"Yes, sir," the boy said. "Where are you?"
He fumbled in his pocket for a scrap of paper to write on and came up with the list of supplies. He had nearly forgotten it. "I'm at Balliol," he said, "send a messenger," and went back down to Supplies.
"You haven't filled this out properly," the crone said starchily when Dunworthy gave her the form.
"I've had it signed," he said, handing her his list. "You fill it out."
She looked disapprovingly at the list. "We haven't any masks or temps." She reached down a small bottle of aspirin. "We're out of synthamycin and AZL."
The bottle of aspirin contained perhaps twenty tablets. He put them in his pocket and walked down to the High to the chemist's. A small crowd of protesters stood outside in the rain, holding pickets that said, "UNFAIR!" and "Price gouging!" He went inside. They were out of masks, and the temps and the aspirin were outrageously priced. He bought all they had.
He spent the night dispensing them and studying Badri's chart, looking for some clue to the virus's source. Badri had run an on-site for Nineteenth Century in Hungary on the tenth of December, but the chart did not say where in Hungary , and William, who was flirting with the detainees who were still on their feet, didn't know, and the phones were still out.
They were still out in the morning when Dunworthy tried to phone to check on Badri's condition. He could not even raise a dialing tone, but as soon as he put down the receiver, the telephone rang.
It was Andrews. Dunworthy could scarcely hear his voice through the static. "Sorry this took so long," he said, and then something that was lost entirely.
"I can't hear you," Dunworthy said.
"I said, I've had difficulty getting through. The phones…" More static. "I did the parameter checks. I used three different L-and-L's and triangulated the…" The rest was lost.
"What was the maximal slippage?" he shouted into the phone.
The line went momentarily clear. "Six days."
"Six days?" Dunworthy shouted. "Are you certain?"
"That was with an L-and-L of…" More static. "I ran probabilities, and the possible maximal for any L-and-L's within a circumference of fifty kilometers was still five years." The static roared in again, and the line went dead.
Dunworthy put the receiver down. He should have felt reassured, but he could not seem to summon any feeling. Gilchrist had no intention of opening the net on the sixth, whether Kivrin was there or not. he reached for the phone to phone the Scottish Tourism Bureau, and as he did, it rang again.
"Dunworthy here," he said, squinting at the screen, but the visuals were still nothing but snow.
"Who?" a woman's voice that sounded hoarse or groggy said. "Sorry," it murmured, "I meant to ring — " and something else too blurred to make out, and the visual went blank.
He waited to see if it would ring again, and then went back across to Salvin. Magdalen's bell was chiming the hour. It sounded like a funeral bell in the unceasing rain. Ms. Piantini had apparently heard the bell, too. She was standing in the quad in her nightgown, solemnly raising her arms in an unheard rhythm. "Middle, wrong, and into the hunt," she said when Dunworthy tried to take her back inside.
Finch appeared, looking distraught. "It's the bells, sir," he said, taking hold of her other arm. "They upset her. I don't think they should ring them under the circumstances."
Ms. Piantini wrenched free of Dunworthy's restraining hand. "Every man must stick to his bell without interruption," she said furiously.
"I quite agree," Finch said, clutching her arm as firmly as if it were a bell rope, and led her back to her cot.
Colin came skidding in, drenched as usual and nearly blue With cold. His jacket was open, and Mary's gray muffler dangled uselessly about his neck. He handed Dunworthy a message. "It's from Badri's nurse," he said, opening a packet of soap tablets and popping a light blue one into his mouth.
The note was drenched, too. It read, "Badri asking for you," though the word 'Badri' was so blurred he couldn't make out more than the B.
"Did the nurse say whether Badri was worse?"
"No, just to give you the message. And Aunt Mary says when you come, you're to get your enhancement. She said she doesn't know when the analogue will get here."
Dunworthy helped Finch wrestle Ms. Piantini into bed and hurried to Infirmary and up to isolation. There was another new nurse, this one a middle-aged woman with swollen feet. She was sitting with them propped up on the screens, watching a pocket vidder, but she stood up immediately when he came in.
"Are you Mr. Dunworthy?" she asked, blocking his way. "Dr. Ahrens said you're to meet her downstairs immediately."
She said it quietly, even kindly, and he thought, she's trying to spare me. She doesn't want me to see what's in there. She wants Mary to tell me first.
"It's Badri, isn't it? He's dead."
She looked genuinely surprised. "Oh, no, he's much better this morning. Didn't you get my note? He's sitting up."
"Sitting up?" he said, staring at her, wondering if she were delirious with fever.
"He's still very weak of course, but his temp's normal and he's alert. You're to meet Dr. Ahrens in casualties. She said it was urgent."
He looked wonderingly toward the door to Badri's room. "Tell him I'll be in to see him as soon as I can," he said and hurried out the door.
He nearly collided with Colin, who was apparently coming in. "What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Did one of the techs telephone?"
"I've been assigned to you," Colin said. "Great-Aunt Mary says she doesn't trust you to get your T-cell enhancement. I'm supposed to take you down to get it."
"I can't. There's an emergency in casualties," he said, walking rapidly down the corridor.
Colin ran to keep up with him. "Well, then, after the emergency. She said I wasn't to let you leave Infirmary without it."
Mary was there to meet them when the lift opened. "We have another case," she said grimly. "It's Montoya." She started for casualties. "They're bringing her in from Witney."
"Montoya?" Dunworthy said. "That's impossible. She's been out at the dig alone."
She pushed open the double doors. "Apparently not."
"But she said — are you certain it's the virus? She's been working in the rain. Perhaps it's some other disease."
Mary shook her head. "The ambulance team ran a prelim. It matches the virus." She stopped at the admissions desk and asked the house officer, "Are they here yet?"
He shook his head. "They've just come through the perimeter."
Mary walked over to the doors and looked out, as if she didn't believe him. "We got a call from her this morning, very confused," she said, turning back to them. "I telephoned to Chipping Norton, which is the nearest hospital, told them to send an ambulance, but they said the dig was officially under quarantine. And I couldn't get one of ours out to her. I finally had to persuade the NHS to grant a dispensation to send an ambulance." She peered out the doors again. "When did she go out to the dig?"
"I — " Dunworthy tried to remember. She had phoned to ask him about the Scottish fishing guides on Christmas Day and then phoned back that afternoon to say, "Never mind," because she had decided to forge Basingame's signature instead. "Christmas Day," he said. "If the NHS offices were open. Or the twenty-sixth. And she hasn't seen anyone since then."
"How do you know?"
"When I spoke to her, she was complaining that she couldn't keep the dig dry singlehanded. She wanted me to phone to the NHS to ask for students to help her."
"How long ago was that?"
"Two — no, three days ago," he said, frowning. The days ran together when one never got to bed.
"Could she have found someone at the farm to help after she spoke to you?"
"There's no one there in the winter."