"Exactly. Virus RM3 was our best development up to now; it has a contagion index and mortality rate of 100, with the psychological advantage of bringing about death in a rather repulsive fashion; it is easily produced and distributed, and there is no known counteragent. So it cannot be used as a weapon; it is too dangerous to the user."
"We were over that before," said the Dictator. They had been, and he had found it hard to stomach. Especially when he reflected that the enemy, while it was improbable they had duplicated the creation of RM3, might have equally deadly weapons, which similar considerations would deter them from using—unless driven to suicidal retaliation. It was known, though, that the enemy had been fortunately slow in developing the technique of disease mutation—the methods of irradiation, centrifugal selection and automatic scanning which could produce and analyze thousands of cultures at a time, compress millions of years of micro-organic evolution into weeks or days.
"The single case of immunity to RM4," said Euge drily, "had no bases that became evident either at once or on the closest comparison of the physiological data, both pre-inoculation and post mortem. I was on the point of giving up and deciding to repeat the experiment, when it occurred to me to contact the Political Police and ask for their dossiers on all the specimens. After a little delay, my request was granted—"
"I know," said the Dictator impatiently; "I approved it myself."
"Well—the fifteen men who died of RM4 were run-of-the mill criminals and political offenders—malcontents stupid enough to express themselves antisocially. But the survivor was a Witness of the Lord—a religious maniac, arrested for overstepping the limits of toleration in an impromptu sermon. A man of scanty intelligence, barely above the euthanasia level.
"Those facts, however, were less interesting than the letter attached to the dossier. It stated that, after a review of the case inspired by my particular interest in it, the Political Police had concluded that the man's arrest had been a mistake. You know that those fanatics, though not our most desirable elements, are mostly harmless and even useful, with their 'whatever is, is right' theology. This one's loyalty seems to have been beyond question."
The Dictator's eyes glowed with a sudden energy. "When the Popo admits a mistake, there's really been one!" His breath whistled between his teeth. "I—begin to—see." He started pacing up and down the room. "The perfect weapon—an intelligent virus!"
"Not intelligent," denied Euge heavily. "The day we develop a thinking virus here—a thing I do not believe possible—I will call for an atomic bomb to be dropped on the laboratory. RM4, evolved from an encephalitic measles strain, attacks primarily the brain—as it seems now, only certain types of brains. Of course, the data are insufficient. Some of the lower animals tested were immune—but you can't draw safe analogies between animals and men. I'll need more human material."
"You'll get it!" The Dictator halted and stood very straight, glittering impressively in his uniform. "How many—"
"This time I will need a control...."