Joe shrugged. "You need me," he said.
"Need you?" repeated Arden. "Need you to infect us so we can't get the
ship going again."
Joe watched Arden, then he said: "Arden, why not cure me; then I won't
be dangerous and I can help?"
"No." Arden's voice was flat. "I'm the only man on ship who knows how
to give the treatment, and you're not getting any. Your life is forfeit
for what you almost managed to do."
"You won't stop me, now, Arden," Joe said. "You can barely see me now,
and you're trying so hard to keep from vomiting out your guts. You've
got the radio disease; why don't you cure yourself?"
Joe moved back slowly; Arden's gun followed him hesitantly.
"You," Arden said. "You did it. You gave it to me." The gun steadied.
"No," Joe said. "You had it before I ever came aboard ship. But you
didn't know it, did you, Arden? You're a carrier, and you came to the
ship straight from your wife."
Arden shook his head weakly. "I took the usual tests; it showed me free
of it."
"But you know the usual tests, Arden; you know you can't tell for sure
until you get the nausea. And it acts at varying speeds with different
people, doesn't it?"
Arden's fingers whitened on the gun; and Joe leapt aside suddenly. The
shot blasted out. Then the gun dropped from Arden's fingers and he fell
forward on his face, retching.
Joe lifted the fallen metal expert almost tenderly, and carried him
toward the hospital room.
When he brought his burden in, Joe saw Burnet sitting on the edge of
the bed, slipping on his sandals. Doc Guetschow, one of the professor
twins, was remonstrating with him, trying to keep him in bed.
Burnet shook himself free and stood up. Then he saw Joe placing Arden's
body on the bed.
"Well!"
Joe turned and smiled. Then he was serious: "Arden's got the radio
disease."
"Your fault, Joe," Burnet said. "He was right."
"No," Joe said doggedly. "He had it when he came aboard, too. He's got
it bad, too. See what you can do for him, Doc."
Then Joe trotted out of the hospital room, and headed for the kitchen
storerooms. Wick Wilson, who doubled as cook and metallurgist, was
opening cans and draining off the liquid into a tub.
"Help?" asked Joe.
Wick Wilson looked at Joe briefly, said: "I thought you were in the
brig." Then, "Sure, lug the tub down to the power room. We're trying to
get enough water out of the juice to make catalyst."