 What was the problem with the tubes of calking compound that the crew was trying to use?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1962. General Finogenov notified Major Winship that the underground blast was scheduled for the following morning. Major Winship, after receiving the message, discussed precautions with the three other Americans. Next morning, before the sunlight exploded, the four of them donned their space suits and went and sat outside the dome, waiting. Black pools of shadows lay in harsh contrast, their edges drawn with geometric precision. Major Winship attempted unsuccessfully to communicate with Base Gagarin. "Help?" " Nyet ," said Major Winship, exhausting his Russian. When—boom?" "Is Pinov," came the reply. "When?" "Boom—boom!" said Pinov. "They've got Pinov on emergency watch this morning," he explained to the other Americans. "He's done it deliberately," said Capt. Wilkins, the eldest of the four Americans. One by one they clicked on their cooling systems. Ultimately, Lt. Chandler said, "This is a little ridiculous. "Ah, it's all Russian. In the airless void of the moon, the blast itself would be silent. A moth's wing of dust would, perhaps, rise and settle beyond the horizon: no more. Perspiration was trickling down his face. "I'll try again," Major Winship said and switched to the emergency channel. "Base Gagarin? "Pinov's still there," Major Winship said. Five minutes later, the perspiration was rivers across his face. "Hell, Charlie, I feel stupid sitting out here," Capt. Lawler said. He crossed with the floating moon-motion to the airlock and entered, closing the door behind him. The darkness slowly filled with air, and the temperature inside the suit declined steadily. At the proper moment of pressure, the inner lock slid open and Major Winship stepped into the illuminated central area. His foot was lifted for the second step when the floor beneath him rose and fell gently, pitching him forward, off balance. For a minute or two, static blanked out the communications completely. It then abated to something in excess of normal. "Well," Lt. Chandler commented, "even though we didn't build this thing to withstand a moonquake, it seems to have stood up all right." Air currents whisked it away and plastered it against a riveted seam of the dome. It pulsed as though it were breathing and then it ruptured.
 They were hardening too fast when connected with air
 They were hardening too fast when connected with air  They took too long to harden and dry  They were expired and unusable  They were too small to fill what they needed