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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32780-h.zip b/32780-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ccc9b85 --- /dev/null +++ b/32780-h.zip diff --git a/32780-h/32780-h.htm b/32780-h/32780-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f688460 --- /dev/null +++ b/32780-h/32780-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2238 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Asteroid Of Fear, by Raymond Z. Gallun. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Asteroid of Fear, by Raymond Zinke Gallun + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Asteroid of Fear + +Author: Raymond Zinke Gallun + +Release Date: June 12, 2010 [EBook #32780] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTEROID OF FEAR *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h1>ASTEROID of FEAR</h1> + +<h2>By RAYMOND Z. GALLUN</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories March +1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote"><i>All space was electrified as that harsh challenge rang +out ... but John Endlich hesitated. For he saw beyond his own murder—saw +the horror and destruction his death would unleash—and knew he dared +not fight back!</i></div> + +<p>The space ship landed briefly, and John Endlich lifted the huge +Asteroids Homesteaders Office box, which contained everything from a +prefabricated house to toothbrushes for his family, down from the +hold-port without help or visible effort.</p> + +<p>In the tiny gravity of the asteroid, Vesta, doing this was no trouble at +all. But beyond this point the situation was—bitter.</p> + +<p>His two kids, Bubs, seven, and Evelyn, nine—clad in space-suits that +were slightly oversize to allow for the growth of young bodies—were +both bawling. He could hear them through his oxygen-helmet radiophones.</p> + +<p>Around him, under the airless sky of space, stretched desolation that +he'd of course known about beforehand—but which now had assumed that +special and terrible starkness of reality.</p> + +<p>At his elbow, his wife, Rose, her heart-shaped face and grey eyes framed +by the wide face-window of her armor, was trying desperately to choke +back tears, and be brave.</p> + +<p>"Remember—we've <i>got</i> to make good here, Johnny," she was saying. +"Remember what the Homesteaders Office people told us—that with modern +equipment and the right frame of mind, life can be nice out here. It's +worked on other asteroids. What if we are the first farmers to come to +Vesta?... Don't listen to those crazy miners! They're just kidding us! +Don't listen to them! And don't, for gosh sakes, get sore...."</p> + +<p>Rose's words were now like dim echoes of his conscience, and of his +recent grim determination to master his hot temper, his sensitiveness, +his wanderlust, and his penchant for poker and the social +glass—qualities of an otherwise agreeable and industrious nature, that, +on Earth, had always been his undoing. Recently, back in Illinois, he +had even spent six months in jail for all but inflicting murder with his +bare fists on a bullying neighbor whom he had caught whipping a horse. +Sure—but during those six months his farm, the fifth he'd tried to run +in scattered parts of North America, had gone to weeds in spite of +Rose's valiant efforts to take care of it alone....</p> + +<p>Oh, yes—the lessons of all that past personal history should be strong +in his mind. But now will power and Rose's frightened tones of wisdom +both seemed to fade away in his brain, as jeering words from another +source continued to drive jagged splinters into the weakest portion of +his soul:</p> + +<p>"Hi, you hydroponic pun'kin-head!... How yuh like your new claim?... +Nice, ain't it? How about some fresh turnips?... Good luck, yuh +greenhorn.... Hiyuh, papa! Tied to baby's diaper suspenders!... Let the +poor dope alone, guys.... Snooty.... Won't take our likker, hunh? Won't +take our money.... Wifey's boy! Let's make him sociable.... +Haw-Haw-haw.... Hydroponic pun'kin-head!..."</p> + +<p>It was a medley of coarse voices and laughter, matching the row of a +dozen coarse faces and grins that lined the view-ports of the ship. +These men were asteroid miners, space-hardened and space-twisted. They'd +been back to Earth for a while, to raise hell and freshen up, and spend +the money in their then-bulging pockets. Coming out again from Earth, +across the orbit of Mars to the asteroid belt, they had had the Endlichs +as fellow passengers.</p> + +<p>John Endlich had battled valiantly with his feebler side, and with his +social inclinations, all through that long, dreary voyage, to keep clear +of the inevitable griefs that were sure to come to a chap like himself +from involvement with such characters. In the main, it had been a rather +tattered victory. But now, at the final moment of bleak anticlimax, they +took their revenge in guffaws and ridicule, hurling the noise at him +through the radiophones of the space-suit helmets that they held in +their laps—space-suits being always kept handy beneath the +traveler-seats of every interplanetary vessel.</p> + +<p>"... Haw-haw-haw! Drop over to our camp sometime for a little drink, and +a little game, eh, pantywaist? Tain't far. Sure—just drop in on us when +the pressure of domesticity in this beootiful country gets you down.... +When the turnips get you down! Haw-haw-haw! Bring the wife along.... +She's kinda pretty. Ought to have a man-size fella.... Just ask for +me—Alf Neely! Haw-haw-haw!"</p> + +<p>Yeah, Alf Neely was the loudest and the ugliest of John Endlich's +baiters. He had gigantic arms and shoulders, small squinty eyes, and a +pendulous nose. "Haw-haw-haw!..."</p> + +<p>And the others, yelling and hooting, made it a pack: "Man—don't he wish +he was back in Podunk!... What!—no tomatas, Dutch?... What did they +tell yuh back at the Homestead office in Chicago?—that we were in +de-e-esperate need of fresh vegetables out here? Well, where are they, +papa?... Haw-haw-haw!..."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Under the barrage John Endlich's last shreds of common-sense were all +but blotted out by the red murk of fury. He was small and broad—a +stolid-looking thirty-two years old. But now his round and usually +placid face was as red as a fiery moon, and his underlip curled in a +snarl. He might have taken the savage ribbing more calmly. But there was +too much grim fact behind what these asteroid miners said. Besides, out +here he had thought that he would have a better chance to lick the +weaknesses in himself—because he'd <i>have</i> to work to keep his family +alive; because he'd been told that there'd be no one around to distract +him from duty. Yah! The irony of that, now, was maddening.</p> + +<p>For the moment John Endlich was speechless and strangled—but like an +ignited firecracker. Uhunh—ready to explode. His hard body hunched, as +if ready to spring. And the baiting waxed louder. It was like the +yammering of crows, or the roar of a wild surf in his ears. Then came +the last straw. The kids had kept on bawling—more and more violently. +But now they got down to verbal explanations of what they thought was +the matter:</p> + +<p>"Wa-aa-aa-a-ahh-h! Papa—we wanna-go-o-o—hom-m-mm-e!..."</p> + +<p>The timing could not have been better—or worse. The shrieks and howls +of mirth from the miners, a moment ago, were as nothing to what they +were now.</p> + +<p>"Ho-ho-ho! Tell it to Daddy, kids!... Ho-ho-ho! That was a mouthful.... +Ho-ho-ho-ho! Wow!..."</p> + +<p>There is a point at which an extremity of masculine embarrassment can +lead to but one thing—mayhem. Whether the latter is to be inflicted on +the attacked or the attacker remains the only question mark.</p> + +<p>"I'll get you, Alf Neely!" Endlich snarled. "Right now! And I'll get all +the damned, hell-bitten rest of you guys!"</p> + +<p>Endlich was hardly lacking in vigor, himself. Like a squat but +streamlined fighting rooster, rendered a hundred times more agile by the +puny gravity, he would have reached the hold-port threshold in a single +lithe skip—had not Rose, despairing, grabbed him around the middle to +restrain him. Together they slid several yards across the dried-out +surface of the asteroid.</p> + +<p>"Don't, Johnny—please don't!" she wailed.</p> + +<p>Her begging could not have stopped him. Nor could her physical +interference—for more than an instant. Nor could his conscience, nor +his recent determination to keep out of trouble. Not the certainty of +being torn limb from limb, and not hell, itself, could have held him +back, anymore, then.</p> + +<p>Yet he was brought to a halt. It certainly wasn't cowardice that +accomplished this. No.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there was no laughter among the miners. But in a body they +arose from their traveler-seats aboard the ship. Suddenly there was no +more humor in their faces beyond the view-ports. They were itching to be +assaulted. The glitter in Alf Neely's small eyes was about as reassuring +as the glitter in the eyes of a slightly prankish gorilla.</p> + +<p>"We're waitin' for yuh, Mr. Civilization," he rumbled softly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>After that, all space was still—electrified. The icy stars gleamed in +the black sky. The shrunken sun looked on. And John Endlich saw beyond +his own murder. To the thought of his kids—and his wife—left alone out +here, hundreds of millions of miles from Earth, and real law and +order—with these lugs. These guys who had been starved emotionally, and +warped inside by raw space. Coldness crawled into John Endlich's guts, +and seemed to twist steel hooks there, making him sick. The silence of a +vacuum, and of unthinkable distances, and of ghostly remains which must +be left on this fragment of a world that had blown up, maybe fifty +million or more years ago, added its weight to John Endlich's feelings.</p> + +<p>And for his family, he was scared. What hell could not have +accomplished, became fact. His almost suicidal impulse to inflict +violence on his tormenters was strangled, bottled-up—brutally +repressed, and left to impose the pangs of neurosis on his tormented +soul. Narrowing domesticity had won a battle.</p> + +<p>Except, of course, that what he had already said to Alf Neely and +Friends was sufficient to start the Juggernaut that they represented, +rolling. As he picked himself and Rose up from the ground, he saw that +the miners were grimly donning their space-suits, in preparation to +their coming out of the ship to lay him low.</p> + +<p>"Oh—tired, hunh, Pun'kin-head?" Alf Neely growled. "It don't matter, +Dutch. We'll finish you off without you liftin' a finger!"</p> + +<p>In John Endlich the rage of intolerable insults still seethed. But there +was no question, now, of outcome between it and the brassy taste of +danger on his tongue. He knew that even knuckling down, and changing +from man to worm to take back his fighting words, couldn't do any good. +He felt like a martyr, left with his family in a Roman arena, while the +lions approached. His butchery was as good as over....</p> + +<p>Reprieve came presumably by way of the good-sense of the pilot of the +space ship. The hold-port was closed abruptly by a mechanism that could +be operated only from the main control-board. The rocket jets of the +craft emitted a single weak burst of flame. Like a boulder grown agile +and flighty, the ship leaped from the landscape, and arced outward +toward the stars, to curve around the asteroid and disappear behind the +scene's jagged brim. The craft had gone to make its next and final +stop—among the air-domes of the huge mining camp on the other side of +Vesta—the side of torn rocks and rich radioactive ores.</p> + +<p>But before the ship had vanished from sight, John Endlich heard Alf +Neely's grim promise in his helmet radiophones: "We'll be back tonight, +Greenhorn. Lots of times we work night-shift—when it's daytime on this +side of Vesta. We'll be free. Stick around. I'll rub what's left of you +in the dust of your claim!"</p> + +<p>Endlich was alone, then, with the fright in his wife's eyes, the +squalling of his children, and his own abysmal disgust and worry.</p> + +<p>For once he ceased to be a gentle parent. "Bubs! Evelyn!" he snapped. +"Shud-d-d—up-p-p!..."</p> + +<p>The startled silence which ensued was his first personal victory on +Vesta. But the silence, itself, was an insidious enemy. It made his ears +ring. It made even his audible pulsebeats seemed to ache. It bored into +his nerves like a drill. When, after a moment, Rose spoke quaveringly, +he was almost grateful:</p> + +<p>"What do we do, Johnny? We've still got to do what we're supposed to do, +don't we?"</p> + +<p>Whereupon John Endlich allowed himself the luxury and the slight relief +of a torrent of silent cussing inside his head. Damn the obvious +questions of women! Damn the miners. Damn the A.H.O.—the Asteroids +Homesteaders Office—and their corny slogans and posters, meant to hook +suckers like himself! Damn his own dumb hide! Damn the mighty urge to +get drunk! Damn all the bitter circumstances that made doing so +impossible. Damn! Damn! Damn!</p> + +<p>Finished with this orgy, he said meekly: "I guess so, Hon."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>All members of the Endlich family had been looking around them at the +weird Vestal landscape. Through John Endlich's mind again there flashed +a picture of what this asteroid was like. At the Asteroids Homesteaders' +School in Chicago, where his dependents and he had been given several +weeks of orientation instruction, suitable to their separate needs, he +had been shown diagrams and photographs of Vesta. Later, he had of +course seen it from space.</p> + +<p>It was not round, like a major planet or most moons. Rather, it was like +a bomb-fragment; or even more like a shard of a gigantic broken vase. It +was several hundred miles long, and half as thick. One side of it—this +side—was curved; for it had been a segment of the surface of the +shattered planet from which all of the asteroids had come. The other +side was jagged and broken, for it had been torn from the mesoderm of +that tortured mother world.</p> + +<p>From the desolation of his own thoughts, in which the ogre-form of Alf +Neely lurked with its pendent promise of catastrophe soon to come, and +from his own view of other desolation all around him, John Endlich was +suddenly distracted by the comments of his kids. All at once, conforming +to the changeable weather of children's natures regardless of +circumstance, their mood had once more turned bright and adventurous.</p> + +<p>"Look, Pop," Bubs chirped, his round red face beaming now from his +helmet face-window, in spite of his undried tears. "This land all around +here was fields once! You can even see the rows of some kind of stubble! +Like corn-stubble! And over there's a—a—almost like a fence! An' up +there is hills with trees on 'em—some of 'em not even knocked over. But +everything is all dried-out and black and grey and dead! Gosh!"</p> + +<p>"We can see all that, Dopey!" Evelyn, who was older, snapped at Bubs. +"We know that something like people lived on a regular planet here, +awful long ago. Why don't you look over the other way? There's the +house—and maybe the barn and the sheds and the old garden!"</p> + +<p>Bubs turned around. His eyes got very big. "Oh! O-ooh-h-h!" he gasped in +wonder. "Pop! Mom! Look! Don't you see?..."</p> + +<p>"Yeah, we see, Bubs," John Endlich answered.</p> + +<p>For a long moment he'd been staring at those blocklike structures. +One—maybe the house—was of grey stone. It had odd, triangular windows, +which may once have been glazed. Some of the others were of a blackened +material—perhaps cellulose. Wood, that is. All of the buildings were +pushed askew, and partly crumpled from top to bottom, like great +cardboard cartons that had been half crushed.</p> + +<p>Endlich's imagination seemed forced to follow a groove, trying to +picture that last terrible moment, fifty-million years ago. Had the +blast been caused by natural atomic forces at the heart of the planet, +as one theory claimed? Or had a great bomb, as large as an oversized +meteor, come self-propelled from space, to bury itself deep in that +ancient world? A world as big as Mars, its possible enemy—whose weird +inhabitants had been wiped out, in a less spectacular way, perhaps in +the same conflict?</p> + +<p>Endlich's mind grabbed at that brief instant of explosion. The awful +jolt, which must have ended all consciousness, and all capacity for eyes +to see what followed. Perhaps there was a short and terrible passing of +flame. But in swift seconds, great chunks of the planet's crust must +have been hurled outward. In a moment the flame must have died, +dissipated with the suddenly vanishing atmosphere, into the cold vacuum +of the void. Almost instantly, the sky, which had been deep blue before, +must have turned to its present black, with the voidal stars blazing. +There had been no air left to sustain combustion, so buildings and trees +had not continued to burn, if there had been time at all to ignite them. +And, with the same swiftness, all remaining artifacts and surface +features of this chip of a world's crust that was Vesta, had been +plunged into the dual preservatives of the interplanetary +regions—deep-freeze and all but absolute dryness. Yes—the motion of +the few scattered molecules in space was very fast—indicating a high +temperature. But without substance to be hot, there can be no heat. And +so few molecules were there in the void, that while the concept of a +"hot" space remained true, it became tangled at once with the fact that +a <i>practically</i> complete vacuum can have <i>practically</i> no temperature. +Which meant—again in practice—all but absolute zero.</p> + +<p>John Endlich knew. He'd heard the lectures at the Homesteaders' School. +Here was a ghost-land, hundreds of square miles in extent—a region that +had been shifted in a few seconds, from the full prime of life and +motion, to moveless and timeless silence. It was like the mummy of a +man. In its presence there was a chill, a revulsion, and yet a +fascination.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The kids continued to jabber—more excitedly now than before. "Pop! +Mom!" Bubs urged. "Let's go look inside them buildings! Maybe the +<i>things</i> are still there! The people, I mean. All black and dried up, +like the one in the showcase at school; four tentacles they had instead +of arms and legs, the teacher said!"</p> + +<p>"Sure! Let's go!" Evelyn joined in. "I'm not scared to!"</p> + +<p>Yeah, kids' tastes could be pretty gruesome. When you thought most that +you had to shelter them from horror, they were less bothered by it than +you were. John Endlich's lips made a sour line.</p> + +<p>"Stay here, the pair of you!" Rose ordered.</p> + +<p>"Aw—Mom—" Evelyn began to protest.</p> + +<p>"You heard me the first time," their mother answered.