"A good, drumming, heavy rain," said Sandringham, "which falls on this end of the island, will undoubtedly set off some hundreds of tons of leaked ship-fuel. And that ought to scatter and catalyze and detonate the rest. The explosion should be equivalent to at least a megaton fusion bomb." He paused, and added with irony. "Pretty situation, isn't it? If the civilians hadn't irrigated, we could evacuate Headquarters and let it blow, as it will anyhow. If the fuel hadn't leaked, we could let in the civilians until the island's soil decides what it's going to do. Either would be a nasty situation, but the combination..." Werner said shrilly: "Evacuation to the Arctic is the only possible answer! Some people can be saved! Some! I'll take a boat and equipment and go on ahead and get some sort of refuge ready--" There was dead silence. The brown dog who had followed Bordman from the outer terrace, now yawned loudly. Bordman reached over and absent-mindedly scratched his ears. Young Barnes swallowed. "Beg pardon, sir," he said. "What's the weather forecast?" "Continued fair," said Sandringham pleasantly. "That's why I had Bordman and Werner come down. Three heads are better than one. I've gambled their lives on their brains." Bordman continued to scratch the brown dog's ears. Werner licked his lips. Young Barnes looked from one to another of them. Then he looked back at the Sector Chief. "Sir," he said. "I--I think the odds are pretty good. Mr. Bordman, sir--he'll manage!" Then he flushed hotly at his own presumption in saying something consoling to a Senior Chief. It was comparable to telling him how to top off his vacuum-suit tanks. But the Sector Chief nodded in grave approval and turned to Bordman to hear what he had to say. * * * * * The leeward side of the island sloped gently into the water. From a boat offshore--say, a couple of miles out--the shoreline looked low and flat and peaceful. There were houses in view, and boats afloat. But they were much smaller than those that had been towing a twenty-mile-long oil-slick out to sea. These boats did not ply back and forth. Most of them seemed anchored. On some of them there was activity. Men went overboard, without splashing, and brought things up from the ocean bottom and dumped them inside the hulls. At long intervals men emerged from underwater and sat on the sides of the boats and smoked with an effect of leisure.