Epidemic Center Aralon Read online

  In the receiving section for normal reception bands there was an incomprehensible confusion of hundreds of voices. Sengu could hardly understand a single word. For the most part they spoke Intercosmo, which was the colloquial common language of the Arkonide Empire. All communications were in code.

  As Tiff continued to observe the starboard viewscreens, he saw two cylindrical spaceships moving swiftly toward the Gazelle. Before he could speculate on what he should do, they were already past him. They made a course change to the left and flew more or less in the same direction toward Aralon, without paying any further attention to him. Tiff had never experienced anything quite like this.

  Here they were approaching an unknown world that was highly civilized and nobody troubled themselves about them!

  He didn't have any further time to mentally review this phenomenon of which Pucky by now must already be informed... that is, if he wasn't asleep. Unfortunately there was no possibility to also receive communications with the body transmitter: the equipment worked only in one direction.

  Three other ships, also cylindrical, approached from the port side. They overtook the Gazelle and then spurted with a wild new velocity toward Aralon. In the magnifying viewscreen, Tiff was able to observe that they flew toward the main continent and prepared for a landing approach there.

  "There's a bit of traffic around here," he remarked dryly to Sengu, who had stared in open-mouthed amazement at the alien ships flying past them. "If all that wasn't a camouflage, I guess nobody is going to notice us."

  He didn't realize how close he had come to the truth with his assumption.

  A short circumnavigation was enough to be able to locate the spaceport. It was an open area with a smooth, synthetic surface, almost circular and having a diameter of some 180 miles.

  With the exception of Arkon, Tiff had never seen anything like this.

  The landed ships stood in long rows on the field, giant spherical bodies in the Arkonide style, cylinder-shaped giants and towering torpedo shapes. There were hundreds of different types, all told more than 10,000 ships.

  The incessant coming and going created such a confusion of traffic that Tiff thought he was dreaming. Writers of science fiction in the past had attempted to describe the life and activity of a spaceport of the future, somewhat along these lines, and they had been ridiculed. Now—he himself was experiencing a greater fantasy than those authors in their wildest dreams had tried to describe.

  The lower he came toward the ground, the more tremendous was the impression. The rows of ships formed regular avenues in which ground vehicles swiftly traveled back and forth, thus establishing a connection with the flat-looking buildings that bordered the great field in a ring formation.

  Tiff descended lower and finally saw a free space large enough for the relatively small Gazelle. He had the impression of being a dwarf among giants as he set the ship down gently and cut off the engines.

  But none of the giants appeared to have noticed his arrival. Nobody troubled themselves at all about him. It was just as if he had merely parked his car in a space on Earth among thousands of other vehicles.

  His neighbor was a cylindrical vessel a thousand feet high. Tiff noticed how some of the crewmembers descended to the ground in an elevator and got into a waiting ground vehicle, whereupon they simply drove away. They did not offer the scoutship so much as a backward glance.

  In this forest of metal monsters, he had become disoriented. With the help of the ship's instruments he was able to make a rough estimate where the long buildings with the large display of flags were located, which he had noticed shortly before his landing. He assumed that the flags were some sort of signal system that indicated the port authority.

  Sengu continued to stare with increased amazement at the countless number of spaceships. By his own reckoning he figured that an average of 50 ships landed and took off every minute. There was no evidence at all of any kind of security system at the spaceport. Perhaps it might have seemed to the Aras as ridiculous as on Earth to control massive auto parking by radar signals.

  "It beats me!" grunted Tiff and he gave it up. "So this is the way they operate on a really civilized world. And to think that only 20 years ago a single rocket takeoff on Earth would create a greater sensation."

  "Well, times change," concluded Sengu, "and they change awfully fast. Anyway, here comes the ground vehicle already that's probably going to pick us up." He was simply seeing through the walls of the Gazelle, "So it looks like the place isn't completely without organization."

  "Ground vehicle?"

