initial commit of ebook 19471HEADmain

10 files changed, 15426 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/19471-8.txt b/19471-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..13b7f2b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4881 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester del Rey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Badge of Infamy
+
+Author: Lester del Rey
+
+Release Date: October 5, 2006 [EBook #19471]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BADGE OF INFAMY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner, Greg Weeks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                     Transcriber's Note:
+
+This etext was produced from an Ace Books paperback, 1973. Extensive
+research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this
+publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+LESTER DEL REY
+
+EARTHMEN BECOMING MARTIANS]
+
+
+     The computer seemed to work as it should. The speed was
+     within acceptable limits. He gave up trying to see the
+     ground and was forced to trust the machinery designed
+     for amateur pilots. The flare bloomed, and he yanked
+     down on the little lever.
+
+     It could have been worse. They hit the ground, bounced
+     twice, and turned over. The ship was a mess when
+     Feldman freed himself from the elastic straps of the
+     seat. Chris had shrieked as they hit, but she was
+     unbuckling herself now.
+
+     He threw her her spacesuit and one of the emergency
+     bottles of oxygen from the rack. "Hurry up with that.
+     We've sprung a leak and the pressure's dropping."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Turn this book over for a second complete novel.
+
+[Transcriber's Note:
+The second novel is not present in this etext.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+By LESTER DEL REY
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+ace books
+A Division of Charter Communications Inc.
+1120 Avenue of the Americas
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+
+
+
+BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+Copyright © 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
+Copyright © 1957 by Renown Publications, Inc.
+
+A shorter and earlier version of this story appeared in _Satellite
+Science Fiction_ for June, 1957.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_First Ace printing: January, 1973_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SKY IS FALLING
+Copyright © 1954, 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Printed in U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Pariah
+
+
+The air of the city's cheapest flophouse was thick with the smells of
+harsh antiseptic and unwashed bodies. The early Christmas snowstorm had
+driven in every bum who could steal or beg the price of admission, and
+the long rows of cots were filled with fully clothed figures. Those who
+could afford the extra dime were huddled under thin, grimy blankets.
+
+The pariah who had been Dr. Daniel Feldman enjoyed no such luxury. He
+tossed fitfully on a bare cot, bringing his face into the dim light. It
+had been a handsome face, but now the black stubble of beard lay over
+gaunt features and sunken cheeks. He looked ten years older than his
+scant thirty-two, and there were the beginnings of a snarl at the
+corners of his mouth. Clothes that had once been expensive were wrinkled
+and covered with grime that no amount of cleaning could remove. His
+tall, thin body was awkwardly curled up in a vain effort to conserve
+heat and one of his hands instinctively clutched at his tiny bag of
+possessions.
+
+He stirred again, and suddenly jerked upright with a protest already
+forming on his lips. The ugly surroundings registered on his eyes, and
+he stared suspiciously at the other cots. But there was no sign that
+anyone had been trying to rob him of his bindle or the precious bag of
+cheap tobacco.
+
+He started to relax back onto the couch when a sound caught his
+attention, even over the snoring of the others. It was a low wail, the
+sound of a man who can no longer control himself.
+
+Feldman swung to the cot on his left as the moan hacked off. The man
+there was well fed and clean-shaven, but his face was gray with
+sickness. He was writhing and clutching his stomach, arching his back
+against the misery inside him.
+
+"Space-stomach?" Feldman diagnosed.
+
+He had no need of the weak answering nod. He'd treated such cases
+several times in the past. The disease was usually caused by the absence
+of gravity out in space, but it could be brought on later from abuse of
+the weakened internal organs, such as the intake of too much bad liquor.
+The man must have been frequenting the wrong space-front bars.
+
+Now he was obviously dying. Violent peristaltic contractions seemed to
+be tearing the intestines out of him, and the paroxysms were coming
+faster. His eyes darted to Feldman's tobacco sack and there was animal
+appeal in them.
+
+Feldman hesitated, then reluctantly rolled a smoke. He held the
+cigarette while the spaceman took a long, gasping drag on it. He smoked
+the remainder himself, letting the harsh tobacco burn against his lungs
+and sicken his empty stomach. Then he shrugged and threaded his way
+through the narrow aisles toward the attendant.
+
+"Better get a doctor," he said bitterly, when the young punk looked up
+at him. "You've got a man dying of space-stomach on 214."
+
+The sneer on the kid's face deepened. "Yeah? We don't pay for doctors
+every time some wino wants to throw up. Forget it and get back where you
+belong, bo."
+
+"You'll have a corpse on your hands in an hour," Feldman insisted. "I
+know space-stomach, damn it."
+
+The kid turned back to his lottery sheet. "Go treat yourself if you
+wanta play doctor. Go on, scram--before I toss you out in the snow!"
+
+One of Feldman's white-knuckled hands reached for the attendant. Then he
+caught himself. He started to turn back, hesitated, and finally faced
+the kid again. "I'm not fooling. And I _was_ a doctor," he stated. "My
+name is Daniel Feldman."
+
+The attendant nodded absently, until the words finally penetrated. He
+looked up, studied Feldman with surprised curiosity and growing
+contempt, and reached for the phone. "Gimme Medical Directory," he
+muttered.
+
+Feldman felt the kid's eyes on his back as he stumbled through the
+aisles to his cot again. He slumped down, rolling another cigarette in
+hands that shook. The sick man was approaching delirium now, and the
+moans were mixed with weak whining sounds of fear. Other men had wakened
+and were watching, but nobody made a move to help.
+
+The retching and writhing of the sick man had begun to weaken, but it
+was still not too late to save him. Hot water and skillful massage could
+interrupt the paroxysms. In fifteen minutes, Feldman could have stopped
+the attack completely.
+
+He found his feet on the floor and his hands already reaching out.
+Savagely he pulled himself back. Sure, he could save the man--and wind
+up in the gas chamber! There'd be no mercy for his second offense
+against Lobby laws. If the spaceman lived, Feldman might get off with a
+flogging--that was standard punishment for a pariah who stepped out of
+line. But with his luck, there would be a heart arrest and another juicy
+story for the papers.
+
+Idealism! The Medical Lobby made a lot out of the word. But it wasn't
+for him. A pariah had no business thinking of others.
+
+As Feldman sat there staring, the spaceman grew quieter. Sometimes, even
+at this stage, massage could help. It was harder without liberal
+supplies of hot water, but the massage was the really important
+treatment. It was the trembling of Feldman's hands that stopped him. He
+no longer had the strength or the certainty to make the massage
+effective.
+
+He was glaring at his hands in self-disgust when the legal doctor
+arrived. The man was old and tired. Probably he had been another
+idealist who had wound up defeated, content to leave things up to the
+established procedures of the Medical Lobby. He looked it as he bent
+over the dying man.
+
+The doctor turned back at last to the attendant. "Too late. The best I
+can do is ease his pain. The call should have been made half an hour
+earlier."
+
+He had obviously never handled space-stomach before. He administered a
+hypo that probably held narconal. Feldman watched, his guts tightening
+sympathetically for the shock that would be to the sick man. But at
+least it would shorten his sufferings. The final seizure lasted only a
+minute or so.
+
+"Hopeless," the doctor said. His eyes were clouded for a moment, and
+then he shrugged. "Well, I'll make out a death certificate. Anyone here
+know his name?"
+
+His eyes swung about the cots until they came to rest on Feldman. He
+frowned, and a twisted smile curved his lips.
+
+"Feldman, isn't it? You still look something like your pictures. Do you
+know the deceased?"
+
+Feldman shook his head bitterly. "No. I don't know his name. I don't
+even know why he wasn't cyanotic at the end, _if_ it was space-stomach.
+Do you, doctor?"
+
+The old man threw a startled glance at the corpse. Then he shrugged and
+nodded to the attendant. "Well, go through his things. If he still has a
+space ticket, I can get his name from that."
+
+The kid began pawing through the bag that had fallen from the cot. He
+dragged out a pair of shoes, half a bottle of cheap rum, a wallet and a
+bronze space ticket. He wasn't quick enough with the wallet, and the
+doctor took it from him.
+
+"Medical Lobby authorization. If he has any money, it covers my fee and
+the rest goes to his own Lobby." There were several bills, all of large
+denominations. He turned the ticket over and began filling in the death
+certificate. "Arthur Billings. Space Lobby. Crewman. Cause of death,
+idiopathic gastroenteritis _and_ delirium tremens."
+
+There had been no evidence of delirium tremens, but apparently the
+doctor felt he had scored a point. He tossed the space ticket toward the
+shoes, closed his bag, and prepared to leave.
+
+"Hey, doc!" The attendant's voice was indignant. "Hey, what about my
+reporting fee?"
+
+The doctor stopped. He glanced at the kid, then toward Feldman, his face
+a mixture of speculation and dislike. He took a dollar bill from the
+wallet. "That's right," he admitted. "The fee for reporting a solvent
+case. Medical Lobby rules apply--even to a man who breaks them."
+
+The kid's hand was out, but the doctor dropped the dollar onto Feldman's
+cot. "There's your fee, pariah." He left, forcing the protesting
+attendant to precede him.
+
+Feldman reached for the bill. It was blood money for letting a man
+die--but it meant cigarettes and food--or shelter for another night, if
+he could get a mission meal. He no longer could afford pride. Grimly, he
+pocketed the bill, staring at the face of the dead man. It looked back
+sightlessly, now showing a faint speckling of tiny dots. They caught
+Feldman's eyes, and he bent closer. There should be no black dots on the
+skin of a man who died of space-stomach. And there should have been
+cyanosis....
+
+He swore and bent down to find the wrecks of his shoes. He couldn't
+worry about anything now but getting away from here before the attendant
+made trouble. His eyes rested on the shoes of the dead man--sturdy boots
+that would last for another year. They could do the corpse no good;
+someone else would steal them if he didn't. But he hesitated, cursing
+himself.
+
+The right boot fitted better than he could have expected, but something
+got in the way as he tried to put the left one on. His fingers found the
+bronze ticket. He turned it over, considering it. He wasn't ready to
+fraud his identity for what he'd heard of life on the spaceships, yet.
+But he shoved it into his pocket and finished lacing the boots.
+
+Outside, the snow was still falling, but it had turned to slush, and the
+sidewalk was soggy underfoot. There was going to be no work shoveling
+snow, he realized. This would melt before the day was over. Feldman
+hunched the suitcoat up, shivering as the cold bit into him. The boots
+felt good, though; if he'd had socks, they would have been completely
+comfortable.
+
+He passed a cheap restaurant, and the smell of the synthetics set his
+stomach churning. It had been two days since his last real meal, and the
+dollar burned in his pocket. But he had to wait. There was a fair
+chance this early that he could scavenge something edible.
+
+He shuffled on. After a while, the cold bothered him less, and he passed
+through the hunger spell. He rolled another smoke and sucked at it,
+hardly thinking. It was better that way.
+
+It was much later when the big caduceus set into the sidewalk snapped
+him back to awareness of where he'd traveled. His undirected feet had
+led him much too far uptown, following old habits. This was the Medical
+Lobby building, where he'd spent more than enough time, including three
+weeks in custody before they stripped him of all rank and status.
+
+His eyes wandered to the ornate entrance where he'd first emerged as a
+pariah. He'd meant to walk down those steps as if he were still a man.
+But each step had drained his resolution, until he'd finally covered his
+face and slunk off, knowing himself for what the world had branded him.
+
+He stood there now, staring at the smug young medical politicians and
+the tired old general practitioners filing in and out. One of the latter
+halted, fumbled in his pocket and drew out a quarter.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" he said dully.
+
+Feldman fingered the coin. Then he saw a gray Medical policeman watching
+him, and he knew it was time to move on. Sooner or later, someone would
+recognize him here.
+
+He clutched the quarter and turned to look for a coffee shop that sold
+the synthetics to which his metabolism had been switched. No shop would
+serve him here, but he could buy coffee and a piece of cake to take out.
+
+A flurry of motion registered from the corner of his eye, and he glanced
+back.
+
+"Taxi! Taxi!"
+
+The girl rushing down the steps had a clear soprano voice, cultured and
+commanding. The gray Medical uniform seemed molded to her shapely figure
+and her red hair glistened in the lights of the street. Her snub nose
+and determined mouth weren't the current fashion, but nobody stopped to
+think of fashions when they saw her. She didn't have to be the daughter
+of the president of Medical Lobby to rule.
+
+It was Chris--Chris Feldman once, and now Chris Ryan again.
+
+Feldman swung toward a cab. For a moment, his attitude was automatic and
+assured, and the cab stopped before the driver noticed his clothes. He
+picked up the bag Chris dropped and swung it onto the front seat. She
+was fumbling in her change purse as he turned back to shut the door.
+
+"Thank you, my good man," she said. She could be gracious, even to a
+pariah, when his homage suited her. She dropped two quarters into his
+hand, raising her eyes.
+
+Recognition flowed into them, followed by icy shock. She yanked the cab
+door shut and shouted something to the driver. The cab took off with a
+rush that left Feldman in a backwash of slush and mud.
+
+He glanced down at the coins in his hand. It was his lucky day, he
+thought bitterly.
+
+He moved across the street and away, not bothering about the squeal of
+brakes and the honking horns. He looked back only once, toward the
+glowing sign that topped the building. _Your health is our business!_
+Then the great symbol of the health business faded behind him, and he
+stumbled on, sucking incessantly at the cigarettes he rolled. One hand
+clutched the bronze badge belonging to the dead man and his stolen
+boots drove onward through the melting snow.
+
+It was Christmas in the year 2100 on the protectorate of Earth.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+Lobby
+
+
+Feldman had set his legs the problem of heading for the great spaceport
+and escape from Earth, and he let them take him without further
+guidance. His mind was wrapped up in a whirl of the past--his past and
+that of the whole planet. Both pasts had in common the growth and sudden
+ruin of idealism.
+
+Idealism! Throughout history, some men had sought the ideal, and most
+had called it freedom. Only fools expected absolute freedom, but wise
+men dreamed up many systems of relative freedom, including democracy.
+They had tried that in America, as the last fling of the dream. It had
+been a good attempt, too.
+
+The men who drew the Constitution had been pretty practical dreamers.
+They came to their task after a bitter war and a worse period of wild
+chaos, and they had learned where idealism stopped and idiocy began.
+They set up a republic with all the elements of democracy that they
+considered safe. It had worked well enough to make America the number
+one power of the world. But the men who followed the framers of the new
+plan were a different sort, without the knowledge of practical limits.
+
+The privileges their ancestors had earned in blood and care became
+automatic rights. Practical men tried to explain that there were no such
+rights--that each generation had to pay for its rights with
+responsibility. That kind of talk didn't get far. People wanted to hear
+about rights, not about duties.
+
+They took the phrase that all men were created equal and left out the
+implied kicker that equality was in the sight of God and before the law.
+They wanted an equality with the greatest men without giving up their
+drive toward mediocrity, and they meant to have it. In a way, they got
+it.
+
+They got the vote extended to everyone. The man on subsidy or public
+dole could vote to demand more. The man who read of nothing beyond sex
+crimes could vote on the great political issues of the world. No ability
+was needed for his vote. In fact, he was assured that voting alone was
+enough to make him a fine and noble citizen. He loved that, if he
+bothered to vote at all that year. He became a great man by listing his
+unthought, hungry desire for someone to take care of him without
+responsibility. So he went out and voted for the man who promised him
+most, or who looked most like what his limited dreams felt to be a
+father image or son image or hero image. He never bothered later to see
+how the men he'd elected had handled the jobs he had given them.
+
+Someone had to look, of course, and someone did. Organized special
+interests stepped in where the mob had failed. Lobbies grew up. There
+had always been pressure groups, but now they developed into a third arm
+of the government.
+
+The old Farm Lobby was unbeatable. The big farmers shaped the laws they
+wanted. They convinced the little farmers it was for the good of all,
+and they made the story stick well enough to swing the farm vote. They
+made the laws when it came to food and crops.
+
+The last of the great lobbies was Space, probably. It was an accident
+that grew up so fast it never even knew it wasn't a real part of the
+government. It developed during a period of chaos when another country
+called Russia got the first hunk of metal above the atmosphere and when
+the representatives who had been picked for everything but their grasp
+of science and government went into panic over a myth of national
+prestige.
+
+The space effort was turned over to the aircraft industry, which had
+never been able to manage itself successfully except under the stimulus
+of war or a threat of war. The failing airplane industry became the
+space combine overnight, and nobody kept track of how big it was, except
+a few sharp operators.
+
+They worked out a system of subcontracts that spread the profits so wide
+that hardly a company of any size in the country wasn't getting a share.
+Thus a lot of patriotic, noble voters got their pay from companies in
+the lobby block and could be panicked by the lobby at the first mention
+of recession.
+
+So Space Lobby took over completely in its own field. It developed
+enough pressure to get whatever appropriations it wanted, even over
+Presidential veto. It created the only space experts, which meant that
+the men placed in government agencies to regulate it came from its own
+ranks.
+
+The other lobbies learned a lot from Space.
+
+There had been a medical lobby long before, but it had been a
+conservative group, mostly concerned with protecting medical autonomy
+and ethics. It also tried to prevent government control of treatment and
+payment, feeling that it couldn't trust the people to know where to
+stop. But its history was a long series of retreats.
+
+It fought what it called socialized medicine. But the people wanted
+their troubles handled free--which meant by government spending, since
+that could be added to the national debt, and thus didn't seem to cost
+anything. It lost, and eventually the government paid most medical
+costs, with doctors working on a fixed fee. Then quantity of treatment
+paid, rather than quality. Competence no longer mattered so much. The
+Lobby lost, but didn't know it--because the lowered standards of
+competence in the profession lowered the caliber of men running the
+political aspects of that profession as exemplified by the Lobby.
+
+It took a world-wide plague to turn the tide. The plague began in old
+China; anything could start there, with more than a billion people
+huddled in one area and a few madmen planning to conquer the world. It
+might have been a laboratory mutation, but nobody could ever prove it.
+
+It wiped out two billion people, depopulated Africa and most of Asia,
+and wrecked Europe, leaving only America comparatively safe to take
+over. An obscure scientist in one of the laboratories run by the Medical
+Lobby found a cure before the first waves of the epidemic hit America.
+Rutherford Ryan, then head of the Lobby, made sure that Medical Lobby
+got all the credit.
+
+By the time the world recovered, America ran it and the Medical Lobby
+was untouchable. Ryan made a deal with Space Lobby, and the two
+effectively ran the world. None of the smaller lobbies could buck them,
+and neither could the government.
+
+There was still a president and a congress, as there had been a Senate
+under the Roman Caesars. But the two Lobbies ran themselves as they
+chose. The real government had become a kind of oligarchy, as it always
+did after too much false democracy ruined the ideals of real and
+practical self-rule. A man belonged to his Lobby, just as a serf had
+belonged to his feudal landlord.
+
+It was a safe world now. Maybe progress had been halted at about the
+level of 1980, but so long as the citizens didn't break the rules of
+their lobbies, they had very little to worry about. For that, for
+security and the right not to think, most people were willing to leave
+well enough alone.
+
+Some rules seemed harsh, of course, such as the law that all operations
+had to be performed in Lobby hospitals. But that could be justified; it
+was the only safe kind of surgery and the only way to make sure there
+was no unsupervised experimentation, such as that which supposedly
+caused the plague. The rule was now an absolute ethic of medicine. It
+also made for better fees.
+
+Feldman's father had stuck by the rule but had questioned it. Feldman
+learned not to question in medical school. He scored second in Medical
+Ethics only to Christina Ryan.
+
+He had never figured why she singled him out for her attentions, but he
+gloried in both those attentions and the results. He became
+automatically a rising young man, the favorite of the daughter of the
+Lobby president. He went through internship without a sign of trouble.
+Chris humored him in his desire to spend three years of practice in a
+poor section loaded with disease, and her father approved; such selfless
+dedication was the perfect image projection for a future son-in-law. In
+return, he agreed to follow that period by becoming an administrator. A
+doctor's doctor, as they put it.
+
+They were married in April and his office was ready in May, complete
+with a staff of eighty. The publicity releases had gone out, and the
+Public Relations Lobby that handled news and education was paid to begin
+the greatest build-up any young genius ever had.
+
+They celebrated that, with a little party of some four hundred people
+and reporters at Ryan's lodge in Canada. It was to be a gala weekend.
+
+It was then that Baxter shot himself.
+
+Baxter had been Feldman's closest friend in the Lobby. He'd come along
+to handle press relations and had gotten romantic about the countryside,
+never having been out of a city before. He hired a guide and went
+hunting, eighty miles beyond the last outpost of civilization. Somehow,
+he got his hand on a gun, though only guides were supposed to touch
+them, managed to overcome its safety devices, and then pulled the
+trigger with the gun pointed the wrong way.
+
+Chris, Feldman and Harnett from Public Relations had accompanied him on
+the trip. They were sitting in a nearby car while Feldman enjoyed the
+scenery, Chris made further plans, and Harnett gathered material. There
+was also a photographer and writer, but they hadn't been introduced by
+name.
+
+Feldman reached Baxter first. The man was moaning and scared, and he was
+bleeding profusely. Only a miracle had saved him from instant death. The
+bullet had struck a rib, been deflected and robbed of some of its
+energy, and had barely reached the heart. But it had pierced the
+pericardium, as best Feldman could guess, and it could be fatal at any
+moment.
+
+He'd reached for a probe without thinking. Chris knocked his hand aside.
+
+She was right, of course. He couldn't operate outside a hospital. But
+they had no phone in the lodge where the guide lived and no way to
+summon an ambulance. They'd have to drive Baxter back in the car, which
+would almost certainly result in his death.
+
+When Feldman seemed uncertain, Harnett had given his warning in a low
+but vehement voice. "You touch him, Dan, and I'll spread it in every one
+of our media. I'll have to. It's the only way to retain public
+confidence. There'd be a leak, with all the guides and others here, and
+we can't afford that. I like you--you have color. But touch that wound
+and I'll crucify you."
+
+Chris added her own threats. She'd spent years making him the outlet for
+all her ambitions, denied because women were still only second-rate
+members of Medical Lobby. She couldn't let it go now. And she was
+probably genuinely shocked.
+
+Baxter groaned again and started to bleed more profusely.
+
+There wasn't much equipment. Feldman operated with a pocketknife
+sterilized in a bottle of expensive Scotch and only anodyne tablets in
+place of anesthesia. He got the bullet out and sewed up the wound with a
+bit of surgical thread he'd been using to tie up a torn good-luck
+emblem. The photographer and writer recorded the whole thing. Chris
+swore harshly and beat her fists against the bole of a tree. But Baxter
+lived. He recovered completely, and was shocked at the heinous thing
+that had been done to him.
+
+They crucified Feldman.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+Spaceman
+
+
+Most crewmen lived rough, ugly lives--and usually, short ones.
+Passengers and officers on the big tubs were given the equivalent of
+gravity in spinning compartments, but the crews rode "free". The lucky
+crewmen lived through their accidents, got space-stomach now and then,
+and recovered. Nobody cared about the others.
+
+Feldman's ticket was work-stamped for the _Navaho_, and nobody
+questioned his identity. He suffered through the agony of acceleration
+on the shuttle up to the orbital station, then was sick as acceleration
+stopped. But he was able to control himself enough to follow other
+crewmen down a hall of the station toward the _Navaho_. The big ships
+never touched a planet, always docking at the stations.
+
+A checker met the crew and reached for their badges. He barely glanced
+at them, punched a mark for each on his checkoff sheet, and handed them
+back. "Deckmen forward, tubemen to the rear," he ordered. "_Navaho_
+blasts in fifteen minutes. Hey, you! You're tubes."
+
+Feldman grunted. He should have expected it. Tubemen had the lowest lot
+of all the crew. Between the killing work, the heat of the tubes, and
+occasional doses of radiation, their lives weren't worth the metal value
+of their tickets.
+
+He began pulling himself clumsily along a shaft, dodging freight the
+loaders were tossing from hand to hand. A bag hit his head, drawing
+blood, and another caught him in the groin.
+
+"Watch it, bo," a loader yelled at him. "You dent that bag and they'll
+brig you. Cantcha see it's got a special courtesy stripe?"
+
+It had a brilliant green stripe, he saw. It also had a name, printed in
+block letters that shouted their identity before he could read the
+words. _Dr. Christina Ryan, Southport, Mars._
+
+And he'd had to choose this time to leave Earth!
+
+Suddenly he was glad he was assigned to the tubes. It was the one place
+on the ship where he'd be least likely to run into her. As a doctor and
+a courtesy passenger, she'd have complete run of the ship, but she'd
+hardly bother with the dangerous and unpleasant tube section.
+
+He dragged his way back, beginning to sweat with the effort. The
+_Navaho_ was an old ship. A lot of the handholds were missing, and he
+had to throw himself along by erratic leaps. He was gaining proficiency,
+but not enough to handle himself if the ship blasted off. Time was
+growing short when he reached the aft bunkroom where the other tubemen
+were waiting.
+
+"Ben," one husky introduced himself. "Tube chief. Know how to work
+this?"
+
+Feldman could see that they were assembling a small still. He'd heard of
+the phenomenal quantities of beer spacemen drank, and now he realized
+what really happened to it. Hard liquor was supposed to be forbidden,
+but they made their own. "I can work it," he decided. "I'm--uh--Dan."
+
+"Okay, Dan." Ben glanced at the clock. "Hit the sacks, boys."
+
+By the time Feldman could settle into the sacklike hammock, the
+_Navaho_ began to shake faintly, and weight piled up. It was mild
+compared to that on the shuttle, since the big ships couldn't take high
+acceleration. Space had been conquered for more than a century, but the
+ships were still flimsy tubs that took months to reach Mars, using
+immense amounts of fuel. Only the valuable plant hormones from Mars made
+commerce possible at the ridiculously high freight rate.
+
+Three hours later he began to find out why spacemen didn't seem to fear
+dying or turning pariah. The tube quarters had grown insufferably hot
+during the long blast, but the main tube-room was blistering as Ben led
+the men into it. The chief handed out spacesuits and motioned for Dan.
+
+"Greenhorn, aincha? Okay, I'll take you with me. We go out in the tubes
+and pull the lining. I pry up the stuff, you carry it back here and
+stack it."
+
+They sealed off the tube-room, pumped out the air, and went into the
+steaming, mildly radioactive tubes, just big enough for a man on hands
+and knees. Beyond the tube mouth was empty space, waiting for the man
+who slipped. Ben began ripping out the eroded blocks with a special
+tool. Feldman carried them back and stacked them along with others. A
+plasma furnace melted them down into new blocks. The work grew
+progressively worse as the distance to the tube-room increased. The tube
+mouth yawned closer and closer. There were no handholds there--only the
+friction of a man's body in the tube.
+
+Life settled into a dull routine of labor, sleep, and the brief relief
+of the crude white mule from the still.
+
+They were six weeks out and almost finished with the tube cleaning when
+Number Two tube blew. Bits of the remaining radioactive fuel must have
+collected slowly until they reached blow-point. Feldman in Number One
+would have gone sailing out into space, but Ben reacted at once. As the
+ship leaped slightly, Feldman brought up sharply against the chief's
+braced body. For a second their fate hung in the balance. Then it was
+over, and Ben shoved him back, grinning faintly.
+
+He jerked his thumb and touched helmets briefly. "There they go, Dan."
+
+The two men who had been working in Number Two were charred lumps,
+drifting out into space.
+
+No further comment was made on it, except that they'd have to work
+harder from now on, since they were shorthanded.
+
+That rest period Feldman came down with a mild attack of
+space-stomach--which meant no more drinking for him--and was off work
+for a day. Then the pace picked up. The tubes were cleared and they
+began laying the new lining for the landing blasts. There was no time
+for thought after that. Mars' orbital station lay close when the work
+was finished.
+
+Ben slapped Feldman on the back. "Ya ain't bad for a greenie, Dan. We
+all get six-day passes on Mars. Hit the sack now so you won't waste time
+sleeping then. We'll hear it when the ship berths."
+
+Feldman didn't hear it, but the others did. He felt Ben shaking his
+shoulder, trying to drag him out of the sack. "Grab your junk, Dan."
+
+Ben picked up Feldman's nearly empty bag and tossed it toward him,
+before his eyes were fully open. He grabbed for it and missed. He
+grabbed again, with Ben's laughter in his ears. The bag hit the wall and
+fell open, spilling its contents.
+
+Feldman began gathering it up, but the chief was no longer laughing. A
+big hand grabbed up the space ticket suddenly, and there was no
+friendliness now on Ben's face.
+
+"Art Billing's card!" Ben told the other tubemen. "Five trips I made
+with Art. He was saving his money, going to buy a farm on Mars. Five
+trips and one more to go before he had enough. Now you show up with his
+ticket!"
+
+The tubemen moved forward toward Feldman. There was no indecision. To
+them, apparently, trial had been held and sentence passed.
+
+"Wait a minute," Feldman began. "Billings died of--"
+
+A fist snaked past his raised hand and connected with his jaw. He
+bounced off a wall. A wrench sailed toward him, glanced off his arm, and
+ripped at his muscles. Another heavy fist struck.
+
+Abruptly, Ben's voice cut through their yells. "Hold it!" He shoved
+through the group, tossing men backwards. "Stow it! We can take care of
+him later. Right now, this is captain's business. You fools want to lose
+your leave?" He indicated two of the others. "You two bring him
+along--and keep him quiet!"
+
+The two grabbed Feldman's arms and dragged him along as the chief began
+pulling his way forward through the tubes up towards the control section
+of the ship. Feldman took a quick glance at their faces and made no
+effort to resist; they obviously would have enjoyed any chance to subdue
+him.
+
+They were stopped twice by minor officers, then sent on. They finally
+found the captain near the exit lock, apparently assisting the
+passengers to leave. Most of them went on into the shuttle, but Chris
+Ryan remained behind as the captain listened to Ben's report and
+inspected the false ticket.
+
+Finally the captain turned to Feldman. "You. What's your name?"
+
+Chris' eyes were squarely on Feldman, cold and furious. "He _was_ Doctor
+Daniel Feldman, Captain Marker," she stated.
+
+Feldman stood paralyzed. He'd been unwilling to face Chris. He wanted to
+avoid all the past. But the idea that she would denounce him had never
+entered his head. There was no Medical rule involved. She knew that as a
+pariah he was forbidden to board a passenger ship, of course. But she'd
+been his wife once!
+
+Marker bowed slightly to her. "Thank you, Dr. Ryan. I should take this
+criminal back to Earth in chains, I suppose. But he's hardly worth the
+freightage. You men. Want to take him down to Mars and ground him
+there?"
+
+Ben grinned and touched his forelock. "Thank you, sir. We'd enjoy that."
+
+"Good. His pay reverts to the ship's fund. That's all, men."
+
+Feldman started to protest, but a fist lashed savagely against his
+mouth.
+
+He made no other protests as they dragged him into the crew shuttle that
+took off for Southport. He avoided their eyes and sat hunched over. It
+was Ben who finally broke the silence.
+
+"What happened to Art's money? He had a pile on him."
+
+"Go to hell!"
+
+"Give, I said!" Ben twisted his arm back toward his shoulder, applying
+increasing pressure.
+
+"A doctor took it for his fee when Billings died of space-stomach. Damn
+you, I couldn't help him!"
+
+Ben looked at the others. "Med Lobby fee, eh? All the market will take.
+Umm. It could be, maybe." He shrugged. "Okay, reasonable doubt. We
+won't kill you, bo. Not quite, we won't."
+
+The shuttle landed and Ben handed out the little helmets and aspirators
+that made life possible in Mars' thin air. Outside, the tubemen took
+turns holding Feldman and beating him while the passengers disembarked
+from their shuttle. As he slumped into unconsciousness, he had a picture
+of Chris Ryan's frozen face as she moved steadily toward the port
+station.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+Martian
+
+
+It was night when Feldman came to, and the temperature was dropping
+rapidly. He struggled to sit up through a fog of pain. Somewhere in his
+bag, he should have an anodyne tablet that would kill any ache. He
+finally found the pill and swallowed it, fumbling with the aspirator lip
+opening.
+
+The aspirator meant life to him now, he suddenly realized. He twisted to
+stare at the tiny charge-indicator for the battery. It showed
+half-charge. Then he saw that someone had attached another battery
+beside it. He puzzled briefly over it, but his immediate concern was for
+shelter.
+
+Apparently he was still where he had been knocked out. There was a light
+coming from the little station, and he headed toward that, fumbling for
+the few quarters that represented his entire fortune.
+
+Maybe it would have been better if the tubemen had killed him. Batteries
+were an absolute necessity here, food and shelter would be expensive,
+and he had no skills to earn his way. At most, he had only a day or so
+left. But meantime, he had to find warmth before the cold killed him.
+
+The tiny restaurant in the station was still open, and the air was warm
+inside. He pulled off the aspirator, shutting off the battery.
+
+The counterman didn't even glance up as he entered. Feldman gazed at the
+printed menu and flinched.
+
+"Soup," he ordered. It was the cheapest item he could find.
+
+The counterman stared at him, obviously spotting his Earth origin. "You
+adjusted to synthetics?"
+
+Feldman nodded. Earth operated on a mixed diet, with synthetics for all
+who couldn't afford the natural foods there. But Mars was all synthetic.
+Many of the chemicals in food could exist in either of two forms, or
+isomers; they were chemically alike, but differently crystallized.
+Sometimes either form was digestible, but frequently the body could use
+only the isomer to which it was adjusted.
+
+Martian plants produced different isomers from those on Earth. Since the
+synthetic foods turned out to be Mars-normal, that was probably the more
+natural form. Research designed to let the early colonists live off
+native food here had turned up an enzyme that enabled the body to handle
+either isomer. In a few weeks of eating Martian or synthetic food, the
+body adapted; without more enzyme, it lost its power to handle
+Earth-normal food.
+
+The cheapness of synthetics and the discovery that many diseases common
+to Earth would not attack Mars-normal bodies led to the wide use of
+synthetics on Earth. No pariah could have been expected to afford
+Earth-normal.
+
+Feldman finished the soup, and found a cigarette that was smokable. "Any
+objections if I sit in the waiting room?"
+
+He'd expected a rejection, but the counterman only shrugged. The waiting
+room was almost dark and the air was chilly, but there was normal
+pressure. He found a bench and slumped onto it, lighting his cigarette.
+He'd miss the smokes--but probably not for long. He finished the
+cigarette reluctantly and sat huddled on the bench, waiting for morning.
+
+The airlock opened later, and feet sounded on the boards of the
+waiting-room floor, but he didn't look up until a thin beam of light hit
+him. Then he sighed and nodded. The shoes, made of some odd fiber,
+didn't look like those of a cop, but this was Mars. He could see only a
+hulking shadow behind the light.
+
+"You the man who was a medical doctor?" The voice was dry and old.
+
+"Yeah," Feldman answered. "Once."
+
+"Good. Thought that space crewman was just lying drunk at first. Come
+along, Doc."
+
+"Why?" It didn't matter, but if they wanted him to move on, they'd have
+to push a little harder.
+
+The light swung up to show the other. He was the shade of old leather
+with a bleached patch of sandy hair and the deepest gray eyes Feldman
+had ever seen. It was a face that could have belonged to a country
+storekeeper in New England, with the same hint of dry humor. The man was
+dressed in padded levis and a leather jacket of unguessable age. His
+aspirator seemed worn and patched, and one big hand fumbled with it.
+
+"Because we're friends, Doc," the voice drawled at him. "Because you
+might as well come with us as sit here. Maybe we have a job for you."
+
+Feldman shrugged and stood up. If the man was a Lobby policeman, he was
+different from the usual kind. Nothing could be worse than the present
+prospects.
+
+They went out through the doors of the waiting room toward a rattletrap
+vehicle. It looked something like a cross between a schoolboy's jalopy
+and a scaled-down army tank of former times. The treads were caterpillar
+style, and the stubby body was completely enclosed. A tiny airlock
+stuck out from the rear.
+
+Two men were inside, both bearded. The old man grinned at them. "Mark,
+Lou, meet Doc Feldman. Sit, Doc. I'm Jake Mullens, and you might say we
+were farmers."
+
+The motor started with a wheeze. The tractor swung about and began
+heading away from Southport toward the desert dunes. It shook and
+rattled, but it seemed to make good time.
+
+"I don't know anything about farming," Feldman protested.
+
+Jake shrugged. "No, of course not. Couple of our friends heard about you
+where a spaceman was getting drunk and tipped us off. We know who you
+are. Here, try a bracky?"
+
+Feldman took what seemed to be a cigarette and studied it doubtfully. It
+was coarse and fibrous inside, with a thin, hard shell that seemed to be
+a natural growth, as if it had been chopped from some vine. He lighted
+it, not knowing what to expect. Then he coughed as the bitter, rancid
+smoke burned at his throat. He started to throw it down, and hesitated.
+Jake was smoking one, and it had killed the craving for tobacco almost
+instantly.
+
+"Some like 'em, most don't," Jake said. "They won't hurt you. Look--see
+that? Old Martian ruins. Built by some race a million years ago. Only
+half a dozen on Mars."
+
+It was only a clump of weathered stone buildings in the light from the
+tractor, and Feldman had seen better in the stereo shots. It was
+interesting only because it connected with the legendary Martian race,
+like the canals that showed from space but could not be seen on the
+surface of the planet.
+
+Feldman waited for the other to go on, but Jake was silent. Finally, he
+ground out the butt of the weed. "Okay, Jake. What do you want with me?"
+
+"Consultation, maybe. Ever hear of herb doctors? I'm one of them."
+
+Feldman knew that the Lobby permitted some leniency here, due to the
+scarcity of real medical help. There was only one decent hospital at
+Northport, on the opposite side of the planet.
+
+Jake sighed and reached for another bracky weed. "Yeah, I'm pretty good
+with herbs. But I got a sick village on my hands and I can't handle it.
+We can't all mortgage our work to pay for a trip to Northport.
+Southport's all messed up while the new she-doctor gets her metabolism
+changed. Maybe the old guy there would have helped, but he died a couple
+months ago. So it looks like you're our only hope."
+
+"Then you have no hope," Feldman told him sickly. "I'm a pariah, Jake. I
+can't do a thing for you."
+
+"We heard about your argument with the Lobby. News reaches Mars. But
+these are mighty sick people, Doc."
+
+Feldman shook his head. "Better take me back. I'm not allowed to
+practice medicine. The charge would be first-degree murder if anything
+happened."
+
+Lou leaned forward. "Shall I talk to him, Jake?"
+
+The old man grimaced. "Time enough. Let him see what we got first."
+
+Sand howled against the windshield and the tractor bumped and surged
+along. Feldman took another of the weeds and tried to estimate their
+course. But he had no idea where they were when the tractor finally
+stopped. There was a village of small huts that seemed to be merely
+entrances to living quarters dug under the surface. They led him into
+one and through a tunnel into a large room filled with simple cots and
+the unhappy sounds of sick people.
+
+Two women were disconsolately trying to attend to the half-dozen
+sick--four children and two adults. Their faces brightened as they saw
+Jake, then fell. "Eb and Tilda died," they reported.
+
+Feldman looked at the two figures under the sheets and whistled. The
+same black specks he had seen on the face of Billings covered the skins
+of the two old people who had died.
+
+"Funny," Jake said slowly. "They didn't quite act like the others and
+they sure died mighty fast. Darn it, I had it figured for that stuff in
+the book. Infantile paralysis. How about it, Doc? Sort of like a cold,
+stiff sore neck."
+
+It was clearly polio--one of the diseases that could attack Mars-normal
+flesh. Feldman nodded at the symptoms, staring at the sick kids. He
+shrugged, finally. "There's a cure for it, but I don't have the serum.
+Neither do you, or you wouldn't have brought me here. I couldn't help if
+I wanted to."
+
+"That old book didn't list a cure," Jake told him. "But it said the kids
+didn't have to be crippled. There was something about a Kenny treatment.
+Doc, does the stuff really cripple for life?"
+
+Feldman saw one of the boys flinch. He dropped his eyes, remembering the
+Lobby's efficient spy service on Earth and wondering what it was like
+here. But he knew the outcome.
+
+"Damn you, Jake!"
+
+Jake chuckled. "Thought you would. We sure appreciate it. Just tell us
+what to do, Doc."
+
+Feldman began writing down his requirements, trying to remember the
+details of the treatment. Exercise, hot compresses, massage. It was
+coming back to him. He'd have to do it himself, of course, to get the
+feel of it. He couldn't explain it well enough. But he couldn't turn his
+back on the kids, either.
+
+"Maybe I can help," he said doubtfully as he moved toward a cot.
+
+"No, Doc." Jake's voice wasn't amused any longer, and he held the
+younger man back. "You're doing us a favor, and I'll be darned if I'll
+let you stick your neck out too far. You can't treat 'em yourself. Mars
+is tougher than Earth. You should live under Space Lobby _and_ Medical
+Lobby here a while. Oh, maybe they don't mind a few fools like me being
+herb doctors, but they'd sure hate to have a man who can do real
+medicine outside their hands. You let me do it, or get in the tractor
+and I'll have Lou drive you back. Once you start in here, there'll be no
+stopping. Believe me."
+
+Feldman looked at him, seeing the colonials around him for the first
+time as people. It had been a long time since he'd been treated as a
+fellow human by anyone.
+
+Jake was right, he knew. Once he put his hand to the bandage, eventually
+there'd be no turning back from the scalpel. These people needed medical
+help too desperately. Eventually, the news would spread, and the Lobby
+police would come for him. Chris couldn't afford to shield him. In fact,
+he was sure now that she'd hunt him night and day.
+
+"Don't be a fool, Jake," he ordered brusquely. He handed his list to one
+of the women. "You'll have to learn to do what I do," he told the people
+there. "You'll have to work like fools for weeks. But there won't be
+many crippled children. I can promise that much!"
+
+He blinked sharply at the sudden hope in their eyes. But his mind went
+on wondering how long it would be before the inevitable would catch up
+with him. With luck, maybe a few months. But he hadn't been blessed with
+any superabundance of luck. It would probably be less time than he
+thought.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+Surgery
+
+
+Doc Feldman's luck was better than he had expected. For an Earth year,
+he was a doctor again, moving about from village to village as he was
+needed and doing what he could.
+
+The village had been isolated during the early colonization when Mars
+made a feeble attempt to break free of Space Lobby. Their supplies had
+been cut off and they had been forced to do for themselves. Now they
+were largely self-sufficient. They grew native plants and extracted
+hormones in crude little chemical plants. The hormones were traded to
+the big chemical plants for a pittance to buy what had to come from
+Earth. Other jury-rigged affairs synthesized much of their food. But
+mostly they learned to get along on what Mars provided.
+
+Doc Feldman learned from them. Money was no longer part of his life. He
+ate with whatever family needed him and slipped into the life around
+him.
+
+He was learning Martian medicine and finding that his Earth courses were
+mostly useless. No wonder the villagers distrusted Lobby doctors. Doc
+had his own little laboratory where he had managed to start making
+Mars-normal penicillin--a primitive antibiotic, but better than nothing.
+
+Jake had come to remind him that it was his first anniversary, and now
+they were smoking bracky together.
+
+"Sheer luck, Jake," Doc repeated. "You Martians are tough. But some day
+someone is going to die under my care, with the little equipment I have.
+Then--"
+
+Jake nodded slowly. "Maybe, Doc. And maybe some day Mars will break free
+of the Lobbies. You'd better pray for that."
+
+"I've been--" Doc stopped, realizing what he'd started to say. The old
+man chuckled.
+
+"You've been talking rebellion for months, Doc. I hear rumors. Whenever
+you get mad, you want us to secede. But you don't really mean it yet.
+You can't picture any government but the one you're used to."
+
+Doc grinned. Jake had a point, but it was not as strong as it would have
+been a few months before. The towns under the Lobby were cheap
+imitations of Earth, but here, divorced to a large extent from the
+lobbies, the villages were making Mars their own. Their ways might be
+strange; but they worked.
+
+Jake shifted his body in the weak sunlight. "Newton village forgot to
+report a death on time. I hear Ryan is sweating them out, trying to
+prove it was your fault."
+
+There was no evidence against him yet, Doc was sure. But Chris was out
+to prove something, and to get a reputation as a top-flight
+administrator. It must have hurt when they shipped her here as head of
+the lesser hemisphere of Mars. She'd expected to use Feldman as a front
+while she became the actual ruler of the whole Lobby. Now she wanted to
+strike back.
+
+"She's using blackmail," he said, and some of his old bitterness was in
+his voice. "Anyone taking treatment from an herb doctor in this section
+is cut off from Medical Lobby service. Damn it, Jake, that could mean
+letting people die!"
+
+"Yeah." Jake sighed softly. "It could mean letting people begin to
+think about getting rid of the Lobby, too. Well, I gotta help harvest
+the bracky. Take it easy on operating for a while, will you, Doc?"
+
+"All right, Jake. But stop keeping the serious cases a secret. Two men
+died last month because you wouldn't call me for surgery. I've broken
+all my oaths already. It doesn't matter anymore."
+
+"It matters, boy. We've been lucky, but some day one case will go to the
+hospital and they'll find your former work. Then they'll really be after
+you. The less you do the better."
+
+Doc watched Jake slump off, then turned down into the little root cellar
+and back toward the room concealed behind it, where his crude laboratory
+lay. For the moment, he was free to work on the mystery of the black
+spots.
+
+He kept running into them--always on the body of someone who died of
+something that seemed like a normal disease. Without a microscope, he
+was almost helpless, but he had taken specimens and tried to culture
+them. Some of his cultures had grown, though they might be nothing but
+unknown Martian fungi or bacteria. Mars was dry and almost devoid of
+air, but plants and a few smaller insects had survived and adapted. It
+wasn't by any means lifeless.
+
+Without a microscope, he could do little but depend on his files of
+cases. But today there was new evidence. A villager had filched an Earth
+_Medical Journal_ from the tractor driven by Chris Ryan and forwarded it
+to him. He found the black specks mentioned in a single paragraph, under
+skin diseases. Investigation of the diet was being made, since all cases
+were among people eating synthetics.
+
+There was another article on aberrant cases--a few strange little
+misbehaviors in classical syndromes. He studied that, wondering. It had
+to be the same thing. Diet didn't account for the fact that the specks
+appeared only when the patient was near death.
+
+Nor did it account for the hard lump at the base of the neck which he
+found in every case he could check. That might be coincidence, but he
+doubted it.
+
+Whatever it was, it aggravated any other disease the patient had and
+made seemingly simple diseases turn out to be completely and rapidly
+fatal. Once syphilis had been called "The Great Imitator". This gave
+promise of being worse.
+
+He shook his head, cursing his lack of equipment. Each month more people
+were dying with these specks--and he was helpless.
+
+The concealed door broke open suddenly and a boy thrust his head in.
+"Doc, there's a man here from Einstein. Says his wife's dying."
+
+The man was already coming into the room.
+
+"She's powerful sick, Doc. Had a bellyache, fever, began throwing up.
+Pains under her belly, like she's had before. But this time it's awful."
+
+Doc shot a few questions at him, frowning at what he heard. Then he
+began packing the few things that might help. There should be no
+appendicitis on Mars. The bugs responsible for that shouldn't have
+adapted to Mars-normal. But more and more infections found ways to cross
+the border. Gangrene had been able to get by without change, it seemed.
+So far, none of the contagious infections except polio and the common
+cold had made the jump.
+
+This sounded like an advanced case, perhaps already involving
+peritonitis.
+
+So far, he'd been lucky with penicillin, but each time he used it with
+grave doubts of its action on the Mars-adapted patients. If the appendix
+had burst, however, it was the only possible treatment.
+
+He riffled through his stores; There was ether enough, fortunately. The
+villagers had made that for him out of Martian plants, using their
+complicated fermentation processes. He yelled for Jake, and the boy
+brought the old man back a moment later.
+
+"Jake, I'll need more of that narcotic stuff. I don't want the woman
+writhing and tearing her stitches after the ether wears off."
+
+"Can't get it, Doc." Jake's eyes seemed to cloud as he said it.
+"Distilling plant broke down. Doc, I don't like this case. That woman's
+been to the hospital three times. I hear she just got out recently. This
+might be a plant, or they figure they can't help her."
+
+"They're afraid to try anything on Mars-normal flesh. They can't be
+proved wrong if they do nothing." Doc finished packing his bag and got
+ready to go out. "Jake, either I'm a doctor or I'm not. I can't worry
+when a woman may be dying."
+
+For a second, Jake's expression was stubborn. Then the little crow's
+feet around his eyes deepened and the dry chuckle was back in his voice.
+"Right, Dr. Feldman." He flipped up his thumb and went off at a
+shuffling run toward the tractor. Lou and the man from Einstein followed
+Doc into the machine.
+
+It was a silent ride, except for Doc's questions about the sick woman.
+Her husband, George Lynn, was evasive and probably ignorant. He admitted
+that Harriet had been to the dispensary and small infirmary that
+Southport called a hospital.
+
+It was the only place in the entire Southern hemisphere where an
+operation could be performed legally. Most cases had to go to
+Northport, but Chris had been trying to expand. Apparently, she was
+determined to make Southport into another major center before she was
+called back to Earth.
+
+Doc wondered why the villagers went there. They had no medical insurance
+with the Lobby; they couldn't afford it. Most villagers didn't have the
+cash, either. They were forced to mortgage their future work and that of
+their families to the drug plants that were run by the Lobby.
+
+"And they just turned your wife away?" Doc asked. He couldn't quite
+believe that of Chris.
+
+"Well, I dunno. She wouldn't talk much. Twice she went and they gave her
+something. Cost every cent I could borrow. Then this last time, they
+kept her a couple days before they let me come and get her. But now
+she's a lot worse."
+
+Jake spun about, suddenly tense. "How'd you pay them last time, George?"
+
+"Why, they didn't ask. I told her she could put up six months from me
+and the kids, but nobody said nothing about it. Just gave her back to
+me." He frowned slowly, his dull voice uncertain. "They told me they'd
+done all they could, not to bring her back. That's why she was so strong
+on getting Doc."
+
+"I don't like it," Jake said flatly. "It stinks. They always charge.
+George, did they suggest she get in touch with Doc here?"
+
+"Maybe they did, maybe not. Harriet did all the talking with them. I
+just do what she tells me, and she said to get Doc."
+
+Jake swore. "It smells like a trap. Are you sure she's sick, George?"
+
+"I felt her head and she sure had a fever." George Lynn was torn
+between his loyalties. "You know me, Doc. You fixed me up that time I
+had the red pip. I wouldn't pull nothing on you."
+
+Doc had a feeling that Jake was probably right, but he vetoed the
+suggestion that they stop to look for spies. He had no time for that. If
+the woman was really sick, he had to get to her at once, and even that
+might be too late.
+
+He remembered the woman, sickly from other treatment. He'd been forced
+to remove her inflamed tonsils a few months before. She'd whined and
+complained because he couldn't spend all his time attending her. She was
+a nag, a shrew, and a totally selfish woman. But that was her husband's
+worry, not his.
+
+He dashed into the little house when they reached Einstein, and his
+first glance confirmed what George Lynn had said. The woman was sick,
+all right. She was running a high fever. Much too high.
+
+She began whining and protesting at his having taken so long, but the
+pain soon forced her to stop.
+
+"There may still be a chance," Doc told her husband brusquely. He threw
+the cleanest sheet onto a table and shoved it under the single light.
+"Keep out of the way--in the other room, if you can all pile in there.
+This isn't exactly aseptic, anyhow. You can boil a lot of water, if you
+want to help."
+
+It would give them something to do and he could use the water to clean
+up. There was no time to wait for it, however. He had to sterilize with
+alcohol and carbolic acid, and hope. He bent over the woman, ripping her
+thin gown across to make room for the operation.
+
+Then he swore.
+
+Across her abdomen was the unhealed wound of a previous operation.
+They'd worked on her at Southport. They must have removed the appendix
+and then been shocked by the signs of infection. They weren't supposed
+to release a sick patient, but there was an easy out for them; they
+could remove her from the danger of spreading an unknown infection. Some
+doctors must have doped her up on sedatives and painkillers and sent her
+home, knowing that she would call him. For that matter, they might have
+noticed her unrecorded tonsillectomy and considered her fair bait.
+
+He grabbed the ether and slapped a cone over her nose. She tried to
+protest; she never cooperated in anything. But the fumes of the ether he
+dipped onto the packing of the cone soon overcame that.
+
+It was peritonitis, of course. The only thing to do was to go in and
+scrape and clean as best he could. It was a rotten job to have to do,
+and he should have had help. But he gritted his teeth and began. He
+couldn't trust anyone else to hold the instruments, even.
+
+He cleaned the infection as best he could, knowing there was almost no
+chance. He used all the penicillin he dared. Then he began sewing up the
+incision. It was all he could do, except for dressing the wound with a
+sterile bandage. He reached for one, and stopped.
+
+While he'd been working, the woman had died, far more quietly than she
+had ever lived.
+
+It was probably the only gracious act of her life. But it was damning to
+Doc. They couldn't hide her death, and any investigation would show that
+someone had worked on her. To the Lobby, he would be the one who had
+murdered her.
+
+Jake was waiting in the tractor. He took one look at Doc's face and made
+no inquiries.
+
+They were more than a mile away when Jake pointed back. Small in the
+distance, but distinct against the sands, a gray Medical Corps tractor
+was coming. Either they'd had a spy in the village or they'd guessed the
+rate of her infection very closely. They must have hoped to catch Doc in
+the act, and they'd barely missed.
+
+It wouldn't matter. Their pictures and what testimony they could force
+from the village should be enough to hang Doc.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+Research
+
+
+There had been a council the night following the death of Harriet Lynn.
+Somehow the word had spread through the villages and the chiefs had
+assembled in Jake's village. But they had brought no solution, and in
+the long run had been forced to accept Doc's decision.
+
+"I'm not going to retire and hide," he'd told them, surprised at his own
+decision, but grimly determined. "You need me and I need you. I'll move
+every day in hopes the Lobby police won't find me, but I won't quit."
+
+Now he was packing the things he most needed and getting ready to move.
+The small bottles in which he was trying to grow his cultures would need
+warmth. He shoved them into an inner pocket, and began surveying what
+must be left.
+
+He was heading for his tractor when another battered machine drove up.
+It had a girl of about fourteen, with tears streaming down her face. She
+held out a pleading hand, and her voice was scared. "It's--it's mama!"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Leibnitz."
+
+Leibnitz was near enough. Doc started his tractor, motioning for the
+girl to lead the way. The little dwelling she led him to was at the edge
+of the village, looking more poverty-stricken than most.
+
+Chris Ryan, and three of the Medical Lobby police were inside, waiting.
+The girl's mother was tied to the bed, with a collection of medical
+instruments laid out, but apparently the threat had been enough. No
+actual injury had been inflicted. Probably none had been intended
+seriously.
+
+"I knew you'd answer that kind of call," Chris said coldly.
+
+He grinned sickly. They'd wasted no time. "I hear it's more than you'll
+do, Chris. Congratulations! My patient died. You're lucky."
+
+"She was certainly dead when my men took her picture. The print shows
+the death grimace clearly."
+
+"Pretty. Frame it and keep it to comfort you when you feel lonely," he
+snapped.
+
+She struck him across the mouth with the handle of her gun. Then she
+twisted out through the door quickly, heading for the tractor that had
+been camouflaged to look like those used by the villagers. The three
+police led him behind her.
+
+A shout went up, and people began to rush onto the village street. But
+they were too late. By the time they reached Southport, Doc could see a
+trail of battered tractors behind, but there was nothing more the people
+could do. Chris had her evidence and her prisoner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Judge Ben Wilson might have been Jake's brother. He was older and
+grayer, but the same expression lay on his face. He must have been the
+family black sheep, since his father had been president of Space Lobby.
+Instead of inheriting the position, Wilson had remained on Mars, safely
+out of the family's way.
+
+He dropped the paper he was reading to frown at Chris. "This the
+fellow?"
+
+She began formal charges, but he cut them off. "Your lawyer already had
+all that drawn up. I've been expecting you, Doctor. Doctor! Hnnf! You'd
+do a lot better home somewhere raising a flock of babies. Well, young
+fellow--so you're Feldman. Okay, your trial comes up day after tomorrow.
+Be a shame to lock you in Southport jail, a man of your importance.
+We'll just keep you here in the pending-trial room. It's a lot more
+comfortable."
+
+Chris had been boiling slowly, and now she seemed to blow her safety
+valve. "Judge Wilson, your methods are your own business in local
+affairs. But this involves Earth Medical Lobby. I demand--"
+
+"Tch, _tch_!" The judge stared at her reprovingly. "Young woman, you
+don't demand anything. This is Mars. If Space Lobby can stand me, I
+guess our friends over at Medical will have to. Or should I hold trial
+right now and find Feldman innocent for lack of evidence?"
+
+"You wouldn't!" Chris cried. Then her face sobered suddenly. "I
+apologize. Medical is pleased to leave things in your hands, of course."
+
+Wilson smiled. "Court's closed for today. Doc, I'll show you your cell.
+It's right next to my study, so I'm heading there anyhow."
+
+He began shucking his robe while Chris went out with the police, her
+voice sharp and continual.
+
+The cell was both reasonably escape-proof and comfortable, Doc saw, and
+he tried to thank the judge.
+
+But the old man waved it aside. "Forget it. I just like to see that
+little termagant taken down. But don't count on my being soft. My
+methods may be a bit unusual--I always did like the courtroom scenes in
+the old books by that fellow Smith--but Space Lobby never had any
+reason to reverse my decisions. Anything you need?"
+
+"Sure," Doc told him, grinning in spite of his bitterness. "A good
+biology lab and an electron microscope."
+
+"Umm. How about a good optical mike and some stains? Just got them in on
+the last shipment. Figure they were meant for you anyhow, since Jake
+Mullens asked me to order them."
+
+He went out and came back with the box almost at once. He snorted at
+Doc's incredulous thanks and moved off, his bedroom slippers slapping
+against the hard floor.
+
+Doc stared after him. If he were a friend of Jake, willing to invent
+some excuse to get a microscope here ... but it didn't matter. Friend or
+foe, his death sentence would be equally fatal. And there were other
+things to be thought of now. The little microscope was an excellent one,
+though only a monocular.
+
+Doc's hands trembled as he drew his cultures out and began making up a
+slide. The sun offered the best source of light near the window, and he
+adjusted the instrument. Something began to come into view, but too
+faintly to be really visible.
+
+He remembered the stains, trying to recall his biology courses. More by
+luck than skill, his fourth try gave him results.
+
+Under two thousand powers, he could just see details. There were dozens
+of cells in his impure culture, but only one seemed unfamiliar. It was a
+long, worm-like thing, sharpened at both ends, with the three separate
+nuclei that were typical of Martian life forms. Nearby were a host of
+little rodlike squiggles just too small to see clearly.
+
+Martian life! No Martian bug had ever proved harmful to men. Yet this
+was no mutated cell or virus from Earth; it was a new disease,
+completely different from all others. It was one where all Earth's
+centuries of experience with bacteria would be valueless--the first
+Martian disease. Unless this was simply some accidental contamination of
+his culture, not common to the other samples. He worked on until the
+light was too faint before putting the microscope aside.
+
+By the time the trial commenced, however, he was sure of the cause of
+the disease. It _was_ Martian. Crude as his cultures were, they had
+proved that.
+
+The little courtroom was filled, mostly from the villages. Lou was
+there, along with others he had come to know. Then the sight of Jake
+caught Doc's eyes. The darned fool had no business there; he could get
+too closely mixed into the whole mess.
+
+"Court's in session," Wilson announced. "Doc, you represented by
+counsel?"
+
+Jake's voice answered. "Your Honor, I represent the defendant. I think
+you'll find my credentials in order."
+
+Chris started to protest, but Wilson grinned. "Never lost your standing
+in spite of that little fracas thirty years ago, so far as I know. But
+the police thought you were a witness when you came walking in. Figured
+you were giving up."
+
+"I never said so," Jake answered.
+
+Chris was squirming angrily, but the florid man acting as counsel for
+Medical Lobby shook his head, bending over to whisper in her ear. He
+straightened. "No objection to counsel for the defense. We recognize his
+credentials."
+
+"You're a fool, Matthews," the judge told him. "Jake was smarter than
+half the rest of Legal Lobby before he went native. Still can tie your
+tail to a can. Okay, let's start things. I'm too old to dawdle."
+
+Doc lost track of most of what happened. This was totally unlike
+anything on Earth, though it might have been in keeping with the general
+casualness of the villages. Maybe the ritualistic routine of the Lobbies
+was driving those who could resist to the opposite extreme.
+
+Chris was the final witness. Matthews drew comment of Feldman's former
+crime from her, and Jake made no protest, though Wilson seemed to expect
+one. Then she began sewing his shroud. There wasn't a fact that managed
+to emerge without slanting, though technically correct. Jake sat
+quietly, smiling faintly, and making no protests.
+
+He got up lazily to cross-examine Chris. "Dr. Ryan, when Daniel Feldman
+was examined by the Captain of the _Navaho_ after arriving at Mars
+station, did you identify him then as having been Dr. Daniel Feldman?"
+
+She glanced at Matthews, who seemed puzzled but unconcerned. "That's
+correct," she admitted. "But--"
+
+"And you later saw him delivered to the surface of Mars. Is that also
+correct?" When she assented, Jake hesitated. Then he frowned. "What did
+you do then? Did you report him or send anyone to look after him or
+anything like that?"
+
+"Certainly not," she answered. "He was no--"
+
+"You did absolutely nothing about him after you identified him and saw
+him delivered here? You're quite sure of that?"
+
+"I did nothing."
+
+Jake stood quietly for a moment, then shrugged. "No more questions."
+
+Matthews finished things in a plea for the salvation of all humanity
+from the danger of such men as Daniel Feldman. He was looking smug, as
+was Chris.
+
+Wilson turned to Jake. "Has the defense anything to say?"
+
+"A few things, Your Honor." Jake stood up, suddenly looking certain and
+pleased. "We are happy to admit everything factual the Lobby had
+testified. Daniel Feldman performed a surgical operation on Harriet Lynn
+in the village of Einstein. But when has it been illegal for a member of
+the Medical profession to perform an operation, even with small chance
+of success, within an accepted area for such operation? There has been
+no evidence adduced that any crime or act of even unethical conduct was
+committed."
+
+That brought Chris and Matthews to their feet. Wilson was relaxed again,
+looking as if he'd swallowed a whole cage of canaries. He banged his
+gavel down.
+
+Jake picked up two ragged and dog-eared volumes from his table. "Case of
+Harding vs. Southport, 2043, establishes that a Lobby is responsible for
+any member on Mars. It is also responsible for informing the authorities
+of any criminal conduct on the part of its members or any former member
+known to it. Failure to report shall be considered an admission that the
+Lobby recognizes the member as one in good standing and accepts
+responsibility for that member's conduct.
+
+"At the time Daniel Feldman arrived, Dr. Christina Ryan was the highest
+appointed representative of Medical Lobby in Southport, with full
+authority. She identified Feldman as having been a doctor, without
+stipulating any change in status. She made no further report to any
+authority concerning Daniel Feldman's presence here. It seems obvious
+that Medical Lobby at Southport thereby accepted Daniel Feldman as a
+doctor in good standing for whose conduct the Lobby accepted full
+responsibility."
+
+Wilson studied the book Jake held out, and nodded. "Seems pretty
+clear-cut to me," he agreed, passing the book on to Matthews. "There's
+still the charge that Dr. Feldman operated outside a hospital."
+
+"No reason he shouldn't," Jake said. He handed over the other volume.
+"This is the charter for Medical Lobby on Mars. Medical Lobby agrees to
+perform all necessary surgical and medical services for the planet,
+though at the signing of this charter there was no hospital on Mars.
+Necessarily, Medical Lobby agreed to perform surgery outside of any
+hospital, then. But to make it plainer, there's a later paragraph--page
+181--that defines each hospital zone as extending not less than three
+nor more than one hundred miles. Einstein is about one hundred and ten
+miles from the nearest hospital at Southport, so Einstein comes under
+the original charter provisions. Dr. Feldman was forced by charter
+provisions to protect the good name of his Lobby by undertaking any
+necessary surgery in Einstein."
+
+He waited until Matthews had scanned that book, then took it back and
+began packing a big bag. Doc saw that his possessions and the microscope
+were already in the bag. The old man paid no attention to the arguments
+of Matthews before the bench.
+
+Abruptly Wilson pounded his gavel. "This court finds that Dr. Daniel
+Feldman is qualified to practice all the arts and skills of the medical
+profession on Mars and that he acted ethically in the performance of his
+duties in the case of the deceased Harriet Lynn," he ruled. "The costs
+of the case shall be billed to Medical Lobby of Southport."
