The _Star Queen_ floated in space among a thousand thousand million
stars. Her astrogators had computed a course to the nearest star into
which to drive the _Star Queen_, but it would not be used unless there
was mutiny among the crew. It would be better to go in remote orbit
around Circe III and give the news of chlorophage on Altaira, if Doctor
Nordenfeld reported it on the ship.
Time passed. One day. Two. Three. Then Jensen called the hospital
compartment on vision-phone. His expression was dazed. Nordenfeld saw
the interior of the control room behind Jensen. He said, "You're a
passenger, Jensen. How is it you're in the control room?"
Jensen moistened his lips. "The skipper thought I'd better not
associate with the other passengers. I've stayed with the officers the
past few days. We--the ones who know what's in prospect--we're keeping
separate from the others so--nobody will let anything out by accident."
"Very wise. When the skipper comes back on duty, ask him to call me.
I've something interesting to tell him."
"He's--checking something now," said Jensen. His voice was thin and
reedy. "The--air officer reports there are white patches on the plants
in the air room. They're growing. Fast. He told me to tell you.
He's--gone to make sure."
"No need," said Nordenfeld bitterly.
He swung the vision-screen. It faced that part of the hospital space
beyond the plastic sheeting. There were potted flowering plants there.
They had pleased Kathy. They shared her air. And there were white
patches on their leaves.
"I thought," said Nordenfeld with an odd mirthless levity, "that the
skipper'd be interested. It is of no importance whatever now, but
I accomplished something remarkable. Kathy's father didn't manage
an aseptic transfer. She brought the chlorophage with her. But I
confined it. The plants on the far side of that plastic sheet show the
chlorophage patches plainly. I expect Kathy to show signs of anemia
shortly. I'd decided that drastic measures would have to be taken,
and it looked like they might work, because I've confined the virus.
It's there where Kathy is, but it isn't where I am. All the botanical
specimens on my side of the sheet are untouched. The phage hasn't hit
them. It is remarkable. But it doesn't matter a damn if the air room's
infected. And I was so proud!"
Jensen did not respond.
* * * * *
Nordenfeld said ironically, "Look what I accomplished! I protected
the air plants on my side See? They're beautifully green! No sign of
infection! It means that a man can work with chlorophage! A laboratory
ship could land on Kamerun and keep itself the equivalent of an
aseptic-environment room while the damned chlorophage was investigated
and ultimately whipped! And it doesn't matter!"
Jensen said numbly, "We can't ever make port. We ought--we ought to--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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