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Chapter 8

JILL TRIED TO TELL HERSELF that Ben had gone charging off on anotherScent and simply had forgotten (or had not taken time) to let her know. Butshe did not believe it. Ben, incredibly busy as he was, owed much of hissuccess, both professional and social, to meticulous attention to humandetails. He remembered birthdays and would rather have weiched on a pokerdebt than have forgotten to write a bread-and-butter note. No matter wherehe had gone, nor how urgent the errand, he could have-and would have!-atleast taken two minutes while in the air to record a reassuring message toher at her home or at the Center. It was an unvarying characteristic of Ben,she reminded herself, the thing that made him a lovable beast in spite of hismany faults.

  He must have left word for her! She called his office again at her lunch breakand spoke with Ben’s researcher and office chief, Osbert Kilgallen. Heassured her solemnly that Ben had left no message for her, nor had anycome in since she had called earlier.

  She could see past his head in the screen that there were other people in theoffice; she decided it was a poor time to mention the Man from Mars. .Did hesay where he was going? Or when he would be back?“.No. But that is not unusual. We always have a few spare columns on thehook to fill in when one of these things comes up.“.Well ... where did he call you from? Or am I being too snoopy?“.Not at all, Miss floardman. He did not call; it was a statprint message, filedfrom Paoli Flat in Philadelphia as I recall.“Jill had to be satisfied with that. She lunched in the nurses’ dining room andtried to interest herself in food. It wasn’t, she told herself, as if anything werereally wrong . . . or as if she were in love with the lunk or anything silly likethat.

  .Hey! Boardman! Snap out of the fog-I asked you a question.“Jill looked up to find Molly Wheelwright, the wing’s dietician, looking at her.

  .Sorry. I was thinking about something else.“.I said, .Since when does your floor put charity patients in luxury suites?’

  .Isn’t K-12 on your floor? Or have they moved you?“.K-12? Certainly. But that’s not a charity case; it’s a rich old woman, wealthythat she can pay to have a doctor watch every breath she draws.“.Humph! If she’s wealthy, she must have come into money awfully suddenly.

  She’s been in the N.P. ward of the geriatrics sanctuary for the pastseventeen months.“.Must be some mistake.“.Not mine-I don’t let mistakes happen in my diet kitchen. That tray is a trickyone and I check it myself-fat-free diet (she’s had her gall bladder out) and along list of sensitivities, plus concealed medication. Believe me, dear, a dietorder can be as individual as a fingerprint.“ Miss Wheelwright stood up.

  .Gotta run, chicks. I wish they would let me run this kitchen for a while.

  Hogwallow Cafeteria!“.What was Molly sounding off about?“ one of the nurses asked.

  .Nothing. She’s just mixed up.“ But Jill continued to think about it. It occurredto her that she might locate the Man from Mars by making inquiries aroundthe diet kitchens. She put the idea out of her mind; it would take a full day tovisit all the diet kitchens in the acres of ground covered by the sprawlingbuildings. Bethesda Center had been founded as a naval hospital back in thedays when wars were fought on oceans; it had been enormous even then. Ithad been transferred later to Health, Education, & Welfare and hadexpanded; now it belonged to the Federation and was still larger, a small city.

  But there was something odd about Mrs. Bankerson’s case. The hospitalaccepted all classes of patients, private, charity, and government; the floorJill was working on usually had only government patients and its luxury suiteswere occupied by Federation Senators or other official guests able tocommand flossy service. It was unusual for a paying private patient to have asuite on her floor, or to be on her floor in any status.

  Of course Mrs. Bankerson could be overflow, if the part of the Center open tothe fee-paying public had no such suite available. Yes, probably that was it.

  She was too rushed for a while after lunch to think about it, being busy withincoming patients. Shortly a situation came up in which she needed apowered bed. The routine action would be to phone for one to be sent up-butthe storage room was in the basement a quarter of a mile away and Jillwanted the bed at once. She recalled that she had seen the powered bedwhich was normally in the bedroom of suite K-l2 parked in the sitting room ofthat suite; she remembered telling one of those marine guards not to sit on it.

  Apparently it had Simply been shoved in there to get it out of the way whenthe flotation bed had been installed for Smith.

