Jak, having disposed of the used plastic from their suits, had come into the control room and was listening interestedly, as was their mother, who was hovering near, not quite sure she liked the idea of her menfolks fussing with this unknown but admittedly dangerous metal. "That means we'll have to make and install a smaller injector, too, doesn't it?" Jon asked. And when his father nodded, he added "I'll see about making it." "Later, when we've found out whether we can use the stuff. Right now we'd all better get some sleep. I'm bushed, and I imagine you chaps are, too. How about you, Marci?" Mr. Carver turned to his wife. "Well, I could use some sleep," she admitted. "Right, Pop. Good night. 'Night, Mom." 12 Early the next morning the boys were clamoring to get started, but their mother would not let them go into the control room. "Now you listen to Mother," she protested, using a favorite phrase of hers. "Your father hasn't made any sign yet. You wait until he's awake and has had something to eat. I know how anxious you are to do all these things, but you must remember he isn't strong yet, and we must not let him overdo. He is as much a child about such things as you two are, but someone has to watch him." The boys laughed rather shamefacedly. "It's just we get so interested in things, Mom," Jon apologized. "Yes, I know. But if you will look in your dictionary, you will find a word called 'moderation.'" She smiled. "Never heard of it." Jon grinned as he went to get a reelbook on radioactives, and began studying. Jak, too, went back to studying and trying to classify the various specimens he had obtained from the two worlds. However, they soon remembered their usual duties--and whisked through their various chores about the ship, then went back to their absorbing occupations. They had been at these nearly an hour when they heard their father's voice. Dropping everything, they sprang toward the control room, and found him wide-awake and looking much better. Mrs. Carver came running in, and they were told, "Feel fine. This is a wonderful bed. Seem to be much stronger today, too." "That's wonderful, Mr. C. I'll go get you some breakfast." Jon ran for a basin of water and towels, and he and Jak helped their father with his toilet. "While you're eating, Pop, how about me cutting off that piece of the new metal so we can start studying it?" "How big a piece were you figuring on?" Mr. Carver asked with that quizzical look. Jon flushed and mentally changed the size he had planned to get. "About a gram?" he asked. "I'd say more like a few milligrams." His father grinned. "That's plenty for our initial studies and analyses, and shouldn't hurt us any if we're careful and wear insulation." "But that's only a pin-head size." "Well?" again quizzically.