"Yes sir. I believe that would define it best. It was a sort of wild and ungovernable desire to speculate on the origin of the aliens. A very singular experience," he added.
"I knew it!" Curl almost shouted. Then he quickly glanced about and composed himself stiffly. That was an embarrassing thing to do. In front of an administrator, too.
"Very well," he said. "That confirms my diagnosis. I shall report it to the Council and let them decide what to do."
"What is it?" Ruut asked.
"A very strange disease. Rare, too. I haven't had a case of it for centuries." He paused and shook his head. "Too bad. I don't recall a single recovery from it once it got a good start."
"It is—contagious?" Ruut asked timidly.
"Oh, not for you," Curl smiled. "It's called intellectual curiosity, and it requires somewhat more brain power than you have."
"Thank Oxy for that," Ruut breathed fervently. His eyes went back to the recumbent form of the diseased citizen.
"Yes. The Council will dearly love this." Curl said with satisfaction. "Most unusual. He'll have to be destroyed, of course."
"But can't you do anything for it?"