"What about the tests?" Gallifa asked.
"There aren't going to be any tests," Dr. Thorndyke replied grimly. "At least not on the men in the hospital. They are all dead."
"What happened?" Gallifa urged, his eyes wide with shock.
Everyone was very quiet.
The doctor wiped his hand across his forehead. "Nolan was on duty in the wardroom. He went out for a smoke. I heard him go out. I didn't hear him come back. I was setting up some new equipment. When I finally went back to the ward Nolan must have caught—whatever it is. He was gone, and he'd slit every man's throat with a scalpel."
Gallifa faced the assemblage. "We're going to inoculate everyone here. As soon as we're through, I want each team to go to their own shacks and stay there. If you have to go somewhere, go in pairs. If you see anyone wandering around by himself, no matter who he is, bang him over the head with something and bring him over to the hospital. Otherwise, stay put."
The men received their shots in an uncomfortable silence and disappeared into the night. Gallifa, MacFarland, and Dr. Thorndyke remained in the Administration room.
"Any idea what it is, doc?" MacFarland asked huskily.
"I hardly had time to take care of the patients," Dr. Thorndyke replied bitterly. "Did you honestly expect me to find out what was wrong with them in a few short hours?"
"But—" Gallifa began.