The question took Mven Mass by surprise. He did not doubt that he had seen Epsilon Tucanae. Was this, however, real contact with an inaccessibly distant world? Or had it been a combination of the deadly effect of the experiment on his organism and the burning desire to see that had produced a very clear hallucination? Could he announce to the whole world that the experiment had been a success, that fresh efforts, new sacrifices and further expenditure to repeat it would be justified? Could he say that the method adopted by Renn Bose was more successful than that of his predecessors? For fear of risking anybody else’s life they had foolishly carried out the experiment alone, just the two of them. But what had Renn seen? What could he tell them?… Would he ever be able to talk… if he had seen!.. Mven Mass stood up still straighter. “I have no proof that the experiment was successful. I don’t know what Renn Bose saw….”
Undisguised sorrow was expressed on Grom Orme’s face. A minute before that he had only been attentive, now he had become stern.
“What do you propose to do?”
“Please permit me to hand over the station to Junius Antus immediately. I am no longer worthy to direct it. Then, I’ll remain with Renn Bose to the end…” he stammered and then corrected himself, “… until the end of the operation. Then… then I’ll go away to the Island of Oblivion to await trial. I have already condemned myself!”
“Possibly you are right. Some of the circumstances are not yet clear to me so I must reserve my judgement. Your actions will be examined at the next meeting of the Astronautical Council. Whom do you consider the most fitting successor to your post — firstly for the work of rebuilding the satellite?”
“I don’t know a better candidate than Darr Veter!” The President of the Council nodded his consent. For some time he continued looking at the African as though he intended saying something, but instead he just made a gesture of farewell. The screen was extinguished just in time, for at that moment everything went hazy in Mven Mass’ head.
“You tell Evda Nahl yourself,” he whispered to the observatory Director who was standing near by; then he fell, made several attempts to get up and lost consciousness.
A little man with Mongoloid features, a merry smile and unusually imperative in his words and actions became the centre of attention at the Tibetan Observatory. The assistants that had come with him obeyed him with that glad willingness with which faithful soldiers had probably followed the great captains of ancient days. The authority of their teacher, however, did not suppress their own ideas and enterprise. They constituted a very harmonious little group of strong people worthy to give battle to man’s most terrible and implacable enemy — death!
When Ahf Noot learned that Renn Bose’s heredity record had still not been received he gave vent to exclamations of indignation, but was just as quickly calmed when he was told that it was being prepared by Evda Nahl herself and that she would bring it in person.
The Director of the observatory asked quietly what the card was needed for and in what way Renn’s distant ancestors could help. Ahf Noot screwed up his eyes slyly as though he were about to divulge a great secret.
“Accurate knowledge of the heredity structure of every person is needed both for an understanding of his psychological structure and to help make predictions in that field; it also provides important data on his neuro-physiological peculiarities, the resistance factor of his organism, immunity, selective sensitivity to traumas and allergy to medicines. The choice of treatment cannot be precise without an understanding of the heredity structure and the conditions under which his ancestors lived.”
The Director wanted to ask more questions but Ahf Noot stopped him.
“I’ve given you a sufficient answer for independent thought. I have no time for more!”
The Director muttered some apology which the surgeon did not wait to hear.
A portable operating theatre was erected at the foot of the mountain: water, electricity and compressed air were laid on. A huge number of workers offered their services and the building was ready in three hours. Ahf Noot’s assistants selected fifteen doctors from amongst the volunteer builders to service the surgical clinic that had been so rapidly built. Renn Bose was carried under a transparent plastic shield that had been fully sterilized and had had sterilized air blown through it by means of special filters. Ahf Noot and four of his assistants entered the first section of the operating theatre and remained there several hours where they were subjected to waves of bactericides and air saturated with antiseptic emanations until their very breath became sterilized. In the meantime Renn Bose’s body was subjected to deep freezing. Then their swift and confident work began.
The shattered bones and torn blood vessels were joined by means of tantalum hooks and plates that did not irritate the living tissues. Ahf Noot sorted out the injured intestines and stomach: they were quickly freed of the mortified parts, stitched up and placed in a jar of healing solution B 314 that was prepared in conformity with the somatic properties of the human organism. He then started on his hardest job. From under the ribs he removed the blackened liver, pierced with fragments of the rib bones, and, while his assistants held it suspended in position, he confidently treated the fine hairs of the autonomous nerves of the sympathetic and parasympathetic systems and pulled them into position behind it. The slightest harm done to these finer branches of the nerves might lead to serious, irreparable damage. With a lightning-like movement the surgeon cut through the portal vein and joined the tubes of artificial blood vessels to the two ends. Then he did the same with the artery and placed the removed liver in a jar of solution B 314. After an operation lasting five hours all Renn Bose’s injured organs were in separate jars. Artificial blood flowed through his body, pumped by the patient’s own heart and an auxiliary double-heart, a tiny automatic pump. Now they had to wait for the healing of the removed organs. Ahf Noot could not simply replace the liver with another from the planet’s surgical fund because that would require further investigation and the condition of the sick man would not permit of any delay. One of the surgeons stayed with the outstretched body (it looked just like an anatomized corpse) until the next shift of surgeons had undergone their sterilization.
The doors of the protective walls built round the operation theatre opened noisily and Ahf Noot, squinting and stretching himself like a beast of prey awakened from its slumber, appeared in the company of his blood-smeared assistants. Evda Nahl, tired and pale, met him. and handed him Renn Bose’s heredity record. Ahf Noot snatched at it eagerly, glanced through it and heaved a sigh of relief.
“I think everything will be all right. Come on and get some sleep.”
“But… suppose he wakes up?”
“Come along. He can’t wake up. Do you think we are so foolish that we did not take care of that?” “How long must we wait?”
“Four or five days. If the biological investigation is accurate and the calculations are correct we shall then be able to make another operation, putting all the organs back. After that, consciousness….” “How long can you stay here?”
“About ten days. The catastrophe fortunately coincided with a break in my teaching work. I’ll take advantage of the opportunity to have a look at Tibet, I’ve never been here before. It is my fate to live where there are moat people, in the inhabited zone!”
Evda Nahl gazed at the surgeon in admiration. Ahf Noot smiled gloomily.
“You’re looking at me in the same way as people used to look at an image of a god. That does not befit the cleverest of my pupils!”