"And get a doctor ready--a bunch of them," he finished. "I seem to have
picked up something like a disease."

There was a long delay before an answer came this time--more than five
minutes. The hand on the key was obviously different, slower and not as
steady. "What symptoms, Adams? Give all details!"

He began, giving all the information he had, from the first itching
through the rash and the fever. Again, longer this time, the main
station hesitated.

"Anything I can do about it now?" Bill asked, finally. "And how about
having those doctors ready?"

"We're checking with Medical," the signals answered. "We're.... Here's
their report. Not enough data--could be anything. Dozens of diseases
like that. Nothing you can do, except try salt water gargle and spray;
you've got stuff for that. Wash off rash with soap and hot water,
followed by some of your hypo. We'll get a medical kit up to the Moon
for you."

He let that sink in, then clicked back: "The _Moon_?"

"You think you can land here with whatever you've got, man? There's no
way of knowing how contagious it is. And keep an hourly check with us.
If you pass out, we'll try to get someone out in a Moon rocket to pick
you up. But we can't risk danger of infecting the whole planet. You're
quarantined on the Moon--we'll send up landing instructions later--not
even for Luna Base, but where there will be no chance of contamination
for others. You didn't really expect to come back here, did you, Adams?"

He should have thought of it. He knew that. And he knew that the words
from Earth weren't as callous as they sounded. Down there, men would
be sweating with him, going crazy trying to do something. But they were
right. Earth had to be protected first; Bill Adams was only one out of
two and a half billions, even if he had reached a planet before any
other man.

Yeah, it was fine to be a hero. But heroes shouldn't menace the rest of
the world.

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