halted abruptly. It was only a
few of the little gnomes moving through the camp.

Gallifa quickly rummaged through the spare parts cache in the shack and
drove stout pegs into the door jamb and the door. Then he expertly wove
a short length of wire around the pegs and drew them tight with a pair
of wire nippers. He leaned a shoulder against the door until he was
satisfied it would hold. Then he returned to the hospital.

MacFarland met him at the back entrance. The five corpses still lay
shackled to the bunks in a mute and grisly reminder of how quickly
deterioration had spread through the embryonic colony. Gallifa felt his
jaw muscles tighten.

"The bio team stole all the weapons," MacFarland said without preamble.
"They've barricaded themselves in the mess hall and threaten to shoot
anyone who comes within ten feet of the door."

Gallifa waited, his expression somber.

"The other teams are mad clear through," MacFarland continued. "I
convinced them to go back to their own shacks, but I don't know how long
they will stay there."

Gallifa nodded. "If the other teams decide to rush the mess hall--" He
let the sentence trail off and grimly began to sort the micro-film.

A few hours later he had uncovered a series of very surprising--and
confusing--facts. He was amazed by the extent and completeness of the
data the teams and machines had assembled during their brief stay on the
planet. Gallifa closed his eyes and began to sift through the data with
the queer, persistent sixth sense of all true research men.

The field of biology isn't limited. It begins just under the crust of a
planet, encompasses the surface, and extends ... as far as needs be.
Gallifa was a good biologist. And now he had a series of incredible
facts at his command. He thought he had the answer to the epidemic. Only
if he was on the right track--and he was almost sure of it--the cure
might be so simple that it would be no cure at all.

How did you cure fear?

MacFarland was dozing across the room. Gallifa suddenly realized how
tired he really was. Perhaps the doctor could give him a stimulant. In
any case, he wanted to discuss an idea with Dr. Thorndyke. He stood up
and gathered together the papers lying scattered on the desk.

MacFarland was immediately awake. He held the axe loosely in one big
hand, but a slight tensing of the muscles in his forearm denoted his
readiness to use the weapon.

Gallifa noticed only that MacFarland was awake.