"Can't you face facts?" snapped Moray. "Do you realize that we haven't much time left? And what are we doing about it? Where are we? Nowhere, or no further along than we were thirty years ago--exactly thirty years ago. It's July sixteenth right now, and that's--" "You're talking like a fool, Moray," said Virginia. "Have you ever stopped to think that those of us who do not rant and rave and worry ourselves into ulcers may have faced the fact, and find it ungood? Well, there are those of us who will do what we can. There's little sense in worrying about conditions--all it does is remove you from your highest efficiency. "When something is awry you do something to correct it if you can. If you cannot you pigeonhole it until such a time as you can solve it. Not forget it, never for a moment. But there's no sense in dragging a worry back and forth across the floor until it is draining your life's blood. As for that out there, I didn't do it." "Good for you, Virginia," applauded Cauldron. "No," snapped Moray. "You didn't. You were not born at that time. But you can't fold your hands and accept it--nor can you say that it is none of your business!" "There's always suicide," said Virginia Carlson. * * * * * A clock in the lower part of the house chimed once, marking the hour of five-thirty. Moray returned to the window and looked at the sky, west. "At five-thirty in the morning of July sixteenth," he said, "one hundred and twenty miles southeast of Albuquerque, in a remote section of the Alamogordo air base, a group of scientists released the first atomic fire. Thirty years later," he finished bitterly, "we have a perpetual sunrise!" On the laboratory table, the receiver rattled loudly. They turned, as one. "Look," snapped Cauldron quickly, "if that is this Ed Bronson character, get in touch with him. We can use any technician we can get our hands on. Any man with a brain might well hold the key to that living cancer out there that is burning up the very earth." "I'll put my chances on a space rocket," replied Peter Moray. "I'd rather stop that fire out there." "Why?" demanded Moray. "Where would you go?" snapped Cauldron angrily. "There isn't a planet fit for human occupation and you know it. You'll either put it out or we'll all die. Not a chance for escape in any other way." "I--" "Shut up, while Virginia answers Bronson. He's having interference trouble--you'll make it no easier." From the speaker was coming Ed Bronson's voice, calling for Miss Carlson and requesting an answer, for he had filters installed that eliminated the whistlings. Cauldron jabbed Moray with an elbow. "He's a right bright fellow," he observed in a whisper. Virginia Carlson spoke into the microphone. "You're right on the big moment," she told Bronson. "Big moment?" he replied. "Sure. Thirty years ago today--this moment." "Yeah?" drawled Bronson. "And what happened?"