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When it finally came, there was no message of congratulations, nor even any acknowledgment of the new contract. Instead, there was only a terse message:
PROCEED TO REFERENCE POINT 43621 SECTION XIX AND STAND BY FOR INSPECTION PARTY
Tiger took the message and read it in silence, then handed it to Dal.
"What do they say?" Jack said.
"Read it," Dal said. "They don't mention the contract, just an inspection party."
"Inspection party! Is that the best they can do for us?"
"They don't sound too enthusiastic," Tiger said. "At least you'd think they could acknowledge receipt of our report."
"It's probably just part of the routine," Dal said. "Maybe they want to confirm our reports from our own records before they commit themselves."
But he knew that he was only whistling in the dark. The moment he saw the terse message, he knew something had gone wrong with the contract.
There would be no notes of congratulation, no returning in triumph and honor to Hospital Earth.
Whatever the reason for the inspection party, Dal felt certain who the inspector was going to be.
It had been exciting to dream, but the scarlet cape and the silver star were still a long way out of reach.
CHAPTER 12
THE SHOWDOWN
It was hours later when their s.h.i.+p reached the contact point co-ordinates. There had been little talk during the transit; each of them knew already what the other was thinking, and there wasn't much to be said. The message had said it for them.
Dal's worst fears were realized when the inspection s.h.i.+p appeared, converting from Koenig drive within a few miles of the _Lancet_. He had seen the s.h.i.+p before--a sleek, handsomely outfitted patrol cla.s.s s.h.i.+p with the insignia of the Black Service of Pathology emblazoned on its hull, the private s.h.i.+p of a Four-star Black Doctor.
But none of them antic.i.p.ated the action taken by the inspection s.h.i.+p as it drew within lifeboat range of the _Lancet_.
A scooter shot away from its storage rack on the black s.h.i.+p, and a crew of black-garbed technicians piled into the _Lancet_'s entrance lock, dressed in the special decontamination suits worn when a s.h.i.+p was returning from a plague spot into uninfected territory.
"What is this?" Tiger demanded as the technicians started unloading decontamination gear into the lock. "What are you doing with that stuff?"
The squad leader looked at him sourly. "You're in quarantine, Doc," he said. "Cla.s.s I, all precautions, contact with unidentified pestilence.
If you don't like it, argue with the Black Doctor, I've just got a job to do."
He started shouting orders to his men, and they scattered throughout the s.h.i.+p, with blowers and disinfectants, driving antiseptic sprays into every crack and cranny of the s.h.i.+p's interior, scouring the hull outside in the rigid pattern prescribed for plague s.h.i.+ps. They herded the doctors into the decontamination lock, stripped them of their clothes, scrubbed them down and tossed them special sterilized fatigues to wear with masks and gloves.
"This is idiotic," Jack protested. "We aren't carrying any dangerous organisms!"
The squad leader shrugged indifferently. "Tell it to the Black Doctor, not me. All I know is that this s.h.i.+p is under quarantine until it's officially released, and from what I hear, it's not going to be released for quite some time."
At last the job was done, and the scooter departed back to the inspection s.h.i.+p. A few moments later they saw it returning, this time carrying just three men. In addition to the pilot and one technician, there was a single pa.s.senger: a portly figure dressed in a black robe, horn-rimmed gla.s.ses and cowl.
The scooter grappled the _Lancet_'s side, and Black Doctor Hugo Tanner climbed wheezing into the entrance lock, followed by the technician. He stopped halfway into the lock to get his breath, and paused again as the lock swung closed behind him. Dal was shocked at the physical change in the man in the few short weeks since he had seen him last. The Black Doctor's face was gray; every effort of movement brought on paroxysms of coughing. He looked sick, and he looked tired, yet his jaw was still set in angry determination.
The doctors stood at attention as he stepped into the control room, hardly able to conceal their surprise at seeing him. "Well?" the Black Doctor snapped at them. "What's the trouble with you? You act like you've seen a ghost or something."
