"One of the amateurs told me he'd picked up a report from the ship about a week ago. The radio operator said he was barricaded in the radio room. Rioting had broken out all over the ship. Dozens of passengers had been killed; the ones who were left were turning cannibalistic. That was the last report anyone has heard from the ship." Ken shuddered. He glanced through the window and caught a vision of Science Hall on College Hill. A fortress, he thought. There were maybe a dozen other such fortresses scattered throughout the world; in them lay the only hope against the enemy that rampaged across the Earth. In the sky, he could see the comet's light faintly, even through the lead-gray clouds from which snow was falling. "You should get back to bed," said Maria. "You look as if you had been hit two hours ago instead of two weeks." "Yeah, I guess I'd better." Ken arose, feeling weak and dizzy. "Can you get that report typed for Dad tonight? It would be good for him to be able to take it to the lab with him in the morning." "I'll get it done," said Maria. "You get off to bed." As much as he rebelled against it, Ken was forced to spend the next two days in bed. Dr. Adams allowed him to be up no more than a few hours on the third day. "I'm afraid you took a worse beating than any of us thought," the doctor said. "You'll just have to coast for a while." It was as he was finally getting out of bed again that he heard Art Matthews, when the mechanic came to the door and spoke with Ken's mother. "This is awfully important," Art said. "I wish you'd ask him if he doesn't feel like seeing me for just a minute." "He's had a bad relapse, and the doctor says he has to be kept very quiet for a day or two longer." Dressed, except for his shoes, Ken went to the hall and leaned over the stair railing. "I'll be down in just a minute, Art. It's okay, Mom. I'm feeling good today." "Ken! You shouldn't!" his mother protested. In a moment he had his shoes on and was racing down the stairs. "What's happened, Art? Anything gone wrong?" The mechanic looked downcast. "Everything! We got the Norton elevator motor and hooked it up with the gas engine. It ran fine for a couple of days, and we got a lot of batteries charged up." "Then it quit," said Ken. "Yeah--how did you know?" "I've been afraid we had missed one bet. It just isn't enough to supply filtered air to the engines built of new parts. The parts themselves are already contaminated with the dust. As soon as they go into operation, we have the same old business, all over again. "Unless some means of decontamination can be found these new parts are no better than the old ones." "Some of these parts were wrapped in tissue paper and sealed in cardboard boxes!" Art protested. "How could enough dust get to them to ruin them?"