<h2><SPAN name="chapter7" id="chapter7"></SPAN>CHAPTER 7</h2>
<h3>ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS</h3>
<p>Once more the crew of the <i>Lancet</i> settled down to
routine, and the incident on Morua VIII seemed almost
forgotten.</p>
<p>But a change had come about in the relations between the
three doctors, and in every way the change was for the
better. If Jack Alvarez was not exactly cordial to Dal Timgar,
at least he had dropped the open antagonism that he had
shown before. Apparently Tiger's angry outburst had
startled Jack, as though he had never really considered that
the big Earthman might honestly be attached to his friend
from Garv II, and the Blue Doctor seemed sincere in his
agreement to work with Dal and Tiger as a team.</p>
<p>But bit by bit Dal could sense that the change in Jack's
attitude went deeper than the surface. "You know, I really
think he was <i>scared</i> of me," Dal said one night when he and
Tiger were alone. "Sounds silly, but I think it's true. He
pretends to be so sure of himself, but I think he's as worried
about doing things wrong as we are, and just won't admit it.<SPAN name="page79" id="page79"></SPAN>
And he really thought I was a threat when I came aboard."</p>
<p>"He probably had a good thorough briefing from Black
Doctor Tanner before he got the assignment," Tiger said
grimly.</p>
<p>"Maybe—but somehow I don't think he cares for the
Black Doctor much more than we do."</p>
<p>But whatever the reason, much of the tension was gone
when the <i>Lancet</i> had left the Moruan system behind. A great
weight seemed to have been lifted, and if there was not quite
peace on board, at least there was an uneasy truce. Tiger
and Jack were almost friendly, talking together more often
and getting to know each other better. Jack still avoided
Dal and seldom included him in conversations, but the open
contempt of the first few weeks on the ship now seemed
tempered somewhat.</p>
<p>Once again the <i>Lancet</i>'s calls fell into a pattern. Landings
on the outpost planets became routine, bright spots in a
lonely and wandering existence. The calls that came in represented
few real problems. The ship stopped at one contract
planet to organize a mass inoculation program against a
parasitic infestation resembling malaria. They paused at
another place to teach the native doctors the use of some
new surgical instruments that had been developed in Hospital
Earth laboratories just for them. Frantic emergency
calls usually proved to involve trivial problems, but once
or twice potentially serious situations were spotted early,
before they could develop into real trouble.</p>
<p>And as the three doctors got used to the responsibilities
of a patrol ship's rounds, and grew more confident of their
ability to handle the problems thrust upon them, they found
themselves working more and more efficiently as a team.</p>
<p>This was the way the General Practice Patrol was supposed
to function. Each doctor had unsuspected skills that<SPAN name="page80" id="page80"></SPAN>
came to light. There was no questioning Jack Alvarez's skill
as a diagnostician, but it seemed uncanny to Dal the way the
slender, dark-haired Earthman could listen carefully to a
medical problem of an alien race on a remote planet, and
then seem to know exactly which questions to ask to draw
out the significant information about the situation. Tiger
was not nearly as quick and clever as Jack; he needed more
time to ponder a question of medical treatment, and he
would often spend long hours poring over the data tapes
before deciding what to do in a given case—but he always
seemed to come up with an answer, and his answers usually
worked. Above all, Tiger's relations with the odd life-forms
they encountered were invariably good; the creatures seemed
to like him, and would follow his instructions faithfully.</p>
<p>Dal, too, had opportunities to demonstrate that his surgical
skill and judgment was not universally faulty in spite
of the trouble on Morua VIII. More than once he succeeded
in almost impossible surgical cases where there was no time
to call for help, and little by little he could sense Jack's
growing confidence in his abilities, grudging though it
might be.</p>
<p>Dal had ample time to mull over the thing that had happened
on Morua VIII and to think about the interview with
Black Doctor Tanner afterward. He knew he was glad that
Tiger had intervened even on the basis of a falsehood; until
Tiger had spoken up Dal had been certain that the Black
Doctor fully intended to use the incident as an excuse to
discharge him from the General Practice Patrol. There was
no question in his mind that the Black Doctor's charges had
been exaggerated into a trumped-up case against him, and
there was no question that Tiger's insistence on taking the
blame had saved him; he could not help being thankful.</p>
<p>Yet there was something about it that disturbed Dal, nibbling<SPAN name="page81" id="page81"></SPAN>
away persistently at his mind. He couldn't throw off
the feeling that his own acceptance of Tiger's help had been
wrong.</p>
<p>Part of it, he knew, was his native, inbred loathing for
falsehood. Fair or unfair, Dal had always disliked lying.
