Calhoun told him.

“How long before Weald can have a fleet overhead, dropping fusion bombs?” demanded another, grimly.

Calhoun named a time.  But then he said, “I think we can keep them from dropping bombs if we can get the grain fleet and some capable astrogators.”

“How?”

He told them.  It was not possible to tell the whole story of what he considered sensible behavior.  An emotional program can be presented and accepted immediately.  A plan of action which is actually intelligent, considering all elements of a situation, has to be accepted piecemeal.  Even so, the military men growled.

“We’ve plenty of heavy elements,” said one.  “If we’d used our brains, we’d have more bombs than Weald can hope for!  We could turn that whole planet into a smoking cinder!”

“Which,” said Calhoun acidly, “would give you some satisfaction but not an ounce of food!  And food’s more important than satisfaction.  Now, I’m going to take off for Weald again.  I’ll want somebody to build an emergency device for my ship, and I’ll want the four pilots I’ve trained and twenty more candidates.  And I’d like to have some decent rations!  The last trip brought back two million bushels of grain.  You can certainly spare adequate food for twenty men for a few days!”

It took some time to get the special device constructed, but the Med Ship lifted in two days more.  The device for which it had waited was simply a preventive of the disaster overtaking the ship from the mine on Orede.  It was essentially a tank of liquid oxygen, packed in the space from which stores had been taken away.  When the ship’s air supply was pumped past it, first moisture and then CO_{2} froze out.

Then the air flowed over the liquefied oxygen at a rate to replace the CO_{2} with more useful breathing material.  Then the moisture was restored to the air as it warmed again.  For so long as the oxygen lasted, fresh air for any number of men could be kept purified and breathable.  The Med Ship’s normal equipment could take care of no more than ten.  But with this it could journey to Weald with almost any complement on board.

Maril stayed on Dara when the Med Ship left.  Murgatroyd protested shrilly when he discovered her about to be closed out by the closing airlock.

“Chee!” he said indignantly. “Chee!  Chee!”

“No,” said Calhoun.  “We’ll be crowded enough anyhow.  We’ll see her later.”

He nodded to one of the first four student pilots, who crisply made contact with the landing-grid office, and very efficiently supervised as the grid took the ship up.  The other three of the four first-trained men explained every move to sub-classes assigned to each.  Calhoun moved about, listening and making certain that the instruction was up to standard.