"Dr. Hoyt just came from Earth," Dr. Kalmar cut in at last, before a
brawl could start. "He's not familiar with our methods."
"Let's hear the cockeyed reason," Dr. Hoyt said resignedly.
"We keep our population balanced," said Dr. Kalmar. "Too many of either
sex creates tension, hostility, loss of efficiency; look at Earth if you
want proof. We can't risk even a little of that, so we use prenatal sex
control to keep them exactly equal."
"There's a wife for every man," Mr. Fallon put in genially, "and a
husband for every woman. Works out fine."
"With no surplus," Dr. Kalmar added. "There are no floaters to allow the
kind of marital moving day you have on Earth, where so many just up and
shift over to new mates. We get ours for life. That's where Ego Alter
and Rephysical come in."
"You mean people bring in their mates to have them done over?"
"If they're not satisfied and if the mates agree to be changed."
"I don't mind," said Mr. Fallon virtuously. "I figure Mabel will decide
what she wants one of these changes, and then we can settle down and be
happy with each other."
"But what about you?" asked Dr. Hoyt, bewildered. "Don't you want her
changed?"
"Oh, no. I like her fine just as she is."
"You see now how it works?" Dr. Kalmar asked. "We can't have a variety
of mates, but we can have all the variety we want in one mate. It comes
to the same thing, as far as I can see, and causes much less confusion,
especially since we need stable relationships."
Dr. Hoyt was striving heroically to stay indignant in spite of the
sedative. "And do many ask to have their mates changed?"
"I guess we're a sort of record, aren't we?" Mr. Fallon boasted.
"I guess you are," agreed Dr. Kalmar. "And now, Dr. Hoyt, if there
aren't any more questions, I'd like to proceed with this couple."
Dr. Hoyt stretched his eyes wide to keep them open. "It's all screwy to
me, but it's none of my business. As soon as I finish my internship, I'm
heading back to Earth, where things make sense, so I don't have to
understand this mishmash you call a planet. Need help?"
"If you'd find out what Mrs. Fallon has in mind this time, it would let
me run the patients through a lot faster."
"How would they feel about it?" Dr. Hoyt asked.
"It's all right with me," Mr. Fallon said amiably. "I'm pretty used to
this, you know."
"But what are we going to make you look like, Harry?" his wife fretted.
"I felt very jealous of other women when you were handsome and I didn't
like you just ordinary-looking."
"Why not go through the model book with Dr. Hoyt?" suggested Dr. Kalmar.
"There are still some types you haven't tried."
"There _are_?" she asked in gratified astonishment. "Would you mind very
much, Dr. Hoyt?"
"Glad to," he said.
Miss Dupont brought out the model book for him, and he and Mrs. Fallon
studied the facial and physical types that were very explicitly
illustrated there in three-dimensional full color. Mr. Fallon,
contentedly working out math problems on a sheet of paper, left the
choice entirely to her.
* * * * *
Meanwhile, Dr. Kalmar and Miss Dupont swiftly took care of a succession
of other patients, raising the tolerance level of frustration in a
watchmaker, replating the acne-pitted skin of a sensitive youth,
restoring a finger lost in a machine-shop accident, and building up
good-natured aggression in an ore miner whose productivity had slumped.
Mrs. Fallon still hadn't decided when the last patient had been taken
care of. She said unhappily, "I don't know. I simply absolutely don't
know. Couldn't you suggest _something_, Dr. Hoyt?"
"Wouldn't be ethical," he told her bluntly. "Not allowed to."
Dr. Kalmar, checking the Social Control papers with Miss Dupont,
wondered if he should interfere. It would lower confidence in Dr. Hoyt,
which meant that people would insist on Dr. Kalmar's treating them.
Then, instead of having an assistant to remove some of the load, he'd
have to do the work of two men. He decided to let the young doctor
handle it.
But Dr. Hoyt stood up in exasperation, slammed the book shut, and said,
"Mrs. Fallon, if you know what you want, I'll be glad to oblige. But I'm
not a telepathy--"
"Is there anything I can do?" Dr. Kalmar interrupted quickly, before his
assistant could create any more damage.
"He doesn't have to get huffy," Mrs. Fallon said indignantly. "All I
asked for was a suggestion or two."
"Insult my wife, will he?" Mr. Fallon belligerently added.
"It's my fault," Dr. Kalmar said. "Dr. Hoyt just got in today from Earth
and he's tired and he naturally doesn't understand all our ways yet--"
"_Yet?_" Dr. Hoyt repeated in disgust. "What makes you think I'll
ever--"
"And I shouldn't have burdened him with this problem until he's had a
chance to rest up and look around," Dr. Kalmar continued in a slightly
louder voice. "Now, let's see if we can't settle this problem before
closing time, eh?"