Among his people, the truth might be bent occasionally, but
frank lying was considered a deep disgrace, and there was a
Garvian saying that "a false tongue wins no true friends."
Garvian traders were known throughout the Galaxy as
much for their rigid adherence to their word as they were
for the hard bargains they could drive; Dal had been enormously
confused during his first months on Hospital Earth
by the way Earthmen seemed to accept lying as part of their
daily life, unconcerned about it as long as the falsehood
could not be proven.</p>
<p>But something else about Tiger's defense of him bothered
Dal far more than the falsehood—something that had vaguely
disturbed him ever since he had known the big Earthman,
and that now seemed to elude him every time he tried to
pinpoint it. Lying in his bunk during a sleep period, Dal
remembered vividly the first time he had met Tiger, early
in the second year of medical school. Dal had almost despaired
by then of making friends with his hostile and
resentful classmates and had begun more and more to avoid
contact with them, building up a protective shell and relying
on Fuzzy for company or comfort. Then Tiger had found
him eating lunch by himself in the medical school lounge
one day and flopped down in the seat beside him and began
talking as if Dal were just another classmate. Tiger's open
friendliness had been like a spring breeze to Dal who was
desperately lonely in this world of strangers; their friendship
had grown rapidly, and gradually others in the class had
begun to thaw enough at least to be civil when Dal was<SPAN name="page82" id="page82"></SPAN>
around. Dal had sensed that this change of heart was largely
because of Tiger and not because of him, yet he had welcomed
it as a change from the previous intolerable coldness
even though it left him feeling vaguely uneasy. Tiger was
well liked by the others in the class; Dal had been grateful
more than once when Tiger had risen in hot defense of the
Garvian's right to be studying medicine among Earthmen
in the school on Hospital Earth.</p>
<p>But that had been in medical school, among classmates.
Somehow that had been different from the incident that
occurred on Morua VIII, and Dal's uneasiness grew stronger
than ever the more he thought of it. Talking to Tiger about
it was no help; Tiger just grinned and told him to forget it,
but even in the rush of shipboard activity it stubbornly
refused to be forgotten.</p>
<p>One minor matter also helped to ease the tension between
the doctors as they made their daily rounds. Tiger brought
a pink dispatch sheet in to Dal one day, grinning happily.
"This is from the weekly news capsule," he said. "It ought
to cheer you up."</p>
<p>It was a brief news note, listed under "incidental items."
"The Black Service of Pathology," it said, "has announced
that Black Doctor Hugo Tanner will enter Hospital Philadelphia
within the next week for prophylactic heart surgery.
