Part 4 (1/2)

Minutes later they turned in from the corridor, went through another, shorter pa.s.sageway and then came to a door marked: Resident Surgeon.

They knocked and a deep voice boomed: ”Come in!”

It was a medium-sized room, clearly a dispensary. There was an operating table, a sterilizer, tall gla.s.s-fronted instrument cabinets and a refrigerator. At the far end of the room a hulking, bear-like man sat behind a magnalloy desk. The nameplate on the desk said: Hal H. Wilc.o.x, M.D.

”Howdy, gents,” said Dr. Hal H. Wilc.o.x, shattering the moon-silence with a vengeance. ”What can I do for you?” he was all smiles.

That smile, decided Pell, didn't quite match the shrewdness of his eyes.

Have to watch this boy, maybe. There was a big quartz window behind the man so that for the moment Pell saw him almost in silhouette. ”We're from _Current_ magazine,” said Pell. ”I'm d.i.c.k Pell and this is Steve Kronski. You got our radio, I guess.”

”Oh, yes. Yes, indeed.” Wilc.o.x creaked way back in his chair. ”You're the fellas want to do a story on us moon surgeons.”

”That's right.” Pell fumbled a little self-consciously with the gravity weights clipped to his trousers. Took a while for moon visitors to get used to them, everybody said.

”Well, I don't know exactly as how there's much of a story in what we do. We're just a bunch of sawbones stationed here, that's all.”

”We're interested in the diseases peculiar to the moon,” said Pell. ”For instance, why do the permanent residents up here have to have an inoculation every year?”

”That's for the Venusian rash. Thought everybody knew that.”

”Venusian rash?”

”Nearest thing we ever had to it on Earth was Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever. It's a rickettsia disease. Makes a fella pretty sick; sometimes kills him in two, three days. It started when they had those Venusian construction workers and tunnel men here, oh, long before the war. Under certain conditions the rickettsia stays dormant and then pops up again.”

”And the inoculation's for that?”

”Standard. Once a year. You got the inoculation yourself, no doubt, before you jumped off for the moon.”

”Where does the serum or whatever you call it come from?”

Pell thought he saw Wilc.o.x's eyes flicker. The doctor said, ”It's stored at the main landings. We draw it as we need it from there.”

”Have any here now?”

Wilc.o.x's eyes did move this time. He looked at the refrigerator--but only for the veriest moment. ”Don't really reckon so,” he said finally.

He was staring blankly at Pell again.

Pell patted his pockets, turned to Kronski and said, ”You know, I think we're out of cigarettes.” Before Kronski could answer he moved to the big quartz window behind Wilc.o.x's desk. He gazed at the moonscape. ”Just can't get over how big and quiet it is,” he said.

Wilc.o.x turned and gazed with him.

Kronski drew his freezer. He pointed it, squeezed, and there was a soft, momentary buzzing and a twinkling of violet sparks at the muzzle of the weapon.

Wilc.o.x sat where he was, frozen, knowing nothing.

Pell turned fast. ”Come on, Steve. Let's get it.” They both stepped to the refrigerator.

They had only seconds; Kronski's weapon had been set at a low reading.