"Just answer the question please. Uncooperative subjects waste valuable computer time."

  "Yes," Hall said, subdued. When he had joined the Wildfire team, he had undergone immunizations for everything imaginable, even plague and cholera, which had to be renewed every six months, and gamma-globulin shots for viral infection.

  "Have you ever contracted tuberculosis or other mycobacterial disease, or had a positive skin test for tuberculosis?

  "No."

  "Have you ever contracted syphilis or other spirochetal disease, or had a positive serological test for syphilis?"

  "No."

  "Have you contracted within the past year any gram-positive bacterial infection, such as streptococcus, staphylococcus, or pneumococcus?"

  "No."

  "Any gram-negative infection, such as gonococcus, meningeococcus, proteus, pseudomonas, salmonella, or shigella?"

  "No."

  "Have you contracted any recent or past fungal infection, including blastomycosis, histoplasmosis, or coccidiomycosis, or had a positive skin test for any fungal disease?"

  "No."

  "Have you had any recent viral infection, including poliomyelitis, hepatitis, mononucleosis, mumps, measles, varicella, or herpes?"

  "No."

  "Any warts?"

  "No."

  "Have you any known allergies?"

  "Yes, to ragweed pollen."

  On the screen appeared the words:

  ROGEEN PALEN

  And then after a moment:

  UNCODABLE RESPONSE

  "Please repeat your response slowly for our memory cells." Very distinctly, he said, "Ragweed pollen." On the screen:

  RAGWEED POLLEN    

  CODED

  "Are you allergic to albumen?" continued the voice.

  "No."

  "This ends the formal questions. Please undress and return to the couch, obliterating the points as before."

  He did so. A moment later, an ultraviolet lamp swung out on a long arm and moved close to his body. Next to the lamp was some kind of scanning eye. Watching the screen he could see the computer print of the scan, beginning with his feet.

  [graphic of a foot]

  "This is a scan for fungus," the voice announced. After several minutes, Hall was ordered to lie on his stomach, and the process was repeated. He was then told to lie on his back once more and align himself with the dots.

  "Physical parameters will now be measured," the voice said. "You are requested to lie quietly while the examination is conducted."

  A variety of leads snaked out at him and were attached by mechanical hands to his body. Some he could understand the half-dozen leads over his chest for an electrocardiogram, and twenty-one on his head for an electroencephalogram. But others were fixed on his stomach, his arms, and his legs.

  "Please raise your left hand," said the voice.

  Hall did. From above, a mechanical hand came down, with an electric eye fixed on either side of it. The mechanical hand examined Hall's.

  "Place your hand on the board to the left. Do not move. You will feel a slight prick as the intravenous needle is inserted."

  Hall looked over at the screen. It flashed a color image of his hand, with the veins showing in a pattern of green against a blue background. Obviously the machine worked by sensing heat. He was about to protest when he felt a brief sting.

  He looked back. The needle was in.

  "Now then, just lie quietly. Relax."

  For fifteen seconds, the machinery whirred and clattered. Then the leads were withdrawn. The mechanical hands placed a neat Band-Aid over the intravenous puncture.

  "This completes your physical parameters," the voice said.

  "Can I get dressed now?"

  "Please sit up with your right shoulder facing the television screen. You will receive pneumatic injections."

  A gun with a thick cable came out of one wall, pressed up against the skin of his shoulder, and fired. There was a hissing sound and a brief pain.

  "Now you may dress," said the voice. "Be advised that you may feel dizzy for a few hours. You have received booster immunizations and gamma G. If you feel dizzy, sit down. If you suffer systemic effects such as nausea, vomiting, or fever, report at once to Level Control. Is that clear?"

  "Yes."

  "The exit is to your right. Thank you for your cooperation. This recording is now ended."

  ***

  Hall walked with Leavitt down a long red corridor. His arm ached from the injection.

  "That machine," Hall said. "You'd better not let the AMA find out about it."

  "We haven't," Leavitt said.