In keeping with usual Hospital Earth administrative policy,
the Four-star Black Doctor will undergo a total cardiac
transplant to halt the Medical education administrator's progressively
disabling heart disease." The note went on to
name the surgeons who would officiate at the procedure.</p>
<p>Dal smiled and handed back the dispatch. "Maybe it will
improve his temper," he said, "even if it does give him another
fifty years of active life."</p>
<p>"Well, at least it will take him out of <i>our</i> hair for a while,"<SPAN name="page83" id="page83"></SPAN>
Tiger said. "He won't have time to keep us under too close
scrutiny."</p>
<p>Which, Dal was forced to admit, did not make him too
unhappy.</p>
<p>Shipboard rounds kept all three doctors busy. Often, with
contact landings, calls, and studying, it seemed only a brief
time from sleep period to sleep period, but still they had
some time for minor luxuries. Dal was almost continuously
shivering, with the ship kept at a temperature that was comfortable
for Tiger and Jack; he missed the tropical heat of
his home planet, and sometimes it seemed that he was chilled
down to the marrow of his bones in spite of his coat of gray
fur. With a little home-made plumbing and ingenuity, he
finally managed to convert one of the ship's shower units
into a steam bath. Once or twice each day he would retire
for a blissful half hour warming himself up to Garv II
normal temperatures.</p>
<p>Fuzzy also became a part of shipboard routine. Once he
grew accustomed to Tiger and Jack and the surroundings
aboard the ship, the little creature grew bored sitting on
Dal's shoulder and wanted to be in the middle of things.
Since the early tension had eased, he was willing to be apart
from his master from time to time, so Dal and Tiger built
him a platform that hung from the ceiling of the control
room. There Fuzzy would sit and swing by the hour, blinking
happily at the activity going on all around him.</p>
<p>But for all the appearance of peace and agreement, there
was still an undercurrent of tension on board the <i>Lancet</i>
which flared up from time to time when it was least expected,
between Dal and Jack. It was on one such occasion that a
major crisis almost developed, and once again Fuzzy was the
center of the contention.<SPAN name="page84" id="page84"></SPAN></p>
<p>Dal Timgar knew that disaster had struck at the very
moment it happened, but he could not tell exactly what was
wrong. All he knew was that something fearful had happened
to Fuzzy.</p>
<p>There was a small sound-proof cubicle in the computer
room, with a chair, desk and a tape-reader for the doctors
when they had odd moments to spend reading up on recent
medical bulletins or reviewing their textbooks. Dal spent
more time here than the other two; the temperature of the
room could be turned up, and he had developed a certain
fondness for the place with its warm gray walls and its soft
relaxing light. Here on the tapes were things that he could
grapple with, things that he could understand. If a problem
here eluded him, he could study it out until he had mastered
it. The hours he spent here were a welcome retreat from the
confusing complexities of getting along with Jack and Tiger.</p>
<p>These long study periods were boring for Fuzzy who
wasn't much interested in the oxygen-exchange mechanism
of the intelligent beetles of Aldebaran VI. Frequently Dal
would leave him to swing on his platform or explore about
the control cabin while he spent an hour or two at the
tape-reader. Today Dal had been working for over an hour,
deeply immersed in a review of the intermediary metabolism
of chlorine-breathing mammals, when something abruptly
wrenched his attention from the tape.</p>
<p>It was as though a light had snapped off in his mind, or
a door slammed shut. There was no sound, no warning; yet,
suddenly, he felt dreadfully, frighteningly alone, as if in a
split second something inside him had been torn away. He
sat bolt upright, staring, and he felt his skin crawl and his
fingers tremble as he listened, trying to spot the source of
the trouble.</p>
<p>And then, almost instinctively, he knew what was wrong.<SPAN name="page85" id="page85"></SPAN>
He leaped to his feet, tore open the door to the cubicle and
dashed down the hallway toward the control room. "Fuzzy!"
he shouted. "Fuzzy, <i>where are you</i>?"</p>
<p>Tiger and Jack were both at the control panel dictating
records for filing. They looked up in surprise as the Red
Doctor burst into the room. Fuzzy's platform was hanging
empty, gently swaying back and forth. Dal peered frantically
around the room. There was no sign of the small pink
creature.</p>
<p>"Where is he?" he demanded. "What's happened to
Fuzzy?"</p>
<p>Jack shrugged in disgust. "He's up on his perch. Where
else?"</p>
<p>"He's not either! Where is he?"</p>
<p>Jack blinked at the empty perch. "He was there just a
minute ago. I saw him."</p>
<p>"Well, he's not there now, and something's wrong!" In a
panic, Dal began searching the room, knocking over stools,
scattering piles of paper, peering in every corner where
Fuzzy might be concealed.</p>
<p>For a moment the others sat frozen, watching him. Then
Tiger jumped to his feet. "Hold it, hold it! He probably
just wandered off for a minute. He does that all the time."</p>
<p>"No, it's something worse than that." Dal was almost
choking on the words. "Something terrible has happened.