+
+He took off his robe and moved rapidly toward his private quarters.
+Court was closed.
+
+Doc got up shakily, not daring to believe fully what he had heard. He
+started toward Jake, trying to avoid bumping into Chris. But she would
+not be avoided. She stood in front of him, screaming accusations and
+threats that reminded him of the only fight they'd ever had during their
+brief marriage.
+
+When she ran down, he finally met her eyes. "You're a helluva doctor,"
+he told her harshly. "You spend all your time fighting me when there's a
+plague out there that may be worse than any disease we've ever known.
+Take a look at what lies under the black specks on your corpses. You'll
+find the first Martian disease. And maybe if you begin working on that
+now, you can learn to be a real doctor in time to do something about it.
+But I doubt it."
+
+She fell back from him then. "Research! You've been doing unauthorized
+research!"
+
+"Prove it," he suggested. "But you'd be a lot smarter to try some
+yourself, and to hell with your precious rules."
+
+He followed Jake out to the tractor.
+
+Surprisingly, the old man was sweating now. He shook his head at Doc's
+look, and his grin was uncertain.
+
+"Matthews is an incompetent," he said. "They could have had you, Doc.
+That charter is so sloppy a man can prove anything by it, and building a
+hospital here did bring in Earth rules. Wilson went out on a limb in
+letting you go. But I guess we got away with it. Let's get out of here."
+
+Doc climbed into the tractor more soberly. They had escaped this time.
+But there would be another time, and he was pretty sure that would be
+Chris' round. He had no intention of giving up his research.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+Plague
+
+
+Dr. Feldman leaned back from his microscope and lighted another bracky
+weed. He glanced about the room and sighed wearily. Maybe he'd been
+better off when he had no friends and couldn't risk the safety of others
+in an effort to do research that was the highest crime on two worlds.
+
+The evidence of his work was hidden thirty feet beyond his former
+laboratory in Jake's village, with a tunnel that led from another
+root-cellar. The theory was the old one that the best place to avoid
+discovery was where you had already been discovered. If their spies had
+identified his former hangout, they'd never expect to have him set up
+research nearby. It was a nice theory, but he wasn't sure of it.
+
+Jake looked up from a cot where he'd been watching the improvised
+culture incubator. "Stop tearing yourself to bits, Doc. We know the
+danger and we're still darned glad to have you here working on this."
+
+"I'm trying to put myself together into a whole man," Doc told him. "But
+I seem to come out wholly a fool."
+
+"Yeah, sure. Sometimes it takes a fool to get things done; wise men wait
+too long for the right time. How's the bug hunt?"
+
+Doc grunted in disgust and swung back to the microscope. Then he gave up
+as his tired eyes refused to focus. "Why don't you people revolt?"
+
+"They tried it twice. But they were just a bunch of pariahs shipped here
+to live in peonage. They couldn't do much. The first time Earth cut off
+shipments and starved them. Next time the villages had the answer to
+that but the cities had to fight for Earth or starve, so they whipped
+us. And there's always the threat that Earth could send over unmanned
+war rockets loaded with fissionables."
+
+"So it's hopeless?"
+
+"So nothing! The Lobbies are poisoning themselves, like cutting off
+Medical service until they cut themselves out of a job. It's just a
+matter of time. Go back to the bugs, Doc."
+
+Doc sighed and reached for his notes. "I wish I knew more Martian
+history. I've been wondering whether this bug may not have been what
+killed off the old Martians. Something had to do it, the way they
+disappeared. I wish I knew enough to make an investigation of those
+ruins out there."
+
+"Durwood!" Jake had propped himself on an elbow, staring at Doc in
+surprise.
+
+Doc scowled. "Clive Durwood, you mean? The archeologist who dug up what
+little we know about the ruins?"
+
+"Yeah, before he went back to Earth and started living off his lectures.
+He came here again three years ago and dropped dead in Edison on the way
+to some other ruins. Heart failure, they called it, though it was more
+like the two old farmers who ran themselves to death last month. I saw
+him when they buried him. His face looked funny, and I think he had
+those little specks, though I may remember wrong." He grimaced. "Mars is
+tough, Doc; it has to be. Some of the plant seeds Durwood found in the
+ruins grew! Maybe your bugs waited a million years till we came along."
+
+"What about the farmers? Did they meet Durwood?"
+
+Jake nodded. "Must have. He lived in their village most of the time."
+
+Doc went through his notes. He'd asked for reports on all deaths, and he
+finally found the account. The two old men had been nervous and fidgety
+for weeks. They were twins, living by themselves, and nobody paid much
+attention. Then one morning both were seen running wildly in circles.
+The village managed to tie them up, but they died of exhaustion shortly
+after.
+
+It wasn't a pretty picture. The disease might have an incubation period
+of nearly fifteen years, judging by the length of time it had taken to
+hit Durwood. It must spread from person to person during an early
+contagious stage, leaving widening circles behind Durwood and those
+first infected. When matured, any other sickness would set it off, with
+few symptoms of its own. But without help, it still killed its victims,
+apparently driving them madly toward frenzied physical effort.
+
+He studied the culture on a slide again. He'd tried Koch's method to get
+a pure strain, splattering the bugs onto a native starchy root and
+plucking off individual colonies. About twenty specimens had been
+treated with every chemical he could find. So far he'd found a few
+things that seemed to stop their growth, but nothing that killed them,
+except stuff far too harsh to use in living tissue.
+
+He had nearly forty cases of deaths that showed symptoms now, and he
+went back over them, looking for anything in common that went back ten
+to twenty years before death. There were no rashes nor blisters. A few
+had had apparent colds, but such were too common to mean anything.
+
+Only one thing appeared, about fourteen years before their deaths. The
+people interviewed about the victims might be vague about most things,
+but they remembered the time when "Jim had the jumping headache."
+
+"Jake," Doc called, "what's jumping headache? Most people seem to have
+it some time or other, but I haven't run across a case of it."
+
+"Sure you have, Doc. Mamie Brander's little girl a few weeks ago. Feels
+like your pulse is going to rip your skull off, right here. Can't eat
+because chewing drives you crazy. Back of your head, neck and shoulders
+swell up for about a week. Then it goes away."
+
+Then it goes away--for fourteen years, until it comes back to kill!
+
+Doc stared at his charts in sudden horror. It was a new disease--thought
+to be some virus, but not considered dangerous. Selznik's migraine,
+according to medical usage; you treated it with hot pads and anodyne,
+and it went away easily enough.
+
+He'd seen hundreds of such cases on Earth. There must be millions who
+had been hit by it. The patent-medicine branch of the Lobby had even
+brought out something called Nograine to use for self-treatment.
+
+"Something important?" Jake wanted to know.
+
+Feldman nodded. "How much weight do you swing in other villages, Jake?"
+
+"People sort of do me favors when I ask," Jake admitted. "Like swiping
+those medical journals from Northport for you, or like Molly Badger
+getting that job as maid to spy on Chris Ryan. Name it and I'll do my
+best."
+
+Doc had a vague idea of village politics, but he had more important
+things to think of. Most of his foul mood had disappeared with the clue
+he'd stumbled on, and his chief worry now was to clinch the facts.
+
+Feldman considered the problem. "I want a report on every case of
+jumping headache in every village--who had it, when, and how old they
+were. This place first, but every village you can reach. And I'll want
+someone to take a letter to Chris Ryan."
+
+Jake frowned at that, but went out to issue instructions. Doc sat down
+at a battered old typewriter. Writing Chris might do no good, but some
+warning had to be gotten through to Earth, where the vast resources of
+Medical Lobby could be thrown into the task of finding the cause and
+cure of the disease. The connection with Selznik's migraine had to be
+reported. If something could blast the Lobby into action, it wouldn't
+matter quite so much what they did to him. He wasn't foolish enough to
+expect gratitude from them, but he was getting used to the idea that his
+days were numbered. The plague was more important than what happened to
+him.
+
+The letter had been dispatched by the time Jake returned. "Here's the
+dope for this village. Everybody accounted for except you."
+
+"Never had it, Jake." Feldman went down the list. "Most of it fourteen
+years ago. That fits. About the only exceptions are the kids who seem to
+get it between the ages of two and three. Eighty-seven out of
+ninety-one!"
+
+He stared at the figures sickly. Most of the village not only had the
+plague but must be near the end of the incubation period. It looked as
+if most of the village would be dead before another year passed.
+
+"Bad?" Jake asked.
+
+"The first symptom of Martian fever."
+
+The old man whistled, the lines around his eyes tightening. "Must be
+me," he decided. "I'm the guy who must have brought it here, then. I
+used to spend a lot of time with Durwood at his diggings!"
+
+There was a constant commotion all that day and the next as runners went
+out to the villages and came back with reports. The variation from
+village to village was only slight. Most of Mars seemed to have advanced
+cases of Martian fever.
+
+Without animals for investigation and study, real research was
+difficult. Doc also needed an electron microscope. He was reasonably
+sure that the disease must travel through the nerves, but he had found
+no proof beyond the hard lump at the base of the neck. There it was a
+fair-sized organism. Elsewhere he could find nothing, until the black
+specks developed.
+
+His eyes ached from trying to see more than was visible in the
+microscope. The tantalizing suggestions of filaments around the nuclei
+might be the form of plague that was contagious. They might even be the
+true form of the bug, with the bigger cell only a transition stage.
+There were a number of diseases that involved complicated changes in the
+organisms that caused them. But he couldn't be sure.
+
+He finally buried his head in his hands, trying to do by pure thought
+what he couldn't do in any other way. And even there, he lacked
+training. He was a doctor, not a xenobiologist. Research training had
+been taboo in school, except for a favored few.
+
+The reports continued to come in, confirming the danger. They seemed to
+have the worst plague on their hands in all human history; and nobody
+who could do anything about it even knew of it.
+
+"Molly reports that your letter got some results," Jake reported. "Chris
+Ryan brought home one of the electron microscopes and a bunch of
+equipment from the hospital pathology room. Think she'll get anywhere?"
+
+Doc doubted it. Damn it, he hadn't meant for her to try it, though she
+might have authority for routine experiments. But it was like her to
+refuse to pass on the word without trying to prove her own suspicion of
+him first.
+
+He tried to comfort himself with the fact that some men were immune, or
+seemed so; about three out of a hundred showed no signs. If that
+immunity was hereditary, it might save the race. If not....
+
+Jake came in at twilight with a grim face. "More news from Molly. The
+Lobby is starting out to comb every village with a fault-finder,
+starting here. And this hole will show up like a sore thumb. Better
+start packing. We gotta be out of here in less than an hour!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+Fool
+
+
+Three days later, Doc saw his first runner.
+
+The tractor was churning through the sand just before sundown, heading
+toward another one-night stand at a new village. Lou was driving, while
+Doc and Jake brooded silently in the back, paying no attention to the
+colors that were blazoned over the dunes. The cat-and-mouse game was
+getting to Doc. There was no real assurance that the village they were
+approaching might not be the target the Lobby had chosen for the next
+investigation.
+
+Lou braked the tractor to a sudden halt, and pointed.
+
+A figure was running frantically over one of the low dunes with the
+little red sun behind him. He seemed headed toward them, but as he drew
+nearer they could see that he had no definite direction. He simply ran,
+pumping his legs frantically as if all the devils of hell were after
+him. His body swayed from side to side in exhaustion, but his arms and
+legs pumped on.
+
+"Stop him!" Jake ordered, and Lou swung the tractor. It halted squarely
+in the runner's path, and the figure struck against it and toppled.
+
+The legs went on pumping, digging into the dirt and gravel, but the man
+was too far gone to rise. Jake and Lou shoved him through the doors into
+the tractor and Doc yanked off his aspirator.
+
+The man was giving vent to a kind of ululating cry, weakened now almost
+to a whine that rose and fell with the motion of his legs. Sweat had
+once streaked his haggard face, but it was dry and blanched to a pasty
+gray.
+
+Doc injected enough narcotic to quiet a maddened bull. It had no effect,
+except to upset the rhythm of the arms and legs. It took five more
+minutes for the man to die.
+
+The specks were larger this time--the size of periods in twelve-point
+type. The lump at the base of the skull was as big as a small hen's egg.
+
+"From Edison, like the others so far. Jack Kooley," Jake answered Doc's
+question. "Durwood spent a lot of time here on his first expedition, so
+it's getting the worst of it."
+
+Doc pulled the aspirator mask back over the man's face and they carried
+him out and laid him on a low dune. They couldn't risk returning the
+corpse to its people.
+
+This was only the primary circle of infection, direct from Durwood. The
+second circle could be ten times as large, as the infection spread from
+one to a few to many. So far it was localized. But it wouldn't stay that
+way.
+
+Doc climbed slowly out of the tractor, lugging his small supplies of
+equipment, while Jake made arrangements for them to spend the night in a
+deserted house. But the figure of the runner and his own failures to
+find more about the disease kept haunting Doc. He began setting up his
+equipment grimly.
+
+"Better get some sleep," Jake suggested. "You're a mite more tired than
+you think. Anyhow, I thought you told me you couldn't do any more with
+what you've got."
+
+Feldman looked at the supplies he had spread out, and shook his head
+wearily. He'd been over every chemical and combination a dozen times,
+without results that showed in the limited magnification of the optical
+mike.
+
+He snapped the case shut and hit the rude table with the heel of his
+hand. "There are other supplies. Jake, do you have any signal to get in
+touch with Molly at the Ryan house?"
+
+"Three raps on the rear left window. I'll get Lou."
+
+"No!" Doc came to his feet, reaching for his jacket. "They're looking
+for three men now. It's safer if I go alone--and I'm the only one who
+knows what supplies are needed. With luck, I may even get the electron
+mike. Got a gun I can borrow?"
+
+Jake found one somewhere, an old revolver with a few loads. He began
+protesting, but Doc overruled him sharply. Three men could no more fight
+off the police than one, if they were spotted. He swung toward the
+tractor.
+
+"You'd better start spreading the word on everything we know. If people
+realize they're already safe or doomed it'll be better than having them
+going crazy to avoid contagion."
+
+"Most of the villages know already," Jake told him. "And damn it, get
+back here, Doc. If you can't make it, turn tail quick, and we'll think
+of something else."
+
+Southport seemed normal enough as Doc drove through its streets. The
+stereo house was open, and the little shops were brightly lighted. He
+stopped once to pull a copy of Southport's little newspaper from a
+dispenser. All was quiet on its front page, too.
+
+As usual, though, the facts were buried inside. The editorial was
+pouring too much oil on the waters in its lauding of the role of
+Medical Lobby on Mars for no apparent reason. The death notices no
+longer listed the cause of death. Medical knew something was up, at
+least, and was worried.
+
+He parked the tractor behind Chris' house and slipped to the proper
+window. Everything was seemingly quiet there. At his knock, the shade
+was drawn back, and he caught a brief glimpse of Molly looking out. A
+moment later she opened the rear lock to let him into the kitchen.
+
+"Shh. She's still up, I think. What can I do, Doc?"
+
+He tried to smile at her. "Hide me until it's safe to get into her
+laboratory. I've got to--"
+
+The inner kitchen was kicked open and Chris stood beyond it, holding a
+cocked gun in her hand.
+
+"It took longer than I expected, Dan," she said quietly. "But after your
+letter, I knew you'd swallow the bait. You bloody fool! Did you really
+believe I'd start doing research here just because of your imaginings?"
+
+He slumped slowly back against the sink. "So this is a fool's errand,
+then? There never was any equipment here?"
+
+"The equipment's here--in my office. I guessed your spies would report
+it, so it had to be here. But it won't help you now, pariah Feldman!"
+
+He came from his braced position against the sink like a spring
+uncoiling. He expected her to shoot, but hoped the surprise would ruin
+her aim. Then it was too late, and his boot hit the gun savagely,
+knocking it from her hand. Life in the villages had hardened him
+surprisingly. She was comparatively helpless in his hands. A few minutes
+later, he had her bound securely with surgical tape Molly brought him.
+She raged furiously in the chair where he'd dumped her, then gave up.
+
+"They'll get you, Daniel Feldman!" Surprisingly, there was no rage in
+her voice now. "You won't get away from us. The planet isn't big
+enough."
+
+"I got away from your trial," he reminded her. "And I got away and lived
+when you left me without a chance on the ground of the spaceport."
+
+She laughed harshly. "_You_ got away then? You fool, who do you think
+gave you the extra battery so you could live long enough to be helped at
+the spaceport? Who hired a fool like Matthews so you wouldn't get the
+death sentence you deserved? Who let you get away as an herb doctor for
+months before you set yourself up as God and a traitor to mankind
+again?"
+
+It shook him, as it was probably intended to do. How had she known about
+the extra battery? He'd always assumed that Ben had returned to give it
+to him. But in that case, Chris couldn't know of it. Then he hardened
+himself again. In the old days, she'd always had one trump card he
+couldn't beat and hadn't expected. But too much was involved for games
+now.
+
+"Any police around, Molly?" he asked.
+
+Molly came back a minute later to report that everything looked clear
+and to show him where the equipment had been set up in Chris' office. It
+was all there, including the electron mike--a beautiful little portable
+model. There was even a small incubator with its own heat source into
+which he immediately transferred the little bottles he'd been keeping
+warm against his skin. Most of the equipment had never been unpacked,
+which made loading it onto his tractor ridiculously easy.
+
+"Better come with me now, Molly," he suggested at last. Then he turned
+to Chris, who was watching him with almost no expression. "You can
+wriggle your chair to the phone in half an hour, I guess. Knock the
+phone off and yell for help. It's better than you deserve, unless you
+really did leave me that battery."
+
+"You won't get away with it," she told him again, calmly this time.
+
+"No," he admitted. "Probably not. But maybe the human race will, if I
+have time to find an answer to the plague you won't see under your nose.
+But you won't get away with it, either. In the long run, your kind never
+do."
+
+Molly was sniffling as they drove away. It had probably been the best
+life she'd known, Doc supposed. Chris could be kind to menials. But now
+Molly's work was done, and she'd have to disappear into the villages. He
+let her off at the first village and drove on alone. He was itching to
+get to the microscope now, hardly able to wait through the long journey
+back to Jake. His impatience grew with each mile.
+
+Finally he gave up. He swung the tractor into a small gulley between
+sand dunes, left the motor idling and pulled down the shades the
+villagers used for blackout traveling. There was power enough for the
+mike here, and the cab was big enough for what he had to do.
+
+He mounted the mike on the tractor seat and began laying out the
+collection of smears and cultures he had brought. It had been years
+since he'd made a film for the electron mike, but he found it all came
+back to him as he worked.
+
+His hands were sweating with tension as he inserted the first film into
+the chamber. He had the magnetic "lenses" set for twenty thousand power,
+but a quick glance showed it was too weak. He raised the power to fifty
+thousand.
+
+The filaments were there, clear and distinct.
+
+He turned on the little tape recorder that had been part of Chris'
+equipment and set the microphone where he could dictate into it without
+stopping to make clumsy notes. He readjusted the focus carefully,
+carrying on a running commentary.
+
+Then he gasped. Each of the little filaments carried three tiny darker
+sections; each was a cell, complete in itself, with the typical Martian
+triple nucleus.
+
+He put a film with a tiny section of the nerve tissue from a corpse into
+the chamber next, and again a quick glance at the screen was enough. The
+filaments were there, thickly crowded among nerve cells. They _did_
+travel along the nerves to reach the base of the brain before the larger
+lump could form.
+
+A specimen from one of the black specks was even more interesting. The
+filaments were there, but some were changed or changing into tiny, round
+cells, also with the triple dark spots of nuclei. Those must be the
+final form that was released to infect others. Probably at first these
+multiplied directly in epithelial tissue, so that there was a rapid
+contagion of infection. Eventually, they must form the filaments that
+invaded the nerves and caused the brief bodily reaction that was
+Selznik's migraine. Then the body adapted to them and they began to
+incubate slowly, developing into the large cells he had first seen. When
+"ripe", the big cells broke apart into millions of the tiny round ones
+that went back to the nerve endings, causing the black spots and killing
+the host.
+
+He knew his enemy now, at least.
+
+He reached for the controls, increasing the magnification. He would lose
+resolution, but he might find something more at the extreme limits of
+the mike.
+
+Something wet and cold gushed into his face. He jerked back, trying to
+wipe it off, but it was already evaporating, and there was a thick,
+acrid odor in the cab. He grabbed for his aspirator, then tried to reach
+the airlock. But paralysis was already spreading through him, and he
+toppled to the floor before he could escape.
+
+When he came to, it was morning outside, and Chris was waiting inside
+the cab with two big Lobby policemen. A hypo in her hand must have been
+what revived him.
+
+She touched the electron microscope with something like affection. "The
+Lobby technicians did a good job on this, don't you think, Dan? I warned
+you, but you wouldn't listen. And now we've even got your own taped
+words to prove you were doing forbidden research. Fool!"
+
+She shook her head pityingly as the tractor began moving with two others
+toward Southport.
+
+"You and your phony diseases. A little skin disorder, Selznik's
+migraine, and a few cases of psychosis to make a new disease. Do you
+think Medical Lobby can't check on such simple things? Or didn't you
+expect us to hear of your open talk of revolt and realize you were
+planning to create some new germ to wipe out the Earth forces. Maybe
+those runners of yours were real, mass murderer!"
+
+She drew out another hypo and shoved the needle into his arm.
+Necrosynth--enough to keep him unconscious for twenty-four hours. He
+started to curse her, but the drug acted before he could complete the
+thought.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+Judgment
+
+
+Doc woke to see sunlight shining through a heavily barred window that
+must be in the official Southport jail. He waited a few minutes for his
+head to clear and then sat up; necrosynth left no hangover, at least.
+
+The sound of steps outside was followed by the squeak of a key in the
+lock. "Fifteen minutes, Judge Wilson," a voice said.
+
+"Thank you, officer." Wilson came into the cell, carrying a tray of
+breakfast and a copy of the Northport _Gazette_. He began unloading
+bracky weeds from his pocket while Doc attacked the breakfast.
+
+"They tossed the book at you, Doc," he said. "You haven't got a chance,
+and there's nothing the villages can do. Trial's set for tomorrow at
+Northport, and it's in closed session. We can't get you off this time."
+
+Doc nodded. "Thanks for coming, even if there's nothing you can do. I've
+been living on borrowed time for a year, anyhow, so I have no right to
+kick. But who's 'we'?"
+
+"The villages. I've been part of their organization for years." The old
+man sighed heavily. "You might say a revolution has been going on since
+I can remember, though most villagers don't know it. We've just been
+waiting our time. Now we've stopped waiting and the rifles will be
+coming out--rifles made in village shops. The villages are going to
+rebel, even if we're all dead of plague in a month."
+
+Doc Feldman nodded and reached for the bracky. He knew that this was
+their way of trying to make him feel his work hadn't been for nothing,
+and he was grateful for Wilson's visit. "It was a good year for me.
+Damned good. But time's running short. I'd better brief you on the
+latest on the plague."
+
+Wilson began making notes until Doc was finished. Finally he got up as
+steps sounded from the hall. "Anything else?"
+
+"Just a guess. A lot of Earth germs can't live in Mars-normal flesh;
+maybe this can't live in Earth-normal. Tell them so long for me."
+
+"So long, Doc." He shook hands briefly and was waiting at the door when
+the guard opened it.
+
+An hour later, the Lobby police took Feldman to the Northport shuttle
+rocket. They had some trouble on the way; a runner cut down the street,
+with the crowds frantically rushing out of his way. Terror was reaching
+the cities already.
+
+Doc flashed a look at Chris. "Mob hysteria. Like flying saucers and
+wriggly tops, I suppose?" he asked, before the guard could stop him.
+
+They locked his legs, but left his hands free in the rocket. He unfolded
+the paper Wilson had brought and buried his face in it. Then he swore.
+They _were_ explaining the runners as a case of mob hysteria!
+
+Northport was calmer. Apparently they had yet to have first-hand
+experience with the plague. But now nothing seemed quite real to Doc,
+even when they locked him into the big Northport jail. The whole ritual
+of the Lobbies seemed like a fantasy after the villages.
+
+It snapped back into focus, however, when they led him into the trial
+room of the Medical Lobby building. It was a smaller version of his
+trial on Earth. Fear washed in by association. The complete lack of
+humanity in the procedure was something from a half-remembered and
+horrible past.
+
+The presiding officer asked the routine question: "Is the prisoner
+represented by counsel?"
+
+Blane, the dapper little prosecutor, arose quickly. "The prisoner is a
+pariah, Sir Magistrate."
+
+"Very well. The court will accept the protective function for the
+prisoner. You may proceed."
+
+_I'll be judge, I'll be jury._ And prosecution and defense. It made for
+a lot less trouble. Of course, if Space Lobby had asserted interest, it
+would have gone to a supposedly neutral court. But as usual, Space was
+happy to leave it in the hands of Medical.
+
+The tape was played as evidence. Doc frowned. The words were his, but
+there had been a lot of editing that subtly changed the import of his
+notes.
+
+"I protest," he challenged. "It's not an accurate version."
+
+The Lobby magistrate turned a wooden face to him. "Does the prisoner
+have a different version to introduce?"
+
+"No, but--"
+
+"The evidence is accepted. One of the prisoner's six protests will be
+charged against him."
+
+Blane smiled smoothly and held up a small package. "We wish to introduce
+this drug as evidence that the prisoner is a confirmed addict, morally
+irresponsible under addiction. This is a package of so-called bracky
+weed, a vile and noxious substance found in his possession."
+
+"It has alkaloids no more harmful than nicotine," Feldman stated
+sharply.
+
+"Do you contend that you find the taste pleasing?" Blane asked.
+
+"It's bitter, but I've gotten used to it."
+
+"I've tasted it," the magistrate said. "Evidence accepted. Two
+deductions, one for irregularity of presentation."
+
+Doc shrugged and sat back. He'd tested his rights and found what he
+expected. It was hard to see now how he had ever accepted such
+procedure. Jake must be right; they'd been in power too long, and were
+making the mistake of taking the velvet glove off the iron fist and
+flailing about for the sheer pleasure of power.
+
+It dragged on, while he became a greater and greater monster on the
+record. But finally it was over, and the magistrate turned to Feldman.
+"You may present your defense."
+
+"I ask complete freedom of expression," Doc said formally.
+
+The magistrate nodded. "This is a closed court. Permission granted. The
+recording will be scrambled."
+
+The last bit ruined most of the purpose Doc had in mind. But it was too
+late to change. He could only hope that some one of the Medical men
+present would remember something of what he said.
+
+"I have nothing to say for myself," he began. "It would be useless. But
+I had to do what I did. There's a plague outside. I've studied that
+plague, and I have knowledge which must be used against it...."
+
+He sat down in three minutes. It had been useless.
+
+Blane arose, with a smile still plastered on his face. "We, of course,
+recognize the existence of a new contagion, but I believe we have
+established that this is one disseminated by the prisoner himself, and
+probably not directly contagious. There have been many cases of fanatics
+ready to destroy humanity to eliminate those they hate. Now, surely, the
+prisoner has himself left no question of his attitude. He asserts he has
+knowledge and skill greater than the entire Medical Research staff. He
+has attempted to intimidate us by threats. He is clearly psychopathic,
+and dangerously so. The prosecution rests."
+
+The guards took Doc into the anteroom, where he was supposed to hear
+nothing that went on. But their curiosity was stronger than their
+discretion, and the door remained a trifle ajar.
+
+The magistrate began the discussion. "The case seems firm enough. It's
+fortunate Dr. Ryan acted so quickly, with some of the people getting
+nervous. Perhaps it might be wise to publicize our verdict."
+
+"My thought exactly," Blane agreed. "If we show Feldman is responsible
+and that Medical is eliminating the source of the infection, it may have
+a stabilizing effect."
+
+"Let's hope so. The sentence will have to be death, of course. We can't
+let such a rebellious psychopath live. But this needs something more, it
+seems. You've prepared a recommendation, I suppose."
+
+"There was the case of Albrecht Delier," Blane suggested. "Something
+like that should have good publicity impact."
+
+It struck Doc that they sounded as if they believed themselves--as the
+witch-burners had believed in witches. He was sweating when the guards
+led him before the bench.
+
+The magistrate rolled a pen slowly across his fingers as his eyes raked
+Feldman. "Pariah Daniel Feldman, you have been found guilty on all
+counts. Furthermore, your guilt must be shared by that entire section of
+Mars known as the villages. Therefore the entire section shall be banned
+and forbidden any and all services of the Medical Lobby for a period of
+one year."
+
+"Sir Magistrate!" One of the members of Southport Hospital staff was on
+his feet. "Sir Magistrate, we can't cut them off completely."
+
+"We must, Dr. Harkness. I appreciate the fine humanitarian tradition of
+our Lobby which lies behind your protest, but at such a time as this the
+good of the body politic requires drastic measures. Why not see me after
+court, and we can discuss it then?"
+
+He turned back to Feldman, and his face was severe.
+
+"The same education which has produced such fine young men as Dr.
+Harkness was wasted on you and perverted to endanger the whole race. No
+punishment can equal your crimes, but there is one previously invoked
+for a particularly horrible case, and it seems fitting that you should
+be the fourth so sentenced.
+
+"Daniel Feldman, you are sentenced to be taken in to space beyond
+planetary limits, together with all material used by you in the
+furtherance of your criminal acts. There you shall be placed into a
+spacesuit containing sufficient oxygen for one hour of life, and no
+more. You and your contaminated possessions shall then be released into
+space, to drift there through all eternity as a warning to other men.
+
+"This sentence shall be executed at the earliest possible moment, and
+Dr. Christina Ryan is hereby commissioned to observe such execution. And
+may God have mercy on your soul!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+Execution
+
+
+The hours of waiting were blurred for Doc. There were periods when fear
+clogged his throat and left him gasping with the need to scream and beat
+his cell walls. There were also times when it didn't seem to matter, and
+when his only thoughts were for the villages and the plague.
+
+They brought him the papers, where he was painted as a monster beside
+whom Jack the Ripper and Albrecht Delier were gentle amateurs. They were
+trying to focus all fear and resentment on him. Maybe it was working.
+There were screaming crowds outside the jail, and the noise of their
+hatred was strong enough to carry through even the atmosphere of Mars.
+But there were also signs that the Lobby was worried, as if afraid that
+some attempt might still be made to rescue him.
+
+He'd looked forward to the trip to the airport as a way of judging
+public reaction. But apparently the Lobby had no desire to test that.
+The guards led him up to the roof of the jail, where a rocket was
+waiting. The landing space was too small for one of the station
+shuttles, but a little Northport-Southport shuttle was parked there
+after what must have been a difficult set-down. The guards tested Doc's
+manacles and forced him into the shuttle.
+
+Inside, Chris was waiting, carrying an official automatic. There was
+also a young pilot, looking nervous and unhappy. He was muttering under
+his breath as the guards locked Doc's legs to a seat and left.
+
+"All right," Chris ordered. "Up ship!"
+
+"I tell you we're overweight with you. I wasn't counting on three for
+the trip," the pilot protested. "The only thing that will get this into
+orbit with the station is faith. I'm loaded with every drop of fuel
+she'll hold and it still isn't enough."
+
+"That's your problem," Chris told him firmly. "You've got your orders,
+and so have I. Up ship!"
+
+If she had her own worries about the shuttle, she didn't show it. Chris
+had never been afraid to do what she felt she should. The pilot stared
+at her doubtfully and finally turned back to his controls, still
+muttering.
+
+The shuttle lifted sluggishly, but there was no great difficulty. Doc
+could see that there was even some fuel remaining when they slipped into
+the tube at the orbital station. Chris went out, and other guards came
+in to free him.
+
+"So long, Dr. Feldman," the pilot called softly as they led him out.
+Then the guards shoved him through the airlock into the station. Fifteen
+minutes later he was locked into one of the cabins of the _Iroquois_,
+with all his possessions stacked beside him.
+
+He grinned wryly. As an honest worker on the _Navaho_ he'd been treated
+like an animal. Now, as a human fiend, he was installed in a luxury
+cabin of the finest ship of the fleet, with constant spin to give a
+feeling of weight and more room than the entire tube crew had known.
+
+He roamed the cabin until he found a little collapsible table. He set
+the electron microscope up on that and plugged it in. It seemed a shame
+that good equipment should be wasted along with his life. He wondered
+if they would really throw it out into space with him. Probably they
+would.
+
+He pushed a button on the call board over the table and asked for the
+steward. There was a long wait, as if the procedure were being checked
+with some authority, but finally he received a surly acknowledgement.
+"Steward. Whatcha want?"
+
+"How's the chance of getting some food?"
+
+"You're on first-class."
+
+They could afford it, Doc decided. He wouldn't cost them much,
+considering the distance he was going. "Bring me two complete
+dinners--one Earth-normal and one Mars-normal."
+
+"Okay, Feldman. But if you think you can suicide that way, you're wrong.
+You may be sick, but you'll be alive when they dump you."
+
+A sharp click interrupted him. "That's enough, Steward. Captain Everts
+speaking. Dr. Feldman, you have my apologies. Until you reach your
+destination, you are my passenger and entitled to every consideration of
+any other passenger except freedom of movement through the ship. I am
+always available for legitimate complaints."
+
+Feldman shook his head. He'd heard of such men. But he'd thought the
+species extinct.
+
+The steward brought his food in a thoroughly chastened manner. He
+managed to find space for it and came to attention. "Is that all--sir?"
+
+For a moment, as the smell of real steak reached him, Doc regretted the
+fact that his metabolism had been switched. Then he shrugged. A little
+wouldn't hurt him, though there was no proper nourishment in it. He
+squeezed some of the gravy and bits of meat into one of his bottles,
+sticking to his purpose; then he fell to on the rest. But after a few
+bites, it was queerly unsatisfactory. The seemingly unappealing
+Mars-normal ragout suited his current tastes better, after all.
+
+Once the steward had cleared away the dishes, Doc went to work. It was
+better than wasting his time in dread. He might even be able to leave
+some notes behind.
+
+A gong sounded, and a red light warned him that acceleration was due. He
+finished with his bottles, put them into the incubator, and piled into
+his bunk, swallowing one of the tablets of morphetal the ship furnished.
+
+Acceleration had ended, and a simple breakfast was waiting when he
+awoke. There was also a red flashing light over the call board. He
+flipped the switch while reaching for the coffee.
+
+"Captain Everts," the speaker said. "May I join you in your cabin?"
+
+"Come ahead," Feldman invited. He cut off the switch and glanced at the
+clock on the wall. There were less than eleven hours left to him.
+
+Everts was a trim man of forty, erect but not rigid. There was neither
+friendliness nor hostility in his glance. His words were courteous as
+Doc motioned toward the tray of breakfast. "I've already eaten, thank
+you."
+
+He accepted a chair. His voice was apologetic when he began. "This is a
+personal matter which I perhaps have no right to bring up. But my wife
+is greatly worried about this plague. I violate no confidence in telling
+you there is considerable unease, even on Earth, according to messages I
+have received. The ship physician believes Mrs. Everts may have the
+plague, but isn't sure of the symptoms. I understand you are quite
+expert."
+
+Doc wondered about the physician. Apparently there was another man who
+placed his patients above anything else, though he was probably
+meticulous about obeying all actual rules. There was no law against
+listening to a pariah, at least.
+
+"When did she have Selznik's migraine?" he asked.
+
+"About thirteen years ago. We went through it together, shortly after
+having our metabolism switched during the food shortage of '88."
+
+Doc felt carefully at the base of the Captain's skull; the swelling was
+there. He asked a few questions, but there could be no doubt.
+
+"Both of you must have it, Captain, though it won't mature for another
+year. I'm sorry."
+
+"There's no hope, then?"
+
+Doc studied the man. But Everts wasn't the sort to dicker even for his
+life. "Nothing that I've found, Captain. I have a clue, but I'm still
+working on it. Perhaps if I could leave a few notes for your
+physician--"
+
+It was Everts' turn to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Dr. Feldman. I have
+orders to burn out your cabin when you leave. But thank you." He got to
+his feet and left as quietly and erectly as he had entered.
+
+Doc tore up his notes bitterly. He paced his cabin slowly, reading out
+the hours while his eyes lingered on the little bottle of cultures. At
+times the fear grew in him, but he mastered it. There was half an hour
+left when he began opening the little bottles and making his films.
+
+He was still not finished when steps echoed down the hall, but he was
+reasonably sure of his results. The bug could not grow in Earth-normal
+tissue.
+
+Three men entered the room. One of them, dressed in a spacesuit, held
+out another suit to him. The other two began gathering up everything in
+the cabin and stowing it neatly into a sack designed to protect freight
+for a limited time in a vacuum.
+
+Doc forced his hands to steadiness with foolish pride and began climbing
+into the suit. He reached for the helmet, but the man shook his head,
+pointing to the oxygen gauge. There would be exactly one hour's supply
+of oxygen when he was thrown out and it still lacked five minutes of the
+deadline.
+
+They marched him down the hallway, to meet Everts coming toward them.
+There were still three minutes left when they reached the airlock, with
+its inner door already open. The spacesuited man climbed into it and
+began strapping down so that the rush of air would not sweep him outward
+when the other seal was released.
+
+Doc had saved one bracky weed. Now he raised it to his lips, fumbling
+for a light.
+
+Everts stepped forward and flipped a lighter. Doc inhaled deeply. Fear
+was thick in every muscle, and he needed the smoke desperately. Then he
+caught himself.
+
+"Better change your metabolism back to Earth-normal, Captain Everts," he
+said, and his voice was so normal that he hardly recognized it.
+
+Everts' eyes widened briefly. The man bowed faintly. "Thank you, Dr.
+Feldman."
+
+It was ridiculous, impossible, and yet there was a curious relief at the
+formality of it. It was like something from a play, too unreal to affect
+his life.
+
+Everts nodded to the man holding the helmet. Doc dropped his bracky weed
+and felt the helmet snap down. A hiss of oxygen reached him and the suit
+ballooned out. There was no gravity; the two men handed him up easily to
+the one in the airlock while the inner seal began to close.
+
+There was still ten seconds to go, according to the big chronometer that
+had been installed in the lock. The spaceman used it in tying the sack
+of possessions firmly to Doc's suit.
+
+A red light went on. The man caught Doc and held him against the outer
+seal. The red light blinked. Four seconds ... three ... two....
+
+There was a sudden heavy thudding sound, and the _Iroquois_ seemed to
+jerk sideways slightly. The spaceman's face swung around in surprise.
+
+The red light blinked and stayed on. Zero!
+
+The outer seal snapped open and the spaceman heaved. Air exploded
+outwards, and Doc went with it. He was alone in space, gliding away from
+the ship, with oxygen hissing softly through the valve and ticking away
+his life.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+Convert
+
+
+Feldman fought for control of himself, forced himself to think, to hold
+onto his sanity. It was sheer stupidity, since nothing could have been
+more merciful than to lose this reality. But the will to be himself was
+stronger than logic. And bit by bit, he forced the fear and horror away
+from him until he could examine his situation.
+
+He was spinning slowly, so that stars ahead of him seemed to crawl
+across his view. The ship was retreating from him already hundreds of
+yards away. Mars was a shrunken pill far away.
+
+Then something blinked to one side. He turned his head to stare.
+
+A little ship was less than three hundred yards away. He recognized it
+as a life raft. Now his spin brought him around to face it, and he saw
+it was parallelling his course. The ejection of the life raft must have
+caused the thump he'd heard before he was cast adrift.
+
+It meant someone was trying to save him. It meant _life_!
+
+He flailed his arms and beat his legs together, senselessly trying to
+force himself closer, while trying to guess who could have taken the
+chance. No one he could think of could have booked passage on the
+_Iroquois_. There wasn't that much free money in the villages.
+
+Something flashed a hot blue, and the little ship leaped forward.
+Whoever was handling it knew nothing about piloting. It picked up too
+much speed at too great an angle.
+
+Again blue spurts came, but this time matters were even worse. Then
+there was a long wait before a third try was made. He estimated the
+course. It would miss him by a good hundred feet, but it was probably
+the best the amateur pilot could do. The ship drifted closer, but to one
+side. It would soon pass him completely.
+
+A spacesuited figure suddenly appeared in the tiny airlock, holding a
+coil of rope. The rope shot out, well thrown. But it was too short. It
+would pass within ten feet--and might as well have been ten miles for
+all the good it would do him.
+
+Every film he had seen on space seemed to form a mad jumble in his mind,
+but he seized on the first idea he could remember. He inhaled deeply and
+yanked the oxygen tank free. An automatic seal on the suit cut off the
+connection. He aimed the hissing bottle, fumbling for the manual valve.
+
+It almost worked. It kicked him toward the rope slightly, but most of
+the energy was wasted in setting him into a wilder spin. He blinked,
+trying to spot the rope. It was within five feet now.
+
+Again he waited, until he seemed to be in position. This time he threw
+the bottle away from it. It added spin to his vertical axis, but the
+rope came into view within arm's reach.
+
+He grasped it, just as his lungs seemed about to burst. He couldn't hold
+on long enough to tie the rope....
+
+His lungs gave up suddenly, collapsing and then sucking in greedily.
+Clean air rushed in, letting his head clear. He'd forgotten that the
+inflated suit held enough oxygen for several minutes.
+
+His body struck the edge of the airlock and a hand jerked him inside.
+The outer seal was slammed shut and locked, and there was a hiss of air
+entering.
+
+He threw back his helmet just as Chris Ryan jerked hers off.
+
+Her voice shook almost hysterically. "Thank God. Dan, I almost gave up!"
+
+"I liked the air out there better," he told her bitterly. "If you'll
+open the lock again, I'll leave. Or am I supposed to believe this is
+rescue and that you came along just to save me?"
+
+"I came along to see you killed, as you know very well. Saving you
+wasn't in my orders."
+
+He grunted and reached for the handle that would release the outer lock.
+"Better get back inside if you don't want to blow out with me."
+
+"It's up to you, Dan," she told him, and there was all the sincerity in
+the world in her blue eyes. "I'm on your side now."
+
+He began counting on his fingers. "Let's see. The spare battery, the
+delay in arresting me, the choice of Matthews--"
+
+"It was all true." Anger began to grow in her eyes. "Dan Feldman, you
+get inside this raft! If you don't care about me, you might consider the
+people dying of the plague who need you!"
+
+She'd played her trump, and it took the round. He followed her.
+
+"All right," he said grudgingly. "Spill your story."
+
+She held out a copy of a space radiogram, addressed to Mrs. D. E.
+Everts, and signed by one of the best doctors on the Lobby Board of
+Directors.
+
+     Regret confirm diagnosis. Topsecret. Repeat topsecret.
+     Martian fever incubates fourteen years, believed highly
+     fatal. No cure, research beginning immediately. Penalty
+     violation topsecret, death all concerned.
+
+"Mrs. Everts rates a topsecret break?" Doc commented dryly. "Come off
+it, Chris!"
+
+"She's the daughter of Elmers of Space Lobby!" Chris answered. She
+pointed to the message, underlining words with her finger. "_Fourteen
+years._ You couldn't have caused it. _Highly fatal._ And people are
+being told it's only a skin disease. _Research beginning._ But you've
+already done most of the research. I can see that now. I can see a lot
+of things."
+
+"You've got me beat then," he said. "I can't see how such a reformed
+young noblewoman calmly walked over and stole a life raft. I can't see
+how your brilliant mind concocted this whole scheme in almost no time.
+And to be honest, I can't even see why Medical Lobby decided to save me
+at the last minute and sent you to do the job. You didn't have to spy
+out knowledge from me. I've been trying all along to get it to your
+Research division."
+
+She sighed and dropped onto a little seat.
+
+"I can't prove my motives. You'll just have to believe me. But it wasn't
+hard to do what I've done. That shuttle pilot was found in a routine
+check, stowed away on the life raft. I was with Captain Everts when he
+was found, so I discovered how to get into the raft. And I heard his
+whole confession. He wasn't the real pilot. He'd come from the villages
+to save you. The whole scheme was his. I just used it, hoping I could
+reach you."
+
+As always her story had a convincing element she shouldn't have known.
+The pilot's farewell, addressing him as Dr. Feldman, had been too low
+for her to hear, but it was something that fitted her story. It was
+probably a deliberate clue to give him hope, to assure him the villages
+were still trying. It shook his confidence.
+
+"And your motive--your real motive?" he insisted.
+
+She swore at him, then began ripping off the spacesuit. She turned her
+back, pulling a thin blouse down from her neck. He stared, then reached
+out to touch the lump there.
+
+"So you've had Selznik's migraine and know you're carrying plague. And
+you've decided your precious Lobby won't save you?"
+
+She dropped her eyes, then raised them to meet his defiantly. "I'm not
+just scared and selfish. Dad caught it, too, and it must be close to the
+time for him. He switched to Mars-normal when he was a liaison agent and
+never changed back. Dan, are we all going to have to die? Can't you save
+him?"
+
+Feldman was out of his suit and at the control panel. There was a manual
+lever, which Chris must have used before. It might work out here where
+there was room to maneuver and nothing to hit. But trying to make a
+landing was going to be different.
+
+"Dan?" she repeated.
+
+He shrugged. "I don't know. They've started research too late and
+they'll be under so much pressure that the real brains won't have a
+chance. The topsecret stuff looks bad for research. Maybe there's a
+cure. It works in culture bottles, but it may fail in person. When I'm
+convinced I'm safe with you, I may tell you about it."
+
+"Oh." Her voice was low. Then she sighed. "I suppose I can understand
+why you hate me, Dan."
+
+"I don't hate you. I'm too mixed up. Tomorrow maybe, but not now. Shut
+up and let me see if I can figure out how to land this thing."
+
+He found that the fuel tanks were nearly full, but that still didn't
+leave much margin. Mars must have been notified by Everts and be ready
+to pick the raft up. He had to reach the wastelands away from any of the
+shuttle ports. They had no aspirators, however, and they couldn't cover
+much territory in the spacesuits they would have to use. It meant he'd
+have to land close to a village where he was known.
+
+He jockeyed the ship around by trial and error, studying the manual that
+was lying prominently on the control panel. According to the booklet,
+the ship was simple to operate. It was self-leveling in an atmosphere,
+and automatic flare computers were supposed to make it possible for an
+amateur to judge the rate of descent near the surface. It looked
+reassuring--and was probably written with that in mind.
+
+Finally he reached for the control, hoping he'd figured his landing
+orbit reasonably well by simple logic. He smoothed it out in the
+following hours as he watched the markings on Mars. When they were near
+turnover point, he began cranking the little gyroscope to swing the
+ship. It saved fuel to turn without power, and he wasn't sure he could
+have turned accurately by blasting.
+
+He was gaining some proficiency, however, he felt. But now he had to
+waste fuel and ruin his orbit again. There was no way to practice
+maneuvering without actually doing so.
+
+In the end, he compromised, leaving a small margin for a bad landing
+that would require a second attempt, but with less practice than he
+wanted.
+
+He had located Jake's village through the little telescope when he
+finally reached for the main blast control. The thin haze of Mars'
+atmosphere came rushing up, while the blast lashed out. Then they were
+in the outer fringes of the sky and the blast was beginning to show a
+corona that ruined visibility.
+
+He turned to the flare computer and back to what he could see through
+the quartz viewport. He was going to land about half a mile from the
+village, as nearly as he could judge.
+
+The computer seemed to work as it should. The speed was within
+acceptable limits. He gave up trying to see the ground and was forced to
+trust the machinery designed for amateur pilots. The flare bloomed, and
+he yanked down on the little lever.
+
+It could have been worse. They hit the ground, bounced twice, and turned
+over. The ship was a mess when Feldman freed himself from the elastic
+straps of the seat. Chris had shrieked as they hit, but she was
+unbuckling herself now.
+
+He threw her her spacesuit and one of the emergency bottles of oxygen
+from the rack. "Hurry up with that. We've sprung a leak and the
+pressure's dropping."
+
+They were halfway to the village when a dozen tractors came racing up
+and Jake piled out of the lead one to drag the two in with him.
+
+"Heard about it from the broadcasts and figured you might land around
+here. Good to see you, Doc." He started the tractor off at full speed,
+back to the wastelands, while Doc stared at the armed men who were
+riding the tractors.
+
+Jake caught his look and nodded. "You're in enemy territory, Doc.
+There's a war going on!"
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+War
+
+
+Sometimes it seemed to Doc that war was nothing but an endurance race to
+see how many times they could run before they were bombed. He was just
+beginning to drop off to sleep after a long trip for the sixth
+consecutive day when the little alarm shrilled. He sighed and shook
+Chris awake.
+
+"Again?" she protested. But she got up and began helping him pack.
+
+Jake came in, his eyes weary, pulling on the old jacket with the big
+star on its sleeve. Doc hadn't been too surprised to learn that Jake was
+the actual leader of the rebels. "Shuttles spotted taking off this way.
+And I still can't find where the leak is. They haven't missed our
+location once this week. Here, give me that."
+
+He took the electron mike that had been among Doc's' possessions, but
+Chris recaptured it. "I can manage," she told him, and headed out for
+the tractor where Lou was waiting.
+
+Doc scowled after her. He and Jake had been watching her. She was too
+useful to Doc's research to be turned away, but they didn't trust her
+yet. So far, however, they had found nothing wrong with her conduct.
+Still....
+
+He swung suddenly into Jake's tractor. "Just remembered something. How'd
+they find me that time I stopped in the tractor to use the mike? I was
+pretty well hidden, and no tracks last in the sand long enough for them
+to have followed. But they were there when I came to. Somehow, they must
+have put a radio tracer on me."
+
+Jake waited while they lighted up, his eyes suddenly bright. "You mean
+something you got from her house was bugged? It figures."
+
+"And I've still got all the stuff. Now they find wherever we set up
+headquarters, though they've always managed to miss my laboratory, even
+when they've hit the troops around us. Jake, I think it's the
+microscope." Doc managed to push enough junk off one of the seats to
+make a cramped bed, and stretched out. "Sure, we figured they sent her
+because they want to keep tabs on what I discover. They've finally
+gotten scared of the plague, and she's the perfect Judas goat. But they
+have to have some way to get in touch with her. I'll bet there's a
+tracer in the mike and a switch so she can modulate it or key it to send
+out Morse."
+
+"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Well, she does her own dirty work. I might get to
+like her if she was on our side. Okay, Doc. If they've put things into
+the mike, I've got a boy who'll find and fix it so she won't guess it's
+been touched."
+
+Doc relaxed. For the moment, there would be no power in the instrument,
+nor any excuse for her to use it. But she must have handled some secret
+arrangement during the work periods. She used the mike more than he did.
+The switch could be camouflaged easily enough. If anyone detected the
+signal, they'd probably only think it was some leak in the electrical
+circuit.
+
+Far away, the shuttle rockets had appeared as tiny dots in the sky. They
+were standing on their tails a second later, just off the ground,
+letting the full force of their blasts bake the area where headquarters
+had been.
+
+Jake watched grimly, driving by something close to instinct. Then he
+looked back. "Know anything about a Dr. Harkness?"
+
+"Not much, except that he protested sealing off the villages. Why?"
+
+"He and five other doctors were picked up, trying to get through to us.
+Claimed they wanted to give us medical help. We can use them, God knows.
+I guess I'll have to chance it."
+
+They stopped at a halfway village and hid the tractors before looking
+for a place to rest. Doc found Chris curled up asleep against the
+microscope. He had a hard time getting her to leave it in the tractor,
+but she was too genuinely tired to put up any real argument.
+
+Jake reported in the morning before they set out again. "You were right,
+Doc. It was a nice job of work. Must have taken the best guys in
+Southport to hide the circuit so well. But it's safe now. It just makes
+a kind of meaningless static nobody can trace. Maybe we can get you a
+permanent lab now."
+
+Doc debated again having Chris left behind and decided against it. The
+Lobby was determined to let him find a cure for them if he could. That
+meant Chris would work herself to exhaustion trying to help. Let her
+think she was doing it for the Lobby! It was time she was on the
+receiving end of a double cross.
+
+"It's a stinking way to run a war," he decided.
+
+Jake chuckled without much humor. "It's the war you wanted, remember?
+They forced our hand, but it had to come sometime. Right now the Lobby's
+fighting to get their hands on your work before we can use it; they're
+just using holding tactics, which helps our side. And we're hoping you
+get the cure so we can win. With that, maybe we'll whip them."
+
+It was a crazy war, with each side killing more of its own men than of
+the enemy. The runners were increasing, and Jake's army was learning to
+shoot the poor devils mercifully and go on. They knew, at least, that
+there was no current danger of infection. In the Lobby towns, more were
+dying of panic in their efforts to escape the runners.
+
+Desert towns had joined the villages, reluctantly but inevitably, to
+give the rebels nearly three-quarters of the total population. But the
+Lobby forces and the few cities held most of the real fighting equipment
+and they were ready to wait until Earth could send out unmanned rockets,
+loaded with atomics, which could cut through space at ten times normal
+speed.
+
+There were vague lines of battle, but time was the vital factor. The
+Lobbies waited to steal a cure for the plague and the villages waited
+until they could announce it and demand surrender as its price.
+
+It looked as if both sides were doomed to disappointment, however. He
+and Chris had put in every spare minute between moving and the minimum
+of sleep in searching for something that would check the disease. It
+couldn't grow in an Earth-normal body, but it didn't die, either. And
+there wasn't enough normal food available to permit the switch-over for
+more than a handful of people. Even Earth was out of luck, since eighty
+percent of her population ate synthetics. There were ways to synthesize
+Earth-normal food, but they were still hopelessly inefficient.
+
+Jake had ordered one of the villages to rebuild their plant for such a
+purpose, while another was producing the enzyme that would permit
+switching. But it looked hopeless for more than a few of the most
+valuable men.
+
+"No progress?" Jake asked for the hundredth time.
+
+Doc grinned wryly. "A lot, but no help. We've found a fine accelerator
+for the bug. We can speed up its incubation or even make someone already
+infected catch it all over again. But we can't slow it down or stop it."
+
+The new laboratory was still being fitted when they arrived. It had been
+dug into one of the few real cliffs in this section of Mars. The power
+plant had been installed, complete with a steam plant that would operate
+off sunlight in the daytime through a series of heat valves that took in
+a lot of warm air and produced smaller amounts hot enough to boil water.
+
+"I'll see you whenever I can," Jake said. "But mostly, you're going to
+be somewhat isolated so they won't trace you. Let them think they goofed
+with the shuttles and hit you and Chris. Anything you need?"
+
+"Guinea pigs," Doc told him sarcastically. It was meant as a joke,
+though a highly bitter one. Jake nodded and left them.
+
+Doc opened the cots as Chris came in, not bothering to unpack the
+equipment. "Hit the sack, Chris," he told her.
+
+She looked at him doubtfully. "You almost said that the way you'd
+address a human being, Dan. You're slipping. One of these days you'll
+like me again."
+
+"Maybe." He was too tired to argue. "I doubt it, though. Forget it and
+get some sleep."
+
+She watched him silently until he got up to turn out the light. Then she
+sighed heavily. "Dan?"
+
+"Yeah?"
+
+"I never got a divorce. The publicity would have been bad. But anyway,
+we're still married."
+
+"That's nice." He swung to face her briefly. "And they found the radio
+in the microscope. Better get to sleep, Chris."
+
+"Oh." It was a quiet exclamation, barely audible. There was a sound that
+might have been a sniffle if it had come from anyone else. Then she
+rolled over. "All right, Dan. I still want to help you."
+
+He cursed himself for a stupid fool for telling her. Fatigue was ruining
+what judgment he had. From now on, he'd have to watch her every minute.
+Or had she really seen the value of the research by now? She wasn't a
+fool. It should have registered on even her stubborn mind. But he was
+too sleepy to think about it.
+
+She had breakfast ready in the morning. She made no comment on what had
+been said during the night. Instead, she began discussing a way to keep
+one of the organic antibiotics from splitting into simpler compounds
+when they tried to switch it over to Mars-normal. They were both
+hopelessly bad chemists and biologists, but there was no one else to do
+the work.
+
+Chris worked harder than ever during the day.
+
+Just after sundown, Jake came in with a heavy box. He dropped it onto
+the floor. "Mice!"
+
+Doc ripped off the cover, exposing fine screening. There were at least
+six dozen mice inside!
+
+"Harkness found them," Jake explained. "A hormone extraction plant used
+them for testing some of the products. Had them sent by regular
+shipments from Earth. Getting them cost a couple of men, but Harkness
+claims it's worth it. He's a good man on a raid. Here!"
+
+He'd gone to the doorway again and came back with another box, this one
+crammed with bottles and boxes. "They had quite a laboratory, and
+Harkness picked out whatever he thought you could use."
+
+Chris and Doc were going through it. The labels were engineering ones,
+but the chemical formulae were identification enough. There were dozens
+of chemicals they hadn't hoped to get.
+
+"Anything else?" Doc finally asked as they began arranging the supplies.
+
+"More runners. A lot more. We're still holding things down, but it's
+reaching a limit. Panic will start in the camps if this keeps on. But
+that's my worry. You stick to yours."
+
+Several of the new chemicals showed promise in the tubes. But two of
+them proved fatal to the mice and the others were completely innocuous
+in the little animal's bodies, both to mouse and to germ. The plague was
+much hardier in contact with living cells than in the artificial
+environment of the culture jars.
+
+They lost seven mice in two days, but that seemed unimportant; the
+females were already living up to their reputations, nearly all
+pregnant. Doc didn't know the gestation period, but he remembered that
+it was short.
+
+"Funny they all started at the same time," he commented. "Must have been
+shipped out separately or else been kept apart while they were switched
+over to Mars-normal. Something interrupted their habits, anyhow."
+
+A few nights later they learned what it was. There was a horrible
+squealing that woke him out of the depths of his sleep. Chris was
+already at the light switch. As light came on, they turned to the mouse
+box.
+
+All the animals were charging about in their limited space, their little
+legs driving madly and their mouths open. What they lacked in size they
+made up in numbers, and the din was terrific.
+
+But it didn't last. One by one, the mice began dropping to the floor of
+the cage. In fifteen minutes, they were all dead!
+
+It was obviously the plague, contracted after having their metabolism
+switched. Women were sterile for some time after Selznik's migraine
+struck, and the same must have been true of the mice. They must have
+contracted the plague at about the same time and reached fertility
+together. Somehow, the plague incubation period had been shortened to
+fit their life span; the disease was nothing if not adaptive.
+
+Chris prepared a slide in dull silence. The familiar cell was there when
+Doc looked through the microscope. He picked up one of the little
+creatures and cut it open, removing one of the foetuses.
+
+"Make a film of that," he suggested.
+
+She worked rapidly, scraping out the almost microscopic brain,
+dissolving out the fatty substance, and transferring the result to a
+film. This time, even at full magnification, there was no sign of the
+filaments that were always present in diseased flesh. The results were
+the same for the other samples they made.
+
+"Something about the very young animal or a secretion from the mother's
+organs keeps the bug from working." Doc reached for a bracky weed and
+accepted a light from Chris without thinking of it. "Every kid I've
+heard about contracted the plague between the second and third year.
+None are born with it, none get it earlier. I've suspected this, but now
+here's confirmation."
+
+Chris began preparing specimens, while Doc got busy with tubes of the
+culture. They'd have to test various fluids from the tiny bodies, but
+there were enough cultures prepared. Then, if the substance only
+inhibited growth, there would be a long, slow test; if it killed the
+bugs, they might know more quickly.
+
+Jake came in before the final tests, but waited on them. Doc was
+studying a film in the microscope. He suddenly motioned excitedly for
+Chris.
+
+"See the filaments? They're completely disintegrated. And there's one of
+the big cells broken open. We've got it! It's in the blood of the
+foetus. And it must be in the blood of newborn children, too!"
+
+Jake looked at the slide, but his face was doubtful.
+
+"Maybe you've got something, Doc. I hope so. And I hope you can use it."
+He shook his head wearily. "We need good news right now. A couple of big
+rockets just reached the station and they've been sending shuttles back
+and forth a mile a minute. Nobody can figure how they got here so fast
+or what they're for. But it doesn't look good for us!"
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+Susceptibility
+
+
+Doc could feel the tension in the village where GHQ was temporarily
+located long before they were close enough for details to register. The
+people were gathered in clusters, staring at the sky where the station
+must be. A few were pacing up and down, gesticulating with tight sweeps
+of their arms.
+
+One woman suddenly went into even more violent action. She leaped into
+the air and then took off at a rapid trot, then a run. Her hands were
+tearing at her clothes and her mouth seemed to be working violently. She
+was halfway to the top of the nearest dune before a rifle cracked. She
+dropped, to twitch once and lie still.
+
+Almost with her death, another figure leaped from one of the houses, his
+face bare of the necessary aspirator. He took off at a violent run, but
+he was falling from lack of air before the bullet ended his struggles.
+
+The people suddenly began to move apart, as if trying to get away from
+each other. For weeks they had faced the horror with courage; now it was
+finally too much for them.
+
+Tension mounted as no news came from the cities. Doc noticed that it
+seemed to aggravate or speed up the disease. He saw three men shot in
+the next half-hour.
+
+He was trying to calm them with word of a possible cure for the plague,
+but their reactions were as curiously dull as those of Jake had been. As
+he spoke, they faced him with set expressions. At his mention of the
+need for the blood of young children, they turned from him, sullenly
+silent.
+
+Jake came over, nodding unhappily. "It's what I was afraid might happen,
+Doc. George Lynn! Tell Doc what's wrong."
+
+Lynn was reluctant, but he finally stumbled out his explanation. "It
+ain't like you, Doc. Comes from that Lobby woman you got. It's her dirty
+idea. We've seen the Lobby doctors cutting open our kids, poisoning
+their blood, and bleeding them dry. That ain't gonna happen again, Doc.
+You tell her it ain't!"
+
+Doc swore as he realized their ignorance. An unexplained vaccination
+looked like poisoning of the blood. But he couldn't understand the
+bleeding part until Jake filled him in.
+
+"Northport infant's wing. Each department has its own blood bank and
+donation is compulsory. Southport started it a couple months ago, too."
+
+The long arm of the Lobby had reached out again. Now if he ever got them
+to try the treatment, it would be only after long sessions of preparing
+them with the facts, and there was hardly enough time for the crucial
+work!
+
+By afternoon, Judge Ben Wilson reached them. His voice shook with
+fatigue as he climbed up to address the crowd through a power megaphone.
+"Southport's going crazy." He had to pause for breath between each
+sentence. "Earth's pulling back all the important people. They're
+packing them into the ships. They're leaving only colonials with no
+Earth rights. Those ships left when they decided the plague was coming
+from here. They won't let anybody back until the plague is licked. There
+won't be an Earth technician on Mars tomorrow."
+
+"No bombs?" someone called.
+
+"No bombs. The ships must have started before you rebelled, maybe meant
+honestly to save their own kind. But now it's a military action, and
+don't think it won't mean trouble. The poor devils in the city bet on
+the wrong horse. Now they can't run their food factories or anything
+else for long. Not without technicians. They've got to whip you now. Up
+to this time, they've been fighting for the Lobbies. Now they'll fight
+you for their own bellies to get your supplies. And they've still got
+shuttle rockets and fuel for them. Now beat it. I gotta confer with
+Jake."
+
+Doc started after the judge, but Dr. Harkness caught his arm and drew
+him aside. Chris followed.
+
+"I've found another epidemic," Harkness told them. "Over at Marconi.
+It's kept me on the run all night, and now half the village is down with
+it. Starts like a common cold, runs a fair fever, and the skin breaks
+out all over with bright red dots...."
+
+He went on describing it. Chris began asking him about what medical
+supplies he had brought with him, pilfered from Northport hospital. She
+seemed to know what it was, but refused to say until she saw the cases.
+Doc also preferred to wait. Sometimes things weren't as bad as they
+seemed, though usually they were worse.
+
+Marconi was dead to all outward appearances, with nobody on the streets.
+It had been a village of great hopes a week before, since this was where
+they had decided to experiment with switching the people back to
+Earth-normal. They'd had the best chance of survival of anyone on Mars
+until this came up.
+
+Three people lay on the beds in the first house Harkness led them to.
+The room was darkened, and a man was stumbling around, trying to tend
+the others, though the little spots showed on his skin. He grinned
+weakly. "Hi, Doc. I guess we're making a lot of trouble, ain't we?"
+
+Chris gave Doc no chance to answer. "Just as I thought. Measles! Plain
+old-fashioned measles."
+
+"Figured so," the sick man said. "Like my brother back on Earth."
