Star Surgeon Page 7

  CHAPTER 7

  ALARUMS AND EXCURSIONS

  Once more the crew of the _Lancet_ settled down to routine, and theincident on Morua VIII seemed almost forgotten.

  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 notexactly cordial to Dal Timgar, at least he had dropped the openantagonism that he had shown before. Apparently Tiger's angry outbursthad startled Jack, as though he had never really considered that the bigEarthman might honestly be attached to his friend from Garv II, and theBlue Doctor seemed sincere in his agreement to work with Dal and Tigeras a team.

  But bit by bit Dal could sense that the change in Jack's attitude wentdeeper than the surface. "You know, I really think he was _scared_ ofme," Dal said one night when he and Tiger were alone. "Sounds silly, butI think it's true. He pretends to be so sure of himself, but I thinkhe's as worried about doing things wrong as we are, and just won't admitit. And he really thought I was a threat when I came aboard."

  "He probably had a good thorough briefing from Black Doctor Tannerbefore he got the assignment," Tiger said grimly.

  "Maybe--but somehow I don't think he cares for the Black Doctor muchmore than we do."

  But whatever the reason, much of the tension was gone when the _Lancet_had left the Moruan system behind. A great weight seemed to have beenlifted, and if there was not quite peace on board, at least there was anuneasy truce. Tiger and Jack were almost friendly, talking together moreoften and getting to know each other better. Jack still avoided Dal andseldom included him in conversations, but the open contempt of the firstfew weeks on the ship now seemed tempered somewhat.

  Once again the _Lancet_'s calls fell into a pattern. Landings on theoutpost planets became routine, bright spots in a lonely and wanderingexistence. The calls that came in represented few real problems. Theship stopped at one contract planet to organize a mass inoculationprogram against a parasitic infestation resembling malaria. They pausedat another place to teach the native doctors the use of some newsurgical instruments that had been developed in Hospital Earthlaboratories just for them. Frantic emergency calls usually proved toinvolve trivial problems, but once or twice potentially serioussituations were spotted early, before they could develop into realtrouble.

  And as the three doctors got used to the responsibilities of a patrolship's rounds, and grew more confident of their ability to handle theproblems thrust upon them, they found themselves working more and moreefficiently as a team.

  This was the way the General Practice Patrol was supposed to function.Each doctor had unsuspected skills that came to light. There was noquestioning Jack Alvarez's skill as a diagnostician, but it seemeduncanny to Dal the way the slender, dark-haired Earthman could listencarefully to a medical problem of an alien race on a remote planet, andthen seem to know exactly which questions to ask to draw out thesignificant information about the situation. Tiger was not nearly asquick and clever as Jack; he needed more time to ponder a question ofmedical treatment, and he would often spend long hours poring over thedata tapes before deciding what to do in a given case--but he alwaysseemed to come up with an answer, and his answers usually worked. Aboveall, Tiger's relations with the odd life-forms they encountered wereinvariably good; the creatures seemed to like him, and would follow hisinstructions faithfully.

  Dal, too, had opportunities to demonstrate that his surgical skill andjudgment was not universally faulty in spite of the trouble on MoruaVIII. More than once he succeeded in almost impossible surgical caseswhere there was no time to call for help, and little by little he couldsense Jack's growing confidence in his abilities, grudging though itmight be.

  Dal had ample time to mull over the thing that had happened on MoruaVIII and to think about the interview with Black Doctor Tannerafterward. He knew he was glad that Tiger had intervened even on thebasis of a falsehood; until Tiger had spoken up Dal had been certainthat the Black Doctor fully intended to use the incident as an excuse todischarge him from the General Practice Patrol. There was no question inhis mind that the Black Doctor's charges had been exaggerated into atrumped-up case against him, and there was no question that Tiger'sinsistence on taking the blame had saved him; he could not help beingthankful.

