The rest of the reports were routine. Some noted exposure to colds but none to mumps. The three unusual stories I dismissed as having no real connection with the epidemic. Aerosol sprays of all shapes and sizes are so common nowadays that they are used in every kind of commodity which can be packed that way. I know of no disease caused by the gases they contain unless it be allergy to the various insecticides and other chemicals spread by the gases. People often have peculiar ideas as to what starts a cold. The statisticians had run off the figures, including the odd possibilities, on the Minicalculator at the Department of Health and their report stated there was no significance in such stories. So I guess that settled that in this mathematically minded era. Sometimes I wish that medicine were the art it used to be instead of the statistical science it has become. But I never did like mathematics. Shortly after noon I gave up and strolled down to the Culture Room, looking for Pat. I found her busy with a dentist's drill, in the old fashioned way, cutting holes in the shells of fertilized eggs and transferring virus cultures from old eggs to new. Between the cap and mask only her cool grey eyes were visible, intent on the thin membranes that pulsated above the tiny heart of the young chicken. Her fingers were quick and sure as she injected the virus then released the opening with scotch tape, or sometimes with a glass coverslip, sealed around the edges with vaseline. Hallam wasn't too keen on the new short wave cutter and plastic film technique. When she paused for a moment to flame her needles I rapped on the glass partition to catch her attention and then made eating signs. She nodded and, a few minutes later, we sat over sandwiches and coffee in the hospital restaurant. "How did the morning go?" she said, finishing her sandwich and starting on a second cup of coffee. "The old man was needling me the way you needle those eggs of yours," I grumbled. "We don't have the private life of goldfish around here. The girls were hinting for information too." "What do you expect," she laughed. "After all, you're the most eligible bachelor in the place." I wandered over to the counter for a pack of Exports. The noon Sun was out and I saw the lead story. "Flu Epidemic Disorganizes Seattle, Tacoma, Portland." I bought the paper and went back to Pat. "We're not much ahead of the news hawks," was all she said. As we passed the front office, on the way back to Virology, Rosie waved at me. "Dr. Macdonald, you're wanted in the Conference Room right away. And you too, Pat! There's some sort of big pow-wow. Tissue Path., Biochem., Bacteriology, Public Health, and all the clinical services too!' "O.K. Thanks, Rosie," I said.