RX
BY ALAN E. NOURSE
The tenth son of a tenth son was very
sick, but it was written that he would
never die. Of course, it was up to the
Earth doctor to see that he didn't!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
They didn't realize they were in trouble until it was too late to stopit. The call from Morua II came in quite innocently, relayed to theship from HQ in Standard GPP Contract code for crash priority, whichmeant Top Grade Planetary Emergency, and don't argue about it, fellows,just get there, fast. Red Doctor Sam Jenkins took one look at theflashing blinker and slammed the controls into automatic; gyros hummed,bearings were computed and checked, and the General Practice Patrolship Lancet spun in its tracks, so to speak, and began homing on thecall-source like a hound on a fox. The fact that Morua II was a ClassVI planet didn't quite register with anybody, just then.
Ten minutes later the Red Doctor reached for the results of the InitialInformation Survey on Morua II, and let out a howl of alarm. A singlecard sat in the slot with a wide black stripe across it.
Jenkins snapped on the intercom. "Wally," he yelped. "Better get uphere fast."
"Trouble?" said the squawk-box, sleepily.
"Oh, brother," said Jenkins. "Somebody's cracked the Contract Code orsomething."
A moment later a tall sleepy man in green undershorts appeared atthe control room, rubbing his eyes. "What happened?" he said. "We'vechanged course."
"Yeah. Ever hear of Morua II?"
Green Doctor Wally Stone frowned and scratched his whiskered chin."Sounds familiar, but I can't quite tune in. Crash call?" His eyecaught the black-striped card. "Class VI planet ... a plague spot! Howcan we get a crash-call from this?"
"You tell me," said Jenkins.
"Wait a minute. Seems to me there was some sort of nasty business—"
Jenkins nodded heavily. "There sure was. Five successive attemptsto establish a Contract with them, and five times we got thrown outbodily. The last time an Earth ship landed there half the crew wassummarily shot and the others came home with their ears cut off. Seemsthe folks on Morua II didn't want a Contract with Hospital Earth. Andthey're still in the jungle, as far as their medicine goes. Witchdoctors and spells." He tossed the Info-card down the chute with agrowl. "So now we have an emergency call from them in a Contract codethey couldn't possibly know."
The surgeon in the green undershorts chewed his lip. "Looks likesomebody in that last crew spilled the beans before they shot him."
"Obviously."
"Well, what are we doing on automatics? We're not going there, arewe?"
"What else? You know the law. Instantaneous response to anycrash-priority call, regardless of circumstances—"
"Law be damned," Stone cried. "File a protest with HQ. Cancel thecourse bearings and thumb our noses at them!"
"And spend the next twenty years scrubbing test tubes." Jenkins shookhis head. "Sorry, it took me too long to get aboard one of these tubs.We don't do that in the General Practice Patrol, remember? I don't knowhow Morua II got the code, but they got it, and that's all the fartherwe're supposed to think. We answer the call, and beef about it later.If we still happen to be around later, that is."
It had always been that wa