</p> + +<p>John Endlich moved to the great box, which had come with them from +Earth. The nervous tension that tore at him—unpleasant and chilling, +driving him toward straining effort—was more than the result of the +shameful and embarrassing memory of his very recent trouble with Alf +Neely and Companions, and the certainty of more trouble to come from +that source. For there was another and even worse enemy. Endlich knew +what it was—</p> + +<p>The awful silence.</p> + +<p>He still looked shamefaced and furious; but now he felt a gentler +sharing of circumstances. "We'll let the snooping go till later, kids," +he growled. "Right now we gotta do what we gotta do—"</p> + +<p>The youngsters seemed to join up with his mood. As he tore the pinchbar, +which had been conveniently attached to the side of the box, free of its +staples, and proceeded to break out supplies, their whimsical musings +fell close to what he was thinking.</p> + +<p>"Vesta," Evelyn said. "They told us at school—remember? Vesta was the +old Roman goddess of hearth and home. Funny—hunh—Dad?"</p> + +<p>Bubs' fancy was vivid, too. "Look, Pop!" he said again, pointing to a +ribbon of what might be concrete, cracked and crumpled as by a terrific +quake, curving away toward the hills, and the broken mountains beyond. +"That was a road! Can't you almost hear some kinda cars and trucks goin' +by?"</p> + +<p>John Endlich's wife, helping him open the great box, also had things to +say, in spite of the worry showing in her face. She touched the +dessicated soil with a gauntleted hand. "Johnny," she remarked +wonderingly. "You can see the splash-marks of the last rain that ever +fell here—"</p> + +<p>"Yeah," Endlich growled without any further comment. Inside himself, he +was fighting the battle of lost things. The blue sky. The shifting +beauty of clouds in sunshine. The warm whisper of wind in trees. The +rattle of traffic. The babble of water. The buzz of insects. The smell +of flowers. The sight of grass waving.... In short, all the evidences of +life.</p> + +<p>"A lot of things that was here once, we'll bring back, won't we, Pop?" +Bubs questioned with astonishing maturity.</p> + +<p>"Hope so," John Endlich answered, keeping his doubts hidden behind +gruffness. Maybe it was a grim joke that here and now every force in +himself was concentrated on substantial objectives—to the exclusion of +his defects. The drive in him was to end the maddening silence, and to +rub out the mood of harsh barrenness, and his own aching homesickness, +by struggling to bring back a little beauty of scenery, and a little of +living motion. It was a civilized urge, a home-building urge, maybe a +narrow urge. But how could anybody stand being here very long, unless +such things were done? If they ever could be. Maybe, willfully, he had +led himself into a grimmer trap than it had even seemed to be—or than +he had ever wanted....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Inside his space suit, he had begun to sweat furiously. And it was more +because of the tension of his nerves than because of the vigor with +which he plied his pinchbar, doing the first task which had to be done. +Steel ribbons were snapped, nails were yanked silently from the great +box, boards were jerked loose.</p> + +<p>In another minute John Endlich and his wife were setting up an airtight +tent, which, when the time came, could be inflated from compressed-air +bottles. They worked somewhat awkwardly, for their instruction period +had been brief, and they were green; but the job was speedily finished. +The first requirement—shelter—was assured.</p> + +<p>Digging again into the vast and varied contents of the box, John Endlich +found some things he had not expected—a fine rifle, a pistol and +ammunition. At which moment an ironic imp seemed to sit on his shoulder, +and laugh derisively. Umhm-m—the Asteroids Homesteaders Office had +filled these boxes according to a precise survey of the needs of a +peaceful settler on Vesta.</p> + +<p>It was like Bubs, with the inquisitiveness of a seven-year-old, to ask: +"What did they think we needed guns for, when they knew there was no +rabbits to shoot at?"</p> + +<p>"I guess they kind of suspected there'd be guys like Alf Neely, son," +John Endlich answered dryly. "Even if they didn't tell us about it."</p> + +<p>The next task prescribed by the Homesteaders' School was to secure a +supply of air and water in quantity. Again, following the instructions +they had received, the Endlichs uncrated and set up an atom-driven +drill. In an hour it had bored to a depth of five-hundred feet. Hauling +up the drill, Endlich lowered an electric heating unit on a cable from +an atomic power-cell, and then capped the casing pipe.</p> + +<p>Yes, strangely enough there was still sufficient water beneath the +surface of Vesta. Its parent planet, like the Earth, had had water in +its crust, that could be tapped by means of wells. And so suddenly had +Vesta been chilled in the cold of space at the time of the parent body's +explosion, that this water had not had a chance to dissipate itself as +vapor into the void, but had been frozen solid. The drying soil above it +had formed a tough shell, which had protected the ice beneath from +disappearance through sublimation...</p> + +<p>Drill down to it, melt it with heat, and it was water again, ready to be +pumped and put to use.</p> + +<p>And water, by electrolysis, was also an easy source of oxygen to +breathe.... The soil, once thawed over a few acres, would also yield +considerable nitrogen and carbon dioxide—the makings of many cubic +meters of atmosphere. The A.H.O. survey expeditions, here on Vesta and +on other similar asteroids which were crustal chips of the original +planet, had done their work well, pathfinding a means of survival here.</p> + +<p>When John Endlich pumped the first turbid liquid, which immediately +froze again in the surface cold, he might, under other, better +circumstances, have felt like cheering. His well was a success. But his +tense mind was racing far ahead to all the endless tasks that were yet +to be done, to make any sense at all out of his claim. Besides, the +short day—eighteen hours long instead of twenty-four, and already far +advanced at the time of his tumultuous landing—was drawing to a close.</p> + +<p>"It'll be dark here mighty quick, Johnny," Rose said. She was looking +scared, again.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>John Endlich considered setting up floodlights, and working on through +the hours of darkness. But such lights would be a dangerous beacon for +prowlers; and when you were inside their area of illumination, it was +difficult to see into the gloom beyond.</p> + +<p>Still, one did not know if the mask of darkness did not afford a greater +invitation to those with evil intent. For a long moment, Endlich was in +an agony of indecision. Then he said:</p> + +<p>"We'll knock off from work now—get in the tent, eat supper, maybe +sleep..."</p> + +<p>But he was remembering Neely's promise to return tonight.</p> + +<p>In another minute the small but dazzling sun had disappeared behind the +broken mountains, as Vesta, unspherical and malformed, tumbled rather +than rotated on its center of gravity. And several hours later, amid +heavy cooking odors inside the now inflated plastic bubble that was the +tent, Endlich was sprawled on his stomach, unable, through well-founded +worry, even to remove his space suit or to allow his family to do so, +though there was breathable air around them. They lay with their helmet +face-windows open. Rose and Evelyn breathed evenly in peaceful sleep.</p> + +<p>Bubs, trying to be very much a man, battled slumber and yawns, and kept +his dad company with scraps of conversation. "Let 'em come, Pop," he +said cheerfully. "Hope they do. We'll shoot 'em all. Won't we, pop? You +got the rifle and the pistol ready, Pop...."</p> + +<p>Yes, John Endlich had his guns ready beside him, all right—for what it +was worth. He wished wryly that things could be as simple as his +hero-worshipping son seemed to think. Thank the Lord that Bubs was so +trusting, for his own peace of mind—the prankish and savage nature of +certain kinds of men, with liquor in their bellies, being what it was. +For John Endlich, having been, on occasion, mildly kindred to such men, +was well able to understand that nature. And understanding, now, chilled +his blood.</p> + +<p>Peering from the small plastic windows of the tent, he kept watching for +hulking black shapes to silhouette themselves against the stars. And he +listened on his helmet phones, for scraps of telltale conversation, +exchanged by short-range radio by men in space armor. Once, he thought +he heard a grunt, or a malicious chuckle. But it may have been just +vagrant static.</p> + +<p>Otherwise, from all around, the stillness of the vacuum was absolute. It +was unnerving. On this airless piece of a planet, an enemy could sneak +up on you, almost without stealth.</p> + +<p>Against that maddening silence, however, Bubs presently had a helpful +and unprompted suggestion: "Hey, Pop!" he whispered hoarsely. "Put the +side of your helmet against the tent-floor, and listen!"</p> + +<p>John Endlich obeyed his kid. In a second cold sweat began to break out +on his body, as intermittent thudding noises reached his ear. In the +absence of an atmosphere, sounds could still be transmitted through the +solid substance of the asteroid.</p> + +<p>It took Endlich a moment to realize that the noises came, not from +nearby, but from far away, on the other side of Vesta. The thudding was +vibrated straight through many miles of solid rock.</p> + +<p>"It's nothing, Bubs," he growled. "Nothing but the blasting in the +mines."</p> + +<p>Bubs said "Oh," as if disappointed. Not long thereafter he was asleep, +leaving his harrassed sire to endure the vigil alone. Endlich dared not +doze off, to rest a little, even for a moment. He could only wait. If an +evil visitation came—as he had been all but sure it must—that would be +bad, indeed. If it didn't come—well—that still meant a sleepless +night, and the postponement of the inevitable. He couldn't win.</p> + +<p>Thus the hours slipped away, until the luminous dial of the clock in the +tent—it had been synchronized to Vestal time—told him that dawn was +near. That was when, through the ground, he heard the faint scraping. A +rustle. It might have been made by heavy space-boots. It came, and then +it stopped. It came again, and stopped once more. As if skulking forms +paused to find their way.</p> + +<p>Out where the ancient and ghostly buildings were, he saw a star wink out +briefly, as if a shape blocked the path of its light. Then it burned +peacefully again. John Endlich's hackles rose. His fists tightened on +both his rifle and pistol.</p> + +<p>He fixed his gaze on the great box, looming blackly, the box that +contained the means of survival for his family and himself, as if he +foresaw the future, a moment away. For suddenly, huge as it was, the box +rocked, and began to move off, as if it had sprouted legs and come +alive.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>John Endlich scrambled to action. He slammed and sealed the face-windows +of the helmets of the members of his family, to protect them from +suffocation. He did the same for himself, and then unzipped the +tent-flap. He darted out with the outrushing air.</p> + +<p>This was a moment with murder poised in every tattered fragment of it. +John Endlich knew. Murder was engrained in his own taut-drawn nerves, +that raged to destroy the trespassers whose pranks had passed the level +of practical humor, and become, by the tampering with vital necessities, +an attack on life itself. But there was a more immediate menace in these +space-twisted roughnecks.... Strike back at them, even in self-defense, +and have it proven!</p> + +<p>He had not the faintest doubt who they were—even though he could not +see their faces in the blackness. Maybe he should lay low—let them have +their way.... But how could he—even apart from his raging temper, and +his honor as a man—when they were making off with his family's and his +own means of survival?</p> + +<p>He had to throw Rose and the kids into the balance—risking them to the +danger that he knew lay beyond his own possible ignoble demise. He did +just that when he raised his pistol, struggling against the awful +impulse of the rage in him—lifted it high enough so that the explosive +bullets that spewed from it would be sure to pass over the heads of the +dark silhouettes that were moving about.</p> + +<p>"Damn you, Neely!" Endlich yelled into his helmet mike, his finger +tightening on the trigger. "Drop that stuff!"</p> + +<p>At that moment the sun's rim appeared at the landscape's jagged edge, +and on this side of airless Vesta complete night was transformed to +complete day, as abruptly as if a switch had been turned.</p> + +<p>Alf Neely and John Endlich blinked at each other. Maybe Neely was +embarrassed a little by his sudden exposure; but if he was, it didn't +show. Probably the bully in him was scared; but this he covered in a +common manner—with a studiedly easy swagger, and a bravado that was not +good sense, but bordered on childish recklessness. Yet he had a trump +card—by the aggressive glint in his eyes, and his unpleasant grin, +Endlich knew that Neely knew that he was afraid for his wife, and +wouldn't start anything unless driven and goaded sheerly wild. Even now, +they were seven to his one.</p> + +<p>"Why, good morning, Neighbor Pun'kin-head!" Neely crooned, his voice a +burlesque of sweetness. "Glad to oblige!"</p> + +<p>He hurled the great box down. As he did so, something glinted in his +gloved paw. He flicked it expertly into the open side of the wooden case +which contained so many things that were vital to the Endlichs—</p> + +<p>It was only a tiny nuclear priming-cap, and the blast was feeble. Even +so, the box burst apart. Splintered crates, sealed cans, great torn +bundles and what not, went skittering far across the plain in every +direction, or were hurled high toward the stars, to begin falling at +last with the laziness of a descending feather.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Neely and his companions hadn't attempted to move out of the way of the +explosion. They only rolled with its force, protected by their space +suits. Endlich rolled, too, helplessly, clutching his pistol and rifle: +still, by some superhuman effort, he managed to regain his feet before +the far more practiced Neely, who was hampered, no doubt, by a few too +many drinks, had even stopped rolling. But when Neely got up, he had +drawn his blaster, a useful tool of his trade, but a hellish weapon, +too, at short range.</p> + +<p>Still, Endlich retained the drop on him.</p> + +<p>Alf Neely chuckled. "Fourth of July! Hallowe'en, Dutch," he said +sweetly. "What's the matter? Don't you think it's fun? Honest to +gosh—you just ain't neighborly!"</p> + +<p>Then he switched his tone. It became a soft snarl that didn't alter his +insolent and confident smirk—and a challenge. He laughed derisively, +almost softly. "I dare you to try to shoot straight, pal," he said. +"Even you got more sense than that."</p> + +<p>And John Endlich was spang against his terrible, blank wall again. Seven +to one. Suppose he got three. There'd be four left—and more in the +camp. But the four would survive him. Space crazy lugs. Anyway half +drunk. Ready to hoot at the stars, even, if they found no better +diversion. Ready to push even any of their own bunch around who seemed +weaker than they. For spite, maybe. Or just for the lid-blowing hell of +it—as a reaction against the awful confinement of being out here.</p> + +<p>"I was gonna smear you all over the place, Greenhorn," Neely rumbled. +"But maybe this way is more fun, hunh? Maybe we'll be back tonight. But +don't wait up for us. Our best regards to your sweet—family."</p> + +<p>John Endlich's blazing and just rage was strangled by that same crawling +dread as before, as he saw them arc upward and away, propelled by the +miniature drive-jets attached to the belts of their space-suits. Their +return to camp, hundreds of miles distant, could be accomplished in a +couple of minutes.</p> + +<p>Rose and the kids were crouched in the deflated tent. But returning +there, John Endlich hardly saw them. He hardly heard their frightened +questions.</p> + +<p>To the trouble with Neely, he could see no end—just one destructive +visitation following another. Maybe, already, mortal damage had been +done. But Endlich couldn't lie down and quit, any more than a snake, +tossed into a fire, could stop trying to crawl out of it, as long as +life lasted. Whether doing so made sense or not, didn't matter. In +Endlich was the savage energy of despair. He was fighting not just Neely +and his crowd, but that other enemy—which was perhaps Neely's main +trouble, too. Yeah—the stillness, the nostalgia, the harshness.</p> + +<p>"No—don't want any breakfast," he replied sharply to Rose' last +question. "Gotta work...."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was like an ant-swarm, rebuilding a trampled nest—oblivious to the +certainty of its being trampled again. First he scrambled and leaped +around, collecting his scattered and damaged gear. He found that his +main atomic battery—so necessary to all that he had to do—was damaged +and unworkable. And he had no hope that he could repair it. But this +didn't stop his feverish activity.</p> + +<p>Now he started unrolling great bolts of a transparent, wire-strengthened +plastic. Patching with an adhesive where explosion-rents had to be +repaired, he cut hundred-yard strips, and, with Rose's help, laid them +edge to edge and fastened them together to make a continuous sheet. +Next, all around its perimeter, he dug a shallow trench. The edges of +the plastic were then attached to massive metal rails, which he buried +in the trench.</p> + +<p>"Sealed to the ground along all the sides, Honey," he growled to Rose. +"Next we fit in the airlock cabinet, at one corner. Then we've got to +see if we can get up enough air to inflate the whole business. That's +the tough part—the way things are...."</p> + +<p>By then the sun was already high. And Endlich was panting +raggedly—mostly from worry. After the massive airlock was in place, +they attached their electrolysis apparatus to the small atomic battery, +which had been used to run the well-driller. The well was in the area +covered by the sheet of plastic, which was now propped up here and there +with long pieces of board from the great box. Over their heads, the +tough, clear material sagged like a tent-roof which has not yet been run +up all the way on its poles.</p> + +<p>Sluggishly the electrolysis apparatus broke down the water, discharging +the hydrogen as waste through a pipe, out over the airless surface of +Vesta—but freeing the oxygen under the plastic roof. Yet from the start +it was obvious that, with insufficient electric power, the process was +too slow.