"Isn't it just possible that he was right?" Chase said, and from the corner of his eye noticed that Binch was staring moodily into his glass, lower lip jutting out. It was bloody infuriating not to know what DELFI was predicting. If a hardened skeptic like Bill Inchcape was starting to have doubts, then the data must be pretty hair-raising. He'd have given a lot for just one peek at the DELFI files.
"Who else are you seeing?" Ruth asked, trying to steer the conversation into less choppy waters.
"Some people on the West Coast at UCLA and Scripps. And if there's time I'd like to go up to Oregon. They have an enlightened attitude toward environmental issues up there, I believe."
"Do you have a contact at Scripps?" Binch asked.
"Dr. Cheryl Detrick, Theo Detrick's daughter."
"Right," Binch nodded. "Read some of her stuff in, what was it,
Frank Kollar nursed his drink, shoulders hunched forward. He laughed suddenly, for no apparent reason. "Yeah, knew her pretty well, as a matter of fact. We did some work together and other things." He cocked an eyebrow in Chase's direction. "Cheryl's another environmental freak."
Ruth glanced at him disapprovingly, and as if in apology, said to Chase, "Frank thinks all environmentalists are antiscience, that they want to turn the clock back and return civilization to the Stone Age, and he doesn't believe that's possible or practicable."
"Frank is right," Chase said. "But on the contrary I want to use science to solve our problems. The way I see it, science is ethically neutral; it's scientists who have ethics--or lack them. Science should be used for the benefit of mankind, not its detriment."
"I bet you were a boy scout too," Frank Kollar said, grinning.
Chase didn't respond. He'd argued and discussed the subject with better exponents than Frank Kollar, and he wasn't going to lay himself on the line merely to provide entertainment value.
Binch examined the glowing tip of his cigarette. "I honestly don't think scientists should get involved in that area. I do my job and let somebody else worry about the ethical rights and wrongs."
"Maybe you should worry about it," his wife put in quietly.
"And wind up like Brad Zittel? Not for me, no thanks." Binch stubbed out his cigarette and helped himself to more brandy.
Some remark or other had sent Ruth off on a private line of thought, and now she voiced it. "My fear is that while we're disposing of many of the old diseases we might be creating a stack of new ones. We've got a case at the hospital at the moment that's very disturbing from a clinical point of view. It could be environmentally related, though we can't figure out how."
"What's that?" Chase asked.
"A case of cloracne."
Chase stared at her. He couldn't believe he'd heard correctly. "You mean dioxin poisoning?"
Ruth nodded. The light from the patio doors cast spiky shadows from her eyelashes across her cheekbones. Her lower lip was underlined with sensuous shadow. "In actual fact," she went on reluctantly, "we've had three cases. Nobody suspected dioxin poisoning at first, naturally, and it wasn't until we'd eliminated everything else that we hit on it. But the tests confirm it. There's no mistake."
Chase was sitting up in the lounge. "To the best of my knowledge there hasn't been a single case of dioxin poisoning for the last seven years. Have you been able to trace the source?"
"No. The general consensus is that it's most likely agricultural. All three cases come from southeast of here, beyond Denver, which is mainly--in fact exclusively--farmland."
The others had been listening intently to this, and Binch said, "How serious is this, Ruth? Is it likely to spread, become an epidemic?"
"We're not sure yet. It depends how many other cases turn up over the next two to three weeks."
Chase begged to differ. "Ruth, that's one hell of an understatement," he protested. "Dioxin is the most toxic substance known. One tablet the size of an aspirin can kill 350 people. If there's even the most minute leakage of a dioxin compound the risk is serious for everybody within a hundred miles."
"You mean we could all be
