izens. Mere contact was enough; if the
bite did anything, it may have hastened the process.

So here I was, a nice valuable property, with a will of my own. I could
either throw in with Phelps and bite only Phelps' Chosen Aristocrats, or
I could go back to the Highways and bite everybody in sight.

I laughed at my image in the mirror. I am a democratic sort of soul, but
when it comes to biting, there's some I'd rather bite than others.

I bared my teeth at my image, but it was more of a leering smile of the
tooth-paste ad than a fierce snarl.

My image looked pensive. It was thinking, _Steve, old carnivore, ere you
go biting anybody, you've first got to bite your way out of the Medical
Center._

XIX

One hour later they pulled my fangs without benefit of anaesthesia.

Thorndyke came in to inspect the progress of my infection and allowed as
how I'd be about ready for the full treatment in a few days. "We like to
delay the full treatment as long as possible," he told me, "because it
immobilizes the patient too long as it is." He pressed a call bell,
waited, and soon the door opened to admit a nurses' helper pushing a
trundle cart loaded with medical junk. I still don't know what was on
the cart because I was too flabbergasted to notice it.

I was paying all my attention to Catherine, cheerful in her Gray Lady
uniform, being utterly helpful, bright, gay, and relaxed. I was tongue
tied, geflummoxed, beaten down, and--well, just speechless.

Catherine was quite professional about her help. She loaded the
skin-blast hypo and slapped it into Thorndyke's open hand. Her eyes
looked into mine and they smiled reassuringly. Her hand was firm as she
took my arm; she locked her strength on my hand and held it immobile
while Thorndyke shot me in the second joint. There was a personal touch
to her only briefly when she breathed, "Steve, I'm so glad!" and then
went on about her work. The irony of it escaped me; but later I did
recall the oddity of congratulating someone who's just contracted a
disease.

Then that wave of agony hit me, and the only thing I can remember
through it was Catherine folding a towel so that the hem would be on the
inside when she wiped the beads of sweat from my face. She cradled my
head between her hands and crooned lightly to me until the depths of the
pain was past. Then she got efficient again and waved Thorndyke aside to
see to the little straps on the manipulator herself. She adjusted t