"They aren't carbon life at all. They're silicon life!" Matt stared at her in disbelief. Theoretically, of course, it was quite possible. Silicon had the ability to form complex molecules very closely akin to carbon compounds. Somehow, though, he had never seriously considered life manifesting itself in anything but carbon-based protoplasm. The girl went on before he could ask any questions. "Sawyer also said that although they had examined sample after sample of the water, they were unable to find a trace of the normal microscopic organisms usually present. "Apparently the silicon life has completely destroyed all the carbon base forms!" Matt put down his fork with a clatter. "That sounds serious!" The girl frowned. "It struck me as ominous, but I couldn't see exactly how." Matt said, "Minute aquatic life feeds on the microscopic forms. Small fish, minnows, and other fry, feed on the smaller aquatic creatures. The minnows in turn supply food for larger species. It's a chain. Destroy the first link and you destroy the whole chain. In weeks our waters will be devoid of carbon-based life in any form!" Lynn said, "Oh!" in a frightened voice. A buzzer interrupted them. "That must be Isaac," said the girl and pressed a button releasing the front door. Isaac Trigg, the director, came in, looking haggard and unshaven. Matt thought Isaac was beginning to appear perpetually haggard. The director took a seat and combed his beard nervously with his fingers. "What's on your mind, Isaac?" Matt asked. "Those women!" Matt frowned. "How so?" "Frankly, Matt, they're raising hell. They demand that they be released." "Let them demand." "Well, what are you going to do with them?" Matt said, "That must be decided later." He cast a sidelong glance at Lynn. "At the moment, it's more important that we get organized." "Yes," agreed the director, "but some of the men are--er--anxious that the prisoners' fate be settled. In fact one or two were inclined to take it into their own hands. Nesbit's in back of it." Matt's jaw set. He smashed his fist on the table so that the cups danced. "Oh, no! We're not going to have those women running loose inside the fort. They'd be worse than a Trojan horse any day. "We've got work to do. And until we get settled, those women stay behind bars." Isaac swallowed. "I'm in complete accord. After all, I'm beyond the age when women mean anything to me, but Nesbit--" "Then that's settled!" said Matt emphatically and went on with his breakfast. All at once a low buzzing began to sound. "Door?" Matt asked. Lynn shook her head. "Televisor." She threw a switch in the wall behind her and a small inset screen glowed into life. Captain Bascom's square visage filled the screen. "So you're finally up," he began without preamble. "You're none too soon. The delegates from the women's camp are on their way with a white flag." "How many?" Matt asked. "Four."