"All set?" asked David.
He plunged the needle home.
* * * * *
David ran up the steps of the Institute, two at a time, and hurried
toward his office through the echoing corridors, where the usual
watchguard sauntered on patrol.
"Morning, Jones."
"Good morning, Doctor. Pretty early, aren't you?"
"Wednesday's my busy day." He settled at his desk, miserably conscious
of the open door and curious eyes behind him, opened his briefcase, then
glanced at his wristwatch. More than an hour before his interview with
Leader Marley.
Spreading some data sheets before him, he looked at them blankly as he
tried to order his thoughts. His eyes were ringed with dark depressions,
for he had had no sleep. There had been so many things to plan for, so
many arrangements to make.
It was possible, of course, that this morning's talk would turn out to
be mere routine. There might remain several weeks of freedom--but there
might be only a few hours. He shrank from the complexity of the problem
before him; he was a Research man, devoted to his test tubes and his
culture growths, and would have been happy never to face any problem
beyond them.
He had a moment's revulsion at the unfairness of the fact that a simple
experiment in the lab, an addition to man's knowledge of the Universe,
should have plunged him against his will into a situation far beyond his
ability to handle. There had been, as Karl pointed out, the alternative
of turning the SDE over to the Leader. That would have absolved him of
all responsibility. But that was the trouble, he thought. Responsibility
could not be confined to squiggles in his notebook, when those squiggles
might affect the whole of society.
"Dr. Wong!"
He jumped and turned around hastily.
"Leah! What in the world?"
She stood in the doorway, glaring at him, breathing heavily as though
she were trying to hold back sobs. Slowly she tottered to the desk and
sank down into her chair by the stenograph.
"You doublecrosser!" she whispered.
He looked quickly at the doorway, but the guard had not come back.
Leaning forward, he questioned her fiercely.
"What are you doing here? They told me yesterday that several people had
come down with attacks of Blue Martian. Why aren't you in the hospital
with the others?"
"Because I wasn't sick!"
"But I gave you--"
"Imagine how I felt," she raced on, "watching Dr. Haslam start having a
chill, hearing Dr. Faure complain about his awful headache, and
listening to Dr. Hudson dial Intercom and call for a doctor. And all
that time I was waiting, waiting for something to happen to me. And
nothing did! What have you got against me, Dr. Wong, that you infect all
the others and only pretend to do it to me? I don't want to grow old any
more than they do!"
"But I wasn't pretending. Quiet, now, and let me think."
He waited until the watchguard had passed by the door, then raised his
head.
"Look here, Leah. Evidently the infection didn't take. This is what must
have happened. That treatment I gave you ten years ago must have made
you permanently immune to Blue Martian, and the antibodies it formed in
your cells simply protected you against this new invasion of the virus.
It never occurred to me that the immunity would last so long. But don't
worry, I'll find a way."