  Yet there was something about it that disturbed Dal, nibbling awaypersistently at his mind. He couldn't throw off the feeling that his ownacceptance of Tiger's help had been wrong.

  Part of it, he knew, was his native, inbred loathing for falsehood. Fairor unfair, Dal had always disliked lying. Among his people, the truthmight be bent occasionally, but frank lying was considered a deepdisgrace, and there was a Garvian saying that "a false tongue wins notrue friends." Garvian traders were known throughout the Galaxy as muchfor their rigid adherence to their word as they were for the hardbargains they could drive; Dal had been enormously confused during hisfirst months on Hospital Earth by the way Earthmen seemed to acceptlying as part of their daily life, unconcerned about it as long as thefalsehood could not be proven.

  But something else about Tiger's defense of him bothered Dal far morethan the falsehood--something that had vaguely disturbed him ever sincehe had known the big Earthman, and that now seemed to elude him everytime 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 thesecond year of medical school. Dal had almost despaired by then ofmaking friends with his hostile and resentful classmates and had begunmore and more to avoid contact with them, building up a protective shelland relying on Fuzzy for company or comfort. Then Tiger had found himeating lunch by himself in the medical school lounge one day and floppeddown in the seat beside him and began talking as if Dal were justanother classmate. Tiger's open friendliness had been like a springbreeze to Dal who was desperately lonely in this world of strangers;their friendship had grown rapidly, and gradually others in the classhad begun to thaw enough at least to be civil when Dal was around. Dalhad sensed that this change of heart was largely because of Tiger andnot because of him, yet he had welcomed it as a change from the previousintolerable coldness even though it left him feeling vaguely uneasy.Tiger was well liked by the others in the class; Dal had been gratefulmore than once when Tiger had risen in hot defense of the Garvian'sright to be studying medicine among Earthmen in the school on HospitalEarth.

  But that had been in medical school, among classmates. Somehow that hadbeen different from the incident that occurred on Morua VIII, and Dal'suneasiness grew stronger than ever the more he thought of it. Talking toTiger about it was no help; Tiger just grinned and told him to forgetit, but even in the rush of shipboard activity it stubbornly refused tobe forgotten.

  One minor matter also helped to ease the tension between the doctors asthey made their daily rounds. Tiger brought a pink dispatch sheet in toDal one day, grinning happily. "This is from the weekly news capsule,"he said. "It ought to cheer you up."

  It was a brief news note, listed under "incidental items." "The BlackService of Pathology," it said, "has announced that Black Doctor HugoTanner will enter Hospital Philadelphia within the next week forprophylactic heart surgery. In keeping with usual Hospital Earthadministrative policy, the Four-star Black Doctor will undergo a totalcardiac transplant to halt the Medical education administrator'sprogressively disabling heart disease." The note went on to name thesurgeons who would officiate at the procedure.

  Dal smiled and handed back the dispatch. "Maybe it will improve histemper," he said, "even if it does give him another fifty years ofactive life."

  "Well, at least it will take him out of _our_ hair for a while," Tigersaid. "He won't have time to keep us under too close scrutiny."

  Which, Dal was forced to admit, did not make him too unhappy.

  Shipboard rounds kept all three doctors busy. Often, with contactlandings, calls, and studying, it seemed only a brief time from sleepperiod to sleep period, but still they had some time for minor luxuries.Dal was almost continuously shivering, with the
ship kept at atemperature that was comfortable for Tiger and Jack; he missed thetropical heat of his home planet, and sometimes it seemed that he waschilled down to the marrow of his bones in spite of his coat of grayfur. With a little home-made plumbing and ingenuity, he finally managedto convert one of the ship's shower units into a steam bath. Once ortwice each day he would retire for a blissful half hour warming himselfup to Garv II normal temperatures.

