microscope. He examined the dried glass plates fromthe vacuum drier. The fractionator turned itself off and he focused onand studied the slide it yielded. He inspected a sample of the dusthe'd gotten from the garments that had been sprayed at the south gate.The dust contained common dust particles and pollen particles andthread particles and all sorts of microscopic debris. But throughoutall the sample he saw certain infinitely tiny crystals. They were toosmall to be seen separately by the naked eye, but they had a definitecrystalline form. And the kind of crystals a substance makes are nottoo specific about what the substance is, but they tell a great dealabout what it cannot be. In the fractionator slide he could get moreinformation--the rate-of-diffusion of a substance in solution ruledout all but a certain number of compounds that it could be. The twoitems together gave a definite clue.
Another voice from the speaker:
"_Headquarters! Paras are massing by the north gate! They act ugly!They're trying to force their way into Government Center! We'll haveto start shooting if we're to stop them! What are our orders?_"
The grid operator said dully:
"They'll wreck everything. I don't want to live because I'm a para,but I haven't acted like one yet. Not yet! But they have! So theydon't want to be cured! They'd never forget what they've done. They'dbe ashamed!"
Calhoun punched keys on a very small computer. He'd gotten anindex-of-refraction reading on crystals too small to be seen exceptthrough a microscope. That information, plus specific gravity, pluscrystalline form, plus rate of diffusion in a fractionator, went tothe stores of information in the computer's memory banks somewherebetween the ship's living quarters and its outer skin.
A voice boomed from another speaker, tuned to public-broadcastfrequency:
"_My fellow-citizens, I appeal to you to be calm! I beg you to bepatient! Practice the self-control that citizens owe to themselves andtheir world, I appeal to you...._"
Outside in the starlight the Med Ship rested peacefully on the ground.Around and above it the grid rose like geometric fantasy to veil mostof the starry sky. Here in the starlight the ground-car communicatorsgave out the same voice. The same message. The President of TallienThree made a speech. Earlier, he'd made another. Earlier still he'dtaken orders from the man who was already absolute master of thepopulation of this planet.
Police stood uneasy guard about the Med Ship because they could notenter it. Some of their number who had entered the control buildingnow stood shivering outside it, unable to force themselves insideagain. There was a vast, detached stillness about the spaceport. Itseemed the more unearthly because of the thin music of wind in thelanding grid's upper levels.
At the horizon there was a faint glow. Street lights still burned inthe planet's capitol city, but though buildings rose against the skyno lights burned in them. It was not wise for anybody to burn lightsthat could be seen outside their dwellings. There were police, to besure. But they were all in Government Center, marshaled there to tryto hold a perimeter formed by bricked-up apartment buildings. But mostof the city was dark and terribly empty save for mobs of all sizes butall raging. Nine-tenths of the city was at the mercy of the paras.Families darkened their homes and, terrified, hid in corners and inclosets, listening for outcries or the thunderous tramping of madmenat their doors.
In the Med Ship the loud-speaker went on:
"_I have told you,_" said the rounded tones of the PlanetaryPresident--but his voice shook, "_I have told you that Dr. Lett hasperfected and is making a vaccine which will protect every citizen andcure every para. You must believe me, my fellow-citizens. You mustbelieve me! To paras, I promise that their fellows who were notafflicted with the same condition will forget! I promise that no onewill remember what... what has been done in delirium! What has takenplace--and there have been tragedies--will be blotted out. Only bepatient now! Only...._"
* * * * *
Calhoun went over his glass slides again while the computer stoodmotionless, apparently without life. But he had called for it to find,in its memory banks, an organic compound of such-and-such acrystalline form, such-and-such a diffusion rate, such-and-such aspecific gravity, and such-an-such a refractive index. Men no longerconsidered that there was any effective limit to the number of organiccompounds that were possible. The old guess at half a milliondifferent substances was long exceeded. It took time even for acomputer to search all its microfilmed memories for a compound such asCalhoun had described.
