He stopped to rest and Lake waited.

“Beriberi⁠—pellagra⁠—we had deficiency diseases on Earth. But none so fatal⁠—so quickly. I told Bemmon⁠—ration out fruits and vegetables to everybody. Hurry⁠—or it will be too late.”

Again he stopped to rest, the last vestige of color gone from his face.

“And you?” Lake asked, already knowing the answer.

“For me⁠—too late. I kept thinking of viruses⁠—should have seen the obvious sooner. Just like⁠—”

His lips turned up a little at the corners and the Chiara of the dead past smiled for the last time at Lake.

“Just like a damned fool intern.⁠ ⁠…”

That was all, then, and the chamber was suddenly very quiet. Lake stood up to leave, and to speak the words that Chiara could never hear: