The COMPLEAT Collected SFF Works, page 727
Rather than use his big, new administrator's office, O'Mara had decided to hold the initial interview in the Psychology Department. There were three reasons for this. A gratuitous display of his new, lavish workplace would have been a waste of time and a great unkindness if the candidate was unsuccessful; all the training records and psyche files that it would be using were in the old office; and anyway, it was possible that Cerdal would be equally uncomfortable in either office until Maintenance provided some Cemmeccan furniture.
O'Mara tried to imagine how his predecessor Craythorne would have handled this situation while at the same time remembering all the advice Thornnastor, Skempton, Prilicla, and even young Conway, who was going a touch grey at the temples these days, had given him on how an administrator should behave while interviewing a high-level candidate. He took a deep breath and worked the long-unused facial muscles to produce a pleasant expression even though the other might not be able to read it.
"I am Chief Psychologist and Administrator O'Mara," he said briskly, and with a nod to his left and right continued, "and these are my assistants, Padre and former Surgeon-Captain Lioren of Tarla, and the Sommaradvan former warrior-surgeon Cha Thrat. My principal assistant, Lieutenant Braithwaite, is manning the outer office. He is monitoring this interview and may put in a relevant comment or question. The proceedings will be informal and you may speak freely or interrupt at any time.
"For the present that is all you need to know about us," he ended, smiling, "but we need to know everything about you. Please speak."
Dr. Cerdal lay with the forward half of its body supported on part of a Melfan cradle so as to bring its head level with those of the interviewers. For several seconds it kept its jet-black Cemmeccan eyes only on O'Mara before the first low, gurgling words of its native speech came through their translators.
"First an observation, and questions," it said. "I am being interviewed for the most important post in this establishment, as was expected, by the present incumbent. But why am I to be questioned by and in the presence of subordinates? I had assumed the position to be one carrying complete authority and full responsibility for decision making. Is this authority and responsibility to be diluted? Is the position of administrator in fact a committee? Or is it that the present incumbent requires some form of moral support?"
Cha Thrat made a sound that did not translate, Lioren turned all four of its eyes in Cerdal's direction, and O'Mara pressed his lips tightly together to contain a verbal explosion. Perhaps, he thought angrily, the Cemmeccans were closer to the Kelgians than he had realized. This one appeared not, or maybe it was pretending not, to understand the concepts of diplomacy, tact, or even a simple show of respect for authority. It was the Padre, who was obviously having similar thoughts, who spoke first.
"My study of the Cemmeccan material in our library did not suggest that you belong to a particularly impolite species," it said. "Would you like to correct me, or comment?"
Cerdal's attention moved, reluctantly, O'Mara thought, to Lioren. It said, "I understand, and at times appreciate, polite behavior. But in essence politeness is a social lubricant that smoothes, but more often conceals, the rough surfaces of interpersonal contact that could be a later cause of conflict. No doubt there will be future cases here where the softer and more gentle contact will be the indicated therapy. During the present proceedings, however, I believe that a complete and honest response to questions will be of more long-term benefit to me than a pretense of subservience and obeisance. I do not believe that I am here to waste time."
From the desk communicator came the sound of Braithwaite clearing his throat. The lieutenant said, "Has the candidate, as an additional preparation for this interview, studied the hearsay evidence available to it regarding the similar behavioral characteristics of Administrator O'Mara in the hope that modeling itself on the present incumbent will increase its chances of landing the job?"
"Of course," said Cerdal without hesitation.
His anger had faded, but O'Mara chose to remain silent because the others were asking the questions he would have asked. And Cerdal, he thought, was handling itself well.
"Dr. Cerdal," said Cha Thrat, speaking for the first time, "since you may be the only Cemmeccan at the hospital for a long time, the future cases here that you mentioned earlier will involve beings not of your species. How many other-species patients have you treated?"
