e it is buried under millions of tons of sand. We
cannot make a new light-supply-ship type of landing grid because we have
no smelter to make beams, nor power to run it if we had, yet if we had
the beams we could get the power to run the smelter we haven't got to
make the beams. And we have no smelter, hence no beams, no power, no
prospect of food or help because we can't land the _Warlock_. It is
strictly a circular problem. Break it at any point and all of it is
solved."

One of the dark men muttered something under his breath to those near
him. There were chuckles.

"Like Mr. Woodchuck," explained the man, when Bordman's eyes fell on
him. "When I was a little boy there was a story like that."

Bordman said icily:

"The problem of coolness and water and food is the same sort of problem.
In six months we could raise food--if we had power to condense
moisture. We've chemicals for hydroponics--if we could keep the plants
from roasting as they grew. Refrigeration and water and food are
practically another circular problem."

Aletha said tentatively:

"Mr. Bordman----"

He turned, annoyed. Aletha said almost apologetically:

"On Chagan there was a--you might call it a woman's coup given to a
woman I know. Her husband raises horses. He's mad about them. And they
live in a sort of home on caterwheels out on the plains--the llanos.
Sometimes they're months away from a settlement. And she loves ice cream
and refrigeration isn't too simple. But she has a Doctorate in Human
History. So she had her husband make an insulated tray on the roof of
their trailer and she makes her ice cream there."

Men looked at her. Her cousin said amusedly:

"That should rate some sort of technical-coup feather!"

"The Council gave her a brass pot--official," said Aletha. "Domestic
science achievement." To Bordman she explained: "Her husband put a tray
on the roof of their house, insulated from the heat of the house below.
During the day there's an insulated cover on top of it, insulating it
from the heat of the sun. At night she takes off the top cover and pours
her custard, thin, in the tray. Then she goes to bed. She has to get up
before daybreak to scrape it up, but by then the ice cream is frozen.
Even on a warm night." She looked from one to another. "I don't know
why. She said it was done in a place called Babylonia on Earth, many
thousands of years ago."

Bordman blinked. Then he said decisively:

"Damn! Who knows how much t