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Updated: July 29, 2025


"Back there pinned in " he jerked his hand southward. "Needs help " The Medic frowned. "Most of the men are out with the fleet. Jorge," he spoke to the boy who had followed him, "go and get Lex and Hartog. Here," he tried to push Dane back into the chair as the Trader got up, "let me look at that cut " Dane shook his head. "No time now, sir. My partner's hurt bad. Can you come?" "Certainly."

Tau did not appear surprised at that demand the Medic of a Free Trading spacer was never surprised at anything. He had his surfeit of shocks during his first years of service and after that accepted any occurrence, no matter how weird, as matter-of-fact. In addition Tau's hobby was "magic," the hidden knowledge possessed and used by witch doctors and medicine men on alien worlds.

Well, suppose you eat them here. They may do you a little good just as a change." "But I never eat carrots," retorted the medic tersely and with a slight show of resentment or opposition, scenting perhaps a new order. "No, not outside perhaps, but here you do. You eat carrots here, see?" "Yes, but why should I eat them if I don't like them? They don't agree with me.

"I expect you feel pretty sick. You got a good dose of radiation yourself, but we've given you a couple of transfusions one of the Mentorians matched your blood type, fortunately. It was a close call." The medic was looking down in ill-disguised curiosity. "Fantastic," he said. "I don't suppose you'd tell me who changed your looks.

Together Rip and Dane carried the Medic into a smaller chamber where they found Ali and the tech busy lashing a small, lightweight tube chair to a machine which, to their untutored eyes, had the semblance of a collection of bars. Obeying instructions they seated Hovan in that chair, fastening him in, while the Medic continued to slumber peacefully.

Tolling the younger man with him by a crooked finger, he went out of his combined office-living quarters to the domain of Medic Craig Tau. "Problem for you, Craig." Van Rycke seated his bulk on the wall jump seat Tau pulled down for him.

Don't you worry, buddy," said the man with the nervous voice. "What you in?" "Medical Replacement Unit." "A medic are you? Those boys didn't last long at the Chateau, did they, Tub?" "No, they didn't." Something inside Fuselli was protesting; "I'll last out though. I'll last out though." "Do you remember the fellers went out to get poor ole Corporal Jones, Tub?

However this may have been in this particular case, he noticed the uneaten carrots and, pausing a moment, observed: "What's the matter? Aren't you eating your carrots?" We had almost finished eating. "Who, me?" replied the medic, looking up. "Oh, no, I never eat carrots, you know. I don't like them." "Oh, don't you?" said Culhane sweetly. "You don't like them, and so you don't eat them!

The Lhari said, eying him keenly, "You are ill? Or discommoded?" Bart grasped at random for an excuse. "That that stuff the medic made me drink made me feel sort of sick." "You may send for a medical officer after acceleration," said the Lhari expressionlessly. "The summoning bell is at your left." They turned and went out and Bart gulped. Lhari, in person, checking the passenger decks!

"How much will that count after we've broken all their regs?" Ali wanted to know. "If we surrender now we're not going to have much chance, no matter what Hovan does or does not swear to. Hovan's a frontier Medic I won't say that he's not a member in good standing of their association but he doesn't have top star rating.

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