by Anthology
"Now, isn't that the strangest thing?" she said, puzzled. "I can't remember. Can you, dear?"
"It's a little mixed up," Mr. Fallon admitted. "Let's see, I know I was taller and I think I had a long, thin face--"
"Oh, we don't have to guess," Dr. Kalmar said. "Nurse, we have the information on file, don't we?"
"Yes, Doctor," she said, and instantly produced a photograph. They evidently thought it was merely filing efficiency; they hadn't noticed her searching for the picture quietly while Dr. Kalmar had been leading them on. He had, in fact, delayed asking her until she'd nodded to indicate that she had found it.
Mr. Fallon frowned as if he'd recognized the face but couldn't remember the name. His wife gave a little shriek of admiration.
"Why, Harry, you looked perfectly wonderful!"
"Those deep dimples made shaving pretty hard," he recalled.
"But they're darling! Why did you ever let me change you?"
"Because I wanted you to be happy, sweet."
It was as simple as that--a bit of practical psychology based on knowledge of the patients. Dr. Kalmar wished wistfully that old Dr. Lowell had been there to observe. He would have approved, which might have made up for Dr. Hoyt's unpleasant expression.
"I hope this is the one you want," Dr. Kalmar said as he took them to the front door after the rephysical.
"Goodness, I hope so!" Mrs. Fallon exclaimed. She looked fondly at her husband, and this time had to look up to see his face. "I'm almost positive this is what I want Harry to be."
"Well, if it isn't, sweet," Mr. Fallon said, "we'll try something else. I don't mind as long as it makes you happy."
They closed the door behind them, leaving the hospital empty of all but the small staff.
"They're crazy!" Dr. Hoyt exploded. "He's not the one we should be changing. That idiotic female needs a good Ego Alter!"
"He hasn't asked for it," Dr. Kalmar pointed out patiently.
"Then he ought to!"
"That's his decision, isn't it? There's such a thing as ethics, you know."
"I've never seen anything more insane than the way you work," snapped Dr. Hoyt. "I can't wait to finish my stretch here and go home."
He stamped out, weaving slightly because of the sedative.
"Well, what do you think of our assistant?" asked Dr. Kalmar.
"He's cute," Miss Dupont said irrationally.
Dr. Kalmar glowered at her. He'd forgotten that she was due to have a mate assigned to her this year.
* * * * *
Routine at the hospital was anything but routine. Dr. Hoyt barely kept from yelping each time someone was treated, and his help was given so unwillingly that Dr. Kalmar, sweating under a double load and with Dr. Hoyt to argue with at the same time, was all for putting him on the ship and asking Earth for another intern. But Miss Dupont talked him out of it.
For no discernible reason other than loneliness, Dr. Hoyt was taking her out. She was pleased, even though he crabbed constantly about the shabby-looking clothes she wore, which were typical of Deneb, and the way they fitted her.
Either the two of them didn't talk shop, or she had no influence with him--his criticism and impatience grew sharper each week.
It bothered Dr. Kalmar more than he thought it should, and much more than Mrs. Kalmar wanted it to. She was a pleasant little woman who liked things as they were, which was why Dr. Kalmar had hesitated all this while to ask her to undergo a slight rephysical; he would have preferred her a little taller, more filled out, her slight wrinkles deleted and, while he was thinking about it, he wished she'd let him give her space-black hair instead of her indeterminately blondish mop. But he'd rather have her as she was than peevish, so he had never mentioned it.
"Don't let the boy upset you, she said. "It's only that he's so young and inexperienced. You can't expect him to adjust quickly to a new environment and a whole new medical orientation."
"But that's just what annoys me! Why, I used to hang onto every word of Dr. Lowell's when I came here! I never thought I knew better than he did."
"Well, dear, you're you and Dr. Lowell is Dr. Lowell and Dr. Hoyt is Dr. Hoyt."
He tried to think of an answer and couldn't. "I suppose so."
"Maybe you'd feel better if you spoke to Dr. Lowell about it."
"What could he do? This is really an internal problem that I should work out with Dr. Hoyt. I can't involve Dr. Lowell in it."
