"The next step is simple," he said, anticipating Stokely's question. "I make up a solution of antitoxin. There are hypodermics in the medical kit, which is in the control room. The doctor put the one we found up there in it, and I'm pretty sure I noticed a couple of others. Perhaps you will trust Evans to go get it, and in the meantime, I'll trouble you for about 30 carats of jade." "Thirty carats! That's enough for all three of us! We may not all be infected." "No--as a matter of fact the odds work out to be only a little better than 50-50 that we all have it. But we've all got to have the means of doing something about it if we find out--otherwise the plan won't work. "_If_ we find out!" Stokely echoed harshly. "Archer, you've stalled around long enough! What is this plan?" Archer looked at him in open disgust. "_You've_ stalled around long enough! There's only 20 more minutes until the three-and-a-half hour deadline. Let me get the stuff made and then we'll talk about it. Incidentally, 30 carats is less than the share you offered me--and also a lot less than I value my life. So you can figure the shots are on me." With a reluctant grimace, Stokely removed the utility kit from his belt and poured out a small but dazzling cascade. Archer weighed several combinations of the smaller gems, and found one group of three which came to a little under six and a half grams or about 32 carats. Unceremoniously, he dumped them into a small beaker, and poured in a little alcohol. After a minute or so, they softened and dissolved. Archer added distilled water and stirred the solution gently. Evans returned from the control room and handed the medical kit to Archer, who took out the three hypodermics. Forcing himself to take great pains, he divided the solution among the three. "No time to sterilize these," he said. "Not that they should need it. Here is the one used by the dead man--I don't mind taking it, if anybody else does. This next one has a little more in it than the others. Stokely, you're the biggest, so--but suit yourself. Now let's get these suits off and get outside." "Why can't we wear the suits?" asked Evans. "It's freezing out there!" "Because they're opaque," said Archer patiently, "and the aura is so faint that your cranium alone probably wouldn't give off enough to be visible. Personally, I'm going to strip to the waist. I'd be inclined to strip further, if it weren't for the fact that some of those crawling things out there are about as deadly as the virus." * * * * * In silence, the three men climbed down from the airlock, their flashlights cutting holes in the thick darkness. Faria was a moonless planet, and the hour was late. Under the watchful eye of Stokely, Archer walked clear of the retractable landing supports and shone his flashlight about the small level area in which the ship was fairly centered. He held the beam steady on an outcropping of rock about 40 feet away.