The Watch Below by James White

uniforms which they stood up in -- and lay down in and

did everything else in -- were so dirty and greasy that they were poor

insulators at best, and in their present surroundings the heavy serge

would be impossible to clean. Besides, it was a well-known fact that a

light, open-weave garment was warmer than a thick, closely woven type,

provided that there was protection against moving currents of air. He

did not have to remind them that Gulf Trader was singularly free from

moving currents of air.

The new outfits were made from sacking and took the shape of a one-piece

coverall with an attached hood. They were washed in sea water and dried

by first battering them against the nearest bulkhead to remove most of

the water and then whirling them around rapidly in the air. As well as

keeping the people warm who were not serving on the generator, the doctor

said that the constant washing and battering dry would soften the fibers

of the sacking so that they would soon feel comfortable against the skin.

But they found that each needed two of these outfits worn one on top of

the other to keep warm, and the girls were kept busy making them for a

long time. Dickson began talking about sweatshops and poor, down-trodden

workers and his plans for forming a union for their protection, several

times a day. Marriage had not changed Dickson's sense of humor, Wallis

thought: it was still lousy.

Apart from working the generator and sewing sacks together there was not

very much for them to do except think about their troubles; and that was

something to be avoided, because they had so many that to dwell on them

was simpiy asking for more trouble -- such as the Murray girl's crying

in her sleep, their sitting and either staring silently at nothing or

arguing endlessly and senselessly about nothing at all until they were

close to murder.

The time, according to the doctor, was late May. It was a little warmer

in the ship, but still bitterly cold. The air was definitely going stale.

Wallis lay with the doctor under their heap of sacking and tried not to

think about these things. What little experience he had of air going foul

told him that it should be hot and stuffy and that he should have a dull

headache and be inclined toward shortness of breath. He was sure that his

breathing was faster and there was no doubt about his headache, but the

air was so cold that it did not seem to be stuffy at all. In these

circumstances it was hard to tell just how foul the air had become or to

estimate the time left to them before it became unbreathable. At the same

time there was always the possibility that it was not nearly so foul as

he thought it was, and that it was bad mainly because he thought about

it too much.

But it was difficult not to think about things. All around him there was

silence and he had to listen hard to hear the sighing and gurgling sounds

of the sea pressing against their hull, the even breathing of the doctor

beside him, or the low muttering that told of Miss Murray's having bad

dreams again. Wallis was beginning to feel comfortably drowsy. He thought

that if he could find something pleasant, or at least constructive,

to think about he might go to sleep.

In some ways their position was similar to that of survivors in an open

boat. In a lifeboat there is food and water enough to live, but men grow

cold and sleepy and die if they don't find ways of exercising their muscles

and keeping awake. In Gulf Trader it was their minds rather than their

bodies which needed the exercise if they were to continue to survive,

and, just as in the hypothetical lifeboat, the exercises they performed

could be utterly senseless in themselves.

He fell asleep thinking about guessing games and ideas more suited to a

children's party than to the dark and frigid hold of a sunken ship. . . .

Wallis was awakened, he did not know how much later, by the sound of Miss

Murray's crying. It was not a loud noise, just the