ment sawbones got strangled in red tape. Anyhow, the
brand-new lieutenant hasn't showed up here. As far as I know, I'm in
charge."

"But this is incredible," a two-star general wailed. "A mysterious
epidemic is sweeping the country, possibly an insidious germ attack
timed to precede an all-out invasion, and a noncom is sitting on top
of the whole powder keg."

Andy's big hands clenched into fists and he had to wait a moment
before he could speak safely. Doggone the freckles and the unruly mop
of hair that give him such a boyish look. "May I remind you, general,"
he said, "that I've been entombed here for two years. My staff and I
know what to do. If you'll give us some co-operation and a priority,
we'll try to figure this thing out."

"But good heavens," a chicken colonel moaned, "this is all so
irregular. A noncom!" He said it like a dirty word.

"Irregular, hell," the brigadier snorted, the message getting through.
"There're ways. Gentlemen, I suggest we clear out of here and let the
sergeant get to work." He took a step toward the door, and the other
officers, protesting and complaining, moved along after him. As they
drifted out, he turned and said, "We'll clear your office for top
priority." Then dead serious, he added, "Son, a whole nation could
panic at any moment. You've got to come through."

Andy didn't waste time standing. He merely nodded to the general,
snubbed out his cigarette, and buzzed the intercom. "Bettijean, will
you bring me all the latest reports, please?" Then he peeled out of
his be-ribboned blouse and rolled up his sleeves. He allowed himself
one moment to enjoy the sight of the slim, black-headed corporal who
entered his office.

* * * * *

Bettijean crossed briskly to his desk. She gave him a motherly smile
as she put down a thick sheaf of papers. "You look beat," she said.
"Brass give you much trouble?"

"Not much. We're top priority now." He ran fingers through the thick,
brown hair and massaged his scalp, trying to generate stimulation to
his wary and confused brain. "What's new?"

"I've gone though some of these," she said. "Tried to save you a
little time."

"Thanks. Sit down."

She pulled up a chair and thumbed through the papers. "So far, no
fatalities. That's why there's no panic yet, I guess. But it's
spreading like ... well, like a plague." Fear flickered deep in her
dark eyes.

"Any water reports?" Andy asked.

"Wichita O.K., Indian