by James White
Indicating the big clinical viewscreen, it said, “As you can see, the Groalterri patient presented with a very large number, close on three hundred, punctured wounds that were equally divided over the dorsal and lateral areas and in the anterior region between the tentacles, where the tegument is thin and affords minimum natural protection. The punctures were apparently caused by a fast-flying and burrowing insect species which laid eggs and introduced infection to the wound sites. The Nallajim operational procedure was judged to be best suited to the treatment of the condition, and I was assigned. Because of the patient’s unusually large body mass, progress has been slow, but the prognosis is good except for an unfortunate lack of—”
“Doctor Seldal,” Thornnastor broke in, its voice sounding like an impatient, modulated foghorn. “Surely you asked the patient how its wounds were sustained?”
“The patient did not give this information,” Seldal said, the rapid, background twittering of its natural voice reflecting its irritation at the interruption. “I had been about to say that it rarely spoke to me, and never about itself or its condition.”
“The distribution of the punctures,” Diagnostician Conway said, speaking for the first time, “is too localized to suggest a random attack by an insect swarm. To my mind, the angles of penetration and the concentration on one clearly defined area indicates a common point of origin, as in an explosion, although I suppose it is possible that Hellishomar disturbed a hive and the insects attacked the parts of its body that were closest to them. From what little we know of the Groalterri species, they have refused to speak to everyone, so the reticence of the patient may be irritating but not unusual. In the past we have all treated our share of uncooperative patients.”
“Hellishomar was cooperative during treatment,” Seldal said, “and when it spoke it did so with politeness and respect, but without saying anything about itself. I suspected that the clinical picture might have psychological implications, and I asked Surgeon-Captain Lioren to speak to the patient in the hope that—”
“Surely this is a matter for the Chief Psychologist,” Thornnastor said impatiently. “What are a couple of busy Diagnosticians doing here?”
“I,” O’Mara said in a quiet voice, “was not consulted.”
Thornnastor’s four eyes and Conway’s two stared at O’Mara for a moment; then all six were directed at Lioren. It was probably fortunate that he could not read Tralthan or Earth-human expressions.
“In the hope,” Seldal went on, “that Lioren would have a similar degree of success in making a reticent patient talk as it had achieved with another of my patients, the former-Diagnostician Mannen. At the time I was not sure whether the matter was important enough to ask for the help of the Chief Psychologist. Now Lioren believes that it is, and, after consultation with the Surgeon-Captain, I am in total agreement.”
Seldal settled back into its perch, and Lioren placed two of his medial limbs on the table and tried to order his thoughts.
Thornnastor’s six elephantine feet thumped restively against the floor in a manner which could have indicated impatience or curiosity. Conway made an untranslatable sound and said, “Surgeon-Captain, for the nonmedical improvement you have brought about in Doctor Mannen, who was my tutor and is my friend, I am most grateful. But how can we help you with what appears to be a psychiatric problem?”
“Before I begin,” Lioren said, “I would prefer that you do not use my former title. You know that I am forbidden and have forsworn the practice of medicine, and the reason for it. However, I cannot change the way my mind works, and my past training leads me to the conclusion that Hellishomar’s problem is not entirely psychiatric. But first I must discuss briefly the patient’s evolutionary and philosophical background.”
Thornnastor’s feet remained at rest and there were no other interruptions while Lioren described the strangely divided cultures of the telepathic Parents and the more technologically oriented Small, and how strongly the latter were affected by the teachings of the former and by the uncertainties of approaching maturity. He told them how O’Mara had explained that the division was due to an uncompleted stage of their evolution, that the Small were subintelligent by Groalterri standards until they reached maturity, although the concern of the Parents for their Small was very strong. The intelligent macrospecies inhabiting Groalter were so physically massive and extremely long-lived that their numbers had to be strictly controlled if their planet and their race was not to become extinct. Orbital observations had shown that the total Groalterri population of both Parents and Small numbered less than three thousand, so that the birthing of a Small was an extremely rare event and the parental regard for the newborn proportionately large.
Lioren was careful to speak in the most general terms, and he was particularly careful to give only information that Hellish-omar had given him permission to pass on, or material that he had been able to deduce for himself.
“Doubtless you will discover for yourselves that the information I am about to give you regarding the patient is incomplete,” Lioren went on. “This is a deliberate omission on my part, and I have told the Chief Psychologist O’Mara why he and yourselves must be kept in partial ignorance—”
“You told O’Mara that,” Conway broke in, showing its teeth, “and you are still alive?”
“Because Hellishomar is the first and only source of data on the Groalterri culture,” Lioren continued, deciding that it was not a serious question. “This information is of great value to the Federation and the hospital, but I have been told that a small proportion of it is not for general distribution. Were I to break confidence with the patient there is a risk, virtually a certainty, that the source of this valuable knowledge would dry up. My observations of the patient’s behavior and clinical condition, however, are as complete and accurate as I can make them.”
