"I don't know," said Litchfield. "Why? Weil — I suppose not. Constant reaction would produce nitric acid rain. In time there would be no more water because the process would go to termination. On a planet like that they'd probably handle water the way we do nitroglycerine. So —" Litchfield suddenly shouted. "Joe! That's it! We'll irritate these crabs until they'll swear they're being broiled alive."
"I don't get it," said Hamilton. "What are you going to do?"
"Pipe some of this water over to the atmosphere pumps. Those crabs will be breathing nitric acid vapor - providing they breathe. If they don't, I'll bet it will sting their hides and send them back here yammering to get in."
"Yeah ... yeah ... it might do it," breathed Barnes. His voice was almost pitiful at this apparent reprieve.
"Well, let's not bank on it until it's done," Joe growled. "This won't be easy with what we've got to work with."
"Turn about will have to be within an hour —" Barnes murmured.
They found a coil of tubing among the supplies. It was soft enough to bend, but it couldn't be melted or soldered with the small torch that their kits contained. They had to improvise a coupling to the tank outlet. The tubing was too soft to permit tight clamp. It's size would only permit a butt joint.
The makeshift flange coupling that they finally devised cost them a full half hour. And they still had to provide an inlet to the gas system.
While Barnes and Hamilton cut into the tough metal of the ducts just ahead of the blowers, Joe and Litchfield made some nozzles and fitted them crudely to the end of the line. The height of the tank provided some standpipe pressure, and the blower made it partial vacuum in the duct so they believed the water would be broken up sufficiently.
They inserted the nozzles and turned the water on. It sprayed out with satisfying sharpness. They packed the hole tightly to improve the spray. Then they sat back to wait.