"I don't know, of course," Randall answered. "We'll see what Dr. Gerard
has to say."
Within a few moments, the three men joined Lanson and Dr. Gerard
outside Zor Ala's hut.
"What do you think, Doc?" asked Randall.
"Can't tell for sure," Gerard replied. "My medical knowledge is
definitely limited. Furthermore, I have no equipment to make tests, but
my diagnosis is meningococcus--cerebrospinal meningitis."
"Well, will the rest of us get it?" asked Jackson, edging away from
the men who had been in Zor Ala's shelter.
"Could be," said Dr. Gerard seriously. "We'll have to keep him
isolated, but I'm afraid some of us have already been exposed. We may
have real trouble on our hands."
"What's the remedy?" inquired McClellan.
"Well, sulfonilamide, if we had it," replied Dr. Gerard. "But we don't
have any medicine at all."
"What--what will we do?" asked Jackson apprehensively.
The doctor shrugged. "If I had access to a chemical laboratory," he
said, "I could synthesize some sulfa, but I doubt if the Kralons would
let me use theirs."
"They might, at that," said Randall, watching Jackson out of the corner
of his eye, "If they knew an epidemic might wipe out their entire
colony of humans after all the work they've done in getting them from
the future."
"Maybe they would," said Jackson eagerly. "Should I talk to them about
it?"
"Couldn't hurt anything," replied Randall casually. "And it might help."
Together the group made its way to the locked gate in the stockade
wall. There they set up a disturbance until a Kralon guard came and
unlocked the gate. At the same time the speaker blared: "One human will
follow."
Jackson stepped out from the group and followed the Kralon down the
path and into the Hive.
"Do you really think the Kralons will let us have access to their
chemical laboratory?" asked McClellan.
Randall shrugged. "They might," he said, "if Jackson is convincing
enough. I know they don't want to lose all their human guinea pigs."
In less than an hour Jackson was back. "The Kralons said that Dr.
Gerard could use the laboratory," he said. "And I'm to help him with
his work."
"Okay," said the doctor briskly. "We'd better hurry."
Together, the two men followed the guide back to the Hive.
A few moments later, Randall, McClellan and Lanson joined Malherne in
Lanson's hut. They seated themselves before the crude desk with its
pile of figured sheets.
"How does it look?" asked Randall.
"Very good," replied the physicist. "Malherne has checked my figures
and they are apparently all right."
"Just how does it all stack up?" asked McClellan.
Lanson ran a hand through his bristling thatch. "Well," he said, "In
the first place, from my computations it seems quite apparent that if
we reverse the current through the mosaic mesh of the screen above the
Time Net, the Teleomagnetic flux should create a stress in the opposite
direction to that induced by the Kralons. Thus, theoretically, the
direction of the Teleomagnetic or gravitic displacement, acting on
anyone in the net, should be forward in Time, rather than backward."
"How about selecting the proper spot in Time?" asked McClellan.
"That is accomplished by the amount of energy, figured in Teleomagnetic
magnetons, and interpolated to dynes required to produce a given Time
displacement or warp," he answered.
"How about conversion to your system of the readings on the Kralon
indicators and instruments?" asked Randall.
Lanson held up a flashlight which one of the humans had had among his
possessions. "By checking the standard output of a dry cell against the
instruments, and computing the indicator readings in our own terms," he
replied.
Randall nodded. "Looks as if you have done quite a thorough job," he
agreed. "Now, if Dr. Gerard can do his stuff we may have a chance."
* * * * *
In the laboratory of the Kralons, Dr. Gerard was having his troubles.
The various containers and their enigmatic labels were of course
entirely foreign to him, and it was necessary for him to start a
basic qualitative analysis, without knowing one reagent from another.
However, it wasn't too difficult for him to qualitatively identify
sulfuric acid and a few other basic chemicals, and from then on his
task was easier.
Jackson was a surprisingly good assistant, although he bothered Dr.
Gerard frequently with questions about the degree of contagion of
meningitis.
The doctor did nothing to ameliorate his fear. Rather he spurred
Jackson to increased effort by conjecturing upon the havoc the disease
could wreak if it reached epidemic proportions.
Twice he called upon the Kralons for more reagents and chemicals. The
third time he was questioned at length concerning the quantity he was
using.
His explanation was the admission of difficulty in reconciling his
own and the Kralon terminology for materials. Thus it was easy to
understand, he explained carefully, why he had inadvertently wasted
several batches.
But all the time the quantity of white powder in a large cask in one
corner of the room was growing steadily. When the cask was finally
full, Dr. Gerard called a halt to their labor of synthesis.
"Seems as though that should be enough for an army," remarked Jackson,
examining the huge container full of the chemical powder.
"May have to use it on about that many," replied Dr. Gerard brusquely.
While Jackson was busy filtering and running the last batch, Dr. Gerard
had fabricated a Venturi tube and a spray nozzle from odds and ends
of laboratory equipment. Working rapidly, he filled a large metal
container with powder from the cask, then added enough liquid to fill
the cask and to dissolve its contents.
Then, with Jackson's help, he moved the cask over beside the air return
of the air conditioning and recirculating system for the Hive. He
pulled a small table over beside the cask, clamped the Venturi tube
and spray nozzle in place, with the nozzle pointing into the return
duct. Then he connected a hose from the laboratory water system to the
Venturi, and a return hose back to the drain.
