"And we sit here helpless," growled Franklen, "all clutching our atomic weapons that could wipe out Hohmann and most of his country. And as we hang on to them, and rub their rounded noses angrily, we watch Hohmann walk in and take over—we are unsure of our grounds. Bah! Why not claim it for what it is—aggressive acquisition of territory? Then let's bomb him and let the world judge for itself."
Winter shook his head slowly. "And if we do, La Belle Francaise will rise up and scream 'Oppression'! For France is probably an operating country today because of Edvard Hohmann. There was once a first-class criminal, Public Enemy Number One, who, during a period of economic depression, used some of his ill-gotten gains to set up soup kitchens for the underfed. You'd hardly convince any one of them that he was entirely worthy of the electric chair and not much better. That was when his crimes were known to all. And people said: 'O.K., so he's killed a bunch of people. They were all criminals, too, and so he saved the country some expense. And besides, he set up soup kitchens, and so he's not a bad sort of fellow!' No, Jim, we've got to get evidence of definite acts of belligerency."
"Sort of like trying to get evidence against a confidence-man who sells his victims something that they believe valuable."
Winter nodded at the simile.
"More like a druggist who sells opiates indiscriminately. The people who buy them do so because they find them useful even though they are dangerous in the long run. But you keep on trying, Jim. The rest of us will see to it that Hohmann isn't running himself up a stockpile of atomics all the time that his underground warfare is going on."
Jim Franklen left the office and wandered down the hall to the Chief Physician's office. Shield greeted Franklen cheerfully and asked what was on the younger man's mind.
"Nothing much," said Jim. "I was just wondering if you'd isolated the bug or whatever it was that hit France."
"We believe so," said Dr. Shield. "We'll know in another couple of weeks. It seems to be some sort of filterable virus, air-borne for contagion, and very rugged. Intelligent, too. It apparently knows enough not to touch diparasulfathiazole."
"How do these rare illnesses get going?" questioned Jim.