  Fuzzy also became a part of shipboard routine. Once he grew accustomedto Tiger and Jack and the surroundings aboard the ship, the littlecreature grew bored sitting on Dal's shoulder and wanted to be in themiddle of things. Since the early tension had eased, he was willing tobe apart from his master from time to time, so Dal and Tiger built him aplatform that hung from the ceiling of the control room. There Fuzzywould sit and swing by the hour, blinking happily at the activity goingon all around him.

  But for all the appearance of peace and agreement, there was still anundercurrent of tension on board the _Lancet_ which flared up from timeto time when it was least expected, between Dal and Jack. It was on onesuch occasion that a major crisis almost developed, and once again Fuzzywas the center of the contention.

  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 thatsomething fearful had happened to Fuzzy.

  There was a small sound-proof cubicle in the computer room, with achair, desk and a tape-reader for the doctors when they had odd momentsto spend reading up on recent medical bulletins or reviewing theirtextbooks. Dal spent more time here than the other two; the temperatureof the room could be turned up, and he had developed a certain fondnessfor the place with its warm gray walls and its soft relaxing light. Hereon the tapes were things that he could grapple with, things that hecould understand. If a problem here eluded him, he could study it outuntil he had mastered it. The hours he spent here were a welcome retreatfrom the confusing complexities of getting along with Jack and Tiger.

  These long study periods were boring for Fuzzy who wasn't muchinterested in the oxygen-exchange mechanism of the intelligent beetlesof Aldebaran VI. Frequently Dal would leave him to swing on his platformor explore about the control cabin while he spent an hour or two atthe tape-reader. Today Dal had been working for over an hour,deeply immersed in a review of the intermediary metabolism ofchlorine-breathing mammals, when something abruptly wrenched hisattention from the tape.

  It was as though a light had snapped off in his mind, or a door slammedshut. There was no sound, no warning; yet, suddenly, he felt dreadfully,frighteningly alone, as if in a split second something inside him hadbeen torn away. He sat bolt upright, staring, and he felt his skin crawland his fingers tremble as he listened, trying to spot the source of thetrouble.

  And then, almost instinctively, he knew what was wrong. He leaped tohis feet, tore open the door to the cubicle and dashed down the hallwaytoward the control room. "Fuzzy!" he shouted. "Fuzzy, _where are you?_"

  Tiger and Jack were both at the control panel dictating records forfiling. They looked up in surprise as the Red Doctor burst into theroom. Fuzzy's platform was hanging empty, gently swaying back and forth.Dal peered frantically around the room. There was no sign of the smallpink creature.

  "Where is he?" he demanded. "What's happened to Fuzzy?"

  Jack shrugged in disgust. "He's up on his perch. Where else?"

  "He's not either! Where is he?"

  Jack blinked at the empty perch. "He was there just a minute ago. I sawhim."

  "Well, he's not there now, and something's wrong!" In a panic, Dal begansearching the room, knocking over stools, scattering piles of paper,peering in every corner where Fuzzy might be concealed.

  For a moment the others sat frozen, watching him. Then Tiger jumped tohis feet. "Hold it, hold it! He probably just wandered off for a minute.He does that all the time."

  "No, it's something worse than that." Dal was almost choking on thewords. "Something terrible has happened. I know it."

  Jack Alvarez tossed the recorder down in disgust. "You and yourmiserable pet!" he said. "I knew we shouldn't have kept him on board."

  Dal stared at Jack. Suddenly all the anger and bitterness of the pastfew weeks could no longer be held in. Without warning he hurled himselfat the Blue Doctor's throat. "Where is he?" he cried. "What have youdone with him? What have you done to Fuzzy? You've done something tohim! You've hated him every minute just like you hate me, only he'seasier to pick on. Now where is he? What have you done to him?"

  Jack staggered back, trying to push the furious little Garvian away."Wait a minute! Get away from me! I didn't do anything!"

  "You did too! Where is he?"

  "I don't know." Jack struggled to break free, but there was powerfulstrength in Dal's fingers for all his slight body build. "I tell you, hewas here just a minute ago."

