Hardwick sat down. The brown dog blinked his eyes open and then got up and shook himself. "I'm holding off those idiots!" said the Sector Chief in suppressed fury. "I daren't tell him it's more dangerous here than outside! If or when that fuel blows--Do you realize that the falling of a single tree limb might set off an explosion in the Reserve-area here that would--But you know." "Yes," admitted Hardwick. He did know. Even forty tons of ship-fuel going off would destroy this entire end of the island. It would be at least the equivalent of a megaton fusion bomb explosion. And almost certainly the concussion would produce violent movement of the rest of the island's surface. But he was uncomfortable about putting forward his own ideas. He was not a good salesman. He suspected his own opinions until he had proved them with extremely painstaking care--for fear of having them adopted on his past record rather than because they were sound. And then, too, his plan involved junior ranks being informed about the proposal. If they accepted a dubious plan on high authority, and the plan miscarried, it made them share in the mistake. Which hurt their self-confidence. Young Barnes, now, would undoubtedly obey any order and accept any hint blindly, and Hardwick honestly did not know why. But as a matter of the training of junior ranks-- "About the work to be done," said Hardwick. "I imagine the sea-water freshening plants have closed down?" "They have!" said Sandringham curtly. "They insisted on piling them up over my protests. Now if anybody proposed operating one, they'd scream to high heaven!" Hardwick felt uncomfortable. "What was done with the minerals taken out of the sea water?" "You know how the fresheners work!" said Sandringham. "They pump sea water in at one end, and at the other, one pipe yields fresh water, and another heavy brine. They dump the heavy brine back overboard and the fresh water's pumped up and distributed through the irrigation systems." "It's too bad some of the salts weren't stored," said Hardwick. "Could a freshener be started up again?" Sandringham said with irony: "Oh, the civilians would love that! No! If any man started up a water-freshener, the civilians would kill him and smash it!" "But I think we'll need one. We'll want to irrigate some ground up here." "My God! What for?" demanded Sandringham. Then he said shortly: "No! Don't tell me! Let me try to work it out." * * * * * There was silence. The brown dog blinked at Hardwick. He held out his hand. The dog came sedately to him and bent his head to be scratched. Hardwick scratched. After a considerable time, the Sector Chief growled: "I give up. Do you want to tell me?" Hardwick said painstakingly: