haven't located the trouble so far. "Now there's no reason for panic. The extrapolated curve of temperature decline indicates that, at worst, it'll level off at about zero Centigrade. That won't be fun, but we can stand it till the difficulty has been found. Everyone is advised to dress as warmly as possible. Food and air plant crews are going on emergency status. All projects requiring energy sources are cancelled till further notice. "According to the meters, there's nothing wrong with the pile. It's still putting out as much heat as it always has. But somehow, that heat isn't getting to us as it should. The engineers are checking the pipes now. "I'll have a stat of the findings made up and issued. Suggestions are welcome, but please take them to my office—the engineers have their own work to do. Above all, don't panic! This is a nuisance, I know, but there's no reason to be afraid. "All personnel not needed at once, stand by. The following specialists please report to me—" He read off the list, all physicists, and closed his talk with a forced grin and thumbs up. As if it had broken a dam, the message released a babble of words. Gilchrist saw Catherine striding out of the room and hastened after her. "Where are you going?" he asked. "Where do you think?" she replied. "To put on six layers of clothes." He nodded. "Best thing. I'll come along, if I may—my room's near yours." A woman, still in her smock, was trying to comfort a child that shivered and cried. A Malayan geologist stood with teeth clattering in his jaws. An engineer snarled when someone tried to question him and ran on down the corridor. "What do you think?" asked Gilchrist inanely. "I don't have any thoughts about the heating plant," said Catherine. Her voice held a thin edge. "I'm too busy worrying about food and air." Gilchrist's tongue was thick and dry in his mouth. The biochemistry of food creation and oxygen renewal died when it got even chilly. Finished dressing, they looked at each other in helplessness. Now what?
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