After supper, Armitage played chess with Bishop while I followed Max
into the control room.
"Soon?" I said.
"Planetfall in eighteen hours, Doctor." He said it stiffly, busying
himself at the controls. Max is a small dark man with angry eyes and the
saddest mouth I've ever seen. He is also a fine pilot and magnificent
bacteriologist. I wanted to slap him. I hate these professional British
types that think a female biochemist is some sort of freak.
"Honestly," I said. "What do you think?"
"Disease," he said bitterly. "For the first six months they reported on
schedule, remember? A fine clean planet, no dominant life-forms, perfect
for immigration; unique, one world in a billion. Abruptly they stopped
sending. You figure it."