"Before I answer that question," Cerdal replied, "you must understand that I was on the staff of the largest one-species Cemmeccan hospital, which also had provision for the limited treatment of emergency admissions from the principal star-traveling species sent to us from the nearby spaceport. There was no provision for chlorine- or methane-breathers or the more exotic life-forms. I treated five cases, two surgically with Educator-tape assistance and three with psychotherapy."
"It is the latter three which interest us," said Cha Thrat. Without even a glance toward O'Mara for permission, it went on, "May we have the clinical details? A brief outline will suffice."
Cha Thrat was enjoying this, O'Mara thought. As a warrior-surgeon it was probably more highly placed in its Sommaradvan medical hierarchy than the candidate had been on Cemmecca, and it was letting its feelings show. He remained silent.
"The Melfan was a space-accident casualty," Cerdal replied, answering Cha Thrat although its eyes remained on O'Mara, "whose limbs had to be broken to enable it to fit into a tiny, species-unsuitable survival pod. A colleague repaired the physical damage, but as soon as it had regained partial mobility it made repeated attempts to escape from its room, and its emotional disturbance was so marked that it would or could not tell us what was wrong. I decided that our Cemmeccan accommodation, which for physiological reasons tends to be small and low-ceilinged and cramped by Melfan standards, was a factor which had reinforced the psychological damage caused by its recent confinement in a physiologically unsuitable survival pod. I moved the patient, together with its treatment frame and medical sensors, into an open, treeless area of our hospital's park. Within a few weeks it made a full recovery, both from its physical injuries and an associated manic claustrophobia; and was discharged.
"It is fortunate that the Melfan exoskeleton is waterproof," it added, "because it rains a lot on Cemmecca."
If it was an attempt at humor, O'Mara noted with approval, it was ignored by everyone. Lioren said, "Please continue."
"The second case was an Orligian with a history of stress-related illnesses associated with its job, a very responsible but temporary one, setting up the computer interface between our planetary network and the Monitor Corps establishment on Cemmecca. Questioning revealed that it was unmated and intensely dedicated to its work, which had involved its having to travel between many worlds during its entire adult life. I decided that the cause of its problem was mental fatigue combined with severe homesickness. But my investigation revealed that it wanted to return to the time as well as the place of its youth, so that the lengthy period of rest and recuperation on its home world that I prescribed was not entirely successful, although it was able to resume its off-planet career.
"The third case was a young, recuperating Kelgian who had sustained burn damage to its fur," Cerdal went on. "The area affected was small, but the delicate network of underlying nerve and muscle responsible for fur mobility was destroyed with no possibility of regeneration so that the patient, and every other member of its species, considered it to be grossly and permanently disfigured. Bearing in mind the part that the mobility of their emotion-sensitive fur plays in the courtship, coupling, and long-term mating process, the patient knew that it could never attract a life-mate or even join in the briefest of temporary liaisons, and it developed an increasingly severe, sex-based urge toward further self-damage which, had the attempts been successful, would have left its body in an even more disfigured state.
"It was treated for nearly a year," Cerdal went on, "during which it returned to its work specialty, but always working on Cemmecca and never appearing among other Kelgians. The periodicity of its attempts at self-disfigurement has been reduced. But it is not a successful case. Therapy continues."
Although none of them would ever know why, it was a very sensitive subject where O'Mara himself was concerned. He was glad when Braithwaite's voice broke the silence.
"On the subject of sex-based urges," said the lieutenant, "you will be the hospital's only Cemmeccan. Will this be a problem for you? If it will be, please describe how you plan to handle it or, if it won't be, why not?"
Cerdal's attention remained firmly on O'Mara as it replied, "One or more of you must already have informed yourselves regarding my species' mechanism of reproduction. But in case one or more of you are ignorant of the process I shall describe it briefly. Since none of you belong to my species and your interest is, I hope, clinical, I can do so with the minimum of embarrassment."
