Gallifa faced the assemblage. "We're going to inoculate everyone here. As soon as we're through, I want each team to go to their own shacks and stay there. If you _have_ to go somewhere, go in pairs. If you see anyone wandering around by himself, no matter _who_ he is, bang him over the head with something and bring him over to the hospital. Otherwise, stay put." The men received their shots in an uncomfortable silence and disappeared into the night. Gallifa, MacFarland, and Dr. Thorndyke remained in the Administration room. "Any idea what it is, doc?" MacFarland asked huskily. "I hardly had time to take care of the patients," Dr. Thorndyke replied bitterly. "Did you honestly expect me to find out what was wrong with them in a few short hours?" "But--" Gallifa began. MacFarland suddenly started, and leapt to his feet. The doctor moved away, his face paling. "What's the matter?" Gallifa asked, alarmed. "Don't be so old womanish," MacFarland snapped. "I'm not catching it. I just thought of something. Cummings had a gun. Where did he get it?" "The storeroom!" Gallifa exclaimed. "I'd forgotten we had weapons and ammo in the storeroom! If things got bad enough, we _could_ wipe ourselves out. We'd better check." "I'm going back to the hospital," Dr. Thorndyke said bluntly. "I'm going to lock the door. If anyone comes banging around he damn well had better know who he is and talk intelligently--or I'll slice him from his wishbone to his crotch." He stalked out. Gallifa stared blankly after Dr. Thorndyke. It was funny hearing him talk this way. He had always thought of the doc as being rather mild-mannered. Damned flexible, humans! VI They found the door was torn off the storeroom. It hadn't even been secured. Someone had just been in a terrific hurry. There wasn't a single weapon left. MacFarland studied the disarray, then thoughtfully hefted a broad-bladed pick axe. "I'm of the opinion," he said quietly, "that in a short time things are going to get a little rough around here." "Now wait a minute, Mac," Gallifa protested. "Sorry, boy," MacFarland said grimly. "If I knew everyone else was barehanded, I would go along with you. I may not be the next victim--or the tenth. I'll more than likely have to protect myself against someone who has come down with it, however, and I've got an overwhelming desire to stay alive." Gallifa let his hands drop helplessly to his sides. MacFarland was right, of course. They hadn't acted soon enough. Was this how panic was born? "Mac," Gallifa tried huskily. "We've got to keep our heads. If we don't, we'll destroy ourselves." "I'm open to any suggestions," MacFarland said steadily. "But until I'm satisfied that the danger is past, I'll just hang on to this axe." "Let's go back over to the hospital," Gallifa said wearily. "We'll use Thorndyke's projector and go over every inch of micro-film we have. We may be too close to the problem. There must be something we've overlooked."