The Colors of Space, page 99 by Marion Zimmer Bradley
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ear. He looked down at his left arm. It was strapped to a splint, and fluid was dripping slowly into the vein there.
Vorongil nodded. "I expect you feel pretty sick. You got a good dose of radiation yourself, but we've given you a couple of transfusions--one of the Mentorians matched your blood type, fortunately. It was a close call."
The medic was looking down in ill-disguised curiosity. "Fantastic," he said. "I don't suppose you'd tell me who changed your looks. I admit I wouldn't believe it until I had a look at your foot bones under the fluoroscope."
Vorongil said quietly, "Bartol--I don't suppose that's your real name--why did you do it?"
"I couldn't see you all die, sir," Bart said, not expecting them to believe him. "No more than that."
The medic said roughly in Lhari, "It's a trick, sir, no more. A trick to make us trust him!"
"Why would he risk his own life then?" Vorongil asked. "No, it's more than that." He hesitated. "We checked the bunkers--in radiation suits--before we took off. We found a man in one of them."
"Was he dead?" Bart whispered.
"No," Vorongil said quietly.
"Thank God!" It was a heartfelt explosion. Then, apprehensively, "Or did you kill him?"
"What do you think we are?" Vorongil said incredulously. "Indeed no. His own men have probably found him by now. I don't imagine he got half as much radiation as you did."
Bart surveyed the needle in his arm. "Why are you taking all this trouble if I'm going to be put out of the way?"
"You must have some funny ideas about us," Vorongil said shaking his head. "That would be a fine way to reward you for saving all of our lives. No, you're not going to be killed."
"If I had my way--" the old medic began, and suddenly Vorongil flew into a rage. "Get out!"
The medic went stiffly through the door, and Vorongil stood gazing down at Bart, shaking his yellowed crest. "I don't know what to say to you. It was a brave thing you did, but perhaps no braver than you'