Cha Thrat moved two of its upper hands together in the sign of Sommaradvan apology, a gesture which was probably lost on the Cemmeccan, and said, "Please go on."
"There are three sexes," said Cerdal. "Two, whose function roughly approximates that of the male and female among bisexual species, and the mother. All are, of course, sapient, but in general the male equivalent tends to be less willing to accept the long-term responsibility of raising children and has to be influenced in subtle ways to become a parent by entering the mother person with his partner. Sexual coupling and procreation takes place between both partners inside the mother, who also takes part and who, making allowances for the increased body weight of the couple and the growing fetus, continues with normal day-to-day activities. When parturition takes place and the couple with their child are expelled, the mother ceases to have any further part in the proceedings. The period that the couple and their developing offspring spend inside the mother is said to be an intensely pleasurable time. I have not yet had the experience myself.
"As a rule the mothers are psychologically very stable personalities," Cerdal went on, "but occasionally there is a physical dysfunction in the rather crowded womb equivalent which necessitates surgical intervention. When this occurs the surgeon, completely encased in an operating garment so that it will not inadvertently contribute genetic material to the fetus or receive pleasure sensations from the mother, also enters for the briefest time necessary to repair the damage. There are sometimes psychological problems with male- or female-equivalent parents who wish to remain in or reenter the mother, but such cases are rare."
It paused for a moment. When nobody spoke, it added, "My own sexual needs have, I believe, been sublimated to my lifelong dedication to the profession of healing minds. While I will be the only member of my species in Sector General, the mechanics of Cemmeccan sex are such that I do not believe that I would ever be tempted to experiment sexually with the members of other species ..."
"Thank God for that," said Lioren softly.
"... so that now and in the future," it went on, "my entire mind, indeed my entire physical and mental output, will be devoted solely to the work of this hospital."
O'Mara stared at Cerdal for a few seconds while the Cemmeccan stared back. He was quite happy to let Lioren make the running.
"You will realize, Dr. Cerdal," said the Padre, "that your other-species experience is grossly inadequate for the duties you will be called on to perform here, and that you will need training if you are to have any hope of performing them to the standard required. This interview is not in itself of major importance. Much more depends on the assessment of your psychological reactions, general proficiency in dealing with patients whose minds are beyond anything in your previous experience, and the control or lack of it of your xenophobia on the conscious and unconscious levels during training."
"I understand," said Cerdal. It was still looking at O'Mara.
"Your training," Lioren continued, "will be given principally by what you may consider to be the subordinate members of this department, Braithwaite, Cha Thrat, and myself. We will be advising and more often as not criticizing and telling you where you went wrong. Will you have a problem with that?"
"No," said the Cemmeccan. "At least, not until my training is complete and my appointment to the job is confirmed. Then I may have critical words of my own to say. But I must repeat my earlier question."
"Go on," said Lioren.
Obviously choosing its words with care and with its attention still focused on O'Mara, Cerdal continued, "I am being considered for the most senior and responsible position in the hospital. Why then is this interview being conducted not by the present incumbent but by underlings? To a person of my high professional standing I find this demeaning, even insulting, unless there is a very good reason or excuse for your behavior. Bearing in mind the grey coloration of your head fur, is it possible that you are no longer capable of performing your duties adequately and require more youthful assistance? This would be a completely acceptable excuse."
Beside him Cha Thrat and Lioren were still as statues, and on the communicator he could hear Braithwaite making noises which suggested that someone was strangling him. All of them were waiting for a verbal explosion of nuclear proportions, but O'Mara had a contrary streak that delighted in doing the unexpected.
He smiled and said, "A possibility you have not considered, Dr. Cerdal, is that I am conducting not one interview but four, and that my assistants, unknown to themselves until this moment, are your fellow candidates for the job."