  "Yes, and in fact it doesn't have a driver. It's remote-controlled."

  Tiff shook his head but got hold of himself again. "Well leave Thora in her cabin. The entrance lock is secured enough so that no one can get in. But I don't think that anybody around here is inclined to steal a ship, even though it looks like they could get away with it, with nobody noticing a thing. We won't take any weapons since were dealing here with a peaceable race of people."

  He said this with a touch of cynicism as he blocked off his controls. Thora's cabin was locked. The Arkonide had just been given an intravenous feeding injection and she was sleeping. Then they left the Gazelle, secured the airlock and jumped down onto the hard, smooth ground.

  The ground vehicle stood about 10 feet away and waited with an open door. In the place of a driver, an automatic instrument panel took up the forward section. Behind it there was sufficient room for 6 passengers.

  They had no sooner seated themselves than the door silently closed upon them. The vehicle set itself in motion and raced along the avenues formed by the towering spaceships. It turned once toward the left and then increased its speed.

  From here to the edge of the landing field it was perhaps 12 miles if one were to travel in a straight line. Tiff was completely occupied in transferring his mental impressions to Pucky, whose face he would have given a lot to see right now.

  It was impossible for Tiff to describe the different details of the types of ships he saw during their hurtling passage among them. He satisfied himself with giving an overall picture of the place and finally developed a system of pointing out at least the rough particulars. Sengu grew tired of the monotonous view; he leaned back in the upholstery and closed his eyes.

  The journey lasted almost 10 minutes and then the spaces between the ships opened up until finally the rest of the field widened out before the eyes of the Terranians. The car drove directly to the long building that was decked out with all the flags that Tiff had already seen from the air.

  They crossed an entrance control area. A long row of cars stood next to each other as though on a parking lot. They found an opening and the vehicle they were in turned into it as though guided by an invisible hand.

  The doors opened.

  Tiff nodded to Sengu and they got out. No one asked for any parking fee and Tiff wasn't too certain that the credit charge plate against Arkonide currency values would have been acceptable but Khrest had taken the precaution of providing him with it anyway.

  "Well, what now?" asked Sengu helplessly. The distant forest of ships was somewhat obscured from their view by the mass of parked vehicles. "Where do we go from here?"

  Tiff straightened out his uniform. He affected a weak smile and pointed to the nearby building. "There!"

  There was a lively traffic of pedestrians in front of the building. Humanoids went in and came out again. Among them Tiff noticed more than once figures that were not human but because of the distance he could not quite identify them. A Mooff inside its pressure chamber was rolled by and it too disappeared into the official-looking building. Wide and brightly colored steps led up to a main entrance, behind which booth-like counters were seen.

  Tiff returned the nod of a tall man who hurried past them. Who was he? Perhaps a Springer? Or the member of another race that was related to the Arkonides?

  Slowly and with a growing feeling of relative insecurity, the two Terranians climbed the steps to
the building. There it would be decided whether or not Rhodan's theory had practical application.

  A sturdy little man, only about 3 feet tall, came by wearing a hermetically sealed spacesuit and cast a searching glance in their direction. Tiff thought that he perceived behind the faceplate a frog-like countenance that was veiled by a greenish misty atmosphere.

  "Looks like every race in the galaxy has a rendezvous here," he whispered to Sengu, whose slanted eyes narrowed suspiciously as he took in his surroundings. "I could never have imagined there was anything like this anywhere."

  The Japanese nodded in agreement. "There's sure more going on here than on Arkon. It looks more to me like the capital world of an empire."

  This was an acute observation and the justification for it was not to be denied. Tiff admitted it secretly to himself—and then he finally saw his first Aras.

  Me the Springers and the Galactic Traders, they were descendants of the Arkonide settlers. Their tall 6 or 7-foot figures were albino in nature. The colorless skin, the white hair and the reddish eyes were sufficient to support such a classification. They were incredibly thin and seemed to consist of mere skin and bones.