But it became intolerable when there was a young girl who wanted to be a boy and Dr. Kalmar and Dr. Hoyt got into the worst battle yet. Naturally, she had to be given an Ego Alter to make her happy about being a girl, whereas Dr. Hoyt argued that she should be allowed to be a boy if that was what she wanted. Dr. Kalmar explained angrily once more that the sexes were exactly balanced and Dr. Hoyt quoted the rule of personal choice. It was applicable on Earth, but not on Deneb, Dr. Kalmar retorted, to which Dr. Hoyt snorted something about playing God.
Dr. Kalmar confessed harshly to his wife that she was right. He had to bring old Dr. Lowell into the situation; it was out of Dr. Kalmar's control and was keeping the hospital in a turmoil. It was time for Dr. Lowell to inspect the hospital, the job he had taken in place of actual retirement. Dr. Kalmar needed help from Miss Dupont to bring the problem out into the open. But she became unexpectedly obstinate.
"I won't hurt Leo's career," she explained flatly.
Dr. Kalmar gave her a vacant look. "Leo?"
She blushed. "Dr. Hoyt. He's honestly trying to understand, but he finds it so different from Earth. Practically everything we do here is in reverse."
"But so is our environment, Miss Dupont. Earth is over-crowded and Deneb is under-populated, so of course our methods would be the opposite of Earth's. He has to be made to see that we must solve our problems our own way."
She studied his face suspiciously. "That's all you want?"
"Certainly. Damn it, do you think I want him fired and sent back to Earth before his internship's up? I know it would hurt his record. Besides, I need an assistant--but not one I have to bicker with every time I make a move."
"Well, in that case--"
"Good girl. All you have to do is help me hold off the cases he'd argue about until Dr. Lowell gets here." He stared down glumly at his hands, which were gripping each other tightly. "God knows I'm no diplomat. Dr. Lowell is. He convinced me easily enough when I came here. Maybe he can do the same with Dr. Hoyt."
"Oh, I hope he can," Miss Dupont said earnestly. "I want so much to have you and Leo work together in harmony."
He glanced up, curious. "Why?"
"Because I'm in love with him."
He found himself nodding bitterly. Having Dr. Hoyt go back to Earth wouldn't be a fraction as bad as Miss Dupont leaving with him. So now there was something else to worry about.
* * * * *
Dr. Lowell came bouncing out of the jetcab a few days later. "The hospital better be spotless!" he called out jovially, paying off the hackie. "I'm in a mean mood. Liable to suspend everybody."
There was a strange lift to Dr. Kalmar's spirits as the old man entered the office. He wished without hope that he could inspire the same sort of reverence and respect. Impossible, of course. Dr. Lowell was great; he himself was nothing more than competent.
Dr. Kalmar introduced his young assistant to the old man.
"Young and strong," Dr. Lowell approved. "That's what we need on Deneb. Skill is important, but health and youth even more so."
"For those who stay," said Dr. Hoyt frostily. "I'm not."
Dr. Kalmar felt himself quiver with rage. The wet-nosed pup couldn't talk to Dr. Lowell like that!
But Dr. Lowell was saying cheerily, "You seem to have made up your mind to go back. No matter. Some decisions are like egg-shells--made only to be broken. I hope that's what you'll do with yours."
"Not a chance," Dr. Hoyt said. He didn't take the arrogant expression off his face even when Miss Dupont looked at him pleadingly.
"Then I say let's
signal the next ship--" Dr. Kalmar began.
Dr. Lowell cut in quickly, "You two have patients to attend to, I see. Don't worry about me. I know my way around this poor little wretch of a building. Not much like Earth hospitals, is it?" He headed for the medical supply room, adding just before he went in, "A lot can be said for small installations. The personal touch, you know."
Dr. Kalmar enviously realized how deftly the old man had put the youngster in his place, whereas he would have stood there and slugged it out verbally. Lord, if he could only acquire that awesome wisdom!
"Well, back to work," he said, trying to imitate the cheeriness at least.
"Sure, let's ruin some more lives," Dr. Hoyt almost snarled.
"Leo, please!" whispered Miss Dupont imploringly.
Five minutes later the two doctors were furiously arguing over a very old man who had been sent by Social Control to have his eyesight strengthened.
"You have no right to let anybody dodder around like this!" Dr. Hoyt yelled. "What in hell is Rephysical for if not for such cases?"
