all right, Sylvester?"

For a moment his hangover dominated, but then it all came back. "Good
morning! I'm _great_!" he moaned.

"Stitchell and the new toxicologist think they have something to
report," she said.

"So do I. Alcohol is positively not the answer."

"This is important. Your suggestion on the sulfa series seems to have
paid off."

"I'll be right over," he said, "as soon as I amputate my head."

"Come down to the zoo. I'll be there."

The thought of a remedy that might relieve him was a fair hangover cure.
He dressed quickly and even managed to swallow a little coffee and
toast.

V

At the hospital, he went directly to the "zoo" in the basement. A knot
of personnel, including Phyllis, Peterson, the toxicologist, and
Feldman, opened to admit him to the cage under their inspection. A quick
glance at the control cages showed no change in the undoctored monkeys.
Males and females were paired off, huddling together miserably,
chattering and sadly rubbing their heads together. Each couple eyed the
other couples suspiciously. Even here, the overpossessiveness was
evident, and Murt cringed from the pitiful, disconsolate expressions.

The cage before him, however, appeared normally animated. The monks were
feeding and playing happily. Feldman was grinning. "Had to try a new
derivative, Sylvester, but the sulfa series was the right approach."

Murt stared at the cage, redeyed. "Hadn't realized you succeeded in
producing the symptoms in monkeys."

Phyllis said, "Why, I gave you that report yester--" She broke off with
an understanding glance.

Peterson was exclaiming, "I never saw such a rapid-acting remedy! And so
far, there's no evidence of toxic effect."

"It must absorb directly into the gland tissue," Feldman added. "Hardly
had time to materially reduce the virus content significantly."

Murt murmured words of congratulations to them, turned on his heel and
stalked out. Phyllis followed him to his office.

"Get me some of the stuff and notes on the dosages they administered,"
he ordered.

"Certainly," she said. "But why didn't you ask--_Dr. Murt, you aren't
going to try it on yourself?_"

"Why not?" he barked hoarsely.

"It'll be weeks before we can determine if it's safe," she protested,
horrified.

"We haven't got weeks. People are falling apart. This thing's
contagious."

Even while Murt said it, he felt it was the wrong approach. He knew his
own perspective was shot, but P