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Pulp Fiction, 1953 · page 11 of 68

Astounding British Edition, Vol. 9, No. 10 — page 11: what you’re looking at

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Astounding British Edition, Vol. 9, No. 10 — page 11: Pulp Fiction, 1953

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pars we Soe oe ae ee <-jon ae hi 5 Me « — — ze phi? ox ee Saree ESS WIS ay SHOW heatedly. He turned to the sheriff. “Do you have a warrant, officer?” “Then it would be best to get one, I think, before you act.” “Harmon, I told you to stay out of this. You’re interfering with the process of justice.” “On the contrary, I am making certain that the process of justice is carried out. The law prescribes a warrant before an arrest. Kachoo! As the situation stands now, you have no evidence that these men have broken any law or committed any crime. If you want them arrested, get a warrant. Isn’t that right, Sheriff?” “"’Fraid you’re about right, Doc,” the sheriff admitted. “But Doc Lapham made me come—” “Then we'll get a warrant!” Lapham snapped. “That won’t be any problem. I know the magistrate personally. We'll get a warrant all right.” “Do that. And when these men have been arrested in the manner prescribed by law, I will consider it a privilege to sign bail bonds for them!” The young doctor spoke with growing heat. “You'll what? You'll bail these frauds out of jail?” Lapham was goggle-eyed at the thought. “You heard me. Now get going. I have something I wish to discuss with Dr. Yanvro.” “But— “Get af ” Harmon’s voice had power in it. The outraged physician and the con- fused sheriff left the tent. The eyes Yanvro turned toward Har- mon held appreciative awe. “Well done; Dr. Harmon.” “Thank you. kachoo!” “Your hay fever, sir!” “Forget my hay fever.” “But give me just a moment, sir. Just one question.” “All right,” Harmon said. “But make it fast. I’ve got more important things to talk about than my hay fever or me.” A shy, approving smile appeared on Yanvro’s face. “The fact that you think more about your patients than you do about yourself is making you a great As I was saying— SES Bates ens Se Ne ee ta ie es EN ee sia eee bs Se NES eee ee 5 aN See ieee ik, 3 = SS a ee oS arin 8 Spee <meta <> doctor, sir. Your patients know you put their interests first, they respond by get- ting well for you— “Sometimes they don’t get well for me and I have to sign a death certificate. I don’t like that. Get to your point.” “But you must also consider yourself, ir.” If this was a reproof, it was very gentle. “Now as to those pieces of metal which I gave you last night— “Got ’em in my pocket. They didn’t work for me.” Harmon pulled them out. “Did you put both of them in the same pocket?” Yanvro said. “What difference does that make? Actually, I forgot them completely.” “It makes a very great difference, sir. If both are carried together in the same pocket, they reinforce the disease currents instead of cancelling them. Will you put them in different pockets, sir, and see what happens to your hay fever?” Yanvro’s eyes pleaded with Harmon to obey. To oblige the man, and to get on to more important matters, Harmon slid the little pieces of metal into different pockets. “Now about this patient of mine, I don’t know whether my original diagnosis was wrong, or her cure is an example of spontaneous remission—” “She is getting better?” Yanvro asked. “Better? She’s getting well!” “Then what are you complaining about sir?” “T’m complaining because I am not certain your magnetized pieces of metal account for her improvement. If they do account for it, I am complaining because I don’t know how they work. Man, this is the greatest thing in the history of medi- — cine, if you can make it work. I want to know—Yes?” Harmon’s nurse, white-faced and out of breath, came through the entrance of the tent. “Dr. Harmon, Mrs. Culver just called. Donna’s temperature is 105.” Automatic reaction patterns instilled so deeply in him that he had forgotten their existence, patterns which said the sick patient came first and everything else came second, instantly made Harmon’s decision for him. Heading for the tent opening, he paused just long enough to comiehooks.com