They listened again while assorted thieves, murderers, rapists, men--save for an innocent few--whose hands were consistently raised against their fellows' peace and property, heard their jailor tell them that the end of their world, a world that many of them remembered but dimly, was coming to an end. The screaming broke out again when Halloran spoke of the Mars-bound ships, and, for a moment, the three in the office thought he had lost control. But the amplifiers prevailed and Halloran laughed and said, "Anyway, we're not going to Mars--" "_You_ can go!" The man who yelled that was apparently very close to the warden within his view, for they heard him say: "Chrisman, you're a fool--as usual! Would I bother to come out here and talk to you if I could go?" That got them. That, they understood. If a guy didn't scram from a hot spot when he could ... well, then, he couldn't scram in the first place. So, the warden was stuck, just like they were. Later, perhaps, a few of them might figure out why. "Now, let's have no more interruptions," Halloran said. "_I_ don't think there's any need to go. Neither does the doc, here, or the rabbi. We're all staying--because the desert to the south of us has stopped the spread of this dust and it seems it can't cross the rivers, either. So, we're safe enough." "But that's not true," groaned Lansing. Court glanced at him. "Would you tell them different?" he said coldly. "No--" Halloran said, "Well, that's that. Life is a little difficult outside and so the people out there want to try to get to Mars. Believe me, that's a trip I want someone else to make first. But if they think life will be easier on those deserts--why, let them go. But God help them--they'll need it." He paused. Knox tried to catch Lansing's eye, but the scientist's face was blank, unseeing. "What do _we_ do?" This voice was not hysterical, just seriously questioning. "_You_ should do darned well. Life should be easy enough for _you_. You've got your own farms, your livestock, laundry, hospital, shops--everything a man can need. So, take over and run things to suit yourselves." A unanimous gasp whistled over the speaker. Then, they all cried just one word. "Us?" "Why not? Don't you think you can?" Silence, broken by strange, wistful mutterings. "I'd suggest this," Halloran said. "Let's follow our normal routine tonight--no lock-ups, of course--and tomorrow, you fellows take over. I'll help you in any way I can. But it will be _your_ job. Perhaps after breakfast tomorrow, you ought to have a mass meeting. Under the supervision of your council, I'd say. You can't keep going without some kind of order, you know." Again silence. "My God," whispered Lansing, "he makes it all sound so _real_." "Any questions?" Halloran asked. "Hey, warden! How about the dames?" "The ladies will join you tomorrow morning." He chuckled. "I imagine they'll be able to handle you all right!" A joyous roar.