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Show 161 The commander took his hand off my shoulder and his eyes narrowed: he hated goldbrickers. "I'm all swollen under my ears," I said in justification. "Where?" "Right here. Both sides." He stepped back. "What the hell is it?" "I don't know. Just a swelling." "Is it the mumps?" "It can't be the mumps; they swell out your cheeks." "Oh yeah?" He backed away more, dusting his hand off. "Maybe you had better go over to sickbay. Hey! Stay away from me!" All I'd done was stand up. I wanted just one more dollop of fatherly concern, a warm hand on my shoulder. "Just keep back, Brocken. Don't panic, for god's sake, and come toward me. Back! Back!" he said, backing up and wiping his hand on his pants "And get over to sickbay! That's an order! About face! I'm ordering you, Brocken. Get the hell out of here!" When I left he was hurrying toward the head to wash his hands. A nurse took my temperature and counted my pulse. "Yeah, looks like mumps," she said indifferently. "It can't be. Mumps swell up your cheeks and I'm too old." "We'll see. Doctor, you wanta look at this man?" "Of course, of course, bring him over. What seems to be the trouble?" "Looks like the mumps." The doctor, a young man, held up his hand. "Wait! Stop! Stay right there. I don't need to examine you. Nurse, you examine him. I'll direct you from here." I was hustled to the Station hospital, where an older doctor made the |
