Feet of Clay
crowded with natives. The smoke from half a dozen ofthe sputtering lamps hung like a shroud over the interior, and theEarthman's eyes were soon smarting. He wondered how the natives, withtheir much larger eyes, could stand it.
The injured boy lay on a pallet in the center of the hut. An animal skinhad been thrown over him, with the broken arm exposed. Dillon knelt byhim, and felt it over carefully.
"A clean break, thank God," he said, more to himself than his audience.
The boy whimpered, and he reached for the bag, and rummaged around.Finally he pulled out an already prepared hypo, loaded with a sedative.He swabbed the boy's good arm, and pressed the needle home.
The natives moved forward when they saw the needle, and some of thembegan to mutter. But the boy quickly dropped off into an untroubledsleep, and they settled down.
The Earthman took hold of the broken arm, and marvelled at the frailtyof it. The bones had to hold a lighter weight than those of Earthmen,and thus were correspondingly weaker. He felt that he could snap one ofthem with his hands.
He straightened the arm out, as gently as he could, and then pulled. Thebroken ends slid together with a satisfying pop, and he quickly boundthem with a splint from his bag. He wrapped the bandage tight, and tiedit. Then he arose, picking up his bag.
"He should be alright now," he said. "I'll stop by in the morning, whenhe's awake, and give him a going-over."
"His arm," said Bila. "It is ... fixed?"
"Yes. He's young, and he should heal fast. Three weeks from now he'll beout with the other children, playing games and just as active as ever."
"We thank you, starman," said Bila. "We have not the words to say justhow happy we are that you have helped us."
"It's nothing," said Dillon, embarrassed by the show of gratitude. "AllEarthmen would do the same."
"Ah, your magic must be even greater than that of the priests. It ismost unfortunate that the village priest was away. But the Gods havesmiled on us, by sending you instead."
"He'll be back soon, I hope?" said Dillon. "The priest, I mean."
"Alas, not for at least thirty days, and perhaps more. He knew not wherehis pilgrimage would lead him."
"But if you have more troubles like this?"
"Our misfortunes," said Bila, his face downcast. "If the Gods see fit toabandon us to the miseries of the world, what can mere men say? If somemust die, than they shall surely die."
"No!" He regretted the word the moment it was out, but it was too lateto recall it. The milk was spilt, and crying would be foolish at thispoint. "No. If you have troubles, come to me. I will do what I can,although I am not sure that it will be much."
"Ten million thanks, starman!" His eyes glistened with joy. "Our peopleshall be eternally grateful."
"You'd better save your thanks, until you're sure that I can help you.But right now, I'd appreciate a guide back to the post, and a lamp, so Idon't fall anymore."
"Of course. It shall be done immediately." He motioned for one of themen in the hut, who came with a lamp. Bila held the hangings aside, andthe two passed outside into the blackness again.
The trip back to the trader's shack passed without mishap and Dillonwent to sleep quite pleased.
* * * * *
Ten days passed. They were days of intensified effort for Dillon, as hewent about the task of setting up the rest of the post. The warehousecame first, and the living quarters. The office that had been servingdouble-duty reverted to its primary function.
Occasionally a few natives would drop around to gaze at thework-in-progress, but they would soon grow bored, and drift away toother amusements. He had twice been back to the village to look at theboy, but so far nothing else had come up to require his meagre medicalknowledge. He was beginning to think that he might last out until thepriest returned. He had been rereading the regulations covering contact,and the penalties were much too harsh for his liking. He began to worryabout hiding traces of his one experiment.
The noonday sun was on the wane when he finished wrestling the last of agroup of bins into the warehouse. He pulled out his kerchief, and wipedthe accumulated sweat from his eyes. The summer season was full on theland, and the heat was as bad as any he had seen on Earth.
He brought his lunch out to the office porch, and sank down in therocker that he had brought from his last post. There was a slight breezeblowing diagonally across the clearing in front of the building, and heshifted around to receive its full benefit.
The first bite was scarcely in his mouth when Bila came into sightaround the bend of the path. He cursed silently, and put down hissandwich. He stood up to welcome the alien.
"Tarsa, Bila," he said. "What brings you here today?"
"Sadness again wearies our people, and we know not what to do. The Godsare indeed angered with us, and our priest is still away."
"Just what is it this time?"
"It is Kylano. He is at death's door, and the messengers of the Gods canbe heard waiting to take him beyond." Two tears broke loose and rolleddown his leathery gray cheeks.
"The boy's father?" said Dillon. The alien nodded.
"But what is wrong with him?"
"Alas, we do not know. He was swimming in the lake, when a demonpossessed one of the fishes, and bit him on the leg. When he came out ofthe water, a fever lay heavily over him, and he has become unconscious."
"And you want me to save him." It was a statement, rather than aquestion, and the native recognized it as such.
"If it be within your power, starman. If you do not come, he must surelydie."
"All right, Bila. I'll do whatever I can." He ducked inside the office,and came out again with his bag. They set off down the path.
* * * * *
"Your second major mistake," said Cassidy. "You were lucky with the boy,but you should have come to your senses enough to leave the bag behindon the second call. You were just stepping out into deeper water."
"But the man was sick, and I didn't know what else to do but use themedicines. I couldn't let him die!"
"Why not?"
"Why not? I've got feelings and a conscience. That's why! I couldn'tjust stand by and do nothing. Especially when the sedative worked on theboy!"
"It would have been far better to let one man die than to have thealiens come to regard you as higher than their own priests."
"It's easy enough for you to say what I should have done here, but Ithink your own actions would have been far different if you had been inmy place."
"I doubt it. I'd never have been made trouble-shooter, if I didn't havethe brains to avoid a mess like that. I still think you're just plainstupid."
"My thoughts of you are better left unsaid. At any rate, when we got tothe village...."
* * * * *
It was the same hut, and a crowd that may or may not have been presentthe earlier night. The numbers were the same. The only change was thelack of the overhanging pall of smoke from the lamps.
The man occupied the same pallet as the boy, and the crowd made way forDillon as he moved to his side. It was readily apparent that he was veryill, and Dillon uttered a silent prayer that he had something in the kitto help him.
The leg wound was nasty and crusted over. He swabbed it clean, blanchingwhen he saw its depth. Steadying himself, he bound it tightly, and satback on his heels to ponder his next move.
The bandage would prevent any further infection, but the Earthman wasafraid the damage had already been done. The fever lay heavily on thenative, and he tossed and turned in his coma. The drugs in the bag wereall intended for use by Terrans only, and an attempt to aid the slightalien might only result in death. Whereas if he were left alone to rideout the fever, he just might come through all right.
Kylano let out a muted sob, and struck out wildly, nearly hitting Dillonin the face. He cursed, and turned to his bag, selecting the mostcatholic antibiotic it contained. He looked up at the watching crowd,but they just sta
red back impassively. He cursed again, and swabbed aspot on the native's arm, and thrust home the needle.
He threw the empty hypo back in the bag, and shut it savagely. Then hestood up, and looked around for Bila.
"A drink of water, please," he said, catching the other's eye.
"Certainly, starman," he replied, handing over a gourd.
Dillon drank deeply, then wiped his mouth. He handed back the gourd andpicked up his bag. As he pushed his way through the crowd, Bilafollowed.
"Kylano will be well now?" said the alien.
"I don't know. I just don't know. I hope so."
"Is there anything more you can