"James White - SG 09 - Galactic Gourmet" - читать интересную книгу автора (White James)

passenger, Gurronsevas, a Tralthan FGLI joining the hospital staff. All are warm-
blooded oxygen-breathers and this one, myself, would certainly appreciate a change
from ship rations..."
"Wait," said Reception, who plainly was not disposed to waste time discussing
the subject of Earth-human food, the ingestion of which would have been instantly
lethal to an Illensan. The image of the hospital structure returned to the screen,
looking closer and even more impressive, but only for a moment.
"Please follow the red-yellow-red beacons to the vacant Class Three docking
cradle adjoining Lock Twenty-three," it went on briskly. "Monitor Corps officers will
report to Colonel Skempton. Gurronsevas will be met by Lieutenant Timmins on
arrival."
Was this another courtesy, Gurronsevas wondered, from a being who might or
might not consider itself his superior? Somehow he doubted it. The being in
Reception had not been impressed by his name, yet they must have heard of him even
amidst the poisonous yellow fog of chlorine-breathing Illensa. But there had been no
mention of the famous or the renowned or the great Gurronsevas, whose name and
unique ability was admired and debated by the cultured members of every warm-
blooded, oxygen-breathing species in the Federation, and whose unique contribution
to and presence on any one of their home worlds would have been a matter for
planetary pride. There had merely been the brief statement that Gurronsevas would be
met.
A lesser being than himself might have felt uncertain, or even insulted.
The entity Timmins turned out to be an Earth-human DBDG whose dark-green
uniform coveralls, although clean and well-pressed, were so well-worn that the
insignia of rank were all but invisible. Its head fur was the color of dull copper, it
showed its teeth readily in the non-aggressive grimace its species called a smile, and
its manner was brisk and moderately respectful.
 "Welcome on board, sir," it said when the introductions had been performed.
"Technically, Sector General is too small to be a planet and too large to be a star-
going vessel, but a ship is how the purists like to refer to it when we are not calling it
something much more derogatory. As soon as convenient I had planned to show you
to your quarters and explain the equipment and functioning. As Head of Maintenance
your environmental control systems are a part of my responsibility, but Major O'Mara
would like to see you in his office sooner than that. Allowing for traffic density in the
intervening corridors, and a delay while changing to lightweight protective envelopes
for the short-cut through the level of the chlorine-breathing PVSJs, it should take
about twenty minutes. On the way you can have the usual but usually inadequate
briefing given to a new arrival.
"With your permission, sir," he added, "I'll lead the way and talk as we walk."
As Gurronsevas followed Timmins out of the lock antechamber and along the
boarding tube and into the hospital proper, the Lieutenant apologized in advance in
case he was imparting information already known to him, and explained that Sector
General was the largest, most technologically advanced and professionally respected
multi-environment hospital ever to come into being. Many planetary cultures had
contributed to its building, fabricating sections and transporting them over a period of
nearly two decades to the assembly area in Galactic Sector Twelve. It was supplied
and maintained by the Monitor Corps, the Federation's executive and law-
enforcement arm, but it was not and never would be a military establishment. In its
three hundred and eighty-four levels could be reproduced the environments of all of
the life-forms known to the Galactic Federation, a physiological spectrum ranging