When ship-fuel warms up, or is catalyzed, it goes on one step beyond the process of its manufacture. It goes on to the modification the refrigeration prevented. It changes its molecular configuration. What was stable because it was cold becomes something which is hysterically unstable because of its structure. The touch of a feather can detonate it. A shout can set it off.
It is, indeed, burned only molecule by molecule in a ship's engines, being catalyzed to the unstable state while cold at the very spot where it is to detonate. And since the energy yielded by detonation is that of the forced bonds ... why ... the energy-content of ship-fuel is much greater than a merely chemical compound can contain. Ship-fuel contains a measurable fraction of the power of atomic explosive. But it is much more practical for use on board ship.
The point now was, of course, that leaked into the ground and warmed ... why ... practically any vibratory motion will detonate it. Even dissolved, it can detonate because it is not a chemical but an energy-release action.
"A good, drumming, heavy rain," said Sandringham very calmly indeed, "which falls on this end of the island, will undoubtedly set off some scores of tons of leaked ship-fuel. And that ought to scatter and catalyze and detonate the rest. The explosion should be equivalent to at least a megaton fusion bomb." He paused, and added with irony, "Pretty situation, isn't it? If the civilians hadn't irrigated, we could evacuate Headquarters and let it blow—as it will anyhow. If the fuel hadn't leaked, we could let in the civilians until the island's soil decides what it's going to do. Either would be a nasty situation, but the combination—"
Werner said shrilly:
"Evacuation to the Arctic is the only possible answer! Some people can be saved! Some! I'll take a boat and equipment and go on ahead and get some sort of refuge ready."
There was dead silence. The brown dog, who had followed Hardwick from the outer terrace, now yawned loudly. Hardwick reached over and absent-mindedly scratched his ears. Young Barnes swallowed.
"Beg pardon, sir," he said awkwardly. "But what's the weather forecast?"
"Continued fair," said Sandringham pleasantly. "That's why I had Hardwick and Werner come down. Three heads are better than one. I've gambled their lives on their brains."