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Nourse, Alan E., 1928-1992

"Star Surgeon"

.. but _he_ would know....
"Well," Black Doctor Tanner was saying, "speak up. I can't waste much
more time dealing with you. If you have something to say, say it."
Dal sighed. He lifted Fuzzy down and slipped him gently into his jacket
pocket. "These charges against me are not true," he said.
The Black Doctor shrugged. "Your own crewmates support them with their
statements."
"That's not the point. They're not true, and you know it as well as I
do. You've deliberately rigged them up to build a case against me."
The Black Doctor's face turned dark and his hands clenched on the papers
on the desk. "Are you suggesting that I have nothing better to do than
to rig false charges against one probationer out of seventy-five
thousand traveling the galaxy?"
"I'm suggesting that we are alone here," Dal said. "Nobody else is
listening. Just for once, right now, we can be honest. We both know
what you're trying to do to me. I'd just like to hear you admit it
once."
The Black Doctor slammed his fist down on the table. "I don't have to
listen to insolence like this," he roared.
"Yes, you do," Dal said. "Just this once. Then I'll be through."
Suddenly Dal's words were tumbling out of control, and his whole body
was trembling with anger. "You have been determined from the very
beginning that I should never finish the medical training that I
started.


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