  Possibly it was still sitting there, gathering dust and still charged out to thefloor. Powered beds were always in short supply and cost six times as muchas an ordinary bed. While, strictly speaking, it was the wing superintendent’sworry, Jill saw no reason to let overhead charges for her floor run upunnecessarily-and besides, if it was still there, she could get it at once. Shedecided to find out.

  The sitting room door was still locked. She was startled to find that her passkey would not open it. Making a mental note to tell maintenance to repair thelock, she went on down the corridor to the watch room of the suite, intendingto find out about the bed from the doctor watching over Mrs. Bankerson.

  The physician on watch was the same one she had met before, Dr. Brush.

  He was not an intern, nor a resident, but had been brought in for this patient,Jill had learned from him, by Dr. Garner. Brush looked up as she put herhead in. .Miss Boardman! Just the person I want to see!“.Why didn’t you ring? How’s your patient?“.She’s all right,“ he answered, glancing up at the Peeping Tom, .But Idefinitely am not.“.Trouble?“.Some trouble. About five minutes’ worth. And my relief is not in the building.

  Nurse, could you spare me about that many minutes of your valuable time?

  And then keep your mouth shut afterwards?“.I suppose so. I told my assistant floor supervisor I would be away for a fewminutes. Let me use your phone and I’ll tell her where to find me.“.No!“ he said urgently. .Just lock that door after I leave and don’t let anybodyin until you hear me rap .Shave and a Haircut’ on it, that’s a good girl.“.All right, sir,“ Jill said dubiously. .Am I to do anything for your patient?“.No, no, just sit there at the desk and watch her in the screen. You won’thave to do anything. Don’t disturb her.“.Well, if anything does happen, where will you be? In the doctors’ lounge?“.I’m not going that far-just to the men’s washroom down the corridor. Nowshut up, please, and let me go-this is urgent.“He left and Jill obeyed his order to lock the door after him. Then she lookedat the patient through the viewer and ran her eye over the dials. The elderlywoman was again asleep and the displays showed her pulse strong and herbreathing even and normal; Jill wondered why Dr. Garner considered a.death watch“ necessary?

  Then she remembered why she had come in there in the first place anddecided that she might as well find out if the bed was in the far room withoutbothering Dr. Brush about it. While it was not quite according to Dr. Brush’sinstructions, she would not be disturbing his patient-certainly she knew howto walk through a room without waking a sleeping patient!-and she haddecided years ago that what doctors did not know rarely hurt them. Sheopened the door quietly and went in.

  A quick glance assured her that Mrs. Bankerson was in the typical sleep ofthe senile. Walking noiselessly she went past her to the door to the sittingroom. It was locked but her pass key let her in.

  She was pleased to see that the powered bed was there. Then she saw thatthe room was occupied-sitting in an arm chair with a picture book in his lapwas the Man from Mars.

  Smith looked up and gave her the beaming smile of a delighted baby.

  Jill felt dizzy, as if she had been jerked out of sleep. Jumbled ideas racedthrough her mind. Valentine Smith here? But he couldn’t be; he had beentransferred somewhere else; the log showed it. But he was here.

  Then all the ugly implications and possibilities seemed to line themselves up .

  - - the fake .Man from Mars“ on stereo ... the old woman out there, ready todie, but in the meantime covering the fact that there was another patient inhere . . . the door that would not open to her pass-key-and, lastly, a horridvision of the .meat wagon“ wheeling out of here some night, with a sheetconcealing the fact that it carried not one cadaver, but two.

  When this last nightmare rushed through her mind, it carried in its train a coldwind of fear, the realization that she herself was in peril through havingstumbled Onto this top-secret fact.

  Smith got clumsily up from his chair, held out both hands while still smilingand said, .Water brother!“.Hello. Uh ... how are you?“.I am well. I am happy.“ He added something in a strange, choking speech,then corrected himself and said carefully, .You are here, my brother. Youwere away. Now you are here. I drink deep of you.“Jill felt herself helplessly split between two emotions, one that crushed andmelted her heart-and an icy fear of being caught here. Smith did not seem tonotice. Instead he said, .See? I walk! I grow strong.“ He demonstrated bytaking a few steps back and forth, then stopped, triumphant, breathless, andsmiling in front of her.