I know it."</p>
<p>Jack Alvarez tossed the recorder down in disgust. "You
and your miserable pet!" he said. "I knew we shouldn't have
kept him on board."</p>
<p>Dal stared at Jack. Suddenly all the anger and bitterness
of the past few weeks could no longer be held in. Without
warning he hurled himself at the Blue Doctor's throat.
"Where is he?" he cried. "What have you done with him?<SPAN name="page86" id="page86"></SPAN>
What have you done to Fuzzy? You've done something to
him! You've hated him every minute just like you hate me,
only he's easier to pick on. Now where is he? What have
you done to him?"</p>
<p>Jack staggered back, trying to push the furious little
Garvian away. "Wait a minute! Get away from me! I didn't
do anything!"</p>
<p>"You did too! Where is he?"</p>
<p>"I don't know." Jack struggled to break free, but there
was powerful strength in Dal's fingers for all his slight body
build. "I tell you, he was here just a minute ago."</p>
<p>Dal felt a hand grip his collar then, and Tiger was dragging
them apart like two dogs in a fight. "Now stop this!"
he roared, holding them both at arm's length. "I said <i>stop it</i>!
Jack didn't do anything to Fuzzy, he's been sitting here
with me ever since you went back to the cubicle. He hasn't
even budged."</p>
<p>"But he's <i>gone</i>," Dal panted. "Something's happened to
him. I <i>know</i> it."</p>
<p>"How do you know?"</p>
<p>"I—I just know. I can feel it."</p>
<p>"All right, then let's find him," Tiger said. "He's got to
be somewhere on the ship. If he's in trouble, we're wasting
time fighting."</p>
<p>Tiger let go, and Jack brushed off his shirt, his face very
white. "I saw him just a little while ago," he said. "He was
sitting up on that silly perch watching us, and then swinging
back and forth and swinging over to that cabinet and back."</p>
<p>"Well, let's get started looking," Tiger said.</p>
<p>They fanned out, with Jack still muttering to himself,
and searched the control room inch by inch. There was no
sign of Fuzzy. Dal had control of himself now, but he<SPAN name="page87" id="page87"></SPAN>
searched with a frantic intensity. "He's not in here," he said
at last, "he must have gone out somewhere."</p>
<p>"There was only one door open," Tiger said. "The one
you just came through, from the rear corridor. Dal, you
search the computer room. Jack, check the lab and I'll go
back to the reactors."</p>
<p>They started searching the compartments off the rear
corridor. For ten minutes there was no sound in the ship but
the occasional slamming of a hatch, the grate of a desk
drawer, the bang of a cabinet door. Dal worked through the
maze of cubby-holes in the computer room with growing
hopelessness. The frightening sense of loneliness and loss
in his mind was overwhelming; he was almost physically
ill. The warm, comfortable feeling of <i>contact</i> that he had
always had before with Fuzzy was gone. As the minutes
passed, hopelessness gave way to despair.</p>
<p>Then Jack gave a hoarse cry from the lab. Dal tripped
and stumbled in his haste to get down the corridor, and
almost collided with Tiger at the lab door.</p>
<p>"I think we're too late," Jack said. "He's gotten into the
formalin."</p>
<p>He lifted one of the glass beakers down from the shelf
to the work bench. It was obvious what had happened. Fuzzy
had gone exploring and had found the laboratory a fascinating
place. Several of the reagents bottles had been knocked
over as if he had been sampling them. The glass lid to the
beaker of formalin which was kept for tissue specimens had
been pushed aside just enough to admit the little creature's
two-inch girth. Now Fuzzy lay in the bottom of the beaker,
immersed in formalin, a formless, shapeless blob of sickly
gray jelly.</p>
<p>"Are you sure it's formalin?" Dal asked.</p>
<p>Jack poured off the fluid, and the acrid smell of formaldehyde<SPAN name="page88" id="page88"></SPAN>
that filled the room answered the question. "It's no
good, Dal," he said, almost gently. "The stuff destroys protein,
and that's about all he was. I'm sorry—I was beginning
to like the little punk, even if he did get on my nerves. But
he picked the one thing to fall into that could kill him.