The spray worked beautifully, vaporizing the solution and spraying it
as a fine mist into the air return duct.
"What's that for?" asked Jackson suspiciously.
"Just arranging decontamination for the Hive so that it'll be safe for
us to come here."
Jackson looked at Gerard sharply, but didn't say anything.
It was evening again by this time, and Gerard asked Jackson to see
whether the Kralons had some kind of portable lighting equipment, so
that he could see to minister to Zor Ala and any others who might need
attention.
While Jackson was gone, Dr. Gerard pulled a large carton over in
front of his spray system, hiding it quite effectively from casual
inspection. He closed the entrance panel, carefully inserting a wedge
of metal in the guide which jammed it as it closed.
Then he started down the hall with a container of powder under his
arm. Jackson met him in the corridor. The salesman was carrying
two transparent globular jars slung from handles. The globes were
apparently filled with highly phosphorescent matter, for they gave
almost as much light as a lantern.
"How will these do?" Jackson asked.
"Fine," said Dr. Gerard heartily. "Now let's get going."
Back in the stockade a few minutes later he left Jackson with a hurried
excuse, conferred briefly with Randall, then went to Lanson's shelter.
By this time things were beginning to add up in Jackson's rather
sluggish mental processes, and they didn't come out even. Thoroughly
he turned the whole sequence of events over in his mind, reached a
decision, then decided to wait until the rest of the human colony had
retired for the night, before making a move.
* * * * *
A little later Randall, McClellan, Gordo Lanson, Dr. Gerard and
Malherne were gathered in Zor Ala's hut for a final council meeting to
outline timing and strategy for their next moves.
"Remarkable recovery you made, sir," McClellan told Zor Ala with a grin.
The future-man smiled. "Yes," he said. "I believe that Dr. Gerard's
medication is quite effective. It's made me feel much better already,
even though it's the Kralons rather than I who are taking it!"
Then he turned to the little investigation agent. "Neat idea of yours,
Randall, of synthesizing D.D.T. to fight the Kralons."
"D.D.T.?" asked Malherne, who had not been a member of this particular
phase of the intrigue. "What's that?"
"Dichloro-diphenyl-trichlorethane, to use the generic term for the
chemical," replied Dr. Gerard. "It's a chemical insecticide that's
quite specific for most insects."
"Oh," said the engineer in comprehension. "That's what you were
synthesizing instead of sulfonilamide!"
"Right," said the little doctor. "But it _is_ a remedy for our
troubles, we hope," he added in defense of the deceit they had
practiced.
The group chuckled at Gerard's righteousness, even in dealing with
inhuman monsters.
"How long do you think it will take for the chemical to have a material
effect on the Kralons?" inquired Lanson.
"Shouldn't be too long," interposed Dr. Gerard. "Unlike the insects of
our own times, these creatures have had no opportunity to build up an
immunity, nor time to mutate as a race to types resistant to chemical
insecticides. Therefore its effect should be considerably more rapid
than upon even the small insects of the future."
Zor Ala nodded in satisfaction. "The floor is yours, Randall," he said.
Randall stepped to the center of the group. "We are apparently all
in agreement that the zero hour is to be set at 4:00 AM, or 1600
in universal time. That should give sufficient time for the DDT to
accomplish its work, and we do not dare delay beyond then for fear
that Dr. Gerard's contrivance will be discovered in the morning, thus
alerting the Kralons."
He paused a moment, his pale gray eyes flicking from one member of the
group to another. "It might be wise to keep an eye on Jackson in the
meantime," he said. "He undoubtedly has had time to think things over,
and to have concluded that Dr. Gerard's fake synthesis and subsequent
actions weren't quite plausible under the circumstances."
"How did you happen to suspect him in the first place?" asked McClellan.
Randall smiled faintly. "It was quite obvious that the salesman lacked
courage," he replied. "We all were fully aware of that. Also, both by
profession and inclination, Jackson was an opportunist.
"In my dealings with the renegades of society, I have always found that
to be a deadly combination. A cowardly opportunist can almost always
be expected to turn traitor to a cause which offers him any particular
inconvenience. Also," he added, "the Kralons asked me several questions
about Jackson which set me thinking."
Lanson nodded. "He very clearly gave his position away when he so
willingly volunteered to contact the Kralons with our request," he
said. "We certainly have you to thank for preventing us from exposing
our plans before him. You were particularly adroit in utilizing his
treacherous contact with the Kralons to our advantage."
As the other members nodded agreement, Randall shifted uneasily. "I
didn't do much," he said briefly. "Dr. Gerard did all the work. But
the hardest part is still ahead of us. The DDT, at best, is only going
to make the Kralons lethargic and slow in the time we have allowed.
Even if they don't suspect something and vacate the Hive before the
chemical-laden air affects them adversely. In any event we will have
many problems to solve.
"Let us outline briefly the tasks assigned to each of us, and formulate
a time schedule of action, starting with 4:00 AM as the zero hour."
He turned to Zor Ala. "You are to make such contacts with the other
humans of the colony as you feel advisable, and you will organize
several parties from those you feel you can trust. Have them gather in
small groups on either side of the main gate, staying in the shadows of
the stockade wall. Be sure they are ready at one minute to four. Have
the members armed with any weapons you can devise."
Then he continued, outlining carefully the assigned plan of action and
time schedule for each individual.