"Time for what?"
"Before they kill off all bacterial forms of life?"
"They already have!"
"What? But, good Lord, Jesse, surely you're wrong! That can't be true.
Why--why, it means we're too late! If all bacterial forms of life are
extinct, we're done for!"
"Keep your pants on," said Jesse wearily. "We're preserving about
a thousand types of bacteria--algae, amoeba, molds--in airtight
containers. Enough to give us a start when we get the fort sealed.
Plant life isn't going to last very long though--and neither is animal
life. We should lay in a supply of seeds, not to mention breeding
stocks of those animals we want to preserve. And in a hurry, too."
Slowly Matt clenched his fist.
"O.K., Jesse," he said. "Thanks. Drop everything else and get to work
on a toxic agent that'll destroy the alien amoebas inside the fort."
"Right."
The screen went dead.
Matt realized that Lynn was regarding him in dismay. He grinned at
her suddenly. "You win. We'll have to smash those women tomorrow."
He turned to Willie Shaw. "Get the engineers to help you design any
equipment you need. The fort will have to be sealed from top to bottom,
windows and all. What about the basements?"
"We can seal them from the inside."
"And the dome over the roof?"
"Build it up of plastic plates welded together. We'll need an airlock,
of course, and all the water will have to pass through the boilers. But
how are you going to handle the quantity of material that it'll take?
And we don't have a tenth enough workmen."
Matt frowned. "We'll have to put one of the factories in Louisville
back into operation, I suppose. But as for workmen...." He paused,
running his hand through his crisp black hair. "Why, we'll all have to
drop everything else and go to work on this--and that includes those
Amazons we captured!"
"But, Matt, how can you make _them_ work?" Lynn's eyes were enormous.
"Did you ever hear of chain gangs?" he asked savagely. "Of slave labor
and overseers with blacksnake whips?"
"But, Matt, surely you wouldn't...."
"I'd do anything to get this fort sealed in time! Anything! Is that
clear?"
* * * * *
Clang! Clang! Clang! Sparks showered from the anvil as Steve Babcock,
stripped to the waist and sweating, his bare chest protected by a black
apron, hammered the band of iron. Steve, the square-faced, sandy-haired
chief engineer, was the only man who had any practical knowledge of
blacksmithing.
Matt watched him silently. The chief's shoulders and arm bulged like
gnarled tree burls. The hammer came down--_clang!--clang!_
They had set up the forge in the corridor outside the cells where the
twenty-three women were lodged. The chief straightened and wiped the
sweat out of his eyes. "All right," he said. "Fetch the first one out."
Matt nodded at Captain Bascom. There were three other men in the
corridor, silent and uneasy. They were all armed.
They stiffened as Captain Bascom inserted a key in the lock on Margot
Drake's cell door.