[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

please go to sleep and let me work.
"I'll try," he said. "What are you doing?
She sighed again and said, "Among other things I am comparing a series of
enlarged scanner visuals of DBDG and other-species brains, including your own,
in the hope of finding a structural variation or abnormality that might
explain how you were able to do some of the things you have done, if it was
you and not another as yet unidentified agency that was responsible. I don't
really expect to find evidence of a faculty that enables its possessor to
perform mir' acles, but I
have to try. Now go to sleep.
A few minutes later she went on, "Are you sure you have told us everything?
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Final Diagnosis.htm
Were there any incidents, so minor or trivial that you didn't think they were
worth mentioning, like the episode with your teeth, for example, while you
were a child or adult? How about contacts with people who were ill, either at
home or in your working environment? For some reason the case notes make no
mention of your profession or occupation. Did you have any contacts with
animals, other than your kitten, that might have been ill or recently recov-,
ered from an illness, or were there any other . . .
"Do you mean my sheep?" said Hewlitt
"I might mean your sheep," said Murchison. "Tell me about it.
"Them," he corrected, "You're a shepherd?" she said. "I didn't think they had
shepherds these days. Go on.
"I'm not and they do," he said. "Sheepherding is a rare, specialized, and very
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well paid job, especially when they work for me. I inherited the family
business from my grandparents, because my father was the only son and he
preferred a career in the space service. When he died in the flyer crash,
well, I was the last Hewlitt. The case notes didn't mention my job because
nearly everyone on Earth knew who I
was and what I did
"I run Hewlitt the Tailor.
"And I have the feeling that I should be impressed," said Murchison. "Sorry,
but I
wasn't born on Earth.
"Neither were ninety-odd percent of the Federation citizens," he said, "so I'm
not offended. It is a small but very exclusive company that can charge the
Earth and moon for its services, which is to provide handcrafted, custom-built
garments made from the original, handwoven or spun tweeds and fine worsted
materials. In these days of cheap, synthesized clothing there are people who
are willing and wealthy enough to pay our prices, or even to try bribing their
way onto our waiting list. But in spite of the fearsome prices we charge, the
profit margin isn't excessive. We have to maintain herds of sheep and other
wool-bearing animals, file:///F|/rah/James%20White/Final%20Diagnosis.htm (131
of 266) [7/1/03 1:38:07 AM]
Final Diagnosis.htm who are classified as protected species. They still need
to be shorn periodically, which is how we get the raw material for our weaving
mill, but the high level and cost of health care our animals are given you
wouldn't believe
"My job requires periodic inspection visits to our herds,' he went on, "which
includes feeling the quality of wool on a few of the animals before shearing.
But they are never, evei allowed to take sick or catch any infectious
diseases. So Fir sorry. This information isn't very useful to you, is it?
"Probably not useful," she agreed, "but interesting. We'L need to give it some
serious thought.
"And I'm not a tailor," he ended, "just an impeccably dressed company
figurehead, when I'm not wearing a hospital nightshirt.
Murchison smiled and nodded. "We were all wondering why an apparently non-
urgent case like yours was referrec to Sector General. Maybe one of your rich
and influentia clients might have had something to do with it, especially i:
he happened to be a highly placed medic anxious to get ont
list.
"But surely not influential enough," said Hewlitt, "t« have an ambulance ship
like
Rhabwar assisting with irrj case. Why am I considered that important?
He knew at once from her sudden lack of expression tha she was not going to
answer. Instead she smiled again am said firmly, "No more questions, Patient
Hewlitt. You can count sheep if you like, but go to sleep.
She continued to watch him until he closed his eyes; then he heard her resume
the quiet, intermittent tapping on her console. In the darkness behind his
closed lids, the background silence of a ship in hyperflight became diluted by
the soft, metallic creaking and humming noises interspersed with the distant,
muffled, and barely audible voices of the crew that drifted aft along the
communications well, sounds that at other times he would not have been aware
of hearing. He lay for a subjective eternity, trying not to think about
anything at all while wriggling to relieve the increasing discomfort of his
sinfully comfortable bed until he could
file:///F|/rah/James%20White/Final%20Diagnosis.htm (132 of 266) [7/1/03
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Final Diagnosis.htm take it no longer
"I'm not sleeping," he said, opening his eyes. , "That is what your monitor
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has been telling me for the past two hours," said Murchison, trying to hide
her irritation behind a smile. "But it is always nice to have verbal
corrob-oration. What am I going to do with you?
Hewlitt recognized a rhetorical question when he heard one and remained silent
She went on, "You are forbidden all medication, which, naturally, includes
sedation. Rhabwar doesn't have an entertainment channel to bore you to sleep
because the occupants of the casualty deck are usually in no condition to be
entertained. Danalta will be relieving me in an hour. Unless you want to spend
the rest of the night watching it change shape, which is not a pretty sight,
our closest equivalent to in-flight entertainment is the ship's log of past
operations. I can run that on the main screen if you like, with the nonmedical
summary. Some of the material will provide useful background information for
tomorrow's briefing on [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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