  In fact, the electronic body analyzer had been developed by Sandeman Industries in 1965, under a general government contract to produce body monitors for astronauts in space. It was understood by the government at that time that such a device, though expensive at a cost of $87,000 each, would eventually replace the human physician as a diagnostic instrument. The difficulties, for both doctor and patient, of adjusting to this new machine were recognized by everyone. The government did not plan to release the EBA until 1971 and then only to certain large hospital facilities.

  Walking along the corridor, Hall noticed that the walls were slightly curved.

  "Where exactly are we?"

  "On the perimeter of Level 1. To our left are all the laboratories. To the right is nothing but solid rock."

  Several people were walking in the corridor. Everyone wore pink jumpsuits. They all seemed serious and busy.

  "Where are the others on the team?" Hall said.

  "Right here," Leavitt said. He opened a door marked CONFERENCE 7, and they entered a room with a large hardwood table. Stone was there, standing stiffly erect and alert, as if he had just taken a cold shower. Alongside him, Burton, the pathologist, somehow appeared sloppy and confused, and there was a kind of tired fright in his eyes.

  They all exchanged greetings and sat down. Stone reached into his pocket and removed two keys. One was silver, the other red. The red one had a chain attached to it. He gave it to Hall.

  "Put it around your neck, " he said.

  Hall looked at it. "What's this?"

  Leavitt said, "I'm afraid Mark is still unclear about the Odd Man."

  "I thought that he would read it on the plane."

  "His file was edited."

  "I see." Stone turned to Hall. "You know nothing about the Odd Man?"

  "Nothing," Hall said, frowning at the key.

  "Nobody told you that a major factor in your selection to the team was your single status?"

  "What does that have to do--"

  "The fact of the matter is," Stone said, "that you are the Odd Man. You are the key to all this. Quite literally."

  He took his own key and walked to a corner of the room. He pushed a hidden button and the wood paneling slid away to reveal a burnished metal console. He inserted his key into a lock and twisted it. A green light on the console flashed on; he stepped back. The paneling slid into place.

  "At the lowest level of this laboratory is an automatic atomic self-destruct device," Stone said. "It is controlled from within the laboratory. I have just inserted my key and armed the mechanism. The device is ready for detonation. The key on this level cannot be removed; it is now locked in place. Your key, on the other hand, can be inserted and removed again. There is a three-minute delay between the time detonation locks in and the time the bomb goes off. That period is to provide you time to think, and perhaps call it all off."

  Hall was still frowning. "But why me?"

  "Because you are single. We have to have one unmarried man."

  Stone opened a briefcase and withdrew a file. He gave it to Hall. "Read that."

  It was a Wildfire file.

  "Page 255," Stone said.

  Hall turned to it.

  Project: Wildfire

  ALTERATIONS

  1. Millipore(R) Filters, insertion into ventilatory system. Initial spec filters unilayer styrilene, with maximal efficiency of 97.4% trapping. Replaced in 1966 when Upjohn developed filters capable of trapping organisms of size up to one micron. Trapping at 90% efficiency per leaf, causing triple-layered membrance to give results of 99.9%. Infective ratio of .1% remainder too low to be harmful. Cost factor of four or five-layered membrance removing all but .001% considered prohibitive for added gain. Tolerance parameter of 1/1,000 considered sufficient. Installation completed 8/12/66.

  2. Atomic Self-Destruct Device, change in detonator close-gap timers. See AEC/Def file 77-12-0918.

  3. Atomic Self-Destruct Device, revision of core maintenance schedules for K technicians, see AEC/Warburg file 77-14-0004.

  4. Atomic Self-Destruct Device, final command decision change. See AEC/Def file 77-14-0023. SUMMARY APPENDED.

  SUMMARY OF ODD MAN HYPOTHESIS: First tested as null hypothesis by Wildfire advisory committee. Grew out of tests conducted by USAF (NORAD) to determine reliability of commanders in making life/death decisions. Tests involved decisions in ten scenario contexts, with prestructured alternatives drawn up by Walter Reed Psychiatric Division, after n-order test analysis by biostatistics unit, NIH, Bethesda.