Unless he had some way to set up a protective barrier...."</p>
<p>Dal took the beaker. "Get me some saline," he said tightly.
"And some nutrient broth."</p>
<p>Jack pulled out two jugs and poured their contents into
an empty beaker. Dal popped the tiny limp form into the
beaker and began massaging it. Layers of damaged tissue
peeled off in his hand, but he continued massaging and
changing the solutions, first saline, then nutrient broth.
"Get me some sponges and a blade."</p>
<p>Tiger brought them in. Carefully Dal began debriding
the damaged outer layers. Jack and Tiger watched; then
Jack said, "Look, there's a tinge of pink in the middle."</p>
<p>Slowly the faint pink in the center grew more ruddy.
Dal changed solutions again, and sank down on a stool. "I
think he'll make it," he said. "He has enormous regenerative
powers as long as any fragment of him is left." He looked
up at Jack who was still watching the creature in the beaker
almost solicitously. "I guess I made a fool of myself back
there when I jumped you."</p>
<p>Jack's face hardened, as though he had been caught off
guard. "I guess you did, all right."</p>
<p>"Well, I'm sorry. I just couldn't think straight. It was
the first time I'd ever been—apart from him."</p>
<p>"I still say he doesn't belong aboard," Jack said. "This
is a medical ship, not a menagerie. And if you ever lay your
hands on me again, you'll wish you hadn't."</p>
<p>"I said I was sorry," Dal said.<SPAN name="page89" id="page89"></SPAN></p>
<p>"I heard you," Jack said. "I just don't believe you, that's
all."</p>
<p>He gave Fuzzy a final glance, and then headed back to
the control room.</p>
<hr class="shorter" />
<p>Fuzzy recovered, a much abashed and subdued Fuzzy,
clinging timorously to Dal's shoulder and refusing to budge
for three days, but apparently basically unharmed by his
inadvertent swim in the deadly formalin bath. Presently he
seemed to forget the experience altogether, and once again
took his perch on the platform in the control room.</p>
<p>But Dal did not forget. He said little to Tiger and Jack,
but the incident had shaken him severely. For as long as
he could remember, he had always had Fuzzy close at hand.
He had never before in his life experienced the dreadful
feeling of emptiness and desertion, the almost paralyzing
fear and helplessness that he had felt when Fuzzy had lost
contact with him. It had seemed as though a vital part of
him had suddenly been torn away, and the memory of the
panic that followed sent chills down his back and woke him
up trembling from his sleep. He was ashamed of his unwarranted
attack on Jack, yet even this seemed insignificant in
comparison to the powerful fear that had been driving him.</p>
<p>Happily, the Blue Doctor chose to let the matter rest
where it was, and if anything, seemed more willing than
before to be friendly. For the first time he seemed to take
an active interest in Fuzzy, "chatting" with him when he
thought no one was around, and bringing him occasional
tid-bits of food after meals were over.</p>
<p>Once more life on the <i>Lancet</i> settled back to routine, only
to have it shattered by an incident of quite a different nature.
It was just after they had left a small planet in the Procyon
system, one of the routine check-in points, that they made
contact with the Garvian trading ship.<SPAN name="page90" id="page90"></SPAN></p>
<p>Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before
the signals came in, and could hardly contain his excitement.
He had not seen a fellow countryman for years except for
an occasional dull luncheon with the Garvian ambassador
to Hospital Earth during medical school days. The thought
of walking the corridors of a Garvian trading ship again
brought an overwhelming wave of homesickness. He was so
excited he could hardly wait for Jack to complete the radio-sighting
formalities. "What ship is she?" he wanted to know.
