Yon the Fisher beamed. "Really? Well, perhaps I am."
"Set her down on that level space there." Hale pointed below.
When the ship was grounded, he opened the airlock and climbed out. "Now here's what you do, Yon. Take her up to thirty thousand feet and fly level, due south. Now, don't try to leave the atmosphere; you're not ready for that yet. Go south for fifteen minutes, then make a one-eighty degree turn and come back. Got it? Fine. Now, be careful; don't get yourself hurt."
He stepped out and watched the ship lift and head south. Ten minutes later, he heard a muffled sound, like distant thunder. Smiling with satisfaction, he headed for his own ship with a fortune in diamonds in his pack.
Captain Doctor Wills sent out the full story as he knew it. Health Center received it and so did most of the galactic news services. Hale was a hero who had sacrificed his life for medicine and humanity. When Health Center found they had no Leland Hale on their register, there was an investigation and an attempt to quash the story, but it was too late.
The fact that Hale himself had knowingly spread influenza across the face of Cardigan's Green meant nothing to anyone; no one even suspected it. Blowing up the Morris with his "old friend" Yon the Fisher inside was not an act of altruism; Hale didn't care what happened to the rest of the galaxy, but he could not make a fortune from empty planets, and he couldn't have spent it on worlds decimated by disease.
He didn't care for people in general, but he thought Leland Hale was a nice guy.
And the people of Cardigan's Green agreed with him. He had given his all for them and died with their Commander in trying to free them from their planet.
Even today, standing in the central square of the city of Taun on Cardigan's Green, the populace (long since rid of the virus that caused the actual Plague) can see a heroic statue of a nobly visaged man in a zipsuit and insulation jacket, hands on hips, staring at the sky with narrowed eyes.