"I found a few," she said. "Over in a Virginia hospital." "But I did find," Andy said, flipping through pages of his own scrawl, "a society matron and her social secretary, a whole flock of office workers--business, not government--and new parents and newly engaged girls and...." He shrugged. "Did you notice anything significant about those office workers?" Andy nodded. "I was going to ask you the same, since I was just guessing. I hadn't had time to check it out." "Well, I checked some. Practically none of my victims came from big offices, either business or industry. They were all out of one and two-girl offices or small businesses." "That was my guess. And do you know that I didn't find a doctor, dentist or attorney?" "Nor a single postal worker." Andy tried to smile. "One thing we do know. It's not a communicable thing. Thank heaven for--" He broke off as a cute blonde entered and put stacks of reports before both Andy and Bettijean. The girl hesitated, fidgeting, fingers to her teeth. Then, without speaking, she hurried out. Andy stared at the top sheet and groaned. "This may be something. Half the adult population of Aspen, Colorado, is down." "What?" Bettijean frowned over the report in her hands. "It's the same thing--only not quite as severe--in Taos and Santa Fe, New Mexico." "Writers?" "Mostly. Some artists, too, and musicians. And poets are among the hard hit." "This is insane," Andy muttered. "Doctors and dentists are fine--writers and poets are sick. Make sense out of that." Bettijean held up a paper and managed a confused smile. "Here's a country doctor in Tennessee. He doesn't even know what it's all about. Nobody's sick in his valley." "Somebody in our outer office is organized," Andy said, pulling at his cigarette. "Here're reports from a dozen military installations all lumped together." "What does it show?" "Black-out. By order of somebody higher up--no medical releases. Must mean they've got it." He scratched the growing stubble on his chin. "If this were a fifth column setup, wouldn't the armed forces be the first hit?" "Sure," Bettijean brightened, then sobered. "Maybe not. The brass could keep it secret if an epidemic hit an army camp. And they could slap a control condition on any military area. But the panic will come from the general public." "Here's another batch," Andy said. "Small college towns under twenty-five thousand population. All hard hit." "Well, it's not split intellectually. Small colleges and small offices and writers get it. Doctors don't and dentists don't. But we can't tell who's got it on the military bases." "And it's not geographical. Look, remember those two reports from Tennessee? That place where they voted on water bonds or something, everybody had it. But the country doctor in another section hadn't even heard of it." Andy could only shake his head.