</p> + +<p>"And we need to use heat-coils to thaw the ground, Johnny," Rose said. +"And to keep the place warm. And to bring nitrogen gas up out of the +soil. The few cylinders of the compressed stuff that we've got won't be +enough to make a start. And the carbon dioxide...."</p> + +<p>So John Endlich had to try to repair that main battery. He thought, +after a while, that he might succeed—in time. But then Rose opened the +airlock, and the kids came in to bother him. With all the triumph of a +favorite puppy dragging an over-ripe bone into the house, Bubs bore a +crooked piece of a black substance, hard as wood and more gruesome than +a dried and moldy monkey-pelt.</p> + +<p>"A tentacle!" Evelyn shrilled. "We were up to those old buildings! We +found the people! What's left of them! And lots of stuff. We saw one of +their cars! And there was lots more. Dad—you gotta come and see!..."</p> + +<p>Harassed as he was, John Endlich yielded—because he had a hunch, an +idea of a possibility. So he went with his children. He passed through a +garden, where a pool had been, and where the blackened remains of plants +still projected from beds of dried soil set in odd stone-work. He passed +into chambers far too low for comfortable human habitation. And what did +he know of the uses of most of what he saw there? The niches in the +stone walls? The slanting, ramplike object of blackened wood, beside +which three weird corpses lay? The glazed plaque on the wall, which +could have been a religious emblem, a calendar of some kind, a +decoration, or something beyond human imagining? Yeah—leave such stuff +for Cousin Ernest, the school teacher—if he ever got here.</p> + +<p>In the cylindrical stone shed nearby, John Endlich had a look at the +car—low slung, three-wheeled, a tiller, no seats. Just a flat platform. +All he could figure out about the motor was that steam seemed the link +between atomic energy and mechanical motion.</p> + +<p>Beyond the car was what might be a small tractor. And a lot of odd +tools. But the thing which interested him most was the pattern of copper +ribbons, insulated with a heavy glaze, similar to that which he had seen +traversing walls and ceiling in the first building he had entered. Here, +as before, they connected with queer apparatus which might be stoves and +non-rotary motors, for all he knew. And also with the globes overhead.</p> + +<p>The suggestiveness of all this was plain. And now, at the far end of +that cylindrical shed, John Endlich found the square, black-enamelled +case, where all of those copper ribbons came together.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was sealed, and apparently self-contained. Nothing could have damaged +it very much, in the frigid stillness of millions of years. Its secrets +were hidden within it. But they could not be too unfamiliar. And its +presence was logical. A small, compact power unit. Nervously, he turned +a little wheel. A faint vibration was transmitted to his gloved hand. +And the globe in the ceiling began to glow.</p> + +<p>He shut the thing off again. But how long did it take him to run back to +his sagging creation of clear plastic, while the kids howled gleefully +around him, and return with the end of a long cable, and pliers? How +long did it take him to disconnect all of the glazed copper ribbons, and +substitute the wires of the cable—attaching them to queer +terminal-posts? No—not long.</p> + +<p>The power was not as great as that which his own large atomic battery +would have supplied. But it proved sufficient. And the current was +direct—as it was supposed to be. The electrolysis apparatus bubbled +vigorously. Slowly the tentlike roof began to rise, under the beginnings +of a tiny gas-pressure.</p> + +<p>"That does it, Pops!" Bubs shrilled.</p> + +<p>"Yeah—maybe so," John Endlich agreed almost optimistically. He felt +really tender toward his kids, just then. They'd really helped him, for +once.</p> + +<p>Yes—almost he was hopeful. Until he glanced at the rapidly declining +sun. An all-night vigil. No. Probably worse. Oh Lord—how long could he +last like this? Even if he managed to keep Neely and Company at bay? +Night after night.... All that he had accomplished seemed useless. He +just had so much more that could be wrecked—pushed over with a harsh +laugh, as if it really was something funny.</p> + +<p>John Endlich's flesh crawled. And in his thinking, now, he went a little +against his own determinations. Probably because, in the present state +of his disgust, he needed a drink—bad.</p> + +<p>"Nuts!" he growled lugubriously. "If I'd only been a little more +sociable.... That was where the trouble started. I might have got broke, +but I would've made friends. They think I'm snooty."</p> + +<p>Rose's jaw hardened, as if she took his regrets as an accusation that +she had led him along the straight and narrow path, which—by an +exasperating shift in philosophical principle—now seemed the shortest +route to destruction. But he felt very sorry for her, too; and he didn't +believe that what he had just said was entirely the truth.</p> + +<p>So he added: "I don't mean it, Honey. I'm just griping."</p> + +<p>She softened. "You've got to eat, Johnny," she said. "You haven't eaten +all day. And tonight you've got to sleep. I'll keep watch. Maybe it'll +be all right...."</p> + +<p>Well, anyway it was nice to know that his wife was like that. +Yeah—gentle, and fairminded. After they had all eaten supper, he tried +hard to keep awake. Fear helped him to do so more than ever. Their tent +was now covered by the rising plastic roof—but beyond the clear +substance, he could still watch for starlight to be stopped by prowling +forms, out there at the jagged rim of Vesta. It was hell to feel your +skin puckering, and yet to have exhaustion pushing your eyelids down +inexorably....</p> + +<p>Somewhere he lost the hold on himself. And he dreamed that Alf Neely and +he were fighting with their fists. And he was being beaten to a pulp. +But he was wishing desperately that he could win. Then they could have a +drink, and maybe be friends. But he knew hopelessly that things weren't +quite that simple, either.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He awoke to blink at blazing sunshine. Then his whole body became clammy +with perspiration, as he thought of his lapse from responsibility; +glancing over, he saw that Rose was sleeping as soundly as the kids. His +wide eyes searched for the disaster that he knew he'd find....</p> + +<p>But the wide roof was all the way up, now—intact. It made a great, +squarish bubble, the skin of which was specially treated to stop the +hard and dangerous part of the ultra-violet rays of the sun, and also +the lethal portion of the cosmic rays. It even had an inter-skin layer +of gum that could seal the punctures that grain-of-sand-sized meteors +might make. But meteors, though plentiful in the asteroid belt, were +curiously innocuous. They all moved in much the same direction as the +large asteroids, and at much the same velocity—so their relative speed +had to be low.</p> + +<p>The walls of the small tent around Endlich sagged, where they had bulged +tautly before—showing that there was now a firm and equal pressure +beyond them. The electrolysis apparatus had been left active all night, +and the heating units. This was the result.</p> + +<p>John Endlich was at first almost unbelieving when he saw that nothing +had been wrecked during the night. For a moment he was elated. He woke +up his family by shouting: "Look! The bums stayed away! They didn't +come! Look! We've got five acres of ground, covered by air that we can +breathe!"</p> + +<p>His sense of triumph, however, was soon dampened. Yes—he'd been left +unmolested—for one night. But had that been done only to keep him at a +fruitless and sleepless watch? Probably. Another delicate form of +hazing. And it meant nothing for the night to come—or for those to +follow. So he was in the same harrowing position as before, pursued only +by a wild and defenseless drive to get things done. To find some slight +illusion of security by working to build a sham of normal, Earthly life. +To shut out the cold vacuum, and a little of the bluntness of the voidal +stars. To make certain reassuring sounds possible around him.</p> + +<p>"Got to patch up the pieces of the house, first, and bolt 'em together, +Rose," he said feverishly. "Kids—maybe you could help by setting out +some of the hydroponic troughs for planting. We gotta break plain +ground, too, as soon as it's thawed enough. We gotta...." His words +raced on with his flying thoughts.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was a mad day of toil. The hours were pitifully short. They couldn't +be stretched to cover more than a fraction of all the work that Endlich +wanted to get done. But the low gravity reduced the problem of heavy +lifting to almost zero, at least. And he did get the house assembled—so +that Rose and the kids and he could sleep inside its sealed doors. +Sealed, that is, if Neely or somebody didn't use a blaster or an +explosive cap or bullet—in an orgy of perverted humor.... He still had +no answer for that.</p> + +<p>Rose and the children toiled almost as hard as he did. Rose even managed +to find a couple of dozen eggs, that—by being carefully packed to +withstand a spaceship's takeoff—had withstood the effects of Neely's +idea of fun. She set up an incubator, and put them inside, to be +hatched.</p> + +<p>But, of course, sunset came again—with the same pendent threat as +before. Nerve-twisting. Terrible. And a vigil was all but impossible. +John Endlich was out on his feet—far more than just dog-tired....</p> + +<p>"That damned Neely," he groaned, almost too weary even to swallow his +food, in spite of the luxury of a real, pullman-style supper table. "He +doesn't lose sleep. He can pick his time to come here and raise hob!"</p> + +<p>Rose's glance was strange—almost guilty. "Tonight I think he might have +to stay home—too," she said.</p> + +<p>John Endlich blinked at her.</p> + +<p>"All right," she answered, rather defensively. "So to speak, Johnny, I +called the cops. Yesterday—with the small radio transmitter. When you +and Bubs and Evelyn were up in those old buildings. I reported Neely and +his companions."</p> + +<p>"Reported them?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. To Mr. Mahoney, the boss at the mining camp. I was glad to find +out that there is a little law and order around here. Mr. Mahoney was +nice. He said that he wouldn't be surprised if they were cooled in the +can for a few days, and then confined to the camp area. Matter of fact, +I radioed him again last night. It's been done."</p> + +<p>John Endlich's vast sigh of relief was slightly tainted by the idea that +to call on a policing power for protection was a little bit on the timid +side.</p> + +<p>"Oh," he grunted. "Thanks. I never thought of doing that."</p> + +<p>"Johnny."</p> + +<p>"Yeah?"</p> + +<p>"I kind of got the notion, though—from between the lines of what Mr. +Mahoney said—that there was heavy trouble brewing at the camp. About +conditions, and home-leaves, and increased profit-sharing. Maybe there's +danger of riots and what-not, Johnny. Anyhow, Mr. Mahoney said that we +should 'keep on exercising all reasonable caution.'"</p> + +<p>"Hmm-m—Mr. Mahoney is <i>very</i> nice, ain't he?" Endlich growled.</p> + +<p>"You stop that, Johnny," Rose ordered.</p> + +<p>But her husband had already passed beyond thoughts of jealousy. He was +thinking of the time when Neely would have worked out his sentence, and +would be free to roam around again—no doubt with increased annoyance at +the Endlich clan for causing his restraint. If a riot or something +didn't spring him, beforehand. John Endlich itched to try to tear his +head off. But, of course, the same consequences as before still +applied....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>As it turned out, the Endlichs had a reprieve of two months and fourteen +days, almost to the hour and figured on a strictly Earth-time scale.</p> + +<p>For what it was worth, they accomplished a great deal. In their great +plastic greenhouse, supported like a colossal bubble by the humid, +artificially-warmed air inside it, long troughs were filled with pebbles +and hydroponic solution. And therein tomatoes were planted, and lettuce, +radishes, corn, onions, melons—just about everything in the vegetable +line.</p> + +<p>There remained plenty of ground left over from the five acres, so John +Endlich tinkered with that fifty-million-year-old tractor, figured out +its atomic-power-to-steam principle, and used it to help harrow up the +ancient soil of a smashed planet. He added commercial fertilizers and +nitrates to it—the nitrates were, of course, distinct from the gaseous +nitrogen that had been held, spongelike, by the subsoil, and had helped +supply the greenhouse with atmosphere. Then he harrowed the ground +again. The tractor worked fine, except that the feeble gravity made the +lugs of its wheels slip a lot. He repeated his planting, in the +old-fashioned manner.</p> + +<p>Under ideal conditions, the inside of the great bubble was soon a mass +of growing things. Rose had planted flowers—to be admired, and to help +out the hive of bees, which were essential to some of the other plants, +as well. Nor was the flora limited to the Earthly. Some seeds or spores +had survived, here, from the mother world of the asteroids. They came +out of their eons of suspended animation, to become root and tough, +spiky stalk, and to mix themselves sparsely with vegetation that had +immigrated from Earth, now that livable conditions had been restored +over this little piece of ground. But whether they were fruit or weed, +it was difficult to say.</p> + +<p>Sometimes John Endlich was misled. Sometimes, listening to familiar +sounds, and smelling familiar odors, toward the latter part of his +reprieve, he almost imagined that he'd accomplished his basic desires +here on Vesta—when he had always failed on Earth.</p> + +<p>There was the smell of warm soil, flowers, greenery. He heard irrigation +water trickling. The sweetcorn rustled in the wind of fans he'd set up +to circulate the air. Bees buzzed. Chickens, approaching adolescence, +peeped contentedly as they dusted themselves and stretched luxuriously +in the shadows of the cornfield.</p> + +<p>For John Endlich it was all like the echo of a somnolent summer of his +boyhood. There was peace in it: it was like a yearning fulfilled. An end +of wanderlust for him, here on Vesta. In contrast to the airless +desolation outside, the interior of this five-acre greenhouse was the +one most desirable place to be. So, except for the vaguest of stirrings +sometimes in his mind, there was not much incentive to seek fun +elsewhere. If he ever had time.</p> + +<p>And there was a lot of the legendary, too, in what his family and he had +accomplished. It was like returning a little of the blue sky and the +sounds of life to this land of ruins and roadways and the ghosts of dead +beauty. Maybe there'd be a lot more of all that, soon, when the rumored +major influx of homesteaders reached Vesta.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Johnny," Rose said once. "'Legendary' is a lot nicer word than +'ghostly'. And the ghosts are changing their name to legends."</p> + +<p>Rose had to teach the kids their regular lessons. That children would be +taught was part of the agreement you had to sign at the A. H. O. before +you could be shipped out with them. But the kids had time for whimsy, +too. In make-believe, they took their excursions far back to former +ages. They played that they were "Old People."</p> + +<p>Endlich, having repaired his atomic battery, didn't draw power anymore +from the unit that had supplied the ancient buildings. But the relics +remained. From a device like a phonograph, there was even a bell-like +voice that chanted when a lever was pressed.</p> + +<p>And it was the kids who found the first "tay-tay bug," a day +after its trills were heard from among the new foliage. +"Ta-a-a-ay-y-y—ta-a-a-a-ay-y-yy-y—" The sound was like that of a +little wheel, humming with the speed of rotation, and then slowing to a +scratchy stop.</p> + +<p>A one-legged hopper, with a thin but rigid gliding wing of horn. +Opalescent in its colors. It had evidently hatched from a tiny egg, +preserved by the cold for ages.</p> + +<p>Wise enough not to clutch it with his bare hands, Bubs came running with +it held in a leaf.</p> + +<p>It proved harmless. It was ugly and beautiful. Its great charm was that +it was a vocal echo from the far past.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Sure. Life got to be fairly okay, in spite of hard work. The Endlichs +had conquered the awful stillness with life-sounds. Growing plants kept +the air in their greenhouse fresh and breathable by photosynthesis. John +Endlich did a lot of grinning and whistling. His temper never flared +once. Deep down in him there was only a brooding certainty that the calm +couldn't last. For, from all reports, trouble seethed at the mining +camp. At any time there might be a blowup, a reign of terror that would +roll over all of Vesta. A thing to release pent-up forces in men who had +seen too many hard stars, and had heard too much stillness. They were +like the stuff inside a complaining volcano.</p> + +<p>The Endlichs had sought to time their various crops, so that they would +all be ready for market on as nearly as possible the same day. It was +intended as a trick of advertising—a dramatically sudden appearance of +much fresh produce.</p> + +<p>So, one morning, in a jet-equipped space-suit, Endlich arced out for the +mining camp. Inside the suit he carried samples from his garden. Six +tomatoes. Beauties.</p> + +<p>"Have luck with them, Johnny! But watch out!" Rose flung after him by +helmet phone. With a warm laugh. Just for a moment he felt maybe a +little silly. Tomatoes! But they were what he was banking on, and had +forced toward maturity, most. The way he figured, they were the kind of +fruit that the guys in the camp—gagged by a diet of canned and +dehydrated stuff, because they were too busy chasing mineral wealth to +keep a decent hydroponic garden going—would be hungriest for.</p> + +<p>Well—he was rather too right, in some ways, to be fortunate. Yeah—they +still call what happened the Tomato War.</p> + +<p>Poor Johnny Endlich. He was headed for the commissary dome to display +his wares. But vague urges sidetracked him, and he went into the +recreation dome of the camp, instead.</p> + +<p>And into the bar.