Doc had just won the pot of
fifty pills and opened his mouth for the expected gloating. He yelled as
an explosion seemed to go off inside his head. Even closing his mouth
was agony.
A moment later, Tom began to sweat. It got worse, spreading to the whole
area of the back of the head and neck. Doc lay on the cot, envying Chris
and Swanee who had already been infected naturally. He longed
desperately for bracky, and had to keep reminding himself that no drugs
must upset the tests. It was the longest day he had ever spent, and he
began to doubt that he could get through it. He watched the little clock
move from one minute to nine over to half a minute and hung breathless
until it hit the nine. There was no question about whether the infection
had taken. Now they could dull the agony.
Chris had the anodyne tablets already dissolved in water, and Swanee was
passing out three lighted bracky weeds. It took a few minutes for the
relief of the anodyne, and even that couldn't kill all the pain. But it
didn't matter by comparison. He sucked the weed, mashed it out and began
dealing the cards again.
They had a plentiful supply of the anodyne and used it liberally during
the night. The test was a speeded-up simulation of the natural course of
the disease, where painkiller would take time to get for most people
here, but would then be used generously.
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