Sandringham nodded.
"Fortunately," he observed, "nobody's listening. You are quite right."
He snapped the connection. And then young Barnes realized that he had defied a Sector Chief, which is something distinctly more improper in a junior officer than merely trying to instruct him in topping off his vacuum-suit tanks.
Twelve hours later, however, Sandringham called for him.
"Barometer's dropping, lieutenant. I'm concerned. I'm issuing a notice of the impending storm. Not everybody will crowd in on us, but a great many will. I'm explaining that the chemicals put into the bottom soil may not quite have finished their work. If Hardwick wakens, tell him."
"Yes, sir," said Barnes.
But he did not intend to wake Hardwick. Hardwick, however, woke of himself at the end of twenty hours of sleep. He was stiff and sore and his mouth tasted as if something had kittened in it. Fatigue can produce a hangover, too.
"How's the barometer?" he asked when his eyes came open.
"Dropping, sir. Heavy winds, sir. The Sector Chief has opened the Reserve Area, sir, to the civilians if they wish to come."