"Yes, sir."

"And you really feel it's just normal procedure that your application is
being challenged?"

"No, sir."

"How _do_ you feel about it, Dal? Angry, maybe?"

Dal squirmed. "Yes, sir. You might say that."

"Perhaps even bitter," the Black Doctor said.

"I did as good work as anyone else in my class," Dal said hotly. "I did
my part as well as anyone could, I didn't let up once all the way
through. Bitter! Wouldn't you feel bitter?"

The Black Doctor nodded slowly. "Yes, I imagine I would," he said,
sinking down into the chair behind the desk with a sigh. "As a matter of
fact, I do feel a little bitter about it, even though I was afraid that
it might come to this in the end. I can't blame you for your feelings."
He took a deep breath. "I wish I could promise you that everything would
be all right tomorrow, but I'm afraid I can't. The council has a right
to review your qualifications, and it holds the power to assign you to a
patrol ship on the spot, if it sees fit. Conceivably, a Black Doctor
might force the council's approval, if he were the only representative
of the Black service there. But I will not be the only Black Doctor
sitting on the council tomorrow."

"I know that," Dal said.