with us. We have to be extremely careful! Will you come in, please?"

"I'm on my way," said Calhoun.

"The planetary health authorities," said the voice, more anxiously
still, "are very anxious to be cooperative. We need Med Service help!
We lose a lot of sleep over the blueskin! Could you tell us the name
of the last Med Ship to land here, and its inspector, and when that
inspection was made? We want to look up the record of the event to be
able to assist you in every possible way."

"He's lying," Calhoun told Murgatroyd, "but he's more scared than
hostile."

He picked up the order folio on Weald Three. He gave the information
about the last Med Ship visit.

"What?" he asked, "is a blueskin?"

He'd read the folio on Weald, of course, but as the ship swam onward
through emptiness he went through it again. The last medical
inspection had been only perfunctory. Twelve years earlier--instead of
three--a Med Ship had landed on Weald. There had been official
conferences with health officials. There was a report on the birth
rate, the death rate, the anomaly rate, and a breakdown of all
reported communicable diseases. But that was all. There were no
special comments and no overall picture.

Presently Calhoun found the word in a Sector dictionary, where words
of only local usage were to be found: