THE INQUISITION
The interview was held in the main council chambers of Hospital Seattle,
and Dal could feel the tension the moment he stepped into the room. He
looked at the long semicircular table, and studied the impassive faces
of the four-star Physicians across the table from him.
Each of the major medical services was represented this morning. In the
center, presiding over the council, was a physician of the White
Service, a Four-star Radiologist whose insignia gleamed on his
shoulders. There were two physicians each, representing the Red Service
of Surgery, the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of
Diagnosis, and finally, seated at either end of the table, the
representatives of the Black Service of Pathology. Black Doctor Thorvold
Arnquist sat to Dal's left; he smiled faintly as the young Garvian
stepped forward, then busied himself among the papers on the desk before
him. To Dal's right sat another Black Doctor who was not smiling.
Dal had seen him before--the chief co-ordinator of medical education on
Hospital Earth, the "Black Plague" of the medical school jokes. Black
Doctor Hugo Tanner was large and florid of face, blinking owlishly at
Dal over his heavy horn-rimmed glasses. The glasses were purely
decorative; with modern eye-cultures and transplant techniques, no
Earthman had really needed glasses to correct his vision for the past
two hundred years, but on Hugo Tanner's angry face they added a look of
gravity and solemnity that the Black Doctor could not achieve without
them. Still glaring at Dal, Doctor Tanner leaned over to speak to the
Blue Doctor on his right, and they nodded and laughed unpleasantly at
some private joke.
There was no place for him to sit, so Dal stood before the table, as
straight as his five-foot height would allow him. He had placed Fuzzy
almost defiantly on his shoulder, and from time to time he could feel
the little creature quiver and huddle against his neck as though to hide
from sight under his collar.
The White Doctor opened the proceedings, and at first the questions were
entirely medical. "We are meeting to consider this student's application
for assignment to a General Practice Patrol ship, as a probationary
physician in the Red Service of Surgery. I believe you are all
acquainted with his educational qualifications?"
There was an impatient murmur around the table. The White Doctor looked
up at Dal. "Your name, please?"
"Dal Timgar, sir."
"Your _full_ name," Black Doctor Tanner rumbled from the right-hand end
of the table.
Dal took a deep breath and began to give his full Garvian name. It was
untranslatable and unpronounceable to Earthmen, who could not reproduce
the sequence of pops and whistles that made up the Garvian tongue. The
doctors listened, blinking, as the complex family structure and
ancestry which entered into every Garvian's full name continued to roll
from Dal's lips. He was entering into the third generation removed of
his father's lineage when Doctor Tanner held up his hand.
"All right, all right! We will accept the abbreviated name you have used
on Hospital Earth. Let it be clear on the record that the applicant is a
native of the second planet of the Garv system." The Black Doctor
settled back in his chair and began whispering again to the Blue Doctor
next to him.
A Green Doctor cleared his throat. "Doctor Timgar, what do you consider
to be the basic principle that underlies the work and services of
physicians of Hospital Earth?"
It was an old question, a favorite on freshman medical school
examinations. "The principle that environments and life forms in the
universe may be dissimilar, but that biochemical reactions are universal
throughout creation," Dal said slowly.
"Well memorized," Black Doctor Tanner said sourly. "What does it mean?"
"It means that the principles of chemistry, physiology, pathology and
the other life sciences, once understood, can be applied to any living
creature in the universe, and will be found valid," Dal said. "As
different as the various life forms may be, the basic life processes in
one life form are the same, under different conditions, as the life
processes in any other life form, just as hydrogen and oxygen will
combine to form water anywhere in the universe where the proper physical
conditions prevail."
"Very good, very good," the Green Doctor said. "But tell me this: what
in your opinion is the place of surgery in a Galactic practice of
medicine?"
A more difficult question, but one that Dal's training had prepared him
well to answer. He answered it, and faced another question, and another.
