“Finished your probing, Doc?” Susan’s smile took any sting from the words. “I do believe that you won’t rest until I’m well and truly married. If you don’t promise to avoid the subject then I won’t have coffee with you again.” #301 | | |
“I promise,” said Thorpe quickly. His banter had served its purpose and now he got down to the real business. “Before you go, Susan,” he said casually, “just let me have a look at those hands of yours. A rash like that can develop into something quite painful.” #302 | | |
“It’s nothing,” she protested. “Probably an allergy symptom. It’ll clear up soon enough.” #303 | | |
“Maybe.” Thorpe squinted at the tiny flecks then went to fetch an instrument. He passed it over her hands, grunted, then reached for a jar of salve. “Rub this well in, wash in hot water after an hour and use more of this salve. Repeat the washing each hour until all itching vanishes. Got that?” #304 | | |
“I think so.” Susan made a face at the sight of the thick ointment but obediently rubbed it into her hands. “What is it, Doc?” #305 | | |
“Nothing serious, but it could be bothersome.” Thorpe glanced at his instrument and then back at the girl. “Tell me, Susan, did you handle the plants with your bare hands during the sterilisation?” #306 | | |
“No. I didn’t touch them at all. The labour squad cleared the tanks and took them to the incinerator.” #307 | | |
“I see. When you examined them, did you touch them with bare bands then?” #308 | | |
“The first time I examined them?” Susan frowned, pausing in her task of applying the salve. “Yes. Yes, I think I did. Why?” #309 | | |
“No reason.” Thorpe rose and picked up his instrument. “Do you happen to know where Jelkson is now?” #310 | | |
“He went over to see the Denebians,” said Susan. “Kenton asked him to go. He thought there might be a possibility that they had some seed and, as Jelkson is so friendly with them, he suggested that he ask for some.” #311 | | |
| | |
“He went into town to see Ransom.” Susan finished anointing her hands. “There! Satisfied?” #313 | | |
“So far, yes. Now wear gloves and don’t forget to wash in hot water every hour. Water as hot as you can bear and use plenty of salve afterwards. Call in tonight and I’ll have another look at them.” #314 | | |
“Yes, doctor,” she said primly. “Anything else, doctor?” #315 | | |
“Yes,” he said sternly. “I’ve got things to do now, so you can wash the cups and clean out the percolator for me.” He headed towards the door, halting on the threshold to look back at her. “And Susan, better make up your mind pretty fast, I’m still a bachelor, remember.” #316 | | |
He smiled wryly at the sound of her laughter. #317 | | |
| | |
Jelkson was curious as he followed Phorisci from the Director’s office into the heart of the Denebian hydroponic farm. While no great attempt was made at secrecy yet no open co-operation existed between the two farms. Visitors to either were usually entertained in the administration buildings, though there had, occasionally, been exchange visits of inspection. To invite a visitor to watch the sterilisation of a building was something that just didn’t normally happen. #319 | | |
Jelkson was intrigued and, his mind being as it was, he sought for explanation. #320 | | |
Friendship he immediately discounted. There could be no friendship, not as men understood the term, between alien races. Respect, yes. Friendship, no. The very difference of the thought processes of the races were against it. Customs, mores, differing points of valuation, all presented an insuperable barrier to the warm intimacy which friendship implied. So Jelkson, even as he smiled and chatted with his guide and host, was busy trying to solve the problem. #321 | | |
Phorisci could well have left him in the office to wait his return. He had done so on other occasions and Jelkson had expected to be asked to wait. Instead he had been invited on a tour of inspection, for that was what it amounted to. The obvious reason for such an invitation was to make sure that the office remained vacant. #322 | | |
Jelkson considered it, mulling over every facet of the problem, then reluctantly dismissed it. He could see no reason why a visitor, any visitor, should not know of his presence. #323 | | |
“The building to be sterilised is just over there,” said Phorisci. “We had a regrettable accident, an alien crop, Rigelian lank-weed, promised well and then developed virulent tumours. Our chemists say that wrong feeding was the cause but I dare not take any chances. Destruction and sterilisation is the only answer in such a case. Do you agree?” #324 | | |
“Certainly.” Jelkson looked with interest through the glass of the building. “I see that you have not yet cleared the tanks.” #325 | | |
“Not yet. First we sterilise and then, when the crop is dead, we clean out the building. You use different methods, perhaps?” #326 | | |
“Slightly different,” admitted Jelkson. “We remove and incinerate the crop before sterilisation.” He glanced at Phorisci. “Aren’t you afraid of the virus, if it is a virus, contaminating the next crop? I would think that the obvious thing to do would be to remove the infected growth first.” #327 | | |
