During the fifteen-minute wait before they dared venture back, Capt.
Wilkins, interrupted once by what appeared to be a moderately mild
after-shock from the previous moonquake, explained the phenomena they
had just observed.
"A room-temperature-curing epoxy liberates heat during its curing
reaction. And the hotter it is when you mix it, the faster it reacts.
The drum had been absorbing heat out here for several hours much faster
than it could radiate it away. It may have been forty or fifty degrees
C when we stirred in the curing agent. At that temperature, a pound
mass will normally kick over in five or ten minutes. But here, the only
way it can lose the reaction heat is by the slow process of radiation.
And that means as the heat builds up, the epoxy goes faster and faster,
building up even more heat. And furthermore, we're not talking about a
pound, which can maybe get up to 250 C. in air. We're talking about 500
pounds, liberating five hundred times as much heat as one pound, and
getting God knows how hot--"
"I sure wish you'd have told me this a little bit earlier," Major
Winship said. "I certainly wish you'd told me."
Capt. Wilkins said, "Honest, it never occurred to me Finogenov would be
dumb enough to tell us to mix a whole drum of epoxy."
Major Winship began to curse mechanically.
"I don't think he did it deliberately, Charlie. I really don't,"
Captain Lawler said. "I don't think he knew any better. Maybe he was
showing off by giving us a whole drum. Hell, I know he was showing off.
But something like that could kill somebody, and I don't think he'd go
that far."
"Think it's safe, yet?" Major Winship asked. He was perspiring freely
again. "I need some thermal protection. What'll we do? You know damned
well. We'll have to go _live_ with them. And that sticks in my craw,
gentlemen. That--sticks--in my--craw."'
"There's nothing for it," Capt. Wilkins said helpfully.
"Let me go in and survey the damage," Lt. Chandler said.
"That's my job," Major Winship said. "I've got to go in anyway." He
lumbered through the airlock and stepped into the total darkness
through the razor-edge curtain.
"I see it glowing, still," he said. "It's almost as bad in here as out
there, now. I guess it's okay. Come on. Let's bumble around finding
the air bottles for the suits and get over there before I'm a boiled
lobster. Not only is my reefer out, so's my light."
"Coming."
An air of urgency began to accumulate.
"What are we going to do with him? It's a half-hour run over there."
"Think you can make it, Charlie?"
"I'm damned well hot."
"Charlie, come out here. In the car. Skip, you get the bottles. You
drive."
Major Winship came out. "Lay down in back," Capt. Wilkins said. "Les,
you lay down beside him. I'll lay on top of him. I think we can shield
him pretty good that way."
"That's good thinking," Capt. Lawler said from inside.
The operation was not easily executed. Lt. Chandler got in first, and
then Major Winship squeezed beside him. "Careful, there," he said as
Capt. Wilkins came aboard.
Capt. Wilkins's foot rolled off one of Major Winship's thighs.
"Watch it!"
"I am."
"Oops!"
"Ufff! I felt that. Ugh. Thank God for the way these are built."
"How's that?" Capt. Wilkins asked.
"I guess.... It's okay, I guess."
"Cooler?"
"It's too soon to tell. Man, I'll bet we look silly."
Capt. Lawler came out with the bottles and studied his companions for a
moment.
"See if we can get up and over a little more, Les."
"This okay?"
"Better. How's it feel, Charlie?"
"Okay."