One by one, the doctors interrogated him, Black Doctor Arnquist among
them. The questions came faster and faster; some were exceedingly
difficult. Once or twice Dal was stopped cold, and forced to admit that
he did not know the answer. Other questions which he knew would stop
other students happened to fall in fields he understood better than
most, and his answers were full and succinct.
But finally the questioning tapered off, and the White Doctor shuffled
his papers impatiently. "If there are no further medical questions, we
can move on to another aspect of this student's application. Certain
questions of policy have been raised. Black Doctor Tanner had some
things to say, I believe, as co-ordinator of medical education."
The Black Doctor rose ponderously to his feet. "I have some things to
say, you can be sure of that," he said, "but they have nothing to do
with this Dal Timgar's educational qualifications for assignment to a
General Practice Patrol ship." Black Doctor Tanner paused to glare in
Dal's direction. "He has been trained in a medical school on Hospital
Earth, and apparently has passed his final qualifying examinations for
the Red Service of Surgery. I can't argue about that."
Black Doctor Arnquist's voice came across the room. "Then why are we
having his review, Hugo? Dal Timgar's classmates all received their
assignments automatically."
"Because there are other things to consider here than educational
qualifications," Hugo Tanner said. "Gentlemen, consider our position for
a moment. We have thousands of probationary physicians abroad in the
galaxy at the present time, fine young men and women who have been
trained in medical schools on Hospital Earth, and now are gaining
experience and judgment while fulfilling our medical service contracts
in every part of the confederation. They are probationers, but we must
not forget that we physicians of Hospital Earth are also probationers.
We are seeking a permanent place in this great Galactic Confederation,
which was in existence many thousands of years before we even knew of
its existence. It was not until our own scientists discovered the Koenig
star-drive, enabling us to break free of our own solar system, that we
were met face to face with a confederation of intelligent races
inhabiting the galaxy--among others, the people from whom this same Dal
Timgar has come."
"The history is interesting," Black Doctor Arnquist broke in, "but
really, Hugo, I think most of us know it already."
"Maybe we do," Doctor Tanner said, flushing a little. "But the history
is significant. Permanent membership in the confederation is contingent
on two qualifications. First, we must have developed a star-drive of our
own, a qualification of intelligence, if you will. The confederation has
ruled that only races having a certain level of intelligence can become
members. A star-drive could only be developed with a far-reaching
understanding of the physical sciences, so this is a valid criterion of
intelligence. But the second qualification for confederation membership
is nothing more nor less than a question of usefulness."
The presiding White Doctor looked up, frowning. "Usefulness?"
"Exactly. The Galactic Confederation, with its exchange of ideas and
talents, and all the wealth of civilization it has to offer, is based on
a division of labor. Every member must have something to contribute,
some special talent. For Earthmen, the talent was obvious very early.
Our technology was primitive, our manufacturing skills mediocre, our
transport and communications systems impossible. But in our
understanding of the life sciences, we have far outstripped any other
race in the galaxy. We had already solved the major problems of disease
and longevity among our own people, while some of the most advanced
races in the confederation were being reduced to helplessness by cyclic
plagues which slaughtered their populations, and were caused by nothing
more complex than a simple parasitic virus. Garv II is an excellent
example."
One of the Red Doctors cleared his throat. "I'm afraid I don't quite see
the connection. Nobody is arguing about our skill as doctors."
"Of course not," Black Doctor Tanner said. "The point is that in all the
galaxy, Earthmen are by their very nature the _best_ doctors,
outstripping the most advanced physicians on any other planet. And this,
gentlemen, is our bargaining point. We are useful to the Galactic
Confederation only as physicians. The confederation needed us badly
enough to admit us to probational membership, but if we ever hope to
become full members of the confederation, we must demonstrate our
usefulness, our unique skill, as physicians. We have worked hard to
prove ourselves. We have made Hospital Earth the galactic center of
study and treatment of diseases of many races. Earthmen on the General
Practice Patrol ships visit planets in the remotest sections, and their
reputation as physicians has grown. Every year new planets are writing
full medical service contracts with us ... as Earthmen serving the
galaxy--"
"As _physicians_ serving the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist's voice shot
across the room.
