The engineer shrugged. "And what happens after they're used up? No, we're keeping them as a last resort." His grin was hideous. "We could get six or seven comfortable days out of them." "Then let's have them! If you thumb-fingered idiots haven't fixed the system by then, you deserve to die." "And you'll die right along with us, laddybuck." O'Mallory bristled. "Don't think the black gang's loafing. We're taking the cold and the radiation as much as you are--" "_Radiation?_" Faces turned around. Gilchrist saw eyes gleam white. The word rose in a roar, and a woman screamed. "Shut up!" bawled O'Mallory frantically. "Shut up!" Danton shouted and swung at him. The engineer shook his head and hit back. As Danton lurched, a man rabbit-punched O'Mallory from behind. Gilchrist yanked Catherine away. The mob spilled over, a sudden storm. He heard a table splinter. Someone leaped at him. He had been an educated man, a most scientific and urbane man, but he had just been told that hard radiation was pouring through his body and he ran about and howled. Gilchrist had a glimpse of an unshaven face drawn into a long thin box with terror, then he hit. The man came on, ignoring blows, his own fists windmilling. Gilchrist lowered his head and tried clumsily to take the fury on his arms. Catherine, he thought dizzily, Catherine was at least behind him. The man yelled. He sat down hard and gripped his stomach, retching. Alemán laughed shortly. "A good kick is advisable in such unsporting circumstances, _mi amigo_." "Come on," gasped Catherine. "We've got to get help." They fled down a tunnel of blackness. The riot noise faded behind, and there was only the hollow slapping of their feet. Lights burned ahead, Vesey's office. A pair of engineer guards tried to halt them. Gilchrist choked out an explanation. Vesey emerged and swore luridly, out of hurt and bewilderment at his own people. "And we haven't a tear gas bomb or a needler in the place!" He brooded a moment, then whirled on Jahangir, who had come out behind him. "Get a tank of compressed ammonia gas from the chem section and give 'em a few squirts if they're still kicking up when you arrive. That ought to quiet them without doing any permanent damage." The chief nodded and bounded off with his subordinates. In this gravity, one man could carry a good-sized tank. Vesey beat a fist into his palm. There was agony on his face. Catherine laid a hand on his arm. "You've no choice," she said gently. "Ammonia is rough stuff, but it would be worse if children started getting trampled." Gilchrist, leaning against the wall, straightened. It was as if a bolt had snapped home within him. His shout hurt their eardrums. "_Ammonia!_" "Yes," said Vesey dully. "What about it?" Breath smoked from his mouth, and his skin was rough with gooseflesh. "I--I--I--It's your ... y-y-your _answer_!" * * * * *