"We--we'd heard that you were in the hospital, sir."
"Did you, now!" the Black Doctor snorted. "Hospital! Bah! I had to tell the press something to get the hounds off me for a while. These young puppies seem to think that a Black Doctor can just walk away from his duties any time he chooses to undergo their fancy surgical procedures.
And you know who's been screaming the loudest to get their hands on me.
The Red Service of Surgery, that's who!"
The Black Doctor glared at Dal Timgar. "Well, I dare say the Red Doctors will have their chance at me, all in good time. But first there are certain things which must be taken care of." He looked up at the attendant. "You're quite certain that the s.h.i.+p has been decontaminated?"
The attendant nodded. "Yes, sir."
"And the crewmen?"
"It's safe to talk to them, sir, as long as you avoid physical contact."
The Black Doctor grunted and wheezed and settled himself down in a seat.
"All right now, gentlemen," he said to the three, "let's have your story of this affair in the Brucker system, right from the start."
"But we sent in a full report," Tiger said.
"I'm aware of that, you idiot. I have waded through your report, all thirty-five pages of it, and I only wish you hadn't been so long-winded. Now I want to hear what happened directly from you. Well?"
The three doctors looked at each other. Then Jack began the story, starting with the first hesitant "greeting" that had come through to them. He told everything that had happened without embellishments: their first a.n.a.lysis of the nature of the problem, the biochemical and medical survey that they ran on the afflicted people, his own failure to make the diagnosis, the incident of Fuzzy's sudden affliction, and the strange solution that had finally come from it. As he talked the Black Doctor sat back with his eyes half closed, his face blank, listening and nodding from time to time as the story proceeded.
And Jack was carefully honest and fair in his account. "We were all of us lost, until Dal Timgar saw the significance of what had happened to Fuzzy," he said. "His idea of putting the creature through the filter gave us our first specimen of the isolated virus, and showed us how to obtain the antibody. Then after we saw what happened with our initial series of injections, we were really at sea, and by then we couldn't reach a hospital s.h.i.+p for help of any kind." He went on to relate Dal's idea that the virus itself might be the intelligent creature, and recounted the things that happened after Dal went down to talk to the spokesman again with Fuzzy on his shoulder.
Through it all the Black Doctor listened sourly, glancing occasionally at Dal and saying nothing. "So is that all?" he said when Jack had finished.
"Not quite," Jack said. "I want it to be on the record that it was my failure in diagnosis that got us into trouble. I don't want any misunderstanding about that. If I'd had the wit to think beyond the end of my nose, there wouldn't have been any problem."
"I see," the Black Doctor said. He pointed to Dal. "So it was this one who really came up with the answers and directed the whole program on this problem, is that right?"
"That's right," Jack said firmly. "He should get all the credit."
Something stirred in Dal's mind and he felt Fuzzy snuggling in tightly to his side. He could feel the cold hostility in the Black Doctor's mind, and he started to say something, but the Black Doctor cut him off.
"Do you agree to that also, Dr. Martin?" he asked Tiger.
"I certainly do," Tiger said. "I'll back up the Blue Doctor right down the line."
The Black Doctor smiled unpleasantly and nodded. "Well, I'm certainly happy to hear you say that, gentlemen. I might say that it is a very great relief to me to hear it from your own testimony. Because this time there shouldn't be any argument from either of you as to just where the responsibility lies, and I'm relieved to know that I can completely exonerate you two, at any rate."
Jack Alvarez's jaw went slack and he stared at the Black Doctor as though he hadn't heard him properly. "Exonerate us?" he said. "Exonerate us from what?"
"From the charges of incompetence, malpractice and conduct unbecoming to a physician which I am lodging against your colleague in the Red Service here," the Black Doctor said angrily. "Of course, I was confident that neither of you two could have contributed very much to this bungling mess, but it is rea.s.suring to have your own statements of that fact on the record. They should carry more weight in a Council hearing than any plea I might make in your behalf."