"What house?"</p>
<p>Jack handed him the message transcript. "The ship is the
<i>Teegar</i>," he said. "Flagship of the SinSin trading fleet. They
want permission to approach us."</p>
<p>Dal let out a whoop. "Then it's a space trader, and a big
one. You've never seen ships like these before."</p>
<p>Tiger joined them, staring at the message transcript. "A
SinSin ship! Send them the word, Jack, and be quick, before
they get disgusted and move on."</p>
<p>Jack sent out the approach authorization, and they
watched with growing excitement as the great trading vessel
began its close-approach maneuvers.</p>
<p>The name of the house of SinSin was famous throughout
the galaxy. It was one of the oldest and largest of the great
trading firms that had built Garv II into its position of leadership
in the Confederation, and the SinSin ships had penetrated
to every corner of the galaxy, to every known planet
harboring an intelligent life-form.</p>
<p>Tiger and Jack had seen the multitudes of exotic products
in the Hospital Earth stores that came from the great Garvian
ships on their frequent visits. But this was more than a
planetary trader loaded with a few items for a single planet.
The space traders roamed from star system to star system,
their holds filled with treasures beyond number. Such ships<SPAN name="page91" id="page91"></SPAN>
as these might be out from Garv II for decades at a time,
tempting any ship they met with the magnificent variety of
wares they carried.</p>
<p>Slowly the trader approached, and Dal took the speaker,
addressing the commander of the <i>Teegar</i> in Garvian. "This
is the General Practice Patrol Ship <i>Lancet</i>," he said, "out
from Hospital Earth with three physicians aboard, including
a countryman of yours."</p>
<p>"Is that Dal Timgar?" the reply came back. "By the
Seven Moons! We'd heard that there was now a Garvian
physician, and couldn't believe our ears. Come aboard, all
of you, you'll be welcome. We'll send over a lifeboat!"</p>
<p>The <i>Teegar</i> was near now, a great gleaming ship with the
sign of the house of SinSin on her hull. A lifeboat sprang
from a launching rack and speared across to the <i>Lancet</i>.
Moments later the three doctors were climbing into the
sleek little vessel and moving across the void of space to the
huge Garvian ship.</p>
<p>It was like stepping from a jungle outpost village into
a magnificent, glittering city. The Garvian ship was enormous;
she carried a crew of several hundred, and the wealth
and luxury of the ship took the Earthmen's breath away.
The cabins and lounges were paneled with expensive fabrics
and rare woods, the furniture inlaid with precious metals.
Down the long corridors goods of the traders were laid out
in resplendent display, surpassing the richest show cases in
the shops on Hospital Earth.</p>
<p>They received a royal welcome from the commander of
the <i>Teegar</i>, an aged, smiling little Garvian with a pink fuzz-ball
on his shoulder that could have been Fuzzy's twin. He
bowed low to Tiger and Jack, leading them into the reception
lounge where a great table was spread with foods and
pastries of all varieties. Then he turned to Dal and embraced<SPAN name="page92" id="page92"></SPAN>
him like a long-lost brother. "Your father Jai Timgar has
long been an honored friend of the house of SinSin, and
anyone of the house of Timgar is the same as my own son
and my son's son! But this collar! This cuff! Is it really
possible that a man of Garv has become a physician of
Hospital Earth?"</p>
<p>Dal touched Fuzzy to the commander's fuzz-ball in the
ancient Garvian greeting. "It's possible, and true," he said.
