Stranger in a Strange Land(7)

By: Robert A. Heinlein



She knew of the “No Female Visitors” rule and, while she did not consider herself to be a visitor of any sort, she sailed on past the marine guards without attempting to use the door they guarded—marines, she had found, had a stuffy habit of construing their orders literally. Instead she went into the adjacent watch room. Dr. “Tad” Thaddeus was on duty there alone.

He looked up. “Well, if it ain’t ‘Dimples!’ Hi, honey, what brings you here?”

She sat on the corner of his desk and reached for his cigarettes. “‘Miss Dimples,’ to you, chum; I’m on duty. This call is part of my rounds. What about your patient?”

“Don’t worry your fuzzy head about him, honey chile; he’s not your responsibility. See your order book.”

“I read it. I want to have a look at him.”

“In one word—no.”

“Oh, Tad, don’t go regulation on me. I know you.”

He gazed thoughtfully at his nails. “Ever worked for Doctor Nelson?”

“No. Why?”

“If I let you put your little foot inside that door, I’d find myself in Antarctica early tomorrow, prescribing for penguins’ chilblains. So switch your fanny out of here and go bother your own patients. I wouldn’t want him even to catch you in this watch room.”

She stood up. “Is Doctor Nelson likely to come popping in?”

“Not likely, unless I send for him. He’s still sleeping off low-gee fatigue.”

“So? Then what’s the idea of being so duty struck?”

“That’s all, Nurse.”

“Very well, Doctor!” She added, “Stinker.”

“Jill!”

“And a stuffed shirt, too.”

He sighed. “Still okay for Saturday night?”

She shrugged. “I suppose so. A girl can’t be fussy these days.” She went back to her duty station, found that her services were not in immediate demand, picked up the pass key. She was balked but not beaten, as she recalled that suite K-12 had a door joining it to the room beyond it, a room sometimes used as a sitting room when the suite was occupied by a Very Important Person. The room was not then in use, either as part of the suite or separately. She let herself into it. The guards at the door beyond paid no attention, unaware that they had been flanked.

She hesitated at the inner door between the two rooms, feeling some of the sharp excitement she used to feel when sneaking out of student nurses’ quarters. But, she told herself. Dr. Nelson was asleep and Tad wouldn’t tell on her even if he caught her. She didn’t blame him for keeping his finger on his number—but he wouldn’t report her. She unlocked the door and looked in.

The patient was in bed, he looked at her as the door opened. Her first impression was that here was a patient too far gone to care. His lack of expression seemed to show the complete apathy of the desperately ill. Then she saw that his eyes were alive with interest; she wondered if his face were paralysed? No, she decided; the typical sags were lacking.

She assumed her professional manner. “Well, how are we today? Feeling better?”

Smith translated and examined the questions. The inclusion of herself in the first query was confusing, but he decided that it might symbolize a wish to cherish and grow close. The second part matched Nelson’s speech forms. “Yes,” he answered.

“Good!” Aside from his odd lack of expression she saw nothing strange about him—and if women were unknown to him, he was certainly managing to conceal it. “Is there anything I can do for you?” She glanced around, noted that there was no glass on the bedside shelf. “May I get you water?”

Smith had spotted at once that this creature was different from the others who had come to see him. Almost as quickly he compared what he was seeing with pictures Nelson had shown him on the trip from home to this place—pictures intended to explain a particularly difficult and puzzling configuration of this people group. This, then, was a “woman.”

He felt both oddly excited and disappointed. He suppressed both in order that he might grok deeply, with such success that Dr. Thaddeus noticed no change in the dial readings in the next room.

But when he translated the last query he felt such a surge of emotion that he almost let his heartbeat increase. He caught it in time and chided himself for an undisciplined nestling. Then he checked his translation.

No, he was not mistaken. This woman creature had offered him the water ritual. It wished to grow closer.

With great effort, scrambling for adequate meanings in his pitifully poor list of human words, he attempted to answer with due ceremoniousness. “I thank you for water. May you always drink deep.”