  She forced herself to smile. .We are making progress, aren’t we? You keepgrowing stronger, that’s the spirit! But I must go now-I just stopped in to sayhello.“His expression changed instantly to distress. .Do not go!“.Oh, but I must!“He continued to look woebegone, then added with tragic certainty, .I havehurted you. I did not know.“.Hurt me? Oh, no, not at all! But I must go-and quickly!“His face was without expression. He stated rather than asked, .Take mewith you, my brother.“.What? Oh, I can’t. And I must go, at once. Look, don’t tell anyone that I wasin here, please!“.Not tell that my water brother was here?“.Yes. Don’t tell anyone. Uh, I’ll try to come back, I really will. You be a goodboy and wait and don’t tell anyone.“Smith digested this, looked serene. .I will wait. I will not tell.“.Good!“ Jill wondered how the devil she possibly could get back in to seehim-she certainly couldn’t depend on Dr. Brush having another convenientcase of trots. She realized now that the .broken“ lock had not been brokenand her eye swept around to the corridor door-and she saw why she had notbeen able to get in. A hand bolt had been screwed to the surface of the door,making a pass key useless. As was always the case with hospitals, bathroomdoors and other doors that could be bolted were so arranged as to open alsoby pass key, so that patients irresponsible or unruly could not lockthemselves away from the nurses. But here the locked door kept Smith in,and the addition of a simple hand bolt of the sort not permitted in hospitalsserved to keep out even those with pass keys.

  Jill walked over and opened the bolt. .You wait. I’ll come back.“.I shall waiting.“When she got back to the watch room she heard already knocking the Tock!

  Tocki Ti-toe/c tocki - . . Tock, tock! signal that Brush had said he would use;she hurried to let him in.

  He burst in, saying savagely, .Where the hell were you, nurse? I knockedthree times.“ He glanced suspiciously at the inner door.

  .I saw your patient turn over in her sleep,“ she lied quickly. .I was inarranging her collar pillow.“.Damn it, I told you simply to sit at my desk!“Jill knew suddenly that the man was even more frightened than she was-andwith more reason. She counter-attacked. .Doctor, I did you a favor,“ she saidcoldly. .Your patient is not properly the responsibility of the floor supervisor inthe first place. But since you entrusted her to me, I had to do what seemednecessary in your absence. Since you have questioned what I have done,let’s get the wing superintendent and settle the matter.“.Huh? No, no-forget it.“.No, sir. I don’t like to have my professional actions questioned withoutcause. As you know very well, a patient that old can smother in a water bed; Idid what was necessary. Some nurses will take any blame from a doctor, butI am not one of them. So let’s call the superintendent.“.What? Look, Miss Boardman, I’m sorry I said anything. I was upset and Ipopped off without thinking. I apologize.“.Very well, Doctor,“ Jill answered stiffly. .Is there anything more I can do foryou?“.Uh? No, thank you. Thanks for standing by for me. Just ... well, be sure notto mention it, will you?“.I won’t mention it.“ You can bet your sweet life I won’t mention it, Jill addedsilently. But what do I do now? Oh, I wish Ben were in town! She got back toher duty desk, nodded to her assistant, and pretended to look over somepapers. Finally she remembered to phone for the powered bed she had beenafter in the first place. Then she sent her assistant to look at the patient whoneeded the bed (now temporarily resting in the ordinary type) and tried tothink.

  Where was Ben? If he were only in touch, she would take ten minutes relief,call him, and shift the worry onto his broad shoulders. But Ben, damn him,was oft’ skyoodling somewhere and letting her carry the ball.

  Or was he? A fretful suspicion that had been burrowing around in hersubconscious all day finally surfaced and looked her in the eye, and this timeshe returned the stare: Ben Caxton would not have left town without lettingher know the outcome of his attempt to see the Man from Mars. As a fellowconspirator it was her right to receive a report and Ben always played fair . . .

  always.