</p> + +<p>The petty sin of two drinks hardly merits the punishing trouble which +came his way as, at least partially, a result. With his face-window +open, he stood at the bar with men whom he had never seen before. And he +began to have minor delusions of grandeur. He became a little too proud +of his accomplishments. His wariness slipped into abeyance. He had a +queer idea that, as a farmer with concrete evidence of his skills to +show, he would win respect that had been denied him. Dread of +consequences of some things that he might do, became blurred. His hot +temper began to smolder, under the spark of memory and the fury of +insult and malicious tricks, that, considering the safety of his loved +ones, he had had no way to fight back against. Frustration is a +dangerous force. Released a little, it excited him more. And the tense +mood of the camp—a thing in the very air of the domes—stirred him up +more. The camp—ready to explode into sudden, open barbarism for +days—was now at a point where nothing so dramatic as fresh tomatoes and +farmers in a bar was needed to set the fireworks off.</p> + +<p>John Endlich had his two drinks. Then, with calm and foolhardy +detachment, he set the six tomatoes out in a row before him on the +synthetic mahogany.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He didn't have to wait at all for results. Bloodshot eyes, some of them +belonging to men who had been as gentle as lambs in their ordinary lives +on Earth, turned swiftly alert. Bristly faces showed swift changes of +expression: surprise, interest, greed for possession—but most of all, +aggressive and Satanic humor.</p> + +<p>"<i>Jeez—tamadas!</i>" somebody growled, amazed.</p> + +<p>Under the circumstances, to be aware of opportunity was to act. Big +paws, some bare and calloused, some in the gloves of space suits, +reached out, grabbed. Teeth bit. Juice squirted, landing on hard metal +shaped for the interplanetary regions.</p> + +<p>So far, fine. John Endlich felt prouder of himself—he'd expected a +certain fierceness and lack of manners. But knowing all he did know, he +should have taken time to visualize the inevitable chain-reaction.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, pal.... You're a prince...."</p> + +<p>Sure—but the thanks were more of a mockery than a formality.</p> + +<p>"Hey! None for me? Whatsa idea?..."</p> + +<p>"Shuddup, Mic.... Who's dis guy?... Say, Friend—you wouldn't be that +pun'kin-head we been hearin' about, would you?... Well—my gracious—bet +you are! Dis'll be nice to watch!..."</p> + +<p>"Where's Alf Neely, Cranston? What we need is excitement."</p> + +<p>"Seen him out by the slot-machines. The bar is still out of bounds for +him. He can't come in here."</p> + +<p>"Says who? Boss Man Mahoney? For dis much sport Neely can go straight to +hell! And take Boss Man with him on a pitchfork.... Hey-y-y!... +Ne-e-e-e-l-y-y-y!..."</p> + +<p>The big man whose name was called lumbered to the window at the entrance +to the bar, and peered inside. During the last couple of months he'd +been in a perpetual grouch over his deprivation of liberty, which had +rankled him more as an affront to his dignity.</p> + +<p>When he saw the husband of the authoress of his woes—the little bum, +who, being unable to guard his own, had allowed his woman to holler +"Cop!"—Neely let out a yell of sheer glee. His huge shoulders hunched, +his pendulous nose wobbled, his squinty eyes gleamed and he charged into +the bar.</p> + +<p>John Endlich's first reaction was curiously similar to Neely's. He felt +a flash of savage triumph under the stimulus of the thought of immediate +battle with the cause of most of his troubles. Temper blazed in him.</p> + +<p>Belatedly, however, the awareness came into his mind that he had started +an emotional avalanche that went far beyond the weight and fury of one +man like Neely. Lord, wouldn't he ever learn? It was tough as hell to +crawl, but how could a man put his wife and kids in awful jeopardy at +the hands of a flock of guys whom space had turned into gorillas?</p> + +<p>Endlich tried for peace. It was to his credit that he did so quite +coolly. He turned toward his charging adversary and grinned.</p> + +<p>"Hi, Neely," he said. "Have a drink—on me."</p> + +<p>The big man stopped short, almost in unbelief that anyone could stoop so +low as to offer appeasement. Then he laughed uproariously.</p> + +<p>"Why, I'd be delighted, Mr. Pun'kins," he said in a poisonous-sweet +tone. "Let bygones be bygones. Hey, Charlie! Hear what Pun'kins says? +The drinks are all on him! And how is the Little Lady, Mrs. Pun'kins? +Lonesome, I bet. Glad to hear it. I'm gonna fix that!"</p> + +<p>With a sudden lunge Neely gripped Endlich's hand, and gave it a savage +if momentary twist that sent needles of pain shooting up the +homesteader's arm. It was a goading invitation to battle, which grim +knowledge of the sequel now compelled Endlich to pass up.</p> + +<p>"Don't call him Pun'kins, Neely!" somebody yelled. "It ain't polite to +mispronounce a name. It's Mr. Tomatoes. I just saw. Bet he's got a +million of 'em, out there on the farm!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The whole crowd in the bar broke into coarse shouts and laughs and +comments. "... We ain't good neighbors—neglecting our social duties. +Let's pay 'em a visit.... Pun'kins! What else you got besides tamadas? +Let's go on a picnic!... Hell with the Boss Man!... Yah-h-h—We need +some diversion.... I'm not goin' on shift.... Come on, everybody! +There's gonna be a fight—a moider!... Hell with the Boss Man...."</p> + +<p>Like the flicker of flame flashing through dry gunpowder, you could feel +the excitement spread. Out of the bar. Out of the rec-dome. It would +soon ignite the whole tense camp.</p> + +<p>John Endlich's heart was in his mouth, as his mind pictured the part of +all this that would affect him and his. A bunch of men gone wild, +kicking over the traces, arcing around Vesta, sacking and destroying in +sheer exuberance, like brats on Hallowe'en. They would stop at nothing. +And Rose and the kids....</p> + +<p>This was it. What he'd been so scared of all along. It was at least +partly his own fault. And there was no way to stop it now.</p> + +<p>"I love tomatoes, Mr. Pun'kins," Neely rumbled at Endlich's side, +reaching for the drink that had been set before him. "But first I'm +gonna smear you all over the camp.... Take my time—do a good job.... +Because y'didn't give me any tomatoes...."</p> + +<p>Whereat, John Endlich took the only slender advantage at hand for +him—surprise. With all the strength of his muscular body, backed up by +dread and pent-up fury, he sent a gloved fist crashing straight into +Neely's open face-window. Even the pang in his well-protected knuckles +was a satisfaction—for he knew that the damage to Neely's ugly features +must be many times greater.</p> + +<p>The blow, occurring under the conditions of Vesta's tiny gravity, had an +entirely un-Earthly effect. Neely, eyes glazing, floated gently up and +away. And Endlich, since he had at the last instant clutched Neely's +arm, was drawn along with the miner in a graceful, arcing flight through +the smoky air of the bar. Both armored bodies, lacking nothing in +inertia, tore through the tough plastic window, and they bounced lightly +on the pavement of the main section of the rec-dome.</p> + +<p>Neely was as limp as a wet rag, sleeping peacefully, blood all over his +crushed face. But that he was out of action signified no peace, when so +many of his buddies were nearby, and beginning to seethe, like a swarm +of hornets.</p> + +<p>So there was an element of despair in Endlich's quick actions as he +slammed Neely's face-window and his own shut, picked up his enemy, and +used his jets to propel him in the long leap to the airlock of the dome. +He had no real plan. He just had the ragged and all but hopeless thought +of using Neely as a hostage—as a weapon in the bitter and desperate +attempt to defend his wife and children from the mob that would be +following close behind him....</p> + +<p>Tumbling end over end with his light but bulky burden, he sprawled at +the threshold of the airlock, where the guard, posted there, had stepped +hastily out of his way. Again, capricious luck, surprise, and swift +action were on his side. He pressed the control-button of the lock, and +squirmed through its double valves before the startled guard could stop +him.</p> + +<p>Then he slammed his jets wide, and aimed for the horizon.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was a wild journey—for, to fly straight in a frictionless vacuum, +any missile must be very well balanced; and the inertia and the slight +but unwieldy weight of Neely's bulk disturbed such balance in his own +jet-equipped space suit. The journey was made, then, not in a smooth +arc, but in a series of erratic waverings. But what Endlich lacked in +precise direction, he made up in sheer reckless, dread-driven speed.</p> + +<p>From the very start of that wild flight, he heard voices in his helmet +phones:</p> + +<p>"Damn pun'kin-head greenhorn! Did you see how he hit Neely, Schmidt? +Yeah—by surprise.... Yeah—Kuzak. I saw. He hit without warning.... +Damn yella yokel.... Who's comin' along to get him?..."</p> + +<p>Sure—there was another side to it—other voices:</p> + +<p>"Shucks—Neely had it coming to him. I hope the farmer really murders +that big lunkhead.... You ain't kiddin', Muir. I was glad to see his +face splatter like a rotten tamata...."</p> + +<p>Okay—fine. It was good to know you had some sensible guys on your side. +But what good was it, when the camp as a whole was boiling over from its +internal troubles? There were more than enough roughnecks to do a mighty +messy job—fast.</p> + +<p>Panting with tension, Endlich swooped down before his greenhouse, and +dragged Neely inside through the airlock. For a fleeting instant the +sights and sounds and smells that impinged on his senses, as he opened +his face-window once more, brought him a regret. The rustle of corn, the +odor of greenery, the chicken voices—there was home in all of this. +Something pastoral and beautiful and orderly—gained with hard work. And +something brought back—restored—from the remote past. The buzzing of +the tay-tay bug was even a real echo from that smashed yet undoubtedly +once beautiful world of antiquity.</p> + +<p>But these were fragile concerns, beside the desperate question of the +immediate safety of Rose and the kids.... Already cries and shouts and +comments were coming faintly through his helmet phones again:</p> + +<p>"Get the yokel! Get the bum!... We'll fix his wagon good...."</p> + +<p>The pack was on the way—getting closer with every heartbeat. Never in +his life had Endlich experienced so harrowing a time as this; never, if +by some miracle he lived, could he expect another equal to it.</p> + +<p>To stand and fight, as he would have done if he were alone, would mean +simply that he would be cut down. To try the peacemaking of appeasement, +would have probably the same result—plus, for himself, the dishonor of +contempt.</p> + +<p>So, where was there to turn, with grim, unanswering blankness on every +side?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>John Endlich felt mightily an old yearning—that of a fundamentally +peaceful man for a way to oppose and win against brutal, overpowering +odds without using either serious violence or the even more futile +course of supine submission. Here on Vesta, this had been the issue he +had faced all along. In many ages and many nations—and probably on many +planets throughout the universe—others had faced it before him.</p> + +<p>To his straining and tortured mind the trite and somewhat mocking +answers came: Psychology. Salesmanship. The selling of respect for one's +self.</p> + +<p>Ah, yes. These were fine words. Glib words. But the question, "How?" was +more bitter and derisive than ever.</p> + +<p>Still, he had to try something—to make at least a forlorn effort. And +now, from certain beliefs that he had, coupled with some vague +observations that he had made during the last hour, a tattered +suggestion of what form that effort might take, came to him.</p> + +<p>As for his personal defects that had given him trouble in the +past—well—he was lugubriously sure that he had learned a final lesson +about liquor. For him it always meant trouble. As for wanderlust, and +the gambling and hell-raising urge—he had been willing to stay put on +Vesta, named for the goddess of home, for weeks, now. And he was now +about to make his last great gamble. If he lost, he wouldn't be alive to +gamble again. If, by great good-fortune, he won—well he was certain +that all the charm of unnecessary chance-taking would, by the memory of +these awful moments, be forever poisoned in him.</p> + +<p>Now Rose and the youngsters came hurrying toward him.</p> + +<p>"Back so soon, Johnny?" Rose called. "What's this? What happened?"</p> + +<p>"Who's the guy, Pop?" Evelyn asked. "Oh—Baloney Nose.... What are you +doing with him?"</p> + +<p>But by then they all had guessed some of the tense mood, and its +probable meaning.</p> + +<p>"Neely's pals are coming, Honey," Endlich said quietly. "It's the +showdown. Hide the kids. And yourself. Quick. Under the house, maybe."</p> + +<p>Rose's pale eyes met his. They were comprehending, they were worried, +but they were cool. He could see that she didn't want to leave him.</p> + +<p>Evelyn looked as though she might begin to whimper; but her small jaw +hardened.</p> + +<p>Bubs' lower lip trembled. But he said valiantly: "I'll get the guns, +Pop, I'm stayin' with yuh."</p> + +<p>"No you're not, son," John Endlich answered. "Get going. Orders. Get the +guns to keep with you—to watch out for Mom and Sis."</p> + +<p>Rose took the kids away with her, without a word. Endlich wondered how +to describe what was maybe her last look at him. There were no fancy +words in his mind. Just Love. And deep concern.</p> + +<p>Alf Neely was showing signs of returning consciousness. Which was good. +Still dragging him, Endlich went and got a bushel basket. It was filled +to the brim with ripe, red tomatoes, but he could carry its tiny weight +on the palm of one hand, scarcely noticing that it was there.</p> + +<p>For an instant Endlich scanned the sky, through the clear plastic roof +of the great bubble. He saw at least a score of shapes in space armor, +arcing nearer—specks in human form, glowing with reflected sunlight, +like little hurtling moons among the stars. Neely's pals. In a moment +they would arrive.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Endlich took Neely and the loaded basket close to the transparent side +of the greenhouse, nearest the approaching roughnecks. There he removed +Neely's oxygen helmet, hoping that, maybe, this might deter his friends +a little from rupturing the plastic of the huge bubble and letting the +air out. It was a feeble safeguard, for, in all probability, in case of +such rupture, Neely would be rescued from death by smothering and cold +and the boiling of his blood, simply by having his helmet slammed back +on again.</p> + +<p>Next, Endlich dumped the contents of the basket on the ground, inverted +it, and sat Neely upon it. The big man had recovered consciousness +enough to be merely groggy by now. Endlich slapped his battered face +vigorously, to help clear his head—after having, of course, relieved +him of the blaster at his belt.</p> + +<p>Endlich left his own face-window open, so that the sounds of Neely's +voice could penetrate to the mike of his own helmet phone, thus to be +transmitted to the helmet phones of Neely's buddies.</p> + +<p>Endlich was anything but calm inside, with the wild horde, as +irresponsible in their present state of mind as a pack of idiot baboons, +bearing down on him. But he forced his tone to be conversational when he +spoke.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Neely," he said. "You mentioned you liked tomatoes. Maybe you +were kidding. Anyhow I brought you along home with me, so you could have +some. Here on the ground, right in front of you, is a whole bushel. The +regular asteroids price—considering the trouble it takes to grow 'em, +and the amount of dough a guy like you can make for himself out here, is +five bucks apiece. But for you, right now, they're all free. Here, have +a nice fresh, ripe one, Neely."</p> + +<p>The big man glared at his captor for a second, after he had looked +dazedly around. He would have leaped to his feet—except that the muzzle +of his own blaster was leveled at the center of his chest, at a range of +not over twenty inches. For a fleeting instant, Neely looked scared and +prudent. Then he saw his pals, landing like a flock of birds, just +beyond the transparent side of the greenhouse. And he heard their +shouts, coming loudly from Endlich's helmet-phones:</p> + +<p>"We come after you, Neely! We'll get the damn yokel off your neck.... +Come on, guys—let's turn the damn place upside down!..."</p> + +<p>Neely grew courageous—yes, maybe it did take a certain animal nerve to +do what he did. His battered and bloodied lip curled.</p> + +<p>"Whatdayuh think you're up to, Pun'kin-head!" he snarled slowly, his +tone dripping contempt for the insanely foolish. He laughed sourly, +"Haw-haw-haw." Then his face twisted into a confident and mocking leer. +To carry the mockery farther, a big paw reached out and grabbed the +proffered tomato from Endlich's hand. "Sure—thanks. Anything to +oblige!" He took a great bite from the fruit, clowning the action +with a forced expression of relish. "Ummm!" he grunted. In danger, he +was being the showman, playing for the approval of his pals. He was +proving his comic coolness—that even now he was master of the +situation, and was in no hurry to be rescued. "Come on, punk!" he +ordered Endlich. "Where is the next one, seeing you're so generous? Be +polite to your guest!"</p> + +<p>Endlich handed him a second tomato. But as he did so, it seemed all the +things he dreaded would happen were breathing down his back. For the +faces that he glimpsed beyond the plastic showed the twisted expressions +that betray the point where savage humor imperceptibly becomes +murderous. A dozen blasters were leveled at him.</p> + +<p>But the eyes of the men outside showed, too, the kind of interest that +any odd procedure can command. They stood still for a moment, watching, +commenting:</p> + +<p>"Hey—Neely! See if you can down the next one with one bite!... Don't +eat 'em all, Neely! Save some for us!..."</p> + +<p>Endlich was following no complete plan. He had only the feeling that +somewhere here there might be a dramatic touch that, by a long chance, +would yield him a toehold on the situation. Without a word, he gave +Neely a third tomato. Then a fourth and a fifth....</p> + +<p>Neely kept gobbling and clowning.</p> + +<p>Yeah—but can this sort of horseplay go on until one man has consumed an +entire bushel of tomatoes? The question began to shine speculatively in +the faces of the onlookers. It began to appeal to their wolfish sense of +comedy. And it started to betray itself—in another manner—in Neely's +face.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>After the fifteenth tomato, he burped and balked. "That's enough kiddin' +around, Pun'kin-head," he growled. "Get away with your damned garden +truck! I should be beatin' you to a grease-spot right this minute! +Why—I—"</p> + +<p>Then Neely tried to lunge for the blaster. As Endlich squeezed the +trigger, he turned the weapon aside a trifle, so that the beam of energy +flicked past Neely's ear and splashed garden soil that turned +incandescent, instantly.