Cortin chuckled. "Yes—the only one I know of that most people wanted to catch. But you might not want to export it to the Empire, so Captain Odeon's right; I ought to warn you. It's called the satyr plague, which should give you some idea of its nature."
DeLayne nodded. "I think so—but I don't care to guess at the details, so tell me about it, please. And what a large number of troopers has to do with it."
"The troopers first," Cortin said. "Because of the hazardous nature of our work, the Royal Enforcement Services have both Church and civil dispensations from the sexual restrictions that apply to everyone else—except their partners at the time, of course. So they won't have any hesitation asking any of your people they find attractive, or accepting offers from them. The joyhouses don't have that dispensation yet, but since the plague appeared, working in or patronizing them's no more than a venial sin and a misdemeanor the RES pays attention to only if there's a complaint; we have far more serious crimes to worry about.
"The plague itself, of course, is sexually transmitted. There's no danger of infection from casual contact, only about a one percent chance from kissing, but the odds improve with the intimacy of contact. As far as we can tell, intercourse with someone who has the plague guarantees you'll get it; other genital contact is high-probability but not certain."
"But what does it do?" Conley asked.
Cortin grinned at Odeon, who answered. "What it does, Miss Conley, is increase both sexual desire and capability. That's most noticeable in men, though it affects women as well. As you can probably imagine, it's had quite an effect on our society the last three decades."
"What about immunization or a cure?" DeLayne asked.
"Who'd want it?" Odeon asked in reply. "I damnsure wouldn't; I like what it's done for me. And for our wives and Family head."
DeLayne raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "We'll work on both, then, if you could provide a blood sample from someone who's infected."
"How big a sample?"