The temperature approached its minimum in a nosedive. There had always been a delicate equilibrium; it couldn't be otherwise, when the interior of the domes was kept at nearly 240 degrees above the surrounding world. The nuclear pile devoted most of its output to maintaining that balance, with only a fraction going to the electric generators.

Gilchrist thrust hands which were mottled blue with cold into his pockets. Breath smoked white before him. Already a thin layer of hoarfrost was on ceiling and furniture.

"How long can we stand this?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Catherine. "Not too long, I should think, since nobody has adequate clothes. The children should ... suffer ... pretty quickly. Too much drain on body energy." She clamped her lips together. "Use your mental training. You can ignore this till it begins actually breaking down your physique."

Gilchrist made an effort, but couldn't do it. He could stop shivering, but the chill dank on his skin, and the cold sucked in by his nose, were still there in his consciousness, like a nightmare riding him.

"They'll be dehumidifying the air," said Catherine. "That'll help some." She began walking down the hall. "I want to see what they're doing about the food and oxy sections."

A small mob had had the same idea. It swirled and mumbled in the hall outside the service rooms. A pair of hard-looking young engineers armed with monkey wrenches stood guard.

Catherine wormed her way through the crowd and smiled at them. Their exasperation dissolved, and one of them, a thickset red-head by the name of O'Mallory, actually grinned. Gilchrist, standing moodily behind the girl, could hardly blame him.

"How's it going in there?" she asked.

"Well, now, I suppose the Old Man is being sort of slow about his bulletins," said O'Mallory. "It's under control here."

"But what are they doing?"

"Rigging electric heaters, of course. It'll take all the juice we have to maintain these rooms at the right temperature, so I'm afraid they'll be cutting off light and power to the rest of the Hill."

She frowned. "It's the only thing, I suppose. But what about the people?"

"They'll have to jam together in the refectories and clubrooms. That'll help keep 'em 

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