The Scottish news came on before the UK bulletin.

The death of Michael Ross was still the top story, but the report was introduced by a newsreader, not Carl Osborne. That was a good sign, Toni thought hopefully. There was no more of Carl's laughably inaccurate science. The virus was correctly named as Madoba-2. The anchor was careful to point out that Michael's death would be investigated by the sheriff at an inquest.

"So far, so good," Stanley murmured.

Toni said, "It looks to me as if a senior news executive watched Carl Osborne's sloppy report over breakfast and came in to the office determined to sharpen up the coverage."

The picture switched to the gates of the Kremlin. "Animal-rights campaigners took advantage of the tragedy to stage a protest outside Oxenford Medical," the anchor said. Toni was pleasantly surprised. That sentence was more favorable than she would have hoped. It implied the demonstrators were cynical media manipulators.

After a brief shot of the demo, the report cut to the Great Hall. Toni heard her own voice, sounding more Scots than she expected, outlining the security system at the laboratory. This was not very effective, she realized: just a voice droning on about alarms and guards. It might have been better to let the cameras film the air-lock entrance to BSL4, with its fingerprint recognition system and submarine doors. Pictures were always better than words.

Then there was a shot of Carl Osborne asking, "Exactly what danger did this rabbit pose to the general public?"

Toni leaned forward on the couch. This was the crunch.

They played the interchange between Carl and Stanley, with Carl posing disaster scenarios and Stanley saying how unlikely they were. This was bad, Toni knew. The audience would remember the idea of wildlife becoming infected, even though Stanley had said firmly that it was not possible.

On the screen, Carl said, "But Michael could have given the virus to other people."

Stanley replied gravely, "By sneezing, yes."

Unfortunately, they cut the exchange at that point.

Stanley muttered, "Bloody hell."

"It's not over yet," Toni said. It could get better-or worse.

Toni hoped they would show her hasty intervention, when she had tried to counter the impression of complacency by saying that Oxenford Medical was not trying to downplay the risk. But, instead, there was a shot of Susan Mackintosh on the phone, with a voice-over explaining how the company was calling every employee to check whether they had had contact with Michael Ross. That was all right, Toni thought with relief. The danger was bluntly stated, but the company was shown taking positive action.

The final press conference shot was a close-up of Stanley, looking responsible, saying, "In time, we will defeat influenza, and AIDS, and even cancer-and it will be done by scientists like us, working in laboratories such as this."

"That's good," Toni said.

"Will it outweigh the dialogue with Osborne, about infecting wildlife?"

"I think so. You look so reassuring.'

Then there was a shot of the canteen staff giving out steaming hot drinks to the demonstrators in the snow. "Great-they used it!" said Toni.

"I didn't see this," Stanley said. "Whose idea was it?"

"Mine."

Carl Osborne thrust a microphone into the face of a woman employee and said, "These people are demonstrating against your company. Why are you giving them coffee?"

"Because it's cold out here," the woman replied.

Toni and Stanley laughed, delighted with the woman's wit and the positive way it reflected on the company.

The anchor reappeared and said, "The First Minister of Scotland issued a statement this morning, saying, 'I have today spoken to representatives of Oxenford Medical, the Inverburn police, and the Inverburn regional health authority, and I am satisfied that everything possible is being done ro ensure that there is no further danger to the public' And now other news."

Toni said, "My God, I think we saved the day."

"Giving out hot drinks was a great idea-when did you think of that?"

"At the last minute. Let's see what the UK news says."

In the main bulletin, the story of Michael Ross came second, after an earthquake in Russia. The report used some of the same footage, but without Carl Osborne, who was a personality only in Scotland. There was a clip of Stanley saying, "The virus is not very infectious across species. In order to infect Michael, we think the rabbit must have bitten him." There was a low-key statement from the British Environment Minister in London. The report continued the same unhysterical tone of the Scottish news. Toni was hugely relieved.

Stanley said, "It's good to know that not all journalists are like Carl Osborne."

"He asked me to have dinner with him." Toni wondered why she was idling him this.

Stanley looked surprised. "Ha la faccia peggio del culo!"he said. "Hell of a nerve."

She laughed. What he had actually said was "His face is worse than his arse," presumably one of Marta's expressions. "He's an attractive man," she said.

"You don't really think so, do you?"

"He's handsome, anyway." She realized she was trying to make him jealous. Don't play games, she told herself.

He said, "What did you say to him?"

"I turned him down, of course."

"I should think so, too." Stanley looked embarrassed and added, "Not that it's any of my business, but he's not worthy of you, not by a light-year." He returned his attention to the television and switched to an all-news channel.

They watched footage of Russian earthquake victims and rescue teams for a couple of minutes. Toni felt foolish for having told Stanley about Osborne, but pleased by his reaction.

The Michael Ross story followed, and once again the tone was coolly factual. Stanley turned off the set. "Well, we escaped crucifixion by TV."

"No newspapers tomorrow, as it's Christmas Day," Toni observed. "By Thursday the story will be old. I think we're in the clear-barring unexpected developments."

"Yes. If we lost another rabbit, we'd be right back in trouble."

"There will be no more security incidents at the lab," Toni said firmly. "I'll make sure of that."

Stanley nodded. "I have to say, you've handled this whole thing extraordinarily well. I'm very grateful to you."

Toni glowed. "We told the truth, and they believed us," she said.

They smiled at each other. It was a moment of happy intimacy. Then the phone rang.

Stanley reached across his desk and picked it up. "Oxenford," he said. "Yes, patch him through here, please, I'm keen to speak to him." He looked up at Toni and mouthed, "Mahoney."

Toni stood up nervously. She and Stanley were convinced they had controlled the publicity well-but would the U.S. government agree? She watched Stanley's face.

He spoke into the phone. "Hello again, Larry, did you watch the news?… I'm glad you think so… We've avoided the kind of hysterical reaction that you feared… You know my facilities director, Antonia Gallo-she handled the press… A great job, I agree… Absolutely right, we must keep a very tight grip on security from now on… yes. Good of you to call. Bye."

Stanley hung up and grinned at Toni. "We're in the clear." Exuberantly, he put his arms around her and hugged her.

She pressed her face into his shoulder. The tweed of his waistcoat was surprisingly soft. She breathed in the warm, faint smell of him, and realized it was a long time since she had been this close to a man. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back, feeling her breasts press against his chest.

She would have stayed like that forever, but after a few seconds he gently disengaged, looking bashful. As if to restore propriety, he shook her hand. "All credit to you," he said.

The brief moment of physical contact had aroused her. Oh, God, she thought, I'm wet, how could it happen so quickly?