A colleague, Danton, turned empty eyes on them as they joined the rest. "Any word?" he asked.
"They're working on it," said Catherine shortly.
"God! Won't they hurry up? I've got a wife and kid. And we can't even sleep, it's so cold."
Yes, thought Gilchrist, that would be another angle. Weariness to eat away strength and hope ... radiation would work fast on people in a depressed state.
"They could at least give us a heater in here!" exclaimed Danton. His tone was raw. Shadows muffled his face and body.
"All the juice we can spare is going to the food and air plants. No use being warm if you starve or suffocate," said Catherine.
"I know, I know. But—Well, why aren't we getting more light? There ought to be enough current to heat the plants and still furnish a decent glow in here."
"Something else—" Gilchrist hesitated. "Something else is operating, then, and sucking a lot of power. I don't know what."
"They say the pile itself is as hot as ever. Why can't we run a pipe directly from it?"
"And get a mess of fast neutrons?" Catherine's voice died. After all ... they were being irradiated as they stood here and trembled.