Life is pretty strange when a god who is good and benevolent must prove that he has FEET OF CLAY.
any further infection, but the Earthman was afraid the damage had already been done. The fever lay heavily on the native, and he tossed and turned in his coma. The drugs in the bag were all intended for use by Terrans only, and an attempt to aid the slight alien might only result in death. Whereas if he were left alone to ride out the fever, he just might come through all right.
Kylano let out a muted sob, and struck out wildly, nearly hitting Dillon in the face. He cursed, and turned to his bag, selecting the most catholic antibiotic it contained. He looked up at the watching crowd, but they just stared back impassively. He cursed again, and swabbed a spot on the native's arm, and thrust home the needle.
He threw the empty hypo back in the bag, and shut it savagely. Then he stood up, and looked around for Bila.
"A drink of water, please," he said, catching the other's eye.
"Certainly, starman," he replied, handing over a gourd.
Dillon drank deeply, then wiped his mouth. He
Could have been a half decent story but the author had no idea how to end it.
A rather talky story that could have been much shorter. Not especially sophisticated science fiction, and I didn't get a rash or hives, so it didn't hurt to read it.
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