  Test given to SAC pilots and groundcrews, NORAD workers, and others involved in decision-making or positive-action capacity. Ten scenarios drawn up by Hudson Institute; subjects required-- to make YES/NO decision in each case. Decisions always involved thermonuclear or chem-biol destruction of enemy targets.

  Data on 7420 subjects tested by H,H, program for multifactorial analysis of variance; later test by ANOVAR program; final discrimination by CLASSIF program. NIH biostat summarizes this program as follows:

  It is the object of this program to determine the effectiveness of assigning individuals to distinct groups on the basis of scores which can be quantified. The program produces group contours and probability of classification for individuals as a control of data.

  Program prints: mean scores for groups, contour confidence limits, and scores of individual test subjects.

  K.G. Borgrand, Ph.D. NIH

  RESULTS OF ODD MAN STUDY: The study concluded that married individuals performed differently from single individuals on several parameters of the test. Hudson Institute provided mean answers, i.e. theoretical "right" decisions, made by computer on basis of data given in scenario. Conformance of study groups to these right answers produced an index of effectiveness, a measure of the extent to which correct decisions were made.

  Group: Index of Effectiveness

  Married males: .343

  Married females: .399

  Single females: .402

  Single males: .824

  The data indicate that married men choose the correct decision only once in three times, while single men choose correctly four out of five times. The group of single males was then broken down further, in search of highly accurate subgroups within that classification. Results of special testing confirm the Odd Man Hypothesis, that an unmarried male should carry out command decisions involving thermonuclear or chem-biol destruct contexts.

  Single males, total: .824

  Military:

  commissioned officer: .655

  noncommissioned officer: .624

  Technical:

  engineers: .877

  ground crews: .901

  Service:

  maintenance and utility: .758

  Professional:

  Scientists: .946

  These results concerning the relative skill of decision-making individuals should not be interpreted hastily.  Although it would appear that janitors are better decision makers than generals, the situation is in reality more complex.  PRINTED SCORES ARE SUMMATIONS OF TEST AND INDIVIDUAL VARIATIONS. DATA MUST BE INTERPRETED WITH THIS IN MIND. Failure to do so may lead to totally erroneous and dangerous assumptions.

  Application of study to Wildfire command personnel conducted at request of AEC at time of implantation of self-destruct nuclear capacity.  Test given to all Wildfire personnel; results filed under CLASSIF WILDFIRE: GENERAL PERSONNEL (see ref. 77-14-0023).  Special testing for command group.

  Name: Index of Effectiveness

  Burton: .543

  Leavitt: .601

  Kirke: .614

  Stone: .687

  Hall: .899

  Results of special testing confirm the Odd Man Hypothesis, that an unmarried male should carry out command decisions involving thermonuclear or chem-biol destruct contexts.
  
  When Hall had finished reading, he said, "It's crazy."

  "Nonetheless," Stone said, "it was the only way we could get the government to put control of the weapon in our hands.

  "You really expect me to put in my key, and fire that thing?"

  "I'm afraid you don't understand," Stone said. "The detonation mechanism is automatic. Should breakthrough of the organism occur, with contamination of all Level V, detonation will take place within three minutes unless you lock in your key, and call it off."

  "Oh," Hall said, in a quiet voice.

  11. Decontamination

  A BELL RANG SOMEWHERE ON THE LEVEL; STONE glanced up at the wall clock. It was late. He began the formal briefing, talking rapidly, pacing up and down the room, hands moving constantly.

  "As you know," he said, "we are on the top level of a five-story underground structure. According to protocol it will take us nearly twenty-four hours to descend through the sterilization and decontamination procedures to the lowest level. Therefore we must begin immediately. The capsule is already on its way."

  He pressed a button on a console at the head of the table, and a television screen glowed to life, showing the coneshaped satellite in a plastic bag, making its descent. It was being cradled by mechanical hands.

  "The central core of this circular building," Stone said, "contains elevators and service units-- plumbing, wiring, that sort of thing. That is where you see the capsule now. It will be deposited shortly in a maximum-sterilization assembly on the lowest level."

