Black Tom nodded. It was then Bairn noticed Joe.
Bairn said wearily: "Haven't you caused enough grief, Joe? Arden's sick with the disease because of you. You've been a jinx ever since the trip started. Why don't you crawl in a hole and die?"
"I'm trying to help," Joe said.
"Nuts," said Bairn tiredly. Then he turned to Black Tom. "We've got gasoline galore for operating the electrical units. Think gas'll work?"
"No," Tom said briefly. Joe's stomach was beginning to quiver again, and the figures of Tom, Bairn and Parman were weaving. He could feel his pulses pounding raggedly, as if a million drummers were anxious to keep out of tempo.
He forced himself to walk slowly from the room, but the dizziness caught him at the door and he had to hang on to the lever to keep from keeling over.
His thoughts were kaleidoscoping, but one finally broke through clearly. It was the answer.
He pulled himself erect, said through feverish lips:
"Bairn...."
Bairn said, without turning his head: