by James White
“They — they forgave me and were grateful.
“But they were also fearful about the return to Cromsag,” he continued quickly. “They understood and were grateful for the rehabilitation program the Monitor Corps had planned for them and said that they would cooperate in every way. It is a psychological problem involving a disbelief in their own ability to exist without severe and continuous stress, coupled with a belief that fate, or a nonmaterial presence whose precise nature was the subject of much argument, might not intend them to live lives of contentment in the material world. Basically it was a religious matter. I told them about the racial memory of the Gogleskans, the Dark Devil which tries to drive them to self- destruction, and how Rhone is besting it. And about the problems of the Protectors of the Unborn, and gave what other reassurance I could. My report will cover everything that transpired in detail. I do not foresee the Corps psychologists having serious trouble with the problem. An ensuing religious debate, which the Cromsaggar engage in with great enthusiasm, was interrupted by the arrival of the guard.”
O’Mara leaned back into its chair and said, “Apart from taking that insane risk you have done well, but then fortune often favors the stupid. In a very short time you have also become something of an authority on other-species religious beliefs mostly, I have been told, by studying the available material during off-duty periods. This is a very sensitive area which the department normally prefers to leave untouched, but so far you have had no problems with it. So much so that you may now consider yourself to be a full member of the department staff rather than a trainee. This will in no sense improve my behavior toward you because you have become the second most insubordinate and selectively reticent person I have ever known. Why will you not tell me what went on between you and ex-Diagnostician Mannen?”
Lioren decided to treat it as a rhetorical question because he had refused to answer it the first time it had been asked. Instead he asked, “Are there any other assignments for me, sir?”
The Chief Psychologist exhaled with an unusually loud hissing sound, then said, “Yes. Senior Physician Edanelt would like you to talk to one of its post-op patients, Cresk-Sar has a trainee Dwerlan with a nonspecified ethical problem, and the Cromsaggar patients would like you to visit them as soon and as often as you find convenient. Khone says that it is willing to try my suggestion that the transparent wall dividing its compartment be reduced gradually in height and eventually replaced by a white line painted on the floor, and it wants to see you again, as well. There is also the original Seldal assignment, which you seem to have forgotten.”
“No, sir, I have completed it,” Lioren said, and went on quickly. “From the information given by yourself and my subsequent conversations with and about Senior Physician Seldal it was clear that a marked change in personality and behavior had taken place, although not for the worse. At first the change was apparent in the reduced number of couplings with female
Nallajims on the staff, and in its behavior toward colleagues and subordinates. Normally members of that species are physically and emotionally hyperactive, impatient, impolite, inconsiderate, and subject to the rapid changes of mood that make them very unpopular as surgeons-in-charge. Not so Seldal. Its OR and ward staff would do anything it asks and will not allow a word of criticism about their Senior either as a surgeon or a person, and I agree with them. The reason for the change, I am certain, is that one of the Educator-tape personalities Seldal is carrying has assumed partial control or is exerting a considerable amount of influence on the Senior’s mind.
“I did not realize that a Tralthan donor was responsible,” Lioren continued, “until the incident during the Hellishomar operation when the growth was threatening to get out of control and Conway needed help. Seldal had a moment of extreme stress and indecision during which it must have forgotten who it was. The remark about not wanting another set of big feet in the operative field was intended for Thornnastor, who had offered help, and referred to its six overly large Tralthan feet rather than Conway’s, because at that moment the Tralthan tape persona was in the forefront of its mind.
“This is an unusual and perhaps unique situation,” Lioren went on, “because observational evidence supports my theory that the partial control of Seldal’s mind was relinquished willingly. I would say that the Tralthan donor, rather than being kept under tight control by the host mind, has been befriended by Seldal. The feeling may be even stronger than that. There is professional respect, admiration of a personality that possesses the Tralthan attributes of inner calm and self-assurance that is so unlike Seldal’s own, and it is probable that a strong emotional bond has formed between the Senior Physician and this immaterial Tralthan that is indistinguishable from nonphysical love. As a result we have a Nallajim Senior who has willingly assumed the personality traits of a Tralthan and is a better physician and a more content person because of it. That being so I would recommend that nothing whatever be done about the case.”
