He drove to the Solarian Medical Association, where he found Dr. Lange in charge. In spite of the hour of the morning, he went in and spoke to the doctor.
Lange looked up surprised. "What are you doing here at this hour?" he asked with a smile.
"I've got a few skinned knuckles that hurt," said Cal, showing the bruises.
"Who did you hit?" asked Lange. "Fisticuffs isn't exactly your style, Cal."
"I know. But I was angry."
Lange inspected Cal's frame. "Wouldn't like to be the other guy," he laughed. "But look, Cal. Tinker will be more than pleased."
"That I was fighting? Why?"
"You're a sort of placid fellow, normally. If you could only stir up a few pounds of blood-pressure more frequently, you'd be quite a fellow."
"So I'm passive. I like peace and quiet. You don't see me running wild, do you?"