  She could hear sounding in her head something he had said on the ride backfrom Hagerstown: .-if anything goes wrong, you are my ace in the hole . . .

  honey. ~f you don’t hear from me, you are on your own,“She had not thought seriously about it at the time, as she had not reallybelieved that anything could happen to Ben. Now she thought about it for along time, while trying to continue her duties. There comes a time in the life ofevery human when he or she must decide to risk .his life, his fortune, and hissacred honor“ on an outcome dubious. Those who fail the challenge aremerely overgrown children, can never be anything else. Jill Boardmanencountered her personal challenge-and accepted it-at 3:47 that afternoonwhile convincing a ward visitor that he simply could not bring a dog onto thefloor even though he had managed to slip it past the receptionist and even ifthe sight of this dog was just what the patient needed.

  The Man from Mars sat down again when Jill left. He did not pick up thepicture book they had given him but simply waited in a fashion which may bedescribed as .patient“ only because human language does not embraceMartian emotions nor attitudes. He merely held still with quiet happinessbecause his brother had said that he would return. He was prepared to wait,without doing anything, without moving, for several years if necessary.

  He had no clear idea how long it had been since he had first shared waterwith this brother; not only was this place curiously distorted in time andshape, with sequences of sights and sounds and experiences new to himand not yet grokked, but also the culture of his nest took a different grasp oftime from that which is human. The difference lay not in their much longerlifetimes as counted in Earth years, but in a basically different attitude. Thesentence, .It is later than you think,“ could not have been expressed inMartian-nor could .Haste makes waste,“ though for a different reason: thefirst notion was inconceivable while the latter was an unexpressed Martianbasic, as unnecessary as telling a fish to bathe. But the quotation, .As it wasin the Beginning, is now and ever shall be,“ was so Martian in mood that itcould be translated more easily than .two plus two makes four“-which wasnot a truism on Mars.

  Smith waited.

  Brush came in and looked at him; Smith did not move and Brush wentaway.

  When Smith heard a key in the Outer door, he recalled that this sound hadbeen one that he had heard somewhat before the last visit of his waterbrother, so he shifted his metabolism in preparation, in case the sequenceoccurred again. He was astonished when the door opened and Jill slipped in,as he had not been aware that the outer door was a door. But he grokked itat once and gave himself over to the joyful fullness which comes only in thepresence of one’s own nestlings, one’s chosen water brothers, and (undercertain circumstances) in the presence of the Old Ones.

  His joy was somewhat sullied by immediate awareness that his brother didnot fully share it . . - in truth, he seemed more distressed than was possiblesave in one about to discorporate because of some shameful lack or failure.

  But Smith had already learned that these creatures, so much like himself insome ways, could endure emotions dreadful to contemplate and still not die.

  His Brother Mahmoud underwent a spiritual agony five times daily and notonly did not die but had urged the agony on him as a needful thing. HisBrother Captain van Tromp suffered terrifying spasms unpredictably, any oneof which should have, by Smith’s standards, produced immediatediscorporation to end the conflict-yet that brother was still corporate so far ashe knew.

  So he ignored Jill’s agitation.

  Jill handed him a bundle. .Here, put these on. Hurry!“Smith accepted the bundle and stood waiting. Jill looked at him and said,.Oh, dear! All right, get your clothes off. I’ll help you.“She was forced to do more than help; she had to undress and dress him. Hehad been wearing a hospital gown, a bathrobe, and slippers, not because hewanted them but because he had been told to wear them. He could handlethem himself by now, but not fast enough to Suit Jill; she skinned him quickly.

  She being a nurse and he never having heard of the modesty taboo-norwould he have grasped an explanation-they were not slowed up byirrelevancies; the difficulties were purely mechanical. He was delighted andsurprised by the long false skins Jill drew over his legs, but she gave him notime to cherish them, but taped the women’s stockings to his thighs in lieu ofa garter belt. The nurse’s uniform she dressed him in was not her own, butone that she had borrowed from a larger woman on the excuse that a cousinof hers needed one for a masquerade party. Jill hooked a nurse’s capearound his neck and reflected that its all-enclosing straight drape coveredmost of the primary and secondary sex characteristics-at least she hopedthat it would. The shoes were more difficult, as they did not fit well and Smithstill found standing and walking in this gravity field an effort even barefooted.