</p> + +<p>John Endlich might have died in that moment, cut down from behind. That +he wasn't probably meant that, from the position of complete underdog +among the spectators, his popularity had risen some.</p> + +<p>"Neely," he said with a grin, "how can you start beatin', when you ain't +done eatin'? Neely—here I am, trying to be friendly and hospitable, and +you aren't co-operating. A whole bushel of juicy tomatoes—symbols of +civilization way the hell out here in the asteroids—and you haven't +even made a dent in 'em yet! What's the matter, Neely? Lose your +appetite? Here! Eat!..."</p> + +<p>Endlich's tone was falsely persuasive. For there was a steely note of +command in it. And the blaster in Endlich's hand was pointed straight at +Neely's chest.</p> + +<p>Neely's eyes began to look frightened and sullen. He shifted +uncomfortably, and the bushel basket creaked under his weight. "You're +yella as any damn pun'kin!" he said loudly. "You don't fight fair!... +Guys—what's the matter with you? Get this nut with the blaster offa +me!..."</p> + +<p>"Hmm—yella," Endlich seemed to muse. "Maybe not as yella as you were +once—coming around here at night with a whole gang, not so long ago—"</p> + +<p>"Call <i>me</i> yella?" Nelly hollered. "Why, you lousy damn yokel, if you +didn't have that blaster—"</p> + +<p>Endlich said grimly, "But I got it, friend!" He sent a stream of energy +from the blaster right past Neely's head, so close that a shock of the +other's hair smoked and curled into black wisps. "And watch your +language—my wife and kids can hear you—"</p> + +<p>Neely's thick shoulders hunched. He ducked nervously, rubbing his +head—and for the first time there was a hint of genuine alarm in his +voice. "All right," he growled, "all right! Take it easy—"</p> + +<p>Something deep within John Endlich relaxed—a cold tight knot seemed to +unwind—for, at that moment, he knew that Neely was beginning to lose. +The big man's evident discomfort and fear were the marks of weakness—to +his followers at least; and with them, he could never be a leader, +again. Moreover, he had allowed himself to be maneuvered into the +position of being the butt of a practical joke, that, by his own code, +must be followed up, to its nasty, if interesting, outcome. The +spectators began to resemble Romans at the circus, with Neely the +victim. And the victim's downfall was tragically swift.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Neely! You heard what Pun'kins said," somebody yelled. +"Jeez—a whole bushel. Let's see how many you can eat, Neely.... Damned +if this ain't gonna be rich! Don't let us down, Neely! Nobody's hurtin' +yuh. All you have to do is eat—all them nice tamadas.... Hey, Neely—if +that bushel ain't enough for you, I'll personally buy you another, at +the reg'lar price. Haw-haw-haw.... Lucky Neely! Look at him! Having a +swell banquet. Better than if he was home.... Haw-haw-haw.... Come on, +Pun'kins—make him eat!..."</p> + +<p>Yeah, under certain conditions human nature can be pretty fickle. +Wonderingly, John Endlich felt himself to be respected—the Top Man. The +guy who had shown courage and ingenuity, and was winning, by the harsh +code of men who had been roughened and soured by space—by life among +the asteroids.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>For a little while then, he had to be hard. He thrust another tomato +toward Neely, at the same time directing a thin stream from the +blaster just past the big nose. Neely ate six more tomatoes with a will, +his eyes popping, sweat streaming down his forehead.</p> + +<p>Endlich's next blaster-stream barely missed Neely's booted toe. The +persuasive shot was worth fifty-five more dollars in garden fruit +consumed. The crowd gave with mock cheers and bravos, and demanded more +action.</p> + +<p>"That makes thirty-two.... Come on, Neely—that's just a good start. You +got a long, long ways to go.... Come on, Pun'kins—bet you can stuff +fifty into him...."</p> + +<p>To goad Neely on in this ludicrous and savage game, Endlich next just +scorched the metal at Neely's shoulder. It isn't to be said that Endlich +didn't enjoy his revenge—for all the anguish and real danger that Neely +had caused him. But as this fierce yet childish sport went on, and the +going turned really rough for the big asteroid miner, Endlich's anger +began to be mixed with self-disgust. He'd always be a hot-tempered guy; +he couldn't help that. But now, satisfaction, and a hopeful glimpse of +peace ahead, burned the fury out of him and touched him with shame. +Still, for a little more, he had to go on. Again and again, as before, +he used that blaster. But, as he did so, he talked, ramblingly, knowing +that the audience, too, would hear what he said. Maybe, in a way, it was +a lecture; but he couldn't help that:</p> + +<p>"Have another tomato, Neely. Sorry to do things like this—but it's your +own way. So why should you complain? Funny, ain't it? A man can get even +too many tomatoes. Civilized tomatoes. Part of something most guys +around here have been homesick for, for a long time.... Maybe that's +what has been most of the trouble out here in the asteroids. Not enough +civilization. On Earth we were used to certain standards—in spite of +being rough enough there, too. Here, the traces got kicked over. But on +this side of Vesta, an idea begins to soak in: This used to be nice +country—blue sky, trees growing. Some of that is coming back, Neely. +And order with it. Because, deep in our guts, that's what we all want. +And fresh vegetables'll help.... Have another tomato, Neely. Or should +we call it enough, guys?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<h3><i>Endlich's voice was steely ... "Sorry to do things like +this—but it's your way!"</i></h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p>"Neely, you ain't gonna quit now?" somebody guffawed. "You're doin' +almost good. Haw-haw!"</p> + +<p>Neely's face was purple. His eyes were bloodshot. His mouth hung partly +open. "Gawd—no—please!" he croaked.</p> + +<p>An embarrassed hush fell over the crowd. Back home on Earth, they had +all been more-or-less average men. Finally someone said, expressing the +intrusion among them of the better dignity of man:</p> + +<p>"Aw—let the poor dope go...."</p> + +<p>Then and there, John Endlich sold what was left of his first bushel of +tomatoes. One of his customers—the once loud-mouthed Schmidt—even +said, rather stiffly, "Pun'kins—you're all right."</p> + +<p>And these guys were the real roughnecks of the mining camp.</p> + +<p>Is it necessary to mention that, as they were leaving, Neely lost his +pride completely, soiling the inside of his helmet's face-window so that +he could scarcely see out of it? That, amid the raucous laughter of his +companions, which still sounded slightly self-conscious and pitying. +Thus Alf Neely sank at last to the level of helpless oblivion and +nonentity.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A week of Vestal days later, in the afternoon, Rose and the kids came to +John Endlich, who was toiling over his cucumbers.</p> + +<p>"Their name is Harper, Pop!" Bubs shouted.</p> + +<p>"And they've got three children!" Evelyn added.</p> + +<p>John Endlich, straightened, shaking a kink out of his tired back. "Who?" +he questioned.</p> + +<p>"The people who are going to be our new neighbors, Johnny," Rose said +happily. "We just picked up the news on the radio—from their ship, +which is approaching from space right now! I hope they're nice folks. +And, Johnny—there used to be country schools with no more than five +pupils...."</p> + +<p>"Sure," John Endlich said.</p> + +<p>Something felt warm around his heart. Leave it to a woman to think of a +school—the symbol of civilization, marching now across the void. John +Endlich thought of the trouble at the mining camp, which his first load +of fresh vegetables, picked up by a small space boat, had perhaps helped +to end. He thought of the relics in this strange land. Things that were +like legends of a lost pastoral beauty. Things that could come back. The +second family of homesteaders was almost here. Endlich was reconciled to +domesticity. He felt at home; he felt proud.</p> + +<p>Bees buzzed near him. A tay-tay bug from a perished era, hummed and +scraped out a mournful sound.</p> + +<p>"I wonder if the Harper kids'll call you Mr. Pun'kins, Pop," Bubs +remarked. "Like the miners still do."</p> + +<p>John Endlich laughed. But somehow he was prouder than ever. Maybe the +name would be a legend, too.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Asteroid of Fear, by Raymond Zinke Gallun + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTEROID OF FEAR *** + +***** This file should be named 32780-h.htm or 32780-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/7/8/32780/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Asteroid of Fear + +Author: Raymond Zinke Gallun + +Release Date: June 12, 2010 [EBook #32780] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTEROID OF FEAR *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + ASTEROID of FEAR + + By RAYMOND Z. GALLUN + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories March +1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: _All space was electrified as that harsh challenge rang +out ... but John Endlich hesitated. For he saw beyond his own murder--saw +the horror and destruction his death would unleash--and knew he dared +not fight back!_] + +The space ship landed briefly, and John Endlich lifted the huge +Asteroids Homesteaders Office box, which contained everything from a +prefabricated house to toothbrushes for his family, down from the +hold-port without help or visible effort. + +In the tiny gravity of the asteroid, Vesta, doing this was no trouble at +all. But beyond this point the situation was--bitter. + +His two kids, Bubs, seven, and Evelyn, nine--clad in space-suits that +were slightly oversize to allow for the growth of young bodies--were +both bawling. He could hear them through his oxygen-helmet radiophones. + +Around him, under the airless sky of space, stretched desolation that +he'd of course known about beforehand--but which now had assumed that +special and terrible starkness of reality. + +At his elbow, his wife, Rose, her heart-shaped face and grey eyes framed +by the wide face-window of her armor, was trying desperately to choke +back tears, and be brave. + +"Remember--we've _got_ to make good here, Johnny," she was saying. +"Remember what the Homesteaders Office people told us--that with modern +equipment and the right frame of mind, life can be nice out here. It's +worked on other asteroids. What if we are the first farmers to come to +Vesta?... Don't listen to those crazy miners! They're just kidding us! +Don't listen to them! And don't, for gosh sakes, get sore...." + +Rose's words were now like dim echoes of his conscience, and of his +recent grim determination to master his hot temper, his sensitiveness, +his wanderlust, and his penchant for poker and the social +glass--qualities of an otherwise agreeable and industrious nature, that, +on Earth, had always been his undoing. Recently, back in Illinois, he +had even spent six months in jail for all but inflicting murder with his +bare fists on a bullying neighbor whom he had caught whipping a horse. +Sure--but during those six months his farm, the fifth he'd tried to run +in scattered parts of North America, had gone to weeds in spite of +Rose's valiant efforts to take care of it alone.... + +Oh, yes--the lessons of all that past personal history should be strong +in his mind. But now will power and Rose's frightened tones of wisdom +both seemed to fade away in his brain, as jeering words from another +source continued to drive jagged splinters into the weakest portion of +his soul: + +"Hi, you hydroponic pun'kin-head!... How yuh like your new claim?... +Nice, ain't it? How about some fresh turnips?... Good luck, yuh +greenhorn.... Hiyuh, papa! Tied to baby's diaper suspenders!... Let the +poor dope alone, guys.... Snooty.... Won't take our likker, hunh? Won't +take our money.... Wifey's boy! Let's make him sociable.... +Haw-Haw-haw.... Hydroponic pun'kin-head!..." + +It was a medley of coarse voices and laughter, matching the row of a +dozen coarse faces and grins that lined the view-ports of the ship. +These men were asteroid miners, space-hardened and space-twisted. They'd +been back to Earth for a while, to raise hell and freshen up, and spend +the money in their then-bulging pockets. Coming out again from Earth, +across the orbit of Mars to the asteroid belt, they had had the Endlichs +as fellow passengers. + +John Endlich had battled valiantly with his feebler side, and with his +social inclinations, all through that long, dreary voyage, to keep clear +of the inevitable griefs that were sure to come to a chap like himself +from involvement with such characters. In the main, it had been a rather +tattered victory. But now, at the final moment of bleak anticlimax, they +took their revenge in guffaws and ridicule, hurling the noise at him +through the radiophones of the space-suit helmets that they held in +their laps--space-suits being always kept handy beneath the +traveler-seats of every interplanetary vessel. + +"... Haw-haw-haw! Drop over to our camp sometime for a little drink, and +a little game, eh, pantywaist? Tain't far. Sure--just drop in on us when +the pressure of domesticity in this beootiful country gets you down.... +When the turnips get you down! Haw-haw-haw! Bring the wife along.... +She's kinda pretty. Ought to have a man-size fella.... Just ask for +me--Alf Neely! Haw-haw-haw!" + +Yeah, Alf Neely was the loudest and the ugliest of John Endlich's +baiters. He had gigantic arms and shoulders, small squinty eyes, and a +pendulous nose. "Haw-haw-haw!..." + +And the others, yelling and hooting, made it a pack: "Man--don't he wish +he was back in Podunk!... What!--no tomatas, Dutch?... What did they +tell yuh back at the Homestead office in Chicago?--that we were in +de-e-esperate need of fresh vegetables out here? Well, where are they, +papa?... Haw-haw-haw!..." + + * * * * * + +Under the barrage John Endlich's last shreds of common-sense were all +but blotted out by the red murk of fury. He was small and broad--a +stolid-looking thirty-two years old. But now his round and usually +placid face was as red as a fiery moon, and his underlip curled in a +snarl. He might have taken the savage ribbing more calmly. But there was +too much grim fact behind what these asteroid miners said. Besides, out +here he had thought that he would have a better chance to lick the +weaknesses in himself--because he'd _have_ to work to keep his family +alive; because he'd been told that there'd be no one around to distract +him from duty. Yah! The irony of that, now, was maddening. + +For the moment John Endlich was speechless and strangled--but like an +ignited firecracker. Uhunh--ready to explode. His hard body hunched, as +if ready to spring. And the baiting waxed louder. It was like the +yammering of crows, or the roar of a wild surf in his ears. Then came +the last straw. The kids had kept on bawling--more and more violently. +But now they got down to verbal explanations of what they thought was +the matter: + +"Wa-aa-aa-a-ahh-h! Papa--we wanna-go-o-o--hom-m-mm-e!..." + +The timing could not have been better--or worse. The shrieks and howls +of mirth from the miners, a moment ago, were as nothing to what they +were now. + +"Ho-ho-ho! Tell it to Daddy, kids!... Ho-ho-ho! That was a mouthful.... +Ho-ho-ho-ho! Wow!..." + +There is a point at which an extremity of masculine embarrassment can +lead to but one thing--mayhem. Whether the latter is to be inflicted on +the attacked or the attacker remains the only question mark. + +"I'll get you, Alf Neely!" Endlich snarled. "Right now! And I'll get all +the damned, hell-bitten rest of you guys!" + +Endlich was hardly lacking in vigor, himself. Like a squat but +streamlined fighting rooster, rendered a hundred times more agile by the +puny gravity, he would have reached the hold-port threshold in a single +lithe skip--had not Rose, despairing, grabbed him around the middle to +restrain him. Together they slid several yards across the dried-out +surface of the asteroid. + +"Don't, Johnny--please don't!" she wailed. + +Her begging could not have stopped him. Nor could her physical +interference--for more than an instant. Nor could his conscience, nor +his recent determination to keep out of trouble. Not the certainty of +being torn limb from limb, and not hell, itself, could have held him +back, anymore, then. + +Yet he was brought to a halt. It certainly wasn't cowardice that +accomplished this. No. + +Suddenly there was no laughter among the miners. But in a body they +arose from their traveler-seats aboard the ship. Suddenly there was no +more humor in their faces beyond the view-ports. They were itching to be +assaulted. The glitter in Alf Neely's small eyes was about as reassuring +as the glitter in the eyes of a slightly prankish gorilla. + +"We're waitin' for yuh, Mr. Civilization," he rumbled softly. + + * * * * * + +After that, all space was still--electrified. The icy stars gleamed in +the black sky. The shrunken sun looked on. And John Endlich saw beyond +his own murder. To the thought of his kids--and his wife--left alone out +here, hundreds of millions of miles from Earth, and real law and +order--with these lugs. These guys who had been starved emotionally, and +warped inside by raw space. Coldness crawled into John Endlich's guts, +and seemed to twist steel hooks there, making him sick. The silence of a +vacuum, and of unthinkable distances, and of ghostly remains which must +be left on this fragment of a world that had blown up, maybe fifty +million or more years ago, added its weight to John Endlich's feelings. + +And for his family, he was scared. What hell could not have +accomplished, became fact. His almost suicidal impulse to inflict +violence on his tormenters was strangled, bottled-up--brutally +repressed, and left to impose the pangs of neurosis on his tormented +soul. Narrowing domesticity had won a battle. + +Except, of course, that what he had already said to Alf Neely and +Friends was sufficient to start the Juggernaut that they represented, +rolling. As he picked himself and Rose up from the ground, he saw that +the miners were grimly donning their space-suits, in preparation to +their coming out of the ship to lay him low. + +"Oh--tired, hunh, Pun'kin-head?" Alf Neely growled. "It don't matter, +Dutch. We'll finish you off without you liftin' a finger!" + +In John Endlich the rage of intolerable insults still seethed. But there +was no question, now, of outcome between it and the brassy taste of +danger on his tongue. He knew that even knuckling down, and changing +from man to worm to take back his fighting words, couldn't do any good. +He felt like a martyr, left with his family in a Roman arena, while the +lions approached. His butchery was as good as over.... + +Reprieve came presumably by way of the good-sense of the pilot of the +space ship. The hold-port was closed abruptly by a mechanism that could +be operated only from the main control-board. The rocket jets of the +craft emitted a single weak burst of flame. Like a boulder grown agile +and flighty, the ship leaped from the landscape, and arced outward +toward the stars, to curve around the asteroid and disappear behind the +scene's jagged brim. The craft had gone to make its next and final +stop--among the air-domes of the huge mining camp on the other side of +Vesta--the side of torn rocks and rich radioactive ores. + +But before the ship had vanished from sight, John Endlich heard Alf +Neely's grim promise in his helmet radiophones: "We'll be back tonight, +Greenhorn. Lots of times we work night-shift--when it's daytime on this +side of Vesta. We'll be free. Stick around. I'll rub what's left of you +in the dust of your claim!" + +Endlich was alone, then, with the fright in his wife's eyes, the +squalling of his children, and his own abysmal disgust and worry. + +For once he ceased to be a gentle parent. "Bubs! Evelyn!" he snapped. +"Shud-d-d--up-p-p!..." + +The startled silence which ensued was his first personal victory on +Vesta. But the silence, itself, was an insidious enemy. It made his ears +ring. It made even his audible pulsebeats seemed to ache. It bored into +his nerves like a drill. When, after a moment, Rose spoke quaveringly, +he was almost grateful: + +"What do we do, Johnny? We've still got to do what we're supposed to do, +don't we?" + +Whereupon John Endlich allowed himself the luxury and the slight relief +of a torrent of silent cussing inside his head. Damn the obvious +questions of women! Damn the miners. Damn the A.H.O.