"Medical Emergency." At a small control panel in the corner was a large red button, precisely labeled. She considered it and picked up the control room phone. This was the hard part, telling someone, especially someone who had it--Max. She dialed, and when the click on the end of the line showed he had picked the phone up, she told Max what she had seen. "No women, just the men," he repeated. "That right?" "Yes." "Probably it's chemically alien, inhibited by one of the female sex hormones. We'll try sex hormone shots, if we have to. Where are you calling from?" She told him. "That's right. Give Nucleocat Cureall another chance. It might work this time. Push that button." She went to the panel and pushed the large red button. Through the long height of the _Explorer_, bells woke to life and began to ring in frightened clangor, emergency doors thumped shut, mechanical apparatus hummed into life and canned voices began to give rapid urgent directions. A plague had come. * * * * * She obeyed the mechanical orders, went out into the hall and walked in line with the others. The captain walked ahead of her and the gorgeous Shelia Davenport fell into step beside her. "I look like a positive hag this morning. Does that mean I'm sick? Are we all sick?" June shrugged, unwilling to say what she knew. Others came out of all rooms into the corridor, thickening the line. They could hear each room lock as the last person left it, and then, faintly, the hiss of disinfectant spray. Behind them, on the heels of the last person in line, segments of the ship slammed off and began to hiss. They wound down the spiral corridor until they reached the medical treatment section again, and there they waited in line. "It won't scar my arms, will it?" asked Shelia apprehensively, glancing at her smooth, lovely arms. The mechanical voice said, "Next. Step inside, please, and stand clear of the door." "Not a bit," June reassured Shelia, and stepped into the cubicle. Inside, she was directed from cubicle to cubicle and given the usual buffeting by sprays and radiation, had blood samples taken and was injected with Nucleocat and a series of other protectives. At last she was directed through another door into a tiny cubicle with a chair. "You are to wait here," commanded the recorded voice metallically. "In twenty minutes the door will unlock and you may then leave. All people now treated may visit all parts of the ship which have been protected. It is forbidden to visit any quarantined or unsterile part of the ship without permission from the medical officers." Presently the door unlocked and she emerged into bright lights again, feeling slightly battered. She was in the clinic. A few men sat on the edge of beds and looked sick. One was lying down. Brant and Bess St. Clair sat near each other, not speaking. Approaching her was George Barton, reading a thermometer with a puzzled expression.