Star Surgeon | Page 3

did leave. I'm
waiting for the next one."
"Where to?" Frank Martin frowned down at Dal. Known as "Tiger" to
everyone but the professors, the young man's nickname fit him well. He
was big, even for an Earthman, and his massive shoulders and stubborn
jaw only served to emphasize his bigness. Like the other recent
graduates on the platform, he was wearing the colored cuff and collar
of the probationary physician, in the bright green of the Green Service
of Medicine. He reached out a huge hand and gently rubbed the pink
fuzz-ball sitting on Dal's arm. "What's the trouble, Dal? Even Fuzzy
looks worried. Where's your cuff and collar?"

"I didn't get any cuff and collar," Dal said.
"Didn't you get an assignment?" Tiger stared at him. "Or are you just
taking a leave first?"
Dal shook his head. "A permanent leave, I guess," he said bitterly.
"There's not going to be any assignment for me. Let's face it, Tiger. I'm
washed out."
"Oh, now look here--"
"I mean it. I've been booted, and that's all there is to it."
"But you've been in the top ten in the class right through!" Tiger
protested. "You know you passed your finals. What is this, anyway?"
Dal reached into his jacket and handed Tiger a blue paper envelope. "I
should have expected it from the first. They sent me this instead of my
cuff and collar."
Tiger opened the envelope. "From Doctor Tanner," he grunted. "The
Black Plague himself. But what is it?"
"Read it," Dal said.
"'You are hereby directed to appear before the medical training council
in the council chambers in Hospital Seattle at 10:00 A.M., Friday, June
24, 2375, in order that your application for assignment to a General
Practice Patrol ship may be reviewed. Insignia will not be worn. Signed,
Hugo Tanner, Physician, Black Service of Pathology.'" Tiger blinked at
the notice and handed it back to Dal. "I don't get it," he said finally.
"You applied, you're as qualified as any of us--"
"Except in one way," Dal said, "and that's the way that counts. They
don't want me, Tiger. They have never wanted me. They only let me go
through school because Black Doctor Arnquist made an issue of it, and
they didn't quite dare to veto him. But they never intended to let me
finish, not for a minute."

For a moment the two were silent, staring down at the busy landing
procedures below. A warning light was flickering across the field,
signaling the landing of an incoming shuttle ship, and the supply cars
broke from their positions in center of the field and fled like beetles for
the security of the garages. A loudspeaker blared, announcing the
incoming craft. Dal Timgar turned, lifting Fuzzy gently from his arm
into a side jacket pocket and shouldering his day pack. "I guess this is
my flight, Tiger. I'd better get in line."
Tiger Martin gripped Dal's slender four-fingered hand tightly. "Look,"
he said intensely, "this is some sort of mistake that the training council
will straighten out. I'm sure of it. Lots of guys have their applications
reviewed. It happens all the time, but they still get their assignments."
"Do you know of any others in this class? Or the last class?"
"Maybe not," Tiger said. "But if they were washing you out, why
would the council be reviewing it? Somebody must be fighting for
you."
"But Black Doctor Tanner is on the council," Dal said.
"He's not the only one on the council. It's going to work out. You'll
see."
"I hope so," Dal said without conviction. He started for the loading line,
then turned. "But where are you going to be? What ship?"
Tiger hesitated. "Not assigned yet. I'm taking a leave. But you'll be
hearing from me."
The loading call blared from the loudspeaker. The tall Earthman
seemed about to say something more, but Dal turned away and headed
across toward the line for the shuttle plane. Ten minutes later, he was
aloft as the tiny plane speared up through the black night sky and
turned its needle nose toward the west.
* * * * *

He tried to sleep, but couldn't. The shuttle trip from the Port of
Philadelphia to Hospital Seattle was almost two hours long because of
passenger stops at Hospital Cleveland, Eisenhower City, New Chicago,
and Hospital Billings. In spite of the help of the pneumatic seats and a
sleep-cap, Dal could not even doze. It was one of the perfect clear
nights that often occurred in midsummer now that weather control
could modify Earth's air currents so well; the stars glittered against the
black velvet backdrop above, and the North American continent was
free of clouds. Dal stared down at the patchwork of lights that flickered
up at him