--the Asteroids +Homesteaders Office--and their corny slogans and posters, meant to hook +suckers like himself! Damn his own dumb hide! Damn the mighty urge to +get drunk! Damn all the bitter circumstances that made doing so +impossible. Damn! Damn! Damn! + +Finished with this orgy, he said meekly: "I guess so, Hon." + + * * * * * + +All members of the Endlich family had been looking around them at the +weird Vestal landscape. Through John Endlich's mind again there flashed +a picture of what this asteroid was like. At the Asteroids Homesteaders' +School in Chicago, where his dependents and he had been given several +weeks of orientation instruction, suitable to their separate needs, he +had been shown diagrams and photographs of Vesta. Later, he had of +course seen it from space. + +It was not round, like a major planet or most moons. Rather, it was like +a bomb-fragment; or even more like a shard of a gigantic broken vase. It +was several hundred miles long, and half as thick. One side of it--this +side--was curved; for it had been a segment of the surface of the +shattered planet from which all of the asteroids had come. The other +side was jagged and broken, for it had been torn from the mesoderm of +that tortured mother world. + +From the desolation of his own thoughts, in which the ogre-form of Alf +Neely lurked with its pendent promise of catastrophe soon to come, and +from his own view of other desolation all around him, John Endlich was +suddenly distracted by the comments of his kids. All at once, conforming +to the changeable weather of children's natures regardless of +circumstance, their mood had once more turned bright and adventurous. + +"Look, Pop," Bubs chirped, his round red face beaming now from his +helmet face-window, in spite of his undried tears. "This land all around +here was fields once! You can even see the rows of some kind of stubble! +Like corn-stubble! And over there's a--a--almost like a fence! An' up +there is hills with trees on 'em--some of 'em not even knocked over. But +everything is all dried-out and black and grey and dead! Gosh!" + +"We can see all that, Dopey!" Evelyn, who was older, snapped at Bubs. +"We know that something like people lived on a regular planet here, +awful long ago. Why don't you look over the other way? There's the +house--and maybe the barn and the sheds and the old garden!" + +Bubs turned around. His eyes got very big. "Oh! O-ooh-h-h!" he gasped in +wonder. "Pop! Mom! Look! Don't you see?..." + +"Yeah, we see, Bubs," John Endlich answered. + +For a long moment he'd been staring at those blocklike structures. +One--maybe the house--was of grey stone. It had odd, triangular windows, +which may once have been glazed. Some of the others were of a blackened +material--perhaps cellulose. Wood, that is. All of the buildings were +pushed askew, and partly crumpled from top to bottom, like great +cardboard cartons that had been half crushed. + +Endlich's imagination seemed forced to follow a groove, trying to +picture that last terrible moment, fifty-million years ago. Had the +blast been caused by natural atomic forces at the heart of the planet, +as one theory claimed? Or had a great bomb, as large as an oversized +meteor, come self-propelled from space, to bury itself deep in that +ancient world? A world as big as Mars, its possible enemy--whose weird +inhabitants had been wiped out, in a less spectacular way, perhaps in +the same conflict? + +Endlich's mind grabbed at that brief instant of explosion. The awful +jolt, which must have ended all consciousness, and all capacity for eyes +to see what followed. Perhaps there was a short and terrible passing of +flame. But in swift seconds, great chunks of the planet's crust must +have been hurled outward. In a moment the flame must have died, +dissipated with the suddenly vanishing atmosphere, into the cold vacuum +of the void. Almost instantly, the sky, which had been deep blue before, +must have turned to its present black, with the voidal stars blazing. +There had been no air left to sustain combustion, so buildings and trees +had not continued to burn, if there had been time at all to ignite them. +And, with the same swiftness, all remaining artifacts and surface +features of this chip of a world's crust that was Vesta, had been +plunged into the dual preservatives of the interplanetary +regions--deep-freeze and all but absolute dryness. Yes--the motion of +the few scattered molecules in space was very fast--indicating a high +temperature. But without substance to be hot, there can be no heat. And +so few molecules were there in the void, that while the concept of a +"hot" space remained true, it became tangled at once with the fact that +a _practically_ complete vacuum can have _practically_ no temperature. +Which meant--again in practice--all but absolute zero. + +John Endlich knew. He'd heard the lectures at the Homesteaders' School. +Here was a ghost-land, hundreds of square miles in extent--a region that +had been shifted in a few seconds, from the full prime of life and +motion, to moveless and timeless silence. It was like the mummy of a +man. In its presence there was a chill, a revulsion, and yet a +fascination. + + * * * * * + +The kids continued to jabber--more excitedly now than before. "Pop! +Mom!" Bubs urged. "Let's go look inside them buildings! Maybe the +_things_ are still there! The people, I mean. All black and dried up, +like the one in the showcase at school; four tentacles they had instead +of arms and legs, the teacher said!" + +"Sure! Let's go!" Evelyn joined in. "I'm not scared to!" + +Yeah, kids' tastes could be pretty gruesome. When you thought most that +you had to shelter them from horror, they were less bothered by it than +you were. John Endlich's lips made a sour line. + +"Stay here, the pair of you!" Rose ordered. + +"Aw--Mom--" Evelyn began to protest. + +"You heard me the first time," their mother answered. + +John Endlich moved to the great box, which had come with them from +Earth. The nervous tension that tore at him--unpleasant and chilling, +driving him toward straining effort--was more than the result of the +shameful and embarrassing memory of his very recent trouble with Alf +Neely and Companions, and the certainty of more trouble to come from +that source. For there was another and even worse enemy. Endlich knew +what it was-- + +The awful silence. + +He still looked shamefaced and furious; but now he felt a gentler +sharing of circumstances. "We'll let the snooping go till later, kids," +he growled. "Right now we gotta do what we gotta do--" + +The youngsters seemed to join up with his mood. As he tore the pinchbar, +which had been conveniently attached to the side of the box, free of its +staples, and proceeded to break out supplies, their whimsical musings +fell close to what he was thinking. + +"Vesta," Evelyn said. "They told us at school--remember? Vesta was the +old Roman goddess of hearth and home. Funny--hunh--Dad?" + +Bubs' fancy was vivid, too. "Look, Pop!" he said again, pointing to a +ribbon of what might be concrete, cracked and crumpled as by a terrific +quake, curving away toward the hills, and the broken mountains beyond. +"That was a road! Can't you almost hear some kinda cars and trucks goin' +by?" + +John Endlich's wife, helping him open the great box, also had things to +say, in spite of the worry showing in her face. She touched the +dessicated soil with a gauntleted hand. "Johnny," she remarked +wonderingly. "You can see the splash-marks of the last rain that ever +fell here--" + +"Yeah," Endlich growled without any further comment. Inside himself, he +was fighting the battle of lost things. The blue sky. The shifting +beauty of clouds in sunshine. The warm whisper of wind in trees. The +rattle of traffic. The babble of water. The buzz of insects. The smell +of flowers. The sight of grass waving.... In short, all the evidences of +life. + +"A lot of things that was here once, we'll bring back, won't we, Pop?" +Bubs questioned with astonishing maturity. + +"Hope so," John Endlich answered, keeping his doubts hidden behind +gruffness. Maybe it was a grim joke that here and now every force in +himself was concentrated on substantial objectives--to the exclusion of +his defects. The drive in him was to end the maddening silence, and to +rub out the mood of harsh barrenness, and his own aching homesickness, +by struggling to bring back a little beauty of scenery, and a little of +living motion. It was a civilized urge, a home-building urge, maybe a +narrow urge. But how could anybody stand being here very long, unless +such things were done? If they ever could be. Maybe, willfully, he had +led himself into a grimmer trap than it had even seemed to be--or than +he had ever wanted.... + + * * * * * + +Inside his space suit, he had begun to sweat furiously. And it was more +because of the tension of his nerves than because of the vigor with +which he plied his pinchbar, doing the first task which had to be done. +Steel ribbons were snapped, nails were yanked silently from the great +box, boards were jerked loose. + +In another minute John Endlich and his wife were setting up an airtight +tent, which, when the time came, could be inflated from compressed-air +bottles. They worked somewhat awkwardly, for their instruction period +had been brief, and they were green; but the job was speedily finished. +The first requirement--shelter--was assured. + +Digging again into the vast and varied contents of the box, John Endlich +found some things he had not expected--a fine rifle, a pistol and +ammunition. At which moment an ironic imp seemed to sit on his shoulder, +and laugh derisively. Umhm-m--the Asteroids Homesteaders Office had +filled these boxes according to a precise survey of the needs of a +peaceful settler on Vesta. + +It was like Bubs, with the inquisitiveness of a seven-year-old, to ask: +"What did they think we needed guns for, when they knew there was no +rabbits to shoot at?" + +"I guess they kind of suspected there'd be guys like Alf Neely, son," +John Endlich answered dryly. "Even if they didn't tell us about it." + +The next task prescribed by the Homesteaders' School was to secure a +supply of air and water in quantity. Again, following the instructions +they had received, the Endlichs uncrated and set up an atom-driven +drill. In an hour it had bored to a depth of five-hundred feet. Hauling +up the drill, Endlich lowered an electric heating unit on a cable from +an atomic power-cell, and then capped the casing pipe. + +Yes, strangely enough there was still sufficient water beneath the +surface of Vesta. Its parent planet, like the Earth, had had water in +its crust, that could be tapped by means of wells. And so suddenly had +Vesta been chilled in the cold of space at the time of the parent body's +explosion, that this water had not had a chance to dissipate itself as +vapor into the void, but had been frozen solid. The drying soil above it +had formed a tough shell, which had protected the ice beneath from +disappearance through sublimation... + +Drill down to it, melt it with heat, and it was water again, ready to be +pumped and put to use. + +And water, by electrolysis, was also an easy source of oxygen to +breathe.... The soil, once thawed over a few acres, would also yield +considerable nitrogen and carbon dioxide--the makings of many cubic +meters of atmosphere. The A.H.O. survey expeditions, here on Vesta and +on other similar asteroids which were crustal chips of the original +planet, had done their work well, pathfinding a means of survival here. + +When John Endlich pumped the first turbid liquid, which immediately +froze again in the surface cold, he might, under other, better +circumstances, have felt like cheering. His well was a success. But his +tense mind was racing far ahead to all the endless tasks that were yet +to be done, to make any sense at all out of his claim. Besides, the +short day--eighteen hours long instead of twenty-four, and already far +advanced at the time of his tumultuous landing--was drawing to a close. + +"It'll be dark here mighty quick, Johnny," Rose said. She was looking +scared, again. + + * * * * * + +John Endlich considered setting up floodlights, and working on through +the hours of darkness. But such lights would be a dangerous beacon for +prowlers; and when you were inside their area of illumination, it was +difficult to see into the gloom beyond. + +Still, one did not know if the mask of darkness did not afford a greater +invitation to those with evil intent. For a long moment, Endlich was in +an agony of indecision. Then he said: + +"We'll knock off from work now--get in the tent, eat supper, maybe +sleep..." + +But he was remembering Neely's promise to return tonight. + +In another minute the small but dazzling sun had disappeared behind the +broken mountains, as Vesta, unspherical and malformed, tumbled rather +than rotated on its center of gravity. And several hours later, amid +heavy cooking odors inside the now inflated plastic bubble that was the +tent, Endlich was sprawled on his stomach, unable, through well-founded +worry, even to remove his space suit or to allow his family to do so, +though there was breathable air around them. They lay with their helmet +face-windows open. Rose and Evelyn breathed evenly in peaceful sleep. + +Bubs, trying to be very much a man, battled slumber and yawns, and kept +his dad company with scraps of conversation. "Let 'em come, Pop," he +said cheerfully. "Hope they do. We'll shoot 'em all. Won't we, pop? You +got the rifle and the pistol ready, Pop...." + +Yes, John Endlich had his guns ready beside him, all right--for what it +was worth. He wished wryly that things could be as simple as his +hero-worshipping son seemed to think. Thank the Lord that Bubs was so +trusting, for his own peace of mind--the prankish and savage nature of +certain kinds of men, with liquor in their bellies, being what it was. +For John Endlich, having been, on occasion, mildly kindred to such men, +was well able to understand that nature. And understanding, now, chilled +his blood. + +Peering from the small plastic windows of the tent, he kept watching for +hulking black shapes to silhouette themselves against the stars. And he +listened on his helmet phones, for scraps of telltale conversation, +exchanged by short-range radio by men in space armor. Once, he thought +he heard a grunt, or a malicious chuckle. But it may have been just +vagrant static. + +Otherwise, from all around, the stillness of the vacuum was absolute. It +was unnerving. On this airless piece of a planet, an enemy could sneak +up on you, almost without stealth. + +Against that maddening silence, however, Bubs presently had a helpful +and unprompted suggestion: "Hey, Pop!" he whispered hoarsely. "Put the +side of your helmet against the tent-floor, and listen!" + +John Endlich obeyed his kid. In a second cold sweat began to break out +on his body, as intermittent thudding noises reached his ear. In the +absence of an atmosphere, sounds could still be transmitted through the +solid substance of the asteroid. + +It took Endlich a moment to realize that the noises came, not from +nearby, but from far away, on the other side of Vesta. The thudding was +vibrated straight through many miles of solid rock. + +"It's nothing, Bubs," he growled. "Nothing but the blasting in the +mines." + +Bubs said "Oh," as if disappointed. Not long thereafter he was asleep, +leaving his harrassed sire to endure the vigil alone. Endlich dared not +doze off, to rest a little, even for a moment. He could only wait. If an +evil visitation came--as he had been all but sure it must--that would be +bad, indeed. If it didn't come--well--that still meant a sleepless +night, and the postponement of the inevitable. He couldn't win. + +Thus the hours slipped away, until the luminous dial of the clock in the +tent--it had been synchronized to Vestal time--told him that dawn was +near. That was when, through the ground, he heard the faint scraping. A +rustle. It might have been made by heavy space-boots. It came, and then +it stopped. It came again, and stopped once more. As if skulking forms +paused to find their way. + +Out where the ancient and ghostly buildings were, he saw a star wink out +briefly, as if a shape blocked the path of its light. Then it burned +peacefully again. John Endlich's hackles rose. His fists tightened on +both his rifle and pistol. + +He fixed his gaze on the great box, looming blackly, the box that +contained the means of survival for his family and himself, as if he +foresaw the future, a moment away. For suddenly, huge as it was, the box +rocked, and began to move off, as if it had sprouted legs and come +alive. + + * * * * * + +John Endlich scrambled to action. He slammed and sealed the face-windows +of the helmets of the members of his family, to protect them from +suffocation. He did the same for himself, and then unzipped the +tent-flap. He darted out with the outrushing air. + +This was a moment with murder poised in every tattered fragment of