Part 5 (2/2)

”But these are men, first and foremost, Mr. Bordman. And they're faced with a very human problem--how to die well. They seem to be rather good at it, so far.”

Bordman ground his teeth. He was again humiliated. In his own fas.h.i.+on he was attempting the same thing. But just as he was genetically not qualified to endure the climate of this planet, he was not prepared for a fatalistic or pious acceptance of disaster. Amerind and African, alike, these men instinctively held to their own ideas of what the dignity of a man called upon him to do when he could not do anything but die. But Bordman's idea of his human dignity required him to be still fighting: still scratching at the eyes of fate or destiny when he was slain. It was in his blood or genes or the result of training. He simply could not, with self-respect, accept any physical situation as hopeless even when his mind a.s.sured him that it was.

”I agree,” he said coldly, ”but still I have to think in technical terms. You might say that we are going to die because we cannot land the _Warlock_ with food and equipment. We cannot land the _Warlock_ because we have no landing grid. We have no landing grid because it and all the material to complete it is buried under millions of tons of sand. We cannot make a new light-supply-s.h.i.+p type of landing grid because we have no smelter to make beams, nor power to run it if we had, yet if we had the beams we could get the power to run the smelter we haven't got to make the beams. And we have no smelter, hence no beams, no power, no prospect of food or help because we can't land the _Warlock_. It is strictly a circular problem. Break it at any point and all of it is solved.”

One of the dark men muttered something under his breath to those near him. There were chuckles.

”Like Mr. Woodchuck,” explained the man, when Bordman's eyes fell on him. ”When I was a little boy there was a story like that.”

Bordman said icily:

”The problem of coolness and water and food is the same sort of problem.

In six months we could raise food--if we had power to condense moisture. We've chemicals for hydroponics--if we could keep the plants from roasting as they grew. Refrigeration and water and food are practically another circular problem.”

Aletha said tentatively:

”Mr. Bordman----”

He turned, annoyed. Aletha said almost apologetically:

”On Chagan there was a--you might call it a woman's coup given to a woman I know. Her husband raises horses. He's mad about them. And they live in a sort of home on caterwheels out on the plains--the llanos.

Sometimes they're months away from a settlement. And she loves ice cream and refrigeration isn't too simple. But she has a Doctorate in Human History. So she had her husband make an insulated tray on the roof of their trailer and she makes her ice cream there.”

Men looked at her. Her cousin said amusedly:

”That should rate some sort of technical-coup feather!”

”The Council gave her a bra.s.s pot--official,” said Aletha. ”Domestic science achievement.” To Bordman she explained: ”Her husband put a tray on the roof of their house, insulated from the heat of the house below.

During the day there's an insulated cover on top of it, insulating it from the heat of the sun. At night she takes off the top cover and pours her custard, thin, in the tray. Then she goes to bed. She has to get up before daybreak to sc.r.a.pe it up, but by then the ice cream is frozen.

Even on a warm night.” She looked from one to another. ”I don't know why. She said it was done in a place called Babylonia on Earth, many thousands of years ago.”

Bordman blinked. Then he said decisively:

”d.a.m.n! Who knows how much the ground-temperature drops here before dawn?”

”I do,” said Aletha's cousin, mildly. ”The top-sand temperature falls forty-odd degrees. Warmer underneath, of course. But the air here is almost cool when the sun rises. Why?”

”Nights are cooler on all planets,” said Bordman, ”because every night the dark side radiates heat to empty s.p.a.ce. There'd be frost everywhere every morning if the ground didn't store up heat during the day. If we prevent daytime heat-storage--cover a patch of ground before dawn and leave it covered all day--and uncover it all night while s.h.i.+elding it from warm winds---- We've got refrigeration! The night sky is empty s.p.a.ce itself! Two hundred and eighty below zero!”

There was a murmur. Then argument. The foremen of the Xosa II colony-preparation crew were strictly practical men, but they had the habit of knowing why some things were practical. One does not do modern steel construction in contempt of theory, nor handle modern mining tools without knowing why as well as how they work. This proposal sounded like something that was based on reason--that should work to some degree.

But how well? Anybody could guess that it should cool something at least twice as much as the normal night temperature-drop. But somebody produced a slipstick and began to juggle it expertly. He astonishedly announced his results. Others questioned, and then verified it. n.o.body paid much attention to Bordman. But there was a hum of absorbed discussion, in which Redfeather and Chuka were immediately included. By calculation, it astoundingly appeared that if the air on Xosa II was really as clear as the bright stars and deep day-sky color indicated, every second night a total drop of one hundred and eighty degrees temperature could be secured by radiation to interstellar s.p.a.ce--if there were no convection-currents, and they could be prevented by----

It was the convection-current problem which broke the a.s.sembly into groups with different solutions. But it was Dr. Chuka who boomed at all of them to try all three solutions and have them ready before daybreak, so the a.s.sembly left the hulk, still disputing enthusiastically. But somebody had recalled that there were dewponds in the one arid area on Timbuk, and somebody else remembered that irrigation on Delmos III was accomplished that same way. And they recalled how it was done----

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