+
+The others looked doubtful, but Doc reassured them. Chris should know;
+she'd worked in a swanky hospital where the patients were mostly
+Earth-normal. Measles was one of the diseases which was foiled by the
+metabolism switch. Well, at least they wouldn't have to be quarantined
+here.
+
+Chris finished treating the family with impersonal efficiency,
+discussing the symptoms loudly with Harkness. "It's a good thing it
+isn't serious!"
+
+"No," Harkness answered bitterly. "Not serious. It's only killed five
+children and three adults so far!"
+
+"It would, here," Doc agreed unhappily. He led Chris out of the room on
+the pretext of washing his hands. "It's serious enough to force us to
+abandon the whole idea of going back to Earth-normal. Measles today,
+smallpox, tuberculosis, scarlet fever and everything else tomorrow.
+These people have lived Mars-normal so long their natural immunity has
+been destroyed. On Earth where the disease was everywhere, kids used to
+pick up some immunity with constant exposure, even without what might be
+called a case of the disease. Here, the blood has no reason to build
+antibodies. They can be killed by things people used to laugh at. How
+the disease got here, I don't know. But it's here. So we'll have to
+give up the idea of switching back to Earth-normal."
+
+He gathered up one of the kits and started toward the other houses. "And
+Lord knows how long it will take to get the blood for the other
+treatment, even if it works."
+
+They worked as a team for a while, with Harkness frowning as he watched
+Chris. Finally the young doctor stopped Chris outside the fifth house.
+"These are my patients, Dr. Ryan. I left the Lobby because I didn't
+believe colonials were mere livestock. I still feel the same. I
+appreciate your help in diagnosis and methods of treatment. But I can't
+let you handle my patients this way."
+
+"Dan!" She swung around with eyes glazing. "Dan, are you going to stand
+for that?"
+
+"I think you'd better wait in the tractor, Chris."
+
+He was lucky enough to catch the kit she threw at him before its
+precious contents spilled. But it wasn't luck that guided his hand to
+the back of her skirt hard enough to leave it stinging.
+
+Her face froze and she stormed out. A moment later they heard the
+tractor start off.
+
+But Doc had no time to think of her. He and Harkness split up and began
+covering the streets, house by house, while he passed on the word to
+abandon the metabolism switch and go back to Mars-normal.
+
+Jake sent two other doctors to relieve them late in the evening. Things
+were somewhat quieter at GHQ as Doc reported the events at Marconi.
+
+"Where's Dr. Ryan?" Jake asked at last.
+
+Doc exchanged glances with Harkness. "She isn't in the lab?"
+
+"Wasn't there an hour ago."
+
+Doc cursed himself for letting her go. With the knowledge that the radio
+in the mike was disabled, she'd obviously grabbed the first chance to
+report back. And with her had gone news of the only cure they had found.
+
+Jake took it as philosophically as he could, though it was a heavy blow
+to his hopes. They spent half the night looking for her tractor, on the
+chance that she might have gotten lost or broken down, but there was no
+sign of it.
+
+She was waiting in the laboratory when he returned at dawn. Her face was
+dirty and her uniform was a mess. But she was smiling. She got up to
+greet him, holding out two large bottles.
+
+"Infant plasma--straight from Southport. And if you think I had it easy
+lying my way in and out of the hospital, you're a fool, Dan Feldman. If
+the man who took my place there hadn't been a native idiot, I never
+would have gotten away with it."
+
+The things he had suspected could still be right, he realized. She could
+have reported everything to the Lobby. It was a better explanation than
+her vague account of bullying her way in and out. But she'd had a rough
+drive, and he wanted the plasma. Curiously, he was glad to have her back
+with him. He reached out a hand for the bottles.
+
+She put the bottle on the table and grabbed up a short-bladed knife.
+"Not so fast," she cried. Her eyes were blazing now. "Dan Feldman, if
+you touch those bottles until you've crawled across the floor on your
+face and apologized for the way you treated me the last few days, I'll
+cut your damned heart out."
+
+He shook his head, chuckling at the picture she made. There were times
+when he could almost see why he'd married her.
+
+"All right, Chris," he gave in. "I'll be darned if I'll crawl, but
+you've earned an apology. Okay?"
+
+She sighed uncertainly. Then she nodded and began changing for work.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+Immunity
+
+
+They worked through the day in what seemed to be armed truce. There was
+no coffee waiting for him when he awoke next, as he'd come to expect,
+but he didn't comment. He went to where she was already working,
+checking on the results of the plasma on the cultures.
+
+The response had been slower than with the mouse blood, but now the bugs
+seemed to be dead. The filaments were destroyed, and there were no signs
+of the big cells. It seemed to be a cure, at least in the culture
+bottles.
+
+"We'll need volunteers," he decided. "There should be animals, but we
+don't have any. At least this stuff isn't toxic. We need a natural
+immune and someone infected. Two of each, so one can be treated and the
+other used for a control. Makes four. Not enough to be sure, but it will
+have to do."
+
+"Two," Chris corrected. "You're not infected, I am."
+
+"Two others," he agreed. "I'll get them from Jake."
+
+Most of GHQ was out on the street, but Doc found Jake inside the big
+schoolroom where he enjoyed his early morning bracky and coffee. The
+chief listened and agreed at once, turning to the others in the room.
+
+"Who's had the jumping headache? Okay, Swanee. Who never had it?" He
+blinked in surprise as three men nodded out of the eight present. "I
+guess you go, Tom."
+
+The two men stood up, tamping out their weeds, and went out with Doc.
+
+Chris had everything set up. They matched coins to decide who would be
+treated. Doc noticed that Chris would get no plasma, while he was
+scheduled for everything. He watched her prepare the culture and add the
+accelerator that would speed development and make certain he and Tom
+were infected, then let her inject it.
+
+That was all, except for the waiting. To keep conditions more closely
+alike, they were to stay there until the tests were finished, not even
+eating for fear of upsetting the conditions. Swanee dug out a pack of
+worn cards and began to deal while Doc dug out some large pills to use
+as chips.
+
+It was an hour later when the pain began. Doc had just won the pot of
+fifty pills and opened his mouth for the expected gloating. He yelled as
+an explosion seemed to go off inside his head. Even closing his mouth
+was agony.
+
+A moment later, Tom began to sweat. It got worse, spreading to the whole
+area of the back of the head and neck. Doc lay on the cot, envying Chris
+and Swanee who had already been infected naturally. He longed
+desperately for bracky, and had to keep reminding himself that no drugs
+must upset the tests. It was the longest day he had ever spent, and he
+began to doubt that he could get through it. He watched the little clock
+move from one minute to nine over to half a minute and hung breathless
+until it hit the nine. There was no question about whether the infection
+had taken. Now they could dull the agony.
+
+Chris had the anodyne tablets already dissolved in water, and Swanee was
+passing out three lighted bracky weeds. It took a few minutes for the
+relief of the anodyne, and even that couldn't kill all the pain. But it
+didn't matter by comparison. He sucked the weed, mashed it out and began
+dealing the cards again.
+
+They had a plentiful supply of the anodyne and used it liberally during
+the night. The test was a speeded-up simulation of the natural course of
+the disease, where painkiller would take time to get for most people
+here, but would then be used generously.
+
+Precisely at nine in the morning, Chris began to inject Swanee and Doc
+with plasma.
+
+Now there was no thought of cards. They waited, trying to talk, but with
+most of their attention on the clock. Doc had estimated that an hour
+should be enough to show results, but it was hard to remember that an
+hour was the guess as to the minimum time.
+
+He winced as Chris took a tiny bit of flesh from his neck. She went to
+the other men, and then submitted to his work on herself. Then she began
+preparing the slides.
+
+"Feldman," she read the name of the slide as she inserted it into the
+microscope. Then her breath caught sharply. "Only dead cells!"
+
+It was the same for Swanee and Tom. Each had to look at his own slide
+and have it explained before the results could be believed. But at last
+Chris bent over her own slide. A minute later she glanced up, nodding.
+"What it should be. It checks."
+
+Tom whooped and went out the door to notify Jake. There was only plasma
+for some two hundred injections, but that should yield sufficient proof.
+Once salvation was offered, there should be no trouble convincing the
+people that blood donations from their children were worthwhile.
+
+Later, when the last of the plasma had been used, they could finally
+relax. Chris slipped off her smock and dropped onto the cot. A tired
+smile came onto her lips. "You're forgiven, Dan," she said. A moment
+later she was obviously asleep. Doc meant to join her, but it was too
+much effort. He leaned his head forward onto his arms, vaguely wondering
+why she was calling off the feud.
+
+It was night outside when he awoke, and he was lying on the cot, though
+he still felt cramped and strained. He stirred, groaning, and finally
+realized that a hand was on his shoulder shaking him. He looked up to
+see Jake above him. Chris was busy with the coffee maker.
+
+Jake slumped onto the cot beside Doc. "We took Southport," he announced.
+
+That knocked the sleep out of Doc's system. "You what?"
+
+"We took it, lock, stock and barrel. I figured the news of your cure
+would put guts into the men, and it did. But we'd probably have taken it
+anyhow. There wasn't anything to fight for there after Earth pulled out
+and the plague really hit. Wilson mistook last-minute panic for fighting
+spirit. The poor devils didn't have anything to fight about, once the
+Lobby stopped goading them."
+
+Doc tried to assimilate the news. But once the surprise was gone, he
+found it meant very little. Maybe his revolutionary zeal had cooled,
+once the Lobby men had pulled out. "We'll need a lot more plasma than
+there is in Southport," he said.
+
+"Not so much, maybe," Jake denied. "Doc, three of the men you injected
+were shot down as runners. Your plasma's no good."
+
+"It takes time to work, Jake. I told you there might be a case or two
+that would be too close to the edge. Three is more than I expected; but
+it's not impossible."
+
+"There was plenty of time. They blew after we got back from Southport."
+Jack dropped his hand on Doc's shoulder, and his face softened.
+"Harkness tested every man you injected. He finished half an hour ago.
+Five showed dead bugs. The rest of them weren't helped at all."
+
+Doc fumbled for a weed, trying to think. But his thoughts refused to
+focus. "Five!"
+
+"Five out of two hundred. That's about average. And what about Tom? He
+was jumping around after the test last night, telling how you'd cured
+him, how he'd seen the dead bugs; but he never had the jumping headache,
+and you never gave him the plasma! He's got dead bugs, though. Harkness
+tested him."
+
+Doc let his realization of his own idiocy sink in until he could believe
+it. Jake was right. Tom had never been treated, yet Chris had reported
+dead bugs. They'd all been so ready to believe in miracles that no one
+had been able to think straight after the long wait.
+
+"There was a bump on his neck--a small one," he said slowly. "Jake, he
+must have caught it, even if he seemed immune. If he was taking anodyne
+anyway for something--or unconscious--"
+
+"He was up in Northport six years ago for a kidney operation," Jake
+admitted doubtfully. "We had to chip in to pay for it. But you still
+didn't treat him, and he's cured. Face it, Doc, that plasma is no good
+inside the body."
+
+His hand tightened on Doc's shoulder again. "We're not blaming you. We
+don't judge a man here except by what he is. Maybe the stuff helps a
+little. We'll go on using it when we get it; tell everybody you were a
+mite optimistic, so they'll figure it's a gamble, but have a little hope
+left. And you keep trying. Something cured it in Tom. Now you find out
+what."
+
+Doc watched him go out numbly, and turned to Chris.
+
+"It can't be right," she said shakily. "You and Swanee were cured. Maybe
+it was the accelerator. It had to be something."
+
+"You didn't have the accelerator," he accused.
+
+"No, and I've still got live bugs. I was never supposed to be cured, so
+I expected to see just what I saw. How I missed the fact that Tom should
+have been like me, I don't know. Damn it, oh, damn it!"
+
+He's never seen her cry before, except in fury. But she mastered it
+almost at once, shaking tears out of her eyes. "All right. Plasma works
+in a bottle but not in an adult body. Maybe something works in the body
+but not in a bottle."
+
+"Maybe. And maybe some people are just naturally immune after it reaches
+a certain stage. Maybe we ran into coincidence."
+
+But he didn't believe that, any more than she did. The answer had to be
+in the room. He'd taken a massive dose of the disease and been cured in
+a few hours.
+
+Outside the room, the war went on, drawing toward a close. The supposed
+partial cure was good propaganda, if nothing else, and Jake was widening
+his territory steadily. There was only token resistance against him. He
+had the Southport shuttles now to cover huge areas in a hurry. But
+inside the room, the battle was less successful. It wasn't the
+accelerator. It wasn't the tablets of anodyne. They even tried sweeping
+the floor and using the dust without results.
+
+Then another test in the room, made with four volunteers Jake selected,
+yielded complete cures after injections with plain salt water in place
+of plasma.
+
+The plague speeded up again. About four people out of a hundred now
+seemed to have caught the disease and cured themselves. They accounted
+for what faith was left in Doc's plasma and gave some unfounded hope to
+the others.
+
+Northport fell a week later, putting the whole planet in rebel hands.
+
+Jake returned, wearier than ever. He'd proved to be one of the natural
+immunes, but the weight of the campaign that could only end in a defeat
+by the plague left him no room to rejoice in his personal fortune.
+
+This time he looked completely defeated. And a moment later, Doc saw why
+as Jake flipped a flimsy sheet onto the table. It bore the seals of
+Space and Medical Lobbies.
+
+Jake pointed upwards. "The war rockets are there, all right. We knew
+they'd come. Now all they want for calling them off is our surrender and
+your cure. If they don't get both, they'll blow the planet to bits. We
+have two days."
+
+The rockets could be seen clearly with binoculars. There were more than
+enough to destroy all life on the planet. Maybe they'd be used
+eventually, anyhow, since the Lobbies wanted no more rebellion. But with
+a cure for the plague, he might have bought them off.
+
+Chris stood beside him, looking as if it were a bitter pill for her,
+too. She'd risked herself in the hands of the enemy, had cooperated with
+him in everything she'd been taught to oppose, and had worked like a
+dog. Now the Lobbies seemed to forget her as a useless tool. They were
+falling back on a raw power play and forgetting any earlier schemes.
+
+"Maybe they'd hold off for a while if I agreed to go to them and share
+all my ideas, specimens and notes," he said at last. "Do you think your
+Lobby would settle for that, Chris?"
+
+"I don't know, Dan. I've stopped thinking their way." She seemed almost
+apologetic for the admission.
+
+He dropped an arm over her shoulder and turned with her back to the
+laboratory. "Okay, then we've got to find a miracle. We've got two days
+ahead of us. At least we can try."
+
+But he knew he was lying to himself. There wasn't anything he could
+think of to try.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+Decision
+
+
+Two days was never enough time for a miracle. Doc decided as he packed
+his notes into a small bag and put it beside his bundle of personal
+belongings. He glanced around the room for the last time, and managed a
+grin at Jake's gloomy expression.
+
+"Maybe I can bluff them, or maybe they'll string along for a while," he
+said. "Anyhow, now that they've agreed to take me and my notes in place
+of the cure we're fresh out of, I've got to be on that shuttle when it
+goes back to their men at orbital station."
+
+Jake nodded. "I don't like selling friends down the river, Doc. But it
+wouldn't do you any more good to blow up with the planet, I reckon. They
+won't call off the war rockets when they do get you, of course. But
+maybe they won't use them, except as a threat to put the Lobbies back
+in, stronger than ever."
+
+He stuck out one of his awkwardly shaped hands, clapped the aspirator
+over his face and hurried out. Doc picked up his bags and went toward
+the little tractor where Lou was waiting to drive him and Chris back
+toward Southport and the shuttle rocket that would be landing for them.
+They hadn't mentioned Chris in their demands, but her father must expect
+her to return.
+
+After they had him, he'd be on his own. His best course was probably to
+insist on talking only to Ryan at Medical Lobby, and then being
+completely honest. The room here would be kept sealed, in case the
+Lobby wanted to investigate where he had failed. And his notes were
+honest, which was something that could usually be determined. Chris
+could testify to that, anyhow, since she'd kept a lot of them for him.
+
+At best, there would be a chance for some compromise and perhaps some
+clue for them that might eventually end the plague. They had enough men
+to work on it, and billions in equipment. At worst, he should gain a
+little time.
+
+"Cheer up, Chris," he told her as he climbed through the little airlock.
+"Maybe Harkness will turn up the cure before our negotiations break
+down. He has the whole of Northport Hospital to play with. They haven't
+tried to chase him out of there yet. After all, we almost found
+something with no equipment except wild imaginations."
+
+She shook her head as the tractor began moving. "Shut up! I've got
+enough trouble without your coming down with logorrhea. Don't be a
+fool."
+
+"Why change now?" he asked her. "Everything I've done has been because I
+am a fool. I guess my luck lasted longer than I could expect. And I'm
+still fool enough to think that the solution has to turn up eventually.
+We know it has to be in that room. Damn it, we must know it--if we could
+only think straight now."
+
+She reached over and touched his hand, but made no comment. They had
+been over that statement of desperation too many times already. But it
+kept nagging at him--something in the room, something in the room!
+Something so common that nobody noticed it!
+
+They passed a crowd chasing down a runner. Something in that room could
+have saved the unlucky man. It could have saved Mars, perhaps.
+
+He growled for the hundredth time, cursing his fatigue-numbed mind. Too
+little sleep, too much coffee and bracky....
+
+He reached for the package of weed, realizing that he would miss it on
+Earth, if he ever got there. Like everything here on the planet, he'd
+begun by detesting it and wound up finding it the thing he wanted to
+keep forever. He lighted the bracky and sat smoking, watching Lou drive.
+When the first was finished, he lighted another from the butt.
+
+She put out a hand and took it away. "Please, Dan. I can stand the
+stuff, but I'll never like it, and the tractor's stuffy enough already.
+I've taken enough of it. And it keeps reminding me of our test--the
+three of you stinking up the place, puffing and blowing that out, while
+I couldn't even get a breath of air...."
+
+She was getting logorrhea herself now and--
+
+The answer finally hit him! He jerked around, making a grab for Lou's
+shoulder, motioning for the man to head back.
+
+"Bracky--it has to be! Chris, that's it. Jake picked out the second
+group of men from his friends--and they are all cronies because they
+hang around so much in their so-called smoking room. The first time, it
+killed the bugs for all of us who smoked--and it didn't work for you
+because you never learned the habit."
+
+Lou had the tractor turned and the rheostat all the way to the floor.
+
+She was sitting up now, but she wasn't fully satisfied. "The percentage
+of immunes seems about right. But why do some of the smokers get the
+disease while some don't?"
+
+"Why not? It depends on whether they pick up the habit before or after
+the disease gets started. Tom must have got his while he was in
+Northport. They wouldn't let him smoke there--if he had the habit
+before, for that matter."
+
+She found no fault with that. He twisted it back and forth in his mind,
+trying to find a fault. There seemed to be none. The only trouble was
+that they couldn't send a message that bracky was the cure and hope that
+Earth would prove it true. No polite note of apology would do after
+that. They had to be sure. Too many other ideas had proved wrong
+already.
+
+Jake saw them coming and came running toward the laboratory, but Lou
+stopped the tractor before it reached the building and let the older man
+in.
+
+"Get me a dozen men who have the plague. I want the worst cases you
+have, and ones that Harkness tested himself," Doc ordered. "And then
+start praying that the cure we've got works fast."
+
+Chris was at the electron mike at once, but one of her hands reached out
+for the weed. She began puffing valiantly, making sick faces. Now other
+men began coming in, their faces struggling to find hope, but not daring
+to believe yet. Jake followed them.
+
+"We'll test at ten-minute intervals. That will be about two hours for
+the last from the group," Doc decided. One of the doctors Harkness had
+brought to the villages was busy cutting tiny sections from the lumps on
+the men's necks, while Chris ran them through the microscope to make
+sure the bugs were still alive. The regular optical mike was strong
+enough for that.
+
+Doc handed each man a bracky weed, with instructions to keep smoking, no
+matter how sick it made him.
+
+There were no results at the end of ten minutes when the first test was
+made. The second, at the end of twenty minutes, was still infected with
+live bugs. At the half-hour, Chris frowned.
+
+"I can't be sure--take a look, Dan."
+
+He bent over, moving the slide to examine another spot. "I think so. The
+next one should tell."
+
+There was no doubt about the fourth test. The bugs were dead, without a
+single exception that they could find.
+
+One by one, the men were tested and went storming out, shouting the
+news. For a minute, the gathering crowd was skeptical, remembering the
+other failures. Then, abruptly, men were screaming, crying and fighting
+for the precious bracky, like the legions of the damned grabbing for
+lottery tickets when the prize was a passport to paradise.
+
+Jake swore as he moved toward the door. "We're low on bracky here. Have
+to get a supply from Edison, I guess, and cart it to the shuttle. Enough
+for a sample, and to make them want more. It'll be tough, but we'll get
+it there in time--by the time the shuttle should be picking you up. Doc,
+you've won our war! From now on, if Earth wants to keep her population
+up, we'll be a free planet!"
+
+Chris turned slowly from the microscope, holding a slide in her hands.
+"My bugs," she said unbelievingly. "Dan, they're dead!"
+
+Jake patted her shoulder. "That makes it perfect, girl. Now come on.
+We've got to start celebrating a victory!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was the general feeling of most of the heads of the villages when
+they met the next day in Southport, using the courtroom that had been
+presided over so long by Judge Ben Wilson. It was victory, and to the
+victor belonged the spoils. The bracky had gone out to Earth on a
+converted war rocket that could make the trip in less than two weeks,
+and one packet had been specially labeled for Captain Everts. But Earth
+had already confirmed the cure. The small amounts of the herb found in
+the botanical collections had been enough to satisfy all doubts.
+
+Harkness, Chris and Doc had been fighting against the desire to rob
+Earth blind that filled most of the men here for hours now. Now they had
+the backing of Jake and Ben Wilson. And now finally they leaned back,
+sensing that the argument had been won.
+
+Bargaining was all right in its place, but it had no place in affairs of
+life and death such as this. They had to see that Earth received all the
+bracky she needed. It was only right to charge a fair price for it, but
+they couldn't restrict it by withholding or overcharging. And they could
+still gain their ends without blackmail.
+
+Martian alkaloids were tricky things, and bracky smoke contained a
+number of them. It would take Earth at least ten years to discover and
+synthesize the right one--and it would still probably cost more than it
+would to import the weed from Mars. As long as the source of that weed
+was here, and in the hands of the colonials, there would be no danger of
+Earth's bombing the planet.
+
+Harkness got up to underscore a point Wilson had made. "The plague lived
+a million years, and it won't disappear now. The jumping headache, or
+Selznick's migraine, is unpleasant enough to make us reasonably sure
+that there will be a steady consumption of the weed. Our problem will be
+to keep the children from using too much of it, probably." He pulled a
+weed out and lighted it, puckering his face as the smoke bit his
+tongue. "I'm told that this gets to be an enjoyable habit. If I can
+believe that, surely you can believe me when I say we don't have to
+bargain with lives."
+
+The village men were human, and most of them could remember the strain
+they had been under when they expected those they loved to die at any
+hour. It had made them crave vengeance, but now as they had a chance to
+reexamine it, they began to find it harder to impose the horror of any
+such threat on others. The final vote was almost unanimous.
+
+Doc listened as they wrangled over the wording of the message to Earth,
+feeling disconnected from it. He passed Chris a bracky and lighted it
+for her. She took it automatically, smiling as the smoke hit her lungs.
+It was one thing they had in common now, at least.
+
+Ben Wilson finally read the message.
+
+"To the people of Earth, greetings!
+
+"On behalf of the free people of Mars, I have the honor to announce that
+this planet hereby declares itself a sovereign and independent world. We
+shall continue to regard Earth as our mother, and to consider the health
+and welfare of her people in no way second to our own in matters which
+affect both planets. We trust that Earth will share this feeling of
+mutual friendship. We trust that all strains of hostility will be ended.
+The advantages to each from peaceful commerce make any course other than
+the most cordial of relations unthinkable.
+
+"We shall consider proof of such friendship an order by Earth to all
+rockets circling this planet that they shall deliver themselves safely
+into our hands, in order that we may begin converting them to peaceful
+purposes for the trade that is to come. In turn, we pledge that all
+efforts will be made to ensure a prompt delivery of those products most
+in demand, including the curative bracky plant."
+
+He turned to Doc then. "You want to sign it, Dr. Feldman? Make it as
+acting president or something, until we can get around to voting you
+into permanent office."
+
+"You and Jake fight over the job," Doc told him. "No, Ben, I mean it."
+
+He got up and moved out into the outer room, where he could avoid the
+stares of amazement that were turned to him. He'd never asked for the
+honor, and he didn't want it.
+
+Chris came with him. Her face was shocked and something was slowly
+draining out of it as he looked at her.
+
+"Forget it, Chris," he said. "You're going back to Earth. There is
+nothing for you here."
+
+She hadn't quite given up. "There could be, Dan. You know that."
+
+"No. No, Chris, I don't think there ever can be. You can't find a man
+strong enough to rule who'll be weak enough to let you rule in his
+place. It didn't work on Earth, and it won't work here. Forget the
+dreams you had of what could be done with a new planet. Those are the
+dreams that made a mess of the old one."
+
+"I'll be back," she told him. "Some day I'll be back."
+
+He shook his head again. "No. You wouldn't like what you find here.
+Freedom is heady stuff, but you have to have a taste for it. You can't
+acquire a fondness for it secondhand. And for a while, there's going to
+be freedom here. Besides, once you get back to Earth, you'll forget what
+happened here."
+
+She sighed at last. For the first time since he had known her, she
+seemed to give in completely. And for that brief moment, he loved what
+she could have been, but never would be.
+
+"All right, Dan," she said quietly. "I can't fight you. I never could, I
+see now. I'll take the rocket back. What are you going to do?"
+
+He hadn't bothered to think, but he knew the answer. "Research. What
+else?"
+
+There would be a lot of research done here. It had been suppressed too
+long, and had piled up a back-pressure that would have to be relieved.
+And from that research, he suspected, would come the end of the stable
+oligarchy of Earth. It could never stand against the changes that would
+be pouring out of Mars.
+
+She put her hands on his shoulders and moved forward to kiss him. He
+bent down to meet her, and found her eyes were wet. Maybe his were, too.
+Then she broke free.
+
+"You're a fool, Dan Feldman," she whispered, and began moving down the
+hallway and out of the council hall of Mars.
+
+Doc Feldman nodded slowly as he let her go. He was a fool. He had always
+been a fool, and always would be. And that was why he could never take
+over leadership here. Fools and idealists should never govern a world.
+It took practical men such as Jake to do that.
+
+But the practical men needed the foolish idealists, too. And maybe for a
+time here on Mars their kind of men and his kind of fools could make one
+more stab at the ancient puzzle of freedom.
+
+Outside the war rockets of Earth began landing quietly on the free soil
+of Mars.
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following errors in the original have been
+corrected in this version:
+
+Page 5: 'and there was' to 'and there were'
+
+Page 9: 'ideopathic gastroentiritis' to 'idiopathic gastroenteritis'
+
+Page 29: 'The cheapness of snythetics' to 'The cheapness of synthetics'
+
+Page 42: 'huband's' to 'husband's'
+
+Page 43: 'Southpost' to 'Southport'
+
+Page 47: 'laywer' to 'lawyer'
+
+Page 50: 'in a can' to 'to a can'
+
+Page 118: 'Selnick's' to 'Selznick's'
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+ANDRE NORTON
+
+051615 #Beast Master# 75c
+
+092668 #Catseye# 75c
+
+123117 #The Crossroads of Time# 60c
+
+137950 #Dark Piper# 60c
+
+139923 #Daybreak, 2250 A.D.# 75c
+
+142323 #Defiant Agents# 75c
+
+166694 #Dread Companion# 75c
+
+223651 #Exiles of the Stars# 95c
+
+272260 #Galactic Derelict# 75c
+
+337014 #High Sorcery# 75c
+
+354217 #Huon of the Horn# 60c
+
+358408 #Ice Crown# 75c
+
+415513 #Judgment on Janus# 75c
+
+436725 #Key Out of Time# 75c
+
+471615 #The Last Planet# 60c
+
+492363 #Lord of Thunder# 75c
+
+541011 #Moon of Three Rings# 75c
+
+577510 #Night of Masks# 60c
+
+634105 #Operation Time Search# 60c
+
+638213 #Ordeal In Otherwhere# 60c
+
+668319 #Plague Ship# 60c
+
+675553 #Postmarked the Stars# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                24C
+
+
+ANDRE NORTON
+
+696823 #Quest Crosstime# 75c
+
+749812 #Sargasso of Space# 75c
+
+756957 #Sea Siege# 75c
+
+758318 #Secret of the Lost Race# 75c
+
+759910 #Shadow Hawk# 75c
+
+768010 #The Sioux Spaceman# 60c
+
+775510 #Sorceress of Witch World# 75c
+
+780114 #Star Born# 75c
+
+780718 #Star Gate# 60c
+
+781914 #Star Hunter & Voodoo Planet# 60c
+
+784314 #The Stars Are Ours# 75c
+
+787416 #Storm over Warlock# 60c
+
+808014 #Three Against the Witch World# 75c
+
+812511 #The Time Traders# 60c
+
+840009 #Unchartered Stars# 75c
+
+873190 #Warlock of the Witch World# 60c
+
+878710 #Web of the Witch World# 75c
+
+897017 #Witch World# 60c
+
+925511 #The X Factor# 75c
+
+942516 #Year of the Unicorn# 60c
+
+959619 #The Zero Stone# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                25B
+
+
+Don't miss these exciting adventures of
+
+#PERRY RHODAN#
+
+Just 75c Each
+
+659938 #Perry Rhodan #1#
+#Enterprise Stardust# Scheer & Ernsting
+
+659946 #Perry Rhodan #2#
+#The Radiant Dome# Scheer & Ernsting
+
+659953 #Perry Rhodan #3#
+#Galactic Alarm# Mahr & Shols
+
+659961 #Perry Rhodan #4#
+#Invasion from Space# Ernsting & Mahr
+
+659979 #Perry Rhodan #5#
+#The Vega Sector# Scheer & Mahr
+
+659987 #Perry Rhodan #6#
+#Secret of the Time Vault# Darlton
+
+659995 #Perry Rhodan #7#
+#Fortress of the Six Moons# Scheer
+
+660001 #Perry Rhodan #8#
+#The Galactic Riddle# Darlton
+
+659789 #Perry Rhodan #9#
+#Quest through Space and Time# Darlton
+
+660027 #Perry Rhodan #10#
+#The Ghosts of Gol# Mahr
+
+659805 #Perry Rhodan #11#
+#Planet of the Dying Sun# Mahr
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                32A
+
+
+Don't miss these exciting adventures of
+
+#PERRY RHODAN#
+
+Just 75c Each
+
+659813 #Perry Rhodan #12#
+#Rebels of Tuglan# Darlton
+
+659821 #Perry Rhodan #13#
+#The Immortal Unknown# Darlton
+
+659839 #Perry Rhodan #14#
+#Venus in Danger# Mahr
+
+659847 #Perry Rhodan #15#
+#Escape To Venus# Mahr
+
+659862 #Perry Rhodan #16#
+#Secret Barrier X# Shols
+
+659870 #Perry Rhodan #17#
+#The Venus Trap# Mahr
+
+659888 #Perry Rhodan #18#
+#Menace of the Mutant Master# Mahr
+
+659904 #Perry Rhodan #19#
+#Mutants vs. Mutants# Darlton
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                31B
+
+
+Great Science Fiction Collections
+
+054551 #The Best from Fantasy and SF 16th Series# 95c
+
+054569 #The Best from Fantasy and SF 17th Series# 95c
+
+054577 #The Best from Fantasy and SF 18th Series# 75c
+
+206706 #England Swings SF# $1.25
+
+363317 #The Second "If" Reader# 95c
+
+572701 #New Worlds of Fantasy# 75c
+
+572719 #New Worlds of Fantasy 2# 75c
+
+572727 #New Worlds of Fantasy 3# 75c
+
+629402 #On Our Way to the Future# 75c
+
+806992 #This Side of Infinity# 75c
+
+846006 #Universe 1# 75c
+
+846014 #Universe 2# 95c
+
+913533 #World's Best 1st Series# 95c
+
+913541 #World's Best 2nd Series# 95c
+
+913558 #World's Best 3rd Series# 95c
+
+913566 #World's Best 4th Series# 95c
+
+913525 #World's Best Science Fiction 1969# 95c
+
+913574 #World's Best Science Fiction 1970# 95c
+
+913582 #World's Best Science Fiction 1971# 95c
+
+913590 #Best Science Fiction for 1972# 95c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+      *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                12-72-34A
+
+
+Frank Herbert
+
+172619 #Dune# $1.25
+
+302612 #Green Brain# 60c
+
+909267 #The Worlds of Frank Herbert# 95c
+
+
+URSULA LEGUIN
+
+107011 #City of Illusion# 60c
+
+478008 #Left Hand of Darkness# 95c
+
+732917 #Rocannon's World# 75c
+
+
+Samuel R. Delany
+
+045914 #Babel 17# 60c
+
+047225 #Ballad of Beta 2# 60c
+
+196816 #Einstein Intersection# 75c
+
+226415 #Fall of the Towers# $1.25
+
+390211 #Jewels of Aptor# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.       12-72-35B
+
+
+A. E. Van Vogt
+
+048603 #The Battle of Forever# 95c
+
+104109 #Children of Tomorrow# 95c
+
+137984 #Darkness on Diamondia# 95c
+
+228114 #The Far Out Worlds of A. E. Van Vogt# 75c
+
+697003 #Quest For the Future# 95c
+
+765008 #The Silkie# 60c
+
+871814 #The War Against the Rulls# $1.25
+
+878553 #The Weapon Shops of Isher# 60c
+
+
+JOHN BRUNNER
+
+033001 #The Atlantic Abomination# 60c
+
+166686 #Dramaturges of Yan# 75c
+
+381210 #Jagged Orbit# $1.25
+
+524009 #Meeting at Infinity# 60c
+
+812701 #Times Without Number# 60c
+
+822106 #Traveler in Black# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.        36A
+
+
+11
+
+NOVELS BY
+
+ROBERT A. HEINLEIN
+
+
+055004 #Between Planets# 95c
+
+106005 #Citizen of the Galaxy# 95c
+
+318006 #Have Space Suit Will Travel# 95c
+
+711408 #Red Planet# 95c
+
+733303 #Rocket Ship Galileo# 95c
+
+734400 #The Rolling Stones# 95c
+
+777300 #Space Cadet# 95c
+
+780007 #The Star Beast# 95c
+
+811257 #Time for the Stars# 95c
+
+826602 #Tunnel in the Sky# 95c
+
+915025 #The Worlds of Robert A. Heinlein# 95c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         17B
+
+
+EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
+
+Just 75c each
+
+033218 #At the Earth's Core#
+
+046326 #Back to the Stone Age#
+
+056523 #Beyond the Farthest Star#
+
+218024 #Eternal Savages#
+
+469973 #Land of Terror#
+
+470120 #Land of Hidden Men#
+
+514026 #The Mad King#
+
+535880 #Monster Men#
+
+645101 #Outlaw of Torn#
+
+658526 #Pellucidar#
+
+659425 #People That Time Forgot#
+
+751321 #Savage Pellucidar#
+
+797928 #Tanar of Pellucidar#
+
+901918 #The Wizard of Venus#
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         15A
+
+
+The World's Best Award-Winning Science Fiction Comes from Ace
+
+029363 #Armageddon 2419 A.D.# Nowlan 75c
+
+061770 #The Big Show# Laumer 75c
+
+067017 #The Black Star Passes# Campbell 75c
+
+371005 #Interplanetary Hunter# Barnes 95c
+
+516559 #Falling Astronauts# Malzberg 75c
+
+531517 #The Mightiest Machine# Campbell 95c
+
+535708 #The Missionaries# Compton 75c
+
+623801 #The Omega Point# Zebrowski 75c
+
+642405 #Other Days, Other Eyes# Shaw 95c
+
+734384 #Roller Coaster World# Bulmer 75c
+
+951467 #You're All Alone# Leiber 95c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.        11-72-14C
+
+
+ACE SCIENCE FICTION DOUBLES
+
+Two books back-to-back
+
+Just 95c each
+
+009902 #Against Arcturus# Putney
+#Time Thieves# Koontz
+
+066126 #Blackman's Burden# Reynolds
+#Border, Breed Nor Birth# Reynolds
+
+102939 #The Chariots of Ra# Bulmer
+#Earth Strings# Rackham
+
+114512 #In the Alternate Universe# Chandler
+#Into the Coils of Time# Chandler
+
+775254 #Son of the Tree# Vance
+#House of Iszm# Vance
+
+156976 #The Unteleported Man# Dick
+#Dr. Futurity# Dick
+
+158907 #Door Through Space# Bradley
+#Rendezvous on a Lost World# Chandler
+
+166405 #Dragon Master#
+#Five Gold Bands# Vance
+
+317552 #The Hard Way Up# Chandler
+#Veiled World# Lory
+
+337105 #Highwood# Barrett
+#Annihilation Factor# Bayley
+
+370627 #The Inheritors# Chandler
+#The Gateway to Never# Chandler
+
+665257 #Pirates of Zan# Leinster
+#Mutant Weapon# Leinster
+
+799759 #Technos#
+#A Scatter of Sardust# Tubb
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15¢ handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         12-72-8C
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester del Rey
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BADGE OF INFAMY ***
+
+***** This file should be named 19471-8.txt or 19471-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/4/7/19471/
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner, Greg Weeks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/19471-8.zip b/19471-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9e78700
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471-8.zip
diff --git a/19471-h.zip b/19471-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..257a34a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471-h.zip
diff --git a/19471-h/19471-h.htm b/19471-h/19471-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4447dd4
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471-h/19471-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,5648 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml">
+  <head>
+    <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" />
+    <title>
+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester Del Rey.
+    </title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    .pagenum  { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */
+            /*  visibility: hidden;  */
+                position: absolute;
+                left: 92%;
+                font-size: smaller;
+                text-align: right;
+              } /* page numbers */
+    .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;}
+
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+
+
+    ins.correction {  text-decoration: none;
+        border-bottom: thin dotted gray;    }
+    .tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em;
+         background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: solid black 1px;}
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+  </head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester del Rey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Badge of Infamy
+
+Author: Lester del Rey
+
+Release Date: October 5, 2006 [EBook #19471]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BADGE OF INFAMY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner, Greg Weeks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<p class='tr center'>Transcriber's Note:<br />
+This etext was produced from an Ace Books paperback, 1973. Extensive research
+did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication
+was renewed.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="600" height="1025" alt="BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+LESTER DEL REY
+
+EARTHMEN BECOMING MARTIANS" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>The computer seemed to work as it should. The speed
+was within acceptable limits. He gave up trying to see
+the ground and was forced to trust the machinery designed
+for amateur pilots. The flare bloomed, and he
+yanked down on the little lever.</p>
+
+<p>It could have been worse. They hit the ground,
+bounced twice, and turned over. The ship was a mess
+when Feldman freed himself from the elastic straps of
+the seat. Chris had shrieked as they hit, but she was
+unbuckling herself now.</p>
+
+<p>He threw her her spacesuit and one of the emergency
+bottles of oxygen from the rack. "Hurry up with that.
+We've sprung a leak and the pressure's dropping."</p></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 25%;' />
+
+<p class='center'>Turn this book over for a second complete novel.<br />
+[Transcriber's Note: The second novel is not present in this etext.]</p>
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h1>BADGE OF<br />
+INFAMY</h1>
+
+<h2>By<br />
+LESTER DEL REY</h2>
+
+
+
+<p class='center'><br /><br />
+ace books<br />
+A Division of Charter Communications Inc.<br />
+1120 Avenue of the Americas<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>BADGE OF INFAMY</h2>
+
+<p class='center'>
+Copyright &copy; 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.<br />
+Copyright &copy; 1957 by Renown Publications, Inc.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p class='center'>A shorter and earlier version of this story appeared in
+<i>Satellite Science Fiction</i> for June, 1957.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p class='center'><i>First Ace printing: January, 1973</i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p class='center'>
+THE SKY IS FALLING<br />
+Copyright &copy; 1954, 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p class='center'>Printed in U.S.A.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="I" id="I"></a>I</h2>
+
+<h3>Pariah</h3>
+
+
+<p>The air of the city's cheapest flophouse was thick with
+the smells of harsh antiseptic and unwashed bodies. The
+early Christmas snowstorm had driven in every bum
+who could steal or beg the price of admission, and the
+long rows of cots were filled with fully clothed figures.
+Those who could afford the extra dime were huddled
+under thin, grimy blankets.</p>
+
+<p>The pariah who had been Dr. Daniel Feldman enjoyed
+no such luxury. He tossed fitfully on a bare cot, bringing
+his face into the dim light. It had been a handsome
+face, but now the black stubble of beard lay over gaunt
+features and sunken cheeks. He looked ten years older
+than his scant thirty-two, and there <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'was'.">were</ins> the beginnings
+of a snarl at the corners of his mouth. Clothes that had
+once been expensive were wrinkled and covered with
+grime that no amount of cleaning could remove. His
+tall, thin body was awkwardly curled up in a vain effort
+to conserve heat and one of his hands instinctively
+clutched at his tiny bag of possessions.</p>
+
+<p>He stirred again, and suddenly jerked upright with a
+protest already forming on his lips. The ugly surroundings
+registered on his eyes, and he stared suspiciously
+at the other cots. But there was no sign that anyone had
+been trying to rob him of his bindle or the precious
+bag of cheap tobacco.</p>
+
+<p>He started to relax back onto the couch when a sound
+caught his attention, even over the snoring of the others.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span>
+It was a low wail, the sound of a man who can no longer
+control himself.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman swung to the cot on his left as the moan
+hacked off. The man there was well fed and clean-shaven,
+but his face was gray with sickness. He was
+writhing and clutching his stomach, arching his back
+against the misery inside him.</p>
+
+<p>"Space-stomach?" Feldman diagnosed.</p>
+
+<p>He had no need of the weak answering nod. He'd
+treated such cases several times in the past. The disease
+was usually caused by the absence of gravity out in
+space, but it could be brought on later from abuse of
+the weakened internal organs, such as the intake of too
+much bad liquor. The man must have been frequenting
+the wrong space-front bars.</p>
+
+<p>Now he was obviously dying. Violent peristaltic contractions
+seemed to be tearing the intestines out of him,
+and the paroxysms were coming faster. His eyes darted
+to Feldman's tobacco sack and there was animal appeal
+in them.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman hesitated, then reluctantly rolled a smoke. He
+held the cigarette while the spaceman took a long, gasping
+drag on it. He smoked the remainder himself, letting
+the harsh tobacco burn against his lungs and sicken
+his empty stomach. Then he shrugged and threaded his
+way through the narrow aisles toward the attendant.</p>
+
+<p>"Better get a doctor," he said bitterly, when the young
+punk looked up at him. "You've got a man dying of
+space-stomach on 214."</p>
+
+<p>The sneer on the kid's face deepened. "Yeah? We
+don't pay for doctors every time some wino wants to
+throw up. Forget it and get back where you belong,
+bo."</p>
+
+<p>"You'll have a corpse on your hands in an hour,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+Feldman insisted. "I know space-stomach, damn it."</p>
+
+<p>The kid turned back to his lottery sheet. "Go treat
+yourself if you wanta play doctor. Go on, scram&mdash;before
+I toss you out in the snow!"</p>
+
+<p>One of Feldman's white-knuckled hands reached for
+the attendant. Then he caught himself. He started to
+turn back, hesitated, and finally faced the kid again.
+"I'm not fooling. And I <i>was</i> a doctor," he stated. "My
+name is Daniel Feldman."</p>
+
+<p>The attendant nodded absently, until the words finally
+penetrated. He looked up, studied Feldman with surprised
+curiosity and growing contempt, and reached for
+the phone. "Gimme Medical Directory," he muttered.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman felt the kid's eyes on his back as he stumbled
+through the aisles to his cot again. He slumped down,
+rolling another cigarette in hands that shook. The sick
+man was approaching delirium now, and the moans were
+mixed with weak whining sounds of fear. Other men
+had wakened and were watching, but nobody made a
+move to help.</p>
+
+<p>The retching and writhing of the sick man had begun
+to weaken, but it was still not too late to save him.
+Hot water and skillful massage could interrupt the paroxysms.
+In fifteen minutes, Feldman could have stopped
+the attack completely.</p>
+
+<p>He found his feet on the floor and his hands already
+reaching out. Savagely he pulled himself back. Sure, he
+could save the man&mdash;and wind up in the gas chamber!
+There'd be no mercy for his second offense against
+Lobby laws. If the spaceman lived, Feldman might get
+off with a flogging&mdash;that was standard punishment for
+a pariah who stepped out of line. But with his luck,
+there would be a heart arrest and another juicy story
+for the papers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Idealism! The Medical Lobby made a lot out of the
+word. But it wasn't for him. A pariah had no business
+thinking of others.</p>
+
+<p>As Feldman sat there staring, the spaceman grew
+quieter. Sometimes, even at this stage, massage could
+help. It was harder without liberal supplies of hot water,
+but the massage was the really important treatment. It
+was the trembling of Feldman's hands that stopped him.
+He no longer had the strength or the certainty to make
+the massage effective.</p>
+
+<p>He was glaring at his hands in self-disgust when the
+legal doctor arrived. The man was old and tired. Probably
+he had been another idealist who had wound up
+defeated, content to leave things up to the established
+procedures of the Medical Lobby. He looked it as he
+bent over the dying man.</p>
+
+<p>The doctor turned back at last to the attendant. "Too
+late. The best I can do is ease his pain. The call should
+have been made half an hour earlier."</p>
+
+<p>He had obviously never handled space-stomach before.
+He administered a hypo that probably held narconal.
+Feldman watched, his guts tightening sympathetically
+for the shock that would be to the sick man. But
+at least it would shorten his sufferings. The final seizure
+lasted only a minute or so.</p>
+
+<p>"Hopeless," the doctor said. His eyes were clouded
+for a moment, and then he shrugged. "Well, I'll make
+out a death certificate. Anyone here know his name?"</p>
+
+<p>His eyes swung about the cots until they came to rest
+on Feldman. He frowned, and a twisted smile curved
+his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Feldman, isn't it? You still look something like your
+pictures. Do you know the deceased?"</p>
+
+<p>Feldman shook his head bitterly. "No. I don't know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span>
+his name. I don't even know why he wasn't cyanotic at
+the end, <i>if</i> it was space-stomach. Do you, doctor?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man threw a startled glance at the corpse.
+Then he shrugged and nodded to the attendant. "Well,
+go through his things. If he still has a space ticket, I
+can get his name from that."</p>
+
+<p>The kid began pawing through the bag that had fallen
+from the cot. He dragged out a pair of shoes, half a
+bottle of cheap rum, a wallet and a bronze space ticket.
+He wasn't quick enough with the wallet, and the doctor
+took it from him.</p>
+
+<p>"Medical Lobby authorization. If he has any money,
+it covers my fee and the rest goes to his own Lobby."
+There were several bills, all of large denominations. He
+turned the ticket over and began filling in the death
+certificate. "Arthur Billings. Space Lobby. Crewman.
+Cause of death, <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'ideopathic gastroentiritis'.">idiopathic gastroenteritis</ins> <i>and</i> delirium
+tremens."</p>
+
+<p>There had been no evidence of delirium tremens, but
+apparently the doctor felt he had scored a point. He
+tossed the space ticket toward the shoes, closed his bag,
+and prepared to leave.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, doc!" The attendant's voice was indignant.
+"Hey, what about my reporting fee?"</p>
+
+<p>The doctor stopped. He glanced at the kid, then toward
+Feldman, his face a mixture of speculation and
+dislike. He took a dollar bill from the wallet. "That's
+right," he admitted. "The fee for reporting a solvent
+case. Medical Lobby rules apply&mdash;even to a man who
+breaks them."</p>
+
+<p>The kid's hand was out, but the doctor dropped the
+dollar onto Feldman's cot. "There's your fee, pariah."
+He left, forcing the protesting attendant to precede him.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman reached for the bill. It was blood money for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>
+letting a man die&mdash;but it meant cigarettes and food&mdash;or
+shelter for another night, if he could get a mission meal.
+He no longer could afford pride. Grimly, he pocketed
+the bill, staring at the face of the dead man. It looked
+back sightlessly, now showing a faint speckling of tiny
+dots. They caught Feldman's eyes, and he bent closer.
+There should be no black dots on the skin of a man
+who died of space-stomach. And there should have been
+cyanosis....</p>
+
+<p>He swore and bent down to find the wrecks of his
+shoes. He couldn't worry about anything now but getting
+away from here before the attendant made trouble.
+His eyes rested on the shoes of the dead man&mdash;sturdy
+boots that would last for another year. They could do
+the corpse no good; someone else would steal them if he
+didn't. But he hesitated, cursing himself.</p>
+
+<p>The right boot fitted better than he could have expected,
+but something got in the way as he tried to put
+the left one on. His fingers found the bronze ticket. He
+turned it over, considering it. He wasn't ready to fraud
+his identity for what he'd heard of life on the spaceships,
+yet. But he shoved it into his pocket and finished
+lacing the boots.</p>
+
+<p>Outside, the snow was still falling, but it had turned
+to slush, and the sidewalk was soggy underfoot. There
+was going to be no work shoveling snow, he realized.
+This would melt before the day was over. Feldman
+hunched the suitcoat up, shivering as the cold bit into
+him. The boots felt good, though; if he'd had socks,
+they would have been completely comfortable.</p>
+
+<p>He passed a cheap restaurant, and the smell of the
+synthetics set his stomach churning. It had been two
+days since his last real meal, and the dollar burned in
+his pocket. But he had to wait. There was a fair chance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span>
+this early that he could scavenge something edible.</p>
+
+<p>He shuffled on. After a while, the cold bothered him
+less, and he passed through the hunger spell. He rolled
+another smoke and sucked at it, hardly thinking. It was
+better that way.</p>
+
+<p>It was much later when the big caduceus set into the
+sidewalk snapped him back to awareness of where he'd
+traveled. His undirected feet had led him much too far
+uptown, following old habits. This was the Medical
+Lobby building, where he'd spent more than enough
+time, including three weeks in custody before they
+stripped him of all rank and status.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes wandered to the ornate entrance where he'd
+first emerged as a pariah. He'd meant to walk down
+those steps as if he were still a man. But each step had
+drained his resolution, until he'd finally covered his face
+and slunk off, knowing himself for what the world had
+branded him.</p>
+
+<p>He stood there now, staring at the smug young medical
+politicians and the tired old general practitioners
+filing in and out. One of the latter halted, fumbled in
+his pocket and drew out a quarter.</p>
+
+<p>"Merry Christmas!" he said dully.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman fingered the coin. Then he saw a gray Medical
+policeman watching him, and he knew it was time
+to move on. Sooner or later, someone would recognize
+him here.</p>
+
+<p>He clutched the quarter and turned to look for a coffee
+shop that sold the synthetics to which his metabolism
+had been switched. No shop would serve him here,
+but he could buy coffee and a piece of cake to take out.</p>
+
+<p>A flurry of motion registered from the corner of his
+eye, and he glanced back.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Taxi! Taxi!"</p>
+
+<p>The girl rushing down the steps had a clear soprano
+voice, cultured and commanding. The gray Medical uniform
+seemed molded to her shapely figure and her red
+hair glistened in the lights of the street. Her snub nose
+and determined mouth weren't the current fashion, but
+nobody stopped to think of fashions when they saw her.
+She didn't have to be the daughter of the president of
+Medical Lobby to rule.</p>
+
+<p>It was Chris&mdash;Chris Feldman once, and now Chris
+Ryan again.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman swung toward a cab. For a moment, his attitude
+was automatic and assured, and the cab stopped
+before the driver noticed his clothes. He picked up the
+bag Chris dropped and swung it onto the front seat.
+She was fumbling in her change purse as he turned back
+to shut the door.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, my good man," she said. She could be
+gracious, even to a pariah, when his homage suited her.
+She dropped two quarters into his hand, raising her eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Recognition flowed into them, followed by icy shock.
+She yanked the cab door shut and shouted something to
+the driver. The cab took off with a rush that left Feldman
+in a backwash of slush and mud.</p>
+
+<p>He glanced down at the coins in his hand. It was his
+lucky day, he thought bitterly.</p>
+
+<p>He moved across the street and away, not bothering
+about the squeal of brakes and the honking horns. He
+looked back only once, toward the glowing sign that
+topped the building. <i>Your health is our business!</i> Then
+the great symbol of the health business faded behind
+him, and he stumbled on, sucking incessantly at the
+cigarettes he rolled. One hand clutched the bronze<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span>
+badge belonging to the dead man and his stolen boots
+drove onward through the melting snow.</p>
+
+<p>It was Christmas in the year 2100 on the protectorate
+of Earth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="II" id="II"></a>II</h2>
+
+<h3>Lobby</h3>
+
+
+<p>Feldman had set his legs the problem of heading for
+the great spaceport and escape from Earth, and he let
+them take him without further guidance. His mind was
+wrapped up in a whirl of the past&mdash;his past and that of
+the whole planet. Both pasts had in common the growth
+and sudden ruin of idealism.</p>
+
+<p>Idealism! Throughout history, some men had sought
+the ideal, and most had called it freedom. Only fools expected
+absolute freedom, but wise men dreamed up
+many systems of relative freedom, including democracy.
+They had tried that in America, as the last fling
+of the dream. It had been a good attempt, too.</p>
+
+<p>The men who drew the Constitution had been pretty
+practical dreamers. They came to their task after a bitter
+war and a worse period of wild chaos, and they had
+learned where idealism stopped and idiocy began. They
+set up a republic with all the elements of democracy
+that they considered safe. It had worked well enough
+to make America the number one power of the world.
+But the men who followed the framers of the new plan
+were a different sort, without the knowledge of practical
+limits.</p>
+
+<p>The privileges their ancestors had earned in blood
+and care became automatic rights. Practical men tried
+to explain that there were no such rights&mdash;that each generation
+had to pay for its rights with responsibility. That<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span>
+kind of talk didn't get far. People wanted to hear about
+rights, not about duties.</p>
+
+<p>They took the phrase that all men were created equal
+and left out the implied kicker that equality was in the
+sight of God and before the law. They wanted an equality
+with the greatest men without giving up their drive
+toward mediocrity, and they meant to have it. In a way,
+they got it.</p>
+
+<p>They got the vote extended to everyone. The man
+on subsidy or public dole could vote to demand more.
+The man who read of nothing beyond sex crimes could
+vote on the great political issues of the world. No ability
+was needed for his vote. In fact, he was assured
+that voting alone was enough to make him a fine and
+noble citizen. He loved that, if he bothered to vote at
+all that year. He became a great man by listing his unthought,
+hungry desire for someone to take care of him
+without responsibility. So he went out and voted for
+the man who promised him most, or who looked most
+like what his limited dreams felt to be a father image or
+son image or hero image. He never bothered later to
+see how the men he'd elected had handled the jobs he
+had given them.</p>
+
+<p>Someone had to look, of course, and someone did. Organized
+special interests stepped in where the mob had
+failed. Lobbies grew up. There had always been pressure
+groups, but now they developed into a third arm
+of the government.</p>
+
+<p>The old Farm Lobby was unbeatable. The big farmers
+shaped the laws they wanted. They convinced the
+little farmers it was for the good of all, and they made
+the story stick well enough to swing the farm vote.
+They made the laws when it came to food and crops.</p>
+
+<p>The last of the great lobbies was Space, probably. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span>
+was an accident that grew up so fast it never even knew
+it wasn't a real part of the government. It developed
+during a period of chaos when another country called
+Russia got the first hunk of metal above the atmosphere
+and when the representatives who had been picked for
+everything but their grasp of science and government
+went into panic over a myth of national prestige.</p>
+
+<p>The space effort was turned over to the aircraft industry,
+which had never been able to manage itself successfully
+except under the stimulus of war or a threat
+of war. The failing airplane industry became the space
+combine overnight, and nobody kept track of how big
+it was, except a few sharp operators.</p>
+
+<p>They worked out a system of subcontracts that spread
+the profits so wide that hardly a company of any size in
+the country wasn't getting a share. Thus a lot of patriotic,
+noble voters got their pay from companies in the
+lobby block and could be panicked by the lobby at the
+first mention of recession.</p>
+
+<p>So Space Lobby took over completely in its own field.
+It developed enough pressure to get whatever appropriations
+it wanted, even over Presidential veto. It created
+the only space experts, which meant that the men placed
+in government agencies to regulate it came from its own
+ranks.</p>
+
+<p>The other lobbies learned a lot from Space.</p>
+
+<p>There had been a medical lobby long before, but it
+had been a conservative group, mostly concerned with
+protecting medical autonomy and ethics. It also tried to
+prevent government control of treatment and payment,
+feeling that it couldn't trust the people to know where
+to stop. But its history was a long series of retreats.</p>
+
+<p>It fought what it called socialized medicine. But the
+people wanted their troubles handled free&mdash;which meant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>
+by government spending, since that could be added to
+the national debt, and thus didn't seem to cost anything.
+It lost, and eventually the government paid most medical
+costs, with doctors working on a fixed fee. Then
+quantity of treatment paid, rather than quality. Competence
+no longer mattered so much. The Lobby lost,
+but didn't know it&mdash;because the lowered standards of
+competence in the profession lowered the caliber of
+men running the political aspects of that profession as
+exemplified by the Lobby.</p>
+
+<p>It took a world-wide plague to turn the tide. The
+plague began in old China; anything could start there,
+with more than a billion people huddled in one area
+and a few madmen planning to conquer the world. It
+might have been a laboratory mutation, but nobody
+could ever prove it.</p>
+
+<p>It wiped out two billion people, depopulated Africa
+and most of Asia, and wrecked Europe, leaving only
+America comparatively safe to take over. An obscure
+scientist in one of the laboratories run by the Medical
+Lobby found a cure before the first waves of the epidemic
+hit America. Rutherford Ryan, then head of the
+Lobby, made sure that Medical Lobby got all the credit.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the world recovered, America ran it and
+the Medical Lobby was untouchable. Ryan made a deal
+with Space Lobby, and the two effectively ran the
+world. None of the smaller lobbies could buck them,
+and neither could the government.</p>
+
+<p>There was still a president and a congress, as there
+had been a Senate under the Roman Caesars. But the
+two Lobbies ran themselves as they chose. The real
+government had become a kind of oligarchy, as it always
+did after too much false democracy ruined the
+ideals of real and practical self-rule. A man belonged to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>
+his Lobby, just as a serf had belonged to his feudal landlord.</p>
+
+<p>It was a safe world now. Maybe progress had been
+halted at about the level of 1980, but so long as the citizens
+didn't break the rules of their lobbies, they had
+very little to worry about. For that, for security and the
+right not to think, most people were willing to leave
+well enough alone.</p>
+
+<p>Some rules seemed harsh, of course, such as the law
+that all operations had to be performed in Lobby hospitals.
+But that could be justified; it was the only safe
+kind of surgery and the only way to make sure there
+was no unsupervised experimentation, such as that which
+supposedly caused the plague. The rule was now an absolute
+ethic of medicine. It also made for better fees.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman's father had stuck by the rule but had questioned
+it. Feldman learned not to question in medical
+school. He scored second in Medical Ethics only to
+Christina Ryan.</p>
+
+<p>He had never figured why she singled him out for her
+attentions, but he gloried in both those attentions and
+the results. He became automatically a rising young
+man, the favorite of the daughter of the Lobby president.
+He went through internship without a sign of
+trouble. Chris humored him in his desire to spend three
+years of practice in a poor section loaded with disease,
+and her father approved; such selfless dedication was
+the perfect image projection for a future son-in-law. In
+return, he agreed to follow that period by becoming
+an administrator. A doctor's doctor, as they put it.</p>
+
+<p>They were married in April and his office was ready
+in May, complete with a staff of eighty. The publicity
+releases had gone out, and the Public Relations Lobby
+that handled news and education was paid to begin the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span>
+greatest build-up any young genius ever had.</p>
+
+<p>They celebrated that, with a little party of some four
+hundred people and reporters at Ryan's lodge in Canada.
+It was to be a gala weekend.</p>
+
+<p>It was then that Baxter shot himself.</p>
+
+<p>Baxter had been Feldman's closest friend in the Lobby.
+He'd come along to handle press relations and had gotten
+romantic about the countryside, never having been
+out of a city before. He hired a guide and went hunting,
+eighty miles beyond the last outpost of civilization.
+Somehow, he got his hand on a gun, though only guides
+were supposed to touch them, managed to overcome its
+safety devices, and then pulled the trigger with the gun
+pointed the wrong way.</p>
+
+<p>Chris, Feldman and Harnett from Public Relations
+had accompanied him on the trip. They were sitting in
+a nearby car while Feldman enjoyed the scenery, Chris
+made further plans, and Harnett gathered material.
+There was also a photographer and writer, but they
+hadn't been introduced by name.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman reached Baxter first. The man was moaning
+and scared, and he was bleeding profusely. Only a miracle
+had saved him from instant death. The bullet had
+struck a rib, been deflected and robbed of some of its
+energy, and had barely reached the heart. But it had
+pierced the pericardium, as best Feldman could guess,
+and it could be fatal at any moment.</p>
+
+<p>He'd reached for a probe without thinking. Chris
+knocked his hand aside.</p>
+
+<p>She was right, of course. He couldn't operate outside
+a hospital. But they had no phone in the lodge where
+the guide lived and no way to summon an ambulance.
+They'd have to drive Baxter back in the car, which
+would almost certainly result in his death.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When Feldman seemed uncertain, Harnett had given
+his warning in a low but vehement voice. "You touch
+him, Dan, and I'll spread it in every one of our media.
+I'll have to. It's the only way to retain public confidence.
+There'd be a leak, with all the guides and others here,
+and we can't afford that. I like you&mdash;you have color. But
+touch that wound and I'll crucify you."</p>
+
+<p>Chris added her own threats. She'd spent years making
+him the outlet for all her ambitions, denied because
+women were still only second-rate members of Medical
+Lobby. She couldn't let it go now. And she was
+probably genuinely shocked.</p>
+
+<p>Baxter groaned again and started to bleed more profusely.</p>
+
+<p>There wasn't much equipment. Feldman operated with
+a pocketknife sterilized in a bottle of expensive Scotch
+and only anodyne tablets in place of anesthesia. He got
+the bullet out and sewed up the wound with a bit of
+surgical thread he'd been using to tie up a torn good-luck
+emblem. The photographer and writer recorded
+the whole thing. Chris swore harshly and beat her fists
+against the bole of a tree. But Baxter lived. He recovered
+completely, and was shocked at the heinous thing
+that had been done to him.</p>
+
+<p>They crucified Feldman.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="III" id="III"></a>III</h2>
+
+<h3>Spaceman</h3>
+
+
+<p>Most crewmen lived rough, ugly lives&mdash;and usually,
+short ones. Passengers and officers on the big tubs were
+given the equivalent of gravity in spinning compartments,
+but the crews rode "free". The lucky crewmen
+lived through their accidents, got space-stomach now
+and then, and recovered. Nobody cared about the
+others.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman's ticket was work-stamped for the <i>Navaho</i>,
+and nobody questioned his identity. He suffered through
+the agony of acceleration on the shuttle up to the orbital
+station, then was sick as acceleration stopped. But
+he was able to control himself enough to follow other
+crewmen down a hall of the station toward the <i>Navaho</i>.
+The big ships never touched a planet, always docking
+at the stations.</p>
+
+<p>A checker met the crew and reached for their badges.
+He barely glanced at them, punched a mark for each
+on his checkoff sheet, and handed them back. "Deckmen
+forward, tubemen to the rear," he ordered. "<i>Navaho</i>
+blasts in fifteen minutes. Hey, you! You're tubes."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman grunted. He should have expected it. Tubemen
+had the lowest lot of all the crew. Between the
+killing work, the heat of the tubes, and occasional doses
+of radiation, their lives weren't worth the metal value
+of their tickets.</p>
+
+<p>He began pulling himself clumsily along a shaft, dodg<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span>ing
+freight the loaders were tossing from hand to hand.
