"Next one," said Ole Doc.

"There isn't going to be a next one," said a cool voice behind them.

They whirled to find a leathery-faced, short-statured character in leather garb who stood indolently leaning against a porch post with an undoubtedly lethal weapon aimed in their general direction.

"And who are you?" said Ole Doc.

"The name is Smalley. Not that you'll be very interested for long. All done playing with the kids? Well, stand away so you're not in line with those cages and we'll get this over with."

Ole Doc looked at Hippocrates and Hippocrates looked at Ole Doc. It would have taken a very good poker player to have told what pa.s.sed between them. But Ole Doc knew what he wanted to know. During his chicken treat- ments his orders had been carried out. He laid his hypo on the table with an histrionic sigh and carelessly thumbed the b.u.t.ton on the magnetic release. Very small in the distance there were slight, pinging sounds.

"You know," said Ole Doc, "I wouldn't be too much in a hurry, Smalley."

"And why not?"

"Because I was just giving this kid a treatment to save his life."

"Yeah. I believe you."

"Happens to be the truth," said Ole Doc. "Of course I didn't have any idea that their friends would be along so soon, but I just didn't like to see kids die wholesale. If you'll call up your medico, I'll show him what's to be done-"

"About what?"

"About this illness," said Ole Doc. "Strange thing. Must be a lion disease or something. Very rare. Affects all the nerve centres."

"Those two kids look all right to me!" said Smalley, getting alert and peering at the cages on the porch.

"These I've practically cured, although the girl there still wants her final treatment. But down at the pens-"

"What about the pens?" demanded Smalley.

"There's thirty-eight thousand mighty sick babies. And it's going to take a lot of know-how to heal them. Left un- treated, they'll die. But, as you're the one who's inter- ested-"

"Say, how do you know so much?" snarled Smalley.

"I happen to be a doctor," said Ole Doc.

"He is Ole Doc Methuselah!" said Hippocrates with truculence. "He is a Soldier of Light!"

"What's that?" said Smalley.

"A doctor," said Ole Doc. "Now if you'll bring your medico here-"

"And if I don't have one?"

"Why, that's surprising," said Ole Doc. "How do you expect to keep thirty-eight thousand kids whole without a doctor?"

"We'll manage! Now get this, doc. You're going to unbuckle that blaster belt right where you stand and you're going to walk ahead of me slow to the pens.

And you'd better be telling the truth."

Ole Doc dropped his belt, made a sign to Hippocrates to gather up the graduates and stepped out toward the pens.

Here, under the slanting yellow rays of the afternoon sun it became very obvious that there wasn't an Achnoid in sight. Instead there were various beings in disordered dress who held carefully ordered weapons commanding all avenues of escape.

"Thought you'd land tomorrow," said Ole Doc.

"How is that?" snapped Smalley.

"Oh, the way the Achnoids acted. And a detector that's part of my operating kit which said you'd already come down twice before last week to the south of here."

"Just keep walking," said Smalley. "You might get past me but you won't get past the gate or get near your ship.

We've had that guarded for two months hoping you'd show up."

"Lucky I didn't, eh?" said Ole Doc. "Your harvest here would be dead."

They stood now near the concrete wall of one pen.

Smalley, keeping an eye out behind him and walking with caution, mounted up the ramp. But contrary to Hippoc- rates' fond expectation, no pellet knocked the top of his head off. He stiffened and stared.

Ole Doc went up beside him and looked down. As far as these pens reached they could see kids lying around, some inert, some twitching, some struggling but all very, very ill. And obvious on the first of them were big red splotches.

Smalley yelled a warning to his guards to stay clear and then faced Ole Doc.

"All right. They're sick. How they goin' to get cured?"

"Why, I was all set to cure them right here," said Ole Doc. "But if you're so anxious to shoot me-"

"That can wait! Cure them! Cure them, you hear me?"

Ole Doc shrugged. "Have it any way you like, Smalley.

But I'll need the rest of my equipment over here."

"All right, you'll get it!"

Ole Doc dropped down into the first pen and Hippoc- rates handed him equipment. From his cloak pocket Ole Doc took a gun hypo which did not need a needle to penetrate. He fitted a charge in this and shot the first kid.

Then he rolled the infant over and got to work with his hypo needle.

Smalley looked suspicious. He kept his place at a dis- tance and kept down the visor of his s.p.a.ce helmet. Two of his guards came up and some distance from him, received further orders and went back to watch from the gate.

The first kid got seven shots and then another charge from the hypo gun. The red splotches began to vanish and the child was asleep.

It was a.s.sembly line work after that with O'Hara and Hippocrates slinging kids into place and holding them and Hippocrates quadridextrously administering the before and after gun shots.

Night came and they lighted the pens and the work went on. Ole Doc stopped for food after he reached the thou- sand mark and came back to where Smalley was watching.

"Give me a hand up," said Ole Doc.

Smalley had watched child after child go peacefully to sleep and the blotches vanish and despite his air, he was too confused about Ole Doc not to obey the order. Ole Doc gripped the offered hand and came up over the ramp.