"N-no, sir!" admitted the very junior lieutenant. "But—"
"Make those measurements!" snapped Hardwick.
The boat came into the dock. Hardwick got out of the boat. He went to Sandringham's office.
Sandringham was in the act of listening to somebody in the phone-screen, who apparently was on the thin edge of hysteria. The brown dog was sprawled asleep on the rug.
When the man in the vision-screen panted to a stop, Sandringham said calmly:
"I am assured that before the soil of the island is too far gone, measures now in preparation will be applied to good effect. A Senior Survey Officer is now preparing remedial measures. He is a ... ah ... specialist in problems of exactly this nature."
"But we can't wait!" panted the civilian fiercely. "I'll proclaim a planetary emergency! We'll take over the reserve area by force! We have to—"
"If you try," Sandringham told him grimly, "I'll mount paralysis-guns to stop you!" He said with icy precision: "I urged the planetary government to go easy on this irrigation! You yourself denounced me in the Planetary Council for trying to interfere in civilian affairs! Now you want to interfere in Survey affairs! I resent it as much as you did, and with much better reason!"
"Murderer!" panted the civilian. "Murderer!"