Mind Changer

CHAPTER 22

A few of the Kelgians at their table noticed the absence of Kledenth and talked about it and the artificial-gravity failure, but only among themselves. Plainly the news of the recreation-deck incident was not yet common knowledge, and O’Mara didn’t want to talk about it, either. In fact, except for the occasional polite monosyllable, he was refusing to talk about anything. Joan was beginning to look annoyed with him. Then suddenly she stared over his shoulders and smiled.

“If you’re still worrying about Kledenth? she said, “you can stop right now.”

He twisted around in his chair to see Dr. Sennelt and Kledenth picking their way between the tables toward them. The Kelgian undulated forward quickly and curled its body into its seat. It was the doctor who spoke first.

“You wanted me to tell you how my casualty was progressing, Lieutenant,” it said, “so I decided to show you instead. Kledenth is physically mobile and says that it is feeling well, but hungry. Clinically these are very good signs. It has absolutely nothing to worry about.”

It clicked a pincer in farewell and turned away.

Joan was still smiling, but not O’Mara. He was relieved, but at the same time he was inclined to distrust a well-meaning but overoptimistic ship’s doctor who could have only limited physiological knowledge and experience where an other-species patient was concerned. Similar thoughts must have been going through Joan’s mind.

“It’s great to have you back? she said. “But how are you really feeling?”

“How d’you think I’m feeling?” Kledenth replied in its ungracious Kelgian fashion. “I was sat on by a Tralthan, nearly drowned, my fur got wet all over and stuck to me for hours. It was a horrible sensation, like I’d suddenly lost the ability to communicate feelings. I’m feeling terrible, but all right. Kelgians don’t have much bone structure, except in the head, so we’re inclined to squish and bounce back instead of breaking up. Your concern is appreciated.”

O’Mara still wasn’t satisfied. He said, “Are you sure there are no symptoms of—”

“Lieutenant? Kledenth broke in. “You’re beginning to sound like Dr. Sennelt, who told me that you probably saved my life. For that favor I feel grateful, more grateful than I can say in simple, unsupported words to a being who is unable to read my fur. But this great favor I shall totally discount if you cause me to die of starvation. I need to eat, O’Mara, not talk.”

Both Earth-humans laughed and O’Mara found conversation easier as they continued the meal. Even Kledenth was talking as well as eating, but mostly to its same-species friends farther up the table. But his attention kept drifting from Joan to the animated fur of the Kelgian beside him. He thought she hadn’t noticed until she leaned suddenly toward him.

“O’Mara? she said quietly, “what the hell is bothering you?”

He forced a laugh that sounded hollow even to himself and said, “You mean, apart from you?”

She shook her head impatiently. “Unfortunately,” she said, “I don’t bother you, at least not very much. You’ve hardly taken your eyes off Kledenth since it arrived. Why?”

He hesitated and tried to choose words which would sound neither egocentric nor too critical of the ship doctor’s ability, which, he felt sure, would in ordinary circumstances have been adequate. O’Mara was a layman, after all, and not supposed to know anything about the subject. But he did know a lot about Kelgian physiology, every bit as much as his mind partner and top medical specialist knew, and he would be in serious trouble if he told anyone else how he knew it, because the Marrasarah mind tape should have been erased. The trouble was that when a Kelgian was apparently sharing his mind, it was very difficult to lie.

“Sennelt is a good enough doctor,” he said. “What worries me is that it might not know enough about Kelgian anatomy.”

“And you do?”

“Yes? he said.

She frowned at him for a moment, then said seriously, “Apart from a few hints about space construction work, for which you certainly have the muscles, you’ve been reticent about what exactly it is that you do. Are you a medic, or were you once a medic, but for some reason want to hide that fact?”

He shook his head. “I have no formal medical qualifications.”

“But you think you know enough about other-species first aid? she went on, “to second-guess the ship’s medical officer? What the hell do you do, exactly?”

O’Mara wished again that there weren’t a truth-telling Kelgian influencing so much of his mind.

“I’m a psychologist,” he said.

She sat back suddenly in her chair, her face reddening with anger and embarrassment. After a moment she said, “And in the way of psychologists, you have been calmly and clinically observing my behavior while I was trying to, to make a fool of myself over you?”

O’Mara shook his head and held her eyes for a long moment, then said quietly, “I was observing myself, not very calmly nor dinically, trying not to make a fool of myself over you.

She continued to stare at him without speaking, but her angry color was slowly returning to normal.

Apologetically, he went on, “I should have told you, I suppose. But I’m on leave and, well, nobody needed to know.” He smiled. “If it helps you feel any better about it, I’m an other-species psychologist.”

“An other-species…?” she began, then laughed quietly. “I think that makes me feel worse! But it explains your concern for Kledenth. Are you diagnosing a condition Sennelt missed purely from behavioral observation?”

“Not entirely? he replied, still telling the truth but not all of it. “In my job I’ve met, talked with, and come to know many Kelgians, one in particular very well, and I know how they feel and think. Kledenth may not yet be aware that there is anything wrong with it, but there is.

Joan’s anger and embarrassment had been replaced by interest now. She said, “If I understand you correctly, the compression of its body when the Tralthan fell on it, and the subsequent neardrowning, have caused a delayed-action but potentially severe emotional trauma. Are you trying to avoid or relieve this condition by tinkering with its mind?”

O’Mara shook his head. “Unfortunately? he said very seriously, “Kledenth’s condition is purely physical. If left untreated the emotional problems will surely follow.”

“Then I don’t understand you? said Joan. “Explain it to me.

He didn’t want to explain, because that would lead to telling her all about the mind-tape trials and virtually everything else about himself, but neither did he want to lie to her. He was saved from having to make the decision by Kledenth turning suddenly to rejoin the conversation.

