"Heinlein, Robert A - Successful Operation" - читать интересную книгу автора (Heinlein Robert A)

FOREWORD

For any wordsmith the most valuable word in the English language is that short, ugly, Anglo-Saxon monosyllable: No!!! It is one of the peculiarities in the attitude of the public toward the writing profession that a person who would never expect a free ride from a taxi driver, or free groceries from a market, or free gilkwoks from a gilkwok dealer, will without the slightest embarrassment ask a professional writer for free gifts of his stock in trade.
This chutzpah is endemic in science fiction fans, acute in organized SF fans, and at its virulent worst in organized fans-who-publish-fan-magazines.
The following story came into existence shortly after I sold my first story—and resulted from my having not yet learned to say No!






“Anyone who considers protocol unimportant has never dealt with a cat.”
—L. Long
SUCCESSFUL OPERATION


“How dare you make such a suggestion!”
The State Physician doggedly stuck by his position. “I would not make it, sire, if your life were not at stake. There is no other surgeon in the Fatherland who can transplant a pituitary gland, but Doctor Lans.”
“You will operate!”
The medico shook his head. “You would die, Leader. My skill is not adequate.”
The Leader stormed about the apartment. He seemed about to give way to one of the girlish bursts of anger that even the inner state clique feared so much. Surprisingly he capitulated.
“Bring him here!” he ordered.

Doctor Lans faced the Leader with inherent dignity, a dignity and presence that three years of “protective custody” had been unable to shake. The pallor and gauntness of the concentration camp lay upon him, but his race was used to oppression. “I see,” he said. “Yes, I see . . . I can perform that operation. What are your terms?”
“Terms?” The Leader was aghast. “Terms, you filthy swine? You are being given a chance to redeem in part the sins of your race!”
The surgeon raised his brows. “Do you not think that I know that you would not have sent for me had
there been any other course available to you? Obviously, my services have become valuable.
“You’ll do as you are told! You and your kind are lucky to be alive.”
“Nevertheless I shall not operate without my fee.” “I said you are lucky to be alive—” The tone was an open threat.
Lans spread his hands, did not answer.
“Well—I am informed that you have a family...”
The surgeon moistened his lips. His Emma—they would hurt his Emma. . . and his little Rose. But he must be brave, as Emma would have him be. He was playing for high stakes—for all of them. “They cannot be worse off dead,” he answered firmly, “than they are now.

It was many hours before the Leader was convinced that Lans could not be budged. He should have known—the surgeon had learned fortitude at his mother’s breast.
“What is your fee?”
“A passport for myself and my family.”
“Good riddance!”
“My personal fortune restored to me—”
“Very well.”
“—to be paid in gold before I operate!”
The Leader started to object automatically, then checked himself. Let the presumptuous fool think so! It could be corrected after the operation.
“And the operation to take place in a hospital on foreign soil.”
“Preposterous!”
“I must insist.”
“You do not trust me?”
Lans stared straight back into his eyes without replying. The Leader struck him, hard, across the mouth. The surgeon made no effort to avoid the blow, but took it, with no change of expression....
“You are willing to go through with it, Samuel?” The younger man looked at Doctor~Lans without fear as he answered,
“Certainly, Doctor.”
“I can not guarantee that you will recover. The Leader’s pituitary gland is diseased; your younger body may or may not be able to stand up under it— that is the chance you take.”
“I know it—but I am out of the concentration camp!”