Gai-Jin

Babcott did not wait, letting his hands flow, used to operating in far worse circumstances. Crimea with tens of thousands of soldiers dying--cholera, dysentery, smallpox mostly--and then all the wounded, the howls in the night and in the day, and then in the night the Lady of the Lamp who brought order out of chaos in military hospitals. Nurse Nightingale who ordered, cajoled, threatened, demanded, begged but somehow instituted her new ideas and cleansed that which was filthy, cast out hopelessness and useless death, yet still had time to visit the sick and the needy all hours of the night, her oil or candle lamp held high, lighting her passage from bed to bed.

"Don't know how she did it," he muttered.

"Sir?"

Momentarily he looked up and saw Tyrer, white-faced, staring at him. He had quite forgotten him. "I was just thinking about the Lady of the Lamp," he said, allowing his mouth to talk, to calm himself-- without letting this disturb his concentration on the sliced muscles and damaged veins. "Florence Nightingale. She went out to the Crimea with just thirty-eight nurses and in four months cut the death rate from forty in every hundred to about two--in every hundred."

Tyrer knew the statistic as every Englishman knew proudly that she had really founded the modern profession of nursing. "What was she like--personally?"

"Terrible, if you didn't keep everything clean and as she wanted it. Otherwise she was Godlike --in its most Christian way. She was born in Florence, in Italy, hence her name--though she was English through and through."

"Yes." Tyrer felt the doctor's warmth.

"Wonderful. So wonderful. Did you know her well?"

Babcott's eyes did not waver from the wound, or from his wise fingers as they probed and found, as he had feared, the severed part of the intestine. He swore without noticing it. Delicately he began seeking the other end. The stench increased.

"You were talking about Dutch. You know why some of the Japa

With a violent effort, Tyrer tore his gaze away from the fingers and tried to close his nostrils.

He felt his stomach twist. "No sir."

Struan stirred. At once Babcott said, "Give him more of the ether... that's right, don't press too firmly... good. Well done.

How do you feel?"

"Dreadful."

"Never mind." The fingers began again, almost outside the doctor's will, then stopped.

Gently they exposed the other part of the severed intestine. "Wash your hands then give me the needle that's already threaded--there, on the table."

Tyrer obeyed.

"Good. Thanks." Babcott began the repair. Very accurately. "His liver's not hurt, bruised a little but not cut. His kidney's all right too. Ichiban--that's Japanese for "very good." I have a few Japa

In return for my work I make them give me words and phrases. I'll help you learn if you like."

"I'd... that would be wonderful--ichiban.

Sorry I'm so useless."

"You're not. I hate doing this alone. I, well I get frightened. Fu

For a moment his fingers filled the room.

Tyrer looked at Struan's face, no color now where an hour ago it was ruddy, and strong where now it was stretched and ominous, eyelids flickering from time to time. Strange, he thought, strange how unbelievably naked Struan seems now. Two days ago I'd never even heard his name, now we're bonded like brothers, now life is different, will be different for both of us, like it or not. And I know he's brave and I'm not.

"Ah, you asked about Dutch," Babcott said, scarcely listening to himself, all his attention on the repairs. "Since about 1640 the only contact Japa

"No sir."

"So the Dutch were tolerated because they'd never brought missionaries here, just wanted to trade."

For a moment he stopped talking but his fingers continued the fine neat stitches. Then he rambled on again.

"So a few Hollanders, men never women, were allowed to stay, but only with the most severe restrictions and confined on a man-made island of three acres in Nagasaki harbor called Deshima. The Dutch obeyed any law the Japa

"Yes sir. I was in Peking for three months."

"Oh yes, sorry I forgot. Never mind.

According to Dutch journals of the 1600's the first of the Toranaga Shoguns, their equivalent of emperors, decided foreign influence was against Japan's interests, so he closed the country and decreed that Japa

His fingers stopped for an instant as the delicate thread parted and he cursed. "Give me the other needle. Can't get decent gut though this silk's fine. Try to thread one of the others but wash your hands first and wash it when you're done. Thanks."

Tyrer was glad to have something to do and turned away but his fingers were helpless. His nausea was growing again, his head throbbing. "You were saying, about the Dutch?"

"Ah yes. So, warily, Dutch and Japa

Ten odd years ago the Bakufu started a Dutch language school..." Both men heard the ru

Hasty knock. The sweating Grenadier Sergeant stood there, trained never to enter while an operation was in progress. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but there's four of the rotten little buggers coming down the road. Looks like a deputation. They's all samurai."

The doctor did not stop sewing. "Is Lim with them?"

"Yessir."

"Escort them into the reception room and tell Lim to look after them. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Yessir." The Sergeant took one last glazed look at the table, then fled.

The doctor completed another stitch, knotted it, cut the thread, swabbed the oozing wound, and began anew. "Lim's one of our Chinese assistants. Our Chinese do most of our leg work, not that they're Japanese speakers or, or very trustworthy."

"We... it was the same... we found it was the same in Peking, sir. Dreadful liars."

"The Japa

Tyrer gaped at him. "None?"

"None. The British padre speaks a little but we can't use him, Japa

In the Settlement we speak a bastard sort of lingua franca called "pidgin," like in Hong Kong and Singapore and the other China Treaty ports and use compradores, business intercessors."

"It was the same in Peking."

Babcott heard the irritation but more the underlying danger. He glanced up, instantly saw into Tyrer that he was near to breaking, ready to vomit again any second. "You're doing fine," he said encouragingly, then straightened to ease his back, sweat ru