"I studied there. I am the Red Doctor on this patrol ship."</p>
<p>"Ah, but this is good," the commander said. "What better
way to draw our worlds together, eh? But come, you must
look and see what we have in our storerooms, feast your
eyes on the splendors we carry. For all of you, a thousand
wonders are to be found here."</p>
<p>Jack hesitated as the commander led them back toward
the display corridors. "We'd be glad to see the ship, but you
should know that patrol ship physicians have little money
to spend."</p>
<p>"Who speaks of money?" the commander cried. "Did I
speak of it? Come and look! Money is nothing. The Garvian
traders are not mere money-changers. Look and enjoy; if
there is something that strikes your eye, something that
would fulfill the desires of your heart, it will be yours."
He gave Dal a smile and a sly wink. "Surely our brother here
has told you many times of the wonders to be seen in a
space trader, and terms can be arranged that will make any
small purchase a painless pleasure."</p>
<p>He led them off, like a head of state conducting visiting
dignitaries on a tour, with a retinue of Garvian underlings
trailing behind them. For two delirious hours they wandered
the corridors of the great ship, staring hungrily at the dazzling
displays. They had been away from Hospital Earth
and its shops and stores for months; now it seemed they were<SPAN name="page93" id="page93"></SPAN>
walking through an incredible treasure-trove stocked with
everything that they could possibly have wanted.</p>
<p>For Jack there was a dress uniform, specially tailored for
a physician in the Blue Service of Diagnosis, the insignia
woven into the cloth with gold and platinum thread. Reluctantly
he turned away from it, a luxury he could never
dream of affording. For Tiger, who had been muttering for
weeks about getting out of condition in the sedentary life
of the ship, there was a set of bar bells and gymnasium equipment
ingeniously designed to collapse into a unit no larger
than one foot square, yet opening out into a completely
equipped gym. Dal's eyes glittered at the new sets of surgical
instruments, designed to the most rigid Hospital Earth specifications,
which appeared almost without his asking to see
them. There were clothes and games, precious stones and
exotic rings, watches set with Arcturian dream-stones, and
boots inlaid with silver.</p>
<p>They made their way through the corridors, reluctant to
leave one display for the next. Whenever something caught
their eyes, the commander snapped his fingers excitedly,
and the item was unobtrusively noted down by one of the
underlings. Finally, exhausted and glutted just from looking,
they turned back toward the reception room.</p>
<p>"The things are beautiful," Tiger said wistfully, "but
impossible. Still, you were very kind to take your time—"</p>
<p>"Time? I have nothing but time." The commander smiled
again at Dal. "And there is an old Garvian proverb that to the
wise man 'impossible' has no meaning. Wait, you will see!"</p>
<p>They came out into the lounge, and the doctors stopped
short in amazement. Spread out before them were all of the
items that had captured their interest earlier.</p>
<p>"But this is ridiculous," Jack said staring at the dress<SPAN name="page94" id="page94"></SPAN>
uniform. "We couldn't possibly buy these things, it would
take our salaries for twenty years to pay for them."</p>
<p>"Have we mentioned price even once?" the commander
protested. "You are the crewmates of one of our own people!
We would not dream of setting prices that we would normally
set for such trifles as these. And as for terms, you have
no worry. Take the goods aboard your ship, they are already
yours. We have drawn up contracts for you which require
no payment whatever for five years, and then payments of
only a fiftieth of the value for each successive year. And for
each of you, with the compliments of the house of SinSin,
a special gift at no charge whatever."</p>
<p>He placed in Jack's hands a small box with the lid tipped
back. Against a black velvet lining lay a silver star, and the
official insignia of a Star Physician in the Blue Service. "You
cannot wear it yet, of course," the commander said. "But
one day you will need it."</p>
<p>Jack blinked at the jewel-like star. "You are very kind,"
he said. "I—I mean perhaps—" He looked at Tiger, and then
at the display of goods on the table. "Perhaps there are <i>some</i>
things—"</p>
<p>Already two of the Garvian crewmen were opening the
lock to the lifeboat, preparing to move the goods aboard.