  He went on to explain that he had brought back two other surprises from Piedmont. The screen shifted to show Peter Jackson, lying on a litter, with intravenous lines running into both arms.

  "This man apparently survived the night. He was the one walking around when the planes flew over, and he was still alive this morning."

  "What's his status now?"

  "Uncertain," Stone said. "He is unconscious, and he was vomiting blood earlier today. We've started intravenous dextrose to keep him fed and hydrated until we can get down to the bottom."

  Stone flicked a button and the screen showed the baby. It was howling, strapped down to a tiny bed. An intravenous bottle was running into a vein in the scalp.

  "This little fellow also survived last night," Stone said. "So we brought him along. We couldn't really leave him, since a Directive 7-12 was being called. The town is now destroyed by a nuclear blast. Besides, he and Jackson are living clues which may help us unravel this mess."

  Then, for the benefit of Hall and Leavitt, the two men disclosed what they had seen and learned at Piedmont. They reviewed the findings of rapid death, the bizarre suicides, the clotted arteries and the lack of bleeding.

  Hall listened in astonishment. Leavitt sat shaking his head.

  When they were through, Stone said, "Questions?"

  "None that won't keep," Leavitt said.

  "Then let's get started," Stone said.

  ***

  They began at a door, which said in plain white letters: TO LEVEL II It was an innocuous, straightforward, almost mundane sign. Hall had expected something more-- perhaps a stern guard with a machine gun, or a sentry to check passes. But there was nothing, and he noticed that no one had badges, or clearance cards of any kind.

  He mentioned this to Stone. "Yes," Stone said. "We decided against badges early on. They are easily contaminated and difficult to sterilize; usually they are plastic and high-heat sterilization melts them."

  The four men passed through the door, which clanged shut heavily and sealed with a hissing sound. It was airtight. Hall faced a tiled room, empty except for a hamper marked I 'clothing." He unzipped his jumpsuit and dropped it into the hamper; there was a brief flash of light as it was incinerated.

  Then, looking back, he saw that on the door through which he had come was a sign: "Return to Level I is NOT Possible Through this Access."

  He shrugged. The other men were already moving through the second door, marked simply EXIT. He followed them and stepped into clouds of steam. The odor was peculiar, a faint woodsy smell that he guessed was scented disinfectant. He sat down on a bench and relaxed, allowing the steam to envelop him. It was easy enough to understand the purpose of the steam room: the heat opened the pores, and the steam would be inhaled into the lungs.

  The four men waited, saying little, until their bodies were coated with a sheen of moisture, and then walked into the next room.

  Leavitt said to Hall, "What do you think of this?"

  "It's like a goddam Roman bath," Hall said.

  The next room contained a shallow tub ("Immerse Feet ONLY") and a shower. ("Do not swallow shower solution. Avoid undue exposure to eyes and mucous membranes.") It was all very intimidating. He tried to guess what the solutions were by smell, but failed; the shower was slippery, though, which meant it was alkaline. He asked Leavitt about this, and Leavitt said the solution was alpha chlorophin at pH 7.7. Leavitt said that whenever possible, acidic and alkaline solutions were alternated.

  "When you think about it," Leavitt said, "we've faced up to quite a planning problem here. How to disinfect the human body-- one of the dirtiest things in the known universe-- without killing the person at the same time. Interesting.

  He wandered off. Dripping wet from the shower, Hall looked around for a towel but found none. He entered the next room and blowers turned on from the ceiling in a rush of hot air. From the sides of the room, UV lights clicked on, bathing the room in an intense purple light. He stood there until a buzzer sounded, and the dryers turned off. His skin tingled slightly as he entered the last room, which contained clothing. They were not jumpsuits, but rather like surgical uniforms-- light-yellow, a loose-fitting top with a V-neck and short sleeves; elastic banded pants; low rubber-soled shoes, quite comfortable, like ballet slippers.

  The cloth was soft, some kind of synthetic. He dressed and stepped with the others through a door marked EXIT TO LEVEL II. He entered the elevator and waited as it descended.