Stewards of the Flame Read Free

techs.”
    “I know that. In this case, I’m allowing it.”
    She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Upon finding Jesse’s bed empty, she’d run a computer trace; the result had been so surprising—so unlike Kelstrom—that it hadn’t occurred to her it could be anything but an error. “There’s nothing wrong with the man, no possible reason to subject him to that,” she protested. “It would be hell for him even if he were used to such things.”
    “Anybody who works for Fleet is used to medical workups, I imagine.” He turned to his computer, not looking at her.
    “Not like ours. Offworld they’re not like ours, not unless there are symptoms serious enough to warrant the stress. You told me that.” Furious, confused because he was holding back in a way not at all characteristic of him, Carla paused. Her heart was pounding, and not just from rushing upstairs.
    “Carla. They wanted a subject on whom there were no recent records; the computer tagged Sanders. The official view’s that we’re doing him a favor. He’s getting tests that would cost twice his annual pay on worlds like Earth where preventative care’s not free.”
    His voice was level; none of the irony she’d have expected came through. “That’s not your view,” she insisted, baffled. “We spend half our time knocking ourselves out to protect patients assigned to you from that sort of thinking.”
    Still not meeting her gaze, Kelstrom agreed, “I don’t order physical workups often enough to suit my colleagues. Well, for once I saw a chance to display orthodoxy. My position here will be strengthened by it.”
    Incredulous, Carla could only stare. He had never been so cold before. He’d shown no lack of feeling even yesterday—when she’d shown him the results of Jesse’s initial psych tests, he’d shared her outrage at the injustice already done. “We’ll get the man out of here,” he’d assured her. “Action’s clearly called for, from what I can see at first glance. He’s not a true substance abuser, and certainly not paranoid. There’ll be no problem with a quick discharge.”
    And then, about to close the file, he had taken a closer look at its biographical section. “Carla,” he’d said in a low voice, tinged with excitement. “This man is a starship captain .”
    She had known what lay beneath his reaction. The responsibilities he bore obscured boyish enthusiasms, at least within Hospital walls—but like herself and most of her friends, he was stirred by the mere thought of starships. Not that offworld travel would ever be possible for any of them, but space was a symbol. It meant freedom from the problems they faced on Undine.
    Their eyes met, and as usual, their emotions; voicing them wasn’t necessary. “I’ll call up his chart at home tonight, and review it carefully,” he’d said, clearing the screen. “Meanwhile, he does have a drinking problem—not one that warrants intervention, but a problem nonetheless. Find out what’s back of it.”
    “Frustration, don’t you think? If his case had gone to anyone but you, I’d have tweaked the test results.” By most staff doctors, Jesse’s underlying discontent would have been labeled “illness” and antidepressants would have been ordered in high enough doses to distort his natural response to what was happening to him. “How can I learn anything more specific?”
    “Try asking him. He’ll reveal more than he says in words, to you. I don’t want to talk to him myself—he won’t trust me in this setting.”
    “He’d be a fool if he did,” she’d agreed. Now she wondered if her own trust had been misplaced. Yet it couldn’t have been. The grounds for it had been unquestionable. How could anyone, let alone this man, change so totally?
    “I believe what Jesse told me this morning,” Carla said, “as I reported in the first place. He was open with me, and our minds—touched.” The moment was vivid in her memory: an ordinary-looking man,