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and worthwhile work he, and they, were doing. But the idea of friction developing was laughable.
That was before today, though, when O'Mara had made him feel small and stupid, accused him of
bigotry and intolerance, and generally cut his ego to pieces. This, quite definitely, was friction developing,
and if such treatment at the hands of Monitors continued Conway knew that he would be driven to leave.
He was a civilized and ethical human being-why were the Monitors in a position to tell him off? Conway
just could not understand it at all. Two things he did know, however; he wanted to remain at the hospital,
and to do that he needed help.
IV
The name "Bryson" popped into his mind suddenly, one of the names he had been given should he get
into trouble. O'Mara, the other name, was out, but this Bryson now...
Conway had never met anyone with that name, but by asking a passing Tralthan he received
directions for finding him. He got only as far as the door, which bore the legend, "Captain Bryson,
Monitor Corps, Chaplain," then he turned angrily away. Another Monitor! There was just one person left
who might help him: Dr. Mannon. He should have tried him first.
But his superior, when Conway ran him down, was sealed in the LSVO theatre where he was
assisting a Tralthan Surgeon-Diagnostician in a very tricky piece of work. He went up to the observation
gallery to wait until Mannon had finished.
The LSVO came from a planet of dense atmosphere and negligible gravity. It was a winged life-form
of extreme fragility, which necessitated the theatre being at almost zero gravity and the surgeons strapped
to their position around the table. The little OTSB who lived in symbiosis with the elephantine Tralthan
was not strapped down, but held securely above the operative field by one of its host's secondary
tentacles-the OTSB life-form, Conway knew, could not lose physical contact with its host for more than
a few minutes without suffering severe mental damage. Interested despite his own troubles, he began to
concentrate on what they were doing.
A section of the patient's digestive tract had been bared, revealing a spongy, bluish growth adhering to
it. Without the LSVO physiology tape Conway could not tell whether the patient's condition was serious
or not, but the operation was certainly a technically difficult one. He could tell by the way Mannon
hunched forward over it and by the tightly-coiled tentacles of the Tralthan not then in use. As was normal,
the little OTSB with its cluster of wire-thin, eye- and sucker-tipped tentacles was doing the fine,
exploratory work-sending infinitely detailed visual information of the field to its giant host, and receiving
back instructions based on that data. The Tralthan and Dr. Mannon attended to the relatively crude work
of clamping, tying-off and swabbing out. Dr. Mannon had little to do but watch as the super-sensitive
tentacles of the Tralthan's parasite were guided in their work by the host, but Conway knew that the
other was proud of the chance to do even that. The Tralthan combination were the greatest surgeons the
Galaxy had ever known. All surgeons would have been Tralthans had not their bulk and operating
procedure made it impossible to treat certain forms of life.
Conway was waiting when they came out of the theatre. One of the Tralthan's tentacles flicked out
and tapped Dr. Mannon sharply on the head-a gesture which was a high compliment-and immediately a
small bundle of fur and teeth streaked from behind a locker toward the great being who was apparently
attacking its master. Conway had seen this game played out many times and it still seemed wildly
ludicrous to him. As Mannon's dog barked furiously at the creature towering above both itself and its
master, challenging it to a duel to the death, the Tralthan shrank back in mock terror and cried, "Save me
from this fearsome beast!" The dog, still barking furiously, circled it, snapping at the leathery tegument
protecting the Tralthan's six, blocky legs. The Tralthan retreated precipitously, the while calling loudly for
aid and being very careful that its tiny attacker was not splattered under one of its elephantine feet. And
so the sounds of battle receded down the corridor.
When the noise had diminished sufficiently for him to be heard, Conway said, "Doctor, I wonder if
you could help me. I need advice, or at least information. But it's a rather delicate matter.
Conway saw Dr. Mannon's eyebrows go up and a smile quirk the corners of his mouth. He said, "I'd
be glad to help you, of course, but I'm afraid any advice I could give you at the moment would be pretty
poor stuff." He made a disgusted face and flapped his arms up and down. "I've still got an LSVO tape
working on me. You know how it is-half of me thinks I'm a bird and the other half is a little confused
about it. But what sort of advice do you need?" he went on, his head perking to one side in an oddly
bird-like manner. "If it's that peculiar form of madness called young love, or any other psychological
disturbance, I'd suggest you see O'Mara."
Conway shook his head quickly; anybody but O'Mara. He said, "No. It's more of a philosophical
nature, a matter of ethics, maybe& "
"Is that all!" Mannon burst out. He was about to say something more when his face took on a fixed,
listening expression. With a sudden jerk of his thumb he indicated a nearby wall annunciator. He said
quietly, "The solution to your weighty problems will have to wait-you're wanted."
"...Dr. Conway," the annunciator was saying briskly, "Go to room 87 and administer pep-shots...
"But 87 isn't even in our section!" Conway protested. "What's going on here...?"
Dr. Mannon had become suddenly grim. "I think I know," he said, "and I advise you to keep a few of
those shots for yourself because you are going to need them." He turned abruptly and hurried off,
muttering something about getting a fast erasure before they started screaming for him, too.
Room 87 was the Casualty Section's staff recreation room, and when Conway arrived its tables,
chairs and even parts of its floor were asprawl with green-clad Monitors, some of whom had not the
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