'So?'
'It's serious,' said Dr. Selmer. 'What that kid died of — it's really, genuinely serious.'
Dr. Petrie frowned. 'Did you finish the post-mortem?'
'We're still waiting for the last tests. But we've discovered enough to kick us straight in the teeth.'
'You mean it's not tularemia?'
'I wish it was. We found minor swellings in the joints and the groin area, and at first I thought they could have been symptoms of lymphogranuloma venereum, or some other kind of pyogenic infection. The kid had a lung condition, and we were working on the assumption that the swellings might have been associated with a general rundown of health brought on by influenza.' Adelaide looked questioningly across the room.
Prickles, busy with her doll's coiffure, didn't even notice. On the TV screen, the hero was mouthing something in garish colour, a million light-years away from disease and infection and nine-year-old boys who died overnight.
'Well,' said Dr. Petrie, 'what do you think it is?'
Dr. Selmer said evasively, 'We carried out a pretty thorough examination. We took slides from the spleen, the liver, the lymph nodes and bone marrow. We also took sputum samples and blood samples, and we did bacteriological tests on all of them.'
'What did you find?' asked Petrie quietly.
'A bacillus,' answered Dr. Selmer. 'A bacillus that was present in tremendous numbers, and of terrific virulence. A real red-hot terror.'
'Have you identified it?'
'We have some tentative theories.'
'What kind of tentative theories?'
Dr. Selmer's voice was hardly audible. 'Leonard,' he said, 'this bacillus appears to be a form of Pasteurella pestis.'
'What? What did you say?'
He could hardly believe what Anton Selmer had told him. He felt a strange crawling sensation all over his skin, and for the first time in his medical career he felt literally unclean. He had dealt with terminal cancer patients, tuberculosis patients, Spanish influenza and even typhoid. But this —
Adelaide, seeing his drawn face, said, 'Leonard — what is it?'
He hardly heard her. She came over and he held her hand.
In a dry voice, he said to Anton Selmer, 'Plague? Are you suggesting that it's plague?'
'I'm sorry, Leonard, but that's what it looks like. Only it's worse than plague. The bacterial samples we have here are not identical with any known profile of Pasteurella pestis. They certainly don't correspond with the 1920 records — which is the last time we had an outbreak of plague in Florida. The bacilli seem to have mutated or developed into something more virulent and faster-growing.'
Dr. Petrie looked at Prickles, squatting innocently in front of the television in her pink nightdress. Supposing he had picked it up himself, when he was carrying David Kelly? Supposing —
'Anton,' he said abruptly. 'Do you think I could have caught it?'
Dr. Selmer coughed. 'Right now,' he said, 'it's difficult for me to say. I'm still waiting for the sputum reports, and that will tell us whether the boy's throat and lungs were infected. You took the streptomycin shots, though, didn't you?'
'Sure. Right after you called me this morning.'
'Well, those should help. All antibiotics are useful in plague treatment. If you've come into contact with anyone for any length of time, I should make sure that they get shots too. I can get some serum flown in from the West Coast tonight, and we can all get ourselves vaccinated just in case.'
Dr. Petrie looked at Adelaide, and squeezed her hand reassuringly.
'Anton,' he said, 'what should I look for? What symptoms?'
'Leonard — I can't say. You'll just have to keep yourself under strict observation. If you have any swelling, or dizziness, or headache get in touch with me straight away. And cancel your clinic for three days. That's how long plague usually takes to develop.'
Dr. Petrie felt chilled. 'Anton,' he insisted, 'I have Adelaide and Priscilla with me. I had Esther around me all day. I went to a restaurant for lunch. And what about my patients?'
'I don't know, Leonard,' said Dr. Selmer tiredly. 'It depends on what kind of bacillus mutation we have here. Basically, plague comes in three recognized forms. There's bubonic plague, which is when you have buboes or swellings in the groin and axilla. Then there's pneumonic plague, when the bacilli are localized in the lungs — and septicemic plague, when the blood is infected.'
'And you don't know which one it is?'
'I'm not sure that it's any one of them. The way it looks right now, it could be a new strain of bacillus altogether. Some kind of super-plague.'
Dr. Petrie bit his lip. 'Do we know where the boy picked it up? Isn't it carried by fleas?'
Dr. Selmer sounded weary. 'I talked to the parents, but they say he went out all day Sunday, and he could have been any place at all. He visited some friends, and then went swimming, and then he came home.'
'How about the friends?'
'Oh, we're having them checked. The police are out now, tracking down the last of them. We're taking this very seriously, Leonard. I believe we have to.'
'Do you think he might have come into contact with an infected rat, or a squirrel?'
'It's possible,' agreed Dr. Selmer. 'They've had three or four outbreaks in California and Colorado recently, and it seems like a few people got bitten by fleas from infected ground squirrels. That might have happened here, but we can't tell. The way it's transmitted depends on what type of plague it is.'
'What do you mean?'
'Well, bubonic plague is mostly carried by fleas which have bitten plague-ridden rodents, and then accidentally bite people. It isn't a human disease at all, and humans only get caught up in the cycle by mistake. But that doesn't make it any less fatal, and the trouble is that a flea which has been infected in October can still pass on plague the following March. What's more, plague can spread to domestic rats and mice.'
Dr. Petrie frowned. 'But can't one person pass it straight on to another?'
'With bubonic plague, that's difficult,' said Dr. Selmer. 'It doesn't spread easily from man to man.'
'How about the other plagues? Surely pneumonic plague is catching?'
Dr. Selmer said, 'Yes, it is. If you're suffering from pneumonic plague, you only have to cough in someone's face, and they'll almost certainly catch it. It's the sputum. Plague bacilli can stay alive in dried sputum for up to three months.'
'Oh, God,' said Dr. Petrie. 'Listen — when will you get your final results?'
'Two or three hours, the lab people say. As soon as I know for sure, I'll warn City Hall and all the health people.'
Dr. Petrie nodded. 'Okay, Anton. Keep me in touch, won't you? And don't forget to take some streptomycin yourself.'
'Are you kidding? We're walking around here in masks and gloves and flea-proof clothing. It's going to have to be a pretty damned smart bacillus to get through to us.'
Dr. Petrie laid the phone down. Adelaide was looking at him anxiously. On the floor, Prickles was tucking her doll in for the night underneath the armchair, and singing her a lullaby in a small, high voice.
'Did I hear you say plague?' asked Adelaide.
'That's right. That boy I picked up this morning, the one who died. He was infected with some kind of mutated plague bacillus. They're trying to pinpoint it now.'
'Is it dangerous?'
Dr. Petrie went across and picked up his drink. He took a long, icy swallow of chilled white rum, and briefly closed his eyes.
'All diseases are dangerous, if they're not treated promptly and properly. I've taken a couple of shots of antibiotics myself, but I think you and Prickles ought to have the same. Plague will kill you if it's left untreated, but these days it's pretty much under control.'
'Are you sure? I mean — '
