"You have a free hand," said Burbank. His voice sounded beaten.
Channing left the office of the Director and headed for the chem lab. "How much potassium chlorate, nitrate, sulphate, and other oxygen-bearing compounds have you?" he asked. "That includes mercuric oxide, spare water, or anything else that will give us oxygen if broken down."
There was a ten-minute wait until the members of the chem lab took a hurried inventory.
"Good," said Channing. "Start breaking it down. Collect all the oxygen you can in containers. This is the business! It has priority! Anything, no matter how valuable, must be scrapped if it can facilitate the gathering of oxygen. God knows, there isn't by half enough—not even a tenth. But try, anyway."
Channing headed out of the chemistry laboratory and into the electronics lab. "Jimmie," he shouted, "get a couple of stone jars and get an electrolysis outfit running. Fling the hydrogen out of a convenient outlet into space and collect the oxygen. Water, I mean. Use tap water, right out of the faucet."
"Yeah, but—"
"Jimmie, if we don't breathe, what chance have we to go on drinking? I'll tell you when to stop."
"O.K., Doc," said Jimmie.
"And look. As soon as you get that running, set up a CO2 indicator and let me know the percentage at the end of each hour! Get me?"