Hallam came in, in his pajamas. A light sleeper, he must have been disturbed by my heavy-footed entrance. He looked at us and his eyes puckered as he tried to see clearly without his glasses. "John's been hurt, sir, but not badly," Pat said swiftly. "He'll tell you all about it in a minute. Let him recover a bit." Without a word the Chief went to his room and came back. He had added a gown and glasses to his pajamas. He walked over to me and I showed him the goose egg on my head. He checked it and then looked at my eyes. Satisfied, he said his first words. "Were you knocked out?" "No sir, just dizzy. I think I'll be all right soon." "Well, you know what to do. Let me know if you need help." "I will." He took the coffee Pat handed him and sat down opposite me. "The bomb, Pat," I said. "You'd better take it now and get some cultures going." I took it out of my pocket and handed it to her. She reached for it and I thought she had it and let go. She fumbled. "Watch out!" I shouted in alarm, and grabbed for it. Either I startled her and she triggered it or my own hand struck the release. It doesn't matter now. A thin white stream of gas hissed out of the end and hit me squarely in the mouth. Pat stood there, rigid, the cursed thing still in her hands, and slowly her lips began to quiver and a big tear formed in the corner of her right eye. "John.... Oh, God! ... the virus!" "I'm afraid it is," I said quietly. I felt let down; finished; the same way I had when I watched the wounded die in the Aid Station and I couldn't help. Only this time I was the patient. Oh, I wasn't going to die, or even be very sick, but no man likes to think that he can never have a son to follow him, and I knew, beyond doubt, that in another week I'd be completely sterile. I'd never seen Pat cry before and it brought me out of my daze. I went to her and took her shoulders in my hands and there, right in front of the Chief I told her, "Darling, I can't kiss you now, but I want you to know I love you and this will make no difference at all. It wasn't your fault." She couldn't speak. I looked at Hallam. He sat there staring at the bomb in her hands. "I think I can guess what has happened," he said, "but how?" Quickly Pat sketched the story while I washed my face as well as I could. She finished and he stared into space. A few seconds later he put his big hands on the table and hunched to his feet. "We still have to analyze the contents of this thing to see what kind of virus is in it ... if there is. We might as well get started on the preliminaries. No sense in isolating ourselves any more. It's likely we'll all get the disease now." He looked at Pat's tear-stained face and said kindly, "Why don't you two go home for a rest before the day staff gets here. I can handle the beginning of this job myself." CHAPTER 6