Regulations provide

The makeshift flange coupling that they finally devised cost them a full half hour. And they still had to provide an inlet to the gas system.

While Barnes and Hamilton cut into the tough metal of the ducts just ahead of the blowers, Joe and Litchfield made some nozzles and fitted them crudely to the end of the line. The height of the tank provided some standpipe pressure, and the blower made it partial vacuum in the duct so they believed the water would be broken up sufficiently.

They inserted the nozzles and turned the water on. It sprayed out with satisfying sharpness. They packed the hole tightly to improve the spray. Then they sat back to wait.

"How long do you think it will take?" asked Barnes hopefuly.

"No telling," said Joe. "It will take a while to build up sufficient concentration of acid for them to notice. We're a long way from the control room —"

Nobody said anything. An hour and a half left. Past turn-about time for Barnes. They were going to have to watch him die, Joe thought. But they wouldn't see him. Hidden behind the blank steel face of the helmet, his face wouldn't be seen by anyone. It would be like dying all alone.

"You lie down," he said abruptly, "Breathe as slowly as possible. Close your eyes and stop stewing. The rest of us will get busy and rig up some kind of an electrolysis setup so that the moment we get out of here, we'll blow out one of these water tanks and rig up the other one to collect some oxygen. We can get in there and equalise our suit supplies and replenish them. Maybe a couple of us can hole up in the tank and let the others run the ship back home by using the supply of the four suits. Take it easy, Barnes. We're all going to get out of this."

He didn't believe that any more, he thought, but it helped to say it. The water line had cost them too much time. Turn-about was too far gone, even with such added velocity as they might obtain during return. Litchfield could go another hour and a half. He might make it alone.

The work kept their minds from degenerating into circularity of thought. They had to exercise their brains to rip out the right power lines while they were hot, and feed them to the terminals they had rigged up. With a collector for the oxygen and hydrogen, they were all ready to be inserted in a tank as soon as the gas could be blown free by opening the chambers to space.

And then they had done all that they could do. There was nothing at all to do but wait. They lay on the floor to conserve their oxygen. Joe kept thinking maybe there was something they had overlooked — something utterly simple that would enable them to move right out of the chamber.

Barnes had been quiet for a long time, Joe wanted to talk to the boy, but he couldn't think of anything to say. It was no good telling him he wasn't going to die — because it was a thousand to one chance he was.

When there was only fifteen minutes suppy left to Barnes, Joe said, "Barnes - ?"

Only after a long pause did the technician answer, and then his voice was weak and sleepy sounding. "Yes - ?"

"I'm sorry, kid. I thought I was smart breaking the regulations and letting these crabs down. A regulation would have sent them away, and none of us would be here now."

"It's O.K.," said Barnes, and his voice sounded more secure than it had at any time since they had been trapped. "It's not bad this way. I feel just kind of sleepy. I guess they call it anoxia, don't they? Hope you guys make it. Be sure to see Mary. Tell her I wasn't even scared a bit."

And then they heard the scratching at the door. Unbelieving, they listened, and heard it again. The three of them scrambled to their feet as swiftly as possible in the clumsy armor. They hid behind the door, and waited for it to open a crack.

Joe got his steel fingers into it and jerked. The creature on the other side stumbled and fell into the room, threshing weakly on the floor. His skin, visible between the joints of the exoskeleton was livid with acid burn, and his eyes were nearly shut.

"Take care of Barnes," Joe ordered the other two, "I'll go up front and turn us around."

"The other one might be armed —" Litchfield warned.

"It won't matter if he's in as bad condition as this one. Block this door and come up in three minutes if we don't turn."

Joe had little fear of opposition after seeing what the acid had done to the one creature, but he kept a sharp watch as he came into the control chamber.

He needn't have. The creature was slumped in the cradle that supported him before the panel of controls. He saw Joe but made no move. The cerebropath was still operating, and he spoke.

"We ... didn't know what had happened to you. We thought you were ... taking care of engines. Didn't know you were locked in —"