Read Online Norton, Andre - Anthology by Gates to Tomorrow (v1.0) - Free Book Online Page A

much," Stacker said
diagnostically. "You know how this ship handles air?"
                   "Vaguely. I
don't know too much about it. Air management is so vital it's always handled by
an officer or civilian specializing in clinical industry." There was no
apology for his ignorance. It wasn't his job to know air any more than he was
required to know how to practice planetary epidemiology.
                   "The air system in this ship was
designed, installed, and maintained by Synthetic Air, Incorporated, of Great
Kansas. The system uses a modified form of rebreather technic; that is, the
unused oxygen is returned to the ship.
                   "Starting from the venous ducts located
in all compartments, the air is pulled over a precipitron, which removes all
dust, oil, and water droplets and other curd. It then goes into the separator
where the excess oxygen is removed; this passes directly back into the ship's
arterial system.
                   "The remaining atmosphere, containing
nitrogen and carbon dioxide, is then sterilized by passage over plates heated
to five hundred degrees, the gases are then cooled,
and sucked into the ship's lungs.
                   "These lungs are chlorophyl banks. They
are large glassite cylinders filled with synthetic chlorophyl. This is a very
delicate substance with no immune property at all and becomes infected readily.
Just look at the stuff crosseyed and it starts to decay. Nature protects her
chlorophyl by means of the cell membrane, but here we use it in its pure
protoplasmic state.
                   "In each tank are actinic generators. As
the carbon dioxide trickles up from below, photosynthesis converts the carbon
dioxide into carbohydrates. Oxygen is a by-product. It's sucked into the
negatron, humidified, and pushed by blowers through the arterial system."
                   "Very concise, doctor," Nord said.
"Let's go in and check your new detail."
                   Air treatment was located on the third deck,
just aft the crew's galley in the central section of the ship. The mechanical
part of the system was a miracle of chromium and gleaming surgical white. Air
sucked through snaking ducts sounded shrilly defiant; the whirring screams of
the blowers were the overtones of thin-edged menace. The ducts were shiny with
beady sweat, and the compartment's cold, dry air was icily chilly.
                   The air crew stood around with tight, strained
faces. Above all the many activities of the ship, they knew how much the thin
thread of life depended on their proper performance of duty. When the captain
and the doctor walked in, worry lifted from their strong faces, and they turned
to hide the relief from fear.
                   "Let's see the banks." Nord shouted
above the keening scream of air. He could not help but notice the shining
confidence they felt in him.
                   The chlorophyl banks were normally guarded by
locked doors, which opened from the alcohol showers. A ten-minute alcohol
shower on the impervious lightweight armor lessened considerably any danger of
infecting the chloro-phyl banks. Sterile precautions were now unnecessary
because the two doors were already partly open.
                   The space surgeon pointed to a cup by the sump
in the deck of the shower. Nord nodded. "Maybe we're lucky he did get
drunk, or perhaps we wouldn't have caught him before he started putting
chlorine into the air system."
                   Stacker shook his head. "He was too resentful
of authority. Long before he would have gotten to that point, he would have
told you about it in one way or another. He would have had to brag about his
mind. The chances are, though, he would have knocked you out some night, taken
the keys to the bleeder valves, and released all the air in space."
                   "Nice guy to have around the house."
Nord