But she'd had a rough
drive, and he wanted the plasma. Curiously, he was glad to have her back
with him. He reached out a hand for the bottles.
She put the bottle on the table and grabbed up a short-bladed knife.
"Not so fast," she cried. Her eyes were blazing now. "Dan Feldman, if
you touch those bottles until you've crawled across the floor on your
face and apologized for the way you treated me the last few days, I'll
cut your damned heart out."
He shook his head, chuckling at the picture she made. There were times
when he could almost see why he'd married her.
"All right, Chris," he gave in. "I'll be darned if I'll crawl, but
you've earned an apology. Okay?"
She sighed uncertainly. Then she nodded and began changing for work.
XIV
Immunity
They worked through the day in what seemed to be armed truce. There was
no coffee waiting for him when he awoke next, as he'd come to expect,
but he didn't comment. He went to where she was already working,
checking on the results of the plasma on the cultures.
The response had been slower than with the mouse blood, but now the bugs
seemed to be dead. The filaments were destroyed, and there were no signs
of the big cells. It seemed to be a cure, at least in the culture
bottles.
"We'll need volunteers," he decided. "There should be animals, but we
don't have any. At least this stuff isn't toxic.
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