"Well?" DeCastros snapped. "Well—well?" His face was greenish from the effects of the special, contamination resistant mixture that they were breathing.
"I found the leak," Mr. Wordsley said.
"Did you fix it?"
"It was one of the irmium alloy plugs in the outer hull beneath the pile. They were originally placed there, I believe, for the installation of a radiation tester. The plug is missing, and I am sorry to say that we have no extras. Anything other than irmium would melt at once, of course."
"We have less than eight hours of pure air in the tanks," DeCastros said. "Have you thought of that, you rattle-head?"
"Yes, sir," Mr. Wordsley said. "And if I might be allowed to speculate, Captain, I would say that we are finished unless we can make a planetfall. Only then would I be able to remove the lower port tube, weld the cavity, seal the ship and fumigate."
"We're four weeks from the nearest star, Fomalhaut; you know that as well as I do."
"I was thinking," said Mr. Wordsley, with a sudden, suffused glow in his cheeks, "of Avis Solis."
Mr. Wordsley shut his eyes as they were going down, because he wanted to open them and surprise himself, at the moment of landing. But the cold, white glare was more intense than he had expected, and he had to shut them again and turn on the polarizer.