“There are twelve bays to this station,” Jordan said. “Under our present setup two are used for breeding and the other ten for maturation. We rotate the youngsters around the bay—a different bay each year until they’re age eleven. Then they’re sorted according to type and sent out for a year of further specialized training after which they go onto the farms, or to inhouse or export.
“Now here’s the peculiar part. There’s no trouble in Bays One through Nine, but Bay Ten has had all our losses except two that have occurred at the training stations.”
“That’s good news,” Kennon said. “Our parasite can’t have had time to migrate too far. We have him pinpointed unless—say how many training centers are there?”
“Three,” Jordan said.
“Quarantine them,” Kennon replied. “Right now. Nothing goes in or out until we’ve checked them and completed prophylaxis.”
Jordan looked at Blalok inquiringly.
“He’s the boss,” Blalok said. “Do as you’re told. This is his problem.”
“Why the quarantine?” Jordan asked.
“I want to get any carriers. We can check them with antigen, and then give Trematox.”
“All that concentration in Bay Ten,” Jordan said. “Does it mean something?”