  The Aras, 3 in number, cast curious glances at the 2 Terranians but then ceased to concern themselves further about them. They wore white cloaks which bore shining gold insignias at the chest level. Their movements were grave and stately in manner and gave evidence of self-assurance and discretion.

  "They don't seem to be overly conceited," Sengu muttered when the 3 men were out of earshot. "What are those white cloaks supposed to represent?"

  "Perhaps they are physicians," Tiff suggested thoughtfully. "That wouldn't be too surprising at a spaceport, you know."

  They arrived at the main entrance and went inside with several other humanoids. Somebody here somewhere would finally have to take notice of them. They saw nothing but counter booths spreading out right and left. Behind the counters sat female Aras who seemed to be answering questions. At least they were carrying on conversation with the people who were standing in front of the booths and they were shoving various printed forms here and there and filling out papers.

  The 3 Aras in the white cloaks walked through the crowd and searched about in all directions. It was as though they were looking for something. Then they finally disappeared through a rear door.

  Tiff gave Sengu a light nudge in the ribs and moved toward the nearest counter booth.

  A quite pretty Ara looked up at them with interest.

  Tiff cleared his throat but before he could open his mouth to ask a question the girl spoke to him in colloquial Intercosmo, "Here is your form. Please fill it out."

  Tiff took the folded sheet and for a second or so he stared dumbfounded at the familiar characters. He had learned the language of the Arkonides in the hypno-school. It would not be difficult for him to answer the questions that appeared on the form. It was only a matter of whether or not he felt like answering everything that was there.

  He nodded to the girl and went with Sengu. to one of the numerous writing desks that stood in the wide hall. A magnetically secured writing instrument was available for all visitors at each desk. Tiff noted with some amusement that the experience here was the same as one might expect on the Earth in a similar situation. He placed the form on the writing panel, took up the marking rod and stared with considerable wonderment at the first question that appeared under the normal request for name and home planet:

  What is the nature of the sickness that brings you to Aralon? (Give colloquial designation or describe symptoms.)

  Sengu looked over Tiffs shoulder and wrinkled up his face quizzically. "Maybe they think every space traveler is sick or something?"

  Tiff didn't answer. He kept on reading:

  2). Do you wish a direct treatment and immediate discharge or is a longer convalescence planned? 3). Indicate the desired class of treatment. 4). Do you have hospitalization insurance under the Arakos Plan or do you have another type of insurance? (Please give exact details.)

  Tiff looked up and met Sengu's gaze. He muttered uncertainly, "Maybe I picked out the wrong booth. Maybe they've got a special department here for sick space travelers."

  "Well," suggested the Japanese, "why don't we just go try another place?" Tiff shoved the folded form into his pocket and went calmly over to another booth that had just become free. Without even looking up at him, the pretty but painfully thin Ara girl shoved a form over to him. Tiff took it, although he already knew that it was no different from the one he had just discarded.

  The truth was gradually dawning on him. They both went back to the writing desk. Tiff took up the writing rod and began to fill out the form.

  Name: Thora, of the House of Zoltral; Arkon System. Form of sickness: Hyper-Euphoria. Place of occurrence: the planet Honur, Thatrel System. Desired type of treatment: First Class. Insurance: private patient. Form of treatment: direct and for immediate discharge.

  Sengu shook his head several times and looked cautiously all around. The situation was gradually beginning to be a little weird for him. Nobody paid any attention to them. The hall was filled with a big push and press of people as in any market place. Quite frequently he noticed Aras in white smocks who moved slowly and with self-assurance among the throng examining new arrivals. They spoke to some of them, conversed awhile and then continued onward.

  "Tiff, I don't understand all this! Where are we? What's going on here? Have we gone crazy?"

