Name it and I'll do my
best."
Doc had a vague idea of village politics, but he had more important
things to think of. Most of his foul mood had disappeared with the clue
he'd stumbled on, and his chief worry now was to clinch the facts.
Feldman considered the problem. "I want a report on every case of
jumping headache in every village--who had it, when, and how old they
were. This place first, but every village you can reach. And I'll want
someone to take a letter to Chris Ryan."
Jake frowned at that, but went out to issue instructions. Doc sat down
at a battered old typewriter. Writing Chris might do no good, but some
warning had to be gotten through to Earth, where the vast resources of
Medical Lobby could be thrown into the task of finding the cause and
cure of the disease. The connection with Selznik's migraine had to be
reported. If something could blast the Lobby into action, it wouldn't
matter quite so much what they did to him. He wasn't foolish enough to
expect gratitude from them, but he was getting used to the idea that his
days were numbered. The plague was more important than what happened to
him.
The letter had been dispatched by the time Jake returned. "Here's the
dope for this village. Everybody accounted for except you."
"Never had it, Jake." Feldman went down the list. "Most of it fourteen
years ago. That fits.
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