"My husband wouldn't think so."
"I do not know what your husband would think. Perhaps he is not used to
seeing incomplete persons. He might even be horrified at the sight of
himself."
"I--I hadn't thought of that. But he--we'll both be all right?"
"As a medical problem, you offer no insuperable difficulty. None at
all."
"Why--why don't you give me eyes, if you can? Are you afraid--afraid
that I might see you and find you--terrifying?"
* * * * *
Again a pause. There was amusement in the reply. "I do not think so. No,
that is not the reason."
"Then it's because--as you said about Fred--I might find myself
horrifying?"
"That is part of the reason. Not the major part, however. You see, I am,
in a way, experimenting. Do not be alarmed, please--I shall not turn you
into a monster. I have too much knowledge of biology for that. But I am
not too familiar with human beings. What I know I have learned mostly
from your books, and I have found that in certain respects there are
inaccuracies contained in them--I must go slowly until I can check what
they say. I might mend certain organs, and then discover that they do
not have the proper size or shape, or that they produce slightly altered
hormones. I do not want to make such mistakes, and if I do make them, I
wish to correct them before they can do harm."
"There's no danger--?"
"None, I assure you. Internally and externally, you will be as before."
"Internally and externally. Will I--will I be able to have children?"
"Yes. We ourselves do not have your distinctions of sex, but we are
familiar with them in many other races. We know how important you
consider them. I am taking care to see that the proper glandular balance
is maintained in both yourself and your husband."
"Thank you--Doctor. But I still don't understand--why don't you give me
eyes right away?"
"I do not wish to give you eyes that see imperfectly, and then be forced
to take them away. Nor do I want you to watch imperfect arms and legs
developing. It would be an unnecessary ordeal. When I am sure that
everything is as it should be, then I shall start your eyes."
"And my husband--"
"He will be reconstructed in the same way. He will be brought in to talk
to you soon."
"And you don't want either of us to see the other in--in imperfect
condition?"
"It would be inadvisable. I can assure you now that when I have
completed your treatment you will almost exactly be as you were in the
beginning. When that time comes, you will be able to use your eyes."
She was silent a moment.
He said, "Your husband had other questions. I am waiting to hear you ask
them too."
"I'm sorry, Doctor ... I wasn't listening. What did you say?"
* * * * *
He repeated his remarks, and she said, "I do have other questions.
But--no, I won't ask them yet. What did my husband want to know?"
"About me and my race. How we happened to find you in time to save you.
_Why_ we saved you. What we intend to do with you after you are
reconstructed."
"Yes, I've wondered about those things too."
"I can give you only a partial answer. I hope you do not find it too
unsatisfactory. My race, as you may have gathered, is somewhat more
advanced than yours. We have had a head start," he added politely.
"If you can grow new arms and legs and eyes," she said, "you must be
thousands of years ahead of us."
"We can do many other things, of which there is no need to talk. All I
need say now is that I am a physician attached to a scouting expedition.
We have had previous contact with human beings, and have taken pains to
avoid coming to their attention. We do not want to alarm or confuse
them."
"But all the same, you rescued us."
"It was an emergency. We are not human, but we have, you might say,
humanitarian feelings. We do not like to see creatures die, even
inferior creatures--not that you are, of course," he added delicately.
"Our ship happened to be only a few thousand miles away when it
happened. We saw, and acted with great speed. Once you are whole again,
we shall place you where you will be found by your own kind, and proceed
on our way. By that time, our expedition will have been completed."
"When we are whole again--Doctor, will I be exactly the same as before?"
"In some ways, perhaps even better. I can assure you that all your
organs will function perfectly."
"I don't mean that. I mean--will I look the same?"
She felt that there was astonishment in the pause. "Look the same? Does
that matter?"
"Yes ... oh, yes, it matters! It matters more than anything else."
He must have been regarding her as if she were crazy. Suddenly she was
glad that she had no eyes to see his bewilderment. And his contempt,
which, she was sure, must be there too.
He said slowly, "I didn't realize. But, of course, we don't know how you
did look. How can we make you look the same?"
"I don't know. But you must! You must!" Her voice rose, and she felt the
pain in her throat as the new muscles constricted.
"You are getting hysterical," he said. "Stop thinking about this."
"But I can't stop thinking about it. It's the only thing I _can_ think
of! I don't want to look any different from the way I did before!"
He said nothing, and suddenly she felt tired. A moment before she had
been so excited, so upset; and now--merely tired and sleepy. She wanted
to go to sleep and forget it all. _He must have given me a sedative_,
she thought. _An injection? I didn't feel the prick of the needle, but
maybe they don't use needles. Anyway, I'm glad he did. Because now I
won't have to think, I won't be able to think--_
* * * * *
She slept. When she awoke again, she heard a new voice. A voice she
couldn't place. It said, "Hello, Margaret. Where are you?"
"Who ... Fred!"
"Margaret?"
"Y-yes."
"Your voice is different."
"So is yours. At first I couldn't think who was speaking to me!"
"It's strange it took us so long to realize that our voices would be
different."