Before anyone could speak, O'Mara raised a hand and looked at each of them in turn. He said, "Spare me your token protestations of inadequacy. False modesty makes me sick. Your experience with this department's work makes all of your prime candidates as my replacement, as do your qualifications in medicine. The fact that the lieutenant's medical knowledge is rusty from disuse, and Cha Thrat is not allowed to practice here, and Lioren, for personal reasons, has forbidden itself to practice, is unimportant. The administrator will not be expected to treat patients.
Cha Thrat, Padre," he continued briskly, "I know exactly how much you have to do. Continue doing it. Braithwaite, free some time to show Dr. Cerdal around what it hopes will be its future empire. And remember, I will be watching and from time to time testing all of you. Your future promotion depends on your increased levels of professional competence, behavior under stress, and my own personal whim ..."
He allowed his face to crack into one of its rare smiles.
"... not necessarily in that order of importance," he ended. "Your preliminary interviews are over. You may go."
Chapter Eight
CLOSE ON half a century earlier, the idea of promotion was something that O'Mara had not felt happy about—although, to be honest with himself, the fact that it had never been offered might have played a large part in forming that feeling. Now, for the first time in his working life, he was being offered one and his first reaction was to shake his head. Vigorously.
"A facial expression reflecting pleasure," said Major Craythorne gravely, "and a simple word of thanks with a few questions tacked on regarding your exact status, job description, and increased level of pay is what I expected from you, not an outright refusal. This is the first step on a ladder you must have wanted to climb all your life, O'Mara, and with your proven capabilities the succeeding steps will be easier. What are you afraid of?"
Craythorne sighed, wrinkled his nose, and in a gentle, apologetic voice said, "I'd ask you to sit down for a while and talk about this, but you're filthy and you stink to high heaven as would the chair when the next person comes in to sit on it, so I'm afraid you'll have to take the good news on your feet. What the hell were you doing?"
"I was helping clear the blocked waste-disposal system on Level Thirty-Three when your—"
"What possible reason," the Major broke in, "did my xenopsychology assistant have for clearing blocked latrines?"
"Four reasons," O'Mara replied. "The squad leader had been called away; his men didn't know what the hell they were doing, while I had, ah, previous experience in the job; I didn't have anything urgent to do at the time; and, well, they asked me nicely for a change."
Like everything else about him, Craythorne's irritation was gentle and controlled. He said, "Listen carefully to me, O'Mara. You are never again to perform menial tasks like that just because you happen to have previous experience in them, or because you are asked nicely. From now on I want your position within this establishment to be clear to everyone. That is why I'm inducting you into the Monitor Corps and giving you an immediate promotion to ..."
He broke off and added, "At last it looks as if you're going to say something. Very likely it will be offensive, but say it anyway before you blow a fuse."
O'Mara took a deep breath and strove vainly for internal calm. He could almost feel his face radiating deep into the infrared. After a moment he said, "Sir, I'm not happy with the idea of promotion in a civilian job mostly because, unlike you, I don't have the good manners or the knack of giving orders without also giving offense, or maybe even starting a fight. If absolutely necessary I could try to improve my manners, lengthen my temper, and learn to live with that situation. But joining a routine-indoctrinated and discipline-oriented organization like the Monitor Corps, and going through basic training and having to stand at attention and salute and ... You know I don't take orders very well, so I wouldn't last a week. I've no wish to be personally offensive—"
"If it helps explain your obviously strong feelings in the matter," Craythorne broke in, "you have permission to be personally offensive. Within reason."
"All right," said O'Mara, staring into a pair of eyes which, he had found over the years, had the disconcerting ability to stare back without wavering. "In the civilian sector I've had painful experience with nominal superiors who made a pretense at the habit of command but who needed their nominal subordinates to keep their nose, or a less delicate body orifice, wiped clean. If I did join the Corps and some NCO or officer, present company excepted, told me to do something that I knew to be wrong, and I could be severely disciplined for not doing it, well ... Sir, joining the Monitor Corps is not an option."
