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condescendingly. “It is a question of physiological, specifically neurological, anomalies that demand immediate investigation.”
    “Too much for a dumb constable to understand, hmm?” The officer straightened in her seat and glared at the neurologist. “What I meant was—see if you can keep up with me here—in what way involving the official constabulary of the city of Reides is this missing individual unique? What crime has he committed? What danger to the citizenry at large does he present? What illegal or antisocial activities has he been involved in? What threats to the hospital or the hospital staff has he made?” Pad at the ready, she sat waiting.
    It was a moment before Marinsky finally replied. “Well—none, actually.”
    The officer made a show of entering this into her pad. “None. I see.” She looked up. “Is the patient a danger to anyone, then? Or are you all just upset that someone waltzed out of your hospital without filling out the appropriate eighty pages of paperwork?”
    Sherevoeu brightened. “The patient does indeed represent a real danger. To himself. Based on what little information we were able to obtain, we believe that without immediate medical supervision and follow-up treatment, he could very well die.”
    “Correct me if I’m wrong, Doctor,” the officer mused aloud, “but to a certain degree couldn’t that diagnosis apply to a good portion of the city’s citizenry?” Before Sherevoeu could reply, she raised a hand. “That wasn’t a question requiring an answer. Is this patient’s condition in any way contagious?”
    Marinsky hesitated before being compelled to answer. “We do not think so, no. He needs to be examined so that his unusual condition can be treated. That’s all. We just want to help him.” One hand rested within the other on her lap. “We have only his best interests at heart.”
    “Uh-huh. I’m sure you do.” Rising, the officer gestured with her pad. “You know, the police in this city have tangible things to do—running down criminals, protecting the public, stopping fights, trying to solve actual crimes. That’s why we prefer to receive reports like yours via the box. It conserves manpower and saves money. So far I’m not hearing anything that leads me to believe this to be an especially sensitive matter demanding the immediate allocation of scarce departmental resources.”
    The head of hospital security, muttering to himself, led the visiting trio out of his office. “We just feel it’s important that this be kept as confidential as possible,” Marinsky was telling the officer, “for the patient’s sake more than anything else. Information sent through the box is often intercepted by the media. If this were to be splashed all over the tridee, the patient’s right to privacy would be seriously compromised.”
    “ If anyone in the media was interested,” the officer pointed out, “which, given the very general nature of your report, I don’t think they would be.” She stretched, the lightweight blue-gray material of her tunic lifting with her shoulders. “That’s a choice you made, however. Just don’t make a habit of this sort of thing. Next time you need the police for something like this, use the box.”
    “We will,” Marinsky assured her, giving her colleague and superior a firm nudge with one forearm to preserve her silence.
    The officer sighed. “We’ll see if we can find your missing Arthur Davis. His being well above average height should help. But Reides City is a big place. There are a lot of tall human males here.” She finally relaxed a little. “I know. I’m regularly on the lookout for them myself.”
    Thanking the hospital chief of security for his help, the doctors watched him trundle back to his office, still muttering to himself.
    “I did not find that officer very responsive.” Like his tone, Sherevoeu’s expression was pinched. “Nor did I approve of the way you repeatedly truckled to her.”
    “She