Read Online The World Wreckers by Marion Zimmer Bradley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Marion Zimmer Bradley
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crescent, floating low in a strangely colored night
sky.
The light in here was Earth-normal yellow, but when he went to the window he saw high, craggy, dark
mountains and a great, inflamed, red sun, already high in the sky. He'd come in late; they'd let him sleep, but probably someone would be coming for him sooner or later. Try as he would—and he had tried on
the ship that brought him here—he couldn't work up much enthusiasm for the project. Hell, he didn't
want to know more about the freak talent that had swept away his chosen career; he wanted to be rid of
it!
Oh, well, he thought, turning away from the strange sun and mountains and going toward the bathroom,
maybe this will help, and if not maybe it will help somebody else. Treat it like research—a chance to
research a rare and freakish disease. Like Madame Curie studying her own radiation burns, or Lanach on
Vega Nine doing work on space rot when he was literally rotting away with it.
Anyhow, there was no point to a long face. If his fellow members on the project were telepaths, a
cheerful one wouldn't fool them, but it might raise his own morale. By the time he had finished his bath
and dressed, he was singing under his breath. He was young and, against his own will, curious.
The hospital cafeteria, where they had told him last night to go for meals, was crowded at this hour.
David hated crowds, always had—it took too much work to shut out the sense of people jostling him
even when they weren't—but at least it was a familiar crowd, even though there were racial and ethnic
types he'd never seen before. Doctors and nurses, mostly in the caduceus-adorned uniform of Terran
Empire Medical, but they all had the unmistakable stamp of the profession. Many of the younger ones
were a single unfamiliar type he supposed must be Darkovan, swan-skinned with dark crisp-curling hair,
ridged foreheads, short broad six-fingered hands, and gray eyes.
He was finishing his breakfast when a young man, not in medical uniform but in green tunic and high,
soft leather boots with short-cut red hair, came up to him and said, "Doctor Hamilton? I recognized you at once. Will you come and join us, please? My name is Danilo. I hope the food is to your liking; that is one thing we can never predict. I know that here in the Terran HQ building they can adjust the lights and even the gravity to the planet of your origin, but cultural preferences about what is and what isn't good to eat—" he shrugged. "All they can do here, I guess, is offer a sort of inoffensive lowest common denominator and hope it won't offend anyone too much."
David chuckled. "In hospitals that's standard, I guess. As a matter of fact, I've gotten used to eating whatever they put in front of me and hoping I'll have time to finish it before somebody yells for me. If
you were to ask me what I just ate, I probably couldn't tell you under oath." He looked curiously at Danilo. "Are you on the hospital staff?" The kid didn't look old enough to be a doctor but you never could tell with some planetary types.
Danilo, however, offered no explanation of his status beyond a negative gesture. "Come along and meet the others on the project."
"Are—they—all here already?"
"Most of them. The Darkovan ones are lodged in the city, but at least at first, they felt that the facilities here might be more helpful. Jason—" Danilo raised his voice and a young doctor, hurrying past through the halls, came toward them. He was sturdy and dark-haired. David liked his looks at once. He said, "Dr.
Hamilton? How was the trip? I've never been off Darkover myself—born here. I'm Jason Allison." He
offered his hand and David shook it, realizing suddenly that this was what had been lacking in Danilo's
greeting. Darkovan custom? "I see Danilo's introduced himself. I'm a liaison man between Darkovan
medical staff and trainees and Empire medical people. Incidentally, I'm a doctor myself, though I don't
have time to practice
sky.
The light in here was Earth-normal yellow, but when he went to the window he saw high, craggy, dark
mountains and a great, inflamed, red sun, already high in the sky. He'd come in late; they'd let him sleep, but probably someone would be coming for him sooner or later. Try as he would—and he had tried on
the ship that brought him here—he couldn't work up much enthusiasm for the project. Hell, he didn't
want to know more about the freak talent that had swept away his chosen career; he wanted to be rid of
it!
Oh, well, he thought, turning away from the strange sun and mountains and going toward the bathroom,
maybe this will help, and if not maybe it will help somebody else. Treat it like research—a chance to
research a rare and freakish disease. Like Madame Curie studying her own radiation burns, or Lanach on
Vega Nine doing work on space rot when he was literally rotting away with it.
Anyhow, there was no point to a long face. If his fellow members on the project were telepaths, a
cheerful one wouldn't fool them, but it might raise his own morale. By the time he had finished his bath
and dressed, he was singing under his breath. He was young and, against his own will, curious.
The hospital cafeteria, where they had told him last night to go for meals, was crowded at this hour.
David hated crowds, always had—it took too much work to shut out the sense of people jostling him
even when they weren't—but at least it was a familiar crowd, even though there were racial and ethnic
types he'd never seen before. Doctors and nurses, mostly in the caduceus-adorned uniform of Terran
Empire Medical, but they all had the unmistakable stamp of the profession. Many of the younger ones
were a single unfamiliar type he supposed must be Darkovan, swan-skinned with dark crisp-curling hair,
ridged foreheads, short broad six-fingered hands, and gray eyes.
He was finishing his breakfast when a young man, not in medical uniform but in green tunic and high,
soft leather boots with short-cut red hair, came up to him and said, "Doctor Hamilton? I recognized you at once. Will you come and join us, please? My name is Danilo. I hope the food is to your liking; that is one thing we can never predict. I know that here in the Terran HQ building they can adjust the lights and even the gravity to the planet of your origin, but cultural preferences about what is and what isn't good to eat—" he shrugged. "All they can do here, I guess, is offer a sort of inoffensive lowest common denominator and hope it won't offend anyone too much."
David chuckled. "In hospitals that's standard, I guess. As a matter of fact, I've gotten used to eating whatever they put in front of me and hoping I'll have time to finish it before somebody yells for me. If
you were to ask me what I just ate, I probably couldn't tell you under oath." He looked curiously at Danilo. "Are you on the hospital staff?" The kid didn't look old enough to be a doctor but you never could tell with some planetary types.
Danilo, however, offered no explanation of his status beyond a negative gesture. "Come along and meet the others on the project."
"Are—they—all here already?"
"Most of them. The Darkovan ones are lodged in the city, but at least at first, they felt that the facilities here might be more helpful. Jason—" Danilo raised his voice and a young doctor, hurrying past through the halls, came toward them. He was sturdy and dark-haired. David liked his looks at once. He said, "Dr.
Hamilton? How was the trip? I've never been off Darkover myself—born here. I'm Jason Allison." He
offered his hand and David shook it, realizing suddenly that this was what had been lacking in Danilo's
greeting. Darkovan custom? "I see Danilo's introduced himself. I'm a liaison man between Darkovan
medical staff and trainees and Empire medical people. Incidentally, I'm a doctor myself, though I don't
have time to practice
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