Doc sighed and lifted his misshapen body. "All right." He turned to a woman near the bed. The woman's eyes were liquid and full of hurt. "I can't do anything," Doc said. "I don't know what's the matter with him." Caffrey felt stupid, seeing sorrow expressed for a woman who wasn't even human. Doc snapped his lighter closed and the circle of fire was gone. Caffrey breathed easily.
"It's too damned dark," Dillman whispered as they moved toward the door. He stumbled against a bunk and swore.
"Keep quiet," Doc said very softly. "Just you keep quiet."
Caffrey closed the black door and passed out cigarettes. The smoke whirled up to the ventilators like a dancing blue dragon. "Doc," he said, trying to control his anger, "I'd like to know why you're getting so excited."
"This is the first time I've seen disease in an android," the little man replied. "I don't know whether the disease is harmful to them or not. I mean seriously harmful. But remember what Terran scarlet fever did on Antares second. We've taken care of scarlet fever. It isn't fatal to us. But remember what it did to the people on Antares second."
"Yeah," said Dillman, leaning against the wall and covering his eyes.
Caffrey remembered too; the bodies and the fine yellow buildings and the rot and the inability to stop the corruption. The system had known panic.
"I see," he said. "You think whatever's wrong with that kid, even though it might not bother them much, might ... kill us? Is that it?"
"Yes," said Doc. He blew out some smoke.
Caffrey grabbed his arm. "Nothing's going to happen. This cargo is going to Mars and nothing's going to happen. I've worked for this a long time. Understand? No sick kid is going to keep me from landing on Mars."