The Fallons subsided, Dr. Hoyt watched with a sarcastic eye, though he
kept silent as Dr. Kalmar and Miss Dupont, working as a shrewd team,
gave them the suggestion they had been looking for. It was all done very
smoothly, so smoothly that Dr. Kalmar felt professional pride because
even his stiff-necked assistant was unable to detect the fact that it
_was_ a suggestion.
Dr. Kalmar got Mrs. Fallon to reminisce about the alterations her
husband had undergone, and Miss Dupont promptly agreed with her when she
explained why each had been unsatisfactory. It took some time, but he
eventually brought her back to what Mr. Fallon had looked like when
she'd first married him.
"Now, isn't that the strangest thing?" she said, puzzled. "I can't
remember. Can you, dear?"
"It's a little mixed up," Mr. Fallon admitted. "Let's see, I know I was
taller and I think I had a long, thin face--"
"Oh, we don't have to guess," Dr. Kalmar said. "Nurse, we have the
information on file, don't we?"
"Yes, Doctor," she said, and instantly produced a photograph. They
evidently thought it was merely filing efficiency; they hadn't noticed
her searching for the picture quietly while Dr. Kalmar had been leading
them on. He had, in fact, delayed asking her until she'd nodded to
indicate that she had found it.
Mr. Fallon frowned as if he'd recognized the face but couldn't remember
the name. His wife gave a little shriek of admiration.
"Why, Harry, you looked perfectly wonderful!"
"Those deep dimples made shaving pretty hard," he recalled.
"But they're _darling_! Why did you ever let me change you?"
"Because I wanted you to be happy, sweet."
It was as simple as that--a bit of practical psychology based on
knowledge of the patients. Dr. Kalmar wished wistfully that old Dr.
Lowell had been there to observe. He would have approved, which might
have made up for Dr. Hoyt's unpleasant expression.
"I hope this is the one you want," Dr. Kalmar said as he took them to
the front door after the rephysical.
"Goodness, I hope so!" Mrs. Fallon exclaimed. She looked fondly at her
husband, and this time had to look up to see his face. "I'm almost
_positive_ this is what I want Harry to be."
"Well, if it isn't, sweet," Mr. Fallon said, "we'll try something else.
I don't mind as long as it makes you happy."
They closed the door behind them, leaving the hospital empty of all but
the small staff.
"They're crazy!" Dr. Hoyt exploded. "He's not the one we should be
changing. That idiotic female needs a good Ego Alter!"
"He hasn't asked for it," Dr. Kalmar pointed out patiently.
"Then he ought to!"
"That's his decision, isn't it? There's such a thing as ethics, you
know."
"I've never seen anything more insane than the way you work," snapped
Dr. Hoyt. "I can't wait to finish my stretch here and go home."
He stamped out, weaving slightly because of the sedative.
"Well, what do you think of our assistant?" asked Dr. Kalmar.
"He's cute," Miss Dupont said irrationally.
Dr. Kalmar glowered at her. He'd forgotten that she was due to have a
mate assigned to her this year.
* * * * *
Routine at the hospital was anything but routine. Dr. Hoyt barely kept
from yelping each time someone was treated, and his help was given so
unwillingly that Dr. Kalmar, sweating under a double load and with Dr.
Hoyt to argue with at the same time, was all for putting him on the ship
and asking Earth for another intern. But Miss Dupont talked him out of
it.
For no discernible reason other than loneliness, Dr. Hoyt was taking her
out. She was pleased, even though he crabbed constantly about the
shabby-looking clothes she wore, which were typical of Deneb, and the
way they fitted her.
Either the two of them didn't talk shop, or she had no influence with
him--his criticism and impatience grew sharper each week.
It bothered Dr. Kalmar more than he thought it should, and much more
than Mrs. Kalmar wanted it to. She was a pleasant little woman who liked
things as they were, which was why Dr. Kalmar had hesitated all this
while to ask her to undergo a slight rephysical; he would have preferred
her a little taller, more filled out, her slight wrinkles deleted and,
while he was thinking about it, he wished she'd let him give her
space-black hair instead of her indeterminately blondish mop. But he'd
rather have her as she was than peevish, so he had never mentioned it.
"Don't let the boy upset you, she said. "It's only that he's so young
and inexperienced. You can't expect him to adjust quickly to a new
environment and a whole new medical orientation."
"But that's just what annoys me! Why, I used to hang onto every word of
Dr. Lowell's when I came here! I never thought I knew better than he
did."
"Well, dear, you're you and Dr. Lowell is Dr. Lowell and Dr. Hoyt is Dr.
Hoyt."