it. +John Endlich knew. Murder was engrained in his own taut-drawn nerves, +that raged to destroy the trespassers whose pranks had passed the level +of practical humor, and become, by the tampering with vital necessities, +an attack on life itself. But there was a more immediate menace in these +space-twisted roughnecks.... Strike back at them, even in self-defense, +and have it proven! + +He had not the faintest doubt who they were--even though he could not +see their faces in the blackness. Maybe he should lay low--let them have +their way.... But how could he--even apart from his raging temper, and +his honor as a man--when they were making off with his family's and his +own means of survival? + +He had to throw Rose and the kids into the balance--risking them to the +danger that he knew lay beyond his own possible ignoble demise. He did +just that when he raised his pistol, struggling against the awful +impulse of the rage in him--lifted it high enough so that the explosive +bullets that spewed from it would be sure to pass over the heads of the +dark silhouettes that were moving about. + +"Damn you, Neely!" Endlich yelled into his helmet mike, his finger +tightening on the trigger. "Drop that stuff!" + +At that moment the sun's rim appeared at the landscape's jagged edge, +and on this side of airless Vesta complete night was transformed to +complete day, as abruptly as if a switch had been turned. + +Alf Neely and John Endlich blinked at each other. Maybe Neely was +embarrassed a little by his sudden exposure; but if he was, it didn't +show. Probably the bully in him was scared; but this he covered in a +common manner--with a studiedly easy swagger, and a bravado that was not +good sense, but bordered on childish recklessness. Yet he had a trump +card--by the aggressive glint in his eyes, and his unpleasant grin, +Endlich knew that Neely knew that he was afraid for his wife, and +wouldn't start anything unless driven and goaded sheerly wild. Even now, +they were seven to his one. + +"Why, good morning, Neighbor Pun'kin-head!" Neely crooned, his voice a +burlesque of sweetness. "Glad to oblige!" + +He hurled the great box down. As he did so, something glinted in his +gloved paw. He flicked it expertly into the open side of the wooden case +which contained so many things that were vital to the Endlichs-- + +It was only a tiny nuclear priming-cap, and the blast was feeble. Even +so, the box burst apart. Splintered crates, sealed cans, great torn +bundles and what not, went skittering far across the plain in every +direction, or were hurled high toward the stars, to begin falling at +last with the laziness of a descending feather. + + * * * * * + +Neely and his companions hadn't attempted to move out of the way of the +explosion. They only rolled with its force, protected by their space +suits. Endlich rolled, too, helplessly, clutching his pistol and rifle: +still, by some superhuman effort, he managed to regain his feet before +the far more practiced Neely, who was hampered, no doubt, by a few too +many drinks, had even stopped rolling. But when Neely got up, he had +drawn his blaster, a useful tool of his trade, but a hellish weapon, +too, at short range. + +Still, Endlich retained the drop on him. + +Alf Neely chuckled. "Fourth of July! Hallowe'en, Dutch," he said +sweetly. "What's the matter? Don't you think it's fun? Honest to +gosh--you just ain't neighborly!" + +Then he switched his tone. It became a soft snarl that didn't alter his +insolent and confident smirk--and a challenge. He laughed derisively, +almost softly. "I dare you to try to shoot straight, pal," he said. +"Even you got more sense than that." + +And John Endlich was spang against his terrible, blank wall again. Seven +to one. Suppose he got three. There'd be four left--and more in the +camp. But the four would survive him. Space crazy lugs. Anyway half +drunk. Ready to hoot at the stars, even, if they found no better +diversion. Ready to push even any of their own bunch around who seemed +weaker than they. For spite, maybe. Or just for the lid-blowing hell of +it--as a reaction against the awful confinement of being out here. + +"I was gonna smear you all over the place, Greenhorn," Neely rumbled. +"But maybe this way is more fun, hunh? Maybe we'll be back tonight. But +don't wait up for us. Our best regards to your sweet--family." + +John Endlich's blazing and just rage was strangled by that same crawling +dread as before, as he saw them arc upward and away, propelled by the +miniature drive-jets attached to the belts of their space-suits. Their +return to camp, hundreds of miles distant, could be accomplished in a +couple of minutes. + +Rose and the kids were crouched in the deflated tent. But returning +there, John Endlich hardly saw them. He hardly heard their frightened +questions. + +To the trouble with Neely, he could see no end--just one destructive +visitation following another. Maybe, already, mortal damage had been +done. But Endlich couldn't lie down and quit, any more than a snake, +tossed into a fire, could stop trying to crawl out of it, as long as +life lasted. Whether doing so made sense or not, didn't matter. In +Endlich was the savage energy of despair. He was fighting not just Neely +and his crowd, but that other enemy--which was perhaps Neely's main +trouble, too. Yeah--the stillness, the nostalgia, the harshness. + +"No--don't want any breakfast," he replied sharply to Rose' last +question. "Gotta work...." + + * * * * * + +He was like an ant-swarm, rebuilding a trampled nest--oblivious to the +certainty of its being trampled again. First he scrambled and leaped +around, collecting his scattered and damaged gear. He found that his +main atomic battery--so necessary to all that he had to do--was damaged +and unworkable. And he had no hope that he could repair it. But this +didn't stop his feverish activity. + +Now he started unrolling great bolts of a transparent, wire-strengthened +plastic. Patching with an adhesive where explosion-rents had to be +repaired, he cut hundred-yard strips, and, with Rose's help, laid them +edge to edge and fastened them together to make a continuous sheet. +Next, all around its perimeter, he dug a shallow trench. The edges of +the plastic were then attached to massive metal rails, which he buried +in the trench. + +"Sealed to the ground along all the sides, Honey," he growled to Rose. +"Next we fit in the airlock cabinet, at one corner. Then we've got to +see if we can get up enough air to inflate the whole business. That's +the tough part--the way things are...." + +By then the sun was already high. And Endlich was panting +raggedly--mostly from worry. After the massive airlock was in place, +they attached their electrolysis apparatus to the small atomic battery, +which had been used to run the well-driller. The well was in the area +covered by the sheet of plastic, which was now propped up here and there +with long pieces of board from the great box. Over their heads, the +tough, clear material sagged like a tent-roof which has not yet been run +up all the way on its poles. + +Sluggishly the electrolysis apparatus broke down the water, discharging +the hydrogen as waste through a pipe, out over the airless surface of +Vesta--but freeing the oxygen under the plastic roof. Yet from the start +it was obvious that, with insufficient electric power, the process was +too slow. + +"And we need to use heat-coils to thaw the ground, Johnny," Rose said. +"And to keep the place warm. And to bring nitrogen gas up out of the +soil. The few cylinders of the compressed stuff that we've got won't be +enough to make a start. And the carbon dioxide...." + +So John Endlich had to try to repair that main battery. He thought, +after a while, that he might succeed--in time. But then Rose opened the +airlock, and the kids came in to bother him. With all the triumph of a +favorite puppy dragging an over-ripe bone into the house, Bubs bore a +crooked piece of a black substance, hard as wood and more gruesome than +a dried and moldy monkey-pelt. + +"A tentacle!" Evelyn shrilled. "We were up to those old buildings! We +found the people! What's left of them! And lots of stuff. We saw one of +their cars! And there was lots more. Dad--you gotta come and see!..." + +Harassed as he was, John Endlich yielded--because he had a hunch, an +idea of a possibility. So he went with his children. He passed through a +garden, where a pool had been, and where the blackened remains of plants +still projected from beds of dried soil set in odd stone-work. He passed +into chambers far too low for comfortable human habitation. And what did +he know of the uses of most of what he saw there? The niches in the +stone walls? The slanting, ramplike object of blackened wood, beside +which three weird corpses lay? The glazed plaque on the wall, which +could have been a religious emblem, a calendar of some kind, a +decoration, or something beyond human imagining? Yeah--leave such stuff +for Cousin Ernest, the school teacher--if he ever got here. + +In the cylindrical stone shed nearby, John Endlich had a look at the +car--low slung, three-wheeled, a tiller, no seats. Just a flat platform. +All he could figure out about the motor was that steam seemed the link +between atomic energy and mechanical motion. + +Beyond the car was what might be a small tractor. And a lot of odd +tools. But the thing which interested him most was the pattern of copper +ribbons, insulated with a heavy glaze, similar to that which he had seen +traversing walls and ceiling in the first building he had entered. Here, +as before, they connected with queer apparatus which might be stoves and +non-rotary motors, for all he knew. And also with the globes overhead. + +The suggestiveness of all this was plain. And now, at the far end of +that cylindrical shed, John Endlich found the square, black-enamelled +case, where all of those copper ribbons came together. + + * * * * * + +It was sealed, and apparently self-contained. Nothing could have damaged +it very much, in the frigid stillness of millions of years. Its secrets +were hidden within it. But they could not be too unfamiliar. And its +presence was logical. A small, compact power unit. Nervously, he turned +a little wheel. A faint vibration was transmitted to his gloved hand. +And the globe in the ceiling began to glow. + +He shut the thing off again. But how long did it take him to run back to +his sagging creation of clear plastic, while the kids howled gleefully +around him, and return with the end of a long cable, and pliers? How +long did it take him to disconnect all of the glazed copper ribbons, and +substitute the wires of the cable--attaching them to queer +terminal-posts? No--not long. + +The power was not as great as that which his own large atomic battery +would have supplied. But it proved sufficient. And the current was +direct--as it was supposed to be. The electrolysis apparatus bubbled +vigorously. Slowly the tentlike roof began to rise, under the beginnings +of a tiny gas-pressure. + +"That does it, Pops!" Bubs shrilled. + +"Yeah--maybe so," John Endlich agreed almost optimistically. He felt +really tender toward his kids, just then. They'd really helped him, for +once. + +Yes--almost he was hopeful. Until he glanced at the rapidly declining +sun. An all-night vigil. No. Probably worse. Oh Lord--how long could he +last like this? Even if he managed to keep Neely and Company at bay? +Night after night.... All that he had accomplished seemed useless. He +just had so much more that could be wrecked--pushed over with a harsh +laugh, as if it really was something funny. + +John Endlich's flesh crawled. And in his thinking, now, he went a little +against his own determinations. Probably because, in the present state +of his disgust, he needed a drink--bad. + +"Nuts!" he growled lugubriously. "If I'd only been a little more +sociable.... That was where the trouble started. I might have got broke, +but I would've made friends. They think I'm snooty." + +Rose's jaw hardened, as if she took his regrets as an accusation that +she had led him along the straight and narrow path, which--by an +exasperating shift in philosophical principle--now seemed the shortest +route to destruction. But he felt very sorry for her, too; and he didn't +believe that what he had just said was entirely the truth. + +So he added: "I don't mean it, Honey. I'm just griping." + +She softened. "You've got to eat, Johnny," she said. "You haven't eaten +all day. And tonight you've got to sleep. I'll keep watch. Maybe it'll +be all right...." + +Well, anyway it was nice to know that his wife was like that. +Yeah--gentle, and fairminded. After they had all eaten supper, he tried +hard to keep awake. Fear helped him to do so more than ever. Their tent +was now covered by the rising plastic roof--but beyond the clear +substance, he could still watch for starlight to be stopped by prowling +forms, out there at the jagged rim of Vesta. It was hell to feel your +skin puckering, and yet to have exhaustion pushing your eyelids down +inexorably.... + +Somewhere he lost the hold on himself. And he dreamed that Alf Neely and +he were fighting with their fists. And he was being beaten to a pulp. +But he was wishing desperately that he could win. Then they could have a +drink, and maybe be friends. But he knew hopelessly that things weren't +quite that simple, either. + + * * * * * + +He awoke to blink at blazing sunshine. Then his whole body became clammy +with perspiration, as he thought of his lapse from responsibility; +glancing over, he saw that Rose was sleeping as soundly as the kids. His +wide eyes searched for the disaster that he knew he'd find.... + +But the wide roof was all the way up, now--intact. It made a great, +squarish bubble, the skin of which was specially treated to stop the +hard and dangerous part of the ultra-violet rays of the sun, and also +the lethal portion of the cosmic rays. It even had an inter-skin layer +of gum that could seal the punctures that grain-of-sand-sized meteors +might make. But meteors, though plentiful in the asteroid belt, were +curiously innocuous. They all moved in much the same direction as the +large asteroids, and at much the same velocity--so their relative speed +had to be low. + +The walls of the small tent around Endlich sagged, where they had bulged +tautly before--showing that there was now a firm and equal pressure +beyond them. The electrolysis apparatus had been left active all night, +and the heating units. This was the result. + +John Endlich was at first almost unbelieving when he saw that nothing +had been wrecked during the night. For a moment he was elated. He woke +up his family by shouting: "Look! The bums stayed away! They didn't +come! Look! We've got five acres of ground, covered by air that we can +breathe!" + +His sense of triumph, however, was soon dampened. Yes--he'd been left +unmolested--for one night. But had that been done only to keep him at a +fruitless and sleepless watch? Probably. Another delicate form of +hazing. And it meant nothing for the night to come--or for those to +follow. So he was in the same harrowing position as before, pursued only +by a wild and defenseless drive to get things done. To find some slight +illusion of security by working to build a sham of normal, Earthly life. +To shut out the cold vacuum, and a little of the bluntness of the voidal +stars. To make certain reassuring sounds possible around him. + +"Got to patch up the pieces of the house, first, and bolt 'em together, +Rose," he said feverishly. "Kids--maybe you could help by setting out +some of the hydroponic troughs for planting. We gotta break plain +ground, too, as soon as it's thawed enough. We gotta...." His words +raced on with his flying thoughts. + + * * * * * + +It was a mad day of toil. The hours were pitifully short. They couldn't +be stretched to cover more than a fraction of all the work that Endlich +wanted to get done. But the low gravity reduced the problem of heavy +lifting to almost zero, at least. And he did get the house assembled--so +that Rose and the kids and he could sleep inside its sealed doors. +Sealed, that is, if Neely or somebody didn't use a blaster or an +explosive cap or bullet--in an orgy of perverted humor.... He still had +no answer for that. + +Rose and the children toiled almost as hard as he did. Rose even managed +to find a couple of dozen eggs, that--by being carefully packed to +withstand a spaceship's takeoff--had withstood the effects of Neely's +idea of fun. She set up an incubator, and put them inside, to be +hatched. + +But, of course, sunset came again--with the same pendent threat as +before. Nerve-twisting. Terrible. And a vigil was all but impossible. +John Endlich was out on his feet--far more than just dog-tired.... + +"That damned Neely," he groaned, almost too weary even to swallow his +food, in spite of the luxury of a real, pullman-style supper table. "He +doesn't lose sleep. He can pick his time to come here and raise hob!" + +Rose's glance was strange--almost guilty. "Tonight I think he might have +to stay home--too," she said. + +John Endlich blinked at her. + +"All right," she answered, rather defensively. "So to speak, Johnny, I +called the cops. Yesterday--with the small radio transmitter. When you +and Bubs and Evelyn were up in those old buildings. I reported Neely and +his companions." + +"Reported them?" + +"Sure. To Mr. Mahoney, the boss at the mining camp. I was glad to find +out that there is a little law and order around here. Mr. Mahoney was +nice. He said that he wouldn't be surprised if they were cooled in the +can for a few days, and then confined to the camp area. Matter of fact, +I radioed him again last night. It's been done." + +John Endlich's vast sigh of relief was slightly tainted by the idea that +to call on a policing power for protection was a little bit on the timid +side. + +"Oh," he grunted. "Thanks. I never thought of doing that." + +"Johnny." + +"Yeah?" + +"I kind of got the notion, though--from between the lines of what Mr. +Mahoney said--that there was heavy trouble brewing at the camp. About +conditions, and home-leaves, and increased profit-sharing. Maybe there's +danger of riots and what-not, Johnny. Anyhow, Mr. Mahoney said that we +should 'keep on exercising all reasonable caution.'" + +"Hmm-m--Mr. Mahoney is _very_ nice, ain't he?" Endlich growled. + +"You stop that, Johnny," Rose ordered. + +But her husband had already passed beyond thoughts of jealousy. He was +thinking of the time when Neely would have worked out his sentence, and +would be free to roam around again--no doubt with increased annoyance at +the Endlich clan for causing his restraint. If a riot or something +didn't spring him, beforehand. John Endlich itched to try to tear his +head off. But, of course, the same consequences as before still +applied.... + + * * * * * + +As it turned out, the Endlichs had a reprieve of two months and fourteen +days, almost to the hour and figured on a strictly Earth-time scale. + +For what