+A bag hit his head, drawing blood, and another caught
+him in the groin.</p>
+
+<p>"Watch it, bo," a loader yelled at him. "You dent that
+bag and they'll brig you. Cantcha see it's got a special
+courtesy stripe?"</p>
+
+<p>It had a brilliant green stripe, he saw. It also had a
+name, printed in block letters that shouted their identity
+before he could read the words. <i>Dr. Christina Ryan,
+Southport, Mars.</i></p>
+
+<p>And he'd had to choose this time to leave Earth!</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly he was glad he was assigned to the tubes. It
+was the one place on the ship where he'd be least likely
+to run into her. As a doctor and a courtesy passenger,
+she'd have complete run of the ship, but she'd hardly
+bother with the dangerous and unpleasant tube section.</p>
+
+<p>He dragged his way back, beginning to sweat with
+the effort. The <i>Navaho</i> was an old ship. A lot of the
+handholds were missing, and he had to throw himself
+along by erratic leaps. He was gaining proficiency, but
+not enough to handle himself if the ship blasted off.
+Time was growing short when he reached the aft bunkroom
+where the other tubemen were waiting.</p>
+
+<p>"Ben," one husky introduced himself. "Tube chief.
+Know how to work this?"</p>
+
+<p>Feldman could see that they were assembling a small
+still. He'd heard of the phenomenal quantities of beer
+spacemen drank, and now he realized what really happened
+to it. Hard liquor was supposed to be forbidden,
+but they made their own. "I can work it," he decided.
+"I'm&mdash;uh&mdash;Dan."</p>
+
+<p>"Okay, Dan." Ben glanced at the clock. "Hit the
+sacks, boys."</p>
+
+<p>By the time Feldman could settle into the sacklike<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span>
+hammock, the <i>Navaho</i> began to shake faintly, and
+weight piled up. It was mild compared to that on the
+shuttle, since the big ships couldn't take high acceleration.
+Space had been conquered for more than a century,
+but the ships were still flimsy tubs that took months to
+reach Mars, using immense amounts of fuel. Only the
+valuable plant hormones from Mars made commerce
+possible at the ridiculously high freight rate.</p>
+
+<p>Three hours later he began to find out why spacemen
+didn't seem to fear dying or turning pariah. The tube
+quarters had grown insufferably hot during the long
+blast, but the main tube-room was blistering as Ben led
+the men into it. The chief handed out spacesuits and
+motioned for Dan.</p>
+
+<p>"Greenhorn, aincha? Okay, I'll take you with me. We
+go out in the tubes and pull the lining. I pry up the
+stuff, you carry it back here and stack it."</p>
+
+<p>They sealed off the tube-room, pumped out the air,
+and went into the steaming, mildly radioactive tubes,
+just big enough for a man on hands and knees. Beyond
+the tube mouth was empty space, waiting for the man
+who slipped. Ben began ripping out the eroded blocks
+with a special tool. Feldman carried them back and
+stacked them along with others. A plasma furnace
+melted them down into new blocks. The work grew
+progressively worse as the distance to the tube-room
+increased. The tube mouth yawned closer and closer.
+There were no handholds there&mdash;only the friction of a
+man's body in the tube.</p>
+
+<p>Life settled into a dull routine of labor, sleep, and the
+brief relief of the crude white mule from the still.</p>
+
+<p>They were six weeks out and almost finished with
+the tube cleaning when Number Two tube blew. Bits
+of the remaining radioactive fuel must have collected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span>
+slowly until they reached blow-point. Feldman in Number
+One would have gone sailing out into space, but
+Ben reacted at once. As the ship leaped slightly, Feldman
+brought up sharply against the chief's braced body.
+For a second their fate hung in the balance. Then it was
+over, and Ben shoved him back, grinning faintly.</p>
+
+<p>He jerked his thumb and touched helmets briefly.
+"There they go, Dan."</p>
+
+<p>The two men who had been working in Number
+Two were charred lumps, drifting out into space.</p>
+
+<p>No further comment was made on it, except that
+they'd have to work harder from now on, since they
+were shorthanded.</p>
+
+<p>That rest period Feldman came down with a mild
+attack of space-stomach&mdash;which meant no more drinking
+for him&mdash;and was off work for a day. Then the
+pace picked up. The tubes were cleared and they began
+laying the new lining for the landing blasts. There
+was no time for thought after that. Mars' orbital station
+lay close when the work was finished.</p>
+
+<p>Ben slapped Feldman on the back. "Ya ain't bad for
+a greenie, Dan. We all get six-day passes on Mars. Hit
+the sack now so you won't waste time sleeping then.
+We'll hear it when the ship berths."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman didn't hear it, but the others did. He felt
+Ben shaking his shoulder, trying to drag him out of
+the sack. "Grab your junk, Dan."</p>
+
+<p>Ben picked up Feldman's nearly empty bag and
+tossed it toward him, before his eyes were fully open.
+He grabbed for it and missed. He grabbed again, with
+Ben's laughter in his ears. The bag hit the wall and
+fell open, spilling its contents.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman began gathering it up, but the chief was no
+longer laughing. A big hand grabbed up the space<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span>
+ticket suddenly, and there was no friendliness now on
+Ben's face.</p>
+
+<p>"Art Billing's card!" Ben told the other tubemen.
+"Five trips I made with Art. He was saving his money,
+going to buy a farm on Mars. Five trips and one more
+to go before he had enough. Now you show up with
+his ticket!"</p>
+
+<p>The tubemen moved forward toward Feldman. There
+was no indecision. To them, apparently, trial had been
+held and sentence passed.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait a minute," Feldman began. "Billings died of&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>A fist snaked past his raised hand and connected with
+his jaw. He bounced off a wall. A wrench sailed toward
+him, glanced off his arm, and ripped at his muscles. Another
+heavy fist struck.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly, Ben's voice cut through their yells. "Hold
+it!" He shoved through the group, tossing men backwards.
+"Stow it! We can take care of him later. Right
+now, this is captain's business. You fools want to lose
+your leave?" He indicated two of the others. "You two
+bring him along&mdash;and keep him quiet!"</p>
+
+<p>The two grabbed Feldman's arms and dragged him
+along as the chief began pulling his way forward
+through the tubes up towards the control section of the
+ship. Feldman took a quick glance at their faces and
+made no effort to resist; they obviously would have enjoyed
+any chance to subdue him.</p>
+
+<p>They were stopped twice by minor officers, then sent
+on. They finally found the captain near the exit lock,
+apparently assisting the passengers to leave. Most of
+them went on into the shuttle, but Chris Ryan remained
+behind as the captain listened to Ben's report
+and inspected the false ticket.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Finally the captain turned to Feldman. "You. What's
+your name?"</p>
+
+<p>Chris' eyes were squarely on Feldman, cold and furious.
+"He <i>was</i> Doctor Daniel Feldman, Captain Marker,"
+she stated.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman stood paralyzed. He'd been unwilling to face
+Chris. He wanted to avoid all the past. But the idea
+that she would denounce him had never entered his
+head. There was no Medical rule involved. She knew
+that as a pariah he was forbidden to board a passenger
+ship, of course. But she'd been his wife once!</p>
+
+<p>Marker bowed slightly to her. "Thank you, Dr. Ryan.
+I should take this criminal back to Earth in chains, I
+suppose. But he's hardly worth the freightage. You men.
+Want to take him down to Mars and ground him there?"</p>
+
+<p>Ben grinned and touched his forelock. "Thank you,
+sir. We'd enjoy that."</p>
+
+<p>"Good. His pay reverts to the ship's fund. That's all,
+men."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman started to protest, but a fist lashed savagely
+against his mouth.</p>
+
+<p>He made no other protests as they dragged him into
+the crew shuttle that took off for Southport. He avoided
+their eyes and sat hunched over. It was Ben who finally
+broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p>"What happened to Art's money? He had a pile on
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Go to hell!"</p>
+
+<p>"Give, I said!" Ben twisted his arm back toward his
+shoulder, applying increasing pressure.</p>
+
+<p>"A doctor took it for his fee when Billings died of
+space-stomach. Damn you, I couldn't help him!"</p>
+
+<p>Ben looked at the others. "Med Lobby fee, eh? All
+the market will take. Umm. It could be, maybe." He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>
+shrugged. "Okay, reasonable doubt. We won't kill you,
+bo. Not quite, we won't."</p>
+
+<p>The shuttle landed and Ben handed out the little helmets
+and aspirators that made life possible in Mars'
+thin air. Outside, the tubemen took turns holding Feldman
+and beating him while the passengers disembarked
+from their shuttle. As he slumped into unconsciousness,
+he had a picture of Chris Ryan's frozen face as she
+moved steadily toward the port station.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IV" id="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+
+<h3>Martian</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was night when Feldman came to, and the temperature
+was dropping rapidly. He struggled to sit up
+through a fog of pain. Somewhere in his bag, he should
+have an anodyne tablet that would kill any ache. He
+finally found the pill and swallowed it, fumbling with
+the aspirator lip opening.</p>
+
+<p>The aspirator meant life to him now, he suddenly realized.
+He twisted to stare at the tiny charge-indicator
+for the battery. It showed half-charge. Then he saw that
+someone had attached another battery beside it. He puzzled
+briefly over it, but his immediate concern was for
+shelter.</p>
+
+<p>Apparently he was still where he had been knocked
+out. There was a light coming from the little station,
+and he headed toward that, fumbling for the few quarters
+that represented his entire fortune.</p>
+
+<p>Maybe it would have been better if the tubemen had
+killed him. Batteries were an absolute necessity here,
+food and shelter would be expensive, and he had no
+skills to earn his way. At most, he had only a day or so
+left. But meantime, he had to find warmth before the
+cold killed him.</p>
+
+<p>The tiny restaurant in the station was still open, and
+the air was warm inside. He pulled off the aspirator,
+shutting off the battery.</p>
+
+<p>The counterman didn't even glance up as he entered.
+Feldman gazed at the printed menu and flinched.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Soup," he ordered. It was the cheapest item he could
+find.</p>
+
+<p>The counterman stared at him, obviously spotting his
+Earth origin. "You adjusted to synthetics?"</p>
+
+<p>Feldman nodded. Earth operated on a mixed diet,
+with synthetics for all who couldn't afford the natural
+foods there. But Mars was all synthetic. Many of the
+chemicals in food could exist in either of two forms, or
+isomers; they were chemically alike, but differently crystallized.
+Sometimes either form was digestible, but frequently
+the body could use only the isomer to which it
+was adjusted.</p>
+
+<p>Martian plants produced different isomers from those
+on Earth. Since the synthetic foods turned out to be
+Mars-normal, that was probably the more natural form.
+Research designed to let the early colonists live off native
+food here had turned up an enzyme that enabled
+the body to handle either isomer. In a few weeks of eating
+Martian or synthetic food, the body adapted; without
+more enzyme, it lost its power to handle Earth-normal
+food.</p>
+
+<p>The cheapness of <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'snythetics'.">synthetics</ins> and the discovery that
+many diseases common to Earth would not attack Mars-normal
+bodies led to the wide use of synthetics on
+Earth. No pariah could have been expected to afford
+Earth-normal.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman finished the soup, and found a cigarette
+that was smokable. "Any objections if I sit in the waiting
+room?"</p>
+
+<p>He'd expected a rejection, but the counterman only
+shrugged. The waiting room was almost dark and the
+air was chilly, but there was normal pressure. He found
+a bench and slumped onto it, lighting his cigarette.
+He'd miss the smokes&mdash;but probably not for long. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>
+finished the cigarette reluctantly and sat huddled on the
+bench, waiting for morning.</p>
+
+<p>The airlock opened later, and feet sounded on the
+boards of the waiting-room floor, but he didn't look up
+until a thin beam of light hit him. Then he sighed and
+nodded. The shoes, made of some odd fiber, didn't look
+like those of a cop, but this was Mars. He could see
+only a hulking shadow behind the light.</p>
+
+<p>"You the man who was a medical doctor?" The voice
+was dry and old.</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah," Feldman answered. "Once."</p>
+
+<p>"Good. Thought that space crewman was just lying
+drunk at first. Come along, Doc."</p>
+
+<p>"Why?" It didn't matter, but if they wanted him to
+move on, they'd have to push a little harder.</p>
+
+<p>The light swung up to show the other. He was the
+shade of old leather with a bleached patch of sandy hair
+and the deepest gray eyes Feldman had ever seen. It
+was a face that could have belonged to a country storekeeper
+in New England, with the same hint of dry humor.
+The man was dressed in padded levis and a leather
+jacket of unguessable age. His aspirator seemed worn
+and patched, and one big hand fumbled with it.</p>
+
+<p>"Because we're friends, Doc," the voice drawled at
+him. "Because you might as well come with us as sit
+here. Maybe we have a job for you."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman shrugged and stood up. If the man was a
+Lobby policeman, he was different from the usual kind.
+Nothing could be worse than the present prospects.</p>
+
+<p>They went out through the doors of the waiting room
+toward a rattletrap vehicle. It looked something like a
+cross between a schoolboy's jalopy and a scaled-down
+army tank of former times. The treads were caterpillar
+style, and the stubby body was completely enclosed. A<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span>
+tiny airlock stuck out from the rear.</p>
+
+<p>Two men were inside, both bearded. The old man
+grinned at them. "Mark, Lou, meet Doc Feldman. Sit,
+Doc. I'm Jake Mullens, and you might say we were
+farmers."</p>
+
+<p>The motor started with a wheeze. The tractor swung
+about and began heading away from Southport toward
+the desert dunes. It shook and rattled, but it seemed to
+make good time.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know anything about farming," Feldman protested.</p>
+
+<p>Jake shrugged. "No, of course not. Couple of our
+friends heard about you where a spaceman was getting
+drunk and tipped us off. We know who you are. Here,
+try a bracky?"</p>
+
+<p>Feldman took what seemed to be a cigarette and
+studied it doubtfully. It was coarse and fibrous inside,
+with a thin, hard shell that seemed to be a natural
+growth, as if it had been chopped from some vine. He
+lighted it, not knowing what to expect. Then he
+coughed as the bitter, rancid smoke burned at his throat.
+He started to throw it down, and hesitated. Jake was
+smoking one, and it had killed the craving for tobacco
+almost instantly.</p>
+
+<p>"Some like 'em, most don't," Jake said. "They won't
+hurt you. Look&mdash;see that? Old Martian ruins. Built by
+some race a million years ago. Only half a dozen on
+Mars."</p>
+
+<p>It was only a clump of weathered stone buildings in
+the light from the tractor, and Feldman had seen better
+in the stereo shots. It was interesting only because it
+connected with the legendary Martian race, like the canals
+that showed from space but could not be seen on
+the surface of the planet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Feldman waited for the other to go on, but Jake was
+silent. Finally, he ground out the butt of the weed.
+"Okay, Jake. What do you want with me?"</p>
+
+<p>"Consultation, maybe. Ever hear of herb doctors? I'm
+one of them."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman knew that the Lobby permitted some leniency
+here, due to the scarcity of real medical help.
+There was only one decent hospital at Northport, on
+the opposite side of the planet.</p>
+
+<p>Jake sighed and reached for another bracky weed.
+"Yeah, I'm pretty good with herbs. But I got a sick
+village on my hands and I can't handle it. We can't all
+mortgage our work to pay for a trip to Northport.
+Southport's all messed up while the new she-doctor gets
+her metabolism changed. Maybe the old guy there
+would have helped, but he died a couple months ago.
+So it looks like you're our only hope."</p>
+
+<p>"Then you have no hope," Feldman told him sickly.
+"I'm a pariah, Jake. I can't do a thing for you."</p>
+
+<p>"We heard about your argument with the Lobby.
+News reaches Mars. But these are mighty sick people,
+Doc."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman shook his head. "Better take me back. I'm
+not allowed to practice medicine. The charge would be
+first-degree murder if anything happened."</p>
+
+<p>Lou leaned forward. "Shall I talk to him, Jake?"</p>
+
+<p>The old man grimaced. "Time enough. Let him see
+what we got first."</p>
+
+<p>Sand howled against the windshield and the tractor
+bumped and surged along. Feldman took another of the
+weeds and tried to estimate their course. But he had no
+idea where they were when the tractor finally stopped.
+There was a village of small huts that seemed to be
+merely entrances to living quarters dug under the sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span>face.
+They led him into one and through a tunnel into
+a large room filled with simple cots and the unhappy
+sounds of sick people.</p>
+
+<p>Two women were disconsolately trying to attend to
+the half-dozen sick&mdash;four children and two adults. Their
+faces brightened as they saw Jake, then fell. "Eb and
+Tilda died," they reported.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman looked at the two figures under the sheets
+and whistled. The same black specks he had seen on the
+face of Billings covered the skins of the two old people
+who had died.</p>
+
+<p>"Funny," Jake said slowly. "They didn't quite act like
+the others and they sure died mighty fast. Darn it, I
+had it figured for that stuff in the book. Infantile paralysis.
+How about it, Doc? Sort of like a cold, stiff
+sore neck."</p>
+
+<p>It was clearly polio&mdash;one of the diseases that could attack
+Mars-normal flesh. Feldman nodded at the symptoms,
+staring at the sick kids. He shrugged, finally.
+"There's a cure for it, but I don't have the serum. Neither
+do you, or you wouldn't have brought me here. I
+couldn't help if I wanted to."</p>
+
+<p>"That old book didn't list a cure," Jake told him.
+"But it said the kids didn't have to be crippled. There
+was something about a Kenny treatment. Doc, does the
+stuff really cripple for life?"</p>
+
+<p>Feldman saw one of the boys flinch. He dropped his
+eyes, remembering the Lobby's efficient spy service on
+Earth and wondering what it was like here. But he knew
+the outcome.</p>
+
+<p>"Damn you, Jake!"</p>
+
+<p>Jake chuckled. "Thought you would. We sure appreciate
+it. Just tell us what to do, Doc."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman began writing down his requirements, try<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>ing
+to remember the details of the treatment. Exercise,
+hot compresses, massage. It was coming back to him.
+He'd have to do it himself, of course, to get the feel
+of it. He couldn't explain it well enough. But he couldn't
+turn his back on the kids, either.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I can help," he said doubtfully as he moved
+toward a cot.</p>
+
+<p>"No, Doc." Jake's voice wasn't amused any longer,
+and he held the younger man back. "You're doing us a
+favor, and I'll be darned if I'll let you stick your neck
+out too far. You can't treat 'em yourself. Mars is
+tougher than Earth. You should live under Space Lobby
+<i>and</i> Medical Lobby here a while. Oh, maybe they
+don't mind a few fools like me being herb doctors, but
+they'd sure hate to have a man who can do real medicine
+outside their hands. You let me do it, or get in
+the tractor and I'll have Lou drive you back. Once you
+start in here, there'll be no stopping. Believe me."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman looked at him, seeing the colonials around
+him for the first time as people. It had been a long time
+since he'd been treated as a fellow human by anyone.</p>
+
+<p>Jake was right, he knew. Once he put his hand to the
+bandage, eventually there'd be no turning back from
+the scalpel. These people needed medical help too desperately.
+Eventually, the news would spread, and the
+Lobby police would come for him. Chris couldn't afford
+to shield him. In fact, he was sure now that she'd
+hunt him night and day.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't be a fool, Jake," he ordered brusquely. He
+handed his list to one of the women. "You'll have to
+learn to do what I do," he told the people there. "You'll
+have to work like fools for weeks. But there won't be
+many crippled children. I can promise that much!"</p>
+
+<p>He blinked sharply at the sudden hope in their eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span>
+But his mind went on wondering how long it would
+be before the inevitable would catch up with him. With
+luck, maybe a few months. But he hadn't been blessed
+with any superabundance of luck. It would probably be
+less time than he thought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="V" id="V"></a>V</h2>
+
+<h3>Surgery</h3>
+
+
+<p>Doc Feldman's luck was better than he had expected.
+For an Earth year, he was a doctor again, moving about
+from village to village as he was needed and doing what
+he could.</p>
+
+<p>The village had been isolated during the early colonization
+when Mars made a feeble attempt to break free
+of Space Lobby. Their supplies had been cut off and
+they had been forced to do for themselves. Now they
+were largely self-sufficient. They grew native plants and
+extracted hormones in crude little chemical plants. The
+hormones were traded to the big chemical plants for a
+pittance to buy what had to come from Earth. Other
+jury-rigged affairs synthesized much of their food. But
+mostly they learned to get along on what Mars provided.</p>
+
+<p>Doc Feldman learned from them. Money was no
+longer part of his life. He ate with whatever family
+needed him and slipped into the life around him.</p>
+
+<p>He was learning Martian medicine and finding that
+his Earth courses were mostly useless. No wonder the
+villagers distrusted Lobby doctors. Doc had his own little
+laboratory where he had managed to start making
+Mars-normal penicillin&mdash;a primitive antibiotic, but better
+than nothing.</p>
+
+<p>Jake had come to remind him that it was his first anniversary,
+and now they were smoking bracky together.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Sheer luck, Jake," Doc repeated. "You Martians are
+tough. But some day someone is going to die under my
+care, with the little equipment I have. Then&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Jake nodded slowly. "Maybe, Doc. And maybe some
+day Mars will break free of the Lobbies. You'd better
+pray for that."</p>
+
+<p>"I've been&mdash;" Doc stopped, realizing what he'd
+started to say. The old man chuckled.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been talking rebellion for months, Doc. I
+hear rumors. Whenever you get mad, you want us to
+secede. But you don't really mean it yet. You can't picture
+any government but the one you're used to."</p>
+
+<p>Doc grinned. Jake had a point, but it was not as
+strong as it would have been a few months before. The
+towns under the Lobby were cheap imitations of Earth,
+but here, divorced to a large extent from the lobbies,
+the villages were making Mars their own. Their ways
+might be strange; but they worked.</p>
+
+<p>Jake shifted his body in the weak sunlight. "Newton
+village forgot to report a death on time. I hear Ryan
+is sweating them out, trying to prove it was your fault."</p>
+
+<p>There was no evidence against him yet, Doc was sure.
+But Chris was out to prove something, and to get a
+reputation as a top-flight administrator. It must have
+hurt when they shipped her here as head of the lesser
+hemisphere of Mars. She'd expected to use Feldman as
+a front while she became the actual ruler of the whole
+Lobby. Now she wanted to strike back.</p>
+
+<p>"She's using blackmail," he said, and some of his old
+bitterness was in his voice. "Anyone taking treatment
+from an herb doctor in this section is cut off from Medical
+Lobby service. Damn it, Jake, that could mean letting
+people die!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah." Jake sighed softly. "It could mean letting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span>
+people begin to think about getting rid of the Lobby,
+too. Well, I gotta help harvest the bracky. Take it easy
+on operating for a while, will you, Doc?"</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Jake. But stop keeping the serious cases a
+secret. Two men died last month because you wouldn't
+call me for surgery. I've broken all my oaths already.
+It doesn't matter anymore."</p>
+
+<p>"It matters, boy. We've been lucky, but some day one
+case will go to the hospital and they'll find your former
+work. Then they'll really be after you. The less you do
+the better."</p>
+
+<p>Doc watched Jake slump off, then turned down into
+the little root cellar and back toward the room concealed
+behind it, where his crude laboratory lay. For
+the moment, he was free to work on the mystery of the
+black spots.</p>
+
+<p>He kept running into them&mdash;always on the body of
+someone who died of something that seemed like a normal
+disease. Without a microscope, he was almost helpless,
+but he had taken specimens and tried to culture
+them. Some of his cultures had grown, though they
+might be nothing but unknown Martian fungi or bacteria.
+Mars was dry and almost devoid of air, but plants
+and a few smaller insects had survived and adapted. It
+wasn't by any means lifeless.</p>
+
+<p>Without a microscope, he could do little but depend
+on his files of cases. But today there was new evidence.
+A villager had filched an Earth <i>Medical Journal</i> from
+the tractor driven by Chris Ryan and forwarded it to
+him. He found the black specks mentioned in a single
+paragraph, under skin diseases. Investigation of the diet
+was being made, since all cases were among people
+eating synthetics.</p>
+
+<p>There was another article on aberrant cases&mdash;a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span>
+strange little misbehaviors in classical syndromes. He
+studied that, wondering. It had to be the same thing.
+Diet didn't account for the fact that the specks appeared
+only when the patient was near death.</p>
+
+<p>Nor did it account for the hard lump at the base of
+the neck which he found in every case he could check.
+That might be coincidence, but he doubted it.</p>
+
+<p>Whatever it was, it aggravated any other disease the
+patient had and made seemingly simple diseases turn out
+to be completely and rapidly fatal. Once syphilis had
+been called "The Great Imitator". This gave promise of
+being worse.</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head, cursing his lack of equipment.
+Each month more people were dying with these specks&mdash;and
+he was helpless.</p>
+
+<p>The concealed door broke open suddenly and a boy
+thrust his head in. "Doc, there's a man here from Einstein.
+Says his wife's dying."</p>
+
+<p>The man was already coming into the room.</p>
+
+<p>"She's powerful sick, Doc. Had a bellyache, fever,
+began throwing up. Pains under her belly, like she's
+had before. But this time it's awful."</p>
+
+<p>Doc shot a few questions at him, frowning at what
+he heard. Then he began packing the few things that
+might help. There should be no appendicitis on Mars.
+The bugs responsible for that shouldn't have adapted
+to Mars-normal. But more and more infections found
+ways to cross the border. Gangrene had been able to get
+by without change, it seemed. So far, none of the contagious
+infections except polio and the common cold
+had made the jump.</p>
+
+<p>This sounded like an advanced case, perhaps already
+involving peritonitis.</p>
+
+<p>So far, he'd been lucky with penicillin, but each time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>
+he used it with grave doubts of its action on the Mars-adapted
+patients. If the appendix had burst, however, it
+was the only possible treatment.</p>
+
+<p>He riffled through his stores; There was ether enough,
+fortunately. The villagers had made that for him out of
+Martian plants, using their complicated fermentation
+processes. He yelled for Jake, and the boy brought the
+old man back a moment later.</p>
+
+<p>"Jake, I'll need more of that narcotic stuff. I don't
+want the woman writhing and tearing her stitches after
+the ether wears off."</p>
+
+<p>"Can't get it, Doc." Jake's eyes seemed to cloud as he
+said it. "Distilling plant broke down. Doc, I don't like
+this case. That woman's been to the hospital three times.
+I hear she just got out recently. This might be a plant,
+or they figure they can't help her."</p>
+
+<p>"They're afraid to try anything on Mars-normal flesh.
+They can't be proved wrong if they do nothing." Doc
+finished packing his bag and got ready to go out. "Jake,
+either I'm a doctor or I'm not. I can't worry when a
+woman may be dying."</p>
+
+<p>For a second, Jake's expression was stubborn. Then
+the little crow's feet around his eyes deepened and the
+dry chuckle was back in his voice. "Right, Dr. Feldman."
+He flipped up his thumb and went off at a shuffling
+run toward the tractor. Lou and the man from
+Einstein followed Doc into the machine.</p>
+
+<p>It was a silent ride, except for Doc's questions about
+the sick woman. Her husband, George Lynn, was evasive
+and probably ignorant. He admitted that Harriet
+had been to the dispensary and small infirmary that
+Southport called a hospital.</p>
+
+<p>It was the only place in the entire Southern hemisphere
+where an operation could be performed legally.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>
+Most cases had to go to Northport, but Chris had been
+trying to expand. Apparently, she was determined to
+make Southport into another major center before she
+was called back to Earth.</p>
+
+<p>Doc wondered why the villagers went there. They
+had no medical insurance with the Lobby; they couldn't
+afford it. Most villagers didn't have the cash, either.
+They were forced to mortgage their future work and
+that of their families to the drug plants that were run
+by the Lobby.</p>
+
+<p>"And they just turned your wife away?" Doc asked.
+He couldn't quite believe that of Chris.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, I dunno. She wouldn't talk much. Twice she
+went and they gave her something. Cost every cent I
+could borrow. Then this last time, they kept her a couple
+days before they let me come and get her. But
+now she's a lot worse."</p>
+
+<p>Jake spun about, suddenly tense. "How'd you pay
+them last time, George?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, they didn't ask. I told her she could put up
+six months from me and the kids, but nobody said nothing
+about it. Just gave her back to me." He frowned
+slowly, his dull voice uncertain. "They told me they'd
+done all they could, not to bring her back. That's why
+she was so strong on getting Doc."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't like it," Jake said flatly. "It stinks. They always
+charge. George, did they suggest she get in touch
+with Doc here?"</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe they did, maybe not. Harriet did all the talking
+with them. I just do what she tells me, and she said
+to get Doc."</p>
+
+<p>Jake swore. "It smells like a trap. Are you sure she's
+sick, George?"</p>
+
+<p>"I felt her head and she sure had a fever." George<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span>
+Lynn was torn between his loyalties. "You know me,
+Doc. You fixed me up that time I had the red pip. I
+wouldn't pull nothing on you."</p>
+
+<p>Doc had a feeling that Jake was probably right, but
+he vetoed the suggestion that they stop to look for spies.
+He had no time for that. If the woman was really sick,
+he had to get to her at once, and even that might be
+too late.</p>
+
+<p>He remembered the woman, sickly from other treatment.
+He'd been forced to remove her inflamed tonsils
+a few months before. She'd whined and complained because
+he couldn't spend all his time attending her. She
+was a nag, a shrew, and a totally selfish woman. But that
+was her <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'huband's'.">husband's</ins> worry, not his.</p>
+
+<p>He dashed into the little house when they reached
+Einstein, and his first glance confirmed what George
+Lynn had said. The woman was sick, all right. She was
+running a high fever. Much too high.</p>
+
+<p>She began whining and protesting at his having taken
+so long, but the pain soon forced her to stop.</p>
+
+<p>"There may still be a chance," Doc told her husband
+brusquely. He threw the cleanest sheet onto a table and
+shoved it under the single light. "Keep out of the way&mdash;in
+the other room, if you can all pile in there. This
+isn't exactly aseptic, anyhow. You can boil a lot of water,
+if you want to help."</p>
+
+<p>It would give them something to do and he could
+use the water to clean up. There was no time to wait
+for it, however. He had to sterilize with alcohol and
+carbolic acid, and hope. He bent over the woman, ripping
+her thin gown across to make room for the operation.</p>
+
+<p>Then he swore.</p>
+
+<p>Across her abdomen was the unhealed wound of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span>
+previous operation. They'd worked on her at <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'Southpost'.">Southport</ins>.
+They must have removed the appendix and then
+been shocked by the signs of infection. They weren't
+supposed to release a sick patient, but there was an easy
+out for them; they could remove her from the danger
+of spreading an unknown infection. Some doctors must
+have doped her up on sedatives and painkillers and sent
+her home, knowing that she would call him.
+For that matter, they might have noticed her unrecorded
+tonsillectomy and considered her fair bait.</p>
+
+<p>He grabbed the ether and slapped a cone over her
+nose. She tried to protest; she never cooperated in anything.
+But the fumes of the ether he dipped onto the
+packing of the cone soon overcame that.</p>
+
+<p>It was peritonitis, of course. The only thing to do was
+to go in and scrape and clean as best he could. It was
+a rotten job to have to do, and he should have had
+help. But he gritted his teeth and began. He couldn't
+trust anyone else to hold the instruments, even.</p>
+
+<p>He cleaned the infection as best he could, knowing
+there was almost no chance. He used all the penicillin
+he dared. Then he began sewing up the incision. It
+was all he could do, except for dressing the wound with
+a sterile bandage. He reached for one, and stopped.</p>
+
+<p>While he'd been working, the woman had died, far
+more quietly than she had ever lived.</p>
+
+<p>It was probably the only gracious act of her life.
+But it was damning to Doc. They couldn't hide her
+death, and any investigation would show that someone
+had worked on her. To the Lobby, he would be the
+one who had murdered her.</p>
+
+<p>Jake was waiting in the tractor. He took one look at
+Doc's face and made no inquiries.</p>
+
+<p>They were more than a mile away when Jake pointed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span>
+back. Small in the distance, but distinct against the
+sands, a gray Medical Corps tractor was coming. Either
+they'd had a spy in the village or they'd guessed the
+rate of her infection very closely. They must have
+hoped to catch Doc in the act, and they'd barely
+missed.</p>
+
+<p>It wouldn't matter. Their pictures and what testimony
+they could force from the village should be
+enough to hang Doc.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VI" id="VI"></a>VI</h2>
+
+<h3>Research</h3>
+
+
+<p>There had been a council the night following the
+death of Harriet Lynn. Somehow the word had spread
+through the villages and the chiefs had assembled in
+Jake's village. But they had brought no solution, and
+in the long run had been forced to accept Doc's decision.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not going to retire and hide," he'd told them,
+surprised at his own decision, but grimly determined.
+"You need me and I need you. I'll move every
+day in hopes the Lobby police won't find me, but I
+won't quit."</p>
+
+<p>Now he was packing the things he most needed and
+getting ready to move. The small bottles in which he
+was trying to grow his cultures would need warmth.
+He shoved them into an inner pocket, and began surveying
+what must be left.</p>
+
+<p>He was heading for his tractor when another battered
+machine drove up. It had a girl of about fourteen, with
+tears streaming down her face. She held out a pleading
+hand, and her voice was scared. "It's&mdash;it's mama!"</p>
+
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+
+<p>"Leibnitz."</p>
+
+<p>Leibnitz was near enough. Doc started his tractor,
+motioning for the girl to lead the way. The little dwelling
+she led him to was at the edge of the village, looking
+more poverty-stricken than most.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Chris Ryan, and three of the Medical Lobby police
+were inside, waiting. The girl's mother was tied to the
+bed, with a collection of medical instruments laid
+out, but apparently the threat had been enough. No
+actual injury had been inflicted. Probably none had
+been intended seriously.</p>
+
+<p>"I knew you'd answer that kind of call," Chris said
+coldly.</p>
+
+<p>He grinned sickly. They'd wasted no time. "I hear
+it's more than you'll do, Chris. Congratulations! My patient
+died. You're lucky."</p>
+
+<p>"She was certainly dead when my men took her picture.
+The print shows the death grimace clearly."</p>
+
+<p>"Pretty. Frame it and keep it to comfort you when
+you feel lonely," he snapped.</p>
+
+<p>She struck him across the mouth with the handle of
+her gun. Then she twisted out through the door
+quickly, heading for the tractor that had been camouflaged
+to look like those used by the villagers. The three
+police led him behind her.</p>
+
+<p>A shout went up, and people began to rush onto the
+village street. But they were too late. By the time they
+reached Southport, Doc could see a trail of battered
+tractors behind, but there was nothing more the people
+could do. Chris had her evidence and her prisoner.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Judge Ben Wilson might have been Jake's brother.
+He was older and grayer, but the same expression lay
+on his face. He must have been the family black sheep,
+since his father had been president of Space Lobby. Instead
+of inheriting the position, Wilson had remained
+on Mars, safely out of the family's way.</p>
+
+<p>He dropped the paper he was reading to frown at
+Chris. "This the fellow?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>She began formal charges, but he cut them off. "Your
+<ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'laywer'.">lawyer</ins> already had all that drawn up. I've been expecting
+you, Doctor. Doctor! Hnnf! You'd do a lot better
+home somewhere raising a flock of babies. Well, young
+fellow&mdash;so you're Feldman. Okay, your trial comes up
+day after tomorrow. Be a shame to lock you in Southport
+jail, a man of your importance. We'll just keep
+you here in the pending-trial room. It's a lot more comfortable."</p>
+
+<p>Chris had been boiling slowly, and now she seemed
+to blow her safety valve. "Judge Wilson, your methods
+are your own business in local affairs. But this involves
+Earth Medical Lobby. I demand&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tch, <i>tch</i>!" The judge stared at her reprovingly.
+"Young woman, you don't demand anything. This is
+Mars. If Space Lobby can stand me, I guess our friends
+over at Medical will have to. Or should I hold trial
+right now and find Feldman innocent for lack of evidence?"</p>
+
+<p>"You wouldn't!" Chris cried. Then her face sobered
+suddenly. "I apologize. Medical is pleased to leave
+things in your hands, of course."</p>
+
+<p>Wilson smiled. "Court's closed for today. Doc, I'll
+show you your cell. It's right next to my study, so I'm
+heading there anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>He began shucking his robe while Chris went out
+with the police, her voice sharp and continual.</p>
+
+<p>The cell was both reasonably escape-proof and comfortable,
+Doc saw, and he tried to thank the judge.</p>
+
+<p>But the old man waved it aside. "Forget it. I just like
+to see that little termagant taken down. But don't count
+on my being soft. My methods may be a bit unusual&mdash;I
+always did like the courtroom scenes in the old
+books by that fellow Smith&mdash;but Space Lobby never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span>
+had any reason to reverse my decisions. Anything you
+need?"</p>
+
+<p>"Sure," Doc told him, grinning in spite of his bitterness.
+"A good biology lab and an electron microscope."</p>
+
+<p>"Umm. How about a good optical mike and some
+stains? Just got them in on the last shipment. Figure
+they were meant for you anyhow, since Jake Mullens
+asked me to order them."</p>
+
+<p>He went out and came back with the box almost at
+once. He snorted at Doc's incredulous thanks and
+moved off, his bedroom slippers slapping against the
+hard floor.</p>
+
+<p>Doc stared after him. If he were a friend of Jake,
+willing to invent some excuse to get a microscope here
+... but it didn't matter. Friend or foe, his death sentence
+would be equally fatal. And there were other
+things to be thought of now. The little microscope was
+an excellent one, though only a monocular.</p>
+
+<p>Doc's hands trembled as he drew his cultures out and
+began making up a slide. The sun offered the best
+source of light near the window, and he adjusted the
+instrument. Something began to come into view, but
+too faintly to be really visible.</p>
+
+<p>He remembered the stains, trying to recall his biology
+courses. More by luck than skill, his fourth try gave him
+results.</p>
+
+<p>Under two thousand powers, he could just see details.
+There were dozens of cells in his impure culture,
+but only one seemed unfamiliar. It was a long, worm-like
+thing, sharpened at both ends, with the three separate
+nuclei that were typical of Martian life forms.
+Nearby were a host of little rodlike squiggles just too
+small to see clearly.</p>
+
+<p>Martian life! No Martian bug had ever proved harm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>ful
+to men. Yet this was no mutated cell or virus from
+Earth; it was a new disease, completely different from
+all others. It was one where all Earth's centuries of experience
+with bacteria would be valueless&mdash;the first
+Martian disease. Unless this was simply some accidental
+contamination of his culture, not common to the other
+samples. He worked on until the light was too faint
+before putting the microscope aside.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the trial commenced, however, he was
+sure of the cause of the disease. It <i>was</i> Martian. Crude
+as his cultures were, they had proved that.</p>
+
+<p>The little courtroom was filled, mostly from the villages.
+Lou was there, along with others he had come to
+know. Then the sight of Jake caught Doc's eyes. The
+darned fool had no business there; he could get too
+closely mixed into the whole mess.</p>
+
+<p>"Court's in session," Wilson announced. "Doc, you
+represented by counsel?"</p>
+
+<p>Jake's voice answered. "Your Honor, I represent the
+defendant. I think you'll find my credentials in order."</p>
+
+<p>Chris started to protest, but Wilson grinned. "Never
+lost your standing in spite of that little fracas thirty
+years ago, so far as I know. But the police thought you
+were a witness when you came walking in. Figured you
+were giving up."</p>
+
+<p>"I never said so," Jake answered.</p>
+
+<p>Chris was squirming angrily, but the florid man acting
+as counsel for Medical Lobby shook his head, bending
+over to whisper in her ear. He straightened. "No objection
+to counsel for the defense. We recognize his
+credentials."</p>
+
+<p>"You're a fool, Matthews," the judge told him. "Jake
+was smarter than half the rest of Legal Lobby before
+he went native. Still can tie your tail <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'in'.">to</ins> a can. Okay,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span>
+let's start things. I'm too old to dawdle."</p>
+
+<p>Doc lost track of most of what happened. This was
+totally unlike anything on Earth, though it might have
+been in keeping with the general casualness of the villages.
+Maybe the ritualistic routine of the Lobbies was
+driving those who could resist to the opposite extreme.</p>
+
+<p>Chris was the final witness. Matthews drew comment
+of Feldman's former crime from her, and Jake made
+no protest, though Wilson seemed to expect one. Then
+she began sewing his shroud. There wasn't a fact that
+managed to emerge without slanting, though technically
+correct. Jake sat quietly, smiling faintly, and making
+no protests.</p>
+
+<p>He got up lazily to cross-examine Chris. "Dr. Ryan,
+when Daniel Feldman was examined by the Captain of
+the <i>Navaho</i> after arriving at Mars station, did you identify
+him then as having been Dr. Daniel Feldman?"</p>
+
+<p>She glanced at Matthews, who seemed puzzled but
+unconcerned. "That's correct," she admitted. "But&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"And you later saw him delivered to the surface of
+Mars. Is that also correct?" When she assented, Jake
+hesitated. Then he frowned. "What did you do then?
+Did you report him or send anyone to look after him
+or anything like that?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly not," she answered. "He was no&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"You did absolutely nothing about him after you
+identified him and saw him delivered here? You're quite
+sure of that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I did nothing."</p>
+
+<p>Jake stood quietly for a moment, then shrugged. "No
+more questions."</p>
+
+<p>Matthews finished things in a plea for the salvation
+of all humanity from the danger of such men as Daniel
+Feldman. He was looking smug, as was Chris.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Wilson turned to Jake. "Has the defense anything to
+say?"</p>
+
+<p>"A few things, Your Honor." Jake stood up, suddenly
+looking certain and pleased. "We are happy to
+admit everything factual the Lobby had testified. Daniel
+Feldman performed a surgical operation on Harriet
+Lynn in the village of Einstein. But when has it been
+illegal for a member of the Medical profession to
+perform an operation, even with small chance of success,
+within an accepted area for such operation? There
+has been no evidence adduced that any crime or act of
+even unethical conduct was committed."</p>
+
+<p>That brought Chris and Matthews to their feet. Wilson
+was relaxed again, looking as if he'd swallowed a
+whole cage of canaries. He banged his gavel down.</p>
+
+<p>Jake picked up two ragged and dog-eared volumes
+from his table. "Case of Harding vs. Southport, 2043,
+establishes that a Lobby is responsible for any member
+on Mars. It is also responsible for informing the authorities
+of any criminal conduct on the part of its
+members or any former member known to it. Failure to
+report shall be considered an admission that the Lobby
+recognizes the member as one in good standing and
+accepts responsibility for that member's conduct.</p>
+
+<p>"At the time Daniel Feldman arrived, Dr. Christina
+Ryan was the highest appointed representative of Medical
+Lobby in Southport, with full authority. She identified
+Feldman as having been a doctor, without stipulating
+any change in status. She made no further report
+to any authority concerning Daniel Feldman's presence
+here. It seems obvious that Medical Lobby at Southport
+thereby accepted Daniel Feldman as a doctor in good
+standing for whose conduct the Lobby accepted full
+responsibility."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Wilson studied the book Jake held out, and nodded.
+"Seems pretty clear-cut to me," he agreed, passing the
+book on to Matthews. "There's still the charge that Dr.
+Feldman operated outside a hospital."</p>
+
+<p>"No reason he shouldn't," Jake said. He handed over
+the other volume. "This is the charter for Medical
+Lobby on Mars. Medical Lobby agrees to perform all
+necessary surgical and medical services for the planet,
+though at the signing of this charter there was no hospital
+on Mars. Necessarily, Medical Lobby agreed to
+perform surgery outside of any hospital, then. But to
+make it plainer, there's a later paragraph&mdash;page 181&mdash;that
+defines each hospital zone as extending not less than
+three nor more than one hundred miles. Einstein is
+about one hundred and ten miles from the nearest hospital
+at Southport, so Einstein comes under the original
+charter provisions. Dr. Feldman was forced by charter
+provisions to protect the good name of his Lobby by
+undertaking any necessary surgery in Einstein."</p>
+
+<p>He waited until Matthews had scanned that book,
+then took it back and began packing a big bag. Doc
+saw that his possessions and the microscope were already
+in the bag. The old man paid no attention to the
+arguments of Matthews before the bench.</p>
+
+<p>Abruptly Wilson pounded his gavel. "This court finds
+that Dr. Daniel Feldman is qualified to practice all the
+arts and skills of the medical profession on Mars and
+that he acted ethically in the performance of his duties
+in the case of the deceased Harriet Lynn," he ruled.
+"The costs of the case shall be billed to Medical Lobby
+of Southport."</p>
+
+<p>He took off his robe and moved rapidly toward his
+private quarters. Court was closed.</p>
+
+<p>Doc got up shakily, not daring to believe fully what<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>
+he had heard. He started toward Jake, trying to avoid
+bumping into Chris. But she would not be avoided. She
+stood in front of him, screaming accusations and threats
+that reminded him of the only fight they'd ever had
+during their brief marriage.</p>
+
+<p>When she ran down, he finally met her eyes. "You're
+a helluva doctor," he told her harshly. "You spend all
+your time fighting me when there's a plague out there
+that may be worse than any disease we've ever known.
+Take a look at what lies under the black specks on your
+corpses. You'll find the first Martian disease. And
+maybe if you begin working on that now, you can learn
+to be a real doctor in time to do something about it.
+But I doubt it."</p>
+
+<p>She fell back from him then. "Research! You've been
+doing unauthorized research!"</p>
+
+<p>"Prove it," he suggested. "But you'd be a lot smarter
+to try some yourself, and to hell with your precious
+rules."</p>
+
+<p>He followed Jake out to the tractor.</p>
+
+<p>Surprisingly, the old man was sweating now. He
+shook his head at Doc's look, and his grin was uncertain.</p>
+
+<p>"Matthews is an incompetent," he said. "They could
+have had you, Doc. That charter is so sloppy a man
+can prove anything by it, and building a hospital here
+did bring in Earth rules. Wilson went out on a limb in
+letting you go. But I guess we got away with it. Let's
+get out of here."</p>
+
+<p>Doc climbed into the tractor more soberly. They had
+escaped this time. But there would be another time,
+and he was pretty sure that would be Chris' round. He
+had no intention of giving up his research.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VII" id="VII"></a>VII</h2>
+
+<h3>Plague</h3>
+
+
+<p>Dr. Feldman leaned back from his microscope and
+lighted another bracky weed. He glanced about the
+room and sighed wearily. Maybe he'd been better off
+when he had no friends and couldn't risk the safety of
+others in an effort to do research that was the highest
+crime on two worlds.</p>
+
+<p>The evidence of his work was hidden thirty feet beyond
+his former laboratory in Jake's village, with a
+tunnel that led from another root-cellar. The theory was
+the old one that the best place to avoid discovery was
+where you had already been discovered. If their spies
+had identified his former hangout, they'd never expect
+to have him set up research nearby. It was a nice theory,
+but he wasn't sure of it.</p>
+
+<p>Jake looked up from a cot where he'd been watching
+the improvised culture incubator. "Stop tearing yourself
+to bits, Doc. We know the danger and we're still
+darned glad to have you here working on this."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm trying to put myself together into a whole man,"
+Doc told him. "But I seem to come out wholly a fool."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah, sure. Sometimes it takes a fool to get things
+done; wise men wait too long for the right time. How's
+the bug hunt?"</p>
+
+<p>Doc grunted in disgust and swung back to the microscope.
+Then he gave up as his tired eyes refused to
+focus. "Why don't you people revolt?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They tried it twice. But they were just a bunch of
+pariahs shipped here to live in peonage. They couldn't
+do much. The first time Earth cut off shipments and
+starved them. Next time the villages had the answer
+to that but the cities had to fight for Earth or starve,
+so they whipped us. And there's always the threat that
+Earth could send over unmanned war rockets loaded
+with fissionables."</p>
+
+<p>"So it's hopeless?"</p>
+
+<p>"So nothing! The Lobbies are poisoning themselves,
+like cutting off Medical service until they cut themselves
+out of a job. It's just a matter of time. Go back
+to the bugs, Doc."</p>
+
+<p>Doc sighed and reached for his notes. "I wish I knew
+more Martian history. I've been wondering whether this
+bug may not have been what killed off the old Martians.
+Something had to do it, the way they disappeared.
+I wish I knew enough to make an investigation of those
+ruins out there."</p>
+
+<p>"Durwood!" Jake had propped himself on an elbow,
+staring at Doc in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>Doc scowled. "Clive Durwood, you mean? The archeologist
+who dug up what little we know about the
+ruins?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah, before he went back to Earth and started living
+off his lectures. He came here again three years ago
+and dropped dead in Edison on the way to some other
+ruins. Heart failure, they called it, though it was more
+like the two old farmers who ran themselves to death
+last month. I saw him when they buried him. His face
+looked funny, and I think he had those little specks,
+though I may remember wrong." He grimaced. "Mars
+is tough, Doc; it has to be. Some of the plant seeds
+Durwood found in the ruins grew! Maybe your bugs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span>
+waited a million years till we came along."</p>
+
+<p>"What about the farmers? Did they meet Durwood?"</p>
+
+<p>Jake nodded. "Must have. He lived in their village
+most of the time."</p>
+
+<p>Doc went through his notes. He'd asked for reports
+on all deaths, and he finally found the account. The
+two old men had been nervous and fidgety for weeks.
+They were twins, living by themselves, and nobody
+paid much attention. Then one morning both were
+seen running wildly in circles. The village managed to
+tie them up, but they died of exhaustion shortly after.</p>
+
+<p>It wasn't a pretty picture. The disease might have an
+incubation period of nearly fifteen years, judging by
+the length of time it had taken to hit Durwood. It must
+spread from person to person during an early contagious
+stage, leaving widening circles behind Durwood
+and those first infected. When matured, any other sickness
+would set it off, with few symptoms of its own.
+But without help, it still killed its victims, apparently
+driving them madly toward frenzied physical effort.</p>
+
+<p>He studied the culture on a slide again. He'd tried
+Koch's method to get a pure strain, splattering the bugs
+onto a native starchy root and plucking off individual
+colonies. About twenty specimens had been treated
+with every chemical he could find. So far he'd found a
+few things that seemed to stop their growth, but nothing
+that killed them, except stuff far too harsh to use
+in living tissue.</p>
+
+<p>He had nearly forty cases of deaths that showed
+symptoms now, and he went back over them, looking
+for anything in common that went back ten to twenty
+years before death. There were no rashes nor blisters.
+A few had had apparent colds, but such were too common
+to mean anything.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Only one thing appeared, about fourteen years before
+their deaths. The people interviewed about the victims
+might be vague about most things, but they remembered
+the time when "Jim had the jumping headache."</p>
+
+<p>"Jake," Doc called, "what's jumping headache? Most
+people seem to have it some time or other, but I haven't
+run across a case of it."</p>
+
+<p>"Sure you have, Doc. Mamie Brander's little girl a
+few weeks ago. Feels like your pulse is going to rip
+your skull off, right here. Can't eat because chewing
+drives you crazy. Back of your head, neck and shoulders
+swell up for about a week. Then it goes away."</p>
+
+<p>Then it goes away&mdash;for fourteen years, until it comes
+back to kill!</p>
+
+<p>Doc stared at his charts in sudden horror. It was a
+new disease&mdash;thought to be some virus, but not considered
+dangerous. Selznik's migraine, according to medical
+usage; you treated it with hot pads and anodyne,
+and it went away easily enough.</p>
+
+<p>He'd seen hundreds of such cases on Earth. There
+must be millions who had been hit by it. The patent-medicine
+branch of the Lobby had even brought out
+something called Nograine to use for self-treatment.</p>
+
+<p>"Something important?" Jake wanted to know.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman nodded. "How much weight do you swing
+in other villages, Jake?"</p>
+
+<p>"People sort of do me favors when I ask," Jake admitted.
+"Like swiping those medical journals from
+Northport for you, or like Molly Badger getting that
+job as maid to spy on Chris Ryan. Name it and I'll do
+my best."</p>
+
+<p>Doc had a vague idea of village politics, but he had
+more important things to think of. Most of his foul
+mood had disappeared with the clue he'd stumbled on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span>
+and his chief worry now was to clinch the facts.</p>
+
+<p>Feldman considered the problem. "I want a report on
+every case of jumping headache in every village&mdash;who
+had it, when, and how old they were. This place first,
+but every village you can reach. And I'll want someone
+to take a letter to Chris Ryan."</p>
+
+<p>Jake frowned at that, but went out to issue instructions.
+Doc sat down at a battered old typewriter. Writing
+Chris might do no good, but some warning had to
+be gotten through to Earth, where the vast resources
+of Medical Lobby could be thrown into the task of
+finding the cause and cure of the disease. The connection
+with Selznik's migraine had to be reported. If something
+could blast the Lobby into action, it wouldn't matter
+quite so much what they did to him. He wasn't
+foolish enough to expect gratitude from them, but he
+was getting used to the idea that his days were numbered.
+The plague was more important than what happened
+to him.</p>
+
+<p>The letter had been dispatched by the time Jake returned.
+"Here's the dope for this village. Everybody
+accounted for except you."</p>
+
+<p>"Never had it, Jake." Feldman went down the list.
+"Most of it fourteen years ago. That fits. About the
+only exceptions are the kids who seem to get it between
+the ages of two and three. Eighty-seven out of ninety-one!"</p>
+
+<p>He stared at the figures sickly. Most of the village
+not only had the plague but must be near the end of
+the incubation period. It looked as if most of the village
+would be dead before another year passed.</p>
+
+<p>"Bad?" Jake asked.</p>
+
+<p>"The first symptom of Martian fever."</p>
+
+<p>The old man whistled, the lines around his eyes tight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>ening.
+"Must be me," he decided. "I'm the guy who
+must have brought it here, then. I used to spend a lot
+of time with Durwood at his diggings!"</p>
+
+<p>There was a constant commotion all that day and the
+next as runners went out to the villages and came back
+with reports. The variation from village to village was
+only slight. Most of Mars seemed to have advanced cases
+of Martian fever.</p>
+
+<p>Without animals for investigation and study, real research
+was difficult. Doc also needed an electron microscope.
+He was reasonably sure that the disease must
+travel through the nerves, but he had found no proof
+beyond the hard lump at the base of the neck. There
+it was a fair-sized organism. Elsewhere he could find
+nothing, until the black specks developed.</p>
+
+<p>His eyes ached from trying to see more than was
+visible in the microscope. The tantalizing suggestions
+of filaments around the nuclei might be the form of
+plague that was contagious. They might even be the
+true form of the bug, with the bigger cell only a transition
+stage. There were a number of diseases that involved
+complicated changes in the organisms that
+caused them. But he couldn't be sure.</p>
+
+<p>He finally buried his head in his hands, trying to do
+by pure thought what he couldn't do in any other way.
+And even there, he lacked training. He was a doctor,
+not a xenobiologist. Research training had been taboo
+in school, except for a favored few.</p>
+
+<p>The reports continued to come in, confirming the
+danger. They seemed to have the worst plague on their
+hands in all human history; and nobody who could do
+anything about it even knew of it.</p>
+
+<p>"Molly reports that your letter got some results,"
+Jake reported. "Chris Ryan brought home one of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span>
+electron microscopes and a bunch of equipment from
+the hospital pathology room. Think she'll get anywhere?"</p>
+
+<p>Doc doubted it. Damn it, he hadn't meant for her to
+try it, though she might have authority for routine experiments.
+But it was like her to refuse to pass on the
+word without trying to prove her own suspicion of
+him first.</p>
+
+<p>He tried to comfort himself with the fact that some
+men were immune, or seemed so; about three out of a
+hundred showed no signs. If that immunity was hereditary,
+it might save the race. If not....</p>
+
+<p>Jake came in at twilight with a grim face. "More
+news from Molly. The Lobby is starting out to comb
+every village with a fault-finder, starting here. And this
+hole will show up like a sore thumb. Better start packing.
+We gotta be out of here in less than an hour!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="VIII" id="VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>Fool</h3>
+
+
+<p>Three days later, Doc saw his first runner.</p>
+
+<p>The tractor was churning through the sand just before
+sundown, heading toward another one-night stand
+at a new village. Lou was driving, while Doc and Jake
+brooded silently in the back, paying no attention to the
+colors that were blazoned over the dunes. The cat-and-mouse
+game was getting to Doc. There was no real assurance
+that the village they were approaching might
+not be the target the Lobby had chosen for the next
+investigation.</p>
+
+<p>Lou braked the tractor to a sudden halt, and pointed.</p>
+
+<p>A figure was running frantically over one of the low
+dunes with the little red sun behind him. He seemed
+headed toward them, but as he drew nearer they could
+see that he had no definite direction. He simply ran,
+pumping his legs frantically as if all the devils of hell
+were after him. His body swayed from side to side in
+exhaustion, but his arms and legs pumped on.</p>
+
+<p>"Stop him!" Jake ordered, and Lou swung the tractor.
+It halted squarely in the runner's path, and the figure
+struck against it and toppled.</p>
+
+<p>The legs went on pumping, digging into the dirt and
+gravel, but the man was too far gone to rise. Jake and
+Lou shoved him through the doors into the tractor and
+Doc yanked off his aspirator.</p>
+
+<p>The man was giving vent to a kind of ululating cry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span>
+weakened now almost to a whine that rose and fell with
+the motion of his legs. Sweat had once streaked his
+haggard face, but it was dry and blanched to a pasty
+gray.</p>
+
+<p>Doc injected enough narcotic to quiet a maddened
+bull. It had no effect, except to upset the rhythm of the
+arms and legs. It took five more minutes for the man
+to die.</p>
+
+<p>The specks were larger this time&mdash;the size of periods
+in twelve-point type. The lump at the base of the skull
+was as big as a small hen's egg.</p>
+
+<p>"From Edison, like the others so far. Jack Kooley,"
+Jake answered Doc's question. "Durwood spent a lot of
+time here on his first expedition, so it's getting the worst
+of it."</p>
+
+<p>Doc pulled the aspirator mask back over the man's
+face and they carried him out and laid him on a low
+dune. They couldn't risk returning the corpse to its
+people.</p>
+
+<p>This was only the primary circle of infection, direct
+from Durwood. The second circle could be ten times
+as large, as the infection spread from one to a few to
+many. So far it was localized. But it wouldn't stay that
+way.</p>
+
+<p>Doc climbed slowly out of the tractor, lugging his
+small supplies of equipment, while Jake made arrangements
+for them to spend the night in a deserted house.
+But the figure of the runner and his own failures to
+find more about the disease kept haunting Doc. He
+began setting up his equipment grimly.</p>
+
+<p>"Better get some sleep," Jake suggested. "You're a
+mite more tired than you think. Anyhow, I thought
+you told me you couldn't do any more with what you've
+got."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Feldman looked at the supplies he had spread out,
+and shook his head wearily. He'd been over every
+chemical and combination a dozen times, without results
+that showed in the limited magnification of the optical
+mike.</p>
+
+<p>He snapped the case shut and hit the rude table with
+the heel of his hand. "There are other supplies. Jake,
+do you have any signal to get in touch with Molly
+at the Ryan house?"</p>
+
+<p>"Three raps on the rear left window. I'll get Lou."</p>
+
+<p>"No!" Doc came to his feet, reaching for his jacket.
+"They're looking for three men now. It's safer if I go
+alone&mdash;and I'm the only one who knows what supplies
+are needed. With luck, I may even get the electron mike.
+Got a gun I can borrow?"</p>
+
+<p>Jake found one somewhere, an old revolver with a
+few loads. He began protesting, but Doc overruled him
+sharply. Three men could no more fight off the police
+than one, if they were spotted. He swung toward the
+tractor.</p>
+
+<p>"You'd better start spreading the word on everything
+we know. If people realize they're already safe or
+doomed it'll be better than having them going crazy to
+avoid contagion."</p>
+
+<p>"Most of the villages know already," Jake told him.
+"And damn it, get back here, Doc. If you can't make
+it, turn tail quick, and we'll think of something else."</p>
+
+<p>Southport seemed normal enough as Doc drove
+through its streets. The stereo house was open, and the
+little shops were brightly lighted. He stopped once to
+pull a copy of Southport's little newspaper from a dispenser.
+All was quiet on its front page, too.</p>
+
+<p>As usual, though, the facts were buried inside. The
+editorial was pouring too much oil on the waters in its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span>
+lauding of the role of Medical Lobby on Mars for no
+apparent reason. The death notices no longer listed the
+cause of death. Medical knew something was up, at least,
+and was worried.</p>
+
+<p>He parked the tractor behind Chris' house and slipped
+to the proper window. Everything was seemingly quiet
+there. At his knock, the shade was drawn back, and he
+caught a brief glimpse of Molly looking out. A moment
+later she opened the rear lock to let him into the
+kitchen.</p>
+
+<p>"Shh. She's still up, I think. What can I do, Doc?"</p>
+
+<p>He tried to smile at her. "Hide me until it's safe to
+get into her laboratory. I've got to&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>The inner kitchen was kicked open and Chris stood
+beyond it, holding a cocked gun in her hand.</p>
+
+<p>"It took longer than I expected, Dan," she said
+quietly. "But after your letter, I knew you'd swallow the
+bait. You bloody fool! Did you really believe I'd start
+doing research here just because of your imaginings?"</p>
+
+<p>He slumped slowly back against the sink. "So this is
+a fool's errand, then? There never was any equipment
+here?"</p>
+
+<p>"The equipment's here&mdash;in my office. I guessed your
+spies would report it, so it had to be here. But it won't
+help you now, pariah Feldman!"</p>
+
+<p>He came from his braced position against the sink
+like a spring uncoiling. He expected her to shoot, but
+hoped the surprise would ruin her aim. Then it was
+too late, and his boot hit the gun savagely, knocking it
+from her hand. Life in the villages had hardened him
+surprisingly. She was comparatively helpless in his
+hands. A few minutes later, he had her bound securely
+with surgical tape Molly brought him. She raged furiously
+in the chair where he'd dumped her, then gave up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"They'll get you, Daniel Feldman!" Surprisingly,
+there was no rage in her voice now. "You won't get
+away from us. The planet isn't big enough."</p>
+
+<p>"I got away from your trial," he reminded her. "And
+I got away and lived when you left me without a
+chance on the ground of the spaceport."</p>
+
+<p>She laughed harshly. "<i>You</i> got away then? You fool,
+who do you think gave you the extra battery so you
+could live long enough to be helped at the spaceport?
+Who hired a fool like Matthews so you wouldn't get the
+death sentence you deserved? Who let you get away
+as an herb doctor for months before you set yourself
+up as God and a traitor to mankind again?"</p>
+
+<p>It shook him, as it was probably intended to do. How
+had she known about the extra battery? He'd always
+assumed that Ben had returned to give it to him. But
+in that case, Chris couldn't know of it. Then he hardened
+himself again. In the old days, she'd always had
+one trump card he couldn't beat and hadn't expected.
+But too much was involved for games now.</p>
+
+<p>"Any police around, Molly?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>Molly came back a minute later to report that everything
+looked clear and to show him where the equipment
+had been set up in Chris' office. It was all there,
+including the electron mike&mdash;a beautiful little portable
+model. There was even a small incubator with its own
+heat source into which he immediately transferred the
+little bottles he'd been keeping warm against his skin.
+Most of the equipment had never been unpacked, which
+made loading it onto his tractor ridiculously easy.</p>
+
+<p>"Better come with me now, Molly," he suggested at
+last. Then he turned to Chris, who was watching him
+with almost no expression. "You can wriggle your chair
+to the phone in half an hour, I guess. Knock the phone<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>
+off and yell for help. It's better than you deserve, unless
+you really did leave me that battery."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't get away with it," she told him again,
+calmly this time.</p>
+
+<p>"No," he admitted. "Probably not. But maybe the
+human race will, if I have time to find an answer to the
+plague you won't see under your nose. But you won't
+get away with it, either. In the long run, your kind
+never do."</p>
+
+<p>Molly was sniffling as they drove away. It had probably
+been the best life she'd known, Doc supposed.
+Chris could be kind to menials. But now Molly's work
+was done, and she'd have to disappear into the villages.
+He let her off at the first village and drove on alone.
+He was itching to get to the microscope now, hardly
+able to wait through the long journey back to Jake.