  Dal felt a hand grip his collar then, and Tiger was dragging them apartlike two dogs in a fight. "Now stop this!" he roared, holding them bothat arm's length. "I said _stop it_! 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."

  "But he's _gone_," Dal panted. "Something's happened to him. I _know_it."

  "How do you know?"

  "I--I just know. I can feel it."

  "All right, then let's find him," Tiger said. "He's got to be somewhereon the ship. If he's in trouble, we're wasting time fighting."

  Tiger let go, and Jack brushed off his shirt, his face very white. "Isaw him just a little while ago," he said. "He was sitting up on thatsilly perch watching us, and then swinging back and forth and swingingover to that cabinet and back."

  "Well, let's get started looking," Tiger said.

  They fanned out, with Jack still muttering to himself, and searched thecontrol room inch by inch. There was no sign of Fuzzy. Dal had controlof himself now, but he searched with a frantic intensity. "He's not inhere," he said at last, "he must have gone out somewhere."

  "There was only one door open," Tiger said. "The one you just camethrough, from the rear corridor. Dal, you search the computer room.Jack, check the lab and I'll go back to the reactors."

  They started searching the compartments off the rear corridor. For tenminutes there was no sound in the ship but the occasional slamming of ahatch, the grate of a desk drawer, the bang of a cabinet door. Dalworked through the maze of cubby-holes in the computer room with growinghopelessness. The frightening sense of loneliness and loss in his mindwas overwhelming; he was almost physically ill. The warm, comfortablefeeling of _contact_ that he had always had before with Fuzzy was gone.As the minutes passed, hopelessness gave way to despair.

  Then Jack gave a hoarse cry from the lab. Dal tripped and stumbled inhis haste to get down the corridor, and almost collided with Tiger atthe lab door.

  "I think we're too late," Jack said. "He's gotten into the formalin."

  He lifted one of the glass beakers down from the shelf to the workbench. It was obvious what had happened. Fuzzy had gone exploring andhad found the laboratory a fascinating place. Several of the reagentsbottles had been knocked over as if he had been sampling them. The glasslid to the beaker of formalin which was kept for tissue specimens hadbeen pushed aside just enough to admit the little creature's two-inchgirth. Now Fuzzy lay in the bottom of the beaker, immersed in formalin,a formless, shapeless blob of sickly gray jelly.

  "Are you sure it's formalin?" Dal asked.

  Jack poured off the fluid, and the acrid smell of formaldehyde thatfilled 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 geton my nerves. But he picked the one thing to fall into that could killhim. Unless he had some way to set up a protective barrier...."

  Dal took the beaker. "Get me some saline," he said tightly. "And somenutrient broth."

  Jack pulled out two jugs and poured their contents into an empt
y 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 continuedmassaging and changing the solutions, first saline, then nutrient broth."Get me some sponges and a blade."

  Tiger brought them in. Carefully Dal began debriding the damaged outerlayers. Jack and Tiger watched; then Jack said, "Look, there's a tingeof pink in the middle."

  Slowly the faint pink in the center grew more ruddy. Dal changedsolutions again, and sank down on a stool. "I think he'll make it," hesaid. "He has enormous regenerative powers as long as any fragment ofhim is left." He looked up at Jack who was still watching the creaturein the beaker almost solicitously. "I guess I made a fool of myself backthere when I jumped you."

  Jack's face hardened, as though he had been caught off guard. "I guessyou did, all right."

  "Well, I'm sorry. I just couldn't think straight. It was the first timeI'd ever been--apart from him."

  "I still say he doesn't belong aboard," Jack said. "This is a medicalship, not a menagerie. And if you ever lay your hands on me again,you'll wish you hadn't."

  "I said I was sorry," Dal said.

  "I heard you," Jack said. "I just don't believe you, that's all."

  He gave Fuzzy a final glance, and then headed back to the control room.