  But at last she got him covered and pinned a nurse’s cap on his head. .Yourhair isn’t very long,“ she said anxiously, .but it is practically as long as a lot ofthe girls wear it and it will have to do.“ Smith did not answer as he had notunderstood much of the remark. He tried to think his hair longer but realizedthat it would take time.

  .Now,“ said Jill. .Listen carefully. No matter what happens, don’t say a word.

  I’ll do all the talking. Do you understand me?“.Don’t talk. I will not talk.“.Just come with me-I’ll hold your hand. And don’t say a word. But if you knowany prayers, pray!“.Pray?“.Never mind. You just come along and don’t talk.“ She opened the quickglance outside, then took his hand and led him out into the corridor.

  No one seemed especially interested. Smith found the many strangeconfigurations upsetting in the extreme; he was assaulted by images hecould not bring into focus. He stumbled blindly along beside Jill, with his eyesand senses almost disconnected to protect himself against chaos.

  She led him to the end of the corridor and stepped on a slide-away leadingcrosswise. He almost fell down and would have done so if Jill had not caughthim. A chambermaid looked curiously at them and Jill cursed under herbreath-then was very careful in helping him off. They took an elevator to theroof, Jill being quite sure that she could never pilot him up a bounce tube.

  On the roof they encountered a major crisis, though Smith was not aware ofit. He was undergoing the keen delight of seeing sky; he had not seen skysince the sky of Mars. This sky was bright and colorful and joyful -it being atypical overcast Washington grey day. In the meantime Jill was lookingaround helplessly for a taxi. The roof was almost deserted, something shehad counted on, since most of the nurses who came off duty when she didwere already headed home fifteen minutes ago and the afternoon visitorswere gone. But the taxis were, of course, gone too. She did not dare risk anair bus, even though one which went her way would be along in a fewminutes.

  She was about to call a taxi when one headed in for a landing. She called tothe roof attendant. .Jack! Is that cab taken? I need one.“.It’s probably the one I called for Dr. Phipps.“.Oh, dear! Jack, see how quick you can get me another one, will you? This ismy cousin Madge-she works over in South Wing-and she has a terriblelaryngitis and I want to get her out of this wind.“The attendant looked dubiously toward the phone in his booth and scratchedhis head. .Well ... seeing it’s you, Miss Boardman, I’ll let you take this oneand call another one for Dr. Phipps. How’s that?“.Oh, Jack, you’re a lamb! No, Madge, don’t try to talk; I’ll thank him. Her voiceis gone completely; I’m going to take her home and bake it out with hot rum.“.That ought to do it. Old-fashioned remedies are always best, my motherused to say.“ He reached into the cab and punched the combination for Jill’shome from memory, then helped them in. Jill managed to get in the way andthereby cover up Smith’s unfamiliarity with this common ceremonial. .Thanks,Jack. Thanks loads.“The cab took off and Jill took her first deep breath. .You can talk.What should I say?“.Huh? Nothing. Anything. Whatever you like.“Smith thought this over. The scope of the invitation obviously called for aworthy answer, suitable to brothers. He thought of several, discarded thembecause he did not know how to translate them, then settled on one which hethought he could translate fairly well but which nevertheless conveyed evenin this strange, flat speech some of the warm growing-closer brothers shouldenjoy. .Let our eggs share the same nest.“Jill looked startled. .Huh? What did you say?“Smith felt distressed at the failure to respond in kind and interpreted it asfailure on his own part. He realized miserably that, time after time, he hadmanaged to bring agitation to these other creatures when his purpose hadbeen to create oneness. He tried again, rearranging his sparse vocabulary toenfold the thought somewhat differently. .My nest is yours and your nest ismine.“This time Jill managed to smile. .Why, how sweet! My dear, I am not surethat I understand you, but if I do, that is the nicest offer I have had in a longtime.“ She added, .But right now we are up to our ears in trouble- so let’s waita while, shall we?“Smith had understood Jill hardly more than Jill had understood him, but hecaught his water brother’s pleased mood and understood the suggestion towait. Waiting was something he did without effort, so he sat back, satisfiedthat all was well between himself and his brother, and enjoyed the scenery. Itwas the first time he had seen this place from the air and on every side therewas a richness of new things to try to grok. It occurred to him that theapportation used at home did not permit this delightful viewing of what laybetween.............

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