“I thought I heard talking about me? it said. “Is it more interesting and important than the things these others are saying?”

“Probably not as interesting? O’Mara replied, slipping automatically into direct, Kelgian speech mode, “but certainly more important. Have you retold your adventure often enough, and heard enough praise and sympathy from your friends, to give us your undivided attention?”

Kledenth’s fur rose into irritated spikes, but Joan spoke before it could reply. Plainly she was happier with the more tactful and gentle approach.

“We were worried? she said, “in case you are not as well as Dr. Sennelt thinks you are. We think there may be aftereffects. To reassure us, the lieutenant wishes to ask you a few questions?”

“More than a few’ said O’Mara.

A new pattern of ripples disturbed Kledenth’s fur. It turned its attention from Joan and brought its small, cone-shaped head to within a few inches of O’Mara’s face and said, “Then ask them?

“Right? said O’Mara. “Your medial body and legs were pressed between the drowning Tralthan and the deck for a period of fourplus minutes before you were freed. Are you aware of any discomfort in these limbs, or from the muscles that operate them, or from the tegument overlaying those areas to which the fur is attached? Have you noticed any impairment of movement or lack of sensation in these limbs? Any feelings of surface pain, or tingling or any other unusual sensations from other parts of the body not directly affected by the temporary constriction? I realize that the recent nature of the incident and the associated emotional trauma means that there will be a psychological component in your relating of the symptoms. I shall make allowances for any emotional coloration, so be as objective or subjective as you wish. Speak.”

Joan was frowning again. “O’Mara, aren’t you being a little insensitive…?” she began, but Kledenth cut her off.

“I am aware of many aches and pains” it said. “They may be subjective but from inside they feel as objective as hell. The doctor didn’t ask as many questions as this. What’s wrong? You’re beginning to frighten me.

He could see that growing fear, or rather the memories and clinical experience of the top Kelgian surgeon in his mind enabled him to see and read it from the tight, uneven pattern of ripples that were agitating Kledenth’s fur.

“Fear” he said, “is a temporary condition which disappears when the cause and uncertainty associated with it is understood and removed. Your condition may or may not be temporary, that is what I’m trying to establish. What exactly did Sennelt say and, more important, do to you?”

“It said a lot,” the Kelgian replied, “mostly reassuring things and advice about taking it easy for a few days and not worrying. It went over me with one of those portable scanner things, then suspended me in null-G while it used a hot-air fan to dry my fur. It made me walk around sickbay and watched until I told it I felt hungry, then it brought me here. What else did you expect it to do?”

O’Mara paused for a moment, thinking about the limited facilities and, comparatively, nonspecialized and even more limited experience of a ship’s medic who was expected to know only a very little about everything. Sennelt was a good enough doctor, but Kreskhallar wasn’t Sector General.

“In the circumstances.” O’Mara replied, “nothing else. Before or during the drying of your fur did Sennelt spray it with any surface medication, conditioner, or similar substance?”

“No” said Kledenth. “I wouldn’t allow it. My fur needs no such enhancements.”

“I can see that.” said O’Mara. “It is remarkably beautiful and expressive fur. But when you arrived with Sennelt and during the initial conversation with your friends, I noticed a slowing in its overall mobility compared to my earlier observations of you. The fur’s reduced response time to vocal and emotional stimuli is minor and could be due simply to delayed shock or associated psychological factors stemming from your accident, but I’m not entirely satisfied with Sennelt’s prognosis and I intend—”

“You think there’s something wrong with my fur!” Kledenth broke in, its fur standing out in spikes of fear and anger. “But, but what do you know, you’re only a bloody policeman! And if you happen to be right, what can you do about it? O’Mara, you shouldn’t frighten me with talk like this.”

Everyone else at the table had stopped talking to watch, and the fur on the other Kelgian diners was twitching in sympathy with Kledenth’s distress. Even Joan, who was unable to read fur, had sensed Kledenth’s feelings and was staring furiously at him. O’Mara raised a hand quickly before she could speak, knowing that she would consider the gesture ill-mannered, but he needed a moment to regain control. For the past few minutes his mind partner had almost taken over.

He knew that the feeling was purely subjective because the mind tape impressed only the donor’s memories. But those memories had included personal experience with dysfunctional fur that it would not have wanted any other member of its species to share. But now it was time to stop thinking and talking like a Kelgian and to say some kindly, reassuring Earth-human words to the badly frightened Kledenth, even though he knew that the reassurance he would give would be less than honest.

“Right now I don’t know what I can do for you.” said O’Mara, “but I promise to do something. In a short time Joan and I will be talking to the captain, who considers that it owes us a favor. I shall ask it for a long consultation with Dr. Sennelt, during which I shall ask for answers to the questions that are troubling us both. It is possible that my worries are without foundation and the doctor will be able to set my mind at rest when, naturally, I shall pass the good news to you without delay. But until then try not to worry because there may not be anything to worry about ~

Kledenth said a word that their translators had not been programmed to handle and its fur began to settle into normal levels of mobility. But before it could go on, the other Kelgians at the table began asking it more questions about what might be wrong and it was suddenly too busy to talk to him. Joan was still looking unfriendly rather than angry. She didn’t speak to him either until they were in the corridor on the way to their appointment with the captain. It was probably subjective, he thought, but it felt as if the airconditioning temperature had been reduced by quite a few degrees.

She said, “You were unnecessarily rough on Kledenth, especially for someone who might not know what he’s talking about. Earlier you told me that you weren’t a medic. But you weren’t talking first aid back there. Is there something you’re keeping to yourself, and are you going to tell me about it?”

“No” said O’Mara.

“Then all I can say” she said coldly, “is that if you were a doctor, or maybe a medical student who couldn’t pass the finals, then they certainly failed you on your bedside manner?