  * * * * *

  Fuzzy recovered, a much abashed and subdued Fuzzy, clinging timorouslyto Dal's shoulder and refusing to budge for three days, but apparentlybasically unharmed by his inadvertent swim in the deadly formalin bath.Presently he seemed to forget the experience altogether, and once againtook his perch on the platform in the control room.

  But Dal did not forget. He said little to Tiger and Jack, but theincident had shaken him severely. For as long as he could remember, hehad always had Fuzzy close at hand. He had never before in his lifeexperienced the dreadful feeling of emptiness and desertion, the almostparalyzing fear and helplessness that he had felt when Fuzzy had lostcontact with him. It had seemed as though a vital part of him hadsuddenly been torn away, and the memory of the panic that followed sentchills down his back and woke him up trembling from his sleep. He wasashamed of his unwarranted attack on Jack, yet even this seemedinsignificant in comparison to the powerful fear that had been drivinghim.

  Happily, the Blue Doctor chose to let the matter rest where it was, andif anything, seemed more willing than before to be friendly. For thefirst time he seemed to take an active interest in Fuzzy, "chatting"with him when he thought no one was around, and bringing him occasionaltid-bits of food after meals were over.

  Once more life on the _Lancet_ settled back to routine, only to have itshattered by an incident of quite a different nature. It was just afterthey had left a small planet in the Procyon system, one of the routinecheck-in points, that they made contact with the Garvian trading ship.

  Dal recognized the ship's design and insignia even before the signalscame in, and could hardly contain his excitement. He had not seen afellow countryman for years except for an occasional dull luncheon withthe Garvian ambassador to Hospital Earth during medical school days. Thethought of walking the corridors of a Garvian trading ship again broughtan overwhelming wave of homesickness. He was so excited he could hardlywait for Jack to complete the radio-sighting formalities. "What ship isshe?" he wanted to know. "What house?"

  Jack handed him the message transcript. "The ship is the _Teegar_," hesaid. "Flagship of the SinSin trading fleet. They want permission toapproach us."

  Dal let out a whoop. "Then it's a space trader, and a big one. You'venever seen ships like these before."

  Tiger joined them, staring at the message transcript. "A SinSin ship!Send them the word, Jack, and be quick, before they get disgusted andmove on."

  Jack sent out the approach authorization, and they watched with growingexcitement as the great trading vessel began its close-approachmaneuvers.

  The name of the house of SinSin was famous throughout the galaxy. It wasone of the oldest and largest of the great trading firms that had builtGarv II into its position of leadership in the Confederation, and theSinSin ships had penetrated to every corner of the galaxy, to everyknown planet harboring an intelligent life-form.

  Tiger and Jack had seen the multitudes of exotic products in theHospital Earth stores that came from the great Garvian ships on theirfrequent visits. But this was more than a planetary trader loaded with afew items for a single planet. The space traders roamed from star systemto star system, their holds filled with treasures beyond number. Suchships as these might be out from Garv II for decades at a time,tempting any ship they met with the magnificent variety of wares theycarried.

  Slowly the trader approached, and Dal took the speaker, addressing thecommander of the _Teegar_ in Garvian. "This is the General PracticePatrol Ship _Lancet_," he said, "out from Hospital Earth with threephysicians aboard, including a countryman of yours."

  "Is that Dal Timgar?" the reply came back. "By the Seven Moons! We'dheard that there was now a Garvian physician, and couldn't believe ourears. Come aboard, all of you, you'll be welcome. We'll send over alifeboat!"

  The _Teegar_ was near now, a great gleaming ship with the sign of thehouse of SinSin on her hull. A lifeboat sprang from a launching rack andspeared across to the _Lancet_. Moments later the three doctors wereclimbing into the sleek little vessel and moving across the void ofspace to the huge Garvian ship.

  It was like stepping from a jungle outpost village into a magnificent,glittering city. The Garvian ship was enormous; she carried a crew ofseveral hundred, and the wealth and luxury of the ship took theEarthmen's breath away. The cabins and lounges were paneled withexpensive fabrics and rare woods, the furniture inlaid with preciousmetals. Down the long corridors goods of the traders were laid out inresplendent display, surpassing the richest show cases in the shops onHospital Earth.