He paced restlessly while the computer consulted its memory with faintwhirrings of cooling blowers, and occasional chucklings as memorycubes full of exceedingly complex stereomolecules of recordedinformation were searched.
"Maybe," Calhoun said, "this isn't so much a new disease as amodification of a very old one. The very ancient Hate Disease--for themost important symptom of this particular malady is the hate it'sstirred up. I've seen a number of sick planets--but the hate index onthis one earns it a record score." He paused for a moment as thecomputer did an extra-special burping chuckle, and slipped in anentire new case of memory cubes. "Hm-m-m ... if what we're looking foris a vaccine against hate we'd really have something.
"But I'm afraid not. That's too happy an outcome. We'll just call thisHate Disease, Tallien Three strain. It's standard practice," Calhouncontinued, "to consider that everything that can happen, does.Specifically, that any compound that can possibly exist, sooner orlater must be formed in nature. We're looking for a particular one. Itmust have been formed naturally at some time or another, but neverbefore has it appeared in quantity enough to threaten a civilization.Why?"
Murgatroyd licked his right-hand whiskers. He whimpered a little--andMurgatroyd was a very cheerful small animal, possessed of exuberanthealth and a fine zest in simply being alive. Exposed to contagion, itwas the admirable talent of his kind to react instantly and violently,producing antibodies so promptly that no conceivable disease coulddevelop. _Tormals_ were cherished and respected members of theInterstellar Medical Service because they could produce within hoursantibodies for any possible infection, and the synthesis of suchantibodies could be begun and any possible plague defeated. ButMurgatroyd was not happy now.
"It's been known for a long time," said Calhoun impatiently, "that noform exists alone. Every living creature exists in an environment, inassociation with all the other living creatures around it. But this istrue of compounds, too! Anything that is part of an environment isessential to that environment. So even organic compounds are as muchparts of a planetary life system as ... say ... rabbits on a Terrantype world. If there are no predators, rabbits will multiply untilthey starve."
Murgatroyd said, "_Chee!_" as if complaining to himself.
"Rats," said Calhoun somehow angrily, "have been known to do that on aderelict ship. There was a man named Malthus who said we humans wouldsome day do the same thing. But we haven't. We've take over a galaxy.If we ever crowd this, there are more galaxies for us to colonize,forever! But there have been cases of rats and rabbits multiplyingpast endurance. Here we've got an organic molecule that has multipliedout of all reason! It's normal for it to exist, but in a normalenvironment it's held in check by other molecules which in some sensefeed on it; which control the population of this kind of molecule asrabbits or rats are controlled in a larger environment. But the checkon this molecule isn't working, here!"
* * * * *
The booming voice of the Planetary President went on and on and on.Memoranda of events taking place were handed to him, and he read themand argued with the paras who had tried to rush the north gate ofGovernment Center, to make its inhabitants paras like themselves. Butthe Planetary President tried to make oratory a weapon againstmadness.
Calhoun grimaced at the voice. He said fretfully:
"There's a molecule which has to exist because it can. It's a part ofa normal environment, but it doesn't normally produce paras. Now itdoes! Why? What is the compound or the condition that controls itsabundance? Why is it missing here? W
hat is lacking? What?"
The police-frequency speaker suddenly rattled, as if someone shoutedinto a microphone.
"_All police cars! Paras have broken through a building wall on thewest side! They're pouring into the Center! All cars rush! Setblasters at full power and use them! Drive them back or kill them!_"
The grid operator turned angry, bitter eyes upon Calhoun.
"The paras--we paras!--don't want to be cured!" he said fiercely. "Who'dwant to be normal again and remember when he ate scavengers? I haven'tyet, but--who'd be able to talk to a man he knew had devoured ...devoured--" The grid operator swallowed. "We paras want everybody to belike us, so we can endure being what we are!
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