+His impatience grew with each mile.</p>
+
+<p>Finally he gave up. He swung the tractor into a small
+gulley between sand dunes, left the motor idling and
+pulled down the shades the villagers used for blackout
+traveling. There was power enough for the mike here,
+and the cab was big enough for what he had to do.</p>
+
+<p>He mounted the mike on the tractor seat and began
+laying out the collection of smears and cultures he had
+brought. It had been years since he'd made a film for
+the electron mike, but he found it all came back to him
+as he worked.</p>
+
+<p>His hands were sweating with tension as he inserted
+the first film into the chamber. He had the magnetic
+"lenses" set for twenty thousand power, but a quick
+glance showed it was too weak. He raised the power
+to fifty thousand.</p>
+
+<p>The filaments were there, clear and distinct.</p>
+
+<p>He turned on the little tape recorder that had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span>
+part of Chris' equipment and set the microphone where
+he could dictate into it without stopping to make
+clumsy notes. He readjusted the focus carefully, carrying
+on a running commentary.</p>
+
+<p>Then he gasped. Each of the little filaments carried
+three tiny darker sections; each was a cell, complete in itself,
+with the typical Martian triple nucleus.</p>
+
+<p>He put a film with a tiny section of the nerve tissue
+from a corpse into the chamber next, and again a quick
+glance at the screen was enough. The filaments were
+there, thickly crowded among nerve cells. They <i>did</i>
+travel along the nerves to reach the base of the brain
+before the larger lump could form.</p>
+
+<p>A specimen from one of the black specks was even
+more interesting. The filaments were there, but some
+were changed or changing into tiny, round cells, also
+with the triple dark spots of nuclei. Those must be the
+final form that was released to infect others. Probably
+at first these multiplied directly in epithelial tissue, so
+that there was a rapid contagion of infection. Eventually,
+they must form the filaments that invaded the
+nerves and caused the brief bodily reaction that was
+Selznik's migraine. Then the body adapted to them and
+they began to incubate slowly, developing into the
+large cells he had first seen. When "ripe", the big cells
+broke apart into millions of the tiny round ones that
+went back to the nerve endings, causing the black spots
+and killing the host.</p>
+
+<p>He knew his enemy now, at least.</p>
+
+<p>He reached for the controls, increasing the magnification.
+He would lose resolution, but he might find
+something more at the extreme limits of the mike.</p>
+
+<p>Something wet and cold gushed into his face. He
+jerked back, trying to wipe it off, but it was already<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span>
+evaporating, and there was a thick, acrid odor in the
+cab. He grabbed for his aspirator, then tried to reach
+the airlock. But paralysis was already spreading through
+him, and he toppled to the floor before he could escape.</p>
+
+<p>When he came to, it was morning outside, and Chris
+was waiting inside the cab with two big Lobby policemen.
+A hypo in her hand must have been what revived
+him.</p>
+
+<p>She touched the electron microscope with something
+like affection. "The Lobby technicians did a good job
+on this, don't you think, Dan? I warned you, but you
+wouldn't listen. And now we've even got your own
+taped words to prove you were doing forbidden research.
+Fool!"</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head pityingly as the tractor began
+moving with two others toward Southport.</p>
+
+<p>"You and your phony diseases. A little skin disorder,
+Selznik's migraine, and a few cases of psychosis to make
+a new disease. Do you think Medical Lobby can't check
+on such simple things? Or didn't you expect us to hear
+of your open talk of revolt and realize you were planning
+to create some new germ to wipe out the Earth
+forces. Maybe those runners of yours were real, mass
+murderer!"</p>
+
+<p>She drew out another hypo and shoved the needle
+into his arm. Necrosynth&mdash;enough to keep him unconscious
+for twenty-four hours. He started to curse her,
+but the drug acted before he could complete the
+thought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="IX" id="IX"></a>IX</h2>
+
+<h3>Judgment</h3>
+
+
+<p>Doc woke to see sunlight shining through a heavily
+barred window that must be in the official Southport
+jail. He waited a few minutes for his head to clear and
+then sat up; necrosynth left no hangover, at least.</p>
+
+<p>The sound of steps outside was followed by the
+squeak of a key in the lock. "Fifteen minutes, Judge
+Wilson," a voice said.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you, officer." Wilson came into the cell, carrying
+a tray of breakfast and a copy of the Northport
+<i>Gazette</i>. He began unloading bracky weeds from his
+pocket while Doc attacked the breakfast.</p>
+
+<p>"They tossed the book at you, Doc," he said. "You
+haven't got a chance, and there's nothing the villages
+can do. Trial's set for tomorrow at Northport, and it's
+in closed session. We can't get you off this time."</p>
+
+<p>Doc nodded. "Thanks for coming, even if there's
+nothing you can do. I've been living on borrowed time
+for a year, anyhow, so I have no right to kick. But
+who's 'we'?"</p>
+
+<p>"The villages. I've been part of their organization for
+years." The old man sighed heavily. "You might say a
+revolution has been going on since I can remember,
+though most villagers don't know it. We've just been
+waiting our time. Now we've stopped waiting and the
+rifles will be coming out&mdash;rifles made in village shops.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span>
+The villages are going to rebel, even if we're all dead
+of plague in a month."</p>
+
+<p>Doc Feldman nodded and reached for the bracky. He
+knew that this was their way of trying to make him
+feel his work hadn't been for nothing, and he was grateful
+for Wilson's visit. "It was a good year for me.
+Damned good. But time's running short. I'd better brief
+you on the latest on the plague."</p>
+
+<p>Wilson began making notes until Doc was finished.
+Finally he got up as steps sounded from the hall. "Anything
+else?"</p>
+
+<p>"Just a guess. A lot of Earth germs can't live in Mars-normal
+flesh; maybe this can't live in Earth-normal. Tell
+them so long for me."</p>
+
+<p>"So long, Doc." He shook hands briefly and was waiting
+at the door when the guard opened it.</p>
+
+<p>An hour later, the Lobby police took Feldman to the
+Northport shuttle rocket. They had some trouble on
+the way; a runner cut down the street, with the crowds
+frantically rushing out of his way. Terror was reaching
+the cities already.</p>
+
+<p>Doc flashed a look at Chris. "Mob hysteria. Like flying
+saucers and wriggly tops, I suppose?" he asked, before
+the guard could stop him.</p>
+
+<p>They locked his legs, but left his hands free in the
+rocket. He unfolded the paper Wilson had brought and
+buried his face in it. Then he swore. They <i>were</i> explaining
+the runners as a case of mob hysteria!</p>
+
+<p>Northport was calmer. Apparently they had yet to
+have first-hand experience with the plague. But now
+nothing seemed quite real to Doc, even when they
+locked him into the big Northport jail. The whole ritual
+of the Lobbies seemed like a fantasy after the villages.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It snapped back into focus, however, when they led
+him into the trial room of the Medical Lobby building.
+It was a smaller version of his trial on Earth. Fear
+washed in by association. The complete lack of humanity
+in the procedure was something from a half-remembered
+and horrible past.</p>
+
+<p>The presiding officer asked the routine question: "Is
+the prisoner represented by counsel?"</p>
+
+<p>Blane, the dapper little prosecutor, arose quickly.
+"The prisoner is a pariah, Sir Magistrate."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well. The court will accept the protective
+function for the prisoner. You may proceed."</p>
+
+<p><i>I'll be judge, I'll be jury.</i> And prosecution and defense.
+It made for a lot less trouble. Of course, if Space
+Lobby had asserted interest, it would have gone to a
+supposedly neutral court. But as usual, Space was happy
+to leave it in the hands of Medical.</p>
+
+<p>The tape was played as evidence. Doc frowned. The
+words were his, but there had been a lot of editing
+that subtly changed the import of his notes.</p>
+
+<p>"I protest," he challenged. "It's not an accurate version."</p>
+
+<p>The Lobby magistrate turned a wooden face to him.
+"Does the prisoner have a different version to introduce?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, but&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"The evidence is accepted. One of the prisoner's six
+protests will be charged against him."</p>
+
+<p>Blane smiled smoothly and held up a small package.
+"We wish to introduce this drug as evidence that the
+prisoner is a confirmed addict, morally irresponsible
+under addiction. This is a package of so-called bracky
+weed, a vile and noxious substance found in his possession."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"It has alkaloids no more harmful than nicotine,"
+Feldman stated sharply.</p>
+
+<p>"Do you contend that you find the taste pleasing?"
+Blane asked.</p>
+
+<p>"It's bitter, but I've gotten used to it."</p>
+
+<p>"I've tasted it," the magistrate said. "Evidence accepted.
+Two deductions, one for irregularity of presentation."</p>
+
+<p>Doc shrugged and sat back. He'd tested his rights
+and found what he expected. It was hard to see now
+how he had ever accepted such procedure. Jake must
+be right; they'd been in power too long, and were making
+the mistake of taking the velvet glove off the iron
+fist and flailing about for the sheer pleasure of power.</p>
+
+<p>It dragged on, while he became a greater and greater
+monster on the record. But finally it was over, and the
+magistrate turned to Feldman. "You may present your
+defense."</p>
+
+<p>"I ask complete freedom of expression," Doc said
+formally.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrate nodded. "This is a closed court. Permission
+granted. The recording will be scrambled."</p>
+
+<p>The last bit ruined most of the purpose Doc had in
+mind. But it was too late to change. He could only hope
+that some one of the Medical men present would remember
+something of what he said.</p>
+
+<p>"I have nothing to say for myself," he began. "It
+would be useless. But I had to do what I did. There's
+a plague outside. I've studied that plague, and I have
+knowledge which must be used against it...."</p>
+
+<p>He sat down in three minutes. It had been useless.</p>
+
+<p>Blane arose, with a smile still plastered on his face.
+"We, of course, recognize the existence of a new contagion,
+but I believe we have established that this is one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>
+disseminated by the prisoner himself, and probably not
+directly contagious. There have been many cases of fanatics
+ready to destroy humanity to eliminate those
+they hate. Now, surely, the prisoner has himself left no
+question of his attitude. He asserts he has knowledge
+and skill greater than the entire Medical Research staff.
+He has attempted to intimidate us by threats. He is
+clearly psychopathic, and dangerously so. The prosecution
+rests."</p>
+
+<p>The guards took Doc into the anteroom, where he
+was supposed to hear nothing that went on. But their
+curiosity was stronger than their discretion, and the
+door remained a trifle ajar.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrate began the discussion. "The case seems
+firm enough. It's fortunate Dr. Ryan acted so quickly,
+with some of the people getting nervous. Perhaps it
+might be wise to publicize our verdict."</p>
+
+<p>"My thought exactly," Blane agreed. "If we show
+Feldman is responsible and that Medical is eliminating
+the source of the infection, it may have a stabilizing
+effect."</p>
+
+<p>"Let's hope so. The sentence will have to be death,
+of course. We can't let such a rebellious psychopath
+live. But this needs something more, it seems. You've
+prepared a recommendation, I suppose."</p>
+
+<p>"There was the case of Albrecht Delier," Blane suggested.
+"Something like that should have good publicity
+impact."</p>
+
+<p>It struck Doc that they sounded as if they believed
+themselves&mdash;as the witch-burners had believed in
+witches. He was sweating when the guards led him before
+the bench.</p>
+
+<p>The magistrate rolled a pen slowly across his fingers
+as his eyes raked Feldman. "Pariah Daniel Feldman, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span>
+have been found guilty on all counts. Furthermore, your
+guilt must be shared by that entire section of Mars
+known as the villages. Therefore the entire section shall
+be banned and forbidden any and all services of the
+Medical Lobby for a period of one year."</p>
+
+<p>"Sir Magistrate!" One of the members of Southport
+Hospital staff was on his feet. "Sir Magistrate, we can't
+cut them off completely."</p>
+
+<p>"We must, Dr. Harkness. I appreciate the fine humanitarian
+tradition of our Lobby which lies behind
+your protest, but at such a time as this the good of the
+body politic requires drastic measures. Why not see me
+after court, and we can discuss it then?"</p>
+
+<p>He turned back to Feldman, and his face was severe.</p>
+
+<p>"The same education which has produced such fine
+young men as Dr. Harkness was wasted on you and
+perverted to endanger the whole race. No punishment
+can equal your crimes, but there is one previously invoked
+for a particularly horrible case, and it seems fitting
+that you should be the fourth so sentenced.</p>
+
+<p>"Daniel Feldman, you are sentenced to be taken in
+to space beyond planetary limits, together with all material
+used by you in the furtherance of your criminal
+acts. There you shall be placed into a spacesuit containing
+sufficient oxygen for one hour of life, and no more.
+You and your contaminated possessions shall then be
+released into space, to drift there through all eternity as
+a warning to other men.</p>
+
+<p>"This sentence shall be executed at the earliest possible
+moment, and Dr. Christina Ryan is hereby commissioned
+to observe such execution. And may God
+have mercy on your soul!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="X" id="X"></a>X</h2>
+
+<h3>Execution</h3>
+
+
+<p>The hours of waiting were blurred for Doc. There
+were periods when fear clogged his throat and left him
+gasping with the need to scream and beat his cell walls.
+There were also times when it didn't seem to matter,
+and when his only thoughts were for the villages and
+the plague.</p>
+
+<p>They brought him the papers, where he was painted
+as a monster beside whom Jack the Ripper and Albrecht
+Delier were gentle amateurs. They were trying
+to focus all fear and resentment on him. Maybe it was
+working. There were screaming crowds outside the jail,
+and the noise of their hatred was strong enough to carry
+through even the atmosphere of Mars. But there were
+also signs that the Lobby was worried, as if afraid that
+some attempt might still be made to rescue him.</p>
+
+<p>He'd looked forward to the trip to the airport as a
+way of judging public reaction. But apparently the
+Lobby had no desire to test that. The guards led him
+up to the roof of the jail, where a rocket was waiting.
+The landing space was too small for one of the station
+shuttles, but a little Northport-Southport shuttle was
+parked there after what must have been a difficult set-down.
+The guards tested Doc's manacles and forced
+him into the shuttle.</p>
+
+<p>Inside, Chris was waiting, carrying an official automatic.
+There was also a young pilot, looking nervous<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+and unhappy. He was muttering under his breath as
+the guards locked Doc's legs to a seat and left.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," Chris ordered. "Up ship!"</p>
+
+<p>"I tell you we're overweight with you. I wasn't counting
+on three for the trip," the pilot protested. "The
+only thing that will get this into orbit with the station
+is faith. I'm loaded with every drop of fuel she'll hold
+and it still isn't enough."</p>
+
+<p>"That's your problem," Chris told him firmly.
+"You've got your orders, and so have I. Up ship!"</p>
+
+<p>If she had her own worries about the shuttle, she
+didn't show it. Chris had never been afraid to do what
+she felt she should. The pilot stared at her doubtfully
+and finally turned back to his controls, still muttering.</p>
+
+<p>The shuttle lifted sluggishly, but there was no great
+difficulty. Doc could see that there was even some fuel
+remaining when they slipped into the tube at the orbital
+station. Chris went out, and other guards came
+in to free him.</p>
+
+<p>"So long, Dr. Feldman," the pilot called softly as they
+led him out. Then the guards shoved him through the
+airlock into the station. Fifteen minutes later he was
+locked into one of the cabins of the <i>Iroquois</i>, with all
+his possessions stacked beside him.</p>
+
+<p>He grinned wryly. As an honest worker on the
+<i>Navaho</i> he'd been treated like an animal. Now, as a human
+fiend, he was installed in a luxury cabin of the
+finest ship of the fleet, with constant spin to give a feeling
+of weight and more room than the entire tube crew
+had known.</p>
+
+<p>He roamed the cabin until he found a little collapsible
+table. He set the electron microscope up on that and
+plugged it in. It seemed a shame that good equipment
+should be wasted along with his life. He wondered if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span>
+they would really throw it out into space with him.
+Probably they would.</p>
+
+<p>He pushed a button on the call board over the table
+and asked for the steward. There was a long wait, as
+if the procedure were being checked with some authority,
+but finally he received a surly acknowledgement.
+"Steward. Whatcha want?"</p>
+
+<p>"How's the chance of getting some food?"</p>
+
+<p>"You're on first-class."</p>
+
+<p>They could afford it, Doc decided. He wouldn't cost
+them much, considering the distance he was going.
+"Bring me two complete dinners&mdash;one Earth-normal
+and one Mars-normal."</p>
+
+<p>"Okay, Feldman. But if you think you can suicide
+that way, you're wrong. You may be sick, but you'll
+be alive when they dump you."</p>
+
+<p>A sharp click interrupted him. "That's enough, Steward.
+Captain Everts speaking. Dr. Feldman, you have
+my apologies. Until you reach your destination, you
+are my passenger and entitled to every consideration of
+any other passenger except freedom of movement
+through the ship. I am always available for legitimate
+complaints."</p>
+
+<p>Feldman shook his head. He'd heard of such men.
+But he'd thought the species extinct.</p>
+
+<p>The steward brought his food in a thoroughly chastened
+manner. He managed to find space for it and
+came to attention. "Is that all&mdash;sir?"</p>
+
+<p>For a moment, as the smell of real steak reached him,
+Doc regretted the fact that his metabolism had been
+switched. Then he shrugged. A little wouldn't hurt him,
+though there was no proper nourishment in it. He
+squeezed some of the gravy and bits of meat into one
+of his bottles, sticking to his purpose; then he fell to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span>
+on the rest. But after a few bites, it was queerly unsatisfactory.
+The seemingly unappealing Mars-normal
+ragout suited his current tastes better, after all.</p>
+
+<p>Once the steward had cleared away the dishes, Doc
+went to work. It was better than wasting his time in
+dread. He might even be able to leave some notes behind.</p>
+
+<p>A gong sounded, and a red light warned him that
+acceleration was due. He finished with his bottles, put
+them into the incubator, and piled into his bunk, swallowing
+one of the tablets of morphetal the ship furnished.</p>
+
+<p>Acceleration had ended, and a simple breakfast was
+waiting when he awoke. There was also a red flashing
+light over the call board. He flipped the switch while
+reaching for the coffee.</p>
+
+<p>"Captain Everts," the speaker said. "May I join you
+in your cabin?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come ahead," Feldman invited. He cut off the switch
+and glanced at the clock on the wall. There were less
+than eleven hours left to him.</p>
+
+<p>Everts was a trim man of forty, erect but not rigid.
+There was neither friendliness nor hostility in his
+glance. His words were courteous as Doc motioned toward
+the tray of breakfast. "I've already eaten, thank
+you."</p>
+
+<p>He accepted a chair. His voice was apologetic when
+he began. "This is a personal matter which I perhaps
+have no right to bring up. But my wife is greatly worried
+about this plague. I violate no confidence in telling
+you there is considerable unease, even on Earth, according
+to messages I have received. The ship physician believes
+Mrs. Everts may have the plague, but isn't sure
+of the symptoms. I understand you are quite expert."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Doc wondered about the physician. Apparently there
+was another man who placed his patients above anything
+else, though he was probably meticulous about
+obeying all actual rules. There was no law against listening
+to a pariah, at least.</p>
+
+<p>"When did she have Selznik's migraine?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"About thirteen years ago. We went through it together,
+shortly after having our metabolism switched
+during the food shortage of '88."</p>
+
+<p>Doc felt carefully at the base of the Captain's skull;
+the swelling was there. He asked a few questions, but
+there could be no doubt.</p>
+
+<p>"Both of you must have it, Captain, though it won't
+mature for another year. I'm sorry."</p>
+
+<p>"There's no hope, then?"</p>
+
+<p>Doc studied the man. But Everts wasn't the sort to
+dicker even for his life. "Nothing that I've found, Captain.
+I have a clue, but I'm still working on it. Perhaps
+if I could leave a few notes for your physician&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>It was Everts' turn to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Dr.
+Feldman. I have orders to burn out your cabin when
+you leave. But thank you." He got to his feet and left
+as quietly and erectly as he had entered.</p>
+
+<p>Doc tore up his notes bitterly. He paced his cabin
+slowly, reading out the hours while his eyes lingered on
+the little bottle of cultures. At times the fear grew in
+him, but he mastered it. There was half an hour left
+when he began opening the little bottles and making his
+films.</p>
+
+<p>He was still not finished when steps echoed down
+the hall, but he was reasonably sure of his results. The
+bug could not grow in Earth-normal tissue.</p>
+
+<p>Three men entered the room. One of them, dressed
+in a spacesuit, held out another suit to him. The other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>
+two began gathering up everything in the cabin and
+stowing it neatly into a sack designed to protect freight
+for a limited time in a vacuum.</p>
+
+<p>Doc forced his hands to steadiness with foolish pride
+and began climbing into the suit. He reached for the
+helmet, but the man shook his head, pointing to the
+oxygen gauge. There would be exactly one hour's supply
+of oxygen when he was thrown out and it still
+lacked five minutes of the deadline.</p>
+
+<p>They marched him down the hallway, to meet Everts
+coming toward them. There were still three minutes
+left when they reached the airlock, with its inner door
+already open. The spacesuited man climbed into it and
+began strapping down so that the rush of air would not
+sweep him outward when the other seal was released.</p>
+
+<p>Doc had saved one bracky weed. Now he raised it
+to his lips, fumbling for a light.</p>
+
+<p>Everts stepped forward and flipped a lighter. Doc inhaled
+deeply. Fear was thick in every muscle, and he
+needed the smoke desperately. Then he caught himself.</p>
+
+<p>"Better change your metabolism back to Earth-normal,
+Captain Everts," he said, and his voice was so normal
+that he hardly recognized it.</p>
+
+<p>Everts' eyes widened briefly. The man bowed faintly.
+"Thank you, Dr. Feldman."</p>
+
+<p>It was ridiculous, impossible, and yet there was a curious
+relief at the formality of it. It was like something
+from a play, too unreal to affect his life.</p>
+
+<p>Everts nodded to the man holding the helmet. Doc
+dropped his bracky weed and felt the helmet snap
+down. A hiss of oxygen reached him and the suit ballooned
+out. There was no gravity; the two men handed
+him up easily to the one in the airlock while the inner
+seal began to close.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>There was still ten seconds to go, according to the
+big chronometer that had been installed in the lock. The
+spaceman used it in tying the sack of possessions firmly
+to Doc's suit.</p>
+
+<p>A red light went on. The man caught Doc and held
+him against the outer seal. The red light blinked. Four
+seconds ... three ... two....</p>
+
+<p>There was a sudden heavy thudding sound, and the
+<i>Iroquois</i> seemed to jerk sideways slightly. The spaceman's
+face swung around in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>The red light blinked and stayed on. Zero!</p>
+
+<p>The outer seal snapped open and the spaceman
+heaved. Air exploded outwards, and Doc went
+with it. He was alone in space, gliding away from the
+ship, with oxygen hissing softly through the valve and
+ticking away his life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="XI" id="XI"></a>XI</h2>
+
+<h3>Convert</h3>
+
+
+<p>Feldman fought for control of himself, forced himself
+to think, to hold onto his sanity. It was sheer stupidity,
+since nothing could have been more merciful than
+to lose this reality. But the will to be himself was
+stronger than logic. And bit by bit, he forced the fear
+and horror away from him until he could examine his
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>He was spinning slowly, so that stars ahead of him
+seemed to crawl across his view. The ship was retreating
+from him already hundreds of yards away. Mars
+was a shrunken pill far away.</p>
+
+<p>Then something blinked to one side. He turned his
+head to stare.</p>
+
+<p>A little ship was less than three hundred yards away.
+He recognized it as a life raft. Now his spin brought
+him around to face it, and he saw it was parallelling
+his course. The ejection of the life raft must have
+caused the thump he'd heard before he was cast adrift.</p>
+
+<p>It meant someone was trying to save him. It meant
+<i>life</i>!</p>
+
+<p>He flailed his arms and beat his legs together, senselessly
+trying to force himself closer, while trying to
+guess who could have taken the chance. No one he
+could think of could have booked passage on the <i>Iroquois</i>.
+There wasn't that much free money in the villages.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Something flashed a hot blue, and the little ship leaped
+forward. Whoever was handling it knew nothing about
+piloting. It picked up too much speed at too great an
+angle.</p>
+
+<p>Again blue spurts came, but this time matters were
+even worse. Then there was a long wait before a third
+try was made. He estimated the course. It would miss
+him by a good hundred feet, but it was probably the best
+the amateur pilot could do. The ship drifted closer, but
+to one side. It would soon pass him completely.</p>
+
+<p>A spacesuited figure suddenly appeared in the tiny
+airlock, holding a coil of rope. The rope shot out, well
+thrown. But it was too short. It would pass within ten
+feet&mdash;and might as well have been ten miles for all the
+good it would do him.</p>
+
+<p>Every film he had seen on space seemed to form a
+mad jumble in his mind, but he seized on the first idea
+he could remember. He inhaled deeply and yanked the
+oxygen tank free. An automatic seal on the suit cut off
+the connection. He aimed the hissing bottle, fumbling
+for the manual valve.</p>
+
+<p>It almost worked. It kicked him toward the rope
+slightly, but most of the energy was wasted in setting
+him into a wilder spin. He blinked, trying to spot the
+rope. It was within five feet now.</p>
+
+<p>Again he waited, until he seemed to be in position.
+This time he threw the bottle away from it. It added
+spin to his vertical axis, but the rope came into view
+within arm's reach.</p>
+
+<p>He grasped it, just as his lungs seemed about to burst.
+He couldn't hold on long enough to tie the rope....</p>
+
+<p>His lungs gave up suddenly, collapsing and then sucking
+in greedily. Clean air rushed in, letting his head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span>
+clear. He'd forgotten that the inflated suit held enough
+oxygen for several minutes.</p>
+
+<p>His body struck the edge of the airlock and a hand
+jerked him inside. The outer seal was slammed shut and
+locked, and there was a hiss of air entering.</p>
+
+<p>He threw back his helmet just as Chris Ryan jerked
+hers off.</p>
+
+<p>Her voice shook almost hysterically. "Thank God.
+Dan, I almost gave up!"</p>
+
+<p>"I liked the air out there better," he told her bitterly.
+"If you'll open the lock again, I'll leave. Or am I supposed
+to believe this is rescue and that you came along
+just to save me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I came along to see you killed, as you know very
+well. Saving you wasn't in my orders."</p>
+
+<p>He grunted and reached for the handle that would
+release the outer lock. "Better get back inside if you
+don't want to blow out with me."</p>
+
+<p>"It's up to you, Dan," she told him, and there was
+all the sincerity in the world in her blue eyes. "I'm on
+your side now."</p>
+
+<p>He began counting on his fingers. "Let's see. The
+spare battery, the delay in arresting me, the choice of
+Matthews&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"It was all true." Anger began to grow in her eyes.
+"Dan Feldman, you get inside this raft! If you don't
+care about me, you might consider the people dying of
+the plague who need you!"</p>
+
+<p>She'd played her trump, and it took the round. He
+followed her.</p>
+
+<p>"All right," he said grudgingly. "Spill your story."</p>
+
+<p>She held out a copy of a space radiogram, addressed
+to Mrs. D. E. Everts, and signed by one of the best
+doctors on the Lobby Board of Directors.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>Regret confirm diagnosis. Topsecret. Repeat
+topsecret. Martian fever incubates fourteen years,
+believed highly fatal. No cure, research beginning
+immediately. Penalty violation topsecret, death all
+concerned.</p></div>
+
+<p>"Mrs. Everts rates a topsecret break?" Doc commented
+dryly. "Come off it, Chris!"</p>
+
+<p>"She's the daughter of Elmers of Space Lobby!"
+Chris answered. She pointed to the message, underlining
+words with her finger. "<i>Fourteen years.</i> You
+couldn't have caused it. <i>Highly fatal.</i> And people are
+being told it's only a skin disease. <i>Research beginning.</i>
+But you've already done most of the research. I can
+see that now. I can see a lot of things."</p>
+
+<p>"You've got me beat then," he said. "I can't see how
+such a reformed young noblewoman calmly walked
+over and stole a life raft. I can't see how your brilliant
+mind concocted this whole scheme in almost no time.
+And to be honest, I can't even see why Medical Lobby
+decided to save me at the last minute and sent you to
+do the job. You didn't have to spy out knowledge from
+me. I've been trying all along to get it to your Research
+division."</p>
+
+<p>She sighed and dropped onto a little seat.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't prove my motives. You'll just have to believe
+me. But it wasn't hard to do what I've done. That shuttle
+pilot was found in a routine check, stowed away on
+the life raft. I was with Captain Everts when he was
+found, so I discovered how to get into the raft. And I
+heard his whole confession. He wasn't the real pilot.
+He'd come from the villages to save you. The whole
+scheme was his. I just used it, hoping I could reach
+you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As always her story had a convincing element she
+shouldn't have known. The pilot's farewell, addressing
+him as Dr. Feldman, had been too low for her to hear,
+but it was something that fitted her story. It was probably
+a deliberate clue to give him hope, to assure him
+the villages were still trying. It shook his confidence.</p>
+
+<p>"And your motive&mdash;your real motive?" he insisted.</p>
+
+<p>She swore at him, then began ripping off the spacesuit.
+She turned her back, pulling a thin blouse down
+from her neck. He stared, then reached out to touch
+the lump there.</p>
+
+<p>"So you've had Selznik's migraine and know you're
+carrying plague. And you've decided your precious
+Lobby won't save you?"</p>
+
+<p>She dropped her eyes, then raised them to meet his
+defiantly. "I'm not just scared and selfish. Dad caught
+it, too, and it must be close to the time for him. He
+switched to Mars-normal when he was a liaison agent
+and never changed back. Dan, are we all going to have
+to die? Can't you save him?"</p>
+
+<p>Feldman was out of his suit and at the control panel.
+There was a manual lever, which Chris must have used
+before. It might work out here where there was room
+to maneuver and nothing to hit. But trying to make a
+landing was going to be different.</p>
+
+<p>"Dan?" she repeated.</p>
+
+<p>He shrugged. "I don't know. They've started research
+too late and they'll be under so much pressure
+that the real brains won't have a chance. The topsecret
+stuff looks bad for research. Maybe there's a cure. It
+works in culture bottles, but it may fail in person. When
+I'm convinced I'm safe with you, I may tell you about
+it."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh." Her voice was low. Then she sighed. "I sup<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span>pose
+I can understand why you hate me, Dan."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't hate you. I'm too mixed up. Tomorrow
+maybe, but not now. Shut up and let me see if I can
+figure out how to land this thing."</p>
+
+<p>He found that the fuel tanks were nearly full, but
+that still didn't leave much margin. Mars must have been
+notified by Everts and be ready to pick the raft up. He
+had to reach the wastelands away from any of the shuttle
+ports. They had no aspirators, however, and they
+couldn't cover much territory in the spacesuits they
+would have to use. It meant he'd have to land close to
+a village where he was known.</p>
+
+<p>He jockeyed the ship around by trial and error,
+studying the manual that was lying prominently on the
+control panel. According to the booklet, the ship was
+simple to operate. It was self-leveling in an atmosphere,
+and automatic flare computers were supposed to make
+it possible for an amateur to judge the rate of descent
+near the surface. It looked reassuring&mdash;and was probably
+written with that in mind.</p>
+
+<p>Finally he reached for the control, hoping he'd figured
+his landing orbit reasonably well by simple logic.
+He smoothed it out in the following hours as he
+watched the markings on Mars. When they were near
+turnover point, he began cranking the little gyroscope
+to swing the ship. It saved fuel to turn without power,
+and he wasn't sure he could have turned accurately by
+blasting.</p>
+
+<p>He was gaining some proficiency, however, he felt.
+But now he had to waste fuel and ruin his orbit again.
+There was no way to practice maneuvering without actually
+doing so.</p>
+
+<p>In the end, he compromised, leaving a small margin
+for a bad landing that would require a second attempt,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>
+but with less practice than he wanted.</p>
+
+<p>He had located Jake's village through the little telescope
+when he finally reached for the main blast control.
+The thin haze of Mars' atmosphere came rushing
+up, while the blast lashed out. Then they were in the
+outer fringes of the sky and the blast was beginning to
+show a corona that ruined visibility.</p>
+
+<p>He turned to the flare computer and back to what
+he could see through the quartz viewport. He was going
+to land about half a mile from the village, as nearly
+as he could judge.</p>
+
+<p>The computer seemed to work as it should. The
+speed was within acceptable limits. He gave up trying
+to see the ground and was forced to trust the machinery
+designed for amateur pilots. The flare bloomed, and
+he yanked down on the little lever.</p>
+
+<p>It could have been worse. They hit the ground,
+bounced twice, and turned over. The ship was a mess
+when Feldman freed himself from the elastic straps of
+the seat. Chris had shrieked as they hit, but she was unbuckling
+herself now.</p>
+
+<p>He threw her her spacesuit and one of the emergency
+bottles of oxygen from the rack. "Hurry up with
+that. We've sprung a leak and the pressure's dropping."</p>
+
+<p>They were halfway to the village when a dozen tractors
+came racing up and Jake piled out of the lead one
+to drag the two in with him.</p>
+
+<p>"Heard about it from the broadcasts and figured you
+might land around here. Good to see you, Doc." He
+started the tractor off at full speed, back to the wastelands,
+while Doc stared at the armed men who were
+riding the tractors.</p>
+
+<p>Jake caught his look and nodded. "You're in enemy
+territory, Doc. There's a war going on!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="XII" id="XII"></a>XII</h2>
+
+<h3>War</h3>
+
+
+<p>Sometimes it seemed to Doc that war was nothing
+but an endurance race to see how many times they
+could run before they were bombed. He was just beginning
+to drop off to sleep after a long trip for the
+sixth consecutive day when the little alarm shrilled. He
+sighed and shook Chris awake.</p>
+
+<p>"Again?" she protested. But she got up and began
+helping him pack.</p>
+
+<p>Jake came in, his eyes weary, pulling on the old
+jacket with the big star on its sleeve. Doc hadn't been
+too surprised to learn that Jake was the actual leader of
+the rebels. "Shuttles spotted taking off this way. And I
+still can't find where the leak is. They haven't missed
+our location once this week. Here, give me that."</p>
+
+<p>He took the electron mike that had been among Doc's'
+possessions, but Chris recaptured it. "I can manage,"
+she told him, and headed out for the tractor where Lou
+was waiting.</p>
+
+<p>Doc scowled after her. He and Jake had been watching
+her. She was too useful to Doc's research to be
+turned away, but they didn't trust her yet. So far, however,
+they had found nothing wrong with her conduct.
+Still....</p>
+
+<p>He swung suddenly into Jake's tractor. "Just remembered
+something. How'd they find me that time I
+stopped in the tractor to use the mike? I was pretty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span>
+well hidden, and no tracks last in the sand long enough
+for them to have followed. But they were there when
+I came to. Somehow, they must have put a radio tracer
+on me."</p>
+
+<p>Jake waited while they lighted up, his eyes suddenly
+bright. "You mean something you got from her house
+was bugged? It figures."</p>
+
+<p>"And I've still got all the stuff. Now they find wherever
+we set up headquarters, though they've always
+managed to miss my laboratory, even when they've hit
+the troops around us. Jake, I think it's the microscope."
+Doc managed to push enough junk off one of the seats
+to make a cramped bed, and stretched out. "Sure, we
+figured they sent her because they want to keep tabs
+on what I discover. They've finally gotten scared of the
+plague, and she's the perfect Judas goat. But they have
+to have some way to get in touch with her. I'll bet
+there's a tracer in the mike and a switch so she can
+modulate it or key it to send out Morse."</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Well, she does her own dirty
+work. I might get to like her if she was on our side.
+Okay, Doc. If they've put things into the mike, I've got
+a boy who'll find and fix it so she won't guess it's been
+touched."</p>
+
+<p>Doc relaxed. For the moment, there would be no
+power in the instrument, nor any excuse for her to use
+it. But she must have handled some secret arrangement
+during the work periods. She used the mike more than
+he did. The switch could be camouflaged easily enough.
+If anyone detected the signal, they'd probably only
+think it was some leak in the electrical circuit.</p>
+
+<p>Far away, the shuttle rockets had appeared as tiny
+dots in the sky. They were standing on their tails a second
+later, just off the ground, letting the full force of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>
+their blasts bake the area where headquarters had been.</p>
+
+<p>Jake watched grimly, driving by something close to
+instinct. Then he looked back. "Know anything about
+a Dr. Harkness?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not much, except that he protested sealing off the
+villages. Why?"</p>
+
+<p>"He and five other doctors were picked up, trying to
+get through to us. Claimed they wanted to give us medical
+help. We can use them, God knows. I guess I'll
+have to chance it."</p>
+
+<p>They stopped at a halfway village and hid the tractors
+before looking for a place to rest. Doc found Chris
+curled up asleep against the microscope. He had a hard
+time getting her to leave it in the tractor, but she was
+too genuinely tired to put up any real argument.</p>
+
+<p>Jake reported in the morning before they set out
+again. "You were right, Doc. It was a nice job of work.
+Must have taken the best guys in Southport to hide the
+circuit so well. But it's safe now. It just makes a kind
+of meaningless static nobody can trace. Maybe we can
+get you a permanent lab now."</p>
+
+<p>Doc debated again having Chris left behind and decided
+against it. The Lobby was determined to let him
+find a cure for them if he could. That meant Chris
+would work herself to exhaustion trying to help. Let
+her think she was doing it for the Lobby! It was time
+she was on the receiving end of a double cross.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a stinking way to run a war," he decided.</p>
+
+<p>Jake chuckled without much humor. "It's the war
+you wanted, remember? They forced our hand, but it
+had to come sometime. Right now the Lobby's fighting
+to get their hands on your work before we can use it;
+they're just using holding tactics, which helps our side.
+And we're hoping you get the cure so we can win.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span>
+With that, maybe we'll whip them."</p>
+
+<p>It was a crazy war, with each side killing more of its
+own men than of the enemy. The runners were increasing,
+and Jake's army was learning to shoot the poor
+devils mercifully and go on. They knew, at least, that
+there was no current danger of infection. In the Lobby
+towns, more were dying of panic in their efforts to escape
+the runners.</p>
+
+<p>Desert towns had joined the villages, reluctantly but
+inevitably, to give the rebels nearly three-quarters of
+the total population. But the Lobby forces and the few
+cities held most of the real fighting equipment and they
+were ready to wait until Earth could send out unmanned
+rockets, loaded with atomics, which could cut
+through space at ten times normal speed.</p>
+
+<p>There were vague lines of battle, but time was the
+vital factor. The Lobbies waited to steal a cure for the
+plague and the villages waited until they could announce
+it and demand surrender as its price.</p>
+
+<p>It looked as if both sides were doomed to disappointment,
+however. He and Chris had put in every spare
+minute between moving and the minimum of sleep in
+searching for something that would check the disease.
+It couldn't grow in an Earth-normal body, but it didn't
+die, either. And there wasn't enough normal food available
+to permit the switch-over for more than a handful
+of people. Even Earth was out of luck, since eighty percent
+of her population ate synthetics. There were ways
+to synthesize Earth-normal food, but they were still
+hopelessly inefficient.</p>
+
+<p>Jake had ordered one of the villages to rebuild their
+plant for such a purpose, while another was producing
+the enzyme that would permit switching. But it looked
+hopeless for more than a few of the most valuable men.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No progress?" Jake asked for the hundredth time.</p>
+
+<p>Doc grinned wryly. "A lot, but no help. We've found
+a fine accelerator for the bug. We can speed up its incubation
+or even make someone already infected catch
+it all over again. But we can't slow it down or stop it."</p>
+
+<p>The new laboratory was still being fitted when they
+arrived. It had been dug into one of the few real cliffs
+in this section of Mars. The power plant had been installed,
+complete with a steam plant that would operate
+off sunlight in the daytime through a series of heat
+valves that took in a lot of warm air and produced
+smaller amounts hot enough to boil water.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll see you whenever I can," Jake said. "But mostly,
+you're going to be somewhat isolated so they won't
+trace you. Let them think they goofed with the shuttles
+and hit you and Chris. Anything you need?"</p>
+
+<p>"Guinea pigs," Doc told him sarcastically. It was
+meant as a joke, though a highly bitter one. Jake
+nodded and left them.</p>
+
+<p>Doc opened the cots as Chris came in, not bothering
+to unpack the equipment. "Hit the sack, Chris," he told
+her.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him doubtfully. "You almost said that
+the way you'd address a human being, Dan. You're
+slipping. One of these days you'll like me again."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe." He was too tired to argue. "I doubt it,
+though. Forget it and get some sleep."</p>
+
+<p>She watched him silently until he got up to turn out
+the light. Then she sighed heavily. "Dan?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yeah?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never got a divorce. The publicity would have
+been bad. But anyway, we're still married."</p>
+
+<p>"That's nice." He swung to face her briefly. "And<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span>
+they found the radio in the microscope. Better get to
+sleep, Chris."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh." It was a quiet exclamation, barely audible.
+There was a sound that might have been a sniffle if it
+had come from anyone else. Then she rolled over. "All
+right, Dan. I still want to help you."</p>
+
+<p>He cursed himself for a stupid fool for telling her.
+Fatigue was ruining what judgment he had. From now
+on, he'd have to watch her every minute. Or had she
+really seen the value of the research by now? She
+wasn't a fool. It should have registered on even her
+stubborn mind. But he was too sleepy to think about it.</p>
+
+<p>She had breakfast ready in the morning. She made
+no comment on what had been said during the night.
+Instead, she began discussing a way to keep one of the
+organic antibiotics from splitting into simpler compounds
+when they tried to switch it over to Mars-normal.
+They were both hopelessly bad chemists and biologists,
+but there was no one else to do the work.</p>
+
+<p>Chris worked harder than ever during the day.</p>
+
+<p>Just after sundown, Jake came in with a heavy box.
+He dropped it onto the floor. "Mice!"</p>
+
+<p>Doc ripped off the cover, exposing fine screening.
+There were at least six dozen mice inside!</p>
+
+<p>"Harkness found them," Jake explained. "A hormone
+extraction plant used them for testing some of the products.
+Had them sent by regular shipments from Earth.
+Getting them cost a couple of men, but Harkness claims
+it's worth it. He's a good man on a raid. Here!"</p>
+
+<p>He'd gone to the doorway again and came back with
+another box, this one crammed with bottles and boxes.
+"They had quite a laboratory, and Harkness picked out
+whatever he thought you could use."</p>
+
+<p>Chris and Doc were going through it. The labels<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>
+were engineering ones, but the chemical formulae were
+identification enough. There were dozens of chemicals
+they hadn't hoped to get.</p>
+
+<p>"Anything else?" Doc finally asked as they began
+arranging the supplies.</p>
+
+<p>"More runners. A lot more. We're still holding things
+down, but it's reaching a limit. Panic will start in the
+camps if this keeps on. But that's my worry. You stick
+to yours."</p>
+
+<p>Several of the new chemicals showed promise in the
+tubes. But two of them proved fatal to the mice and
+the others were completely innocuous in the little animal's
+bodies, both to mouse and to germ. The plague
+was much hardier in contact with living cells than in
+the artificial environment of the culture jars.</p>
+
+<p>They lost seven mice in two days, but that seemed
+unimportant; the females were already living up to their
+reputations, nearly all pregnant. Doc didn't know the
+gestation period, but he remembered that it was short.</p>
+
+<p>"Funny they all started at the same time," he commented.
+"Must have been shipped out separately or
+else been kept apart while they were switched over to
+Mars-normal. Something interrupted their habits, anyhow."</p>
+
+<p>A few nights later they learned what it was. There
+was a horrible squealing that woke him out of the
+depths of his sleep. Chris was already at the light
+switch. As light came on, they turned to the mouse
+box.</p>
+
+<p>All the animals were charging about in their limited
+space, their little legs driving madly and their mouths
+open. What they lacked in size they made up in numbers,
+and the din was terrific.</p>
+
+<p>But it didn't last. One by one, the mice began drop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span>ping
+to the floor of the cage. In fifteen minutes, they
+were all dead!</p>
+
+<p>It was obviously the plague, contracted after having
+their metabolism switched. Women were sterile for
+some time after Selznik's migraine struck, and the same
+must have been true of the mice. They must have contracted
+the plague at about the same time and reached
+fertility together. Somehow, the plague incubation period
+had been shortened to fit their life span; the disease
+was nothing if not adaptive.</p>
+
+<p>Chris prepared a slide in dull silence. The familiar
+cell was there when Doc looked through the microscope.
+He picked up one of the little creatures and cut
+it open, removing one of the foetuses.</p>
+
+<p>"Make a film of that," he suggested.</p>
+
+<p>She worked rapidly, scraping out the almost microscopic
+brain, dissolving out the fatty substance, and
+transferring the result to a film. This time, even at full
+magnification, there was no sign of the filaments that
+were always present in diseased flesh. The results were
+the same for the other samples they made.</p>
+
+<p>"Something about the very young animal or a secretion
+from the mother's organs keeps the bug from
+working." Doc reached for a bracky weed and accepted
+a light from Chris without thinking of it. "Every kid
+I've heard about contracted the plague between the second
+and third year. None are born with it, none get it
+earlier. I've suspected this, but now here's confirmation."</p>
+
+<p>Chris began preparing specimens, while Doc got
+busy with tubes of the culture. They'd have to test
+various fluids from the tiny bodies, but there were
+enough cultures prepared. Then, if the substance only
+inhibited growth, there would be a long, slow test; if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+it killed the bugs, they might know more quickly.</p>
+
+<p>Jake came in before the final tests, but waited on
+them. Doc was studying a film in the microscope. He
+suddenly motioned excitedly for Chris.</p>
+
+<p>"See the filaments? They're completely disintegrated.
+And there's one of the big cells broken open. We've
+got it! It's in the blood of the foetus. And it must be
+in the blood of newborn children, too!"</p>
+
+<p>Jake looked at the slide, but his face was doubtful.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe you've got something, Doc. I hope so. And
+I hope you can use it." He shook his head wearily.
+"We need good news right now. A couple of big rockets
+just reached the station and they've been sending
+shuttles back and forth a mile a minute. Nobody can
+figure how they got here so fast or what they're for.
+But it doesn't look good for us!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="XIII" id="XIII"></a>XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>Susceptibility</h3>
+
+
+<p>Doc could feel the tension in the village where GHQ
+was temporarily located long before they were close
+enough for details to register. The people were gathered
+in clusters, staring at the sky where the station
+must be. A few were pacing up and down, gesticulating
+with tight sweeps of their arms.</p>
+
+<p>One woman suddenly went into even more violent
+action. She leaped into the air and then took off at a
+rapid trot, then a run. Her hands were tearing at her
+clothes and her mouth seemed to be working violently.
+She was halfway to the top of the nearest dune before
+a rifle cracked. She dropped, to twitch once and lie
+still.</p>
+
+<p>Almost with her death, another figure leaped from
+one of the houses, his face bare of the necessary aspirator.
+He took off at a violent run, but he was falling
+from lack of air before the bullet ended his struggles.</p>
+
+<p>The people suddenly began to move apart, as if trying
+to get away from each other. For weeks they had
+faced the horror with courage; now it was finally too
+much for them.</p>
+
+<p>Tension mounted as no news came from the cities.
+Doc noticed that it seemed to aggravate or speed up
+the disease. He saw three men shot in the next half-hour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He was trying to calm them with word of a possible
+cure for the plague, but their reactions were as curiously
+dull as those of Jake had been. As he spoke, they
+faced him with set expressions. At his mention of the
+need for the blood of young children, they turned from
+him, sullenly silent.</p>
+
+<p>Jake came over, nodding unhappily. "It's what I was
+afraid might happen, Doc. George Lynn! Tell Doc
+what's wrong."</p>
+
+<p>Lynn was reluctant, but he finally stumbled out his
+explanation. "It ain't like you, Doc. Comes from that
+Lobby woman you got. It's her dirty idea. We've seen
+the Lobby doctors cutting open our kids, poisoning
+their blood, and bleeding them dry. That ain't gonna
+happen again, Doc. You tell her it ain't!"</p>
+
+<p>Doc swore as he realized their ignorance. An unexplained
+vaccination looked like poisoning of the blood.
+But he couldn't understand the bleeding part until Jake
+filled him in.</p>
+
+<p>"Northport infant's wing. Each department has its
+own blood bank and donation is compulsory. Southport
+started it a couple months ago, too."</p>
+
+<p>The long arm of the Lobby had reached out again.
+Now if he ever got them to try the treatment, it would
+be only after long sessions of preparing them with the
+facts, and there was hardly enough time for the crucial
+work!</p>
+
+<p>By afternoon, Judge Ben Wilson reached them. His
+voice shook with fatigue as he climbed up to address
+the crowd through a power megaphone. "Southport's
+going crazy." He had to pause for breath between each
+sentence. "Earth's pulling back all the important people.
+They're packing them into the ships. They're leaving
+only colonials with no Earth rights. Those ships left<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span>
+when they decided the plague was coming from here.
+They won't let anybody back until the plague is licked.
+There won't be an Earth technician on Mars tomorrow."</p>
+
+<p>"No bombs?" someone called.</p>
+
+<p>"No bombs. The ships must have started before you
+rebelled, maybe meant honestly to save their own kind.
+But now it's a military action, and don't think it won't
+mean trouble. The poor devils in the city bet on the
+wrong horse. Now they can't run their food factories
+or anything else for long. Not without technicians.
+They've got to whip you now. Up to this time, they've
+been fighting for the Lobbies. Now they'll fight you
+for their own bellies to get your supplies. And they've
+still got shuttle rockets and fuel for them. Now beat it.
+I gotta confer with Jake."</p>
+
+<p>Doc started after the judge, but Dr. Harkness caught
+his arm and drew him aside. Chris followed.</p>
+
+<p>"I've found another epidemic," Harkness told them.
+"Over at Marconi. It's kept me on the run all night,
+and now half the village is down with it. Starts like a
+common cold, runs a fair fever, and the skin breaks out
+all over with bright red dots...."</p>
+
+<p>He went on describing it. Chris began asking him
+about what medical supplies he had brought with him,
+pilfered from Northport hospital. She seemed to know
+what it was, but refused to say until she saw the cases.
+Doc also preferred to wait. Sometimes things weren't
+as bad as they seemed, though usually they were worse.</p>
+
+<p>Marconi was dead to all outward appearances, with
+nobody on the streets. It had been a village of great
+hopes a week before, since this was where they had
+decided to experiment with switching the people back
+to Earth-normal. They'd had the best chance of sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span>vival
+of anyone on Mars until this came up.</p>
+
+<p>Three people lay on the beds in the first house Harkness
+led them to. The room was darkened, and a man
+was stumbling around, trying to tend the others, though
+the little spots showed on his skin. He grinned weakly.
+"Hi, Doc. I guess we're making a lot of trouble, ain't
+we?"</p>
+
+<p>Chris gave Doc no chance to answer. "Just as I
+thought. Measles! Plain old-fashioned measles."</p>
+
+<p>"Figured so," the sick man said. "Like my brother
+back on Earth."</p>
+
+<p>The others looked doubtful, but Doc reassured them.
+Chris should know; she'd worked in a swanky hospital
+where the patients were mostly Earth-normal. Measles
+was one of the diseases which was foiled by the metabolism
+switch. Well, at least they wouldn't have to be
+quarantined here.</p>
+
+<p>Chris finished treating the family with impersonal efficiency,
+discussing the symptoms loudly with Harkness.
+"It's a good thing it isn't serious!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," Harkness answered bitterly. "Not serious. It's
+only killed five children and three adults so far!"</p>
+
+<p>"It would, here," Doc agreed unhappily. He led Chris
+out of the room on the pretext of washing his hands.
+"It's serious enough to force us to abandon the whole
+idea of going back to Earth-normal. Measles today,
+smallpox, tuberculosis, scarlet fever and everything else
+tomorrow. These people have lived Mars-normal so long
+their natural immunity has been destroyed. On Earth
+where the disease was everywhere, kids used to pick
+up some immunity with constant exposure, even without
+what might be called a case of the disease. Here,
+the blood has no reason to build antibodies. They can
+be killed by things people used to laugh at. How the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span>
+disease got here, I don't know. But it's here. So we'll
+have to give up the idea of switching back to Earth-normal."</p>
+
+<p>He gathered up one of the kits and started toward
+the other houses. "And Lord knows how long it will
+take to get the blood for the other treatment, even if
+it works."</p>
+
+<p>They worked as a team for a while, with Harkness
+frowning as he watched Chris. Finally the young doctor
+stopped Chris outside the fifth house. "These are
+my patients, Dr. Ryan. I left the Lobby because I didn't
+believe colonials were mere livestock. I still feel the
+same. I appreciate your help in diagnosis and methods
+of treatment. But I can't let you handle my patients
+this way."</p>
+
+<p>"Dan!" She swung around with eyes glazing. "Dan,
+are you going to stand for that?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think you'd better wait in the tractor, Chris."</p>
+
+<p>He was lucky enough to catch the kit she threw at
+him before its precious contents spilled. But it wasn't
+luck that guided his hand to the back of her skirt hard
+enough to leave it stinging.</p>
+
+<p>Her face froze and she stormed out. A moment later
+they heard the tractor start off.</p>
+
+<p>But Doc had no time to think of her. He and Harkness
+split up and began covering the streets, house by
+house, while he passed on the word to abandon the metabolism
+switch and go back to Mars-normal.</p>
+
+<p>Jake sent two other doctors to relieve them late in
+the evening. Things were somewhat quieter at GHQ
+as Doc reported the events at Marconi.</p>
+
+<p>"Where's Dr. Ryan?" Jake asked at last.</p>
+
+<p>Doc exchanged glances with Harkness. "She isn't in
+the lab?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Wasn't there an hour ago."</p>
+
+<p>Doc cursed himself for letting her go. With the
+knowledge that the radio in the mike was disabled,
+she'd obviously grabbed the first chance to report back.
+And with her had gone news of the only cure they
+had found.</p>
+
+<p>Jake took it as philosophically as he could, though it
+was a heavy blow to his hopes. They spent half the
+night looking for her tractor, on the chance that she
+might have gotten lost or broken down, but there was
+no sign of it.</p>
+
+<p>She was waiting in the laboratory when he returned
+at dawn. Her face was dirty and her uniform was a
+mess. But she was smiling. She got up to greet him,
+holding out two large bottles.</p>
+
+<p>"Infant plasma&mdash;straight from Southport. And if you
+think I had it easy lying my way in and out of the
+hospital, you're a fool, Dan Feldman. If the man who
+took my place there hadn't been a native idiot, I never
+would have gotten away with it."</p>
+
+<p>The things he had suspected could still be right, he
+realized. She could have reported everything to the
+Lobby. It was a better explanation than her vague account
+of bullying her way in and out. But she'd had a
+rough drive, and he wanted the plasma. Curiously, he
+was glad to have her back with him. He reached out a
+hand for the bottles.</p>
+
+<p>She put the bottle on the table and grabbed up a
+short-bladed knife. "Not so fast," she cried. Her eyes
+were blazing now. "Dan Feldman, if you touch those
+bottles until you've crawled across the floor on your
+face and apologized for the way you treated me the last
+few days, I'll cut your damned heart out."</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head, chuckling at the picture she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
+made. There were times when he could almost see why
+he'd married her.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Chris," he gave in. "I'll be darned if I'll
+crawl, but you've earned an apology. Okay?"</p>
+
+<p>She sighed uncertainly. Then she nodded and began
+changing for work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="XIV" id="XIV"></a>XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>Immunity</h3>
+
+
+<p>They worked through the day in what seemed to be
+armed truce. There was no coffee waiting for him when
+he awoke next, as he'd come to expect, but he didn't
+comment. He went to where she was already working,
+checking on the results of the plasma on the cultures.</p>
+
+<p>The response had been slower than with the mouse
+blood, but now the bugs seemed to be dead. The filaments
+were destroyed, and there were no signs of the
+big cells. It seemed to be a cure, at least in the culture
+bottles.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll need volunteers," he decided. "There should
+be animals, but we don't have any. At least this stuff
+isn't toxic. We need a natural immune and someone infected.
+Two of each, so one can be treated and the
+other used for a control. Makes four. Not enough to
+be sure, but it will have to do."</p>
+
+<p>"Two," Chris corrected. "You're not infected, I am."</p>
+
+<p>"Two others," he agreed. "I'll get them from Jake."</p>
+
+<p>Most of GHQ was out on the street, but Doc found
+Jake inside the big schoolroom where he enjoyed his
+early morning bracky and coffee. The chief listened
+and agreed at once, turning to the others in the room.</p>
+
+<p>"Who's had the jumping headache? Okay, Swanee.
+Who never had it?" He blinked in surprise as three men
+nodded out of the eight present. "I guess you go, Tom."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The two men stood up, tamping out their weeds, and
+went out with Doc.</p>
+
+<p>Chris had everything set up. They matched coins to
+decide who would be treated. Doc noticed that Chris
+would get no plasma, while he was scheduled for everything.
+He watched her prepare the culture and add the
+accelerator that would speed development and make
+certain he and Tom were infected, then let her inject it.</p>
+
+<p>That was all, except for the waiting. To keep conditions
+more closely alike, they were to stay there until
+the tests were finished, not even eating for fear of upsetting
+the conditions. Swanee dug out a pack of worn
+cards and began to deal while Doc dug out some large
+pills to use as chips.</p>
+
+<p>It was an hour later when the pain began. Doc had
+just won the pot of fifty pills and opened his mouth
+for the expected gloating. He yelled as an explosion
+seemed to go off inside his head. Even closing his
+mouth was agony.</p>
+
+<p>A moment later, Tom began to sweat. It got worse,
+spreading to the whole area of the back of the head
+and neck. Doc lay on the cot, envying Chris and Swanee
+who had already been infected naturally. He longed
+desperately for bracky, and had to keep reminding himself
+that no drugs must upset the tests. It was the longest
+day he had ever spent, and he began to doubt that
+he could get through it. He watched the little clock
+move from one minute to nine over to half a minute
+and hung breathless until it hit the nine. There was
+no question about whether the infection had taken.
+Now they could dull the agony.</p>
+
+<p>Chris had the anodyne tablets already dissolved in
+water, and Swanee was passing out three lighted bracky
+weeds. It took a few minutes for the relief of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span>
+anodyne, and even that couldn't kill all the pain. But
+it didn't matter by comparison. He sucked the weed,
+mashed it out and began dealing the cards again.</p>
+
+<p>They had a plentiful supply of the anodyne and used
+it liberally during the night. The test was a speeded-up
+simulation of the natural course of the disease, where
+painkiller would take time to get for most people here,
+but would then be used generously.</p>
+
+<p>Precisely at nine in the morning, Chris began to inject
+Swanee and Doc with plasma.</p>
+
+<p>Now there was no thought of cards. They waited,
+trying to talk, but with most of their attention on the
+clock. Doc had estimated that an hour should be enough
+to show results, but it was hard to remember that an
+hour was the guess as to the minimum time.</p>
+
+<p>He winced as Chris took a tiny bit of flesh from his
+neck. She went to the other men, and then submitted
+to his work on herself. Then she began preparing the
+slides.</p>
+
+<p>"Feldman," she read the name of the slide as she inserted
+it into the microscope. Then her breath caught
+sharply. "Only dead cells!"</p>
+
+<p>It was the same for Swanee and Tom. Each had to
+look at his own slide and have it explained before the
+results could be believed. But at last Chris bent over
+her own slide. A minute later she glanced up, nodding.
+"What it should be. It checks."</p>
+
+<p>Tom whooped and went out the door to notify Jake.
+There was only plasma for some two hundred injections,
+but that should yield sufficient proof. Once salvation
+was offered, there should be no trouble convincing
+the people that blood donations from their children
+were worthwhile.</p>
+
+<p>Later, when the last of the plasma had been used,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span>
+they could finally relax. Chris slipped off her smock
+and dropped onto the cot. A tired smile came onto her
+lips. "You're forgiven, Dan," she said. A moment later
+she was obviously asleep. Doc meant to join her, but
+it was too much effort. He leaned his head forward
+onto his arms, vaguely wondering why she was calling
+off the feud.</p>
+
+<p>It was night outside when he awoke, and he was lying
+on the cot, though he still felt cramped and
+strained. He stirred, groaning, and finally realized that
+a hand was on his shoulder shaking him. He looked up
+to see Jake above him. Chris was busy with the coffee
+maker.</p>
+
+<p>Jake slumped onto the cot beside Doc. "We took
+Southport," he announced.</p>
+
+<p>That knocked the sleep out of Doc's system. "You
+what?"</p>
+
+<p>"We took it, lock, stock and barrel. I figured the
+news of your cure would put guts into the men, and
+it did. But we'd probably have taken it anyhow. There
+wasn't anything to fight for there after Earth pulled out
+and the plague really hit. Wilson mistook last-minute
+panic for fighting spirit. The poor devils didn't have
+anything to fight about, once the Lobby stopped goading
+them."</p>
+
+<p>Doc tried to assimilate the news. But once the surprise
+was gone, he found it meant very little. Maybe
+his revolutionary zeal had cooled, once the Lobby men
+had pulled out. "We'll need a lot more plasma than
+there is in Southport," he said.</p>
+
+<p>"Not so much, maybe," Jake denied. "Doc, three of
+the men you injected were shot down as runners. Your
+plasma's no good."</p>
+
+<p>"It takes time to work, Jake. I told you there might<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>
+be a case or two that would be too close to the edge.
+Three is more than I expected; but it's not impossible."</p>
+
+<p>"There was plenty of time. They blew after we got
+back from Southport." Jack dropped his hand on Doc's
+shoulder, and his face softened. "Harkness tested every
+man you injected. He finished half an hour ago. Five
+showed dead bugs. The rest of them weren't helped
+at all."</p>
+
+<p>Doc fumbled for a weed, trying to think. But his
+thoughts refused to focus. "Five!"</p>
+
+<p>"Five out of two hundred. That's about average. And
+what about Tom? He was jumping around after the
+test last night, telling how you'd cured him, how he'd
+seen the dead bugs; but he never had the jumping
+headache, and you never gave him the plasma! He's got
+dead bugs, though. Harkness tested him."</p>
+
+<p>Doc let his realization of his own idiocy sink in until
+he could believe it. Jake was right. Tom had never
+been treated, yet Chris had reported dead bugs. They'd
+all been so ready to believe in miracles that no one had
+been able to think straight after the long wait.</p>
+
+<p>"There was a bump on his neck&mdash;a small one," he
+said slowly. "Jake, he must have caught it, even if he
+seemed immune. If he was taking anodyne anyway for
+something&mdash;or unconscious&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"He was up in Northport six years ago for a kidney
+operation," Jake admitted doubtfully. "We had to chip
+in to pay for it. But you still didn't treat him, and he's
+cured. Face it, Doc, that plasma is no good inside the
+body."</p>
+
+<p>His hand tightened on Doc's shoulder again. "We're
+not blaming you. We don't judge a man here except by
+what he is. Maybe the stuff helps a little. We'll go on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span>
+using it when we get it; tell everybody you were a mite
+optimistic, so they'll figure it's a gamble, but have a little
+hope left. And you keep trying. Something cured
+it in Tom. Now you find out what."</p>
+
+<p>Doc watched him go out numbly, and turned to
+Chris.</p>
+
+<p>"It can't be right," she said shakily. "You and Swanee
+were cured. Maybe it was the accelerator. It had to be
+something."</p>
+
+<p>"You didn't have the accelerator," he accused.</p>
+
+<p>"No, and I've still got live bugs. I was never supposed
+to be cured, so I expected to see just what I saw.
+How I missed the fact that Tom should have been
+like me, I don't know. Damn it, oh, damn it!"</p>
+
+<p>He's never seen her cry before, except in fury. But
+she mastered it almost at once, shaking tears out of her
+eyes. "All right. Plasma works in a bottle but not in
+an adult body. Maybe something works in the body
+but not in a bottle."</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe. And maybe some people are just naturally
+immune after it reaches a certain stage. Maybe we ran
+into coincidence."</p>
+
+<p>But he didn't believe that, any more than she did.
+The answer had to be in the room. He'd taken a massive
+dose of the disease and been cured in a few hours.</p>
+
+<p>Outside the room, the war went on, drawing toward
+a close. The supposed partial cure was good propaganda,
+if nothing else, and Jake was widening his territory
+steadily. There was only token resistance against
+him. He had the Southport shuttles now to cover huge
+areas in a hurry. But inside the room, the battle was
+less successful. It wasn't the accelerator. It wasn't the
+tablets of anodyne. They even tried sweeping the floor
+and using the dust without results.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Then another test in the room, made with four volunteers
+Jake selected, yielded complete cures after injections
+with plain salt water in place of plasma.</p>
+
+<p>The plague speeded up again. About four people out
+of a hundred now seemed to have caught the disease
+and cured themselves. They accounted for what faith
+was left in Doc's plasma and gave some unfounded hope
+to the others.</p>
+
+<p>Northport fell a week later, putting the whole planet
+in rebel hands.</p>
+
+<p>Jake returned, wearier than ever. He'd proved to be
+one of the natural immunes, but the weight of the
+campaign that could only end in a defeat by the plague
+left him no room to rejoice in his personal fortune.</p>
+
+<p>This time he looked completely defeated. And a moment
+later, Doc saw why as Jake flipped a flimsy sheet
+onto the table. It bore the seals of Space and Medical
+Lobbies.</p>
+
+<p>Jake pointed upwards. "The war rockets are there,
+all right. We knew they'd come. Now all they want
+for calling them off is our surrender and your cure.
