couple of
patent-mixture pills that were supposed to increase the bile flow.
(MacNeil wasn't quite sure what bile was, but he _was_ quite sure that
its increased flow would work wonders within.) A largish tablet of
sodium bicarbonate to combat excess gastric acidity--obviously a
_horrible_ condition, whatever it was. He topped it all off with a
football-shaped capsule containing Liquid Glandolene--"_Guards the
system against glandular imbalance!_"--and felt himself ready to face
the day. At least, until breakfast.

He slipped several bottles into his belt-pak after he had put on his
field uniform, so that he could get at them at mealtimes, and trudged
out toward the mess hall to the meager breakfast that awaited him.

* * * * *

"Specifically," said Colonel Fennister, "what we want to know is: What
are our chances of staying alive until the relief ship comes?"

He and most of the other officers were still groggy-eyed, having had too
much to do to even get an hour's sleep the night before. Only the
phlegmatic Major Grodski looked normal; his eyes were always about half
closed.

Captains Jones and Bellwether, in charge of A and B Companies
respectively, and their lieutenants, Mawkey and Yutang, all looked grim
and irritable.

The civilian components of the policy group looked not one whit better.
Dr. Pilar had been worriedly rubbing at his face, so that his normally
neat beard had begun to take on the appearance of a ruptured mohair
sofa; Dr. Petrelli, the lean, waspish chemist, was nervously trimming
his fingernails with his teeth: and the M.D., Dr. Smathers, had a
hangdog expression on his pudgy face and had begun drumming his fingers
in a staccato tattoo on his round belly.

Dr. Pilar tapped a stack of papers that lay before him on the long table
at which they were all seated. "I have Major Grodski's report on the
remaining food. There is not enough for all of us to live, even on the
most extended rations. Only the strongest will survive."

Colonel Fennister scowled. "You mean to imply that we'll be fighting
over the food like animals before this is over? The discipline of the
Space Service--"

His voice was angry, but Dr. Pilar cut him off. "It may come to
fighting, colonel, but, even if perfect discipline is maintained, what I
say will still be true. Some will die early, leaving more food for the
remaining men. It has been a long time since anything like this has
happened on