"As far as the confederation has been concerned, the two have been
synonymous," Hugo Tanner roared. "_Until now._ But now we have an alien
among us. We have allowed a non-Earthman to train in our medical
schools. He has completed the required work, his qualifications are
acceptable, and now he proposes to go out on a patrol ship as a
physician of the Red Service of Surgery. But think of what you are doing
if you permit him to go! You will be proving to every planet in the
confederation that they don't really need Earthmen after all, that any
race from any planet might produce physicians just as capable as
Earthmen."
The Black Doctor turned slowly to face Dal, his mouth set in a grim
line. As he talked, his face had grown dark with anger. "Understand that
I have nothing against this creature as an individual. Perhaps he would
prove to be a competent physician, although I cannot believe it. Perhaps
he would carry on the traditions of medical service we have worked so
long to establish, although I doubt it. But I do know that if we permit
him to become a qualified physician, it will be the beginning of the end
for Hospital Earth. We will be selling out our sole bargaining position.
We can forget our hopes for membership in the confederation, because one
like him this year will mean two next year, and ten the next, and there
will be no end to it. We should have stopped it eight years ago, but
certain ones prevailed to admit Dal Timgar to training. If we do not
stop it now, for all time, we will never be able to stop it."
Slowly the Black Doctor sat down, motioning to an orderly at the rear of
the room. The orderly brought a glass of water and a small capsule which
Black Doctor Tanner gulped down. The other doctors were talking heatedly
among themselves as Black Doctor Arnquist rose to his feet. "Then you
are claiming that our highest calling is to keep medicine in the hands
of Earthmen alone?" he asked softly.
Doctor Tanner flushed. "Our highest calling is to provide good medical
care for our patients," he said.
"The best possible medical care?"
"I never said otherwise."
"And yet you deny the ancient tradition that a physician's duty is to
help his patients help themselves," Black Doctor Arnquist said.
"I said no such thing!" Hugo Tanner cried, jumping to his feet. "But we
must protect ourselves. We have no other power, nothing else to sell."
"And I say that if we must sell our medical skill for our own benefit
first, then we are not worthy to be physicians to anyone," Doctor
Arnquist snapped. "You make a very convincing case, but if we examine it
closely, we see that it amounts to nothing but fear and selfishness."
"Fear?" Doctor Tanner cried. "What do we have to fear if we can maintain
our position? But if we must yield to a Garvian who has no business in
medicine in the first place, what can we have left but fear?"
"If I were really convinced that Earthmen were the best physicians in
the galaxy," Black Doctor Arnquist replied, "I don't think I'd have to
be afraid."
The Black Doctor at the end of the table stood up, shaking with rage.
"Listen to him!" he cried to the others. "Once again he is defending
this creature and turning his back on common sense. All I ask is that we
keep our skills among our own people and avoid the contamination that
will surely result--"
Doctor Tanner broke off, his face suddenly white. He coughed, clutching
at his chest, and sank down groping for his medicine box and the water
glass. After a moment he caught his breath and shook his head. "There's
nothing more I can say," he said weakly. "I have done what I could, and
the decision is up to the rest of you." He coughed again, and slowly the
color came back into his face. The Blue Doctor had risen to help him,
but Tanner waved him aside. "No, no, it's nothing. I allowed myself to
become angry."
Black Doctor Arnquist spread his hands. "Under the circumstances, I
won't belabor the point," he said, "although I think it would be good if
Doctor Tanner would pause in his activities long enough for the surgery
that would make his anger less dangerous to his own life. But he
represents a view, and his right to state it is beyond reproach." Doctor
Arnquist looked from face to face along the council table. "The decision
is yours, gentlemen, I would ask only that you consider what our highest
calling as physicians really is--a duty that overrides fear and
selfishness. I believe Dal Timgar would be a good physician, and that
this is more important than the planet of his origin. I think he would
uphold the honor of Hospital Earth wherever he went, and give us his
loyalty as well as his service. I will vote to accept his application,
and thus cancel out my colleague's negative vote. The deciding votes
will be cast by the rest of you."