+If they don't get both, they'll blow the planet to bits.
+We have two days."</p>
+
+<p>The rockets could be seen clearly with binoculars.
+There were more than enough to destroy all life on the
+planet. Maybe they'd be used eventually, anyhow, since
+the Lobbies wanted no more rebellion. But with a cure
+for the plague, he might have bought them off.</p>
+
+<p>Chris stood beside him, looking as if it were a bitter
+pill for her, too. She'd risked herself in the hands of
+the enemy, had cooperated with him in everything
+she'd been taught to oppose, and had worked like a dog.
+Now the Lobbies seemed to forget her as a useless tool.
+They were falling back on a raw power play and for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span>getting
+any earlier schemes.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe they'd hold off for a while if I agreed to go
+to them and share all my ideas, specimens and notes,"
+he said at last. "Do you think your Lobby would settle
+for that, Chris?"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know, Dan. I've stopped thinking their way."
+She seemed almost apologetic for the admission.</p>
+
+<p>He dropped an arm over her shoulder and turned
+with her back to the laboratory. "Okay, then we've got
+to find a miracle. We've got two days ahead of us. At
+least we can try."</p>
+
+<p>But he knew he was lying to himself. There wasn't
+anything he could think of to try.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="XV" id="XV"></a>XV</h2>
+
+<h3>Decision</h3>
+
+
+<p>Two days was never enough time for a miracle. Doc
+decided as he packed his notes into a small bag and
+put it beside his bundle of personal belongings. He
+glanced around the room for the last time, and managed
+a grin at Jake's gloomy expression.</p>
+
+<p>"Maybe I can bluff them, or maybe they'll string
+along for a while," he said. "Anyhow, now that they've
+agreed to take me and my notes in place of the cure
+we're fresh out of, I've got to be on that shuttle when
+it goes back to their men at orbital station."</p>
+
+<p>Jake nodded. "I don't like selling friends down the
+river, Doc. But it wouldn't do you any more good to
+blow up with the planet, I reckon. They won't call off
+the war rockets when they do get you, of course. But
+maybe they won't use them, except as a threat to put
+the Lobbies back in, stronger than ever."</p>
+
+<p>He stuck out one of his awkwardly shaped hands,
+clapped the aspirator over his face and hurried out.
+Doc picked up his bags and went toward the little tractor
+where Lou was waiting to drive him and Chris back
+toward Southport and the shuttle rocket that would be
+landing for them. They hadn't mentioned Chris in their
+demands, but her father must expect her to return.</p>
+
+<p>After they had him, he'd be on his own. His best
+course was probably to insist on talking only to Ryan
+at Medical Lobby, and then being completely honest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>
+The room here would be kept sealed, in case the Lobby
+wanted to investigate where he had failed. And his notes
+were honest, which was something that could usually
+be determined. Chris could testify to that, anyhow,
+since she'd kept a lot of them for him.</p>
+
+<p>At best, there would be a chance for some compromise
+and perhaps some clue for them that might eventually
+end the plague. They had enough men to work
+on it, and billions in equipment. At worst, he should
+gain a little time.</p>
+
+<p>"Cheer up, Chris," he told her as he climbed through
+the little airlock. "Maybe Harkness will turn up the
+cure before our negotiations break down. He has the
+whole of Northport Hospital to play with. They
+haven't tried to chase him out of there yet. After all,
+we almost found something with no equipment except
+wild imaginations."</p>
+
+<p>She shook her head as the tractor began moving.
+"Shut up! I've got enough trouble without your coming
+down with logorrhea. Don't be a fool."</p>
+
+<p>"Why change now?" he asked her. "Everything I've
+done has been because I am a fool. I guess my luck
+lasted longer than I could expect. And I'm still fool
+enough to think that the solution has to turn up eventually.
+We know it has to be in that room. Damn it,
+we must know it&mdash;if we could only think straight now."</p>
+
+<p>She reached over and touched his hand, but made
+no comment. They had been over that statement of
+desperation too many times already. But it kept nagging
+at him&mdash;something in the room, something in the
+room! Something so common that nobody noticed it!</p>
+
+<p>They passed a crowd chasing down a runner. Something
+in that room could have saved the unlucky man.
+It could have saved Mars, perhaps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>He growled for the hundredth time, cursing his fatigue-numbed
+mind. Too little sleep, too much coffee
+and bracky....</p>
+
+<p>He reached for the package of weed, realizing that
+he would miss it on Earth, if he ever got there. Like
+everything here on the planet, he'd begun by detesting
+it and wound up finding it the thing he wanted to
+keep forever. He lighted the bracky and sat smoking,
+watching Lou drive. When the first was finished, he
+lighted another from the butt.</p>
+
+<p>She put out a hand and took it away. "Please, Dan.
+I can stand the stuff, but I'll never like it, and the tractor's
+stuffy enough already. I've taken enough of it.
+And it keeps reminding me of our test&mdash;the three of
+you stinking up the place, puffing and blowing that
+out, while I couldn't even get a breath of air...."</p>
+
+<p>She was getting logorrhea herself now and&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>The answer finally hit him! He jerked around, making
+a grab for Lou's shoulder, motioning for the man
+to head back.</p>
+
+<p>"Bracky&mdash;it has to be! Chris, that's it. Jake picked
+out the second group of men from his friends&mdash;and
+they are all cronies because they hang around so much
+in their so-called smoking room. The first time, it killed
+the bugs for all of us who smoked&mdash;and it didn't work
+for you because you never learned the habit."</p>
+
+<p>Lou had the tractor turned and the rheostat all the
+way to the floor.</p>
+
+<p>She was sitting up now, but she wasn't fully satisfied.
+"The percentage of immunes seems about right. But
+why do some of the smokers get the disease while some
+don't?"</p>
+
+<p>"Why not? It depends on whether they pick up the
+habit before or after the disease gets started. Tom must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span>
+have got his while he was in Northport. They wouldn't
+let him smoke there&mdash;if he had the habit before, for
+that matter."</p>
+
+<p>She found no fault with that. He twisted it back and
+forth in his mind, trying to find a fault. There seemed
+to be none. The only trouble was that they couldn't
+send a message that bracky was the cure and hope that
+Earth would prove it true. No polite note of apology
+would do after that. They had to be sure. Too many
+other ideas had proved wrong already.</p>
+
+<p>Jake saw them coming and came running toward the
+laboratory, but Lou stopped the tractor before it
+reached the building and let the older man in.</p>
+
+<p>"Get me a dozen men who have the plague. I want
+the worst cases you have, and ones that Harkness tested
+himself," Doc ordered. "And then start praying that
+the cure we've got works fast."</p>
+
+<p>Chris was at the electron mike at once, but one of
+her hands reached out for the weed. She began puffing
+valiantly, making sick faces. Now other men began
+coming in, their faces struggling to find hope, but not
+daring to believe yet. Jake followed them.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll test at ten-minute intervals. That will be about
+two hours for the last from the group," Doc decided.
+One of the doctors Harkness had brought to the villages
+was busy cutting tiny sections from the lumps on
+the men's necks, while Chris ran them through the microscope
+to make sure the bugs were still alive. The
+regular optical mike was strong enough for that.</p>
+
+<p>Doc handed each man a bracky weed, with instructions
+to keep smoking, no matter how sick it made him.</p>
+
+<p>There were no results at the end of ten minutes
+when the first test was made. The second, at the end of
+twenty minutes, was still infected with live bugs. At<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>
+the half-hour, Chris frowned.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't be sure&mdash;take a look, Dan."</p>
+
+<p>He bent over, moving the slide to examine another
+spot. "I think so. The next one should tell."</p>
+
+<p>There was no doubt about the fourth test. The bugs
+were dead, without a single exception that they could
+find.</p>
+
+<p>One by one, the men were tested and went storming
+out, shouting the news. For a minute, the gathering
+crowd was skeptical, remembering the other failures.
+Then, abruptly, men were screaming, crying and fighting
+for the precious bracky, like the legions of the
+damned grabbing for lottery tickets when the prize was
+a passport to paradise.</p>
+
+<p>Jake swore as he moved toward the door. "We're low
+on bracky here. Have to get a supply from Edison,
+I guess, and cart it to the shuttle. Enough for a sample,
+and to make them want more. It'll be tough, but
+we'll get it there in time&mdash;by the time the shuttle should
+be picking you up. Doc, you've won our war! From
+now on, if Earth wants to keep her population up, we'll
+be a free planet!"</p>
+
+<p>Chris turned slowly from the microscope, holding a
+slide in her hands. "My bugs," she said unbelievingly.
+"Dan, they're dead!"</p>
+
+<p>Jake patted her shoulder. "That makes it perfect,
+girl. Now come on. We've got to start celebrating a
+victory!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>It was the general feeling of most of the heads of the
+villages when they met the next day in Southport, using
+the courtroom that had been presided over so long by
+Judge Ben Wilson. It was victory, and to the victor
+belonged the spoils. The bracky had gone out to Earth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>
+on a converted war rocket that could make the trip in
+less than two weeks, and one packet had been specially
+labeled for Captain Everts. But Earth had already confirmed
+the cure. The small amounts of the herb found
+in the botanical collections had been enough to satisfy
+all doubts.</p>
+
+<p>Harkness, Chris and Doc had been fighting against
+the desire to rob Earth blind that filled most of the
+men here for hours now. Now they had the backing
+of Jake and Ben Wilson. And now finally they leaned
+back, sensing that the argument had been won.</p>
+
+<p>Bargaining was all right in its place, but it had no
+place in affairs of life and death such as this. They
+had to see that Earth received all the bracky she
+needed. It was only right to charge a fair price for it,
+but they couldn't restrict it by withholding or overcharging.
+And they could still gain their ends without
+blackmail.</p>
+
+<p>Martian alkaloids were tricky things, and bracky
+smoke contained a number of them. It would take Earth
+at least ten years to discover and synthesize the right
+one&mdash;and it would still probably cost more than it
+would to import the weed from Mars. As long as the
+source of that weed was here, and in the hands of the
+colonials, there would be no danger of Earth's bombing
+the planet.</p>
+
+<p>Harkness got up to underscore a point Wilson had
+made. "The plague lived a million years, and it won't
+disappear now. The jumping headache, or <ins class="correction" title="Transcriber's Note: Original had 'Selnick's'.">Selznick's</ins> migraine,
+is unpleasant enough to make us reasonably sure
+that there will be a steady consumption of the weed.
+Our problem will be to keep the children from using
+too much of it, probably." He pulled a weed out and
+lighted it, puckering his face as the smoke bit his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span>
+tongue. "I'm told that this gets to be an enjoyable habit.
+If I can believe that, surely you can believe me when
+I say we don't have to bargain with lives."</p>
+
+<p>The village men were human, and most of them
+could remember the strain they had been under when
+they expected those they loved to die at any hour. It
+had made them crave vengeance, but now as they had
+a chance to reexamine it, they began to find it harder
+to impose the horror of any such threat on others. The
+final vote was almost unanimous.</p>
+
+<p>Doc listened as they wrangled over the wording of
+the message to Earth, feeling disconnected from it. He
+passed Chris a bracky and lighted it for her. She took
+it automatically, smiling as the smoke hit her lungs. It
+was one thing they had in common now, at least.</p>
+
+<p>Ben Wilson finally read the message.</p>
+
+<p>"To the people of Earth, greetings!</p>
+
+<p>"On behalf of the free people of Mars, I have the
+honor to announce that this planet hereby declares itself
+a sovereign and independent world. We shall continue
+to regard Earth as our mother, and to consider
+the health and welfare of her people in no way second
+to our own in matters which affect both planets. We
+trust that Earth will share this feeling of mutual friendship.
+We trust that all strains of hostility will be ended.
+The advantages to each from peaceful commerce make
+any course other than the most cordial of relations unthinkable.</p>
+
+<p>"We shall consider proof of such friendship an order
+by Earth to all rockets circling this planet that they
+shall deliver themselves safely into our hands, in order
+that we may begin converting them to peaceful purposes
+for the trade that is to come. In turn, we pledge
+that all efforts will be made to ensure a prompt de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span>livery
+of those products most in demand, including the
+curative bracky plant."</p>
+
+<p>He turned to Doc then. "You want to sign it, Dr.
+Feldman? Make it as acting president or something, until
+we can get around to voting you into permanent
+office."</p>
+
+<p>"You and Jake fight over the job," Doc told him.
+"No, Ben, I mean it."</p>
+
+<p>He got up and moved out into the outer room, where
+he could avoid the stares of amazement that were
+turned to him. He'd never asked for the honor, and he
+didn't want it.</p>
+
+<p>Chris came with him. Her face was shocked and
+something was slowly draining out of it as he looked
+at her.</p>
+
+<p>"Forget it, Chris," he said. "You're going back to
+Earth. There is nothing for you here."</p>
+
+<p>She hadn't quite given up. "There could be, Dan.
+You know that."</p>
+
+<p>"No. No, Chris, I don't think there ever can be. You
+can't find a man strong enough to rule who'll be weak
+enough to let you rule in his place. It didn't work on
+Earth, and it won't work here. Forget the dreams you
+had of what could be done with a new planet. Those
+are the dreams that made a mess of the old one."</p>
+
+<p>"I'll be back," she told him. "Some day I'll be back."</p>
+
+<p>He shook his head again. "No. You wouldn't like
+what you find here. Freedom is heady stuff, but you
+have to have a taste for it. You can't acquire a fondness
+for it secondhand. And for a while, there's going
+to be freedom here. Besides, once you get back to
+Earth, you'll forget what happened here."</p>
+
+<p>She sighed at last. For the first time since he had
+known her, she seemed to give in completely. And for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span>
+that brief moment, he loved what she could have been,
+but never would be.</p>
+
+<p>"All right, Dan," she said quietly. "I can't fight you.
+I never could, I see now. I'll take the rocket back.
+What are you going to do?"</p>
+
+<p>He hadn't bothered to think, but he knew the answer.
+"Research. What else?"</p>
+
+<p>There would be a lot of research done here. It had
+been suppressed too long, and had piled up a back-pressure
+that would have to be relieved. And from that
+research, he suspected, would come the end of the stable
+oligarchy of Earth. It could never stand against the
+changes that would be pouring out of Mars.</p>
+
+<p>She put her hands on his shoulders and moved forward
+to kiss him. He bent down to meet her, and
+found her eyes were wet. Maybe his were, too. Then
+she broke free.</p>
+
+<p>"You're a fool, Dan Feldman," she whispered, and
+began moving down the hallway and out of the council
+hall of Mars.</p>
+
+<p>Doc Feldman nodded slowly as he let her go. He
+was a fool. He had always been a fool, and always
+would be. And that was why he could never take over
+leadership here. Fools and idealists should never govern
+a world. It took practical men such as Jake to do that.</p>
+
+<p>But the practical men needed the foolish idealists, too.
+And maybe for a time here on Mars their kind of men
+and his kind of fools could make one more stab at the
+ancient puzzle of freedom.</p>
+
+<p>Outside the war rockets of Earth began landing
+quietly on the free soil of Mars.</p>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 65%;' />
+
+
+<h2>ANDRE NORTON</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>051615</td><td align='left'><b>Beast Master</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>092668</td><td align='left'><b>Catseye</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>123117</td><td align='left'><b>The Crossroads of Time</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>137950</td><td align='left'><b>Dark Piper</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>139923</td><td align='left'><b>Daybreak, 2250 A.D.</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>142323</td><td align='left'><b>Defiant Agents</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>166694</td><td align='left'><b>Dread Companion</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>223651</td><td align='left'><b>Exiles of the Stars</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>272260</td><td align='left'><b>Galactic Derelict</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>337014</td><td align='left'><b>High Sorcery</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>354217</td><td align='left'><b>Huon of the Horn</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>358408</td><td align='left'><b>Ice Crown</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>415513</td><td align='left'><b>Judgment on Janus</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>436725</td><td align='left'><b>Key Out of Time</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>471615</td><td align='left'><b>The Last Planet</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>492363</td><td align='left'><b>Lord of Thunder</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>541011</td><td align='left'><b>Moon of Three Rings</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>577510</td><td align='left'><b>Night of Masks</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>634105</td><td align='left'><b>Operation Time Search</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>638213</td><td align='left'><b>Ordeal In Otherwhere</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>668319</td><td align='left'><b>Plague Ship</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>675553</td><td align='left'><b>Postmarked the Stars</b> 75c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                24C<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ANDRE NORTON</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>696823</td><td align='left'><b>Quest Crosstime</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>749812</td><td align='left'><b>Sargasso of Space</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>756957</td><td align='left'><b>Sea Siege</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>758318</td><td align='left'><b>Secret of the Lost Race</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>759910</td><td align='left'><b>Shadow Hawk</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>768010</td><td align='left'><b>The Sioux Spaceman</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>775510</td><td align='left'><b>Sorceress of Witch World</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>780114</td><td align='left'><b>Star Born</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>780718</td><td align='left'><b>Star Gate</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>781914</td><td align='left'><b>Star Hunter &amp; Voodoo Planet</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>784314</td><td align='left'><b>The Stars Are Ours</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>787416</td><td align='left'><b>Storm over Warlock</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>808014</td><td align='left'><b>Three Against the Witch World</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>812511</td><td align='left'><b>The Time Traders</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>840009</td><td align='left'><b>Unchartered Stars</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>873190</td><td align='left'><b>Warlock of the Witch World</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>878710</td><td align='left'><b>Web of the Witch World</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>897017</td><td align='left'><b>Witch World</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>925511</td><td align='left'><b>The X Factor</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>942516</td><td align='left'><b>Year of the Unicorn</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>959619</td><td align='left'><b>The Zero Stone</b> 75c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                25B<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h3><i>Don't miss these exciting adventures of</i></h3>
+
+<h2><b>PERRY RHODAN</b></h2>
+
+<p class='center'><b>Just 75c Each</b></p>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>659938 <b>Perry Rhodan #1</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Enterprise Stardust</b> Scheer &amp; Ernsting</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659946 <b>Perry Rhodan #2</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Radiant Dome</b> Scheer &amp; Ernsting</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659953 <b>Perry Rhodan #3</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Galactic Alarm</b> Mahr &amp; Shols</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659961 <b>Perry Rhodan #4</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Invasion from Space</b> Ernsting &amp; Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659979 <b>Perry Rhodan #5</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Vega Sector</b> Scheer &amp; Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659987 <b>Perry Rhodan #6</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Secret of the Time Vault</b> Darlton</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659995 <b>Perry Rhodan #7</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Fortress of the Six Moons</b> Scheer</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>660001 <b>Perry Rhodan #8</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Galactic Riddle</b> Darlton</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659789 <b>Perry Rhodan #9</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Quest through Space and Time</b> Darlton</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>660027 <b>Perry Rhodan #10</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Ghosts of Gol</b> Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659805 <b>Perry Rhodan #11</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Planet of the Dying Sun</b> Mahr</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                32A<br />
+</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h3>Don't miss these exciting adventures of</h3>
+
+<h2>PERRY RHODAN</h2>
+
+<p class='center'><b>Just 75c Each</b></p>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>659813 <b>Perry Rhodan #12</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Rebels of Tuglan</b> Darlton</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659821 <b>Perry Rhodan #13</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Immortal Unknown</b> Darlton</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659839 <b>Perry Rhodan #14</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Venus in Danger</b> Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659847 <b>Perry Rhodan #15</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Escape To Venus</b> Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659862 <b>Perry Rhodan #16</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Secret Barrier X</b> Shols</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659870 <b>Perry Rhodan #17</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Venus Trap</b> Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659888 <b>Perry Rhodan #18</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Menace of the Mutant Master</b> Mahr</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659904 <b>Perry Rhodan #19</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Mutants vs. Mutants</b> Darlton</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                31B<br />
+</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>Great Science Fiction
+Collections</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>054551 <b>The Best from Fantasy and SF 16th Series</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>054569 <b>The Best from Fantasy and SF 17th Series</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>054577 <b>The Best from Fantasy and SF 18th Series</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>206706 <b>England Swings SF</b> $1.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>363317 <b>The Second "If" Reader</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>572701 <b>New Worlds of Fantasy</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>572719 <b>New Worlds of Fantasy 2</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>572727 <b>New Worlds of Fantasy 3</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>629402 <b>On Our Way to the Future</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>806992 <b>This Side of Infinity</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>846006 <b>Universe 1</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>846014 <b>Universe 2</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913533 <b>World's Best 1st Series</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913541 <b>World's Best 2nd Series</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913558 <b>World's Best 3rd Series</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913566 <b>World's Best 4th Series</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913525 <b>World's Best Science Fiction 1969</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913574 <b>World's Best Science Fiction 1970</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913582 <b>World's Best Science Fiction 1971</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>913590 <b>Best Science Fiction for 1972</b> 95c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style="width: 45%;" />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                12-72-34A<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>Frank
+Herbert</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>172619 <b>Dune</b> $1.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>302612 <b>Green Brain</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>909267 <b>The Worlds of Frank Herbert</b> 95c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<h2>URSULA LEGUIN</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>107011 <b>City of Illusion</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>478008 <b>Left Hand of Darkness</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>732917 <b>Rocannon's World</b> 75c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<h2>Samuel R. Delany</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>045914 <b>Babel 17</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>047225 <b>Ballad of Beta 2</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>196816 <b>Einstein Intersection</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>226415 <b>Fall of the Towers</b> $1.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>390211 <b>Jewels of Aptor</b> 75c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.       12-72-35B<br />
+</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>A. E. Van Vogt</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>048603 <b>The Battle of Forever</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>104109 <b>Children of Tomorrow</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>137984 <b>Darkness on Diamondia</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>228114 <b>The Far Out Worlds of A. E. Van Vogt</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>697003 <b>Quest For the Future</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>765008 <b>The Silkie</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>871814 <b>The War Against the Rulls</b> $1.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>878553 <b>The Weapon Shops of Isher</b> 60c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<h2>JOHN BRUNNER</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>033001 <b>The Atlantic Abomination</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>166686 <b>Dramaturges of Yan</b> 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>381210 <b>Jagged Orbit</b> $1.25</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>524009 <b>Meeting at Infinity</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>812701 <b>Times Without Number</b> 60c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>822106 <b>Traveler in Black</b> 75c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.        36A<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>11<br />
+<span style="font-size: 50%;">NOVELS BY</span><br />
+ROBERT A. HEINLEIN</h2>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>055004 <b>Between Planets</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>106005 <b>Citizen of the Galaxy</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>318006 <b>Have Space Suit Will Travel</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>711408 <b>Red Planet</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>733303 <b>Rocket Ship Galileo</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>734400 <b>The Rolling Stones</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>777300 <b>Space Cadet</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>780007 <b>The Star Beast</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>811257 <b>Time for the Stars</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>826602 <b>Tunnel in the Sky</b> 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>915025 <b>The Worlds of Robert A. Heinlein</b> 95c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         17B<br />
+</p>
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS</h2>
+
+<p class='center'><b>Just 75c each</b></p>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>033218 <b>At the Earth's Core</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>046326 <b>Back to the Stone Age</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>056523 <b>Beyond the Farthest Star</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>218024 <b>Eternal Savages</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>469973 <b>Land of Terror</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>470120 <b>Land of Hidden Men</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>514026 <b>The Mad King</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>535880 <b>Monster Men</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>645101 <b>Outlaw of Torn</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>658526 <b>Pellucidar</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>659425 <b>People That Time Forgot</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>751321 <b>Savage Pellucidar</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>797928 <b>Tanar of Pellucidar</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>901918 <b>The Wizard of Venus</b></td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         15A<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2>The World's Best<br />
+Award-Winning Science Fiction<br />
+Comes from Ace</h2>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>029363 <b>Armageddon 2419 A.D.</b> Nowlan 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>061770 <b>The Big Show</b> Laumer 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>067017 <b>The Black Star Passes</b> Campbell 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>371005 <b>Interplanetary Hunter</b> Barnes 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>516559 <b>Falling Astronauts</b> Malzberg 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>531517 <b>The Mightiest Machine</b> Campbell 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>535708 <b>The Missionaries</b> Compton 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>623801 <b>The Omega Point</b> Zebrowski 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>642405 <b>Other Days, Other Eyes</b> Shaw 95c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>734384 <b>Roller Coaster World</b> Bulmer 75c</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>951467 <b>You're All Alone</b> Leiber 95c</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.        11-72-14C<br />
+</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>ACE SCIENCE FICTION DOUBLES</h2>
+
+<h3>Two books back-to-back</h3>
+
+<p class='center'><b>Just 95c each</b></p>
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'>009902 <b>Against Arcturus</b> Putney</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Time Thieves</b> Koontz</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>066126 <b>Blackman's Burden</b> Reynolds</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Border, Breed Nor Birth</b> Reynolds</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>102939 <b>The Chariots of Ra</b> Bulmer</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Earth Strings</b> Rackham</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>114512 <b>In the Alternate Universe</b> Chandler</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Into the Coils of Time</b> Chandler</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>775254 <b>Son of the Tree</b> Vance</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>House of Iszm</b> Vance</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>156976 <b>The Unteleported Man</b> Dick</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Dr. Futurity</b> Dick</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>158907 <b>Door Through Space</b> Bradley</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Rendezvous on a Lost World</b> Chandler</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>166405 <b>Dragon Master</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Five Gold Bands</b> Vance</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>317552 <b>The Hard Way Up</b> Chandler</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Veiled World</b> Lory</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>337105 <b>Highwood</b> Barrett</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Annihilation Factor</b> Bayley</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>370627 <b>The Inheritors</b> Chandler</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>The Gateway to Never</b> Chandler</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>665257 <b>Pirates of Zan</b> Leinster</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>Mutant Weapon</b> Leinster</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>799759 <b>Technos</b></td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'><b>A Scatter of Sardust</b> Tubb</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+<p class='center'><i><b>Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.</b></i></p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>
+<b>ace books</b>, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station<br />
+New York, N.Y. 10036<br />
+<br />
+Please send me titles checked above.<br />
+<br />
+I enclose $__________________Add 15&cent; handling fee per copy.<br />
+<br />
+Name_________________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+Address______________________________________________<br />
+<br />
+City____________________State_____________Zip________<br />
+<br />
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         12-72-8C<br />
+</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester del Rey
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BADGE OF INFAMY ***
+
+***** This file should be named 19471-h.htm or 19471-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/4/7/19471/
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner, Greg Weeks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/19471-h/images/cover.jpg b/19471-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f02d524
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471-h/images/cover.jpg
diff --git a/19471.txt b/19471.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fcf910d
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,4881 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester del Rey
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Badge of Infamy
+
+Author: Lester del Rey
+
+Release Date: October 5, 2006 [EBook #19471]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BADGE OF INFAMY ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner, Greg Weeks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                     Transcriber's Note:
+
+This etext was produced from an Ace Books paperback, 1973. Extensive
+research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this
+publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+LESTER DEL REY
+
+EARTHMEN BECOMING MARTIANS]
+
+
+     The computer seemed to work as it should. The speed was
+     within acceptable limits. He gave up trying to see the
+     ground and was forced to trust the machinery designed
+     for amateur pilots. The flare bloomed, and he yanked
+     down on the little lever.
+
+     It could have been worse. They hit the ground, bounced
+     twice, and turned over. The ship was a mess when
+     Feldman freed himself from the elastic straps of the
+     seat. Chris had shrieked as they hit, but she was
+     unbuckling herself now.
+
+     He threw her her spacesuit and one of the emergency
+     bottles of oxygen from the rack. "Hurry up with that.
+     We've sprung a leak and the pressure's dropping."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Turn this book over for a second complete novel.
+
+[Transcriber's Note:
+The second novel is not present in this etext.]
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+By LESTER DEL REY
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+ace books
+A Division of Charter Communications Inc.
+1120 Avenue of the Americas
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+
+
+
+BADGE OF INFAMY
+
+Copyright (C) 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
+Copyright (C) 1957 by Renown Publications, Inc.
+
+A shorter and earlier version of this story appeared in _Satellite
+Science Fiction_ for June, 1957.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+_First Ace printing: January, 1973_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+THE SKY IS FALLING
+Copyright (C) 1954, 1963 by Galaxy Publishing Corp.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Printed in U.S.A.
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+Pariah
+
+
+The air of the city's cheapest flophouse was thick with the smells of
+harsh antiseptic and unwashed bodies. The early Christmas snowstorm had
+driven in every bum who could steal or beg the price of admission, and
+the long rows of cots were filled with fully clothed figures. Those who
+could afford the extra dime were huddled under thin, grimy blankets.
+
+The pariah who had been Dr. Daniel Feldman enjoyed no such luxury. He
+tossed fitfully on a bare cot, bringing his face into the dim light. It
+had been a handsome face, but now the black stubble of beard lay over
+gaunt features and sunken cheeks. He looked ten years older than his
+scant thirty-two, and there were the beginnings of a snarl at the
+corners of his mouth. Clothes that had once been expensive were wrinkled
+and covered with grime that no amount of cleaning could remove. His
+tall, thin body was awkwardly curled up in a vain effort to conserve
+heat and one of his hands instinctively clutched at his tiny bag of
+possessions.
+
+He stirred again, and suddenly jerked upright with a protest already
+forming on his lips. The ugly surroundings registered on his eyes, and
+he stared suspiciously at the other cots. But there was no sign that
+anyone had been trying to rob him of his bindle or the precious bag of
+cheap tobacco.
+
+He started to relax back onto the couch when a sound caught his
+attention, even over the snoring of the others. It was a low wail, the
+sound of a man who can no longer control himself.
+
+Feldman swung to the cot on his left as the moan hacked off. The man
+there was well fed and clean-shaven, but his face was gray with
+sickness. He was writhing and clutching his stomach, arching his back
+against the misery inside him.
+
+"Space-stomach?" Feldman diagnosed.
+
+He had no need of the weak answering nod. He'd treated such cases
+several times in the past. The disease was usually caused by the absence
+of gravity out in space, but it could be brought on later from abuse of
+the weakened internal organs, such as the intake of too much bad liquor.
+The man must have been frequenting the wrong space-front bars.
+
+Now he was obviously dying. Violent peristaltic contractions seemed to
+be tearing the intestines out of him, and the paroxysms were coming
+faster. His eyes darted to Feldman's tobacco sack and there was animal
+appeal in them.
+
+Feldman hesitated, then reluctantly rolled a smoke. He held the
+cigarette while the spaceman took a long, gasping drag on it. He smoked
+the remainder himself, letting the harsh tobacco burn against his lungs
+and sicken his empty stomach. Then he shrugged and threaded his way
+through the narrow aisles toward the attendant.
+
+"Better get a doctor," he said bitterly, when the young punk looked up
+at him. "You've got a man dying of space-stomach on 214."
+
+The sneer on the kid's face deepened. "Yeah? We don't pay for doctors
+every time some wino wants to throw up. Forget it and get back where you
+belong, bo."
+
+"You'll have a corpse on your hands in an hour," Feldman insisted. "I
+know space-stomach, damn it."
+
+The kid turned back to his lottery sheet. "Go treat yourself if you
+wanta play doctor. Go on, scram--before I toss you out in the snow!"
+
+One of Feldman's white-knuckled hands reached for the attendant. Then he
+caught himself. He started to turn back, hesitated, and finally faced
+the kid again. "I'm not fooling. And I _was_ a doctor," he stated. "My
+name is Daniel Feldman."
+
+The attendant nodded absently, until the words finally penetrated. He
+looked up, studied Feldman with surprised curiosity and growing
+contempt, and reached for the phone. "Gimme Medical Directory," he
+muttered.
+
+Feldman felt the kid's eyes on his back as he stumbled through the
+aisles to his cot again. He slumped down, rolling another cigarette in
+hands that shook. The sick man was approaching delirium now, and the
+moans were mixed with weak whining sounds of fear. Other men had wakened
+and were watching, but nobody made a move to help.
+
+The retching and writhing of the sick man had begun to weaken, but it
+was still not too late to save him. Hot water and skillful massage could
+interrupt the paroxysms. In fifteen minutes, Feldman could have stopped
+the attack completely.
+
+He found his feet on the floor and his hands already reaching out.
+Savagely he pulled himself back. Sure, he could save the man--and wind
+up in the gas chamber! There'd be no mercy for his second offense
+against Lobby laws. If the spaceman lived, Feldman might get off with a
+flogging--that was standard punishment for a pariah who stepped out of
+line. But with his luck, there would be a heart arrest and another juicy
+story for the papers.
+
+Idealism! The Medical Lobby made a lot out of the word. But it wasn't
+for him. A pariah had no business thinking of others.
+
+As Feldman sat there staring, the spaceman grew quieter. Sometimes, even
+at this stage, massage could help. It was harder without liberal
+supplies of hot water, but the massage was the really important
+treatment. It was the trembling of Feldman's hands that stopped him. He
+no longer had the strength or the certainty to make the massage
+effective.
+
+He was glaring at his hands in self-disgust when the legal doctor
+arrived. The man was old and tired. Probably he had been another
+idealist who had wound up defeated, content to leave things up to the
+established procedures of the Medical Lobby. He looked it as he bent
+over the dying man.
+
+The doctor turned back at last to the attendant. "Too late. The best I
+can do is ease his pain. The call should have been made half an hour
+earlier."
+
+He had obviously never handled space-stomach before. He administered a
+hypo that probably held narconal. Feldman watched, his guts tightening
+sympathetically for the shock that would be to the sick man. But at
+least it would shorten his sufferings. The final seizure lasted only a
+minute or so.
+
+"Hopeless," the doctor said. His eyes were clouded for a moment, and
+then he shrugged. "Well, I'll make out a death certificate. Anyone here
+know his name?"
+
+His eyes swung about the cots until they came to rest on Feldman. He
+frowned, and a twisted smile curved his lips.
+
+"Feldman, isn't it? You still look something like your pictures. Do you
+know the deceased?"
+
+Feldman shook his head bitterly. "No. I don't know his name. I don't
+even know why he wasn't cyanotic at the end, _if_ it was space-stomach.
+Do you, doctor?"
+
+The old man threw a startled glance at the corpse. Then he shrugged and
+nodded to the attendant. "Well, go through his things. If he still has a
+space ticket, I can get his name from that."
+
+The kid began pawing through the bag that had fallen from the cot. He
+dragged out a pair of shoes, half a bottle of cheap rum, a wallet and a
+bronze space ticket. He wasn't quick enough with the wallet, and the
+doctor took it from him.
+
+"Medical Lobby authorization. If he has any money, it covers my fee and
+the rest goes to his own Lobby." There were several bills, all of large
+denominations. He turned the ticket over and began filling in the death
+certificate. "Arthur Billings. Space Lobby. Crewman. Cause of death,
+idiopathic gastroenteritis _and_ delirium tremens."
+
+There had been no evidence of delirium tremens, but apparently the
+doctor felt he had scored a point. He tossed the space ticket toward the
+shoes, closed his bag, and prepared to leave.
+
+"Hey, doc!" The attendant's voice was indignant. "Hey, what about my
+reporting fee?"
+
+The doctor stopped. He glanced at the kid, then toward Feldman, his face
+a mixture of speculation and dislike. He took a dollar bill from the
+wallet. "That's right," he admitted. "The fee for reporting a solvent
+case. Medical Lobby rules apply--even to a man who breaks them."
+
+The kid's hand was out, but the doctor dropped the dollar onto Feldman's
+cot. "There's your fee, pariah." He left, forcing the protesting
+attendant to precede him.
+
+Feldman reached for the bill. It was blood money for letting a man
+die--but it meant cigarettes and food--or shelter for another night, if
+he could get a mission meal. He no longer could afford pride. Grimly, he
+pocketed the bill, staring at the face of the dead man. It looked back
+sightlessly, now showing a faint speckling of tiny dots. They caught
+Feldman's eyes, and he bent closer. There should be no black dots on the
+skin of a man who died of space-stomach. And there should have been
+cyanosis....
+
+He swore and bent down to find the wrecks of his shoes. He couldn't
+worry about anything now but getting away from here before the attendant
+made trouble. His eyes rested on the shoes of the dead man--sturdy boots
+that would last for another year. They could do the corpse no good;
+someone else would steal them if he didn't. But he hesitated, cursing
+himself.
+
+The right boot fitted better than he could have expected, but something
+got in the way as he tried to put the left one on. His fingers found the
+bronze ticket. He turned it over, considering it. He wasn't ready to
+fraud his identity for what he'd heard of life on the spaceships, yet.
+But he shoved it into his pocket and finished lacing the boots.
+
+Outside, the snow was still falling, but it had turned to slush, and the
+sidewalk was soggy underfoot. There was going to be no work shoveling
+snow, he realized. This would melt before the day was over. Feldman
+hunched the suitcoat up, shivering as the cold bit into him. The boots
+felt good, though; if he'd had socks, they would have been completely
+comfortable.
+
+He passed a cheap restaurant, and the smell of the synthetics set his
+stomach churning. It had been two days since his last real meal, and the
+dollar burned in his pocket. But he had to wait. There was a fair
+chance this early that he could scavenge something edible.
+
+He shuffled on. After a while, the cold bothered him less, and he passed
+through the hunger spell. He rolled another smoke and sucked at it,
+hardly thinking. It was better that way.
+
+It was much later when the big caduceus set into the sidewalk snapped
+him back to awareness of where he'd traveled. His undirected feet had
+led him much too far uptown, following old habits. This was the Medical
+Lobby building, where he'd spent more than enough time, including three
+weeks in custody before they stripped him of all rank and status.
+
+His eyes wandered to the ornate entrance where he'd first emerged as a
+pariah. He'd meant to walk down those steps as if he were still a man.
+But each step had drained his resolution, until he'd finally covered his
+face and slunk off, knowing himself for what the world had branded him.
+
+He stood there now, staring at the smug young medical politicians and
+the tired old general practitioners filing in and out. One of the latter
+halted, fumbled in his pocket and drew out a quarter.
+
+"Merry Christmas!" he said dully.
+
+Feldman fingered the coin. Then he saw a gray Medical policeman watching
+him, and he knew it was time to move on. Sooner or later, someone would
+recognize him here.
+
+He clutched the quarter and turned to look for a coffee shop that sold
+the synthetics to which his metabolism had been switched. No shop would
+serve him here, but he could buy coffee and a piece of cake to take out.
+
+A flurry of motion registered from the corner of his eye, and he glanced
+back.
+
+"Taxi! Taxi!"
+
+The girl rushing down the steps had a clear soprano voice, cultured and
+commanding. The gray Medical uniform seemed molded to her shapely figure
+and her red hair glistened in the lights of the street. Her snub nose
+and determined mouth weren't the current fashion, but nobody stopped to
+think of fashions when they saw her. She didn't have to be the daughter
+of the president of Medical Lobby to rule.
+
+It was Chris--Chris Feldman once, and now Chris Ryan again.
+
+Feldman swung toward a cab. For a moment, his attitude was automatic and
+assured, and the cab stopped before the driver noticed his clothes. He
+picked up the bag Chris dropped and swung it onto the front seat. She
+was fumbling in her change purse as he turned back to shut the door.
+
+"Thank you, my good man," she said. She could be gracious, even to a
+pariah, when his homage suited her. She dropped two quarters into his
+hand, raising her eyes.
+
+Recognition flowed into them, followed by icy shock. She yanked the cab
+door shut and shouted something to the driver. The cab took off with a
+rush that left Feldman in a backwash of slush and mud.
+
+He glanced down at the coins in his hand. It was his lucky day, he
+thought bitterly.
+
+He moved across the street and away, not bothering about the squeal of
+brakes and the honking horns. He looked back only once, toward the
+glowing sign that topped the building. _Your health is our business!_
+Then the great symbol of the health business faded behind him, and he
+stumbled on, sucking incessantly at the cigarettes he rolled. One hand
+clutched the bronze badge belonging to the dead man and his stolen
+boots drove onward through the melting snow.
+
+It was Christmas in the year 2100 on the protectorate of Earth.
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+Lobby
+
+
+Feldman had set his legs the problem of heading for the great spaceport
+and escape from Earth, and he let them take him without further
+guidance. His mind was wrapped up in a whirl of the past--his past and
+that of the whole planet. Both pasts had in common the growth and sudden
+ruin of idealism.
+
+Idealism! Throughout history, some men had sought the ideal, and most
+had called it freedom. Only fools expected absolute freedom, but wise
+men dreamed up many systems of relative freedom, including democracy.
+They had tried that in America, as the last fling of the dream. It had
+been a good attempt, too.
+
+The men who drew the Constitution had been pretty practical dreamers.
+They came to their task after a bitter war and a worse period of wild
+chaos, and they had learned where idealism stopped and idiocy began.
+They set up a republic with all the elements of democracy that they
+considered safe. It had worked well enough to make America the number
+one power of the world. But the men who followed the framers of the new
+plan were a different sort, without the knowledge of practical limits.
+
+The privileges their ancestors had earned in blood and care became
+automatic rights. Practical men tried to explain that there were no such
+rights--that each generation had to pay for its rights with
+responsibility. That kind of talk didn't get far. People wanted to hear
+about rights, not about duties.
+
+They took the phrase that all men were created equal and left out the
+implied kicker that equality was in the sight of God and before the law.
+They wanted an equality with the greatest men without giving up their
+drive toward mediocrity, and they meant to have it. In a way, they got
+it.
+
+They got the vote extended to everyone. The man on subsidy or public
+dole could vote to demand more. The man who read of nothing beyond sex
+crimes could vote on the great political issues of the world. No ability
+was needed for his vote. In fact, he was assured that voting alone was
+enough to make him a fine and noble citizen. He loved that, if he
+bothered to vote at all that year. He became a great man by listing his
+unthought, hungry desire for someone to take care of him without
+responsibility. So he went out and voted for the man who promised him
+most, or who looked most like what his limited dreams felt to be a
+father image or son image or hero image. He never bothered later to see
+how the men he'd elected had handled the jobs he had given them.
+
+Someone had to look, of course, and someone did. Organized special
+interests stepped in where the mob had failed. Lobbies grew up. There
+had always been pressure groups, but now they developed into a third arm
+of the government.
+
+The old Farm Lobby was unbeatable. The big farmers shaped the laws they
+wanted. They convinced the little farmers it was for the good of all,
+and they made the story stick well enough to swing the farm vote. They
+made the laws when it came to food and crops.
+
+The last of the great lobbies was Space, probably. It was an accident
+that grew up so fast it never even knew it wasn't a real part of the
+government. It developed during a period of chaos when another country
+called Russia got the first hunk of metal above the atmosphere and when
+the representatives who had been picked for everything but their grasp
+of science and government went into panic over a myth of national
+prestige.
+
+The space effort was turned over to the aircraft industry, which had
+never been able to manage itself successfully except under the stimulus
+of war or a threat of war. The failing airplane industry became the
+space combine overnight, and nobody kept track of how big it was, except
+a few sharp operators.
+
+They worked out a system of subcontracts that spread the profits so wide
+that hardly a company of any size in the country wasn't getting a share.
+Thus a lot of patriotic, noble voters got their pay from companies in
+the lobby block and could be panicked by the lobby at the first mention
+of recession.
+
+So Space Lobby took over completely in its own field. It developed
+enough pressure to get whatever appropriations it wanted, even over
+Presidential veto. It created the only space experts, which meant that
+the men placed in government agencies to regulate it came from its own
+ranks.
+
+The other lobbies learned a lot from Space.
+
+There had been a medical lobby long before, but it had been a
+conservative group, mostly concerned with protecting medical autonomy
+and ethics. It also tried to prevent government control of treatment and
+payment, feeling that it couldn't trust the people to know where to
+stop. But its history was a long series of retreats.
+
+It fought what it called socialized medicine. But the people wanted
+their troubles handled free--which meant by government spending, since
+that could be added to the national debt, and thus didn't seem to cost
+anything. It lost, and eventually the government paid most medical
+costs, with doctors working on a fixed fee. Then quantity of treatment
+paid, rather than quality. Competence no longer mattered so much. The
+Lobby lost, but didn't know it--because the lowered standards of
+competence in the profession lowered the caliber of men running the
+political aspects of that profession as exemplified by the Lobby.
+
+It took a world-wide plague to turn the tide. The plague began in old
+China; anything could start there, with more than a billion people
+huddled in one area and a few madmen planning to conquer the world. It
+might have been a laboratory mutation, but nobody could ever prove it.
+
+It wiped out two billion people, depopulated Africa and most of Asia,
+and wrecked Europe, leaving only America comparatively safe to take
+over. An obscure scientist in one of the laboratories run by the Medical
+Lobby found a cure before the first waves of the epidemic hit America.
+Rutherford Ryan, then head of the Lobby, made sure that Medical Lobby
+got all the credit.
+
+By the time the world recovered, America ran it and the Medical Lobby
+was untouchable. Ryan made a deal with Space Lobby, and the two
+effectively ran the world. None of the smaller lobbies could buck them,
+and neither could the government.
+
+There was still a president and a congress, as there had been a Senate
+under the Roman Caesars. But the two Lobbies ran themselves as they
+chose. The real government had become a kind of oligarchy, as it always
+did after too much false democracy ruined the ideals of real and
+practical self-rule. A man belonged to his Lobby, just as a serf had
+belonged to his feudal landlord.
+
+It was a safe world now. Maybe progress had been halted at about the
+level of 1980, but so long as the citizens didn't break the rules of
+their lobbies, they had very little to worry about. For that, for
+security and the right not to think, most people were willing to leave
+well enough alone.
+
+Some rules seemed harsh, of course, such as the law that all operations
+had to be performed in Lobby hospitals. But that could be justified; it
+was the only safe kind of surgery and the only way to make sure there
+was no unsupervised experimentation, such as that which supposedly
+caused the plague. The rule was now an absolute ethic of medicine. It
+also made for better fees.
+
+Feldman's father had stuck by the rule but had questioned it. Feldman
+learned not to question in medical school. He scored second in Medical
+Ethics only to Christina Ryan.
+
+He had never figured why she singled him out for her attentions, but he
+gloried in both those attentions and the results. He became
+automatically a rising young man, the favorite of the daughter of the
+Lobby president. He went through internship without a sign of trouble.
+Chris humored him in his desire to spend three years of practice in a
+poor section loaded with disease, and her father approved; such selfless
+dedication was the perfect image projection for a future son-in-law. In
+return, he agreed to follow that period by becoming an administrator. A
+doctor's doctor, as they put it.
+
+They were married in April and his office was ready in May, complete
+with a staff of eighty. The publicity releases had gone out, and the
+Public Relations Lobby that handled news and education was paid to begin
+the greatest build-up any young genius ever had.
+
+They celebrated that, with a little party of some four hundred people
+and reporters at Ryan's lodge in Canada. It was to be a gala weekend.
+
+It was then that Baxter shot himself.
+
+Baxter had been Feldman's closest friend in the Lobby. He'd come along
+to handle press relations and had gotten romantic about the countryside,
+never having been out of a city before. He hired a guide and went
+hunting, eighty miles beyond the last outpost of civilization. Somehow,
+he got his hand on a gun, though only guides were supposed to touch
+them, managed to overcome its safety devices, and then pulled the
+trigger with the gun pointed the wrong way.
+
+Chris, Feldman and Harnett from Public Relations had accompanied him on
+the trip. They were sitting in a nearby car while Feldman enjoyed the
+scenery, Chris made further plans, and Harnett gathered material. There
+was also a photographer and writer, but they hadn't been introduced by
+name.
+
+Feldman reached Baxter first. The man was moaning and scared, and he was
+bleeding profusely. Only a miracle had saved him from instant death. The
+bullet had struck a rib, been deflected and robbed of some of its
+energy, and had barely reached the heart. But it had pierced the
+pericardium, as best Feldman could guess, and it could be fatal at any
+moment.
+
+He'd reached for a probe without thinking. Chris knocked his hand aside.
+
+She was right, of course. He couldn't operate outside a hospital. But
+they had no phone in the lodge where the guide lived and no way to
+summon an ambulance. They'd have to drive Baxter back in the car, which
+would almost certainly result in his death.
+
+When Feldman seemed uncertain, Harnett had given his warning in a low
+but vehement voice. "You touch him, Dan, and I'll spread it in every one
+of our media. I'll have to. It's the only way to retain public
+confidence. There'd be a leak, with all the guides and others here, and
+we can't afford that. I like you--you have color. But touch that wound
+and I'll crucify you."
+
+Chris added her own threats. She'd spent years making him the outlet for
+all her ambitions, denied because women were still only second-rate
+members of Medical Lobby. She couldn't let it go now. And she was
+probably genuinely shocked.
+
+Baxter groaned again and started to bleed more profusely.
+
+There wasn't much equipment. Feldman operated with a pocketknife
+sterilized in a bottle of expensive Scotch and only anodyne tablets in
+place of anesthesia. He got the bullet out and sewed up the wound with a
+bit of surgical thread he'd been using to tie up a torn good-luck
+emblem. The photographer and writer recorded the whole thing. Chris
+swore harshly and beat her fists against the bole of a tree. But Baxter
+lived. He recovered completely, and was shocked at the heinous thing
+that had been done to him.
+
+They crucified Feldman.
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+Spaceman
+
+
+Most crewmen lived rough, ugly lives--and usually, short ones.
+Passengers and officers on the big tubs were given the equivalent of
+gravity in spinning compartments, but the crews rode "free". The lucky
+crewmen lived through their accidents, got space-stomach now and then,
+and recovered. Nobody cared about the others.
+
+Feldman's ticket was work-stamped for the _Navaho_, and nobody
+questioned his identity. He suffered through the agony of acceleration
+on the shuttle up to the orbital station, then was sick as acceleration
+stopped. But he was able to control himself enough to follow other
+crewmen down a hall of the station toward the _Navaho_. The big ships
+never touched a planet, always docking at the stations.
+
+A checker met the crew and reached for their badges. He barely glanced
+at them, punched a mark for each on his checkoff sheet, and handed them
+back. "Deckmen forward, tubemen to the rear," he ordered. "_Navaho_
+blasts in fifteen minutes. Hey, you! You're tubes."
+
+Feldman grunted. He should have expected it. Tubemen had the lowest lot
+of all the crew. Between the killing work, the heat of the tubes, and
+occasional doses of radiation, their lives weren't worth the metal value
+of their tickets.
+
+He began pulling himself clumsily along a shaft, dodging freight the
+loaders were tossing from hand to hand. A bag hit his head, drawing
+blood, and another caught him in the groin.
+
+"Watch it, bo," a loader yelled at him. "You dent that bag and they'll
+brig you. Cantcha see it's got a special courtesy stripe?"
+
+It had a brilliant green stripe, he saw. It also had a name, printed in
+block letters that shouted their identity before he could read the
+words. _Dr. Christina Ryan, Southport, Mars._
+
+And he'd had to choose this time to leave Earth!
+
+Suddenly he was glad he was assigned to the tubes. It was the one place
+on the ship where he'd be least likely to run into her. As a doctor and
+a courtesy passenger, she'd have complete run of the ship, but she'd
+hardly bother with the dangerous and unpleasant tube section.
+
+He dragged his way back, beginning to sweat with the effort. The
+_Navaho_ was an old ship. A lot of the handholds were missing, and he
+had to throw himself along by erratic leaps. He was gaining proficiency,
+but not enough to handle himself if the ship blasted off. Time was
+growing short when he reached the aft bunkroom where the other tubemen
+were waiting.
+
+"Ben," one husky introduced himself. "Tube chief. Know how to work
+this?"
+
+Feldman could see that they were assembling a small still. He'd heard of
+the phenomenal quantities of beer spacemen drank, and now he realized
+what really happened to it. Hard liquor was supposed to be forbidden,
+but they made their own. "I can work it," he decided. "I'm--uh--Dan."
+
+"Okay, Dan." Ben glanced at the clock. "Hit the sacks, boys."
+
+By the time Feldman could settle into the sacklike hammock, the
+_Navaho_ began to shake faintly, and weight piled up. It was mild
+compared to that on the shuttle, since the big ships couldn't take high
+acceleration. Space had been conquered for more than a century, but the
+ships were still flimsy tubs that took months to reach Mars, using
+immense amounts of fuel. Only the valuable plant hormones from Mars made
+commerce possible at the ridiculously high freight rate.
+
+Three hours later he began to find out why spacemen didn't seem to fear
+dying or turning pariah. The tube quarters had grown insufferably hot
+during the long blast, but the main tube-room was blistering as Ben led
+the men into it. The chief handed out spacesuits and motioned for Dan.
+
+"Greenhorn, aincha? Okay, I'll take you with me. We go out in the tubes
+and pull the lining. I pry up the stuff, you carry it back here and
+stack it."
+
+They sealed off the tube-room, pumped out the air, and went into the
+steaming, mildly radioactive tubes, just big enough for a man on hands
+and knees. Beyond the tube mouth was empty space, waiting for the man
+who slipped. Ben began ripping out the eroded blocks with a special
+tool. Feldman carried them back and stacked them along with others. A
+plasma furnace melted them down into new blocks. The work grew
+progressively worse as the distance to the tube-room increased. The tube
+mouth yawned closer and closer. There were no handholds there--only the
+friction of a man's body in the tube.
+
+Life settled into a dull routine of labor, sleep, and the brief relief
+of the crude white mule from the still.
+
+They were six weeks out and almost finished with the tube cleaning when
+Number Two tube blew. Bits of the remaining radioactive fuel must have
+collected slowly until they reached blow-point. Feldman in Number One
+would have gone sailing out into space, but Ben reacted at once. As the
+ship leaped slightly, Feldman brought up sharply against the chief's
+braced body. For a second their fate hung in the balance. Then it was
+over, and Ben shoved him back, grinning faintly.
+
+He jerked his thumb and touched helmets briefly. "There they go, Dan."
+
+The two men who had been working in Number Two were charred lumps,
+drifting out into space.
+
+No further comment was made on it, except that they'd have to work
+harder from now on, since they were shorthanded.
+
+That rest period Feldman came down with a mild attack of
+space-stomach--which meant no more drinking for him--and was off work
+for a day. Then the pace picked up. The tubes were cleared and they
+began laying the new lining for the landing blasts. There was no time
+for thought after that. Mars' orbital station lay close when the work
+was finished.
+
+Ben slapped Feldman on the back. "Ya ain't bad for a greenie, Dan. We
+all get six-day passes on Mars. Hit the sack now so you won't waste time
+sleeping then. We'll hear it when the ship berths."
+
+Feldman didn't hear it, but the others did. He felt Ben shaking his
+shoulder, trying to drag him out of the sack. "Grab your junk, Dan."
+
+Ben picked up Feldman's nearly empty bag and tossed it toward him,
+before his eyes were fully open. He grabbed for it and missed. He
+grabbed again, with Ben's laughter in his ears. The bag hit the wall and
+fell open, spilling its contents.
+
+Feldman began gathering it up, but the chief was no longer laughing. A
+big hand grabbed up the space ticket suddenly, and there was no
+friendliness now on Ben's face.
+
+"Art Billing's card!" Ben told the other tubemen. "Five trips I made
+with Art. He was saving his money, going to buy a farm on Mars. Five
+trips and one more to go before he had enough. Now you show up with his
+ticket!"
+
+The tubemen moved forward toward Feldman. There was no indecision. To
+them, apparently, trial had been held and sentence passed.
+
+"Wait a minute," Feldman began. "Billings died of--"
+
+A fist snaked past his raised hand and connected with his jaw. He
+bounced off a wall. A wrench sailed toward him, glanced off his arm, and
+ripped at his muscles. Another heavy fist struck.
+
+Abruptly, Ben's voice cut through their yells. "Hold it!" He shoved
+through the group, tossing men backwards. "Stow it! We can take care of
+him later. Right now, this is captain's business. You fools want to lose
+your leave?" He indicated two of the others. "You two bring him
+along--and keep him quiet!"
+
+The two grabbed Feldman's arms and dragged him along as the chief began
+pulling his way forward through the tubes up towards the control section
+of the ship. Feldman took a quick glance at their faces and made no
+effort to resist; they obviously would have enjoyed any chance to subdue
+him.
+
+They were stopped twice by minor officers, then sent on. They finally
+found the captain near the exit lock, apparently assisting the
+passengers to leave. Most of them went on into the shuttle, but Chris
+Ryan remained behind as the captain listened to Ben's report and
+inspected the false ticket.
+
+Finally the captain turned to Feldman. "You. What's your name?"
+
+Chris' eyes were squarely on Feldman, cold and furious. "He _was_ Doctor
+Daniel Feldman, Captain Marker," she stated.
+
+Feldman stood paralyzed. He'd been unwilling to face Chris. He wanted to
+avoid all the past. But the idea that she would denounce him had never
+entered his head. There was no Medical rule involved. She knew that as a
+pariah he was forbidden to board a passenger ship, of course. But she'd
+been his wife once!
+
+Marker bowed slightly to her. "Thank you, Dr. Ryan. I should take this
+criminal back to Earth in chains, I suppose. But he's hardly worth the
+freightage. You men. Want to take him down to Mars and ground him
+there?"
+
+Ben grinned and touched his forelock. "Thank you, sir. We'd enjoy that."
+
+"Good. His pay reverts to the ship's fund. That's all, men."
+
+Feldman started to protest, but a fist lashed savagely against his
+mouth.
+
+He made no other protests as they dragged him into the crew shuttle that
+took off for Southport. He avoided their eyes and sat hunched over. It
+was Ben who finally broke the silence.
+
+"What happened to Art's money? He had a pile on him."
+
+"Go to hell!"
+
+"Give, I said!" Ben twisted his arm back toward his shoulder, applying
+increasing pressure.
+
+"A doctor took it for his fee when Billings died of space-stomach. Damn
+you, I couldn't help him!"
+
+Ben looked at the others. "Med Lobby fee, eh? All the market will take.
+Umm. It could be, maybe." He shrugged. "Okay, reasonable doubt. We
+won't kill you, bo. Not quite, we won't."
+
+The shuttle landed and Ben handed out the little helmets and aspirators
+that made life possible in Mars' thin air. Outside, the tubemen took
+turns holding Feldman and beating him while the passengers disembarked
+from their shuttle. As he slumped into unconsciousness, he had a picture
+of Chris Ryan's frozen face as she moved steadily toward the port
+station.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+Martian
+
+
+It was night when Feldman came to, and the temperature was dropping
+rapidly. He struggled to sit up through a fog of pain. Somewhere in his
+bag, he should have an anodyne tablet that would kill any ache. He
+finally found the pill and swallowed it, fumbling with the aspirator lip
+opening.
+
+The aspirator meant life to him now, he suddenly realized. He twisted to
+stare at the tiny charge-indicator for the battery. It showed
+half-charge. Then he saw that someone had attached another battery
+beside it. He puzzled briefly over it, but his immediate concern was for
+shelter.
+
+Apparently he was still where he had been knocked out. There was a light
+coming from the little station, and he headed toward that, fumbling for
+the few quarters that represented his entire fortune.
+
+Maybe it would have been better if the tubemen had killed him. Batteries
+were an absolute necessity here, food and shelter would be expensive,
+and he had no skills to earn his way. At most, he had only a day or so
+left. But meantime, he had to find warmth before the cold killed him.
+
+The tiny restaurant in the station was still open, and the air was warm
+inside. He pulled off the aspirator, shutting off the battery.
+
+The counterman didn't even glance up as he entered. Feldman gazed at the
+printed menu and flinched.
+
+"Soup," he ordered. It was the cheapest item he could find.
+
+The counterman stared at him, obviously spotting his Earth origin. "You
+adjusted to synthetics?"
+
+Feldman nodded. Earth operated on a mixed diet, with synthetics for all
+who couldn't afford the natural foods there. But Mars was all synthetic.
+Many of the chemicals in food could exist in either of two forms, or
+isomers; they were chemically alike, but differently crystallized.
+Sometimes either form was digestible, but frequently the body could use
+only the isomer to which it was adjusted.
+
+Martian plants produced different isomers from those on Earth. Since the
+synthetic foods turned out to be Mars-normal, that was probably the more
+natural form. Research designed to let the early colonists live off
+native food here had turned up an enzyme that enabled the body to handle
+either isomer. In a few weeks of eating Martian or synthetic food, the
+body adapted; without more enzyme, it lost its power to handle
+Earth-normal food.
+
+The cheapness of synthetics and the discovery that many diseases common
+to Earth would not attack Mars-normal bodies led to the wide use of
+synthetics on Earth. No pariah could have been expected to afford
+Earth-normal.
+
+Feldman finished the soup, and found a cigarette that was smokable. "Any
+objections if I sit in the waiting room?"
+
+He'd expected a rejection, but the counterman only shrugged. The waiting
+room was almost dark and the air was chilly, but there was normal
+pressure. He found a bench and slumped onto it, lighting his cigarette.
+He'd miss the smokes--but probably not for long. He finished the
+cigarette reluctantly and sat huddled on the bench, waiting for morning.
+
+The airlock opened later, and feet sounded on the boards of the
+waiting-room floor, but he didn't look up until a thin beam of light hit
+him. Then he sighed and nodded. The shoes, made of some odd fiber,
+didn't look like those of a cop, but this was Mars. He could see only a
+hulking shadow behind the light.
+
+"You the man who was a medical doctor?" The voice was dry and old.
+
+"Yeah," Feldman answered. "Once."
+
+"Good. Thought that space crewman was just lying drunk at first. Come
+along, Doc."
+
+"Why?" It didn't matter, but if they wanted him to move on, they'd have
+to push a little harder.
+
+The light swung up to show the other. He was the shade of old leather
+with a bleached patch of sandy hair and the deepest gray eyes Feldman
+had ever seen. It was a face that could have belonged to a country
+storekeeper in New England, with the same hint of dry humor. The man was
+dressed in padded levis and a leather jacket of unguessable age. His
+aspirator seemed worn and patched, and one big hand fumbled with it.
+
+"Because we're friends, Doc," the voice drawled at him. "Because you
+might as well come with us as sit here. Maybe we have a job for you."
+
+Feldman shrugged and stood up. If the man was a Lobby policeman, he was
+different from the usual kind. Nothing could be worse than the present
+prospects.
+
+They went out through the doors of the waiting room toward a rattletrap
+vehicle. It looked something like a cross between a schoolboy's jalopy
+and a scaled-down army tank of former times. The treads were caterpillar
+style, and the stubby body was completely enclosed. A tiny airlock
+stuck out from the rear.
+
+Two men were inside, both bearded. The old man grinned at them. "Mark,
+Lou, meet Doc Feldman. Sit, Doc. I'm Jake Mullens, and you might say we
+were farmers."
+
+The motor started with a wheeze. The tractor swung about and began
+heading away from Southport toward the desert dunes. It shook and
+rattled, but it seemed to make good time.
+
+"I don't know anything about farming," Feldman protested.
+
+Jake shrugged. "No, of course not. Couple of our friends heard about you
+where a spaceman was getting drunk and tipped us off. We know who you
+are. Here, try a bracky?"
+
+Feldman took what seemed to be a cigarette and studied it doubtfully. It
+was coarse and fibrous inside, with a thin, hard shell that seemed to be
+a natural growth, as if it had been chopped from some vine. He lighted
+it, not knowing what to expect. Then he coughed as the bitter, rancid
+smoke burned at his throat. He started to throw it down, and hesitated.
+Jake was smoking one, and it had killed the craving for tobacco almost
+instantly.
+
+"Some like 'em, most don't," Jake said. "They won't hurt you. Look--see
+that? Old Martian ruins. Built by some race a million years ago. Only
+half a dozen on Mars."
+
+It was only a clump of weathered stone buildings in the light from the
+tractor, and Feldman had seen better in the stereo shots. It was
+interesting only because it connected with the legendary Martian race,
+like the canals that showed from space but could not be seen on the
+surface of the planet.
+
+Feldman waited for the other to go on, but Jake was silent. Finally, he
+ground out the butt of the weed. "Okay, Jake. What do you want with me?"
+
+"Consultation, maybe. Ever hear of herb doctors? I'm one of them."
+
+Feldman knew that the Lobby permitted some leniency here, due to the
+scarcity of real medical help. There was only one decent hospital at
+Northport, on the opposite side of the planet.
+
+Jake sighed and reached for another bracky weed. "Yeah, I'm pretty good
+with herbs. But I got a sick village on my hands and I can't handle it.
+We can't all mortgage our work to pay for a trip to Northport.
+Southport's all messed up while the new she-doctor gets her metabolism
+changed. Maybe the old guy there would have helped, but he died a couple
+months ago. So it looks like you're our only hope."
+
+"Then you have no hope," Feldman told him sickly. "I'm a pariah, Jake. I
+can't do a thing for you."
+
+"We heard about your argument with the Lobby. News reaches Mars. But
+these are mighty sick people, Doc."
