"Barbara?"
"Yes, Hugh? Yes!"
"Keep your voice down. I heard what my daughter said."
"You did?"
"Yes. She's a gentleman. Barbara? I love you. I may not have another chance to say so."
"I love you."
"Darling."
"Shall I call the others?"
"Shortly. Are you comfortable?"
"Oh, very!"
"Then let me rest a bit. I feel woozy."
"As long as you like. Uh, can you wiggle your toes? Do you hurt anyplace?"
"I hurt lots of places, but not too much. Let me see- Yes, I can move everything. All right, call Joe."
"No hurry."
"Better call him. Work to do."
Shortly Mr. Farnham was back in charge. Joe required him to move himself-a mass of bruises but no break, sprain, nor concussion. It seemed to Barbara that Hugh had landed on the bottles and that she had landed on him. She did not discuss her theory.
Hugh's first act was to bind Joe's ribs with elastic bandage. Joe gasped as it tightened but seemed more comfortable with it. The lump on Karen's head was inspected; Hugh decided that there was nothing he could do for it.
"Will somebody fetch the thermometer?" he asked. "Duke?"
"It's busted."
"It's a bimetal job. Shockproof."
"I looked for it," Duke explained, "while you were doctoring. Seems cooler to me. While it may be shockproof, it couldn't stand being mashed between two tanks."
"Oh. Well, it's no big loss."
"Dad? Wouldn't this be a good time to try the spare radio? Just a suggestion."
"I suppose so, but- I hate to tell you, Duke, but you'll probably find it smashed, too. We tried it earlier. No results." He glanced at his wrist. "An hour and half ago. At two A.M. Has anyone else the time?"
Duke's watch agreed.
"We seem to be in fair shape," Hugh decided, "except for water. There are some plastic jugs of water but we need to salvage the tank water; we may have to drink it. With Halazone tablets. Joe, we need utensils of any sort, and everybody bail. Keep it as clean as you can." He added, "When Joe can spare you, Karen, scrounge some breakfast. We've got to eat, even if this is Armageddon."
"And Armageddon sick of it," Karen offered.
Her father winced. "Baby girl, you will write on the blackboard one thousand times: 'I will not make bad puns before breakfast.'"
"I thought it was pretty good, Hugh."
"Don't encourage her, Barbara. All right, get with it."
Karen returned shortly, carrying Dr. Livingstone. "I wasn't much help," she announced, "because somebody has to hang onto this damn cat. He wants to help."
"Kablerrrrt!"
"You did so! I'm going to entice him with sardines and get breakfast. What do you want, Daddy Hugh Boss? Crêpes Suzettes?"
"Yes."
"What you'll get is Spam and crackers."
"All right. How's the bailing going?"
"Daddy, I won't drink that water even with Halazone." She made a face. "You know where it wound up."
"We may have to drink it."
"Well... if you cut it with whisky-"
"Mmm- Every case of liquor is leaking. The two I've opened each has one fifth, unbroken."
"Daddy, you've ruined breakfast."
"The question is, do I ration it evenly? Or save it all for Grace?"
"Oh." Karen's features screwed up in painful decision. "She can have my share. But the others shouldn't be deprived just because Gracie has a yen."
"Karen, at this stage it's not a yen. In a way, for her it's medicine."
"Yeah, sure. And diamond bracelets and sable coats are medicine for me."
"Baby, there's no point in blaming her. It may be my fault. Duke thinks so. When you are my age, you will learn to take people as they are."
"Hush mah mouf. Maybe I'm harsh-but I get tired of bringing friends home and having Mom pass out about dinnertime. Or try to kiss my boy friends in the kitchen."
"She does that?"
"Haven't you seen? No, you probably haven't. Sorry."
"I'm sorry, too. But only on your account. It's a peccadillo, at most. As I was saying, when you get to be my age-"
"Daddy, I don't expect to get to be your age-and we both know it. If we've got even two fifths of liquor, it's probably enough. Why don't you just serve it to whoever needs it?"
The lines in his face got deeper. "Karen, I haven't given up. It's distinctly cooler. We may get out of this yet."
"Well- I guess that's the proper attitude. Speaking of medicine, didn't you squirrel away some Antabuse when we built this monster?"
"Karen, Antabuse doesn't stop the craving; it simply makes the patient deathly ill if he drinks. If your estimate of our chances is correct, can you see any reason why I should force Grace to spend her last hours miserably? I'm not her judge, I'm her husband."
Karen sighed. "Daddy, you have an annoying habit of being right. All right, she can have mine."
"I was merely asking your opinion. You've helped. I've decided."
"Decided how?"
"None of your business, half pint. Get breakfast."
"I'm going to put kerosene in yours. Give me a kiss, Daddy."
He did. "Now pipe down and get to work."
Five of them gathered for breakfast, sitting on the floor as chairs would not stand up. Mrs. Farnham was still lethargic from heavy sedation. The others shared canned meat, crackers, cold Nescafé, canned peaches, and warm comradeship. They were dressed, the men in shorts, Karen in shorts and halter, and Barbara in a muumuu belonging to Karen. Her underwear had been salvaged but was soaked and the air was too moist to dry it.
Hugh announced, "Time for a conference. Suggestions are welcome." He looked at his son.
"One item, Dad-Hugh," Duke answered. "The backhouse took a beating. I patched it and rigged a platform out of boards that had secured the air bottles. Just one thing-" He turned to his sister. "You setter types be careful. It's shaky."
"You be careful. You were the one hard to housebreak. Ask Daddy."
"Stow it, Karen. Good job, Duke. But with six of us I think we should rig a second one. Can we manage that, Joe?"
"Yes, we could. But..."
"But what?"
"Do you know how much oxy is left?"
"I do. We must shift to blower and filter soon. And there is not a working radiation counter left. So we won't know what we'll be letting in. However, we've got to breathe."
"But did you look at the blower?"
"It looked all right."
"It's not. I don't think I can repair it."
Mr. Farnham sighed. "I've had a spare on order for six months. Well, I'll look at it, too. And you, Duke; maybe one of us can fix it."
"Okay."
"Let's assume we can't repair it. Then we use the oxygen as sparingly as possible. After that we can get along, for a while, on the air inside. But there will come a time when we have to open the door."
Nobody said anything. "Smile, somebody!" Hugh went on. "We aren't licked. We'll rig dust filters out of sheets in the door-better than nothing. We still have one radio-the one you mistook for a hearing aid, Barbara. I wrapped it and put it away; it wasn't hurt. I'll go outside and put up an antenna and we can listen to it down here; it could save us. We'll rig a flagpole, from the sides of a bunk perhaps, and fly a flag. A hunting shirt. No, the American flag; I've got one. If we don't make it, we'll go down with our colors flying!"
Karen started clapping. "Don't scoff, Karen."
"I'm not scoffing, Daddy! I'm crying. 'The rockets' red glare-the bombs bursting in air-gave proof through the night- that our flag was still-'" Her voice broke and she buried her face in her hands.
Barbara put an arm around her. Hugh Farnham went on as if nothing had happened. "But we won't go down. Soon they will search this area for survivors. They'll see our flag and take us out-helicopter, probably.