ned to show their resentment of the measures taken against them
by marshalling all their forces in a demoralizing plantkrieg.

Thwarted, desperate, Lawton played his last card. He sent five members
of the crew, equipped with blow guns. They returned screaming. Lawton
had to fortify himself with a double whiskey soda before he could face
the look of reproach in their eyes long enough to get all of the
prickles out of them.

From then on pandemonium reigned. Blue funk seized the petty officers
while some of the crew ran amuck. One member of the engine watch
attacked four of his companions with a wrench; another went into the
ship's kitchen and slashed himself with a paring knife. The assistant
engineer leapt through a 'chute opening, after avowing that he preferred
impalement to suffocation.

He _was_ impaled. It was horrible. Looking down Lawton could see his
twisted body dangling on a crimson-stippled thornlike growth forty feet
in height.

Slashaway was standing at his elbow in that Waterloo moment, his
rough-hewn features twitching. "I can't stand it, sir. It's driving me
squirrelly."

"I know, Slashaway. There's something worse than marijuana weed down
there."

Slashaway swallowed hard. "That poor guy down there did the wise thing."

Lawton husked: "Stamp on that idea, Slashaway--kill it. We're stronger
than he was. There isn't an ounce of weakness in us. We've got what it
takes."

"A guy can stand just so much."

"Bosh. There's no limit to what a man can stand."

From the visiplate behind them came an urgent voice: "Radio room tuning
in, sir."

Lawton swung about. On the flickering screen the foggy outlines of a
face appeared and coalesced into sharpness.

The Perseus radio operator was breathless with excitement. "Our
reception is improving, sir. European short waves are coming in strong.
The static is terrific, but we're getting every station on the
continent, and most of the American stations."

Lawton's eyes narrowed to exultant slits. He spat on the deck, a slow
tremor shaking him.

"Slashaway, did you hear that? _We've done it._ We've won against hell
and high water."

"We done what, sir?"

"The bubble, you ape--it must be wearing thin. Hell's bells, do you have
to stand there gaping like a moronic ninepin? I tell you, we've got it
licked."

"I can't stand it, sir. I'm going nuts."

"No you're not. You're slugging the thing inside you that wants to quit.
Slashaway, I'm going to give t