"How did you manage to keep alive?"
"I found food. The Ancients had stocked up this place. Pills!" Willard grimaced. "They kept me alive, and there was a machine for making water out of the air. But I'm hungry for a steak."
Garth scowled. "Doc—one more thing. You know what I mean?"
Willard sobered. "I get it, Ed. The cure. Whether or not I—"
"Whether or not you've found the cure for the Silver Plague. It hasn't been checked yet. It's still killing thousands on Earth."
"So. I wondered a lot about that. Well—the answer is yes, Ed. I know the answer."
"The cure?"
"Yes. I worked it out, completely, with the aid of the Ancients' library. They were studying it too, but they didn't have quite the right angle. However, they were able to supply the missing data I needed." Willard took from his pocket a small notebook. "I had five years to work on it. So far, of course, it's theoretical, but everything checks. It's the cure, all right."
Somehow Garth didn't feel much excitement. Five years ago, he thought, that notebook would have saved Moira's life. Now—well, it would still save life. It would save Earth. But—
He shrugged. "Two good reasons to get back to civilization. The cure, and the secret of the power-source."