"You probably think we ought to make him look like 25 again," Dr. Kalmar yelled back. "If that's all you've learned working here--"
"Now, now," said Dr. Lowell soothingly. He'd come in unnoticed by either of the men. "Dr. Hoyt is right, of course. We would like to make old people young and some day we'll be able to afford it. But not for some time to come."
"Why not?" Dr. Hoyt demanded in a lower tone, visibly flattered by Dr. Lowell's seemingly taking his side.
"Rephysical can't actually make anyone young. It can only give the outward appearance of youth and replace obviously diseased parts. But an old body is an old organism; it has to break down eventually. If we give it more vigor than it can endure, it breaks down too soon, much sooner than if we let it age normally. That represents economic loss as well as a humanitarian one."
"I don't follow you," Dr. Hoyt said bewilderedly.
"Well, our patient used to be a machinist. A good one. Now he's only able to be an oiler. A good one, too, when you improve his eyesight. He can go on doing that for years, performing a useful function. But he'd wear himself out in no time as a machinist again if you de-aged him."
"Is that supposed to make sense?"
"It does," said Dr. Lowell, "for Deneb."
Dr. Hoyt wanted to continue the discussion, but Dr. Lowell was already on his way to inspect another part of the hospital. Grumbling, the young man helped chart the optical nerves that had to be replaced and measure the new curve of the retinas ordered by Social Control.
But he fought just as strenuously over other cases, especially a retired freight-jet pilot who had to have his reflexes slowed down so he could become a contented meteorologist. Whenever there was a loud disagreement of this sort, Dr. Lowell was there to mediate calmly.
* * * * *
At the end of the day, Dr. Kalmar was emotionally exhausted. He said as he and Dr. Lowell were washing up, "The kid's hopeless. I thought you could straighten him out--God knows I couldn't--but he'll never see why we have to work the way we do."
"What do you suggest?" Dr. Lowell asked through a towel.
"Send him back to Earth. Get an intern who's more malleable."
Dr. Lowell tossed the towel into the sterilizer. "Can't be done. We're expanding so fast all over the Galaxy that Earth can't train and ship out enough doctors for the new colonies. If we sent him back, I don't know when we'd get another."
Dr. Kalmar swallowed. "You mean it's him or nobody?"
"Afraid so."
"But he'll never fit in on Deneb!"
"You did," Dr. Lowell said.
Dr. Kalmar tried to smile modestly. "I realized immediately how little I knew and how much more experience you had. I was willing to learn. Why, I used to listen to you and watch you work and try to see your reasons for doing things--"
"You think so?" asked Dr. Lowell.
Dr. Kalmar glanced at him in astonishment. "You know I did. I still do, for that matter."
"When you landed on Deneb," said Dr. Lowell, "you were the most stubborn, opinionated young ass I'd ever met."
Dr. Kalmar's smile became an appreciative grin. "Damn, I wish I had that light touch of yours!"
"You were so dogmatic and argumentative that Dr. Hoyt is a suggestible schoolboy in comparison."
"Well, you don't have to go that far," Dr. Kalmar said. "I get what you're driving at--every intern needs orientation and I should be more patient and understanding."
"Then you don't follow me at all," stated Dr. Lowell. "Invite Dr. Hoyt, Miss Dupont and me to your house for dinner tonight and maybe you'll get a better idea of what I mean."
"Anything for a free meal, eh?"
"And to keep a doctor here on Deneb that we'd lose otherwise."
"Implying that I can't do it."
"Isn't that the decision you'd come to?"
"Yes, I guess it is," Dr. Kalmar confessed. "All right, how about dinner at my house tonight? I'll round up the other two and call Harriet so she'll expect us."
"Delighted to come," said Dr. Lowell. "Nice of you to ask me."
Miss Dupont was elated at the invitation and Dr. Hoyt said he had nothing else to do anyway. On the videophone Mrs. Kalmar was dismayed for a moment, until Dr. Lowell told her to put through an emergency order to Central Commissary and he'd verify it.
That was when Dr. Kalmar realized how serious the old man was. On a raw planet where crises were everyday routine, a situation had to be catastrophic before it could be called an emergency.
* * * * *
Dinner on Deneb was the same as anywhere else in the Galaxy. To free women for other work, food was delivered weekly in cooked form. A special messenger from Central Commissary had brought the emergency rations and Mrs. Kalmar had simply punctured the self-heat cartridges and put the servings in front of each guest; the containers were disposable plates and came with single-use plastic utensils. No garbage, no preparation, no cleaning up afterward, except to toss them all into the converter furnace. Dr. Hoyt was still not accustomed to wholly grown foods; he'd been raised on synthetics, of course, which were the staples on Earth.
