“I don’t want just to survive, hand to mouth,” Ted Tubberman shouted, his chin jerking out belligerently, “cooped up in a building, wondering if those things are going to eat their way through to me!”

“Ted, that’s the bigget bunch of bilgewash I’ve ever heard from a grown man,” Jim Tillek said. “We got a bit of a problem with our new world that I sure as hell am going to help solve. So quit your bitching, and let’s figure out just how to cope. We’re here, man, and we’re going to survive!”

“I want us to send home for help,” someone else said, calm but firm. “I feel that we’re going to need the defenses a sophisticated society can supply, especially as we brought so little technology with us. And most especially if this stuff returns so often.”

“Once we’ve sent for help, we have to take what is sent,” Cabot said quickly.

“Lili, what odds are you taking that Earth would send us help?” Jim Tillek asked.

Ted Tubberman jumped to his feet again. “Don’t bet on it. Vote on it! If this meeting’s really democratic, that is, let’s vote to send a mayday to Federated Sentient Planets.”

“I second the motion,” one of the medics said, along with several others.

“Rudi,” Cabot said, “appoint two other stewards and let’s take a hand vote.”

“Not everyone’s here tonight,” Wade Lorenzo pointed out.

“If they don’t wish to attend a scheduled meeting, they will have to abide by the decision of those who did,” Cabot replied sternly. He was met with shouts of agreement. “Let the vote be taken on the motion before us. Those in favor of sending a homing capsule to the Federated Sentient Planets for assistance, raise their hands.”

Hands were duly raised and counted by the stewards, Rudi Shwartz taking note of the count. When Cabot called for those opposed to sending for help, the majority was marked. As soon as Cabot announced the results, Ted Tubberman was vituperative.

“You’re damned fools. We can’t lick this stuff by ourselves. There’s no place safe from it on this planet. Don’t you remember the EEC reports? The entire planet was eaten up. It took more than two hundred years to recover. What chance have we?”

“That is enough, Tubberman,” Cabot roared at him. “You asked for a vote. It was taken in sight of all, and the majority has decided against sending for help. Even if the decision had been in favor, our situation is serious enough so that certain measures must be initiated immediately.