it had shaken off itself. He continued, “Let’s see, oxygen-breathing, of course. Oviparous. Long, rod-like but flexible body possessing four insectile legs, manipulators, the usual sense organs, and three sets of wings. Classification GKNM. Visual aspect something like a dragonfly.
“I would say that the first form, judging by the crudely-developed appendages we noticed, performed most of the hard labor. Not until it passed the 'Chrysalis’ stage to become the more dexterous, and beautiful, dragonfly form would it be considered mature and capable of doing responsible work. This would, I suppose, make for a complicated society..
“I had been about to say,” Colonel Skempton broke in, his voice reflecting the chagrin of one whose thunder has just been stolen, “that a couple of the beings are on their way to take care of the survivor. They urge that nothing whatever be done to the patient …
At that point O’Mara pushed through the screen. He stood gaping at the patient who was now engaged in shaking out its wings, then with a visible effort pulled himself together. He said, “I suppose apologies are in order, Doctor. But why didn’t you tell someone …
“I had no clear proof that my theory was right,” Conway said seriously. “When the patient went into a panic several times when I suggested helping it, I suspected that the growth might be normal. A caterpillar could be expected to object to anyone trying to remove its chrysalis prematurely, for the good reason that such a course would kill it. And there were other pointers. The lack of food intake, the ring-like position with the appendages facing outward-obviously a defense mechanism from a time when natural enemies threatened the new being inside the slowly hardening shell of the old, and finally the fact that its expelled breath during the later stages showed no impurities, proving that the lungs and heart we were listening to had no longer a direct connection.
Conway went on to explain that in the early stages of the treatment he had been unsure of his theory, but still not doubtful enough in his mind to allow Mannon or Thornnastor to have their way. He had made the decision that the patient’s condition was normal, or fairly normal, and the best course would be to do absolutely nothing. Which was what he had done.
… But this is a hospital which believes in doing everything possible for a patient,” Conway went on, “and I can’t imagine Dr. Mannon, yourself or any of the other people I know just standing by and doing nothing while their patient was apparently dying on them. Maybe someone would have accepted my theory and agreed to act on it, but I couldn’t be sure. And we just had to cure this patient, because its friends at that time were rather an unknown quantity …
“All right, all right,” O’Mara broke in, holding up his hands. “You’re a genius, Doctor, or something. Now what?”
Conway rubbed his chin, then said thoughtfully, “We must remember that the patient was in a hospital ship, so there must have been something wrong with it in addition to its condition. It was too weak to break out of its own chrysalis and had to have help. Maybe this weakness was its only trouble. But if it was something else, Thornnastor and his crowd will be able to cure it now that we can communicate and get its cooperation.”
“Unless,” he said, suddenly worried, “our earlier and misguided attempts to reassure it have caused mental damage.” He switched on the Translator, chewed at his lips for a moment, then addressed the patient;
“How do you feel?”
The reply was short and to the point, but in it were contained all the implications which gladden a worried doctor’s heart.
“I’m hungry,” said the patient.
THE CLASSIFICATION SYSTEM
by Gary Louie
James White’s Sector General stories used a unique four letter classification system that helped describe the species quickly and effectivly, as one would require when the hospitol is a multi species enviroment. Gary Louie was working on a James White concordance. As part of that he completed a classification system, for the sector general series which covers all characters up to Final Diagnosis. This article appeared in the White Papers. Unfortunatly Gary Louie passed away, before the concordance was completed.
Planet: Unknown
Species: Crepellian Pet No Individual Names Known
A non-intelligent pet kept by AMSOs. It has six python-like ten-tacles which poke though seals in the cloudy plastic of its suit. The tentacles are each at least twenty feet long and tipped with a horny substance which must be steel-hard.
Planet: Unknown
Species: Name Unknown No Individual Names Known
A race whose remote ancestors were a species of mobile vegetable. They are slow moving, but the carbon dioxide tanks which they wear seem to be the only protection they need. AACPs do not eat in the normal manner but plant themselves in specially prepared soil during their sleep period, and absorb nutriment in that way.