“Agreed,” O’Mara said quietly, and for a moment it stared at him in a way which made Lioren wonder again if the Chief Psychologist possessed a telepathic faculty. “There is more?”
“I do not wish to embarrass and perhaps anger a superior, by asking this as a question,” Lioren said carefully, “but I have formed a suspicion that you, having knowledge of the donor tapes in the Senior Physician’s mind, suspected or were already aware of the situation and the Seldal assignment was a fitness test for myself. Its secondary, or perhaps its primary, purpose was to try to make me go out and meet people so that my mind would not be concerned solely with thoughts of my own terrible guilt. I have not nor will I ever be able to forget the Cromsag Incident. But your plan worked and for that I am truly grateful to you, and especially for making me realize that there were people other than myself who were troubled, entities like Khone, Hellishomar, and Mannen who—”
“Mannen is a friend,” O’Mara broke in. “His clinical condition has not changed, he could terminate at any moment, and yet he is going around in that antigravity harness like a … Dammit, it’s a bloody miracle! I would like to know what you said to each other. Anything you tell me will not go into his psych file and I will not speak of it to anyone else, but I want to know. Termination comes to everyone and some of us, unfortunately, may be given too much time to think about it. I will not break this confidence. After all, he is an old friend.”
The question was being asked again, but his momentary feeling of irritation was quickly replaced by one of sympathy as he realized that the Chief Psychologist was troubled, however briefly, by the thought of termination and the deterioration of the body and mind which preceded it. His answer must be the same as before, but this time Lioren believed that he could make it more encouraging.
“The ex-Diagnostician is no longer troubled in its mind,” he said gently. “If you were to ask your questions of Mannen, as an old friend, I feel sure that it will tell you everything you want to know. But I cannot.”
The Chief Psychologist looked down at his desk as if ashamed of its momentary display of weakness, then up again.
“Very well,” it said briskly. “If you won’t talk you won’t talk. Meanwhile the department will have to contend with another soft-spoken, insubordinate Carmody. No disciplinary action will be taken over your Cromsaggar ward visit. Close the door on your way out. Quietly.”
Lioren returned to his desk feeling relieved but very confused, and decided that he must try to relieve the confusion; otherwise the quality of his report would suffer. But search as he would, the information he wanted remained hidden, and he was beginning to strike his keyboard as if it were a mortal enemy.
Across the office Braithwaite cleared its breathing passages with a noise which Lioren now knew denoted sympathy. “You have a problem?”
“I’m not sure,” Lioren replied. “O’Mara said that it would take no disciplinary action, but it called me … Who or what is a Carmody, and where will I find the information?”
Braithwaite
swung round to face him and said, “You won’t find it there. Lieutenant Carmody’s file was withdrawn after his accident. He was before my time but I know a little about him. He came here from the Corps base on Orligia at his own request and managed to survive in the department for twelve years even though he and O’Mara were always arguing. When an incoming ship whose pilot was badly injured lost control and crashed through our outer hull, he accompanied the rescue team and tried to give reassurance to what he thought was a surviving crewmember. It turned out to be a very large, fear-maddened and nonintelligent ship’s pet, which attacked him. He was very old and frail and gentle, and did not survive his injuries.
“During his time here Lieutenant Carmody became very well liked and highly respected by all of the staff and long-term patients,” Braithwaite concluded, “and his position was not filled, until now.”
Feeling even more confused, Lioren said, “The relevance of what you say eludes me. I am neither old nor frail nor particularly gentle, I have been stripped of all Monitor Corps rank, and my arguments with O’Mara are concerned only with the retention of patient confidences—”
“I know,” said Braithwaite, showing its teeth. “Your predecessor called it the Seal of Confession. And the rank doesn’t matter. Carmody never used his, and most of the people here did not even use his name. They just called him Padre.”
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