“We’re very paranoid about it,” Sullivan says.

In the 6th Precinct, a young police officer found herself frightened as she assisted a homosexual who had injured his head in a fall. She cradled the man’s head in her hands and attempted to slow the bleeding with a wad of napkins. She remembers, “At first, you feel itchy. The blood was the same color red, but I thought, 'Oh, wow, I wonder if this guy's got it.' Then I thought, 'Oh well, I can't let this guy bleed to death.' It was like a leper or something. You don't treat people like that, but the fear is there. I found myself scrubbing with peroxide."

During another tour, the officer arrested a man who had stolen some enamel plates from an antiques store in Greenwich Village. On the way to the station house, she rode in the backseat with her prisoner. She recalls, "He said, 'I've got AIDS.' I said, 'Gee, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'd think you'd find a better way to spend the rest of your time.' He said, 'I need the money. I have a date tonight.' " Later, hearing that the thief had AIDS, the shopkeeper decided to drop the charges.

And as a medical technician reached for gloves and a cop scrubbed with peroxide, there was still no word of a cure. The casualties were limited to a few hundred homosexuals, junkies, and Haitians, and the government seemed reluctant to fund research. Dr. Linda Laubenstein, of New York University Hospital, says, "Don't say there wasn't enough money; say there wasn't any money." As the threat grew and the number of victims topped 1,000 nationwide, the U.S. Public Health Service suddenly called AIDS "the number-one priority." The National Institutes of Health and the federal Centers for Disease Control put up $14.1 million for research in 1983 and pledged another $16.7 million for the next year.

At the AIDS Foundation, virologist Dr. Joseph Sonnabend suggested that the syndrome was the result of repeated exposure to a common virus, such as cytomegalovirus or Epstein-Barr virus. At New York Hospital, Dr. B. H. Kean theorized that AIDS was the work of a virus that had mutated into a more virulent form as it was passed rapidly from host to host. At Downstate Medical Center, Dr. Sheldon Landesman said that some scientists were speculating that a new virus might have been introduced from equatorial Africa or some other remote part of the world. At Harvard University, researchers pointed to the human -T - cell - leukemia virus.

As the threat grew and the number of victims topped 1,000, the United States Public Health Service called AIDS "the number - one priority."

In the hospitals, physicians tried to fight the illness with chemotherapy, bone-marrow transplants, interferon, and a filtering of the blood known as plasmapheresis. Nothing worked, and the number of victims was growing every few hours. Twelve of Dr. Dan William's patients died. Up at Westchester Medical Center, a neurosurgeon named Thomas Lansen removed a brain abscess from a 29-year-old AIDS patient only to see a second abscess develop a week later. Lansen went home that night saying he wished he did not have to operate on an AIDS case ever again.

"None of these people are getting better," Lansen says. "You can't help feeling that the operations we are doing are futile, but you have to try."

Four inmates contracted AIDS at Rikers Island. Three died at Auburn prison, and 100 inmates there went on a hunger strike demanding that all homosexuals be banned from the kitchen. The state correction officers asked for protective masks and called for the isolation of all prisoners with AIDS.

After two members of the Metropolitan Opera company contracted the illness, baritone Gene Boucher drew up a flier listing the symptoms of AIDS. The flier was distributed by the American Guild of Musical Artists, and a copy was posted at the New York City Ballet. Some stationery stores began stocking AIDS cards. The outside of one card read, "Sick? While you are getting well . . ." The inside read, "Make a list of all the people you've infected."

At the city Bureau of Preventable Disease, the telephone began ringing as many as 50 times a day with inquiries from fearful citizens. One caller was reassured that mosquitoes are not known to carry AIDS. Another was told that there is no reason to fire a maid simply because she is Haitian. One doctor who works at the office was stopped by a neighbor who wanted to know if it was still safe to visit Greenwich Village. Another neighbor asked if she should worry about working with a homosexual.

And there were a thousand other stories of fear. Dr. James Oleske received a call asking if it was risky to invite a homosexual relative who had AIDS to a christening. The widow of musician Charles Mingus found herself wondering if she should continue to swim in her building's pool. "When I was growing up, polio was still killing people, and mothers wouldn't let children swim in pools," Susan Mingus says.