Lioren paused briefly so as to select words that would combine maximum information with complete confidentiality. “Patient Hellishomar came here at the unconscious direction, or suggestion or whatever means was used on the captain of the orbiting vessel, of the Parents because they hoped that it could be treated. They themselves are physically and temperamentally incapable of inflicting pain or injury on another intelligent life-form, and the treatment was not available on Groalter because the surgical procedures of the Small, while precise enough, are too crude for the fine work of removing large numbers of deeply embedded insects. Senior Physician Seldal has been performing this work as only it can, but with the minimum of verbal contact with the patient. I had nothing but verbal contact with Hellishomar and had many opportunities to observe its behavior while we were speaking. These observations led me to the conclusion, a conclusion with which Seldal and O’Mara now agree, that the infected insect punctures were not the only reason for Hellishomar being sent here.”
They were all watching him and so still were they that the whole office with its living contents might have been a holograph.
“From our conversations together,” Lioren went on, “it has become obvious that Hellishomar has grown much too old and large to live and practice as a Cutter among the Small, and that by now it should be undergoing the psychological as well as the physical changes that precede full maturity. But the Parents have not touched minds with it, as is customary at this time, or if they have tried to do so it has not been aware of it because the patient is telepathically deaf, and the possibility exists that Hellishomar is mentally retarded.”
There was a short silence that was broken by Thornnastor. “Judging by the evidence you have given us so far, Surgeon-Captain, I would say it is a strong probability.”
“Please do not use my former title,” Lioren said.
The Earth-human, Conway, made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “You still retain the manner of a Surgeon-Captain if not the rank, so the mistake is excusable. But if you are convinced that Hellishomar is mentally defective, that is not the concern of Pathology or Surgery, so what are Thornnastor and myself doing here?�
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“I am not fully convinced,” Lioren replied, “that the condition is due to a congenital defect. Rather, I favor the theory that there might be a structural abnormality which has temporarily affected the proper development of the patient’s telepathic faculty without, however, impairing the other brain functions. This theory is based on behavioral observations by myself as well as those reported by Seldal, and on conversations with the patient which I will not repeat in detail.”
O’Mara made an untranslatable sound but did not speak. Lioren ignored the interruption and went on. “Hellishomar is a Cutter, the Groalterri equivalent of a surgeon, and, although the gross differences in its body mass and ours mean that its work seems crude by our standards, it has displayed to me and to the ward’s vision recorders a high degree of muscular coordination and precision of control. There was no evidence of the uncoordinated movements or the mental confusion normally expected of a damaged or otherwise abnormal brain. Even though it is only an immature member of a species whose adult minds are immeasurably more advanced than our own, in conversation it displays a mind that is flexible, lucid in its thinking, and well able to debate the finer points of philosophy, theology, and ethics that have arisen between us. This is not, I submit, the physical behavior or the quality of thinking expected of a congenitally defective brain. I believe that the deficiency lies only with the telepathic faculty and that there is a high probability that the abnormality causing it is localized and may be operable.”
The Chief Psychologist’s office became a still picture once again. “Go on,” Conway said.
“For the first time,” Lioren resumed, “the Groalterri have contacted the Federation so that we at Sector General might cure one of their ailing Small. Perhaps they are hoping that Hellish-omar’s cure will be complete. We should do our best not to disappoint them.”
“We should do our best,” Conway said, “not to kill the patient. Do you realize what you are asking?”
Thornnastor answered the question before Lioren could reply. “It will require the investigation of a living and conscious brain about which we know nothing, because there are no Small cadavers available for prior investigation. We will be looking for structural abnormalities when we do not even know what is normal. Microbiopsies and sensor implants will not give data of the precision required for a cerebral procedure. Our deep scanners cannot be used because the level of radiation needed to penetrate a cranial structure of that size would almost certainly interfere with the locomotor muscle networks, and we cannot risk a patient of Hellishomar’s mass making involuntary muscle movements during an op. To a greater or lesser degree, depending on the findings of the nonsurgical investigation, we will be trusting to luck and instinct. Has the patient been informed of the risks?”
“Not yet,” Lioren replied. “As the result of a recent conversation with the patient there was an emotional upset of some kind. Hellishomar broke off verbal contact and physically evicted me from the ward, but I am hoping to resume communication soon. I will inform it of the situation and try to obtain its permission and cooperation during the operation.”
“Thankfully,” Conway said, showing its teeth again, “that is your problem.” It turned toward O’Mara. “Chief Psychologist, in matters pertaining to Patient Hellishomar and until further notice I want Trainee Lioren placed under my authority. I shall take overall surgical responsibility for this one, and move it to the top of my operating schedule. Thornnastor, Seldal, and Lioren will assist. And now, if there is nothing further to detain us—”
“With respect, Diagnostician Conway,” Lioren said urgently, “I am forbidden to practice—”
“So you have said,” Conway broke in as it rose to its feet. “You will not be required to cut, simply to observe and advise and give nonsurgical support to the patient. You are the only one among us who may have sufficient knowledge of the patient’s mind and thought processes — and it is Hellishomar’s mind that we will be tinkering with — to keep it from ending up a worse mental cripple than you say it already is.