  They received a royal welcome from the commander of the _Teegar_, anaged, smiling little Garvian with a pink fuzz-ball on his shoulder thatcould have been Fuzzy's twin. He bowed low to Tiger and Jack, leadingthem into the reception lounge where a great table was spread with foodsand pastries of all varieties. Then he turned to Dal and embraced himlike a long-lost brother. "Your father Jai Timgar has long been anhonored friend of the house of SinSin, and anyone of the house of Timgaris 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 ofHospital Earth?"

  Dal touched Fuzzy to the commander's fuzz-ball in the ancient Garviangreeting. "It's possible, and true," he said. "I studied there. I am theRed Doctor on this patrol ship."

  "Ah, but this is good," the commander said. "What better way to draw ourworlds together, eh? But come, you must look and see what we have in ourstorerooms, feast your eyes on the splendors we carry. For all of you, athousand wonders are to be found here."

  Jack hesitated as the commander led them back toward the displaycorridors. "We'd be glad to see the ship, but you should know thatpatrol ship physicians have little money to spend."

  "Who speaks of money?" the commander cried. "Did I speak of it? Come andlook! Money is nothing. The Garvian traders are not mere money-changers.Look and enjoy; if there is something that strikes your eye, somethingthat would fulfill the desires of your heart, it will be yours." He gaveDal a smile and a sly wink. "Surely our brother here has told you manytimes of the wonders to be seen in a space trader, and terms can bearranged that will make any small purchase a painless pleasure."

  He led them off, like a head of state conducting visiting dignitaries ona tour, with a retinue of Garvian underlings trailing behind them. Fortwo delirious hours they wandered the corridors of the great ship,staring hungrily at the dazzling displays. They had been away fromHospital Earth and its shops and stores for months; now it seemed theywere walking through an incredible treasure-trove stocked witheverything that they could possibly have wanted.

  For Jack there was a dress uniform, specially tailored for a physicianin the
Blue Service of Diagnosis, the insignia woven into the cloth withgold and platinum thread. Reluctantly he turned away from it, a luxuryhe could never dream of affording. For Tiger, who had been muttering forweeks about getting out of condition in the sedentary life of the ship,there was a set of bar bells and gymnasium equipment ingeniouslydesigned to collapse into a unit no larger than one foot square, yetopening out into a completely equipped gym. Dal's eyes glittered at thenew sets of surgical instruments, designed to the most rigid HospitalEarth specifications, which appeared almost without his asking to seethem. There were clothes and games, precious stones and exotic rings,watches set with Arcturian dream-stones, and boots inlaid with silver.

  They made their way through the corridors, reluctant to leave onedisplay for the next. Whenever something caught their eyes, thecommander snapped his fingers excitedly, and the item was unobtrusivelynoted down by one of the underlings. Finally, exhausted and glutted justfrom looking, they turned back toward the reception room.

  "The things are beautiful," Tiger said wistfully, "but impossible.Still, you were very kind to take your time--"

  "Time? I have nothing but time." The commander smiled again at Dal. "Andthere is an old Garvian proverb that to the wise man 'impossible' has nomeaning. Wait, you will see!"

  They came out into the lounge, and the doctors stopped short inamazement. Spread out before them were all of the items that hadcaptured their interest earlier.

  "But this is ridiculous," Jack said staring at the dress uniform. "Wecouldn't possibly buy these things, it would take our salaries fortwenty years to pay for them."

  "Have we mentioned price even once?" the commander protested. "You arethe crewmates of one of our own people! We would not dream of settingprices that we would normally set for such trifles as these. And as forterms, you have no worry. Take the goods aboard your ship, they arealready yours. We have drawn up contracts for you which require nopayment whatever for five years, and then payments of only a fiftieth ofthe value for each successive year. And for each of you, with thecompliments of the house of SinSin, a special gift at no chargewhatever."

