"I will take whatever measures are necessary," said Doctor Nordenfeld.
"To save your conscience, we won't discuss them. They should have been
taken on Altaira."
He reached over and flipped off the phone. Then he looked up and into
the other part of the ship's hospital space. Kathy came out from behind
a screen, where she'd made ready for bed. She was beaming. She had a
large picture book under one arm and a doll under the other.
"It's all right for me to have these with me, isn't it, Doctor
Nordenfeld?" she asked hopefully. "I didn't have any picture books but
one, and it got worn out. And my doll--it was dreadful how shabby she
was!"
The doctor frowned. She smiled at him. He said, "After all, picture
books are made to be looked at and dolls to be played with."
She skipped to the tiny hospital bed on the far side of the presumably
virusproof partition. She climbed into it and zestfully arranged the
doll to share it. She placed the book within easy reach.
She said, "I think my father would say you were very nice, Doctor
Nordenfeld, to look after me so well."
"No-o-o-o," said the doctor in a detached voice. "I'm just doing what
anybody ought to do."
She snuggled down under the covers. He looked at his watch and
shrugged. It was very easy to confuse official night with official day,
in space. Everybody else was asleep. He'd been putting Kathy through
tests which began with measurements of pulse and respiration and
temperature and went on from there. Kathy managed them herself, under
his direction.
He settled down with one of the medical books he'd brought into
the isolation section with him. Its title was _Decontamination of
Infectious Material from Different Planets_. He read it grimly.
* * * * *
The time came when the _Star Queen_ should have come out of overdrive
with the sun Circe blazing fiercely nearby, and a green planet with
ice caps to be approached on interplanetary drive. There should have
been droning, comforting drive noises to assure the passengers--who
naturally could not see beyond the ship's steel walls--that they were
within a mere few million miles of a world where sunshine was normal,
and skies were higher than ship's ceilings, and there were fascinating
things to see and do.
Some of the passengers packed their luggage and put it outside their
cabins to be picked up for landing. But no stewards came for it.
Presently there was an explanation. The ship had run under maximum
speed and the planetfall would be delayed.
The passengers were disappointed but not concerned. The luggage
vanished into cabins again.
The _Star Queen_ floated in space among a thousand thousand million
stars. Her astrogators had computed a course to the nearest star into
which to drive the _Star Queen_, but it would not be used unless there
was mutiny among the crew. It would be better to go in remote orbit
around Circe III and give the news of chlorophage on Altaira, if Doctor
Nordenfeld reported it on the ship.
Time passed. One day. Two. Three. Then Jensen called the hospital
compartment on vision-phone. His expression was dazed. Nordenfeld saw
the interior of the control room behind Jensen. He said, "You're a
passenger, Jensen. How is it you're in the control room?"
Jensen moistened his lips. "The skipper thought I'd better not
associate with the other passengers. I've stayed with the officers the
past few days. We--the ones who know what's in prospect--we're keeping
separate from the others so--nobody will let anything out by accident."
"Very wise. When the skipper comes back on duty, ask him to call me.
I've something interesting to tell him."
"He's--checking something now," said Jensen. His voice was thin and
reedy. "The--air officer reports there are white patches on the plants
in the air room. They're growing. Fast. He told me to tell you.
He's--gone to make sure."
"No need," said Nordenfeld bitterly.
He swung the vision-screen. It faced that part of the hospital space
beyond the plastic sheeting. There were potted flowering plants there.
They had pleased Kathy. They shared her air. And there were white
patches on their leaves.
"I thought," said Nordenfeld with an odd mirthless levity, "that the
skipper'd be interested. It is of no importance whatever now, but
I accomplished something remarkable. Kathy's father didn't manage
an aseptic transfer. She brought the chlorophage with her. But I
confined it. The plants on the far side of that plastic sheet show the
chlorophage patches plainly. I expect Kathy to show signs of anemia
shortly. I'd decided that drastic measures would have to be taken,
and it looked like they might work, because I've confined the virus.
It's there where Kathy is, but it isn't where I am. All the botanical
specimens on my side of the sheet are untouched. The phage hasn't hit
them. It is remarkable. But it doesn't matter a damn if the air room's
infected. And I was so proud!"
Jensen did not respond.
* * * * *
Nordenfeld said ironically, "Look what I accomplished! I protected
the air plants on my side See? They're beautifully green! No sign of
infection! It means that a man can work with chlorophage! A laboratory
ship could land on Kamerun and keep itself the equivalent of an
aseptic-environment room while the damned chlorophage was investigated
and ultimately whipped! And it doesn't matter!"