“You will assist.”
Lioren was still trying to think of a reply when the office had emptied except for O’Mara and himself. The Chief Psychologist had risen to its feet, which was a clear nonverbal signal that Lioren should also leave. He remained where he was.
Hesitantly, he said, “If I had sought personal interviews with Diagnosticians Conway and Thornnastor individually, the result would have been the same, but much time would have been wasted because they are busy entities and appointments with them are difficult to obtain for a trainee. I am grateful for your help in expediting this matter, especially as you and they could not be given full information about the patient. You remained silent so as not to embarrass me by calling attention to my deliberate omission.
“But it is a new and more serious problem,” Lioren went on, “which was my prime reason for asking for your help. Again I may only discuss it in general terms—”
The Chief Psychologist seemed to be in respiratory distress for a moment, but it recovered quickly and held up one hand for silence.
“Lioren,” O’Mara asked in a very quiet voice, “do you think we are all mentally defective?”
CHAPTER 23
LlOREN knew that an answer was not expected because the questioner was about to provide its own.
“Thornnastor and Conway and Seldal are not stupid,” O’Mara continued. “My latest records show that their three minds are currently in possession of a total of seventeen Educator tapes, and the donor entities who made those recordings were not stupid, and I, making due allowance for the subjective nature of the assessment, would place my own level of intelligence as well above average.”
Lioren was about to agree, but O’Mara gestured for silence.
“Seldal’s description of the clinical picture,” the Chief Psychologist went on, “together with the knowledge you have already obtained regarding the Groalterri society as a whole, and your new information that the patient is by its race’s standards a mental defective, indicates a very high probability that Hellish-omar’s injuries were the result of a failed suicide attempt. Thornnastor, Conway, Seldal, and myself know this, but we would certainly not embarrass the patient or risk worsening its emotional distress by telling it that we knew or by making the knowledge public. If the circumstances are as you describe, the patient had every reason to destroy itself.
“But now,” O’Mara said, raising its voice slightly as if to emphasize the point, “we have to give it an even stronger reason to live whether or not the cranial surgery is successful. You and, if the situation was normal and you were not such a pig-headed, self-righteous trainee, I as your superior should be trying to discover such a reason. You are the sole channel of communication to the patient, and it is better that no other person, myself included, tries to usurp that position. But must I remind you that I am the Chief Psychologist of this weird and wonderful establishment, that I have much experience in prying into the minds of its even weirder staff, and that it is my right and your duty to keep me fully informed so that you can make full use of my experience while talking to this Groalterri. I shall be disappointed and seriously irritated with you if you pretend that the patient did not attempt suicide.
“And now,” he ended, “what exactly is this new and more serious problem with Hellishomar?”
For a moment Lioren sat in the quiet desperation of hope, afraid to answer the question in case there was no hope — or worse, that he would have to find the answer for himself. The Chief Psychologist’s face had grown pink with irritation at the delay when he spoke.
“The problem,” Lioren said, “is with me. I have to make a difficult decision.”
O’Mara sat back into its chair, features no longer discolored. “Go on. Is it difficult for you because it may involve breaking the patient’s confidence?”
“No!” Lioren said sharply. “I told you this is my problem. Maybe I should not ask your advice and risk making it yours.”
> The Chief Psychologist showed no sign of irritation at Lior-en’s insubordinate tone as it said, “And maybe I should not allow you any further contact with Hellishomar, once we have its permission for the operation. Placing together two beings who are so guilt-ridden that both would like nothing better than to end their own lives is a greater risk, to my mind, because the chances are even that the results could be beneficial or disastrous. So far you have managed to avoid a disaster. Please begin by telling me why you think that it is not my problem, and allow me to assess the risks.”
“But that would require a long explanation of the problem itself,” Lioren protested. “I would also have to include background information, much of which is speculative and probably inaccurate.”
O’Mara raised one hand from the desk and allowed it to fall again. “Take your time,” it said.
Lioren began by describing again the strange, age-segregated Groalterri culture, but he did not take much time because in the beginning he was repeating information that was already known, and O’Mara was not an Earth-human noted for its patience. He said that by virtue of their great size and unguessable abilities, the Parents controlled their population nondestructively and maintained their planet, its nonintelligent animal and vegetable and mineral resources in optimum condition, because they were an extremely long-lived species and this was the only world that they would ever have. On Groalter all life was of value and intelligent life was precious indeed. The control mechanisms, the laws that were to govern every day of a Groalterri’s incredibly long life, were taught by the Parents to the pre-adults, who passed them on to the younger Small down to the age when they first began to think and speak. These laws, which governed all future behavior on Groalter, were not physically enforced because the evidence pointed to this being a philosophically advanced and nonviolent race. The Small were taught, verbally when they were very young and telepathically as they approached adulthood, so thoroughly that the process more closely resembled deep conditioning. The guilt felt by a lawbreaker, and the punishment that it inflicted on itself, was of a degree of severity possible only to the recipient of the strictest and most comprehensive form of religious indoctrination.