The Kruton Interface Read Online Free PDF Page B

think I think it is?”
    “Sir, please give us a chance.”
    “I’m lost,” Wanker said blackly. “I’m doomed. The chief of staff has it in for me. I have enemies in high places. I—” Wanker stopped wringing his hands and tried to pull himself together. “Never mind, never mind.”
    Rhodes began, “Sir, when we get under way, I think you’ll—”
    “Who’s missing here?” Wanker looked about wildly. “Somebody’s missing.”
    Rhodes said, “Yes, sir. The chief medical officer.”
    Wanker sneered. “Of course! What ship’s complement would be complete without the standard-issue ship’s doctor, middle-aged and alcoholic, crusty but benign. Well, what’s the guy’s name?” He glanced at the clipboard. He shut his eyes. “I can’t believe it.”
    “I guess it is a strange name,” Rhodes admitted.
    “Seamus O’Gandhi? What’s strange about that? You meet Irish Hindus every day.”
    “Exactly, sir. As you know, during the Great Human Diaspora after the invention of the quantum drive, many planets were populated by vastly dissimilar cultures and ethnic groups.”
    Wanker looked at Rhodes. “If I know that, why are you telling me?”
    “Just by way of explanation, sir.”
    “Thanks,” Wanker said dryly. “Let’s see here. Oh, he’s not alcoholic at all, is he?”
    “Doc O’Gandhi’s not an especially heavy drinker.”
    “No, he’s a pill-popper!”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “A drug fiend.”
    “Sir, we don’t like to use that kind of judgmental terminology.”
    “Heaven forbid. Says here he has an ‘occupational disability.’ Well, makes sense, he’s constantly handing out pills. You know, they used to discharge people from the service for this sort of behavior.”
    “You can’t be discharged for a disability, sir.”
    “Of course not! Hush my mouth. Never, no, never. Okay, what else have we got here? ‘Malpractice’...” He snorted. “And … what the hell’s this?”
    “Er, self-explanatory, sir.”
    This lime Wanker did a double take, his eyes wide in disbelief. “‘Clinically dead on duty.’ Clinically dead?”
    Rhodes said, “He overdoses a lot, sir “
    “There’s practically nothing left of the man. He has a mechanical heart, a surrogate liver, and one cyborg lung.”
    “I’m afraid he’s due for an overhaul.”
    “I can’t believe this man is on active service!”
    “Sir, the Space Forces don’t attract a lot of qualified physicians. The pay is relatively low, and, well… you know.”
    “But this is ridiculous. The man is a walking medical catastrophe.”
    “He has many problems, Captain, that I’ll grant you.”
    “Occupational disability? From the looks of his own medical profile, his blood is a chemical laboratory.”
    “He takes pills to steady his nerves.”
    “So steady he can’t move. Where is he, by the way?”
    Rhodes said, “I ordered him to report to the bridge a while ago, sir. He should be along any minute.”
    Wanker looked skeptical. “God help us if a medical emergency were to arise.”
    Rhodes was about to say something further when he was interrupted by the hiss of the drop tube. Everyone looked toward it.
    The load that the tube delivered crumpled to the deck. It was the body of an old man wearing a turban and breechcloth, both dyed kelly-green, along with a standard-issue tunic. His skin looked like cracked parchment. The man’s overall hue was medium dark, though light enough to be suffused with a sickly grayish-yellow pallor.
    “What is this man, an Irish Gunga Din?” Wanker asked in utter dismay.
    Wanker, Rhodes, and crew stared while the body lay there, motionless.
    “Well, I mean really,” Wanker said, unsure of what to do. “Shouldn’t somebody help the poor guy?”
    “Oh, he’ll come around,” Rhodes said. “Backup systems will kick in any moment.”
    “Backup systems?”
    “The bionic medical systems, sir. In his body.”
    “Oh. Yes, yes, good. But—” Wanker didn’t know what to make of it.
    With a sudden