Then Dal Timgar spoke up sharply. "I think you'd better
wait a moment," he said.</p>
<p>"And for you," the commander continued, turning to Dal
so smoothly that there seemed no break in his voice at all,
"as one of our own people, and an honored son of Jai Timgar,
who has been kind to the house of SinSin for many years,
I have something out of the ordinary. I'm sure your crewmates
would not object to a special gift at my personal
expense."</p>
<p>The commander lifted a scarf from the table and revealed<SPAN name="page95" id="page95"></SPAN>
the glittering set of surgical instruments, neatly displayed in
a velvet-lined carrying case. The commander took it up
from the table and thrust it into Dal's hands. "It is yours,
my friend. And for this, there will be no contract whatever."</p>
<p>Dal stared down at the instruments. They were beautiful.
He longed just to touch them, to hold them in his hands,
but he shook his head and set the case back on the table.
He looked up at Tiger and Jack. "You should be warned
that the prices on these goods are four times what they
ought to be, and the deferred-payment contracts he wants
you to sign will permit as much as 24 per cent interest on
the unpaid balance, with no closing-out clause. That means
you would be paying many times the stated price for the
goods before the contract is closed. You can go ahead and
sign if you want but understand what you're signing."</p>
<p>The Garvian commander stared at him, and then shook
his head, laughing. "Of course your friend is not serious,"
he said. "These prices can be compared on any planet and
you will see their fairness. Here, read the contracts, see what
they say and decide for yourselves." He held out a sheaf of
papers.</p>
<p>"The contracts may sound well enough," Dal said, "but
I'm telling you what they actually say."</p>
<p>Jack looked stricken. "But surely just one or two things—"</p>
<p>Tiger shook his head. "Dal knows what he's talking about.
I don't think we'd better buy anything at all."</p>
<p>The Garvian commander turned to Dal angrily. "What
are you telling them? There is nothing false in these contracts!"</p>
<p>"I didn't say there was. I just can't see them taking a
beating with their eyes shut, that's all. Your contracts are
legal enough, but the prices and terms are piracy, and you
know it."<SPAN name="page96" id="page96"></SPAN></p>
<p>The commander glared at him for a moment. Then he
turned away scornfully. "So what I have heard is true, after
all," he said. "You really have thrown in your lot with these
pill-peddlers, these idiots from Earth who can't even wipe
their noses without losing in a trade." He signaled the lifeboat
pilot. "Take them back to their ship, we're wasting our
time. There are better things to do than to deal with traitors."</p>
<p>The trip back to the <i>Lancet</i> was made in silence. Dal
could sense the pilot's scorn as he dumped them off in their
entrance lock, and dashed back to the <i>Teegar</i> with the lifeboat.
Gloomily Jack and Tiger followed Dal into the control
room, a drab little cubby-hole compared to the <i>Teegar</i>'s
lounge.</p>
<p>"Well, it was fun while it lasted," Jack said finally, looking
up at Dal. "But the way that guy slammed you, I wish
we'd never gone."</p>
<p>"I know," Dal said. "The commander just thought he saw
a perfect setup. He figured you'd never question the contracts
if I backed him up."</p>
<p>"It would have been easy enough. Why didn't you?"</p>
<p>Dal looked at the Blue Doctor. "Maybe I just don't like
people who give away surgical sets," he said. "Remember,
I'm not a Garvian trader any more. I'm a doctor from Hospital
Earth."</p>
<p>Moments later, the great Garvian ship was gone, and the
red light was blinking on the call board. Tiger started tracking
down the call while Jack went back to work on the
daily log book and Dal set up food for dinner. The pleasant
dreams were over; they were back in the harness of patrol
ship doctors once again.</p>
<p>Jack and Dal were finishing dinner when Tiger came back
with a puzzled frown on his face. "Finally traced that call.<SPAN name="page97" id="page97"></SPAN>
At least I think I did. Anybody ever hear of a star called
31 Brucker?"</p>
<p>"Brucker?" Jack said. "It isn't on the list of contracts.
What's the trouble?"</p>
<p>"I'm not sure," Tiger said. "I'm not even certain if it's
a call or not. Come on up front and see what you think."</p>
<hr class="longer" />
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