  Tiff signed his name with a flourish at the bottom of the filled out form and winked confidentially at Sengu. "My dear friend, we have not lost our minds and as for what is happening here, it's quite simple: we have landed on Aralon, the central world of the Aras, which is a race made up entirely of medics and their assistants. So what could be more natural than to make the whole planet into one big hospital? That's right, Sengu: we're standing in the reception hall of one big hospital. Whoever comes to Aralon is a sick person. He wants to be cured. He can only find a cure in this place, which is the source of all sicknesses. The Aras have to make a living, you know—so they live on the sicknesses of other people."

  A great light began to dawn for Sengu. The Aras in their white cloaks and smocks—they were doctors who idly sauntered about and looked over the new patients. The many application booths were places where the new admittances were registered and classified according to the type of sickness and the method and means of payment.

  "One planet—a single hospital? I—I can't grasp it!"

  "Why not? I find it quite logical. We should have known it before we even landed. So now I've filled out Thora's application form. All we have to do is turn it in and see what happens."

  "And what about us? Don't we have to announce ourselves some way?"

  "Well, apparently for the healthy ones there's no requirement for any kind of signing in. Apparently, healthy people don't stick around on Aralon any longer than is necessary. They bring their sick friends or members of their families here and then take off again. Later, they pick up the cured patients again. It's a very simple system—and certainly very profitable. The whole planet lives off of this trade."

  He smiled briefly and very coldly, then took the completed form and marched over to the nearest booth. Sengu followed him with a very strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  The Ara woman took the form and glanced through it swiftly, then looked up at Tiff with a courteous smile. "This... Thora... from the clan of Zoltral... is she related to you?"

  It sounded a little suspicious. Naturally anyone could see at first glance that Tiff and Sengu were not Arkonides by any stretch of the imagination. There were so many different races of people in the Arkon Empire that the Ara woman certainly didn't have any idea to which of them the two visitors belonged.

  "No, naturally not. We're bringing her here merely by order of her clan."

  The girl nodded and made a small notation on the form before she laid it down. However she didn't seem to be completely satisfied. Wi
th a renewed smile she leaned forward slightly and looked into Tiff's eyes as though she were searching there for an answer. "It's not really my business but what system do you come from? Not from Heroinka?"

  Tiff shook his head so emphatically that one might have assumed he considered Heroinka to be hell. "My home planet is Terra, In the Sol System," he said casually. "Are you familiar with it?"

  She shook her head just as emphatically as Tiff had before. "Never heard of it! We've never had any patients from that planet. Where is it located?"

  Tiff shrugged his shoulders. "A long way from here—many thousands of light-years."

  Her eyes opened wide and she stared incredulously at Tiff. Then she laughed quite melodiously. It made her look particularly pretty and cute. "You're joking! No system can be more than 115 light-years from here. At least, not if it's still a part of the Empire."

  "Terra," said Tiff, slowly and deliberately, "does not belong to the Empire."

  The Ara girl suddenly stopped laughing. She made a few more notations on the form and tossed it into a metal container. There was a short, swift suction sound and the form disappeared.

  She took a round metal disc from a compartment and gave it to Tiff. "Use this to pay the ambulance for bringing Thora out of your ship. The vehicle will bring her automatically to the correct station. You consign the patient and then return to your ship. I wish you a long life..." And she turned to the next visitor, who was a formless something in a pressure suit and breathing mask.

  Tiff pulled Sengu away with him. He had shoved the metal coin out of sight into his pocket. When they were finally standing outside, they gave an involuntary sigh of relief. The air was good and mildly warm, reminding them of an Earthly spring day.

  Tiff was gravely troubled. "They're making it pretty darn hard for us to attract any attention here. It's just like in a regular hospital on Earth. There, anybody can go inside without being questioned as to who he is and what he wants—assuming, of course, you're talking about a very large hospital. On the other hand, if you walk into an ordinary tenement house, everybody would be craning their necks and wanting to know who you were and whom you'd come to see. Well, this entire planet is one big hospital. It's no wonder it makes no difference to them who we are. If we're just bringing in a patient and we have money..."