"Now, now," Endicott said soothingly. "Panic isn't going to help us any. All we have to do is sit tight—and wait. They'll send a relief ship out—"
"When?"
"In the morning. Morning, sure. They had us on the 'viewer, don't forget. They'll know exactly where to look."
"They won't be able to locate us in this white stuff."
"I tell you they know precisely where we are. And anyway the scanviewer will pick us up."
"I don't think they'll ever find us." Allison slumped down on his transverse geeseat, stared wide-eyed at the drift forming slowly inside the torn metal of the windward side of the control room. "This white stuff scares me." He shivered, then got up hastily, his boots slipping slightly on the snow-slick decking, and punched the button again. "It's got to work!" he cried and beat on the board with his fist.
"Stop that!" Endicott said sharply.
There was a crack of a slap in the control room, then silence.
In a moment Endicott said in his soothing voice, "Sorry, Allison. Everything'll be all right. Don't you worry."
"If you say so, Chief." Allison stood in the center of the control room, his arms slack by his sides.