We waited, Rogere with his head hanging and coughing horribly. Two minutes, four. I then rubbed the foam frosted wall-certain I'd find a clean area among the pustules.

I almost wept. The dots had grown to half a centimeter. A distinct stalk could be seen stretching up out of the flat cone of black fibers that could not be destroyed. There was something, a grain or something at the tip of the pale stalk.

Horrified, I turned to Rogere who was raising himself up from his ...