He sat down, and the White Doctor looked at Dal Timgar. "It would be
good if you would wait outside," he said. "We will call you as soon as a
decision is reached."
* * * * *
Dal waited in an anteroom, feeding Fuzzy and trying to put out of his
mind for a moment the heated argument still raging in the council
chamber. Fuzzy was quivering with fright; unable to speak, the tiny
creature nevertheless clearly experienced emotions, even though Dal
himself did not know how he received impressions, nor why.
But Dal knew that there was a connection between the tiny pink
creature's emotions and the peculiar talent that Black Doctor Arnquist
had spoken of the night before. It was not a telepathic power that Dal
and his people possessed. Just _what_ it was, was difficult to define,
yet Dal knew that every Garvian depended upon it to some extent in
dealing with people around him. He knew that when Fuzzy was sitting on
his arm he could sense the emotions of those around him--the anger, the
fear, the happiness, the suspicion--and he knew that under certain
circumstances, in a way he did not clearly understand, he could wilfully
change the feelings of others toward himself. Not a great deal, perhaps,
nor in any specific way, but just enough to make them look upon him and
his wishes more favorably than they otherwise might.
Throughout his years on Hospital Earth he had vigilantly avoided using
this strange talent. Already he was different enough from Earthmen in
appearance, in ways of thinking, in likes and dislikes. But these
differences were not advantages, and he had realized that if his
classmates had ever dreamed of the advantage that he had, minor as it
was, his hopes of becoming a physician would have been destroyed
completely.
And in the council room he had kept his word to Doctor Arnquist. He had
felt Fuzzy quivering on his shoulder; he had sensed the bitter anger in
Black Doctor Tanner's mind, and the temptation deliberately to mellow
that anger had been almost overwhelming, but he had turned it aside. He
had answered questions that were asked him, and listened to the debate
with a growing sense of hopelessness.
And now the chance was gone. The decision was being made.
He paced the floor, trying to remember the expressions of the other
doctors, trying to remember what had been said, how many had seemed
friendly and how many hostile, but he knew that only intensified the
torture. There was nothing he could do now but wait.
At last the door opened, and an orderly nodded to him. Dal felt his legs
tremble as he walked into the room and faced the semi-circle of doctors.
He tried to read the answer on their faces, but even Black Doctor
Arnquist sat impassively, doodling on the pad before him, refusing to
meet Dal's eyes.
The White Doctor took up a sheet of paper. "We have considered your
application, and have reached a decision. You will be happy to know that
your application for assignment has been tentatively accepted."
Dal heard the words, and it seemed as though the room were spinning
around him. He wanted to shout for joy and throw his arms around Black
Doctor Arnquist, but he stood perfectly still, and suddenly he noticed
that Fuzzy was very quiet on his shoulder.
"You will understand that this acceptance is not irrevocable," the White
Doctor went on. "We are not willing to guarantee your ultimate
acceptance as a fully qualified Star Surgeon at this point. You will be
allowed to wear a collar and cuff, uniform and insignia of a
probationary physician, in the Red Service, and will be assigned aboard
the General Practice Patrol ship _Lancet_, leaving from Hospital Seattle
next Tuesday. If you prove your ability in that post, your performance
will once again be reviewed by this board, but you alone will determine
our decision then. Your final acceptance as a Star Surgeon will depend
entirely upon your conduct as a member of the patrol ship's crew." He
smiled at Dal, and set the paper down. "The council wishes you well. Do
you have any questions?"
"Just one," Dal managed to say. "Who will my crewmates be?"
"As is customary, a probationer from the Green Service of Medicine and
one from the Blue Service of Diagnosis. Both have been specially
selected by this council. Your Blue Doctor will be Jack Alvarez, who has
shown great promise in his training in diagnostic medicine."
"And the Green Doctor?"
"A young man named Frank Martin," the White Doctor said. "Known to his
friends, I believe, as 'Tiger.'"