By morning, the Guardian Complex was in full infection-investigation mode. Nervous interns from the Ward had been sent out armed with code samplers and descriptions of the symptoms. A public relations team at Headquarters explained the lockdown to the media. Turbo's teams had tracked down the random-light artist and taken her into custody. And someone had set up a message relay of running cadets.

It was a second-level cadet who delivered Wayne's wakeup call and his morning messages. "Doctor MacHewlett?"

"Umf." Wayne grunted, then opened his eyes and looked around. The walls of his office swam into focus. "Hm?"

"Sorry to wake you, Doctor, but the short nurse out there told me it was almost time for your rounds."

"That would be Lil," Wayne murmured.

"Yes, sir," the cadet answered respectfully. "I have several messages for you, if you don't mind, Doctor."

Wayne rubbed his eyes and sat up on the battered office sofa. "Go ahead."

The cadet ticked off the messages on his fingers. "Your next-door neighbor says she heard about the lockdown and not to worry about your dog. Turbo wants a progress report. The PR department wants to know if you have a statement ready yet. And Lil says your breakfast is getting cold and Argus is jumping on his bed again."

"Sounds about right," Wayne said resignedly. "I guess all the communications channels are overloaded? Or is Turbo being paranoid?"

"Turbo didn't want anything important leaking out, sir."

"All right. Can I send some messages with you, then?"

"Yes, sir."

Wayne smiled at the earnest youngster. "Thank Mrs. Mulcahy for looking after Roscoe. Tell both Turbo and the PR department that I haven't got anything new this morning." He got up and stretched. "Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, if you need an excuse to take a break, tell your squad leader I kept you for an examination." Wayne rose from the sofa. "Don't let 'em run you to deletion."

The cadet grinned. "Thanks, Doctor."

Lil, carrying a tray in her hands and dark circles under her eyes, barged in without ceremony. The cadet took one look at the nurse and fled.

"You. Eat. Now." Lil put the tray down on the desk and flopped down on Wayne's sofa. "If those dishes aren't spotless when I wake up—"

"Don't even say it, I don't want to know," Wayne said, dropping into his desk chair and picking up his fork. He took a bite and grimaced. "Ugh. I hate hospital food."

"Argus, I don't have time to play this game." Wayne folded his arms and watched his patient bounce on the bed.

"Then turn me loose, Doc!" Argus slammed a fist into the wall. "I can't just sit here!" He launched another punch. There was nothing playful in his manner this cycle.

Wayne's jaw tightened for an instant, then relaxed. "All right, you want something to do? Come with me."

Argus turned in surprise, then jumped off the bed. "Sure, Doc. Anything you want." He hopped in place with his towel-wrapped fists held just below his chin.

Wayne lifted a quizzical eyebrow, then turned and left the room, leaving Argus to hop along after him.

Wayne led Argus to the quarantine lab, and keyed the door open. "You're going to help coordinate the samples. Whatever the people in here tell you to do, you do. You follow contamination protocols like everyone else. Got it?"

"Got it, Doc. Thanks."

Katie, her face still bruised, approached as Argus went to sit down at a workstation. "Doctor MacHewlett?" she asked, her brow furrowed. "Shouldn't he be in bed?"

Wayne nodded wearily. "He should be, but one side effect of the Guardian protocol is an inability to let someone else handle a crisis. We may as well make use of that. Let him do the cataloguing for you. Keep him busy and keep him off that foot. If he gets to be more of a nuisance than he's worth, threaten to send him back downstairs. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Doctor." Katie smiled. "I can do that."

"Good. Stay frosty, Katie. Take a break whenever you need to."

"I will, Doctor." Her eyes shone with what could only be called hero-worship.

For her sake, Wayne returned Katie's smile. Then he left the lab and went to start his rounds.

The halls of the Ward were busier than usual. The staff hurried back and forth among messenger cadets and interns trotting in and out of the lab with racks full of code samplers. Adding to the confusion was the fact that some of the early-shift staff had showed up for work despite the quarantine, causing arguments among the exhausted third shift as to who got to sleep first. The winners dragged themselves into every unused corner and went to sleep in spare beds, the break rooms, on waiting-room sofas, and in some cases on the floor with a pillow filched from the supply room. The losers tried to coordinate with the first shift to cover all the work. To top it off, punchy-tired laughter had suddenly become a cause for suspicion. Sprites whose eyes had been green since they were coprocessed found themselves undergoing complete scans, plus microseconds of questioning. Nerves frayed and patience wore thin.

The atmosphere in the quarantine lab was even tighter than that of the Ward in general. Despite the efforts of doctors, nurses, interns, and Argus, the infection remained a mystery. Samples from the twenty-two cadets in quarantine showed no signs of viral activity. Thorough tests and questioning of the artist in custody only confirmed the symptoms—random bursts of laughter, green eyes, and moments of apparently-viral abilities. Wayne wasn't the only one regularly glancing at his reflection on any polished surface.

Turbo called in the middle of the afternoon. "You can lift the quarantine now, Wayne."

"What? Turbo—"

"We just got confirmation. It's everywhere." Turbo looked and sounded like he hadn't slept at all the night before. "I think you should see this for yourself."

"On my way," Wayne answered shortly. He closed the vidwindow and rose.

"Wait, Doc," Argus said, struggling to his feet. "I want to hear this, too."

"You stay here," Wayne commanded.

Argus looked up, startled. He searched the doctor's face for a moment, then sank back into his chair without protest. The other sprites in the room sat absolutely still, their bodies tense and their eyes on Wayne, who'd shed his good-natured patience with three words. Katie's mouth was open.

Wayne took a deep breath, let it out, then said in a deliberately gentler tone, "I'm going to see what Turbo's got. Everyone take a break until I get back." He turned and left without a backward glance.

Argus was the first to speak after the door closed behind Wayne. "That was no med protocol talking." He got up.

"What was it?" Katie squeaked.

Argus shook his head. "I'm not sure, but they say it does strange things to a sprite to give up the Guardian protocol."