Babs nodded. She swallowed.
"I—think I see what you mean when you say they may have trouble finding us, because this planet is so large."
Cochrane nodded reluctantly.
"Of course there's this burned-off space for a marker," he observed cheerfully. "But it could take several days for them to see it."
Babs swallowed again. She said carefully:
"The—ship can't hover like a helicopter, to search. You said so. It doesn't have fuel enough. They can't really search for us at all! The only way to make a real search would be to go back to Earth and—bring back helicopters and fuel for them and men to fly them.... Isn't that right?"
"Not necessarily. But we do have to figure on a matter of—well—two or three days as a possibility."
Babs moistened her lips and he said quickly:
"I did a show once about some miners lost in a wilderness. A period show. In it, they knew that part of their food was poisoned. They didn't know what. They had to have all their food. And of course they didn't have laboratories with which to test for poison."
Babs eyed him oddly.