Whoever they were and wherever they had been when the Confederation ship
had landed, there was unquestionably an intelligent race now inhabiting
this lonely planet in the outer reaches of the solar system of 31
Brucker. There was no doubt of their advancement; a few well-selected
questions revealed that they had control of atomic power, a working
understanding of the nature and properties of contra-terrene matter, and
a workable star drive operating on the same basic principle as Earth's
Koenig drive but which the Bruckians had never really used because of
their shyness and fear of contact with other races. They also had an
excellent understanding, thanks to their eavesdropping on Confederation
interstellar radio chatter, of the existence and functions of the
Galactic Confederation of worlds, and of Hospital Earth's work as
physician to the galaxy.

But about Bruckian anatomy, physiology or biochemistry, the little
emissary would tell them nothing. He seemed genuinely frightened when
they pressed him about the physical make-up of his people, as though
their questions were somehow scraping a raw nerve. He insisted that his
people knew nothing about the nature of the plague that had stricken
them, and the doctors could not budge him an inch from his stand.

But a plague had certainly struck.

It had begun six months before, striking great masses of the people. It
had walked the streets of the cities and the hills and valleys of the
countryside. First three out of ten had been stricken, then four, then
five. The course of the disease, once started, was invariably the same:
first illness, weakness, loss of energy and interest, then gradually a
fading away of intelligent responses, leaving thousands of creatures
walking blank-faced and idiot-like about the streets and countryside.