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dozen or so of the creatures flying crazily to and fro； bumping； falling； fluttering up again。 No more had died during the night； and that didn't add up。 Either the virus was dead； they were immune to it； or else the incubation period in these last few was longer。
'About last night。 。 。 ' he began； clearing his throat。
'I slept well； thank you；' she replied icily without glancing up。 'Now； if you will excuse me； Professor； there are certain items which I must go and collect from the stores。。。。'
'Now listen to me！' he snapped； his level of anger rising fast。 Women had cursed him hundreds of times over the years； pleaded with him； cried； but none had ever treated him with indifference。
She ignored him and turned in the direction of the door。
'I said listen to me！' his hand shot out； grasping her by the shoulder and turning her round to face him。 'There are one or two things we've got to get ironed out。'
'I have no idea what you're talking about； professor。' Only her eyes gave away her innermost feelings； bitterness that an outward show of indifference could not cloak。
'You know damned well what I'm talking about！' he rasped。 'About last night at the Shoal Hill Tavern。'
'Oh； so you went drinking； did you？'
'And that wasn't all；' his voice was raised。 'I was with a bird。 And I was going to screw her only you stopped me！ You put me off my stroke！'
'Me？'
'Yes； you。 Out on a snooping trip。 Well； I don't blame you； but I can't stand liars。'
'Neither can I； Professor。 And just lately you've been telling quite a few yourself。' Her self…control began to snap； and she added savagely； 'You think you're God's gift to women； don't you； Brian Newman？ Well； let me tell you this。 All you're trying to do is prove something to yourself； though God knows what。 Maybe 'conquer and move on' is your motto。 Well； I'm not standing for it。 You thought you could drive me off； didn't you？ That I'd pack and run？ Well； I'm not leaving the Centre。 'I'm not giving up a good job because of you。 I'll move out of your bungalow so you can have her in the bed all to yourself； but I'm staying right here in this very lab as far as work goes。 I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of seeing me go to Haynes and ask for a transfer to Rickers's lab。 The pair of you would love that； in your own warped ways； but I'm staying put； bats and all。 But lay one finger on me again； try to get familiar with me； and I'll be lodging an official plaint that will really put paid to your career。 You've got me with you all the time in an official capacity； and nothing more； whether you like it or not！'
'You bitch！' His left hand went back； and before he could stop himself he had struck her across the face with a resounding slap。
She staggered back； tears filling her eyes； gasping with pain。 He stood aghast； mouth opening to voice an apology。
Suddenly everything seemed to explode inside her； and she was hurling herself at him； beating at his body with clenched fists； tearing； scratching； biting； kicking。 He staggered back； Susan Wylie clinging on to him； screaming insults at him；
'Damn your he yelled。 'I'll teach you a lesson you won't forget。 I'll。。 。' His words trailed off as his back met with something solid but movable。 The table。 He felt the nearside legs being lifted clear of the floor； objects sliding； crashing； splintering； fragments of glass tinkling。 In desperation he pushed her away from him； and even as he turned he saw guinea…pigs and other rodents scampering about； frightened； bewildered by their unexpected freedom；
'Oh； God！' he gasped。
Something flew past his face； a rush of air from tiny wings fanning him。 Another。 And another。
'The bats！' he cried； his face turning a deathly white。 'The bats have escaped！'
Susan Wylie backed away。 It was true。 The cage of death was lying in splinters； the bats which had died from the mutated virus spilled beneath it。 Yet it was the living ones which brought a cry of terror to her lips。 They were flying crazily about the room； cannoning into walls； getting up again； jinking； swerving。 One hit a row of test…tubes and sent them showering to the floor。
'Under the table！' Brian Newman grabbed her around the waist； dragging her down beneath the long table with him。 'Keep still！ They're not after us。 It's just that their radars are damaged and they've no sense of direction。'