  He placed in Jack's hands a small box with the lid tipped back. Againsta black velvet lining lay a silver star, and the official insignia of aStar Physician in the Blue Service. "You cannot wear it yet, of course,"the commander said. "But one day you will need it."

  Jack blinked at the jewel-like star. "You are very kind," he said. "I--Imean perhaps--" He looked at Tiger, and then at the display of goods onthe table. "Perhaps there are _some_ things--"

  Already two of the Garvian crewmen were opening the lock to thelifeboat, preparing to move the goods aboard. Then Dal Timgar spoke upsharply. "I think you'd better wait a moment," he said.

  "And for you," the commander continued, turning to Dal so smoothly thatthere 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 ofSinSin for many years, I have something out of the ordinary. I'm sureyour crewmates would not object to a special gift at my personalexpense."

  The commander lifted a scarf from the table and revealed the glitteringset of surgical instruments, neatly displayed in a velvet-lined carryingcase. The commander took it up from the table and thrust it into Dal'shands. "It is yours, my friend. And for this, there will be no contractwhatever."

  Dal stared down at the instruments. They were beautiful. He longed justto touch them, to hold them in his hands, but he shook his head and setthe case back on the table. He looked up at Tiger and Jack. "You shouldbe warned that the prices on these goods are four times what they oughtto be, and the deferred-payment contracts he wants you to sign willpermit as much as 24 per cent interest on the unpaid balance, with noclosing-out clause. That means you would be paying many times the statedprice for the goods before the contract is closed. You can go ahead andsign if you want but understand what you're signing."

  The Garvian commander stared at him, and then shook his head, laughing."Of course your friend is not serious," he said. "These prices can becompared on any planet and you will see their fairness. Here, read thecontracts, see what they say and decide for yourselves." He held out asheaf of papers.

  "The contracts may sound well enough," Dal said, "but I'm telling youwhat they actually say."

  Jack looked stricken. "But surely just one or two things--"

  Tiger shook his head. "Dal knows what he's talking about. I don't thinkwe'd better buy anything at all."

  The Garvian commander turned to Dal angrily. "What are you telling them?There is nothing false in these contracts!"

  "I didn't say there was. I just can't see them taking a beating withtheir eyes shut, that's all. Your contracts are legal enough, but theprices and terms are piracy, and you know it."

  The commander glared at him for a moment. Then he turned awayscornfully. "So what I have heard is true, after all," he said. "Youreally have thrown in your lot with these pill-peddlers, these idiotsfrom 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'rewasting our time. There are better things to do than to deal withtraitors."

  The trip back to the _Lancet_ was made in silence. Dal could sense thepilot's scorn as he dumped them off in their entrance lock, and dashedback to the _Teegar_ with the lifeboat. Gloomily Jack and Tiger followedDal into the control room, a drab little cubby-hole compared to the_Teegar_'s lounge.

  "Well, it was fun while it lasted," Jack said finally, looking up atDal. "But the way that guy slammed you, I wish we'd never gone."

  "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."

  "It would have been easy enough. Why didn't you?"

  Dal looked at the Blue Doctor. "Maybe I just don't like people who giveaway surgical sets," he said. "Remember, I'm not a Garvian trader anymore. I'm a doctor from Hospital Earth."

  Moments later, the great Garvian ship was gone, and the red light wasblinking on the call board. Tiger started tracking down the call whileJack went back to work on the daily log book and Dal set up food fordinner. The pleasant dreams were over; they were back in the harness ofpatrol ship doctors once again.

  Jack and Dal were finishing dinner when Tiger came back with a puzzledfrown on his face. "Finally traced that call. At least I think I did.Anybody ever hear of a star called 31 Brucker?"

  "Brucker?" Jack said. "It isn't on the list of contracts. What's thetrouble?"

  "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."