He gestured vaguely and
walked through the room to the doctor's office.

"Dr. Thorndyke!" Gallifa called.

"Eh!" The doctor was startled. He walked quickly over to a wall cabinet
and busied himself with an electronic sterilizer. When he turned he was
holding a short-barreled, hair-thin hypodermic jet.

"I've been hoping you'd come by," he said. "That cut in your cheek. You
should have had a tetanus shot."

Gallifa automatically bared an arm and leaned on the table. The doctor
held the needle up to the light and exerted a minute pressure on the
plunger. He reached for Gallifa's arm.

MacFarland was across the room in five quick strides. He hit the doctor
across the side of the head with the broad blade of the axe. Dr.
Thorndyke sighed and collapsed loosely on the floor. The point of the
dropped hypodermic shattered and a milky fluid oozed from the splintered
end.

Gallifa's reflexes were slow. For a long moment he stood as though
stunned. Then shock caught at him. But the slow-motion time which
gripped him wouldn't allow him to take more than two steps before the
axe in MacFarland's big hand would come crashing down. He wished he
could have activated the transmitter before it happened. Dazed, he
wondered who would warn the colonists?

Gallifa suddenly realized he had placed the portable operating table
between himself and the other man. He drew his first breath, and it
caught in his throat. Then he was through the door and running across
the compound. He stumbled towards the equipment shack and threw himself
in the back of a truck.

MacFarland didn't follow.

VII

Gallifa rubbed his aching eyes and rested. How many hours had passed
since he had slept or eaten? It was fully light now, although the dawn
sky was gray because of the clouds. A strong wind pulled at his hair,
and the first heavy drops of another rainstorm pelted against his face.
Gallifa moved under the half-top canvas and wished for a slicker. The
rain was cold.

The crackle of small arms brought Gallifa to the edge of the truck. He
hadn't realized how still the camp really was. The tension was a live
thing, coiled in the wet air. There was no doubt the firing came from
the mess hall. The bio team had all of the weapons.

Gallifa was sure he could stop the panic if he could contact the men. If
only they weren't so scattered. He had to try. He gave another quick
look at the hospital door, then sped around the Administration Building.