+
+Feldman shook his head. "Better take me back. I'm not allowed to
+practice medicine. The charge would be first-degree murder if anything
+happened."
+
+Lou leaned forward. "Shall I talk to him, Jake?"
+
+The old man grimaced. "Time enough. Let him see what we got first."
+
+Sand howled against the windshield and the tractor bumped and surged
+along. Feldman took another of the weeds and tried to estimate their
+course. But he had no idea where they were when the tractor finally
+stopped. There was a village of small huts that seemed to be merely
+entrances to living quarters dug under the surface. They led him into
+one and through a tunnel into a large room filled with simple cots and
+the unhappy sounds of sick people.
+
+Two women were disconsolately trying to attend to the half-dozen
+sick--four children and two adults. Their faces brightened as they saw
+Jake, then fell. "Eb and Tilda died," they reported.
+
+Feldman looked at the two figures under the sheets and whistled. The
+same black specks he had seen on the face of Billings covered the skins
+of the two old people who had died.
+
+"Funny," Jake said slowly. "They didn't quite act like the others and
+they sure died mighty fast. Darn it, I had it figured for that stuff in
+the book. Infantile paralysis. How about it, Doc? Sort of like a cold,
+stiff sore neck."
+
+It was clearly polio--one of the diseases that could attack Mars-normal
+flesh. Feldman nodded at the symptoms, staring at the sick kids. He
+shrugged, finally. "There's a cure for it, but I don't have the serum.
+Neither do you, or you wouldn't have brought me here. I couldn't help if
+I wanted to."
+
+"That old book didn't list a cure," Jake told him. "But it said the kids
+didn't have to be crippled. There was something about a Kenny treatment.
+Doc, does the stuff really cripple for life?"
+
+Feldman saw one of the boys flinch. He dropped his eyes, remembering the
+Lobby's efficient spy service on Earth and wondering what it was like
+here. But he knew the outcome.
+
+"Damn you, Jake!"
+
+Jake chuckled. "Thought you would. We sure appreciate it. Just tell us
+what to do, Doc."
+
+Feldman began writing down his requirements, trying to remember the
+details of the treatment. Exercise, hot compresses, massage. It was
+coming back to him. He'd have to do it himself, of course, to get the
+feel of it. He couldn't explain it well enough. But he couldn't turn his
+back on the kids, either.
+
+"Maybe I can help," he said doubtfully as he moved toward a cot.
+
+"No, Doc." Jake's voice wasn't amused any longer, and he held the
+younger man back. "You're doing us a favor, and I'll be darned if I'll
+let you stick your neck out too far. You can't treat 'em yourself. Mars
+is tougher than Earth. You should live under Space Lobby _and_ Medical
+Lobby here a while. Oh, maybe they don't mind a few fools like me being
+herb doctors, but they'd sure hate to have a man who can do real
+medicine outside their hands. You let me do it, or get in the tractor
+and I'll have Lou drive you back. Once you start in here, there'll be no
+stopping. Believe me."
+
+Feldman looked at him, seeing the colonials around him for the first
+time as people. It had been a long time since he'd been treated as a
+fellow human by anyone.
+
+Jake was right, he knew. Once he put his hand to the bandage, eventually
+there'd be no turning back from the scalpel. These people needed medical
+help too desperately. Eventually, the news would spread, and the Lobby
+police would come for him. Chris couldn't afford to shield him. In fact,
+he was sure now that she'd hunt him night and day.
+
+"Don't be a fool, Jake," he ordered brusquely. He handed his list to one
+of the women. "You'll have to learn to do what I do," he told the people
+there. "You'll have to work like fools for weeks. But there won't be
+many crippled children. I can promise that much!"
+
+He blinked sharply at the sudden hope in their eyes. But his mind went
+on wondering how long it would be before the inevitable would catch up
+with him. With luck, maybe a few months. But he hadn't been blessed with
+any superabundance of luck. It would probably be less time than he
+thought.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+Surgery
+
+
+Doc Feldman's luck was better than he had expected. For an Earth year,
+he was a doctor again, moving about from village to village as he was
+needed and doing what he could.
+
+The village had been isolated during the early colonization when Mars
+made a feeble attempt to break free of Space Lobby. Their supplies had
+been cut off and they had been forced to do for themselves. Now they
+were largely self-sufficient. They grew native plants and extracted
+hormones in crude little chemical plants. The hormones were traded to
+the big chemical plants for a pittance to buy what had to come from
+Earth. Other jury-rigged affairs synthesized much of their food. But
+mostly they learned to get along on what Mars provided.
+
+Doc Feldman learned from them. Money was no longer part of his life. He
+ate with whatever family needed him and slipped into the life around
+him.
+
+He was learning Martian medicine and finding that his Earth courses were
+mostly useless. No wonder the villagers distrusted Lobby doctors. Doc
+had his own little laboratory where he had managed to start making
+Mars-normal penicillin--a primitive antibiotic, but better than nothing.
+
+Jake had come to remind him that it was his first anniversary, and now
+they were smoking bracky together.
+
+"Sheer luck, Jake," Doc repeated. "You Martians are tough. But some day
+someone is going to die under my care, with the little equipment I have.
+Then--"
+
+Jake nodded slowly. "Maybe, Doc. And maybe some day Mars will break free
+of the Lobbies. You'd better pray for that."
+
+"I've been--" Doc stopped, realizing what he'd started to say. The old
+man chuckled.
+
+"You've been talking rebellion for months, Doc. I hear rumors. Whenever
+you get mad, you want us to secede. But you don't really mean it yet.
+You can't picture any government but the one you're used to."
+
+Doc grinned. Jake had a point, but it was not as strong as it would have
+been a few months before. The towns under the Lobby were cheap
+imitations of Earth, but here, divorced to a large extent from the
+lobbies, the villages were making Mars their own. Their ways might be
+strange; but they worked.
+
+Jake shifted his body in the weak sunlight. "Newton village forgot to
+report a death on time. I hear Ryan is sweating them out, trying to
+prove it was your fault."
+
+There was no evidence against him yet, Doc was sure. But Chris was out
+to prove something, and to get a reputation as a top-flight
+administrator. It must have hurt when they shipped her here as head of
+the lesser hemisphere of Mars. She'd expected to use Feldman as a front
+while she became the actual ruler of the whole Lobby. Now she wanted to
+strike back.
+
+"She's using blackmail," he said, and some of his old bitterness was in
+his voice. "Anyone taking treatment from an herb doctor in this section
+is cut off from Medical Lobby service. Damn it, Jake, that could mean
+letting people die!"
+
+"Yeah." Jake sighed softly. "It could mean letting people begin to
+think about getting rid of the Lobby, too. Well, I gotta help harvest
+the bracky. Take it easy on operating for a while, will you, Doc?"
+
+"All right, Jake. But stop keeping the serious cases a secret. Two men
+died last month because you wouldn't call me for surgery. I've broken
+all my oaths already. It doesn't matter anymore."
+
+"It matters, boy. We've been lucky, but some day one case will go to the
+hospital and they'll find your former work. Then they'll really be after
+you. The less you do the better."
+
+Doc watched Jake slump off, then turned down into the little root cellar
+and back toward the room concealed behind it, where his crude laboratory
+lay. For the moment, he was free to work on the mystery of the black
+spots.
+
+He kept running into them--always on the body of someone who died of
+something that seemed like a normal disease. Without a microscope, he
+was almost helpless, but he had taken specimens and tried to culture
+them. Some of his cultures had grown, though they might be nothing but
+unknown Martian fungi or bacteria. Mars was dry and almost devoid of
+air, but plants and a few smaller insects had survived and adapted. It
+wasn't by any means lifeless.
+
+Without a microscope, he could do little but depend on his files of
+cases. But today there was new evidence. A villager had filched an Earth
+_Medical Journal_ from the tractor driven by Chris Ryan and forwarded it
+to him. He found the black specks mentioned in a single paragraph, under
+skin diseases. Investigation of the diet was being made, since all cases
+were among people eating synthetics.
+
+There was another article on aberrant cases--a few strange little
+misbehaviors in classical syndromes. He studied that, wondering. It had
+to be the same thing. Diet didn't account for the fact that the specks
+appeared only when the patient was near death.
+
+Nor did it account for the hard lump at the base of the neck which he
+found in every case he could check. That might be coincidence, but he
+doubted it.
+
+Whatever it was, it aggravated any other disease the patient had and
+made seemingly simple diseases turn out to be completely and rapidly
+fatal. Once syphilis had been called "The Great Imitator". This gave
+promise of being worse.
+
+He shook his head, cursing his lack of equipment. Each month more people
+were dying with these specks--and he was helpless.
+
+The concealed door broke open suddenly and a boy thrust his head in.
+"Doc, there's a man here from Einstein. Says his wife's dying."
+
+The man was already coming into the room.
+
+"She's powerful sick, Doc. Had a bellyache, fever, began throwing up.
+Pains under her belly, like she's had before. But this time it's awful."
+
+Doc shot a few questions at him, frowning at what he heard. Then he
+began packing the few things that might help. There should be no
+appendicitis on Mars. The bugs responsible for that shouldn't have
+adapted to Mars-normal. But more and more infections found ways to cross
+the border. Gangrene had been able to get by without change, it seemed.
+So far, none of the contagious infections except polio and the common
+cold had made the jump.
+
+This sounded like an advanced case, perhaps already involving
+peritonitis.
+
+So far, he'd been lucky with penicillin, but each time he used it with
+grave doubts of its action on the Mars-adapted patients. If the appendix
+had burst, however, it was the only possible treatment.
+
+He riffled through his stores; There was ether enough, fortunately. The
+villagers had made that for him out of Martian plants, using their
+complicated fermentation processes. He yelled for Jake, and the boy
+brought the old man back a moment later.
+
+"Jake, I'll need more of that narcotic stuff. I don't want the woman
+writhing and tearing her stitches after the ether wears off."
+
+"Can't get it, Doc." Jake's eyes seemed to cloud as he said it.
+"Distilling plant broke down. Doc, I don't like this case. That woman's
+been to the hospital three times. I hear she just got out recently. This
+might be a plant, or they figure they can't help her."
+
+"They're afraid to try anything on Mars-normal flesh. They can't be
+proved wrong if they do nothing." Doc finished packing his bag and got
+ready to go out. "Jake, either I'm a doctor or I'm not. I can't worry
+when a woman may be dying."
+
+For a second, Jake's expression was stubborn. Then the little crow's
+feet around his eyes deepened and the dry chuckle was back in his voice.
+"Right, Dr. Feldman." He flipped up his thumb and went off at a
+shuffling run toward the tractor. Lou and the man from Einstein followed
+Doc into the machine.
+
+It was a silent ride, except for Doc's questions about the sick woman.
+Her husband, George Lynn, was evasive and probably ignorant. He admitted
+that Harriet had been to the dispensary and small infirmary that
+Southport called a hospital.
+
+It was the only place in the entire Southern hemisphere where an
+operation could be performed legally. Most cases had to go to
+Northport, but Chris had been trying to expand. Apparently, she was
+determined to make Southport into another major center before she was
+called back to Earth.
+
+Doc wondered why the villagers went there. They had no medical insurance
+with the Lobby; they couldn't afford it. Most villagers didn't have the
+cash, either. They were forced to mortgage their future work and that of
+their families to the drug plants that were run by the Lobby.
+
+"And they just turned your wife away?" Doc asked. He couldn't quite
+believe that of Chris.
+
+"Well, I dunno. She wouldn't talk much. Twice she went and they gave her
+something. Cost every cent I could borrow. Then this last time, they
+kept her a couple days before they let me come and get her. But now
+she's a lot worse."
+
+Jake spun about, suddenly tense. "How'd you pay them last time, George?"
+
+"Why, they didn't ask. I told her she could put up six months from me
+and the kids, but nobody said nothing about it. Just gave her back to
+me." He frowned slowly, his dull voice uncertain. "They told me they'd
+done all they could, not to bring her back. That's why she was so strong
+on getting Doc."
+
+"I don't like it," Jake said flatly. "It stinks. They always charge.
+George, did they suggest she get in touch with Doc here?"
+
+"Maybe they did, maybe not. Harriet did all the talking with them. I
+just do what she tells me, and she said to get Doc."
+
+Jake swore. "It smells like a trap. Are you sure she's sick, George?"
+
+"I felt her head and she sure had a fever." George Lynn was torn
+between his loyalties. "You know me, Doc. You fixed me up that time I
+had the red pip. I wouldn't pull nothing on you."
+
+Doc had a feeling that Jake was probably right, but he vetoed the
+suggestion that they stop to look for spies. He had no time for that. If
+the woman was really sick, he had to get to her at once, and even that
+might be too late.
+
+He remembered the woman, sickly from other treatment. He'd been forced
+to remove her inflamed tonsils a few months before. She'd whined and
+complained because he couldn't spend all his time attending her. She was
+a nag, a shrew, and a totally selfish woman. But that was her husband's
+worry, not his.
+
+He dashed into the little house when they reached Einstein, and his
+first glance confirmed what George Lynn had said. The woman was sick,
+all right. She was running a high fever. Much too high.
+
+She began whining and protesting at his having taken so long, but the
+pain soon forced her to stop.
+
+"There may still be a chance," Doc told her husband brusquely. He threw
+the cleanest sheet onto a table and shoved it under the single light.
+"Keep out of the way--in the other room, if you can all pile in there.
+This isn't exactly aseptic, anyhow. You can boil a lot of water, if you
+want to help."
+
+It would give them something to do and he could use the water to clean
+up. There was no time to wait for it, however. He had to sterilize with
+alcohol and carbolic acid, and hope. He bent over the woman, ripping her
+thin gown across to make room for the operation.
+
+Then he swore.
+
+Across her abdomen was the unhealed wound of a previous operation.
+They'd worked on her at Southport. They must have removed the appendix
+and then been shocked by the signs of infection. They weren't supposed
+to release a sick patient, but there was an easy out for them; they
+could remove her from the danger of spreading an unknown infection. Some
+doctors must have doped her up on sedatives and painkillers and sent her
+home, knowing that she would call him. For that matter, they might have
+noticed her unrecorded tonsillectomy and considered her fair bait.
+
+He grabbed the ether and slapped a cone over her nose. She tried to
+protest; she never cooperated in anything. But the fumes of the ether he
+dipped onto the packing of the cone soon overcame that.
+
+It was peritonitis, of course. The only thing to do was to go in and
+scrape and clean as best he could. It was a rotten job to have to do,
+and he should have had help. But he gritted his teeth and began. He
+couldn't trust anyone else to hold the instruments, even.
+
+He cleaned the infection as best he could, knowing there was almost no
+chance. He used all the penicillin he dared. Then he began sewing up the
+incision. It was all he could do, except for dressing the wound with a
+sterile bandage. He reached for one, and stopped.
+
+While he'd been working, the woman had died, far more quietly than she
+had ever lived.
+
+It was probably the only gracious act of her life. But it was damning to
+Doc. They couldn't hide her death, and any investigation would show that
+someone had worked on her. To the Lobby, he would be the one who had
+murdered her.
+
+Jake was waiting in the tractor. He took one look at Doc's face and made
+no inquiries.
+
+They were more than a mile away when Jake pointed back. Small in the
+distance, but distinct against the sands, a gray Medical Corps tractor
+was coming. Either they'd had a spy in the village or they'd guessed the
+rate of her infection very closely. They must have hoped to catch Doc in
+the act, and they'd barely missed.
+
+It wouldn't matter. Their pictures and what testimony they could force
+from the village should be enough to hang Doc.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+Research
+
+
+There had been a council the night following the death of Harriet Lynn.
+Somehow the word had spread through the villages and the chiefs had
+assembled in Jake's village. But they had brought no solution, and in
+the long run had been forced to accept Doc's decision.
+
+"I'm not going to retire and hide," he'd told them, surprised at his own
+decision, but grimly determined. "You need me and I need you. I'll move
+every day in hopes the Lobby police won't find me, but I won't quit."
+
+Now he was packing the things he most needed and getting ready to move.
+The small bottles in which he was trying to grow his cultures would need
+warmth. He shoved them into an inner pocket, and began surveying what
+must be left.
+
+He was heading for his tractor when another battered machine drove up.
+It had a girl of about fourteen, with tears streaming down her face. She
+held out a pleading hand, and her voice was scared. "It's--it's mama!"
+
+"Where?"
+
+"Leibnitz."
+
+Leibnitz was near enough. Doc started his tractor, motioning for the
+girl to lead the way. The little dwelling she led him to was at the edge
+of the village, looking more poverty-stricken than most.
+
+Chris Ryan, and three of the Medical Lobby police were inside, waiting.
+The girl's mother was tied to the bed, with a collection of medical
+instruments laid out, but apparently the threat had been enough. No
+actual injury had been inflicted. Probably none had been intended
+seriously.
+
+"I knew you'd answer that kind of call," Chris said coldly.
+
+He grinned sickly. They'd wasted no time. "I hear it's more than you'll
+do, Chris. Congratulations! My patient died. You're lucky."
+
+"She was certainly dead when my men took her picture. The print shows
+the death grimace clearly."
+
+"Pretty. Frame it and keep it to comfort you when you feel lonely," he
+snapped.
+
+She struck him across the mouth with the handle of her gun. Then she
+twisted out through the door quickly, heading for the tractor that had
+been camouflaged to look like those used by the villagers. The three
+police led him behind her.
+
+A shout went up, and people began to rush onto the village street. But
+they were too late. By the time they reached Southport, Doc could see a
+trail of battered tractors behind, but there was nothing more the people
+could do. Chris had her evidence and her prisoner.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Judge Ben Wilson might have been Jake's brother. He was older and
+grayer, but the same expression lay on his face. He must have been the
+family black sheep, since his father had been president of Space Lobby.
+Instead of inheriting the position, Wilson had remained on Mars, safely
+out of the family's way.
+
+He dropped the paper he was reading to frown at Chris. "This the
+fellow?"
+
+She began formal charges, but he cut them off. "Your lawyer already had
+all that drawn up. I've been expecting you, Doctor. Doctor! Hnnf! You'd
+do a lot better home somewhere raising a flock of babies. Well, young
+fellow--so you're Feldman. Okay, your trial comes up day after tomorrow.
+Be a shame to lock you in Southport jail, a man of your importance.
+We'll just keep you here in the pending-trial room. It's a lot more
+comfortable."
+
+Chris had been boiling slowly, and now she seemed to blow her safety
+valve. "Judge Wilson, your methods are your own business in local
+affairs. But this involves Earth Medical Lobby. I demand--"
+
+"Tch, _tch_!" The judge stared at her reprovingly. "Young woman, you
+don't demand anything. This is Mars. If Space Lobby can stand me, I
+guess our friends over at Medical will have to. Or should I hold trial
+right now and find Feldman innocent for lack of evidence?"
+
+"You wouldn't!" Chris cried. Then her face sobered suddenly. "I
+apologize. Medical is pleased to leave things in your hands, of course."
+
+Wilson smiled. "Court's closed for today. Doc, I'll show you your cell.
+It's right next to my study, so I'm heading there anyhow."
+
+He began shucking his robe while Chris went out with the police, her
+voice sharp and continual.
+
+The cell was both reasonably escape-proof and comfortable, Doc saw, and
+he tried to thank the judge.
+
+But the old man waved it aside. "Forget it. I just like to see that
+little termagant taken down. But don't count on my being soft. My
+methods may be a bit unusual--I always did like the courtroom scenes in
+the old books by that fellow Smith--but Space Lobby never had any
+reason to reverse my decisions. Anything you need?"
+
+"Sure," Doc told him, grinning in spite of his bitterness. "A good
+biology lab and an electron microscope."
+
+"Umm. How about a good optical mike and some stains? Just got them in on
+the last shipment. Figure they were meant for you anyhow, since Jake
+Mullens asked me to order them."
+
+He went out and came back with the box almost at once. He snorted at
+Doc's incredulous thanks and moved off, his bedroom slippers slapping
+against the hard floor.
+
+Doc stared after him. If he were a friend of Jake, willing to invent
+some excuse to get a microscope here ... but it didn't matter. Friend or
+foe, his death sentence would be equally fatal. And there were other
+things to be thought of now. The little microscope was an excellent one,
+though only a monocular.
+
+Doc's hands trembled as he drew his cultures out and began making up a
+slide. The sun offered the best source of light near the window, and he
+adjusted the instrument. Something began to come into view, but too
+faintly to be really visible.
+
+He remembered the stains, trying to recall his biology courses. More by
+luck than skill, his fourth try gave him results.
+
+Under two thousand powers, he could just see details. There were dozens
+of cells in his impure culture, but only one seemed unfamiliar. It was a
+long, worm-like thing, sharpened at both ends, with the three separate
+nuclei that were typical of Martian life forms. Nearby were a host of
+little rodlike squiggles just too small to see clearly.
+
+Martian life! No Martian bug had ever proved harmful to men. Yet this
+was no mutated cell or virus from Earth; it was a new disease,
+completely different from all others. It was one where all Earth's
+centuries of experience with bacteria would be valueless--the first
+Martian disease. Unless this was simply some accidental contamination of
+his culture, not common to the other samples. He worked on until the
+light was too faint before putting the microscope aside.
+
+By the time the trial commenced, however, he was sure of the cause of
+the disease. It _was_ Martian. Crude as his cultures were, they had
+proved that.
+
+The little courtroom was filled, mostly from the villages. Lou was
+there, along with others he had come to know. Then the sight of Jake
+caught Doc's eyes. The darned fool had no business there; he could get
+too closely mixed into the whole mess.
+
+"Court's in session," Wilson announced. "Doc, you represented by
+counsel?"
+
+Jake's voice answered. "Your Honor, I represent the defendant. I think
+you'll find my credentials in order."
+
+Chris started to protest, but Wilson grinned. "Never lost your standing
+in spite of that little fracas thirty years ago, so far as I know. But
+the police thought you were a witness when you came walking in. Figured
+you were giving up."
+
+"I never said so," Jake answered.
+
+Chris was squirming angrily, but the florid man acting as counsel for
+Medical Lobby shook his head, bending over to whisper in her ear. He
+straightened. "No objection to counsel for the defense. We recognize his
+credentials."
+
+"You're a fool, Matthews," the judge told him. "Jake was smarter than
+half the rest of Legal Lobby before he went native. Still can tie your
+tail to a can. Okay, let's start things. I'm too old to dawdle."
+
+Doc lost track of most of what happened. This was totally unlike
+anything on Earth, though it might have been in keeping with the general
+casualness of the villages. Maybe the ritualistic routine of the Lobbies
+was driving those who could resist to the opposite extreme.
+
+Chris was the final witness. Matthews drew comment of Feldman's former
+crime from her, and Jake made no protest, though Wilson seemed to expect
+one. Then she began sewing his shroud. There wasn't a fact that managed
+to emerge without slanting, though technically correct. Jake sat
+quietly, smiling faintly, and making no protests.
+
+He got up lazily to cross-examine Chris. "Dr. Ryan, when Daniel Feldman
+was examined by the Captain of the _Navaho_ after arriving at Mars
+station, did you identify him then as having been Dr. Daniel Feldman?"
+
+She glanced at Matthews, who seemed puzzled but unconcerned. "That's
+correct," she admitted. "But--"
+
+"And you later saw him delivered to the surface of Mars. Is that also
+correct?" When she assented, Jake hesitated. Then he frowned. "What did
+you do then? Did you report him or send anyone to look after him or
+anything like that?"
+
+"Certainly not," she answered. "He was no--"
+
+"You did absolutely nothing about him after you identified him and saw
+him delivered here? You're quite sure of that?"
+
+"I did nothing."
+
+Jake stood quietly for a moment, then shrugged. "No more questions."
+
+Matthews finished things in a plea for the salvation of all humanity
+from the danger of such men as Daniel Feldman. He was looking smug, as
+was Chris.
+
+Wilson turned to Jake. "Has the defense anything to say?"
+
+"A few things, Your Honor." Jake stood up, suddenly looking certain and
+pleased. "We are happy to admit everything factual the Lobby had
+testified. Daniel Feldman performed a surgical operation on Harriet Lynn
+in the village of Einstein. But when has it been illegal for a member of
+the Medical profession to perform an operation, even with small chance
+of success, within an accepted area for such operation? There has been
+no evidence adduced that any crime or act of even unethical conduct was
+committed."
+
+That brought Chris and Matthews to their feet. Wilson was relaxed again,
+looking as if he'd swallowed a whole cage of canaries. He banged his
+gavel down.
+
+Jake picked up two ragged and dog-eared volumes from his table. "Case of
+Harding vs. Southport, 2043, establishes that a Lobby is responsible for
+any member on Mars. It is also responsible for informing the authorities
+of any criminal conduct on the part of its members or any former member
+known to it. Failure to report shall be considered an admission that the
+Lobby recognizes the member as one in good standing and accepts
+responsibility for that member's conduct.
+
+"At the time Daniel Feldman arrived, Dr. Christina Ryan was the highest
+appointed representative of Medical Lobby in Southport, with full
+authority. She identified Feldman as having been a doctor, without
+stipulating any change in status. She made no further report to any
+authority concerning Daniel Feldman's presence here. It seems obvious
+that Medical Lobby at Southport thereby accepted Daniel Feldman as a
+doctor in good standing for whose conduct the Lobby accepted full
+responsibility."
+
+Wilson studied the book Jake held out, and nodded. "Seems pretty
+clear-cut to me," he agreed, passing the book on to Matthews. "There's
+still the charge that Dr. Feldman operated outside a hospital."
+
+"No reason he shouldn't," Jake said. He handed over the other volume.
+"This is the charter for Medical Lobby on Mars. Medical Lobby agrees to
+perform all necessary surgical and medical services for the planet,
+though at the signing of this charter there was no hospital on Mars.
+Necessarily, Medical Lobby agreed to perform surgery outside of any
+hospital, then. But to make it plainer, there's a later paragraph--page
+181--that defines each hospital zone as extending not less than three
+nor more than one hundred miles. Einstein is about one hundred and ten
+miles from the nearest hospital at Southport, so Einstein comes under
+the original charter provisions. Dr. Feldman was forced by charter
+provisions to protect the good name of his Lobby by undertaking any
+necessary surgery in Einstein."
+
+He waited until Matthews had scanned that book, then took it back and
+began packing a big bag. Doc saw that his possessions and the microscope
+were already in the bag. The old man paid no attention to the arguments
+of Matthews before the bench.
+
+Abruptly Wilson pounded his gavel. "This court finds that Dr. Daniel
+Feldman is qualified to practice all the arts and skills of the medical
+profession on Mars and that he acted ethically in the performance of his
+duties in the case of the deceased Harriet Lynn," he ruled. "The costs
+of the case shall be billed to Medical Lobby of Southport."
+
+He took off his robe and moved rapidly toward his private quarters.
+Court was closed.
+
+Doc got up shakily, not daring to believe fully what he had heard. He
+started toward Jake, trying to avoid bumping into Chris. But she would
+not be avoided. She stood in front of him, screaming accusations and
+threats that reminded him of the only fight they'd ever had during their
+brief marriage.
+
+When she ran down, he finally met her eyes. "You're a helluva doctor,"
+he told her harshly. "You spend all your time fighting me when there's a
+plague out there that may be worse than any disease we've ever known.
+Take a look at what lies under the black specks on your corpses. You'll
+find the first Martian disease. And maybe if you begin working on that
+now, you can learn to be a real doctor in time to do something about it.
+But I doubt it."
+
+She fell back from him then. "Research! You've been doing unauthorized
+research!"
+
+"Prove it," he suggested. "But you'd be a lot smarter to try some
+yourself, and to hell with your precious rules."
+
+He followed Jake out to the tractor.
+
+Surprisingly, the old man was sweating now. He shook his head at Doc's
+look, and his grin was uncertain.
+
+"Matthews is an incompetent," he said. "They could have had you, Doc.
+That charter is so sloppy a man can prove anything by it, and building a
+hospital here did bring in Earth rules. Wilson went out on a limb in
+letting you go. But I guess we got away with it. Let's get out of here."
+
+Doc climbed into the tractor more soberly. They had escaped this time.
+But there would be another time, and he was pretty sure that would be
+Chris' round. He had no intention of giving up his research.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+Plague
+
+
+Dr. Feldman leaned back from his microscope and lighted another bracky
+weed. He glanced about the room and sighed wearily. Maybe he'd been
+better off when he had no friends and couldn't risk the safety of others
+in an effort to do research that was the highest crime on two worlds.
+
+The evidence of his work was hidden thirty feet beyond his former
+laboratory in Jake's village, with a tunnel that led from another
+root-cellar. The theory was the old one that the best place to avoid
+discovery was where you had already been discovered. If their spies had
+identified his former hangout, they'd never expect to have him set up
+research nearby. It was a nice theory, but he wasn't sure of it.
+
+Jake looked up from a cot where he'd been watching the improvised
+culture incubator. "Stop tearing yourself to bits, Doc. We know the
+danger and we're still darned glad to have you here working on this."
+
+"I'm trying to put myself together into a whole man," Doc told him. "But
+I seem to come out wholly a fool."
+
+"Yeah, sure. Sometimes it takes a fool to get things done; wise men wait
+too long for the right time. How's the bug hunt?"
+
+Doc grunted in disgust and swung back to the microscope. Then he gave up
+as his tired eyes refused to focus. "Why don't you people revolt?"
+
+"They tried it twice. But they were just a bunch of pariahs shipped here
+to live in peonage. They couldn't do much. The first time Earth cut off
+shipments and starved them. Next time the villages had the answer to
+that but the cities had to fight for Earth or starve, so they whipped
+us. And there's always the threat that Earth could send over unmanned
+war rockets loaded with fissionables."
+
+"So it's hopeless?"
+
+"So nothing! The Lobbies are poisoning themselves, like cutting off
+Medical service until they cut themselves out of a job. It's just a
+matter of time. Go back to the bugs, Doc."
+
+Doc sighed and reached for his notes. "I wish I knew more Martian
+history. I've been wondering whether this bug may not have been what
+killed off the old Martians. Something had to do it, the way they
+disappeared. I wish I knew enough to make an investigation of those
+ruins out there."
+
+"Durwood!" Jake had propped himself on an elbow, staring at Doc in
+surprise.
+
+Doc scowled. "Clive Durwood, you mean? The archeologist who dug up what
+little we know about the ruins?"
+
+"Yeah, before he went back to Earth and started living off his lectures.
+He came here again three years ago and dropped dead in Edison on the way
+to some other ruins. Heart failure, they called it, though it was more
+like the two old farmers who ran themselves to death last month. I saw
+him when they buried him. His face looked funny, and I think he had
+those little specks, though I may remember wrong." He grimaced. "Mars is
+tough, Doc; it has to be. Some of the plant seeds Durwood found in the
+ruins grew! Maybe your bugs waited a million years till we came along."
+
+"What about the farmers? Did they meet Durwood?"
+
+Jake nodded. "Must have. He lived in their village most of the time."
+
+Doc went through his notes. He'd asked for reports on all deaths, and he
+finally found the account. The two old men had been nervous and fidgety
+for weeks. They were twins, living by themselves, and nobody paid much
+attention. Then one morning both were seen running wildly in circles.
+The village managed to tie them up, but they died of exhaustion shortly
+after.
+
+It wasn't a pretty picture. The disease might have an incubation period
+of nearly fifteen years, judging by the length of time it had taken to
+hit Durwood. It must spread from person to person during an early
+contagious stage, leaving widening circles behind Durwood and those
+first infected. When matured, any other sickness would set it off, with
+few symptoms of its own. But without help, it still killed its victims,
+apparently driving them madly toward frenzied physical effort.
+
+He studied the culture on a slide again. He'd tried Koch's method to get
+a pure strain, splattering the bugs onto a native starchy root and
+plucking off individual colonies. About twenty specimens had been
+treated with every chemical he could find. So far he'd found a few
+things that seemed to stop their growth, but nothing that killed them,
+except stuff far too harsh to use in living tissue.
+
+He had nearly forty cases of deaths that showed symptoms now, and he
+went back over them, looking for anything in common that went back ten
+to twenty years before death. There were no rashes nor blisters. A few
+had had apparent colds, but such were too common to mean anything.
+
+Only one thing appeared, about fourteen years before their deaths. The
+people interviewed about the victims might be vague about most things,
+but they remembered the time when "Jim had the jumping headache."
+
+"Jake," Doc called, "what's jumping headache? Most people seem to have
+it some time or other, but I haven't run across a case of it."
+
+"Sure you have, Doc. Mamie Brander's little girl a few weeks ago. Feels
+like your pulse is going to rip your skull off, right here. Can't eat
+because chewing drives you crazy. Back of your head, neck and shoulders
+swell up for about a week. Then it goes away."
+
+Then it goes away--for fourteen years, until it comes back to kill!
+
+Doc stared at his charts in sudden horror. It was a new disease--thought
+to be some virus, but not considered dangerous. Selznik's migraine,
+according to medical usage; you treated it with hot pads and anodyne,
+and it went away easily enough.
+
+He'd seen hundreds of such cases on Earth. There must be millions who
+had been hit by it. The patent-medicine branch of the Lobby had even
+brought out something called Nograine to use for self-treatment.
+
+"Something important?" Jake wanted to know.
+
+Feldman nodded. "How much weight do you swing in other villages, Jake?"
+
+"People sort of do me favors when I ask," Jake admitted. "Like swiping
+those medical journals from Northport for you, or like Molly Badger
+getting that job as maid to spy on Chris Ryan. Name it and I'll do my
+best."
+
+Doc had a vague idea of village politics, but he had more important
+things to think of. Most of his foul mood had disappeared with the clue
+he'd stumbled on, and his chief worry now was to clinch the facts.
+
+Feldman considered the problem. "I want a report on every case of
+jumping headache in every village--who had it, when, and how old they
+were. This place first, but every village you can reach. And I'll want
+someone to take a letter to Chris Ryan."
+
+Jake frowned at that, but went out to issue instructions. Doc sat down
+at a battered old typewriter. Writing Chris might do no good, but some
+warning had to be gotten through to Earth, where the vast resources of
+Medical Lobby could be thrown into the task of finding the cause and
+cure of the disease. The connection with Selznik's migraine had to be
+reported. If something could blast the Lobby into action, it wouldn't
+matter quite so much what they did to him. He wasn't foolish enough to
+expect gratitude from them, but he was getting used to the idea that his
+days were numbered. The plague was more important than what happened to
+him.
+
+The letter had been dispatched by the time Jake returned. "Here's the
+dope for this village. Everybody accounted for except you."
+
+"Never had it, Jake." Feldman went down the list. "Most of it fourteen
+years ago. That fits. About the only exceptions are the kids who seem to
+get it between the ages of two and three. Eighty-seven out of
+ninety-one!"
+
+He stared at the figures sickly. Most of the village not only had the
+plague but must be near the end of the incubation period. It looked as
+if most of the village would be dead before another year passed.
+
+"Bad?" Jake asked.
+
+"The first symptom of Martian fever."
+
+The old man whistled, the lines around his eyes tightening. "Must be
+me," he decided. "I'm the guy who must have brought it here, then. I
+used to spend a lot of time with Durwood at his diggings!"
+
+There was a constant commotion all that day and the next as runners went
+out to the villages and came back with reports. The variation from
+village to village was only slight. Most of Mars seemed to have advanced
+cases of Martian fever.
+
+Without animals for investigation and study, real research was
+difficult. Doc also needed an electron microscope. He was reasonably
+sure that the disease must travel through the nerves, but he had found
+no proof beyond the hard lump at the base of the neck. There it was a
+fair-sized organism. Elsewhere he could find nothing, until the black
+specks developed.
+
+His eyes ached from trying to see more than was visible in the
+microscope. The tantalizing suggestions of filaments around the nuclei
+might be the form of plague that was contagious. They might even be the
+true form of the bug, with the bigger cell only a transition stage.
+There were a number of diseases that involved complicated changes in the
+organisms that caused them. But he couldn't be sure.
+
+He finally buried his head in his hands, trying to do by pure thought
+what he couldn't do in any other way. And even there, he lacked
+training. He was a doctor, not a xenobiologist. Research training had
+been taboo in school, except for a favored few.
+
+The reports continued to come in, confirming the danger. They seemed to
+have the worst plague on their hands in all human history; and nobody
+who could do anything about it even knew of it.
+
+"Molly reports that your letter got some results," Jake reported. "Chris
+Ryan brought home one of the electron microscopes and a bunch of
+equipment from the hospital pathology room. Think she'll get anywhere?"
+
+Doc doubted it. Damn it, he hadn't meant for her to try it, though she
+might have authority for routine experiments. But it was like her to
+refuse to pass on the word without trying to prove her own suspicion of
+him first.
+
+He tried to comfort himself with the fact that some men were immune, or
+seemed so; about three out of a hundred showed no signs. If that
+immunity was hereditary, it might save the race. If not....
+
+Jake came in at twilight with a grim face. "More news from Molly. The
+Lobby is starting out to comb every village with a fault-finder,
+starting here. And this hole will show up like a sore thumb. Better
+start packing. We gotta be out of here in less than an hour!"
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+Fool
+
+
+Three days later, Doc saw his first runner.
+
+The tractor was churning through the sand just before sundown, heading
+toward another one-night stand at a new village. Lou was driving, while
+Doc and Jake brooded silently in the back, paying no attention to the
+colors that were blazoned over the dunes. The cat-and-mouse game was
+getting to Doc. There was no real assurance that the village they were
+approaching might not be the target the Lobby had chosen for the next
+investigation.
+
+Lou braked the tractor to a sudden halt, and pointed.
+
+A figure was running frantically over one of the low dunes with the
+little red sun behind him. He seemed headed toward them, but as he drew
+nearer they could see that he had no definite direction. He simply ran,
+pumping his legs frantically as if all the devils of hell were after
+him. His body swayed from side to side in exhaustion, but his arms and
+legs pumped on.
+
+"Stop him!" Jake ordered, and Lou swung the tractor. It halted squarely
+in the runner's path, and the figure struck against it and toppled.
+
+The legs went on pumping, digging into the dirt and gravel, but the man
+was too far gone to rise. Jake and Lou shoved him through the doors into
+the tractor and Doc yanked off his aspirator.
+
+The man was giving vent to a kind of ululating cry, weakened now almost
+to a whine that rose and fell with the motion of his legs. Sweat had
+once streaked his haggard face, but it was dry and blanched to a pasty
+gray.
+
+Doc injected enough narcotic to quiet a maddened bull. It had no effect,
+except to upset the rhythm of the arms and legs. It took five more
+minutes for the man to die.
+
+The specks were larger this time--the size of periods in twelve-point
+type. The lump at the base of the skull was as big as a small hen's egg.
+
+"From Edison, like the others so far. Jack Kooley," Jake answered Doc's
+question. "Durwood spent a lot of time here on his first expedition, so
+it's getting the worst of it."
+
+Doc pulled the aspirator mask back over the man's face and they carried
+him out and laid him on a low dune. They couldn't risk returning the
+corpse to its people.
+
+This was only the primary circle of infection, direct from Durwood. The
+second circle could be ten times as large, as the infection spread from
+one to a few to many. So far it was localized. But it wouldn't stay that
+way.
+
+Doc climbed slowly out of the tractor, lugging his small supplies of
+equipment, while Jake made arrangements for them to spend the night in a
+deserted house. But the figure of the runner and his own failures to
+find more about the disease kept haunting Doc. He began setting up his
+equipment grimly.
+
+"Better get some sleep," Jake suggested. "You're a mite more tired than
+you think. Anyhow, I thought you told me you couldn't do any more with
+what you've got."
+
+Feldman looked at the supplies he had spread out, and shook his head
+wearily. He'd been over every chemical and combination a dozen times,
+without results that showed in the limited magnification of the optical
+mike.
+
+He snapped the case shut and hit the rude table with the heel of his
+hand. "There are other supplies. Jake, do you have any signal to get in
+touch with Molly at the Ryan house?"
+
+"Three raps on the rear left window. I'll get Lou."
+
+"No!" Doc came to his feet, reaching for his jacket. "They're looking
+for three men now. It's safer if I go alone--and I'm the only one who
+knows what supplies are needed. With luck, I may even get the electron
+mike. Got a gun I can borrow?"
+
+Jake found one somewhere, an old revolver with a few loads. He began
+protesting, but Doc overruled him sharply. Three men could no more fight
+off the police than one, if they were spotted. He swung toward the
+tractor.
+
+"You'd better start spreading the word on everything we know. If people
+realize they're already safe or doomed it'll be better than having them
+going crazy to avoid contagion."
+
+"Most of the villages know already," Jake told him. "And damn it, get
+back here, Doc. If you can't make it, turn tail quick, and we'll think
+of something else."
+
+Southport seemed normal enough as Doc drove through its streets. The
+stereo house was open, and the little shops were brightly lighted. He
+stopped once to pull a copy of Southport's little newspaper from a
+dispenser. All was quiet on its front page, too.
+
+As usual, though, the facts were buried inside. The editorial was
+pouring too much oil on the waters in its lauding of the role of
+Medical Lobby on Mars for no apparent reason. The death notices no
+longer listed the cause of death. Medical knew something was up, at
+least, and was worried.
+
+He parked the tractor behind Chris' house and slipped to the proper
+window. Everything was seemingly quiet there. At his knock, the shade
+was drawn back, and he caught a brief glimpse of Molly looking out. A
+moment later she opened the rear lock to let him into the kitchen.
+
+"Shh. She's still up, I think. What can I do, Doc?"
+
+He tried to smile at her. "Hide me until it's safe to get into her
+laboratory. I've got to--"
+
+The inner kitchen was kicked open and Chris stood beyond it, holding a
+cocked gun in her hand.
+
+"It took longer than I expected, Dan," she said quietly. "But after your
+letter, I knew you'd swallow the bait. You bloody fool! Did you really
+believe I'd start doing research here just because of your imaginings?"
+
+He slumped slowly back against the sink. "So this is a fool's errand,
+then? There never was any equipment here?"
+
+"The equipment's here--in my office. I guessed your spies would report
+it, so it had to be here. But it won't help you now, pariah Feldman!"
+
+He came from his braced position against the sink like a spring
+uncoiling. He expected her to shoot, but hoped the surprise would ruin
+her aim. Then it was too late, and his boot hit the gun savagely,
+knocking it from her hand. Life in the villages had hardened him
+surprisingly. She was comparatively helpless in his hands. A few minutes
+later, he had her bound securely with surgical tape Molly brought him.
+She raged furiously in the chair where he'd dumped her, then gave up.
+
+"They'll get you, Daniel Feldman!" Surprisingly, there was no rage in
+her voice now. "You won't get away from us. The planet isn't big
+enough."
+
+"I got away from your trial," he reminded her. "And I got away and lived
+when you left me without a chance on the ground of the spaceport."
+
+She laughed harshly. "_You_ got away then? You fool, who do you think
+gave you the extra battery so you could live long enough to be helped at
+the spaceport? Who hired a fool like Matthews so you wouldn't get the
+death sentence you deserved? Who let you get away as an herb doctor for
+months before you set yourself up as God and a traitor to mankind
+again?"
+
+It shook him, as it was probably intended to do. How had she known about
+the extra battery? He'd always assumed that Ben had returned to give it
+to him. But in that case, Chris couldn't know of it. Then he hardened
+himself again. In the old days, she'd always had one trump card he
+couldn't beat and hadn't expected. But too much was involved for games
+now.
+
+"Any police around, Molly?" he asked.
+
+Molly came back a minute later to report that everything looked clear
+and to show him where the equipment had been set up in Chris' office. It
+was all there, including the electron mike--a beautiful little portable
+model. There was even a small incubator with its own heat source into
+which he immediately transferred the little bottles he'd been keeping
+warm against his skin. Most of the equipment had never been unpacked,
+which made loading it onto his tractor ridiculously easy.
+
+"Better come with me now, Molly," he suggested at last. Then he turned
+to Chris, who was watching him with almost no expression. "You can
+wriggle your chair to the phone in half an hour, I guess. Knock the
+phone off and yell for help. It's better than you deserve, unless you
+really did leave me that battery."
+
+"You won't get away with it," she told him again, calmly this time.
+
+"No," he admitted. "Probably not. But maybe the human race will, if I
+have time to find an answer to the plague you won't see under your nose.
+But you won't get away with it, either. In the long run, your kind never
+do."
+
+Molly was sniffling as they drove away. It had probably been the best
+life she'd known, Doc supposed. Chris could be kind to menials. But now
+Molly's work was done, and she'd have to disappear into the villages. He
+let her off at the first village and drove on alone. He was itching to
+get to the microscope now, hardly able to wait through the long journey
+back to Jake. His impatience grew with each mile.
+
+Finally he gave up. He swung the tractor into a small gulley between
+sand dunes, left the motor idling and pulled down the shades the
+villagers used for blackout traveling. There was power enough for the
+mike here, and the cab was big enough for what he had to do.
+
+He mounted the mike on the tractor seat and began laying out the
+collection of smears and cultures he had brought. It had been years
+since he'd made a film for the electron mike, but he found it all came
+back to him as he worked.
+
+His hands were sweating with tension as he inserted the first film into
+the chamber. He had the magnetic "lenses" set for twenty thousand power,
+but a quick glance showed it was too weak. He raised the power to fifty
+thousand.
+
+The filaments were there, clear and distinct.
+
+He turned on the little tape recorder that had been part of Chris'
+equipment and set the microphone where he could dictate into it without
+stopping to make clumsy notes. He readjusted the focus carefully,
+carrying on a running commentary.
+
+Then he gasped. Each of the little filaments carried three tiny darker
+sections; each was a cell, complete in itself, with the typical Martian
+triple nucleus.
+
+He put a film with a tiny section of the nerve tissue from a corpse into
+the chamber next, and again a quick glance at the screen was enough. The
+filaments were there, thickly crowded among nerve cells. They _did_
+travel along the nerves to reach the base of the brain before the larger
+lump could form.
+
+A specimen from one of the black specks was even more interesting. The
+filaments were there, but some were changed or changing into tiny, round
+cells, also with the triple dark spots of nuclei. Those must be the
+final form that was released to infect others. Probably at first these
+multiplied directly in epithelial tissue, so that there was a rapid
+contagion of infection. Eventually, they must form the filaments that
+invaded the nerves and caused the brief bodily reaction that was
+Selznik's migraine. Then the body adapted to them and they began to
+incubate slowly, developing into the large cells he had first seen. When
+"ripe", the big cells broke apart into millions of the tiny round ones
+that went back to the nerve endings, causing the black spots and killing
+the host.
+
+He knew his enemy now, at least.
+
+He reached for the controls, increasing the magnification. He would lose
+resolution, but he might find something more at the extreme limits of
+the mike.
+
+Something wet and cold gushed into his face. He jerked back, trying to
+wipe it off, but it was already evaporating, and there was a thick,
+acrid odor in the cab. He grabbed for his aspirator, then tried to reach
+the airlock. But paralysis was already spreading through him, and he
+toppled to the floor before he could escape.
+
+When he came to, it was morning outside, and Chris was waiting inside
+the cab with two big Lobby policemen. A hypo in her hand must have been
+what revived him.
+
+She touched the electron microscope with something like affection. "The
+Lobby technicians did a good job on this, don't you think, Dan? I warned
+you, but you wouldn't listen. And now we've even got your own taped
+words to prove you were doing forbidden research. Fool!"
+
+She shook her head pityingly as the tractor began moving with two others
+toward Southport.
+
+"You and your phony diseases. A little skin disorder, Selznik's
+migraine, and a few cases of psychosis to make a new disease. Do you
+think Medical Lobby can't check on such simple things? Or didn't you
+expect us to hear of your open talk of revolt and realize you were
+planning to create some new germ to wipe out the Earth forces. Maybe
+those runners of yours were real, mass murderer!"
+
+She drew out another hypo and shoved the needle into his arm.
+Necrosynth--enough to keep him unconscious for twenty-four hours. He
+started to curse her, but the drug acted before he could complete the
+thought.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+Judgment
+
+
+Doc woke to see sunlight shining through a heavily barred window that
+must be in the official Southport jail. He waited a few minutes for his
+head to clear and then sat up; necrosynth left no hangover, at least.
+
+The sound of steps outside was followed by the squeak of a key in the
+lock. "Fifteen minutes, Judge Wilson," a voice said.
+
+"Thank you, officer." Wilson came into the cell, carrying a tray of
+breakfast and a copy of the Northport _Gazette_. He began unloading
+bracky weeds from his pocket while Doc attacked the breakfast.
+
+"They tossed the book at you, Doc," he said. "You haven't got a chance,
+and there's nothing the villages can do. Trial's set for tomorrow at
+Northport, and it's in closed session. We can't get you off this time."
+
+Doc nodded. "Thanks for coming, even if there's nothing you can do. I've
+been living on borrowed time for a year, anyhow, so I have no right to
+kick. But who's 'we'?"
+
+"The villages. I've been part of their organization for years." The old
+man sighed heavily. "You might say a revolution has been going on since
+I can remember, though most villagers don't know it. We've just been
+waiting our time. Now we've stopped waiting and the rifles will be
+coming out--rifles made in village shops. The villages are going to
+rebel, even if we're all dead of plague in a month."
+
+Doc Feldman nodded and reached for the bracky. He knew that this was
+their way of trying to make him feel his work hadn't been for nothing,
+and he was grateful for Wilson's visit. "It was a good year for me.
+Damned good. But time's running short. I'd better brief you on the
+latest on the plague."
+
+Wilson began making notes until Doc was finished. Finally he got up as
+steps sounded from the hall. "Anything else?"
+
+"Just a guess. A lot of Earth germs can't live in Mars-normal flesh;
+maybe this can't live in Earth-normal. Tell them so long for me."
+
+"So long, Doc." He shook hands briefly and was waiting at the door when
+the guard opened it.
+
+An hour later, the Lobby police took Feldman to the Northport shuttle
+rocket. They had some trouble on the way; a runner cut down the street,
+with the crowds frantically rushing out of his way. Terror was reaching
+the cities already.
+
+Doc flashed a look at Chris. "Mob hysteria. Like flying saucers and
+wriggly tops, I suppose?" he asked, before the guard could stop him.
+
+They locked his legs, but left his hands free in the rocket. He unfolded
+the paper Wilson had brought and buried his face in it. Then he swore.
+They _were_ explaining the runners as a case of mob hysteria!
+
+Northport was calmer. Apparently they had yet to have first-hand
+experience with the plague. But now nothing seemed quite real to Doc,
+even when they locked him into the big Northport jail. The whole ritual
+of the Lobbies seemed like a fantasy after the villages.
+
+It snapped back into focus, however, when they led him into the trial
+room of the Medical Lobby building. It was a smaller version of his
+trial on Earth. Fear washed in by association. The complete lack of
+humanity in the procedure was something from a half-remembered and
+horrible past.
+
+The presiding officer asked the routine question: "Is the prisoner
+represented by counsel?"
+
+Blane, the dapper little prosecutor, arose quickly. "The prisoner is a
+pariah, Sir Magistrate."
+
+"Very well. The court will accept the protective function for the
+prisoner. You may proceed."
+
+_I'll be judge, I'll be jury._ And prosecution and defense. It made for
+a lot less trouble. Of course, if Space Lobby had asserted interest, it
+would have gone to a supposedly neutral court. But as usual, Space was
+happy to leave it in the hands of Medical.
+
+The tape was played as evidence. Doc frowned. The words were his, but
+there had been a lot of editing that subtly changed the import of his
+notes.
+
+"I protest," he challenged. "It's not an accurate version."
+
+The Lobby magistrate turned a wooden face to him. "Does the prisoner
+have a different version to introduce?"
+
+"No, but--"
+
+"The evidence is accepted. One of the prisoner's six protests will be
+charged against him."
+
+Blane smiled smoothly and held up a small package. "We wish to introduce
+this drug as evidence that the prisoner is a confirmed addict, morally
+irresponsible under addiction. This is a package of so-called bracky
+weed, a vile and noxious substance found in his possession."
+
+"It has alkaloids no more harmful than nicotine," Feldman stated
+sharply.
+
+"Do you contend that you find the taste pleasing?" Blane asked.
+
+"It's bitter, but I've gotten used to it."
+
+"I've tasted it," the magistrate said. "Evidence accepted. Two
+deductions, one for irregularity of presentation."
+
+Doc shrugged and sat back. He'd tested his rights and found what he
+expected. It was hard to see now how he had ever accepted such
+procedure. Jake must be right; they'd been in power too long, and were
+making the mistake of taking the velvet glove off the iron fist and
+flailing about for the sheer pleasure of power.
+
+It dragged on, while he became a greater and greater monster on the
+record. But finally it was over, and the magistrate turned to Feldman.
+"You may present your defense."
+
+"I ask complete freedom of expression," Doc said formally.
+
+The magistrate nodded. "This is a closed court. Permission granted. The
+recording will be scrambled."
+
+The last bit ruined most of the purpose Doc had in mind. But it was too
+late to change. He could only hope that some one of the Medical men
+present would remember something of what he said.
+
+"I have nothing to say for myself," he began. "It would be useless. But
+I had to do what I did. There's a plague outside. I've studied that
+plague, and I have knowledge which must be used against it...."
+
+He sat down in three minutes. It had been useless.
+
+Blane arose, with a smile still plastered on his face. "We, of course,
+recognize the existence of a new contagion, but I believe we have
+established that this is one disseminated by the prisoner himself, and
+probably not directly contagious. There have been many cases of fanatics
+ready to destroy humanity to eliminate those they hate. Now, surely, the
+prisoner has himself left no question of his attitude. He asserts he has
+knowledge and skill greater than the entire Medical Research staff. He
+has attempted to intimidate us by threats. He is clearly psychopathic,
+and dangerously so. The prosecution rests."
+
+The guards took Doc into the anteroom, where he was supposed to hear
+nothing that went on. But their curiosity was stronger than their
+discretion, and the door remained a trifle ajar.
+
+The magistrate began the discussion. "The case seems firm enough. It's
+fortunate Dr. Ryan acted so quickly, with some of the people getting
+nervous. Perhaps it might be wise to publicize our verdict."
+
+"My thought exactly," Blane agreed. "If we show Feldman is responsible
+and that Medical is eliminating the source of the infection, it may have
+a stabilizing effect."
+
+"Let's hope so. The sentence will have to be death, of course. We can't
+let such a rebellious psychopath live. But this needs something more, it
+seems. You've prepared a recommendation, I suppose."
+
+"There was the case of Albrecht Delier," Blane suggested. "Something
+like that should have good publicity impact."
+
+It struck Doc that they sounded as if they believed themselves--as the
+witch-burners had believed in witches. He was sweating when the guards
+led him before the bench.
+
+The magistrate rolled a pen slowly across his fingers as his eyes raked
+Feldman. "Pariah Daniel Feldman, you have been found guilty on all
+counts. Furthermore, your guilt must be shared by that entire section of
+Mars known as the villages. Therefore the entire section shall be banned
+and forbidden any and all services of the Medical Lobby for a period of
+one year."
+
+"Sir Magistrate!" One of the members of Southport Hospital staff was on
+his feet. "Sir Magistrate, we can't cut them off completely."
+
+"We must, Dr. Harkness. I appreciate the fine humanitarian tradition of
+our Lobby which lies behind your protest, but at such a time as this the
+good of the body politic requires drastic measures. Why not see me after
+court, and we can discuss it then?"
+
+He turned back to Feldman, and his face was severe.
+
+"The same education which has produced such fine young men as Dr.
+Harkness was wasted on you and perverted to endanger the whole race. No
+punishment can equal your crimes, but there is one previously invoked
+for a particularly horrible case, and it seems fitting that you should
+be the fourth so sentenced.
+
+"Daniel Feldman, you are sentenced to be taken in to space beyond
+planetary limits, together with all material used by you in the
+furtherance of your criminal acts. There you shall be placed into a
+spacesuit containing sufficient oxygen for one hour of life, and no
+more. You and your contaminated possessions shall then be released into
+space, to drift there through all eternity as a warning to other men.
+
+"This sentence shall be executed at the earliest possible moment, and
+Dr. Christina Ryan is hereby commissioned to observe such execution. And
+may God have mercy on your soul!"
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+Execution
+
+
+The hours of waiting were blurred for Doc. There were periods when fear
+clogged his throat and left him gasping with the need to scream and beat
+his cell walls. There were also times when it didn't seem to matter, and
+when his only thoughts were for the villages and the plague.
+
+They brought him the papers, where he was painted as a monster beside
+whom Jack the Ripper and Albrecht Delier were gentle amateurs. They were
+trying to focus all fear and resentment on him. Maybe it was working.
+There were screaming crowds outside the jail, and the noise of their
+hatred was strong enough to carry through even the atmosphere of Mars.
+But there were also signs that the Lobby was worried, as if afraid that
+some attempt might still be made to rescue him.
+
+He'd looked forward to the trip to the airport as a way of judging
+public reaction. But apparently the Lobby had no desire to test that.
+The guards led him up to the roof of the jail, where a rocket was
+waiting. The landing space was too small for one of the station
+shuttles, but a little Northport-Southport shuttle was parked there
+after what must have been a difficult set-down. The guards tested Doc's
+manacles and forced him into the shuttle.
+
+Inside, Chris was waiting, carrying an official automatic. There was
+also a young pilot, looking nervous and unhappy. He was muttering under
+his breath as the guards locked Doc's legs to a seat and left.
+
+"All right," Chris ordered. "Up ship!"
+
+"I tell you we're overweight with you. I wasn't counting on three for
+the trip," the pilot protested. "The only thing that will get this into
+orbit with the station is faith. I'm loaded with every drop of fuel
+she'll hold and it still isn't enough."
+
+"That's your problem," Chris told him firmly. "You've got your orders,
+and so have I. Up ship!"
+
+If she had her own worries about the shuttle, she didn't show it. Chris
+had never been afraid to do what she felt she should. The pilot stared
+at her doubtfully and finally turned back to his controls, still
+muttering.
+
+The shuttle lifted sluggishly, but there was no great difficulty. Doc
+could see that there was even some fuel remaining when they slipped into
+the tube at the orbital station. Chris went out, and other guards came
+in to free him.
+
+"So long, Dr. Feldman," the pilot called softly as they led him out.
+Then the guards shoved him through the airlock into the station. Fifteen
+minutes later he was locked into one of the cabins of the _Iroquois_,
+with all his possessions stacked beside him.
+
+He grinned wryly. As an honest worker on the _Navaho_ he'd been treated
+like an animal. Now, as a human fiend, he was installed in a luxury
+cabin of the finest ship of the fleet, with constant spin to give a
+feeling of weight and more room than the entire tube crew had known.
+
+He roamed the cabin until he found a little collapsible table. He set
+the electron microscope up on that and plugged it in. It seemed a shame
+that good equipment should be wasted along with his life. He wondered
+if they would really throw it out into space with him. Probably they
+would.
+
+He pushed a button on the call board over the table and asked for the
+steward. There was a long wait, as if the procedure were being checked
+with some authority, but finally he received a surly acknowledgement.
+"Steward. Whatcha want?"
+
+"How's the chance of getting some food?"
+
+"You're on first-class."
+
+They could afford it, Doc decided. He wouldn't cost them much,
+considering the distance he was going. "Bring me two complete
+dinners--one Earth-normal and one Mars-normal."
+
+"Okay, Feldman. But if you think you can suicide that way, you're wrong.
+You may be sick, but you'll be alive when they dump you."
+
+A sharp click interrupted him. "That's enough, Steward. Captain Everts
+speaking. Dr. Feldman, you have my apologies. Until you reach your
+destination, you are my passenger and entitled to every consideration of
+any other passenger except freedom of movement through the ship. I am
+always available for legitimate complaints."
+
+Feldman shook his head. He'd heard of such men. But he'd thought the
+species extinct.
+
+The steward brought his food in a thoroughly chastened manner. He
+managed to find space for it and came to attention. "Is that all--sir?"
+
+For a moment, as the smell of real steak reached him, Doc regretted the
+fact that his metabolism had been switched. Then he shrugged. A little
+wouldn't hurt him, though there was no proper nourishment in it. He
+squeezed some of the gravy and bits of meat into one of his bottles,
+sticking to his purpose; then he fell to on the rest. But after a few
+bites, it was queerly unsatisfactory. The seemingly unappealing
+Mars-normal ragout suited his current tastes better, after all.
+
+Once the steward had cleared away the dishes, Doc went to work. It was
+better than wasting his time in dread. He might even be able to leave
+some notes behind.
+
+A gong sounded, and a red light warned him that acceleration was due. He
+finished with his bottles, put them into the incubator, and piled into
+his bunk, swallowing one of the tablets of morphetal the ship furnished.
+
+Acceleration had ended, and a simple breakfast was waiting when he
+awoke. There was also a red flashing light over the call board. He
+flipped the switch while reaching for the coffee.
+
+"Captain Everts," the speaker said. "May I join you in your cabin?"
+
+"Come ahead," Feldman invited. He cut off the switch and glanced at the
+clock on the wall. There were less than eleven hours left to him.
+
+Everts was a trim man of forty, erect but not rigid. There was neither
+friendliness nor hostility in his glance. His words were courteous as
+Doc motioned toward the tray of breakfast. "I've already eaten, thank
+you."
+
+He accepted a chair. His voice was apologetic when he began. "This is a
+personal matter which I perhaps have no right to bring up. But my wife
+is greatly worried about this plague. I violate no confidence in telling
+you there is considerable unease, even on Earth, according to messages I
+have received. The ship physician believes Mrs. Everts may have the
+plague, but isn't sure of the symptoms. I understand you are quite
+expert."
+
+Doc wondered about the physician. Apparently there was another man who
+placed his patients above anything else, though he was probably
+meticulous about obeying all actual rules. There was no law against
+listening to a pariah, at least.
+
+"When did she have Selznik's migraine?" he asked.
+
+"About thirteen years ago. We went through it together, shortly after
+having our metabolism switched during the food shortage of '88."
+
+Doc felt carefully at the base of the Captain's skull; the swelling was
+there. He asked a few questions, but there could be no doubt.
+
+"Both of you must have it, Captain, though it won't mature for another
+year. I'm sorry."
+
+"There's no hope, then?"
+
+Doc studied the man. But Everts wasn't the sort to dicker even for his
+life. "Nothing that I've found, Captain. I have a clue, but I'm still
+working on it. Perhaps if I could leave a few notes for your
+physician--"
+
+It was Everts' turn to shake his head. "I'm sorry, Dr. Feldman. I have
+orders to burn out your cabin when you leave. But thank you." He got to
+his feet and left as quietly and erectly as he had entered.
+
+Doc tore up his notes bitterly. He paced his cabin slowly, reading out
+the hours while his eyes lingered on the little bottle of cultures. At
+times the fear grew in him, but he mastered it. There was half an hour
+left when he began opening the little bottles and making his films.
+
+He was still not finished when steps echoed down the hall, but he was
+reasonably sure of his results. The bug could not grow in Earth-normal
+tissue.
+
+Three men entered the room. One of them, dressed in a spacesuit, held
+out another suit to him. The other two began gathering up everything in
+the cabin and stowing it neatly into a sack designed to protect freight
+for a limited time in a vacuum.
+
+Doc forced his hands to steadiness with foolish pride and began climbing
+into the suit. He reached for the helmet, but the man shook his head,
+pointing to the oxygen gauge. There would be exactly one hour's supply
+of oxygen when he was thrown out and it still lacked five minutes of the
+deadline.
+
+They marched him down the hallway, to meet Everts coming toward them.
+There were still three minutes left when they reached the airlock, with
+its inner door already open. The spacesuited man climbed into it and
+began strapping down so that the rush of air would not sweep him outward
+when the other seal was released.
+
+Doc had saved one bracky weed. Now he raised it to his lips, fumbling
+for a light.
+
+Everts stepped forward and flipped a lighter. Doc inhaled deeply. Fear
+was thick in every muscle, and he needed the smoke desperately. Then he
+caught himself.
+
+"Better change your metabolism back to Earth-normal, Captain Everts," he
+said, and his voice was so normal that he hardly recognized it.
+
+Everts' eyes widened briefly. The man bowed faintly. "Thank you, Dr.
+Feldman."
+
+It was ridiculous, impossible, and yet there was a curious relief at the
+formality of it. It was like something from a play, too unreal to affect
+his life.
+
+Everts nodded to the man holding the helmet. Doc dropped his bracky weed
+and felt the helmet snap down. A hiss of oxygen reached him and the suit
+ballooned out. There was no gravity; the two men handed him up easily to
+the one in the airlock while the inner seal began to close.
+
+There was still ten seconds to go, according to the big chronometer that
+had been installed in the lock. The spaceman used it in tying the sack
+of possessions firmly to Doc's suit.
