Star Surgeon | Page 2

to the observation platform.
Automatic doors swung open as he reached the top, and Dal shivered in
the damp night air. He could feel the gray fur that coated his back and
neck rising to protect him from the coldness and dampness that his
body was never intended by nature to endure.
Below him the bright lights of the landing fields and terminal buildings
of the port of Philadelphia spread out in panorama, and he thought with
a sudden pang of the great space-port in his native city, so very
different from this one and so unthinkably far away. The field below
was teeming with activity, alive with men and vehicles. Moments
before, one of Earth's great hospital ships had landed, returning from a
cruise deep into the heart of the galaxy, bringing in the gravely ill from

a dozen star systems for care in one of Earth's hospitals. Dal watched as
the long line of stretchers poured from the ship's hold with white-clad
orderlies in nervous attendance. Some of the stretchers were encased in
special atmosphere tanks; a siren wailed across the field as an
emergency truck raced up with fresh gas bottles for a chlorine-breather
from the Betelgeuse system, and a derrick crew spent fifteen minutes
lifting down the special liquid ammonia tank housing a native of
Aldebaran's massive sixteenth planet.
All about the field were physicians supervising the process of
disembarcation, resplendent in the colors that signified their medical
specialties. At the foot of the landing crane a Three-star Internist in the
green cape of the Medical Service--obviously the commander of the
ship--was talking with the welcoming dignitaries of Hospital Earth.
Half a dozen doctors in the Blue Service of Diagnosis were checking
new lab supplies ready to be loaded aboard. Three young Star Surgeons
swung by just below Dal with their bright scarlet capes fluttering in the
breeze, headed for customs and their first Earthside liberty in months.
Dal watched them go by, and felt the sick, bitter feeling in the pit of his
stomach that he had felt so often in recent months.
He had dreamed, once, of wearing the scarlet cape of the Red Service
of Surgery too, with the silver star of the Star Surgeon on his collar.
That had been a long time ago, over eight Earth years ago; the dream
had faded slowly, but now the last vestige of hope was almost gone. He
thought of the long years of intensive training he had just completed in
the medical school of Hospital Philadelphia, the long nights of studying
for exams, the long days spent in the laboratories and clinics in order to
become a physician of Hospital Earth, and a wave of bitterness swept
through his mind.
A dream, he thought hopelessly, a foolish idea and nothing more. They
knew before I started that they would never let me finish. They had no
intention of doing so, it just amused them to watch me beat my head on
a stone wall for these eight years. But then he shook his head and felt a
little ashamed of the thought. It wasn't quite true, and he knew it. He
had known that it was a gamble from the very first. Black Doctor

Arnquist had warned him the day he received his notice of admission to
the medical school. "I can promise you nothing," the old man had said,
"except a slender chance. There are those who will fight to the very end
to prevent you from succeeding, and when it's all over, you may not
win. But if you are willing to take that risk, at least you have a chance."
Dal had accepted the risk with his eyes wide open. He had done the
best he could do, and now he had lost. True, he had not received the
final, irrevocable word that he had been expelled from the medical
service of Hospital Earth, but he was certain now that it was waiting for
him when he arrived at Hospital Seattle the following morning.
The loading ramp was beginning to fill up, and Dal saw half a dozen of
his classmates from the medical school burst through the door from the
station below, shifting their day packs from their shoulders and
chattering among themselves. Several of them saw him, standing by
himself against the guard rail. One or two nodded coolly and turned
away; the others just ignored him. Nobody greeted him, nor even
smiled. Dal turned away and stared down once again at the busy
activity on the field below.
"Why so gloomy, friend?" a voice behind him said. "You look as
though the ship left without you."
Dal looked up at the tall, dark-haired young man, towering at his side,
and smiled ruefully. "Hello, Tiger! As a matter of fact, it