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throat.
     
     
"She's felinoid, too, and genetically much closer to the Eeiauoans than a human. I want to know why humans are contracting ADF syndrome but her people aren't, despite similar contact."
     
     
"Yes, by all means, if she'll agree to it. Tell her it's strictly voluntary, though. I'll clear it with Security."
     
     
"Thank you, sir!" She led the way to the door. Reluctant to see her go, Jim Kirk outpaced her and stretched an arm nonchalantly across the passage. It was a miscalculation, he found, for she merely ducked her head marginally and was under his arm and into the corridor before he had time to say another word. I wonder if that's what she did to Sulu, he thought and followed. He said, "Would you mind a personal question, Dr. Wilson?"
     
     
She stopped. "Call me Evan," she said, "if it's a personal question."
     
     
"Why would a doctor take up saber, Evan?"
     
     
She gave him one of the wickedest grins he'd ever seen on a human being. "I took up saber for the same reason I took up quarterstaff and eating with chopsticks."
     
     
She vanished around the corner without another word. Startled into laughter, he did not follow. Even as he heard the soft sound of the turbolift, he knew instinctively that she would not explain even if he caught up with her, and that somehow made it all the funnier.
     
     
It wasn't until Chekov found him there and asked, "Are you all right, Keptain?" that he realized fully what she'd done.
     
     
"Yes, Mr. Chekov, I'm fine. Our resident doctor just jolted me out of a severe depression. She's given me a riddle."
     
     
"A riddle, sair?"
     
     
"Yes. Tell me, what do saber, quarterstaff and chopsticks have in common?"
     
     
"I heven't any idea, sair." Chekov still did not seem convinced of his sanity. "Perheps if you esk Mr. Spock?"
     
     
"That is a wonderful suggestion, Mr. Chekov. I'll do it at the earliest opportunity." If only, he thought to himself, to see Spock's reaction.
     
     
Like the Eeiauoans, Nurse Chapel continued her work even as her ADF syndrome worsened. McCoy was worried. The disease seemed to be progressing more rapidly in her than it did in an Eeiauoan. And according to the epidemiological reports he'd gotten, the same was true for other human victims as well.
     
     
He could not conceal the reports from her; he needed her help, and she needed to be helpful. He hid his concern in work, as she hid hers.
     
     
Even now, it cost her enormous effort to stand erect. Each movement she made was stiff with pain. McCoy could see the strain of it on her face.
     
     
Most of her hair was gone. She covered her head with a brightly colored scarf she'd found god knows where; McCoy knew he'd never seen it before. She'd asked and received his permission to exchange her uniform for a loose-fitting caftan that did less to irritate the raw patches of skin that were appearing all over her body.
     
     
She slid a rack of culture plates from the incubator and said, "Still no sign of ADF." Bringing them into better light, she inspected them again. "The human and Eeiauoan tissue cultures are already beginning to show signs of the increased toxin production indicative of ADF, but not Snarl's. And there are still no reports of any of her people contracting the syndrome. Snarl may have a natural immunity that we can take advantage of- if we can find out what factor causes it. I did a complete biochemical workup of a sample to compare with human and Eeiauoan work-ups, but it'll be a few hours before the computer is done with the correlations."
     
     
Biochemistry was Chapel's field, and McCoy was never so glad of it as he had been the past few months. "Good girl," he said. "You might be on to something there. Now why don't you get some rest while you're waitin' for that mechanical monster to gobble your data, Christine?"
     
     
She shook her head and gave him Quickfoot's reply. "That will come all too soon, Doctor."
     
     
McCoy said, "That's an order, Nurse Chapel