+
+A red light went on. The man caught Doc and held him against the outer
+seal. The red light blinked. Four seconds ... three ... two....
+
+There was a sudden heavy thudding sound, and the _Iroquois_ seemed to
+jerk sideways slightly. The spaceman's face swung around in surprise.
+
+The red light blinked and stayed on. Zero!
+
+The outer seal snapped open and the spaceman heaved. Air exploded
+outwards, and Doc went with it. He was alone in space, gliding away from
+the ship, with oxygen hissing softly through the valve and ticking away
+his life.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+Convert
+
+
+Feldman fought for control of himself, forced himself to think, to hold
+onto his sanity. It was sheer stupidity, since nothing could have been
+more merciful than to lose this reality. But the will to be himself was
+stronger than logic. And bit by bit, he forced the fear and horror away
+from him until he could examine his situation.
+
+He was spinning slowly, so that stars ahead of him seemed to crawl
+across his view. The ship was retreating from him already hundreds of
+yards away. Mars was a shrunken pill far away.
+
+Then something blinked to one side. He turned his head to stare.
+
+A little ship was less than three hundred yards away. He recognized it
+as a life raft. Now his spin brought him around to face it, and he saw
+it was parallelling his course. The ejection of the life raft must have
+caused the thump he'd heard before he was cast adrift.
+
+It meant someone was trying to save him. It meant _life_!
+
+He flailed his arms and beat his legs together, senselessly trying to
+force himself closer, while trying to guess who could have taken the
+chance. No one he could think of could have booked passage on the
+_Iroquois_. There wasn't that much free money in the villages.
+
+Something flashed a hot blue, and the little ship leaped forward.
+Whoever was handling it knew nothing about piloting. It picked up too
+much speed at too great an angle.
+
+Again blue spurts came, but this time matters were even worse. Then
+there was a long wait before a third try was made. He estimated the
+course. It would miss him by a good hundred feet, but it was probably
+the best the amateur pilot could do. The ship drifted closer, but to one
+side. It would soon pass him completely.
+
+A spacesuited figure suddenly appeared in the tiny airlock, holding a
+coil of rope. The rope shot out, well thrown. But it was too short. It
+would pass within ten feet--and might as well have been ten miles for
+all the good it would do him.
+
+Every film he had seen on space seemed to form a mad jumble in his mind,
+but he seized on the first idea he could remember. He inhaled deeply and
+yanked the oxygen tank free. An automatic seal on the suit cut off the
+connection. He aimed the hissing bottle, fumbling for the manual valve.
+
+It almost worked. It kicked him toward the rope slightly, but most of
+the energy was wasted in setting him into a wilder spin. He blinked,
+trying to spot the rope. It was within five feet now.
+
+Again he waited, until he seemed to be in position. This time he threw
+the bottle away from it. It added spin to his vertical axis, but the
+rope came into view within arm's reach.
+
+He grasped it, just as his lungs seemed about to burst. He couldn't hold
+on long enough to tie the rope....
+
+His lungs gave up suddenly, collapsing and then sucking in greedily.
+Clean air rushed in, letting his head clear. He'd forgotten that the
+inflated suit held enough oxygen for several minutes.
+
+His body struck the edge of the airlock and a hand jerked him inside.
+The outer seal was slammed shut and locked, and there was a hiss of air
+entering.
+
+He threw back his helmet just as Chris Ryan jerked hers off.
+
+Her voice shook almost hysterically. "Thank God. Dan, I almost gave up!"
+
+"I liked the air out there better," he told her bitterly. "If you'll
+open the lock again, I'll leave. Or am I supposed to believe this is
+rescue and that you came along just to save me?"
+
+"I came along to see you killed, as you know very well. Saving you
+wasn't in my orders."
+
+He grunted and reached for the handle that would release the outer lock.
+"Better get back inside if you don't want to blow out with me."
+
+"It's up to you, Dan," she told him, and there was all the sincerity in
+the world in her blue eyes. "I'm on your side now."
+
+He began counting on his fingers. "Let's see. The spare battery, the
+delay in arresting me, the choice of Matthews--"
+
+"It was all true." Anger began to grow in her eyes. "Dan Feldman, you
+get inside this raft! If you don't care about me, you might consider the
+people dying of the plague who need you!"
+
+She'd played her trump, and it took the round. He followed her.
+
+"All right," he said grudgingly. "Spill your story."
+
+She held out a copy of a space radiogram, addressed to Mrs. D. E.
+Everts, and signed by one of the best doctors on the Lobby Board of
+Directors.
+
+     Regret confirm diagnosis. Topsecret. Repeat topsecret.
+     Martian fever incubates fourteen years, believed highly
+     fatal. No cure, research beginning immediately. Penalty
+     violation topsecret, death all concerned.
+
+"Mrs. Everts rates a topsecret break?" Doc commented dryly. "Come off
+it, Chris!"
+
+"She's the daughter of Elmers of Space Lobby!" Chris answered. She
+pointed to the message, underlining words with her finger. "_Fourteen
+years._ You couldn't have caused it. _Highly fatal._ And people are
+being told it's only a skin disease. _Research beginning._ But you've
+already done most of the research. I can see that now. I can see a lot
+of things."
+
+"You've got me beat then," he said. "I can't see how such a reformed
+young noblewoman calmly walked over and stole a life raft. I can't see
+how your brilliant mind concocted this whole scheme in almost no time.
+And to be honest, I can't even see why Medical Lobby decided to save me
+at the last minute and sent you to do the job. You didn't have to spy
+out knowledge from me. I've been trying all along to get it to your
+Research division."
+
+She sighed and dropped onto a little seat.
+
+"I can't prove my motives. You'll just have to believe me. But it wasn't
+hard to do what I've done. That shuttle pilot was found in a routine
+check, stowed away on the life raft. I was with Captain Everts when he
+was found, so I discovered how to get into the raft. And I heard his
+whole confession. He wasn't the real pilot. He'd come from the villages
+to save you. The whole scheme was his. I just used it, hoping I could
+reach you."
+
+As always her story had a convincing element she shouldn't have known.
+The pilot's farewell, addressing him as Dr. Feldman, had been too low
+for her to hear, but it was something that fitted her story. It was
+probably a deliberate clue to give him hope, to assure him the villages
+were still trying. It shook his confidence.
+
+"And your motive--your real motive?" he insisted.
+
+She swore at him, then began ripping off the spacesuit. She turned her
+back, pulling a thin blouse down from her neck. He stared, then reached
+out to touch the lump there.
+
+"So you've had Selznik's migraine and know you're carrying plague. And
+you've decided your precious Lobby won't save you?"
+
+She dropped her eyes, then raised them to meet his defiantly. "I'm not
+just scared and selfish. Dad caught it, too, and it must be close to the
+time for him. He switched to Mars-normal when he was a liaison agent and
+never changed back. Dan, are we all going to have to die? Can't you save
+him?"
+
+Feldman was out of his suit and at the control panel. There was a manual
+lever, which Chris must have used before. It might work out here where
+there was room to maneuver and nothing to hit. But trying to make a
+landing was going to be different.
+
+"Dan?" she repeated.
+
+He shrugged. "I don't know. They've started research too late and
+they'll be under so much pressure that the real brains won't have a
+chance. The topsecret stuff looks bad for research. Maybe there's a
+cure. It works in culture bottles, but it may fail in person. When I'm
+convinced I'm safe with you, I may tell you about it."
+
+"Oh." Her voice was low. Then she sighed. "I suppose I can understand
+why you hate me, Dan."
+
+"I don't hate you. I'm too mixed up. Tomorrow maybe, but not now. Shut
+up and let me see if I can figure out how to land this thing."
+
+He found that the fuel tanks were nearly full, but that still didn't
+leave much margin. Mars must have been notified by Everts and be ready
+to pick the raft up. He had to reach the wastelands away from any of the
+shuttle ports. They had no aspirators, however, and they couldn't cover
+much territory in the spacesuits they would have to use. It meant he'd
+have to land close to a village where he was known.
+
+He jockeyed the ship around by trial and error, studying the manual that
+was lying prominently on the control panel. According to the booklet,
+the ship was simple to operate. It was self-leveling in an atmosphere,
+and automatic flare computers were supposed to make it possible for an
+amateur to judge the rate of descent near the surface. It looked
+reassuring--and was probably written with that in mind.
+
+Finally he reached for the control, hoping he'd figured his landing
+orbit reasonably well by simple logic. He smoothed it out in the
+following hours as he watched the markings on Mars. When they were near
+turnover point, he began cranking the little gyroscope to swing the
+ship. It saved fuel to turn without power, and he wasn't sure he could
+have turned accurately by blasting.
+
+He was gaining some proficiency, however, he felt. But now he had to
+waste fuel and ruin his orbit again. There was no way to practice
+maneuvering without actually doing so.
+
+In the end, he compromised, leaving a small margin for a bad landing
+that would require a second attempt, but with less practice than he
+wanted.
+
+He had located Jake's village through the little telescope when he
+finally reached for the main blast control. The thin haze of Mars'
+atmosphere came rushing up, while the blast lashed out. Then they were
+in the outer fringes of the sky and the blast was beginning to show a
+corona that ruined visibility.
+
+He turned to the flare computer and back to what he could see through
+the quartz viewport. He was going to land about half a mile from the
+village, as nearly as he could judge.
+
+The computer seemed to work as it should. The speed was within
+acceptable limits. He gave up trying to see the ground and was forced to
+trust the machinery designed for amateur pilots. The flare bloomed, and
+he yanked down on the little lever.
+
+It could have been worse. They hit the ground, bounced twice, and turned
+over. The ship was a mess when Feldman freed himself from the elastic
+straps of the seat. Chris had shrieked as they hit, but she was
+unbuckling herself now.
+
+He threw her her spacesuit and one of the emergency bottles of oxygen
+from the rack. "Hurry up with that. We've sprung a leak and the
+pressure's dropping."
+
+They were halfway to the village when a dozen tractors came racing up
+and Jake piled out of the lead one to drag the two in with him.
+
+"Heard about it from the broadcasts and figured you might land around
+here. Good to see you, Doc." He started the tractor off at full speed,
+back to the wastelands, while Doc stared at the armed men who were
+riding the tractors.
+
+Jake caught his look and nodded. "You're in enemy territory, Doc.
+There's a war going on!"
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+War
+
+
+Sometimes it seemed to Doc that war was nothing but an endurance race to
+see how many times they could run before they were bombed. He was just
+beginning to drop off to sleep after a long trip for the sixth
+consecutive day when the little alarm shrilled. He sighed and shook
+Chris awake.
+
+"Again?" she protested. But she got up and began helping him pack.
+
+Jake came in, his eyes weary, pulling on the old jacket with the big
+star on its sleeve. Doc hadn't been too surprised to learn that Jake was
+the actual leader of the rebels. "Shuttles spotted taking off this way.
+And I still can't find where the leak is. They haven't missed our
+location once this week. Here, give me that."
+
+He took the electron mike that had been among Doc's' possessions, but
+Chris recaptured it. "I can manage," she told him, and headed out for
+the tractor where Lou was waiting.
+
+Doc scowled after her. He and Jake had been watching her. She was too
+useful to Doc's research to be turned away, but they didn't trust her
+yet. So far, however, they had found nothing wrong with her conduct.
+Still....
+
+He swung suddenly into Jake's tractor. "Just remembered something. How'd
+they find me that time I stopped in the tractor to use the mike? I was
+pretty well hidden, and no tracks last in the sand long enough for them
+to have followed. But they were there when I came to. Somehow, they must
+have put a radio tracer on me."
+
+Jake waited while they lighted up, his eyes suddenly bright. "You mean
+something you got from her house was bugged? It figures."
+
+"And I've still got all the stuff. Now they find wherever we set up
+headquarters, though they've always managed to miss my laboratory, even
+when they've hit the troops around us. Jake, I think it's the
+microscope." Doc managed to push enough junk off one of the seats to
+make a cramped bed, and stretched out. "Sure, we figured they sent her
+because they want to keep tabs on what I discover. They've finally
+gotten scared of the plague, and she's the perfect Judas goat. But they
+have to have some way to get in touch with her. I'll bet there's a
+tracer in the mike and a switch so she can modulate it or key it to send
+out Morse."
+
+"Yeah," Jake nodded. "Well, she does her own dirty work. I might get to
+like her if she was on our side. Okay, Doc. If they've put things into
+the mike, I've got a boy who'll find and fix it so she won't guess it's
+been touched."
+
+Doc relaxed. For the moment, there would be no power in the instrument,
+nor any excuse for her to use it. But she must have handled some secret
+arrangement during the work periods. She used the mike more than he did.
+The switch could be camouflaged easily enough. If anyone detected the
+signal, they'd probably only think it was some leak in the electrical
+circuit.
+
+Far away, the shuttle rockets had appeared as tiny dots in the sky. They
+were standing on their tails a second later, just off the ground,
+letting the full force of their blasts bake the area where headquarters
+had been.
+
+Jake watched grimly, driving by something close to instinct. Then he
+looked back. "Know anything about a Dr. Harkness?"
+
+"Not much, except that he protested sealing off the villages. Why?"
+
+"He and five other doctors were picked up, trying to get through to us.
+Claimed they wanted to give us medical help. We can use them, God knows.
+I guess I'll have to chance it."
+
+They stopped at a halfway village and hid the tractors before looking
+for a place to rest. Doc found Chris curled up asleep against the
+microscope. He had a hard time getting her to leave it in the tractor,
+but she was too genuinely tired to put up any real argument.
+
+Jake reported in the morning before they set out again. "You were right,
+Doc. It was a nice job of work. Must have taken the best guys in
+Southport to hide the circuit so well. But it's safe now. It just makes
+a kind of meaningless static nobody can trace. Maybe we can get you a
+permanent lab now."
+
+Doc debated again having Chris left behind and decided against it. The
+Lobby was determined to let him find a cure for them if he could. That
+meant Chris would work herself to exhaustion trying to help. Let her
+think she was doing it for the Lobby! It was time she was on the
+receiving end of a double cross.
+
+"It's a stinking way to run a war," he decided.
+
+Jake chuckled without much humor. "It's the war you wanted, remember?
+They forced our hand, but it had to come sometime. Right now the Lobby's
+fighting to get their hands on your work before we can use it; they're
+just using holding tactics, which helps our side. And we're hoping you
+get the cure so we can win. With that, maybe we'll whip them."
+
+It was a crazy war, with each side killing more of its own men than of
+the enemy. The runners were increasing, and Jake's army was learning to
+shoot the poor devils mercifully and go on. They knew, at least, that
+there was no current danger of infection. In the Lobby towns, more were
+dying of panic in their efforts to escape the runners.
+
+Desert towns had joined the villages, reluctantly but inevitably, to
+give the rebels nearly three-quarters of the total population. But the
+Lobby forces and the few cities held most of the real fighting equipment
+and they were ready to wait until Earth could send out unmanned rockets,
+loaded with atomics, which could cut through space at ten times normal
+speed.
+
+There were vague lines of battle, but time was the vital factor. The
+Lobbies waited to steal a cure for the plague and the villages waited
+until they could announce it and demand surrender as its price.
+
+It looked as if both sides were doomed to disappointment, however. He
+and Chris had put in every spare minute between moving and the minimum
+of sleep in searching for something that would check the disease. It
+couldn't grow in an Earth-normal body, but it didn't die, either. And
+there wasn't enough normal food available to permit the switch-over for
+more than a handful of people. Even Earth was out of luck, since eighty
+percent of her population ate synthetics. There were ways to synthesize
+Earth-normal food, but they were still hopelessly inefficient.
+
+Jake had ordered one of the villages to rebuild their plant for such a
+purpose, while another was producing the enzyme that would permit
+switching. But it looked hopeless for more than a few of the most
+valuable men.
+
+"No progress?" Jake asked for the hundredth time.
+
+Doc grinned wryly. "A lot, but no help. We've found a fine accelerator
+for the bug. We can speed up its incubation or even make someone already
+infected catch it all over again. But we can't slow it down or stop it."
+
+The new laboratory was still being fitted when they arrived. It had been
+dug into one of the few real cliffs in this section of Mars. The power
+plant had been installed, complete with a steam plant that would operate
+off sunlight in the daytime through a series of heat valves that took in
+a lot of warm air and produced smaller amounts hot enough to boil water.
+
+"I'll see you whenever I can," Jake said. "But mostly, you're going to
+be somewhat isolated so they won't trace you. Let them think they goofed
+with the shuttles and hit you and Chris. Anything you need?"
+
+"Guinea pigs," Doc told him sarcastically. It was meant as a joke,
+though a highly bitter one. Jake nodded and left them.
+
+Doc opened the cots as Chris came in, not bothering to unpack the
+equipment. "Hit the sack, Chris," he told her.
+
+She looked at him doubtfully. "You almost said that the way you'd
+address a human being, Dan. You're slipping. One of these days you'll
+like me again."
+
+"Maybe." He was too tired to argue. "I doubt it, though. Forget it and
+get some sleep."
+
+She watched him silently until he got up to turn out the light. Then she
+sighed heavily. "Dan?"
+
+"Yeah?"
+
+"I never got a divorce. The publicity would have been bad. But anyway,
+we're still married."
+
+"That's nice." He swung to face her briefly. "And they found the radio
+in the microscope. Better get to sleep, Chris."
+
+"Oh." It was a quiet exclamation, barely audible. There was a sound that
+might have been a sniffle if it had come from anyone else. Then she
+rolled over. "All right, Dan. I still want to help you."
+
+He cursed himself for a stupid fool for telling her. Fatigue was ruining
+what judgment he had. From now on, he'd have to watch her every minute.
+Or had she really seen the value of the research by now? She wasn't a
+fool. It should have registered on even her stubborn mind. But he was
+too sleepy to think about it.
+
+She had breakfast ready in the morning. She made no comment on what had
+been said during the night. Instead, she began discussing a way to keep
+one of the organic antibiotics from splitting into simpler compounds
+when they tried to switch it over to Mars-normal. They were both
+hopelessly bad chemists and biologists, but there was no one else to do
+the work.
+
+Chris worked harder than ever during the day.
+
+Just after sundown, Jake came in with a heavy box. He dropped it onto
+the floor. "Mice!"
+
+Doc ripped off the cover, exposing fine screening. There were at least
+six dozen mice inside!
+
+"Harkness found them," Jake explained. "A hormone extraction plant used
+them for testing some of the products. Had them sent by regular
+shipments from Earth. Getting them cost a couple of men, but Harkness
+claims it's worth it. He's a good man on a raid. Here!"
+
+He'd gone to the doorway again and came back with another box, this one
+crammed with bottles and boxes. "They had quite a laboratory, and
+Harkness picked out whatever he thought you could use."
+
+Chris and Doc were going through it. The labels were engineering ones,
+but the chemical formulae were identification enough. There were dozens
+of chemicals they hadn't hoped to get.
+
+"Anything else?" Doc finally asked as they began arranging the supplies.
+
+"More runners. A lot more. We're still holding things down, but it's
+reaching a limit. Panic will start in the camps if this keeps on. But
+that's my worry. You stick to yours."
+
+Several of the new chemicals showed promise in the tubes. But two of
+them proved fatal to the mice and the others were completely innocuous
+in the little animal's bodies, both to mouse and to germ. The plague was
+much hardier in contact with living cells than in the artificial
+environment of the culture jars.
+
+They lost seven mice in two days, but that seemed unimportant; the
+females were already living up to their reputations, nearly all
+pregnant. Doc didn't know the gestation period, but he remembered that
+it was short.
+
+"Funny they all started at the same time," he commented. "Must have been
+shipped out separately or else been kept apart while they were switched
+over to Mars-normal. Something interrupted their habits, anyhow."
+
+A few nights later they learned what it was. There was a horrible
+squealing that woke him out of the depths of his sleep. Chris was
+already at the light switch. As light came on, they turned to the mouse
+box.
+
+All the animals were charging about in their limited space, their little
+legs driving madly and their mouths open. What they lacked in size they
+made up in numbers, and the din was terrific.
+
+But it didn't last. One by one, the mice began dropping to the floor of
+the cage. In fifteen minutes, they were all dead!
+
+It was obviously the plague, contracted after having their metabolism
+switched. Women were sterile for some time after Selznik's migraine
+struck, and the same must have been true of the mice. They must have
+contracted the plague at about the same time and reached fertility
+together. Somehow, the plague incubation period had been shortened to
+fit their life span; the disease was nothing if not adaptive.
+
+Chris prepared a slide in dull silence. The familiar cell was there when
+Doc looked through the microscope. He picked up one of the little
+creatures and cut it open, removing one of the foetuses.
+
+"Make a film of that," he suggested.
+
+She worked rapidly, scraping out the almost microscopic brain,
+dissolving out the fatty substance, and transferring the result to a
+film. This time, even at full magnification, there was no sign of the
+filaments that were always present in diseased flesh. The results were
+the same for the other samples they made.
+
+"Something about the very young animal or a secretion from the mother's
+organs keeps the bug from working." Doc reached for a bracky weed and
+accepted a light from Chris without thinking of it. "Every kid I've
+heard about contracted the plague between the second and third year.
+None are born with it, none get it earlier. I've suspected this, but now
+here's confirmation."
+
+Chris began preparing specimens, while Doc got busy with tubes of the
+culture. They'd have to test various fluids from the tiny bodies, but
+there were enough cultures prepared. Then, if the substance only
+inhibited growth, there would be a long, slow test; if it killed the
+bugs, they might know more quickly.
+
+Jake came in before the final tests, but waited on them. Doc was
+studying a film in the microscope. He suddenly motioned excitedly for
+Chris.
+
+"See the filaments? They're completely disintegrated. And there's one of
+the big cells broken open. We've got it! It's in the blood of the
+foetus. And it must be in the blood of newborn children, too!"
+
+Jake looked at the slide, but his face was doubtful.
+
+"Maybe you've got something, Doc. I hope so. And I hope you can use it."
+He shook his head wearily. "We need good news right now. A couple of big
+rockets just reached the station and they've been sending shuttles back
+and forth a mile a minute. Nobody can figure how they got here so fast
+or what they're for. But it doesn't look good for us!"
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+Susceptibility
+
+
+Doc could feel the tension in the village where GHQ was temporarily
+located long before they were close enough for details to register. The
+people were gathered in clusters, staring at the sky where the station
+must be. A few were pacing up and down, gesticulating with tight sweeps
+of their arms.
+
+One woman suddenly went into even more violent action. She leaped into
+the air and then took off at a rapid trot, then a run. Her hands were
+tearing at her clothes and her mouth seemed to be working violently. She
+was halfway to the top of the nearest dune before a rifle cracked. She
+dropped, to twitch once and lie still.
+
+Almost with her death, another figure leaped from one of the houses, his
+face bare of the necessary aspirator. He took off at a violent run, but
+he was falling from lack of air before the bullet ended his struggles.
+
+The people suddenly began to move apart, as if trying to get away from
+each other. For weeks they had faced the horror with courage; now it was
+finally too much for them.
+
+Tension mounted as no news came from the cities. Doc noticed that it
+seemed to aggravate or speed up the disease. He saw three men shot in
+the next half-hour.
+
+He was trying to calm them with word of a possible cure for the plague,
+but their reactions were as curiously dull as those of Jake had been. As
+he spoke, they faced him with set expressions. At his mention of the
+need for the blood of young children, they turned from him, sullenly
+silent.
+
+Jake came over, nodding unhappily. "It's what I was afraid might happen,
+Doc. George Lynn! Tell Doc what's wrong."
+
+Lynn was reluctant, but he finally stumbled out his explanation. "It
+ain't like you, Doc. Comes from that Lobby woman you got. It's her dirty
+idea. We've seen the Lobby doctors cutting open our kids, poisoning
+their blood, and bleeding them dry. That ain't gonna happen again, Doc.
+You tell her it ain't!"
+
+Doc swore as he realized their ignorance. An unexplained vaccination
+looked like poisoning of the blood. But he couldn't understand the
+bleeding part until Jake filled him in.
+
+"Northport infant's wing. Each department has its own blood bank and
+donation is compulsory. Southport started it a couple months ago, too."
+
+The long arm of the Lobby had reached out again. Now if he ever got them
+to try the treatment, it would be only after long sessions of preparing
+them with the facts, and there was hardly enough time for the crucial
+work!
+
+By afternoon, Judge Ben Wilson reached them. His voice shook with
+fatigue as he climbed up to address the crowd through a power megaphone.
+"Southport's going crazy." He had to pause for breath between each
+sentence. "Earth's pulling back all the important people. They're
+packing them into the ships. They're leaving only colonials with no
+Earth rights. Those ships left when they decided the plague was coming
+from here. They won't let anybody back until the plague is licked. There
+won't be an Earth technician on Mars tomorrow."
+
+"No bombs?" someone called.
+
+"No bombs. The ships must have started before you rebelled, maybe meant
+honestly to save their own kind. But now it's a military action, and
+don't think it won't mean trouble. The poor devils in the city bet on
+the wrong horse. Now they can't run their food factories or anything
+else for long. Not without technicians. They've got to whip you now. Up
+to this time, they've been fighting for the Lobbies. Now they'll fight
+you for their own bellies to get your supplies. And they've still got
+shuttle rockets and fuel for them. Now beat it. I gotta confer with
+Jake."
+
+Doc started after the judge, but Dr. Harkness caught his arm and drew
+him aside. Chris followed.
+
+"I've found another epidemic," Harkness told them. "Over at Marconi.
+It's kept me on the run all night, and now half the village is down with
+it. Starts like a common cold, runs a fair fever, and the skin breaks
+out all over with bright red dots...."
+
+He went on describing it. Chris began asking him about what medical
+supplies he had brought with him, pilfered from Northport hospital. She
+seemed to know what it was, but refused to say until she saw the cases.
+Doc also preferred to wait. Sometimes things weren't as bad as they
+seemed, though usually they were worse.
+
+Marconi was dead to all outward appearances, with nobody on the streets.
+It had been a village of great hopes a week before, since this was where
+they had decided to experiment with switching the people back to
+Earth-normal. They'd had the best chance of survival of anyone on Mars
+until this came up.
+
+Three people lay on the beds in the first house Harkness led them to.
+The room was darkened, and a man was stumbling around, trying to tend
+the others, though the little spots showed on his skin. He grinned
+weakly. "Hi, Doc. I guess we're making a lot of trouble, ain't we?"
+
+Chris gave Doc no chance to answer. "Just as I thought. Measles! Plain
+old-fashioned measles."
+
+"Figured so," the sick man said. "Like my brother back on Earth."
+
+The others looked doubtful, but Doc reassured them. Chris should know;
+she'd worked in a swanky hospital where the patients were mostly
+Earth-normal. Measles was one of the diseases which was foiled by the
+metabolism switch. Well, at least they wouldn't have to be quarantined
+here.
+
+Chris finished treating the family with impersonal efficiency,
+discussing the symptoms loudly with Harkness. "It's a good thing it
+isn't serious!"
+
+"No," Harkness answered bitterly. "Not serious. It's only killed five
+children and three adults so far!"
+
+"It would, here," Doc agreed unhappily. He led Chris out of the room on
+the pretext of washing his hands. "It's serious enough to force us to
+abandon the whole idea of going back to Earth-normal. Measles today,
+smallpox, tuberculosis, scarlet fever and everything else tomorrow.
+These people have lived Mars-normal so long their natural immunity has
+been destroyed. On Earth where the disease was everywhere, kids used to
+pick up some immunity with constant exposure, even without what might be
+called a case of the disease. Here, the blood has no reason to build
+antibodies. They can be killed by things people used to laugh at. How
+the disease got here, I don't know. But it's here. So we'll have to
+give up the idea of switching back to Earth-normal."
+
+He gathered up one of the kits and started toward the other houses. "And
+Lord knows how long it will take to get the blood for the other
+treatment, even if it works."
+
+They worked as a team for a while, with Harkness frowning as he watched
+Chris. Finally the young doctor stopped Chris outside the fifth house.
+"These are my patients, Dr. Ryan. I left the Lobby because I didn't
+believe colonials were mere livestock. I still feel the same. I
+appreciate your help in diagnosis and methods of treatment. But I can't
+let you handle my patients this way."
+
+"Dan!" She swung around with eyes glazing. "Dan, are you going to stand
+for that?"
+
+"I think you'd better wait in the tractor, Chris."
+
+He was lucky enough to catch the kit she threw at him before its
+precious contents spilled. But it wasn't luck that guided his hand to
+the back of her skirt hard enough to leave it stinging.
+
+Her face froze and she stormed out. A moment later they heard the
+tractor start off.
+
+But Doc had no time to think of her. He and Harkness split up and began
+covering the streets, house by house, while he passed on the word to
+abandon the metabolism switch and go back to Mars-normal.
+
+Jake sent two other doctors to relieve them late in the evening. Things
+were somewhat quieter at GHQ as Doc reported the events at Marconi.
+
+"Where's Dr. Ryan?" Jake asked at last.
+
+Doc exchanged glances with Harkness. "She isn't in the lab?"
+
+"Wasn't there an hour ago."
+
+Doc cursed himself for letting her go. With the knowledge that the radio
+in the mike was disabled, she'd obviously grabbed the first chance to
+report back. And with her had gone news of the only cure they had found.
+
+Jake took it as philosophically as he could, though it was a heavy blow
+to his hopes. They spent half the night looking for her tractor, on the
+chance that she might have gotten lost or broken down, but there was no
+sign of it.
+
+She was waiting in the laboratory when he returned at dawn. Her face was
+dirty and her uniform was a mess. But she was smiling. She got up to
+greet him, holding out two large bottles.
+
+"Infant plasma--straight from Southport. And if you think I had it easy
+lying my way in and out of the hospital, you're a fool, Dan Feldman. If
+the man who took my place there hadn't been a native idiot, I never
+would have gotten away with it."
+
+The things he had suspected could still be right, he realized. She could
+have reported everything to the Lobby. It was a better explanation than
+her vague account of bullying her way in and out. But she'd had a rough
+drive, and he wanted the plasma. Curiously, he was glad to have her back
+with him. He reached out a hand for the bottles.
+
+She put the bottle on the table and grabbed up a short-bladed knife.
+"Not so fast," she cried. Her eyes were blazing now. "Dan Feldman, if
+you touch those bottles until you've crawled across the floor on your
+face and apologized for the way you treated me the last few days, I'll
+cut your damned heart out."
+
+He shook his head, chuckling at the picture she made. There were times
+when he could almost see why he'd married her.
+
+"All right, Chris," he gave in. "I'll be darned if I'll crawl, but
+you've earned an apology. Okay?"
+
+She sighed uncertainly. Then she nodded and began changing for work.
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+Immunity
+
+
+They worked through the day in what seemed to be armed truce. There was
+no coffee waiting for him when he awoke next, as he'd come to expect,
+but he didn't comment. He went to where she was already working,
+checking on the results of the plasma on the cultures.
+
+The response had been slower than with the mouse blood, but now the bugs
+seemed to be dead. The filaments were destroyed, and there were no signs
+of the big cells. It seemed to be a cure, at least in the culture
+bottles.
+
+"We'll need volunteers," he decided. "There should be animals, but we
+don't have any. At least this stuff isn't toxic. We need a natural
+immune and someone infected. Two of each, so one can be treated and the
+other used for a control. Makes four. Not enough to be sure, but it will
+have to do."
+
+"Two," Chris corrected. "You're not infected, I am."
+
+"Two others," he agreed. "I'll get them from Jake."
+
+Most of GHQ was out on the street, but Doc found Jake inside the big
+schoolroom where he enjoyed his early morning bracky and coffee. The
+chief listened and agreed at once, turning to the others in the room.
+
+"Who's had the jumping headache? Okay, Swanee. Who never had it?" He
+blinked in surprise as three men nodded out of the eight present. "I
+guess you go, Tom."
+
+The two men stood up, tamping out their weeds, and went out with Doc.
+
+Chris had everything set up. They matched coins to decide who would be
+treated. Doc noticed that Chris would get no plasma, while he was
+scheduled for everything. He watched her prepare the culture and add the
+accelerator that would speed development and make certain he and Tom
+were infected, then let her inject it.
+
+That was all, except for the waiting. To keep conditions more closely
+alike, they were to stay there until the tests were finished, not even
+eating for fear of upsetting the conditions. Swanee dug out a pack of
+worn cards and began to deal while Doc dug out some large pills to use
+as chips.
+
+It was an hour later when the pain began. Doc had just won the pot of
+fifty pills and opened his mouth for the expected gloating. He yelled as
+an explosion seemed to go off inside his head. Even closing his mouth
+was agony.
+
+A moment later, Tom began to sweat. It got worse, spreading to the whole
+area of the back of the head and neck. Doc lay on the cot, envying Chris
+and Swanee who had already been infected naturally. He longed
+desperately for bracky, and had to keep reminding himself that no drugs
+must upset the tests. It was the longest day he had ever spent, and he
+began to doubt that he could get through it. He watched the little clock
+move from one minute to nine over to half a minute and hung breathless
+until it hit the nine. There was no question about whether the infection
+had taken. Now they could dull the agony.
+
+Chris had the anodyne tablets already dissolved in water, and Swanee was
+passing out three lighted bracky weeds. It took a few minutes for the
+relief of the anodyne, and even that couldn't kill all the pain. But it
+didn't matter by comparison. He sucked the weed, mashed it out and began
+dealing the cards again.
+
+They had a plentiful supply of the anodyne and used it liberally during
+the night. The test was a speeded-up simulation of the natural course of
+the disease, where painkiller would take time to get for most people
+here, but would then be used generously.
+
+Precisely at nine in the morning, Chris began to inject Swanee and Doc
+with plasma.
+
+Now there was no thought of cards. They waited, trying to talk, but with
+most of their attention on the clock. Doc had estimated that an hour
+should be enough to show results, but it was hard to remember that an
+hour was the guess as to the minimum time.
+
+He winced as Chris took a tiny bit of flesh from his neck. She went to
+the other men, and then submitted to his work on herself. Then she began
+preparing the slides.
+
+"Feldman," she read the name of the slide as she inserted it into the
+microscope. Then her breath caught sharply. "Only dead cells!"
+
+It was the same for Swanee and Tom. Each had to look at his own slide
+and have it explained before the results could be believed. But at last
+Chris bent over her own slide. A minute later she glanced up, nodding.
+"What it should be. It checks."
+
+Tom whooped and went out the door to notify Jake. There was only plasma
+for some two hundred injections, but that should yield sufficient proof.
+Once salvation was offered, there should be no trouble convincing the
+people that blood donations from their children were worthwhile.
+
+Later, when the last of the plasma had been used, they could finally
+relax. Chris slipped off her smock and dropped onto the cot. A tired
+smile came onto her lips. "You're forgiven, Dan," she said. A moment
+later she was obviously asleep. Doc meant to join her, but it was too
+much effort. He leaned his head forward onto his arms, vaguely wondering
+why she was calling off the feud.
+
+It was night outside when he awoke, and he was lying on the cot, though
+he still felt cramped and strained. He stirred, groaning, and finally
+realized that a hand was on his shoulder shaking him. He looked up to
+see Jake above him. Chris was busy with the coffee maker.
+
+Jake slumped onto the cot beside Doc. "We took Southport," he announced.
+
+That knocked the sleep out of Doc's system. "You what?"
+
+"We took it, lock, stock and barrel. I figured the news of your cure
+would put guts into the men, and it did. But we'd probably have taken it
+anyhow. There wasn't anything to fight for there after Earth pulled out
+and the plague really hit. Wilson mistook last-minute panic for fighting
+spirit. The poor devils didn't have anything to fight about, once the
+Lobby stopped goading them."
+
+Doc tried to assimilate the news. But once the surprise was gone, he
+found it meant very little. Maybe his revolutionary zeal had cooled,
+once the Lobby men had pulled out. "We'll need a lot more plasma than
+there is in Southport," he said.
+
+"Not so much, maybe," Jake denied. "Doc, three of the men you injected
+were shot down as runners. Your plasma's no good."
+
+"It takes time to work, Jake. I told you there might be a case or two
+that would be too close to the edge. Three is more than I expected; but
+it's not impossible."
+
+"There was plenty of time. They blew after we got back from Southport."
+Jack dropped his hand on Doc's shoulder, and his face softened.
+"Harkness tested every man you injected. He finished half an hour ago.
+Five showed dead bugs. The rest of them weren't helped at all."
+
+Doc fumbled for a weed, trying to think. But his thoughts refused to
+focus. "Five!"
+
+"Five out of two hundred. That's about average. And what about Tom? He
+was jumping around after the test last night, telling how you'd cured
+him, how he'd seen the dead bugs; but he never had the jumping headache,
+and you never gave him the plasma! He's got dead bugs, though. Harkness
+tested him."
+
+Doc let his realization of his own idiocy sink in until he could believe
+it. Jake was right. Tom had never been treated, yet Chris had reported
+dead bugs. They'd all been so ready to believe in miracles that no one
+had been able to think straight after the long wait.
+
+"There was a bump on his neck--a small one," he said slowly. "Jake, he
+must have caught it, even if he seemed immune. If he was taking anodyne
+anyway for something--or unconscious--"
+
+"He was up in Northport six years ago for a kidney operation," Jake
+admitted doubtfully. "We had to chip in to pay for it. But you still
+didn't treat him, and he's cured. Face it, Doc, that plasma is no good
+inside the body."
+
+His hand tightened on Doc's shoulder again. "We're not blaming you. We
+don't judge a man here except by what he is. Maybe the stuff helps a
+little. We'll go on using it when we get it; tell everybody you were a
+mite optimistic, so they'll figure it's a gamble, but have a little hope
+left. And you keep trying. Something cured it in Tom. Now you find out
+what."
+
+Doc watched him go out numbly, and turned to Chris.
+
+"It can't be right," she said shakily. "You and Swanee were cured. Maybe
+it was the accelerator. It had to be something."
+
+"You didn't have the accelerator," he accused.
+
+"No, and I've still got live bugs. I was never supposed to be cured, so
+I expected to see just what I saw. How I missed the fact that Tom should
+have been like me, I don't know. Damn it, oh, damn it!"
+
+He's never seen her cry before, except in fury. But she mastered it
+almost at once, shaking tears out of her eyes. "All right. Plasma works
+in a bottle but not in an adult body. Maybe something works in the body
+but not in a bottle."
+
+"Maybe. And maybe some people are just naturally immune after it reaches
+a certain stage. Maybe we ran into coincidence."
+
+But he didn't believe that, any more than she did. The answer had to be
+in the room. He'd taken a massive dose of the disease and been cured in
+a few hours.
+
+Outside the room, the war went on, drawing toward a close. The supposed
+partial cure was good propaganda, if nothing else, and Jake was widening
+his territory steadily. There was only token resistance against him. He
+had the Southport shuttles now to cover huge areas in a hurry. But
+inside the room, the battle was less successful. It wasn't the
+accelerator. It wasn't the tablets of anodyne. They even tried sweeping
+the floor and using the dust without results.
+
+Then another test in the room, made with four volunteers Jake selected,
+yielded complete cures after injections with plain salt water in place
+of plasma.
+
+The plague speeded up again. About four people out of a hundred now
+seemed to have caught the disease and cured themselves. They accounted
+for what faith was left in Doc's plasma and gave some unfounded hope to
+the others.
+
+Northport fell a week later, putting the whole planet in rebel hands.
+
+Jake returned, wearier than ever. He'd proved to be one of the natural
+immunes, but the weight of the campaign that could only end in a defeat
+by the plague left him no room to rejoice in his personal fortune.
+
+This time he looked completely defeated. And a moment later, Doc saw why
+as Jake flipped a flimsy sheet onto the table. It bore the seals of
+Space and Medical Lobbies.
+
+Jake pointed upwards. "The war rockets are there, all right. We knew
+they'd come. Now all they want for calling them off is our surrender and
+your cure. If they don't get both, they'll blow the planet to bits. We
+have two days."
+
+The rockets could be seen clearly with binoculars. There were more than
+enough to destroy all life on the planet. Maybe they'd be used
+eventually, anyhow, since the Lobbies wanted no more rebellion. But with
+a cure for the plague, he might have bought them off.
+
+Chris stood beside him, looking as if it were a bitter pill for her,
+too. She'd risked herself in the hands of the enemy, had cooperated with
+him in everything she'd been taught to oppose, and had worked like a
+dog. Now the Lobbies seemed to forget her as a useless tool. They were
+falling back on a raw power play and forgetting any earlier schemes.
+
+"Maybe they'd hold off for a while if I agreed to go to them and share
+all my ideas, specimens and notes," he said at last. "Do you think your
+Lobby would settle for that, Chris?"
+
+"I don't know, Dan. I've stopped thinking their way." She seemed almost
+apologetic for the admission.
+
+He dropped an arm over her shoulder and turned with her back to the
+laboratory. "Okay, then we've got to find a miracle. We've got two days
+ahead of us. At least we can try."
+
+But he knew he was lying to himself. There wasn't anything he could
+think of to try.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+Decision
+
+
+Two days was never enough time for a miracle. Doc decided as he packed
+his notes into a small bag and put it beside his bundle of personal
+belongings. He glanced around the room for the last time, and managed a
+grin at Jake's gloomy expression.
+
+"Maybe I can bluff them, or maybe they'll string along for a while," he
+said. "Anyhow, now that they've agreed to take me and my notes in place
+of the cure we're fresh out of, I've got to be on that shuttle when it
+goes back to their men at orbital station."
+
+Jake nodded. "I don't like selling friends down the river, Doc. But it
+wouldn't do you any more good to blow up with the planet, I reckon. They
+won't call off the war rockets when they do get you, of course. But
+maybe they won't use them, except as a threat to put the Lobbies back
+in, stronger than ever."
+
+He stuck out one of his awkwardly shaped hands, clapped the aspirator
+over his face and hurried out. Doc picked up his bags and went toward
+the little tractor where Lou was waiting to drive him and Chris back
+toward Southport and the shuttle rocket that would be landing for them.
+They hadn't mentioned Chris in their demands, but her father must expect
+her to return.
+
+After they had him, he'd be on his own. His best course was probably to
+insist on talking only to Ryan at Medical Lobby, and then being
+completely honest. The room here would be kept sealed, in case the
+Lobby wanted to investigate where he had failed. And his notes were
+honest, which was something that could usually be determined. Chris
+could testify to that, anyhow, since she'd kept a lot of them for him.
+
+At best, there would be a chance for some compromise and perhaps some
+clue for them that might eventually end the plague. They had enough men
+to work on it, and billions in equipment. At worst, he should gain a
+little time.
+
+"Cheer up, Chris," he told her as he climbed through the little airlock.
+"Maybe Harkness will turn up the cure before our negotiations break
+down. He has the whole of Northport Hospital to play with. They haven't
+tried to chase him out of there yet. After all, we almost found
+something with no equipment except wild imaginations."
+
+She shook her head as the tractor began moving. "Shut up! I've got
+enough trouble without your coming down with logorrhea. Don't be a
+fool."
+
+"Why change now?" he asked her. "Everything I've done has been because I
+am a fool. I guess my luck lasted longer than I could expect. And I'm
+still fool enough to think that the solution has to turn up eventually.
+We know it has to be in that room. Damn it, we must know it--if we could
+only think straight now."
+
+She reached over and touched his hand, but made no comment. They had
+been over that statement of desperation too many times already. But it
+kept nagging at him--something in the room, something in the room!
+Something so common that nobody noticed it!
+
+They passed a crowd chasing down a runner. Something in that room could
+have saved the unlucky man. It could have saved Mars, perhaps.
+
+He growled for the hundredth time, cursing his fatigue-numbed mind. Too
+little sleep, too much coffee and bracky....
+
+He reached for the package of weed, realizing that he would miss it on
+Earth, if he ever got there. Like everything here on the planet, he'd
+begun by detesting it and wound up finding it the thing he wanted to
+keep forever. He lighted the bracky and sat smoking, watching Lou drive.
+When the first was finished, he lighted another from the butt.
+
+She put out a hand and took it away. "Please, Dan. I can stand the
+stuff, but I'll never like it, and the tractor's stuffy enough already.
+I've taken enough of it. And it keeps reminding me of our test--the
+three of you stinking up the place, puffing and blowing that out, while
+I couldn't even get a breath of air...."
+
+She was getting logorrhea herself now and--
+
+The answer finally hit him! He jerked around, making a grab for Lou's
+shoulder, motioning for the man to head back.
+
+"Bracky--it has to be! Chris, that's it. Jake picked out the second
+group of men from his friends--and they are all cronies because they
+hang around so much in their so-called smoking room. The first time, it
+killed the bugs for all of us who smoked--and it didn't work for you
+because you never learned the habit."
+
+Lou had the tractor turned and the rheostat all the way to the floor.
+
+She was sitting up now, but she wasn't fully satisfied. "The percentage
+of immunes seems about right. But why do some of the smokers get the
+disease while some don't?"
+
+"Why not? It depends on whether they pick up the habit before or after
+the disease gets started. Tom must have got his while he was in
+Northport. They wouldn't let him smoke there--if he had the habit
+before, for that matter."
+
+She found no fault with that. He twisted it back and forth in his mind,
+trying to find a fault. There seemed to be none. The only trouble was
+that they couldn't send a message that bracky was the cure and hope that
+Earth would prove it true. No polite note of apology would do after
+that. They had to be sure. Too many other ideas had proved wrong
+already.
+
+Jake saw them coming and came running toward the laboratory, but Lou
+stopped the tractor before it reached the building and let the older man
+in.
+
+"Get me a dozen men who have the plague. I want the worst cases you
+have, and ones that Harkness tested himself," Doc ordered. "And then
+start praying that the cure we've got works fast."
+
+Chris was at the electron mike at once, but one of her hands reached out
+for the weed. She began puffing valiantly, making sick faces. Now other
+men began coming in, their faces struggling to find hope, but not daring
+to believe yet. Jake followed them.
+
+"We'll test at ten-minute intervals. That will be about two hours for
+the last from the group," Doc decided. One of the doctors Harkness had
+brought to the villages was busy cutting tiny sections from the lumps on
+the men's necks, while Chris ran them through the microscope to make
+sure the bugs were still alive. The regular optical mike was strong
+enough for that.
+
+Doc handed each man a bracky weed, with instructions to keep smoking, no
+matter how sick it made him.
+
+There were no results at the end of ten minutes when the first test was
+made. The second, at the end of twenty minutes, was still infected with
+live bugs. At the half-hour, Chris frowned.
+
+"I can't be sure--take a look, Dan."
+
+He bent over, moving the slide to examine another spot. "I think so. The
+next one should tell."
+
+There was no doubt about the fourth test. The bugs were dead, without a
+single exception that they could find.
+
+One by one, the men were tested and went storming out, shouting the
+news. For a minute, the gathering crowd was skeptical, remembering the
+other failures. Then, abruptly, men were screaming, crying and fighting
+for the precious bracky, like the legions of the damned grabbing for
+lottery tickets when the prize was a passport to paradise.
+
+Jake swore as he moved toward the door. "We're low on bracky here. Have
+to get a supply from Edison, I guess, and cart it to the shuttle. Enough
+for a sample, and to make them want more. It'll be tough, but we'll get
+it there in time--by the time the shuttle should be picking you up. Doc,
+you've won our war! From now on, if Earth wants to keep her population
+up, we'll be a free planet!"
+
+Chris turned slowly from the microscope, holding a slide in her hands.
+"My bugs," she said unbelievingly. "Dan, they're dead!"
+
+Jake patted her shoulder. "That makes it perfect, girl. Now come on.
+We've got to start celebrating a victory!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was the general feeling of most of the heads of the villages when
+they met the next day in Southport, using the courtroom that had been
+presided over so long by Judge Ben Wilson. It was victory, and to the
+victor belonged the spoils. The bracky had gone out to Earth on a
+converted war rocket that could make the trip in less than two weeks,
+and one packet had been specially labeled for Captain Everts. But Earth
+had already confirmed the cure. The small amounts of the herb found in
+the botanical collections had been enough to satisfy all doubts.
+
+Harkness, Chris and Doc had been fighting against the desire to rob
+Earth blind that filled most of the men here for hours now. Now they had
+the backing of Jake and Ben Wilson. And now finally they leaned back,
+sensing that the argument had been won.
+
+Bargaining was all right in its place, but it had no place in affairs of
+life and death such as this. They had to see that Earth received all the
+bracky she needed. It was only right to charge a fair price for it, but
+they couldn't restrict it by withholding or overcharging. And they could
+still gain their ends without blackmail.
+
+Martian alkaloids were tricky things, and bracky smoke contained a
+number of them. It would take Earth at least ten years to discover and
+synthesize the right one--and it would still probably cost more than it
+would to import the weed from Mars. As long as the source of that weed
+was here, and in the hands of the colonials, there would be no danger of
+Earth's bombing the planet.
+
+Harkness got up to underscore a point Wilson had made. "The plague lived
+a million years, and it won't disappear now. The jumping headache, or
+Selznick's migraine, is unpleasant enough to make us reasonably sure
+that there will be a steady consumption of the weed. Our problem will be
+to keep the children from using too much of it, probably." He pulled a
+weed out and lighted it, puckering his face as the smoke bit his
+tongue. "I'm told that this gets to be an enjoyable habit. If I can
+believe that, surely you can believe me when I say we don't have to
+bargain with lives."
+
+The village men were human, and most of them could remember the strain
+they had been under when they expected those they loved to die at any
+hour. It had made them crave vengeance, but now as they had a chance to
+reexamine it, they began to find it harder to impose the horror of any
+such threat on others. The final vote was almost unanimous.
+
+Doc listened as they wrangled over the wording of the message to Earth,
+feeling disconnected from it. He passed Chris a bracky and lighted it
+for her. She took it automatically, smiling as the smoke hit her lungs.
+It was one thing they had in common now, at least.
+
+Ben Wilson finally read the message.
+
+"To the people of Earth, greetings!
+
+"On behalf of the free people of Mars, I have the honor to announce that
+this planet hereby declares itself a sovereign and independent world. We
+shall continue to regard Earth as our mother, and to consider the health
+and welfare of her people in no way second to our own in matters which
+affect both planets. We trust that Earth will share this feeling of
+mutual friendship. We trust that all strains of hostility will be ended.
+The advantages to each from peaceful commerce make any course other than
+the most cordial of relations unthinkable.
+
+"We shall consider proof of such friendship an order by Earth to all
+rockets circling this planet that they shall deliver themselves safely
+into our hands, in order that we may begin converting them to peaceful
+purposes for the trade that is to come. In turn, we pledge that all
+efforts will be made to ensure a prompt delivery of those products most
+in demand, including the curative bracky plant."
+
+He turned to Doc then. "You want to sign it, Dr. Feldman? Make it as
+acting president or something, until we can get around to voting you
+into permanent office."
+
+"You and Jake fight over the job," Doc told him. "No, Ben, I mean it."
+
+He got up and moved out into the outer room, where he could avoid the
+stares of amazement that were turned to him. He'd never asked for the
+honor, and he didn't want it.
+
+Chris came with him. Her face was shocked and something was slowly
+draining out of it as he looked at her.
+
+"Forget it, Chris," he said. "You're going back to Earth. There is
+nothing for you here."
+
+She hadn't quite given up. "There could be, Dan. You know that."
+
+"No. No, Chris, I don't think there ever can be. You can't find a man
+strong enough to rule who'll be weak enough to let you rule in his
+place. It didn't work on Earth, and it won't work here. Forget the
+dreams you had of what could be done with a new planet. Those are the
+dreams that made a mess of the old one."
+
+"I'll be back," she told him. "Some day I'll be back."
+
+He shook his head again. "No. You wouldn't like what you find here.
+Freedom is heady stuff, but you have to have a taste for it. You can't
+acquire a fondness for it secondhand. And for a while, there's going to
+be freedom here. Besides, once you get back to Earth, you'll forget what
+happened here."
+
+She sighed at last. For the first time since he had known her, she
+seemed to give in completely. And for that brief moment, he loved what
+she could have been, but never would be.
+
+"All right, Dan," she said quietly. "I can't fight you. I never could, I
+see now. I'll take the rocket back. What are you going to do?"
+
+He hadn't bothered to think, but he knew the answer. "Research. What
+else?"
+
+There would be a lot of research done here. It had been suppressed too
+long, and had piled up a back-pressure that would have to be relieved.
+And from that research, he suspected, would come the end of the stable
+oligarchy of Earth. It could never stand against the changes that would
+be pouring out of Mars.
+
+She put her hands on his shoulders and moved forward to kiss him. He
+bent down to meet her, and found her eyes were wet. Maybe his were, too.
+Then she broke free.
+
+"You're a fool, Dan Feldman," she whispered, and began moving down the
+hallway and out of the council hall of Mars.
+
+Doc Feldman nodded slowly as he let her go. He was a fool. He had always
+been a fool, and always would be. And that was why he could never take
+over leadership here. Fools and idealists should never govern a world.
+It took practical men such as Jake to do that.
+
+But the practical men needed the foolish idealists, too. And maybe for a
+time here on Mars their kind of men and his kind of fools could make one
+more stab at the ancient puzzle of freedom.
+
+Outside the war rockets of Earth began landing quietly on the free soil
+of Mars.
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: The following errors in the original have been
+corrected in this version:
+
+Page 5: 'and there was' to 'and there were'
+
+Page 9: 'ideopathic gastroentiritis' to 'idiopathic gastroenteritis'
+
+Page 29: 'The cheapness of snythetics' to 'The cheapness of synthetics'
+
+Page 42: 'huband's' to 'husband's'
+
+Page 43: 'Southpost' to 'Southport'
+
+Page 47: 'laywer' to 'lawyer'
+
+Page 50: 'in a can' to 'to a can'
+
+Page 118: 'Selnick's' to 'Selznick's'
+
+]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+ANDRE NORTON
+
+051615 #Beast Master# 75c
+
+092668 #Catseye# 75c
+
+123117 #The Crossroads of Time# 60c
+
+137950 #Dark Piper# 60c
+
+139923 #Daybreak, 2250 A.D.# 75c
+
+142323 #Defiant Agents# 75c
+
+166694 #Dread Companion# 75c
+
+223651 #Exiles of the Stars# 95c
+
+272260 #Galactic Derelict# 75c
+
+337014 #High Sorcery# 75c
+
+354217 #Huon of the Horn# 60c
+
+358408 #Ice Crown# 75c
+
+415513 #Judgment on Janus# 75c
+
+436725 #Key Out of Time# 75c
+
+471615 #The Last Planet# 60c
+
+492363 #Lord of Thunder# 75c
+
+541011 #Moon of Three Rings# 75c
+
+577510 #Night of Masks# 60c
+
+634105 #Operation Time Search# 60c
+
+638213 #Ordeal In Otherwhere# 60c
+
+668319 #Plague Ship# 60c
+
+675553 #Postmarked the Stars# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                24C
+
+
+ANDRE NORTON
+
+696823 #Quest Crosstime# 75c
+
+749812 #Sargasso of Space# 75c
+
+756957 #Sea Siege# 75c
+
+758318 #Secret of the Lost Race# 75c
+
+759910 #Shadow Hawk# 75c
+
+768010 #The Sioux Spaceman# 60c
+
+775510 #Sorceress of Witch World# 75c
+
+780114 #Star Born# 75c
+
+780718 #Star Gate# 60c
+
+781914 #Star Hunter & Voodoo Planet# 60c
+
+784314 #The Stars Are Ours# 75c
+
+787416 #Storm over Warlock# 60c
+
+808014 #Three Against the Witch World# 75c
+
+812511 #The Time Traders# 60c
+
+840009 #Unchartered Stars# 75c
+
+873190 #Warlock of the Witch World# 60c
+
+878710 #Web of the Witch World# 75c
+
+897017 #Witch World# 60c
+
+925511 #The X Factor# 75c
+
+942516 #Year of the Unicorn# 60c
+
+959619 #The Zero Stone# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                25B
+
+
+Don't miss these exciting adventures of
+
+#PERRY RHODAN#
+
+Just 75c Each
+
+659938 #Perry Rhodan #1#
+#Enterprise Stardust# Scheer & Ernsting
+
+659946 #Perry Rhodan #2#
+#The Radiant Dome# Scheer & Ernsting
+
+659953 #Perry Rhodan #3#
+#Galactic Alarm# Mahr & Shols
+
+659961 #Perry Rhodan #4#
+#Invasion from Space# Ernsting & Mahr
+
+659979 #Perry Rhodan #5#
+#The Vega Sector# Scheer & Mahr
+
+659987 #Perry Rhodan #6#
+#Secret of the Time Vault# Darlton
+
+659995 #Perry Rhodan #7#
+#Fortress of the Six Moons# Scheer
+
+660001 #Perry Rhodan #8#
+#The Galactic Riddle# Darlton
+
+659789 #Perry Rhodan #9#
+#Quest through Space and Time# Darlton
+
+660027 #Perry Rhodan #10#
+#The Ghosts of Gol# Mahr
+
+659805 #Perry Rhodan #11#
+#Planet of the Dying Sun# Mahr
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                32A
+
+
+Don't miss these exciting adventures of
+
+#PERRY RHODAN#
+
+Just 75c Each
+
+659813 #Perry Rhodan #12#
+#Rebels of Tuglan# Darlton
+
+659821 #Perry Rhodan #13#
+#The Immortal Unknown# Darlton
+
+659839 #Perry Rhodan #14#
+#Venus in Danger# Mahr
+
+659847 #Perry Rhodan #15#
+#Escape To Venus# Mahr
+
+659862 #Perry Rhodan #16#
+#Secret Barrier X# Shols
+
+659870 #Perry Rhodan #17#
+#The Venus Trap# Mahr
+
+659888 #Perry Rhodan #18#
+#Menace of the Mutant Master# Mahr
+
+659904 #Perry Rhodan #19#
+#Mutants vs. Mutants# Darlton
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                31B
+
+
+Great Science Fiction Collections
+
+054551 #The Best from Fantasy and SF 16th Series# 95c
+
+054569 #The Best from Fantasy and SF 17th Series# 95c
+
+054577 #The Best from Fantasy and SF 18th Series# 75c
+
+206706 #England Swings SF# $1.25
+
+363317 #The Second "If" Reader# 95c
+
+572701 #New Worlds of Fantasy# 75c
+
+572719 #New Worlds of Fantasy 2# 75c
+
+572727 #New Worlds of Fantasy 3# 75c
+
+629402 #On Our Way to the Future# 75c
+
+806992 #This Side of Infinity# 75c
+
+846006 #Universe 1# 75c
+
+846014 #Universe 2# 95c
+
+913533 #World's Best 1st Series# 95c
+
+913541 #World's Best 2nd Series# 95c
+
+913558 #World's Best 3rd Series# 95c
+
+913566 #World's Best 4th Series# 95c
+
+913525 #World's Best Science Fiction 1969# 95c
+
+913574 #World's Best Science Fiction 1970# 95c
+
+913582 #World's Best Science Fiction 1971# 95c
+
+913590 #Best Science Fiction for 1972# 95c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+      *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.                12-72-34A
+
+
+Frank Herbert
+
+172619 #Dune# $1.25
+
+302612 #Green Brain# 60c
+
+909267 #The Worlds of Frank Herbert# 95c
+
+
+URSULA LEGUIN
+
+107011 #City of Illusion# 60c
+
+478008 #Left Hand of Darkness# 95c
+
+732917 #Rocannon's World# 75c
+
+
+Samuel R. Delany
+
+045914 #Babel 17# 60c
+
+047225 #Ballad of Beta 2# 60c
+
+196816 #Einstein Intersection# 75c
+
+226415 #Fall of the Towers# $1.25
+
+390211 #Jewels of Aptor# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.       12-72-35B
+
+
+A. E. Van Vogt
+
+048603 #The Battle of Forever# 95c
+
+104109 #Children of Tomorrow# 95c
+
+137984 #Darkness on Diamondia# 95c
+
+228114 #The Far Out Worlds of A. E. Van Vogt# 75c
+
+697003 #Quest For the Future# 95c
+
+765008 #The Silkie# 60c
+
+871814 #The War Against the Rulls# $1.25
+
+878553 #The Weapon Shops of Isher# 60c
+
+
+JOHN BRUNNER
+
+033001 #The Atlantic Abomination# 60c
+
+166686 #Dramaturges of Yan# 75c
+
+381210 #Jagged Orbit# $1.25
+
+524009 #Meeting at Infinity# 60c
+
+812701 #Times Without Number# 60c
+
+822106 #Traveler in Black# 75c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.        36A
+
+
+11
+
+NOVELS BY
+
+ROBERT A. HEINLEIN
+
+
+055004 #Between Planets# 95c
+
+106005 #Citizen of the Galaxy# 95c
+
+318006 #Have Space Suit Will Travel# 95c
+
+711408 #Red Planet# 95c
+
+733303 #Rocket Ship Galileo# 95c
+
+734400 #The Rolling Stones# 95c
+
+777300 #Space Cadet# 95c
+
+780007 #The Star Beast# 95c
+
+811257 #Time for the Stars# 95c
+
+826602 #Tunnel in the Sky# 95c
+
+915025 #The Worlds of Robert A. Heinlein# 95c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         17B
+
+
+EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
+
+Just 75c each
+
+033218 #At the Earth's Core#
+
+046326 #Back to the Stone Age#
+
+056523 #Beyond the Farthest Star#
+
+218024 #Eternal Savages#
+
+469973 #Land of Terror#
+
+470120 #Land of Hidden Men#
+
+514026 #The Mad King#
+
+535880 #Monster Men#
+
+645101 #Outlaw of Torn#
+
+658526 #Pellucidar#
+
+659425 #People That Time Forgot#
+
+751321 #Savage Pellucidar#
+
+797928 #Tanar of Pellucidar#
+
+901918 #The Wizard of Venus#
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         15A
+
+
+The World's Best Award-Winning Science Fiction Comes from Ace
+
+029363 #Armageddon 2419 A.D.# Nowlan 75c
+
+061770 #The Big Show# Laumer 75c
+
+067017 #The Black Star Passes# Campbell 75c
+
+371005 #Interplanetary Hunter# Barnes 95c
+
+516559 #Falling Astronauts# Malzberg 75c
+
+531517 #The Mightiest Machine# Campbell 95c
+
+535708 #The Missionaries# Compton 75c
+
+623801 #The Omega Point# Zebrowski 75c
+
+642405 #Other Days, Other Eyes# Shaw 95c
+
+734384 #Roller Coaster World# Bulmer 75c
+
+951467 #You're All Alone# Leiber 95c
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.        11-72-14C
+
+
+ACE SCIENCE FICTION DOUBLES
+
+Two books back-to-back
+
+Just 95c each
+
+009902 #Against Arcturus# Putney
+#Time Thieves# Koontz
+
+066126 #Blackman's Burden# Reynolds
+#Border, Breed Nor Birth# Reynolds
+
+102939 #The Chariots of Ra# Bulmer
+#Earth Strings# Rackham
+
+114512 #In the Alternate Universe# Chandler
+#Into the Coils of Time# Chandler
+
+775254 #Son of the Tree# Vance
+#House of Iszm# Vance
+
+156976 #The Unteleported Man# Dick
+#Dr. Futurity# Dick
+
+158907 #Door Through Space# Bradley
+#Rendezvous on a Lost World# Chandler
+
+166405 #Dragon Master#
+#Five Gold Bands# Vance
+
+317552 #The Hard Way Up# Chandler
+#Veiled World# Lory
+
+337105 #Highwood# Barrett
+#Annihilation Factor# Bayley
+
+370627 #The Inheritors# Chandler
+#The Gateway to Never# Chandler
+
+665257 #Pirates of Zan# Leinster
+#Mutant Weapon# Leinster
+
+799759 #Technos#
+#A Scatter of Sardust# Tubb
+
+_#Available wherever paperbacks are sold or use this coupon.#_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+#ace books#, (Dept. MM) Box 576, Times Square Station
+New York, N.Y. 10036
+
+Please send me titles checked above.
+
+I enclose $__________________Add 15c handling fee per copy.
+
+Name_________________________________________________
+
+Address______________________________________________
+
+City____________________State_____________Zip________
+
+Please allow 4 weeks for delivery.         12-72-8C
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Badge of Infamy, by Lester del Rey
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BADGE OF INFAMY ***
+
+***** This file should be named 19471.txt or 19471.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        http://www.gutenberg.org/1/9/4/7/19471/
+
+Produced by Susan Skinner, Greg Weeks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+http://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+http://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at http://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit http://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations.
+To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     http://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
diff --git a/19471.zip b/19471.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..df03401
--- /dev/null
+++ b/19471.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ada8fcf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #19471 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/19471)