Free Slave Ship by Frederik Pohl Page B

no more resentful than I. For all his grousing, Semyon was not unhappy with the job; so I turned the temperature-taking segment of it over to him, and myself took the daily check-chart to record his findings. It was, I reminded myself, important work; Lineback had said so himself, too important to entrust to an enlisted man. But it didn't seem like important work. I wondered what Elsie would think if she saw me squatting soberly on a bale of hay, while the world crept closer to the point of ignition. Elsie. I stared out at the brilliant white moon that, ten hours before, had been shining on Elsie, and I missed my wife very much. . . .
    "Logan! I have been talking to you!"
    "Sorry, Semyon." He was looking worried; he waved the thermometer at me.
    "Three of them, Logan! I examine three cattle, and they are hot. Epidemic, no? So I examine two more, and they are hot, too!"
    I looked at the chart—it was true, I had written it myself but had hardly noticed what I was writing. Semyon had taken the temperature of five cows, and they all hovered a bit over 100 degrees.
    I said: "It's not much of a fever, Semyon—"
    "Call Lineback."
    "But, listen, Semyon—"
    "Call Lineback."
    I called Lineback, getting him our of a pleasant bridge game at the club. "Sir, we've got some sick cattle here. They all have fevers, every one of them." And Semyon was chattering over my shoulder about the Orientals and secret germ weapons; Lineback sounded mad. But he promised to come right over.
    And he did, with the veterinary officer at his side. And that, children, is when I first learned that the normal temperature of a healthy cow is not 98-plus degrees, but 101.
     
    It was still a brilliant full moon as Semyon and I limped back to quarters, nursing our wounds; but I wasn't enjoying it. Commander Lineback had been pretty rough.
    "Ah, well," said Semyon philosophically, "at least we do not have that detail any more."
    I told him to shut up. But gradually I was soothed. The clouds, white and fleecy in the moonlight; a mutter of thunder from over the Gulf Stream; a gentle, warm wind—it was pleasant. I sighed. Semyon looked at me. "You are thinking of your wife?"
    "What?" I started to shake my head; but then I realized it was true—not with the top of my mind, no, but deep inside. "It's been a long time," I said.
    "Ah, perhaps. Two years, is it? That is not so terribly long."
    "It's long enough for me," I said shortly. "I wouldn't mind so much, if I were doing anything to shorten it." We walked along for a moment; but the night was no longer so pleasant. "The trouble is not hearing anything," I told him after a moment. "No letters. No more esping—Lineback'd put me in irons if I tried it again."
    "Terrible," he agreed.
    "And no chance in the world of ever getting anywhere near her. Semyon," I said sincerely, "that's the worst thing. At least when I was on the cruiser there was always the chance—"
    "Lieutenant Miller?"
    It was a runner from the commander's staff, peering at us through the moonlight, "Yes?"
    Commander's compliments," he said breathlessly, "and will you report to him at the milk shed—on the double?"
    "Oh-oh," said Semyon. We looked at each other. What was Lineback doing back at the milk shed?
    There was only one way to find out. We went back to the shed—perhaps not exactly on the double, but near enough to it so that we were both breathing hard.
    Lineback, the vet and a couple of other officers were a circle of bobbing torches in the darkness—not in the shed, but behind it, gathered around—a sick cow? Something on the ground, anyway. I couldn't quite see.
    Kedrick flashed his light in my face. "Miller," he said, "take a look." For once he wasn't fussy, he wasn't an old maid. His torch shone on what was on the ground.
    It wasn't a cow, it was a man. Or at any rate—it had been.
    "Oswiak," I said. But it wasn't easy to recognize him; the chin, the throat, one whole side of the jawline, all were horribly burned and tortured. He