"Because I'm in love with him."
He found himself nodding bitterly. Having Dr. Hoyt go back to Earth
wouldn't be a fraction as bad as Miss Dupont leaving with him. So now
there was something else to worry about.
* * * * *
Dr. Lowell came bouncing out of the jetcab a few days later. "The
hospital better be spotless!" he called out jovially, paying off the
hackie. "I'm in a mean mood. Liable to suspend everybody."
There was a strange lift to Dr. Kalmar's spirits as the old man entered
the office. He wished without hope that he could inspire the same sort
of reverence and respect. Impossible, of course. Dr. Lowell was great;
he himself was nothing more than competent.
Dr. Kalmar introduced his young assistant to the old man.
"Young and strong," Dr. Lowell approved. "That's what we need on Deneb.
Skill is important, but health and youth even more so."
"For those who stay," said Dr. Hoyt frostily. "I'm not."
Dr. Kalmar felt himself quiver with rage. The wet-nosed pup couldn't
talk to Dr. Lowell like that!
But Dr. Lowell was saying cheerily, "You seem to have made up your mind
to go back. No matter. Some decisions are like egg-shells--made only to
be broken. I hope that's what you'll do with yours."
"Not a chance," Dr. Hoyt said. He didn't take the arrogant expression
off his face even when Miss Dupont looked at him pleadingly.
"Then I say let's signal the next ship--" Dr. Kalmar began.
Dr. Lowell cut in quickly, "You two have patients to attend to, I see.
Don't worry about me. I know my way around this poor little wretch of a
building. Not much like Earth hospitals, is it?" He headed for the
medical supply room, adding just before he went in, "A lot can be said
for small installations. The personal touch, you know."
Dr. Kalmar enviously realized how deftly the old man had put the
youngster in his place, whereas he would have stood there and slugged it
out verbally. Lord, if he could only acquire that awesome wisdom!
"Well, back to work," he said, trying to imitate the cheeriness at
least.
"Sure, let's ruin some more lives," Dr. Hoyt almost snarled.
"Leo, _please_!" whispered Miss Dupont imploringly.
Five minutes later the two doctors were furiously arguing over a very
old man who had been sent by Social Control to have his eyesight
strengthened.
"You have no right to let anybody dodder around like this!" Dr. Hoyt
yelled. "What in hell is Rephysical for if not for such cases?"
"You probably think we ought to make him look like 25 again," Dr. Kalmar
yelled back. "If that's all you've learned working here--"
"Now, now," said Dr. Lowell soothingly. He'd come in unnoticed by either
of the men. "Dr. Hoyt is right, of course. We _would_ like to make old
people young and some day we'll be able to afford it. But not for some
time to come."
"Why not?" Dr. Hoyt demanded in a lower tone, visibly flattered by Dr.
Lowell's seemingly taking his side.
"Rephysical can't actually make anyone young. It can only give the
outward appearance of youth and replace obviously diseased parts. But an
old body is an old organism; it has to break down eventually. If we give
it more vigor than it can endure, it breaks down too soon, much sooner
than if we let it age normally. That represents economic loss as well as
a humanitarian one."
"I don't follow you," Dr. Hoyt said bewilderedly.
"Well, our patient used to be a machinist. A good one. Now he's only
able to be an oiler. A good one, too, when you improve his eyesight. He
can go on doing that for years, performing a useful function. But he'd
wear himself out in no time as a machinist again if you de-aged him."
"Is that supposed to make sense?"
"It does," said Dr. Lowell, "for Deneb."
Dr. Hoyt wanted to continue the discussion, but Dr. Lowell was already
on his way to inspect another part of the hospital. Grumbling, the young
man helped chart the optical nerves that had to be replaced and measure
the new curve of the retinas ordered by Social Control.
But he fought just as strenuously over other cases, especially a retired
freight-jet pilot who had to have his reflexes slowed down so he could
become a contented meteorologist. Whenever there was a loud disagreement
of this sort, Dr. Lowell was there to mediate calmly.
* * * * *
At the end of the day, Dr. Kalmar was emotionally exhausted. He said as
he and Dr. Lowell were washing up, "The kid's hopeless. I thought you
could straighten him out--God knows I couldn't--but he'll never see why
we have to work the way we do."
"What do you suggest?" Dr. Lowell asked through a towel.
"Send him back to Earth. Get an intern who's more malleable."
Dr. Lowell tossed the towel into the sterilizer. "Can't be done. We're
expanding so fast all over the Galaxy that Earth can't train and ship
out enough doctors for the new colonies. If we sent him back, I don't
know when we'd get another."