studies that had been done there.

And out of this data, a picture of Morua VIII and its inhabitants began
to emerge.

The Moruans were moderately intelligent creatures, warm-blooded air
breathers with an oxygen-based metabolism. Their planet was cold, with
17 per cent oxygen and much water vapor in its atmosphere. With its vast
snow-fields and great mountain ranges, the planet was a popular resort
area for oxygen-breathing creatures; most of the natives were engaged in
some work related to winter sports. They were well fitted anatomically
for their climate, with thick black fur, broad flat hind feet and a
four-inch layer of fat between their skin and their vital organs.

Swiftly Dal reviewed the emergency file, checking for common drugs and
chemicals that were poisonous to Moruans, accidents that were common to
the race, and special problems that had been met by previous patrol
ships. The deeper he dug into the mass of data, the more worried he
became. Where should he begin? Searching in the dark, there was no way
to guess what information would be necessary and what part totally
useless.

He buzzed Tiger. "Any word on the nature of the trouble?" he asked.

"Just got through to them," Tiger said. "Not too much to go on, but
they're really in an uproar. Sounds like they've started some kind of
organ-transplant surgery and their native surgeon got cold feet halfway
through and wants us to bail him out." Tiger paused. "I think this is
going to be your show, Dal. Better check up on Moruan anatomy."