“No. We sterilise it first. That prevents any danger of spreading the infection by confining it to this one building. If we were to remove the crop it would mean sterilisation of all matter which came into contact with it.” #328 | | |
“Of course, that is our biggest problem.” Jelkson saw no reason to be at all secretive about so important a subject. Phorisci smiled and shook his head. #329 | | |
“Our methods differ, my friend. We use direct radiation for sterilisation purposes. It has the advantage of destroying both crop and infection.” #330 | | |
“Direct radiation?” Jelkson looked thoughtful. “But isn’t that extremely dangerous?” #331 | | |
“Not very. There is some danger, naturally, but it is minor and the method is perfectly safe providing precautions are taken.” Phorisci called to a blue-skinned worker and took something from him. #332 | | |
“See? This is the cartridge we use.” He held out a small object a little like an old-time hand grenade. “Here is the fuse. Here is the safety device, remove it and the cartridge is primed. Here is the detonator. It can be set for any period up to five minutes, ample time for the operator to get out of range. Inside the casing there is a small quantity of unstable elements which, when detonated, disintegrate at a controlled rate of fission.” #333 | | |
“Neat.” Jelkson took the thing and examined it. “A miniature atomic bomb. I take it that the fission is controlled to below the violent level?” #334 | | |
“Naturally, we do not wish to destroy our buildings.” Phorisci took the object and handed it back to the worker. “Its sole purpose is to release a flood of gamma and other radiation utterly fatal to all animal and vegetable life. There are some secondary effects but they are minor. The building should be allowed to ‘cool’ for a few hours after use before entering, and for a period of several days before replanting.” #335 | | |
“To allow the artificial radioactivity to die away.” Jelkson nodded. “The greatest danger would be in handling the exposed vegetation but a great deal would depend on the radiation-tolerance of the race concerned. I believe that we have a higher tolerance than yourselves so, in fact, there would be less danger for us than for you.” He glanced to where the worker had disappeared into the building. “How great is the lethal range?” #336 | | |
“About fifty yards. The walls and roof of the building tend to shield the outside and, after the exposure, the secondary effects are quite local.” Phorisci looked up as the worker gestured from the door of the building. “We had better withdraw now. He is signalling that he is about to pull the release.” #337 | | |
Jelkson allowed himself to be led to a safe distance. He was interested in the Denebian’s sterilisation procedure and, when he compared it to his own, slow and tedious removal of crops and flame-searing of buildings, he could see immediate advantages. #338 | | |
“Now,” said Phorisci quietly, and, instinctively, Jelkson shielded his eyes. #339 | | |
“No need for that,” said the Director calmly. “Little of the energy is wasted in the visible spectrum.” He glanced at a chronometer attached to his left wrist. “There! It is over.” #340 | | |
“So soon?” Jelkson felt a vague sense of disappointment. He had expected something more spectacular. Phorisci must have guessed what he was thinking for, as he led the way through the buildings, he chuckled. #341 | | |
“The old methods were more of a show, I admit, but think of the work! To flame-burn every square millimetre and then not to be sure that sterilisation was complete. No, the new methods are far more reliable. In a few months there won’t be a farm using anything other than the method you have just seen.” #342 | | |
“This system is new then?” Jelkson halted by a building and casually glanced at the ranked plants just visible through the glass of the roof. “How new?” #343 | | |
“The factory sent me sample bombs a few weeks ago. We have used them perhaps twice.” Phorisci took Jelkson by the arm and continued his walk. “Normally I would hesitate to use them but the test reports were so reassuring that I felt I had no option. Labour, as you know, is always short and, with these cartridges, it will be possible to sterilise at every harvesting. It will be a comfort to know that no stray virus or mould will be able to attack the new planting.” #344 | | |
“A great comfort,” said Jelkson dryly. He remained silent during the rest of the conducted tour. #345 | | |
| | |
It was night and the two moons of Lubridgida hung like a pair of matched pearls in the cloudless sky. Kenton stared up at them, the smoke from his cigarette softening the thin lines of his features as they were reflected in the window before which he stood. Abruptly he turned and stared at the two men in his office. #347 | | |
“I still can’t believe it,” he said. “Jelkson, are you certain?” #348 | | |
“I saw it,” said the botanist. “I don’t think that Phorisci knew what he was doing. He gave me a conducted tour on the excuse that he wanted to show me how they sterilise their buildings. That was just an excuse. What he really wanted to prove was that they were not growing tobacco.” #349 | | |
“Are they?” King, fat, rumpled, his normally jovial features hard now and taut, stared at the little botanist. Jelkson shrugged. #350 | | |