The high…pitched squeaking was much louder now that the tiny creatures were free of their cage。 Newman and Susan heard them striking against the windows。 Sooner or later they must find the open one。 More breaking glass。
'The window's gone。 The big one！' Brian Newman gasped。 'The pane must have been cracked or faulty。 They'd never break it otherwise。'
The ining fresh air seemed to attract the bats。 Whereas their disturbed radars had previously forced them to fly aimlessly； panic…stricken； now they scented freedom。 In a matter of seconds they had gone； speeding across the Chase like jet…propelled butterflies； lost to the view of the two people who stared after them through the shattered window of the laboratory。
'Well； they're gone；' Brian Newman slipped an arm around Susan； and this time she made no attempt to squirm from his grasp。 'I'm sorry；' she said weakly。 'It wasn't your fault。 I shouldn't have hit you。' 'What are we going to do now？'
Newman looked around the lab； noting the slivers of broken glass on the floor； the smashed cages； mice and guinea…pigs scuttling fearfully to and fro。
'Well； I guess we'll have to tell Haynes the whole truth now；' he said； 'and we can only pray that the virus died in those victims； and that the bats which escaped are neither infected nor carriers。 Otherwise 。 。 。 ' He shook his head slowly； and his expression was grave。 If the virus had been carried from the Biological Research Centre； then the possible consequences did not bear thinking about。 Voices in the corridor outside interrupted them。 Someone was banging on the door。
'What's happening in there？ Are you all right； New…man？' It was Haynes's voice。
Brian Newman strode to the door and unlocked it。 Haynes； Professor Rickers…a tall； balding man with rimless spectacles…and the night…porter； who had been just on the point of going off duty； crowded into the small laboratory。
'What the hell；' Haynes's face took on a deep flush as he surveyed the wreckage；
'There's been an accident；' Newman said。 'I slipped and overturned the table。'
'You'd better get these rodents caught quickly；' Haynes snapped； noting two or three white mice running around the perimeter of the room。
Professor Newman closed the door and leaned up against it； looking at the others。 'I think we've got a lot of talking to do；' he said softly。
'Talking？' Haynes glanced at him with a puzzled expression on his face。
'I think Johnson was just going off duty；' Newman nodded to the porter。 'We don't need to delay him。'
Johnson grunted； and Newman opened the door to let him out。 He could not take any risk of wild stories finding their way into civvy street。
'Now；' Haynes adjusted his spectacles and glared at the bacteriologist； 'perhaps you'd tell me just what the hell is going on。'
In a few words Newman explained about the mutated virus and the fact that about a dozen bats； possibly carrying the disease； were loose upon Cannock Chase。
'Impossible；' Rickers snapped。
'I wish it was impossible；' Newman retorted。 'But the first thing we've got to do is to carry out tests on the dead bats and try to determine the extent of this virus。'
'Well； let's get cracking；1 Haynes glanced at Rickers； 'I suggest that Professor Rickers carries out the post…mortems here and now。'
'Fair enough；' Newman replied； 'but I suggest we all wear rubber gloves and protective clothing。 From what I've seen these last few days we're dealing with a virulent disease which could be capable of striking us all down。'
Somewhat reluctantly Professor Rickers donned a white coat and gauze mask；； the others following suit。 Brian Newman stood back。 He was content to be a spectator from now on； as he was confident that whatever there was to be found inside the dead bats； Rickers would find it。
For the next hour the three of them watched Rickers working painstakingly； dissecting bat after bat； examining entrails with the aid of a microscope； making notes on a scrap of paper； scraping furry remains into a plastic bag； and then starting on another tiny corpse。 They could not see his expression behind the mask； and not once did he indicate his findings。
Finally； with every bat dissected and the remnants enclosed in the waste bag； Rickers removed his mask and gloves and turned to the others。 His expression alighted briefly on Newman； disbelief and mockery in his eyes。
'These bats died of a brain disease；' Rickers said。 'Meningitis； which is what they were injected with anyway； so that's ha