quarters, and the idea made him a little nervous. Of all the medical
services on Hospital Earth, none had the power of the Black Service of
Pathology. Traditionally in Earth medicine, the pathologists had always
occupied a position of power and discipline. The autopsy rooms had
always been the "Temples of Truth" where the final, inarguable answers
in medicine were ultimately found, and for centuries pathologists had
been the judges and inspectors of the profession of medicine.

And when Earth had become Hospital Earth, with status as a probationary
member of the Galactic Confederation of Worlds, it was natural that the
Black Service of Pathology had become the governors and policy-makers,
regimenting every aspect of the medical services provided by Earth
physicians.

Dal knew that the medical training council, which would be reviewing his
application in just a few hours, was made up of physicians from all the
services--the Green Service of Medicine, the Blue Service of Diagnosis,
the Red Service of Surgery, as well as the Auxiliary Services--but the
Black Doctors who sat on the council would have the final say, the final
veto power.

He wondered now why Black Doctor Arnquist wanted to see him. At first he
had thought there might be special news for him, word perhaps that his
assignment had come through after all, that the interview tomorrow would
not be held. But on reflection, he realized that didn't make sense. If
that were the case, Doctor Arnquist would have said so, and directed him
to report to a ship. More likely, he thought, the Black Doctor wanted
to see him only to soften the blow, to help him face the decision that
seemed inevitable.

He left the pneumatic tube and climbed on the jitney that wound its way
through the corridors of the pathology sector and into the quiet,
austere quarters of the resident pathologists. He found the proper
concourse, and moments later he was pressing his thumb against the
identification plate outside the Black Doctor's personal quarters.

* * * * *

Black Doctor Thorvold Arnquist looked older now than when Dal had last
seen him. His silvery gray hair was thinning, and there were tired lines
around his eyes and mouth that Dal did not remember from before. The old
man's body seemed more wispy and frail than ever, and the black cloak
across his shoulders rustled as he led Dal back into a book-lined study.

The Black Doctor had not yet gone to b