"No," said Calhoun, again gently. "When you ordered all ships alerted
for action, the Darians on each ship released panic gas. They only
needed tiny, pocket-sized containers of the gas for the job. They had
them. They only needed to use air tanks from their sag-suits to
protect themselves against the gas. They kept them handy.
"On nearly all your ships aloft your crews are crazy from panic gas.
They'll stay that way until the air is changed. Darians have
barricaded themselves in the control rooms of most if not all your
ships. You haven't got a fleet. The few ships who will obey your
orders--if they drop one bomb, our fleet off Weald will drop fifty.
"I don't think you'd better order offensive action. Instead, I think
you'd better have your fleet medical officers come and learn some of
the facts of life. There's no need for war between Dara and Weald, but
if you insist...."
The admiral made a choking noise. He could have ordered Calhoun
killed, but there was a certain appalling fact. The men aground from
the fleet were breathing Wealdian air from tanks. It would last so
long only. If they were taken on board the still obedient ships
overhead, Darians would unquestionably be mixed with them. There was
no way to take off the parties now aground without exposing them to
contact with Darians, on the ground or in the ships. There was no way
to sort out the Darians.
"I--I will give the orders," said the admiral thickly. "I do not know
what you devils plan, but--I do not know how to stop you."
"All that's necessary," said Calhoun warmly, "is an open mind. There's
a misunderstanding to be cleared up, and some principles of planetary
health practises to be explained, and a certain amount of prejudice
that has to be thrown away. But nobody need die of changing their
minds. The Interstellar Medical Service has proved that over and
over!"
Murgatroyd, perched on his shoulder, felt that it was time to take
part in the conversation. He said, "_Chee-chee!_"
"Yes," agreed Calhoun. "We do want to get the job done. We're behind
schedule now."
* * * * *
It was not, of course, possible for Calhoun to leave immediately. He
had to preside at various meetings of the medical officers of the
fleet and the health officials of Dara. He had to make explanations,
and correct misapprehensions, and delicately suggest such biological
experiments as would prove to the doctors of Weald that there was no
longer a plague on Dara, whatever had been the case three generations
before.
He had to sit by while an extremely self-confident young Darian
doctor--one of his names was Korvan--rather condescendingly
demonstrated that the former blue pigmentation was a viral product
quite unconnected with the plague, and that it had been wiped out by a
very trivial epidemic of such and such.
Calhoun regarded that young man with a detached interest. Maril
thought him wonderful, even if she had to give him the material for
his work. He agreed with her that he was wonderful. Calhoun shrugged
and went on with his own work.
The return of loot, mutual, full, and complete agreement that Darians
were no longer carriers of plague, if they had ever been--unless Weald
convinced other worlds of this, Weald itself would join Dara in
isolation from neighboring worlds. A messenger ship had to recall the
twenty-seven ships once floating in orbit about Weald. Most of them
would be used for some time, to bring beef from Orede. Some would haul
more grain from Weald. It would be paid for. There would be a need for
commercial missions to be exchanged between Weald and Dara. There
would have to be....
It was a full week before he could go to the little Med Ship and
prepare for departure. Even then there were matters to be attended to.
All the food-supplies that had been removed could not be replaced.
There were biological samples to be replaced and some to be destroyed.
Maril came to the Med Ship again when he was almost ready to leave.
She did not seem comfortable.
"I wanted you to meet Korvan," she said regretfully.
"I met him," said Calhoun. "I think he will be a most prominent
citizen, in time. He has all the talents for it."
Maril smiled very faintly.
"But you don't admire him."
"I wouldn't say that," protested Calhoun. "After all, he is desirable
to you, which is something I couldn't manage."
"You didn't try," said Maril. "Just as I didn't try to be fascinating
to you. Why?"
Calhoun spread out his hands. But he looked at Maril with respect. Not
every woman could have faced the fact that a man did not feel impelled
to make passes at her. It is simply a fact that has nothing to do with
desirability or charm or anything else.
"You're going to marry him," he said. "I hope you'll be very happy."
"He's the man I want," said Maril frankly. "And I doubt he'll ever
look at another woman. He looks forward to splendid discoveries. I
wish he didn't."
Calhoun did not ask the obvious question. Instead, he said
thoughtfully, "There's something you could do. It needs to be done.
The Med Service in this sector has been badly handled. There are a
number of discoveries that need to be made. I don't think your Korvan
would relish having things handed to him on a visible silver platter.
But they should be known...."
Maril said, "I can guess what you mean. I dropped hints about the way
the blueskin markings went away, yes. You've got books for me?"
Calhoun nodded. He found them.
"If we had only fallen in love with each other, Maril, we'd be a team!
Too bad! These are a wedding present you'll do well to hide."
She put her hands in his.
"I like you almost as much as I like Murgatroyd! Yes! Korvan will
never know, and he'll be a great man." Then she added defensively,
"But I don't think he'll only discover things from hints I drop him.
He'll make wonderful discoveries."
"Of which," said Calhoun, "the most remarkable is you. Good luck,
Maril!"
She went away smiling. But she wiped her eyes when she was out of the
ship.
Presently the Med Ship lifted. Calhoun aimed it for the next planet on
the list of those he was to visit. After this one more he'd return to
sector headquarters with a biting report to make on the way things had
been handled before him.
"Overdrive coming, Murgatroyd!"
Then the stars went out and there was silence, and privacy, and a
faint, faint, almost unbearable series of background sounds which kept
the Med Ship from being totally unendurable.
Long, long days later the ship broke out of overdrive and Calhoun
guided it to a round and sunlit world. In due time he thumbed the
communicator button.
"Calling ground," he said crisply. "Calling ground! Med Ship
_Aesclipus Twenty_ reporting arrival and asking coordinates for
landing. Purpose of landing is planetary health inspection. Our mass
is fifty standard tons."
There was a pause while the beamed message went many, many thousands
of miles. Then the speaker said, "_Aesclipus Twenty_, repeat your
identification!"
Calhoun repeated it patiently. Murgatroyd watched with bright eyes.
Perhaps he hoped to be allowed to have another long conversation with
somebody by communicator.
"You are warned," said the communicator sternly, "that any deceit or
deception about your identity or purpose in landing will be severely
punished. We take few chances, here! If you wish to land
notwithstanding this warning--"
"I'm coming in," said Calhoun. "Give me the coordinates."
He wrote them down. His expression was slightly pained. The Med Ship
drove on, in solar system drive. Murgatroyd said, "_Chee-chee? Chee?_"
Calhoun sighed.
"That's right, Murgatroyd! Here we go again!"
* * * * *