Tag: Medicine

Of Mist, and Grass, and Sand by Vonda N. McIntyre

Of Mist, and Grass, and Sand by Vonda N. McIntyre (Analog, October 1973) takes place at a tribal settlement in the desert where Snake, a female healer, is treating a sick young boy. It soon becomes apparent that she does not use conventional treatments:

She had to annoy Mist to make her come out. Snake rapped on the bag and finally poked her twice. Snake felt the vibration of sliding scales, and suddenly the albino cobra flung herself into the tent. She moved quickly, yet there seemed to be no end to her. She reared back and up. Her breath rushed out in a hiss. Her head rose well over a meter above the floor. She flared her wide hood. Behind her, the adults gasped, as if physically assaulted by the gaze of the tan spectacle design on the back of Mist’s hood. Snake ignored the people and spoke to the great cobra, focusing her attention by her words. “Ah, thou. Furious creature. Lie down; ’tis time for thee to earn thy dinner. Speak to this child, and touch him. He is called Stavin.” Slowly, Mist relaxed her hood and allowed Snake to touch her. Snake grasped her firmly behind the head and held her so she looked at Stavin. The cobra’s silver eyes picked up the yellow of the lamplight. “Stavin,” Snake said, “Mist will only meet you now. I promise that this time she will touch you gently.”

Mist is the one of three snakes that Snake has (Sand is a rattlesnake, and Grass is a smaller “dreamsnake” she uses for pain relief and euthanasia).
After Snake lets the cobra “taste” the boy with his tongue, she meets with the tribe’s female leader and asks for food for her pony, and for someone to help her with Mist through the night. Snake then feeds Mist a small animal that she has treated with drops from a vial.
She is joined by Arvin, one of the male tribesmen, and they spend several hours restraining the cobra, which repeatedly convulses as it manufactures a treatment for the boy’s tumour. Eventually, day comes, and Mist is ready for the boy but, when Snake goes back to the tent, she discovers (spoiler) that Grass, who she left to comfort the child, has been have killed by the frightened parents. Even though she is distraught Snake treats the boy by letting Mist bite him and inject the venom treatment.
Snake later comes close to suffering the same fate as Grass even thought the boy’s tumour starts shrinking (the tribal members are a superstitious and fearful lot), but the tribal leader intervenes to let her leave safely. Arvin wants to go with her, but Snake tells Arvin that she must return to the city where she was trained and see if she can get a replacement dreamsnake (there is the briefest hint in the story that this is a post-nuclear holocaust world). Snake promises him that if she can appease her superiors, she will return.
This is an original piece and a pretty good one too—what also marked it out at the time, apart from its original idea, was the more subdued writing style, and the story’s matriarchal society (unusual for most mid-70s SF). However, some of the novelty wears off on the second or third reading, and it also feels a little fragmentary (it is part of the Hugo and Nebula winning novel, Dreamsnake,1 which I’ve also read).
***+ (Good to Very Good). 8,200 words. Story link.

1. Of Mist, and Grass, and Sand was the first chapter of the novel Dreamsnake (1978); The Serpent’s Death (Analog, February 1978) was chapter two of the novel; and The Broken Dome (Analog, March 1978) is a condensation of the last half of chapter 9 through to chapter 12 (the last hundred pages of the book).

Sector General by James White

Sector General by James White (New Worlds #65, November 1957) is the first of a long series of stories,1 and it gets off to a pretty good start with an alien spaceship coming out of hyperspace beside the Sector Twelve General Hospital:

The Telfi were energy-eaters. Their ship’s hull shone with a crawling blue glow of radioactivity and its interior was awash with a high level of hard radiation which was also in all respects normal. Only in the stern section of the tiny ship were the conditions not normal. Here the active core of a power pile lay scattered in small, sub-critical, and unshielded masses throughout the ship’s Planetary Engines room, and here it was too hot even for the Telfi.
The group-mind entity that was the Telfi spaceship captain—and crew—energised its short-range communicator and spoke in the staccato clicking and buzzing language used to converse with those benighted beings who were unable to merge into a Telfi gestalt.
“This is a Telfi hundred-unit gestalt,” it said slowly and distinctly. “We have casualties and require assistance. Our classification to one group is VTXM, repeat VTXM….”  pp. 4-5

After this the story continues with Dr Conway, a medic who has recently arrived at the Sector General. As he wanders around its corridors, we learn that (a) all species are described by a four letter codes, (b) there are doctors from a variety of species in the hospital (c) the hospital has multiple treatment environments, and (d) the pacifistic Conway does not like the Monitors, the “military peacekeepers”, who run the hospital.
The rest of the tale is a fairly episodic affair. Conway is summoned to treat the Telfi, but first has to go to the tape room, where he will be programmed with an alien physiology learning tape. When Conway sees the Chief Psychologist in charge of the process, O’Mara, is a Monitor, Conway’s attitude shows. O’Mara subsequently tells Conway that he wants to talk to him after the tape programming is removed.
Conway then goes to treat the Telfi, later dodging the interview with O’Mara by not getting the programming removed. Instead, he goes on his rounds but, after dealing with his first patient, a hypochondriac crocodile-like being called Chalder, Conway starts to feel cold and lonely. This turns out to be a side-effect of the learning tape, which is making Conway act like a Telfi, and his symptoms develop to the point that he leans against the dining hall oven and scorches his clothes. When he eventually recovers consciousness he gets a dressing down from O’Mara for not mentioning it was his first tape (which made him more susceptible to what happened).
The next part of the story sees Conway encounter a large number of Monitor troops who have arrived at the station; they have been in combat and need treatment, and this causes the doctor to do more brooding. Before he can consult another doctor about the way he feels, more troops arrive needing attention. As he treats them Conway learns that they have been intervening in a human-DBLF (a caterpillar-like alien) war, and that the Monitor who is telling Conway about this looks as disgusted as he does. Eventually, Conway learns the Monitors aren’t the warlike people he thinks they are, and that his own social group is a “protected species”:

Conway said, “What?”
“A protected species,” he repeated. “Shielded from the crudities of present-day life. From your social strata—on all the worlds of the Union, not only on Earth—come practically all the great artists, musicians, and professional men. Most of you live out your lives in ignorance of the fact that you are protected, that you are insulated from childhood against the grosser realities of our interstellar so-called civilisation, and that your ideas of pacifism and ethical behaviour are a luxury which a great many of us simply cannot afford. You are allowed this luxury in the hope that from it may come a philosophy which may one day make every being in the galaxy truly civilised, truly good.”  pp. 26-27

At the end of this lecture/data dump (spoiler), a spaceship crashes into the station, and a blundering alien patient runs amok in the gravity control section. This sets up an extended final act, which sees Conway make a perilous journey into the area where the alien is rampaging. There he undergoes a crisis of conscience when he is told to kill the alien to stop the catastrophic casualties that the fluctuating gravity field is causing. (Conway eventually, and reluctantly, does so, but the author bottles out of his Trolley Problem2 by having Conway later discover that the alien has the sentience of a dog).
This story has some pretty good parts (the multi-species hospital, the interesting aliens, etc.) but it is (a) overlong (the couple of thousand words after the climax are largely redundant, not to mention Conway’s overdone—and at times somewhat unconvincing and ill-informed—pacifistic agonising), (b) uneven (the gobbets of exposition and moralising), and (c) generally gives the impression of a writer who is trying to run before he can walk. The later stories were better, but this is a promising start.
**+ (Average to Good). 17,700 words. Story link.

1. The ISFDB page for the Sector General series is here.

2. The Wikipedia page for the philosophical conundrum of the Trolley Problem.