"Well, that was good," said Dr. Lowell, getting up from the table with his round little belly comfortably expanded. "Now, let's have a few drinks before we start a professional bull session. Where do you keep your liquor? I'd like to mix my special so Dr. Hoyt can see we colonials are not so provincial."
"Good Lord, I haven't had your special for years!" exclaimed Dr. Kalmar. "Since about the time I came to Deneb, in fact."
"That's why it's a special. Reserved for state occasions, such as arrivals of colleagues from our dear old home planet."
"Oh, you don't have to go to all that bother," said Dr. Hoyt. "You'd have to make it twice--once now and once when I leave."
"That won't be for quite a while, will it?" Miss Dupont asked anxiously.
"As soon as I finish my internship. No more alien worlds for me. I like Earth."
Mrs. Kalmar got him to talk about it, which was much easier than getting him to stop, while Dr. Kalmar showed the old man where the liquor stock and fixings were kept. Watching him mix the ingredients with a chemist's care, Dr. Kalmar felt a glow of nostalgia. He recalled the celebration at Dr. Lowell's house, several months after he had come from Earth, when he'd enjoyed himself so much that he'd passed out. It was one of the pleasanter memories of his start on Deneb.
"Can't mix them all in a single batch," Dr. Lowell explained, bringing the drinks over one at a time as he finished preparing them. "Mrs. Kalmar ... Miss Dupont ... our gracious host, Dr. Kalmar ... and now Dr. Hoyt and myself." He lifted his glass at Dr. Hoyt. "Welcome to our latest associate--product, like ourselves, of the great medical schools of Earth. It's a forlorn hope, but may he learn as much from us about our peculiar methods as we learn from him about the latest terrestrial advances."
Dr. Hoyt, smiling as if he didn't think it possible, stood up when they'd downed their toast to him. "To Earth,"
he said. "May I get back in record time." He gulped it, said, "Delicious--for a colonial drink," and froze with his smile as fixed as if it had been painted on.
"Leo!" Miss Dupont cried, and shook him, but he stayed frozen.
"The man's allergic to alcohol!" said Dr. Kalmar, astonished.
"Do something!" Mrs. Kalmar begged. "Don't let him stand there like that! He--he looks like a petrified man!"
"Don't get panicky," said Dr. Lowell in a quiet, confident voice. "That's when you passed out, Dr. Kalmar. Right after your first taste of my special."
"But we haven't," Dr. Kalmar objected.
"Naturally. Your drinks weren't drugged."
"Drugged?" shrieked Miss Dupont. "You doped him?"
"That's rather obvious, isn't it?"
"But--what for?" Dr. Kalmar stammered.
"Same reason I slipped you a mickey not long after you got here. We can't take any chances that he'll ship back to Earth. You see?"
"I don't," raged Miss Dupont. "I think it's a cheap, dirty, foul trick and it won't work, either. You can't keep him drugged."
"I don't like you talking to Dr. Lowell like that," said Dr. Kalmar indignantly.
"You should be the last one to object," Mrs. Kalmar pointed out. "He said he drugged you, too."
"I know," Dr. Kalmar said blankly. "I don't understand--"
"You will," promised Dr. Lowell. "Just come along and don't interfere. Better give him the order; it'll keep things straighter."
Mrs. Kalmar was grimly disapproving and Miss Dupont was close to hysteria. Only Dr. Kalmar retained his awed respect for Dr. Lowell. If the old man said it was all right, it was, even if he couldn't see the reason.
"Go ahead," urged Dr. Lowell.
"Dr. Hoyt!"
"Yes, Dr. Kalmar?"
"You will come with us!"
"Yes, Dr. Kalmar."
Dr. Lowell took them back to the hospital.
"Now what?" asked Dr. Kalmar.
"You actually don't know?" Miss Dupont demanded. "He wants to put Leo through the Ego Alter."
"That's absurd," Dr. Kalmar said angrily, "and an outright slander. Dr. Lowell wouldn't consider such a thing--the boy didn't ask for it and it wasn't authorized by Social Control."