it was worth, they accomplished a great deal. In their great +plastic greenhouse, supported like a colossal bubble by the humid, +artificially-warmed air inside it, long troughs were filled with pebbles +and hydroponic solution. And therein tomatoes were planted, and lettuce, +radishes, corn, onions, melons--just about everything in the vegetable +line. + +There remained plenty of ground left over from the five acres, so John +Endlich tinkered with that fifty-million-year-old tractor, figured out +its atomic-power-to-steam principle, and used it to help harrow up the +ancient soil of a smashed planet. He added commercial fertilizers and +nitrates to it--the nitrates were, of course, distinct from the gaseous +nitrogen that had been held, spongelike, by the subsoil, and had helped +supply the greenhouse with atmosphere. Then he harrowed the ground +again. The tractor worked fine, except that the feeble gravity made the +lugs of its wheels slip a lot. He repeated his planting, in the +old-fashioned manner. + +Under ideal conditions, the inside of the great bubble was soon a mass +of growing things. Rose had planted flowers--to be admired, and to help +out the hive of bees, which were essential to some of the other plants, +as well. Nor was the flora limited to the Earthly. Some seeds or spores +had survived, here, from the mother world of the asteroids. They came +out of their eons of suspended animation, to become root and tough, +spiky stalk, and to mix themselves sparsely with vegetation that had +immigrated from Earth, now that livable conditions had been restored +over this little piece of ground. But whether they were fruit or weed, +it was difficult to say. + +Sometimes John Endlich was misled. Sometimes, listening to familiar +sounds, and smelling familiar odors, toward the latter part of his +reprieve, he almost imagined that he'd accomplished his basic desires +here on Vesta--when he had always failed on Earth. + +There was the smell of warm soil, flowers, greenery. He heard irrigation +water trickling. The sweetcorn rustled in the wind of fans he'd set up +to circulate the air. Bees buzzed. Chickens, approaching adolescence, +peeped contentedly as they dusted themselves and stretched luxuriously +in the shadows of the cornfield. + +For John Endlich it was all like the echo of a somnolent summer of his +boyhood. There was peace in it: it was like a yearning fulfilled. An end +of wanderlust for him, here on Vesta. In contrast to the airless +desolation outside, the interior of this five-acre greenhouse was the +one most desirable place to be. So, except for the vaguest of stirrings +sometimes in his mind, there was not much incentive to seek fun +elsewhere. If he ever had time. + +And there was a lot of the legendary, too, in what his family and he had +accomplished. It was like returning a little of the blue sky and the +sounds of life to this land of ruins and roadways and the ghosts of dead +beauty. Maybe there'd be a lot more of all that, soon, when the rumored +major influx of homesteaders reached Vesta. + +"Yes, Johnny," Rose said once. "'Legendary' is a lot nicer word than +'ghostly'. And the ghosts are changing their name to legends." + +Rose had to teach the kids their regular lessons. That children would be +taught was part of the agreement you had to sign at the A. H. O. before +you could be shipped out with them. But the kids had time for whimsy, +too. In make-believe, they took their excursions far back to former +ages. They played that they were "Old People." + +Endlich, having repaired his atomic battery, didn't draw power anymore +from the unit that had supplied the ancient buildings. But the relics +remained. From a device like a phonograph, there was even a bell-like +voice that chanted when a lever was pressed. + +And it was the kids who found the first "tay-tay bug," a day +after its trills were heard from among the new foliage. +"Ta-a-a-ay-y-y--ta-a-a-a-ay-y-yy-y--" The sound was like that of a +little wheel, humming with the speed of rotation, and then slowing to a +scratchy stop. + +A one-legged hopper, with a thin but rigid gliding wing of horn. +Opalescent in its colors. It had evidently hatched from a tiny egg, +preserved by the cold for ages. + +Wise enough not to clutch it with his bare hands, Bubs came running with +it held in a leaf. + +It proved harmless. It was ugly and beautiful. Its great charm was that +it was a vocal echo from the far past. + + * * * * * + +Sure. Life got to be fairly okay, in spite of hard work. The Endlichs +had conquered the awful stillness with life-sounds. Growing plants kept +the air in their greenhouse fresh and breathable by photosynthesis. John +Endlich did a lot of grinning and whistling. His temper never flared +once. Deep down in him there was only a brooding certainty that the calm +couldn't last. For, from all reports, trouble seethed at the mining +camp. At any time there might be a blowup, a reign of terror that would +roll over all of Vesta. A thing to release pent-up forces in men who had +seen too many hard stars, and had heard too much stillness. They were +like the stuff inside a complaining volcano. + +The Endlichs had sought to time their various crops, so that they would +all be ready for market on as nearly as possible the same day. It was +intended as a trick of advertising--a dramatically sudden appearance of +much fresh produce. + +So, one morning, in a jet-equipped space-suit, Endlich arced out for the +mining camp. Inside the suit he carried samples from his garden. Six +tomatoes. Beauties. + +"Have luck with them, Johnny! But watch out!" Rose flung after him by +helmet phone. With a warm laugh. Just for a moment he felt maybe a +little silly. Tomatoes! But they were what he was banking on, and had +forced toward maturity, most. The way he figured, they were the kind of +fruit that the guys in the camp--gagged by a diet of canned and +dehydrated stuff, because they were too busy chasing mineral wealth to +keep a decent hydroponic garden going--would be hungriest for. + +Well--he was rather too right, in some ways, to be fortunate. Yeah--they +still call what happened the Tomato War. + +Poor Johnny Endlich. He was headed for the commissary dome to display +his wares. But vague urges sidetracked him, and he went into the +recreation dome of the camp, instead. + +And into the bar. + +The petty sin of two drinks hardly merits the punishing trouble which +came his way as, at least partially, a result. With his face-window +open, he stood at the bar with men whom he had never seen before. And he +began to have minor delusions of grandeur. He became a little too proud +of his accomplishments. His wariness slipped into abeyance. He had a +queer idea that, as a farmer with concrete evidence of his skills to +show, he would win respect that had been denied him. Dread of +consequences of some things that he might do, became blurred. His hot +temper began to smolder, under the spark of memory and the fury of +insult and malicious tricks, that, considering the safety of his loved +ones, he had had no way to fight back against. Frustration is a +dangerous force. Released a little, it excited him more. And the tense +mood of the camp--a thing in the very air of the domes--stirred him up +more. The camp--ready to explode into sudden, open barbarism for +days--was now at a point where nothing so dramatic as fresh tomatoes and +farmers in a bar was needed to set the fireworks off. + +John Endlich had his two drinks. Then, with calm and foolhardy +detachment, he set the six tomatoes out in a row before him on the +synthetic mahogany. + + * * * * * + +He didn't have to wait at all for results. Bloodshot eyes, some of them +belonging to men who had been as gentle as lambs in their ordinary lives +on Earth, turned swiftly alert. Bristly faces showed swift changes of +expression: surprise, interest, greed for possession--but most of all, +aggressive and Satanic humor. + +"_Jeez--tamadas!_" somebody growled, amazed. + +Under the circumstances, to be aware of opportunity was to act. Big +paws, some bare and calloused, some in the gloves of space suits, +reached out, grabbed. Teeth bit. Juice squirted, landing on hard metal +shaped for the interplanetary regions. + +So far, fine. John Endlich felt prouder of himself--he'd expected a +certain fierceness and lack of manners. But knowing all he did know, he +should have taken time to visualize the inevitable chain-reaction. + +"Thanks, pal.... You're a prince...." + +Sure--but the thanks were more of a mockery than a formality. + +"Hey! None for me? Whatsa idea?..." + +"Shuddup, Mic.... Who's dis guy?... Say, Friend--you wouldn't be that +pun'kin-head we been hearin' about, would you?... Well--my gracious--bet +you are! Dis'll be nice to watch!..." + +"Where's Alf Neely, Cranston? What we need is excitement." + +"Seen him out by the slot-machines. The bar is still out of bounds for +him. He can't come in here." + +"Says who? Boss Man Mahoney? For dis much sport Neely can go straight to +hell! And take Boss Man with him on a pitchfork.... Hey-y-y!... +Ne-e-e-e-l-y-y-y!..." + +The big man whose name was called lumbered to the window at the entrance +to the bar, and peered inside. During the last couple of months he'd +been in a perpetual grouch over his deprivation of liberty, which had +rankled him more as an affront to his dignity. + +When he saw the husband of the authoress of his woes--the little bum, +who, being unable to guard his own, had allowed his woman to holler +"Cop!"--Neely let out a yell of sheer glee. His huge shoulders hunched, +his pendulous nose wobbled, his squinty eyes gleamed and he charged into +the bar. + +John Endlich's first reaction was curiously similar to Neely's. He felt +a flash of savage triumph under the stimulus of the thought of immediate +battle with the cause of most of his troubles. Temper blazed in him. + +Belatedly, however, the awareness came into his mind that he had started +an emotional avalanche that went far beyond the weight and fury of one +man like Neely. Lord, wouldn't he ever learn? It was tough as hell to +crawl, but how could a man put his wife and kids in awful jeopardy at +the hands of a flock of guys whom space had turned into gorillas? + +Endlich tried for peace. It was to his credit that he did so quite +coolly. He turned toward his charging adversary and grinned. + +"Hi, Neely," he said. "Have a drink--on me." + +The big man stopped short, almost in unbelief that anyone could stoop so +low as to offer appeasement. Then he laughed uproariously. + +"Why, I'd be delighted, Mr. Pun'kins," he said in a poisonous-sweet +tone. "Let bygones be bygones. Hey, Charlie! Hear what Pun'kins says? +The drinks are all on him! And how is the Little Lady, Mrs. Pun'kins? +Lonesome, I bet. Glad to hear it. I'm gonna fix that!" + +With a sudden lunge Neely gripped Endlich's hand, and gave it a savage +if momentary twist that sent needles of pain shooting up the +homesteader's arm. It was a goading invitation to battle, which grim +knowledge of the sequel now compelled Endlich to pass up. + +"Don't call him Pun'kins, Neely!" somebody yelled. "It ain't polite to +mispronounce a name. It's Mr. Tomatoes. I just saw. Bet he's got a +million of 'em, out there on the farm!" + + * * * * * + +The whole crowd in the bar broke into coarse shouts and laughs and +comments. "... We ain't good neighbors--neglecting our social duties. +Let's pay 'em a visit.... Pun'kins! What else you got besides tamadas? +Let's go on a picnic!... Hell with the Boss Man!... Yah-h-h--We need +some diversion.... I'm not goin' on shift.... Come on, everybody! +There's gonna be a fight--a moider!... Hell with the Boss Man...." + +Like the flicker of flame flashing through dry gunpowder, you could feel +the excitement spread. Out of the bar. Out of the rec-dome. It would +soon ignite the whole tense camp. + +John Endlich's heart was in his mouth, as his mind pictured the part of +all this that would affect him and his. A bunch of men gone wild, +kicking over the traces, arcing around Vesta, sacking and destroying in +sheer exuberance, like brats on Hallowe'en. They would stop at nothing. +And Rose and the kids.... + +This was it. What he'd been so scared of all along. It was at least +partly his own fault. And there was no way to stop it now. + +"I love tomatoes, Mr. Pun'kins," Neely rumbled at Endlich's side, +reaching for the drink that had been set before him. "But first I'm +gonna smear you all over the camp.... Take my time--do a good job.... +Because y'didn't give me any tomatoes...." + +Whereat, John Endlich took the only slender advantage at hand for +him--surprise. With all the strength of his muscular body, backed up by +dread and pent-up fury, he sent a gloved fist crashing straight into +Neely's open face-window. Even the pang in his well-protected knuckles +was a satisfaction--for he knew that the damage to Neely's ugly features +must be many times greater. + +The blow, occurring under the conditions of Vesta's tiny gravity, had an +entirely un-Earthly effect. Neely, eyes glazing, floated gently up and +away. And Endlich, since he had at the last instant clutched Neely's +arm, was drawn along with the miner in a graceful, arcing flight through +the smoky air of the bar. Both armored bodies, lacking nothing in +inertia, tore through the tough plastic window, and they bounced lightly +on the pavement of the main section of the rec-dome. + +Neely was as limp as a wet rag, sleeping peacefully, blood all over his +crushed face. But that he was out of action signified no peace, when so +many of his buddies were nearby, and beginning to seethe, like a swarm +of hornets. + +So there was an element of despair in Endlich's quick actions as he +slammed Neely's face-window and his own shut, picked up his enemy, and +used his jets to propel him in the long leap to the airlock of the dome. +He had no real plan. He just had the ragged and all but hopeless thought +of using Neely as a hostage--as a weapon in the bitter and desperate +attempt to defend his wife and children from the mob that would be +following close behind him.... + +Tumbling end over end with his light but bulky burden, he sprawled at +the threshold of the airlock, where the guard, posted there, had stepped +hastily out of his way. Again, capricious luck, surprise, and swift +action were on his side. He pressed the control-button of the lock, and +squirmed through its double valves before the startled guard could stop +him. + +Then he slammed his jets wide, and aimed for the horizon. + + * * * * * + +It was a wild journey--for, to fly straight in a frictionless vacuum, +any missile must be very well balanced; and the inertia and the slight +but unwieldy weight of Neely's bulk disturbed such balance in his own +jet-equipped space suit. The journey was made, then, not in a smooth +arc, but in a series of erratic waverings. But what Endlich lacked in +precise direction, he made up in sheer reckless, dread-driven speed. + +From the very start of that wild flight, he heard voices in his helmet +phones: + +"Damn pun'kin-head greenhorn! Did you see how he hit Neely, Schmidt? +Yeah--by surprise.... Yeah--Kuzak. I saw. He hit without warning.... +Damn yella yokel.... Who's comin' along to get him?..." + +Sure--there was another side to it--other voices: + +"Shucks--Neely had it coming to him. I hope the farmer really murders +that big lunkhead.... You ain't kiddin', Muir. I was glad to see his +face splatter like a rotten tamata...." + +Okay--fine. It was good to know you had some sensible guys on your side. +But what good was it, when the camp as a whole was boiling over from its +internal troubles? There were more than enough roughnecks to do a mighty +messy job--fast. + +Panting with tension, Endlich swooped down before his greenhouse, and +dragged Neely inside through the airlock. For a fleeting instant the +sights and sounds and smells that impinged on his senses, as he opened +his face-window once more, brought him a regret. The rustle of corn, the +odor of greenery, the chicken voices--there was home in all of this. +Something pastoral and beautiful and orderly--gained with hard work. And +something brought back--restored--from the remote past. The buzzing of +the tay-tay bug was even a real echo from that smashed yet undoubtedly +once beautiful world of antiquity. + +But these were fragile concerns, beside the desperate question of the +immediate safety of Rose and the kids.... Already cries and shouts and +comments were coming faintly through his helmet phones again: + +"Get the yokel! Get the bum!... We'll fix his wagon good...." + +The pack was on the way--getting closer with every heartbeat. Never in +his life had Endlich experienced so harrowing a time as this; never, if +by some miracle he lived, could he expect another equal to it. + +To stand and fight, as he would have done if he were alone, would mean +simply that he would be cut down. To try the peacemaking of appeasement, +would have probably the same result--plus, for himself, the dishonor of +contempt. + +So, where was there to turn, with grim, unanswering blankness on every +side? + + * * * * * + +John Endlich felt mightily an old yearning--that of a fundamentally +peaceful man for a way to oppose and win against brutal, overpowering +odds without using either serious violence or the even more futile +course of supine submission. Here on Vesta, this had been the issue he +had faced all along. In many ages and many nations--and probably on many +planets throughout the universe--others had faced it before him. + +To his straining and tortured mind the trite and somewhat mocking +answers came: Psychology. Salesmanship. The selling of respect for one's +self. + +Ah, yes. These were fine words. Glib words. But the question, "How?" was +more bitter and derisive than ever. + +Still, he had to try something--to make at least a forlorn effort. And +now, from certain beliefs that he had, coupled with some vague +observations that he had made during the last hour, a tattered +suggestion of what form that effort might take, came to him. + +As for his personal defects that had given him trouble in the +past--well--he was lugubriously sure that he had learned a final lesson +about liquor. For him it always meant trouble. As for wanderlust, and +the gambling and hell-raising urge--he had been willing to stay put on +Vesta, named for the goddess of home, for weeks, now. And he was now +about to make his last great gamble. If he lost, he wouldn't be alive to +gamble again. If, by great good-fortune, he won--well he was certain +that all the charm of unnecessary chance-taking would, by the memory of +these awful moments, be forever poisoned in him. + +Now Rose and the youngsters came hurrying toward him. + +"Back so soon, Johnny?" Rose called. "What's this? What happened?" + +"Who's the guy, Pop?" Evelyn asked. "Oh--Baloney Nose.... What are you +doing with him?" + +But by then they all had guessed some of the tense mood, and its +probable meaning. + +"Neely's pals are coming, Honey," Endlich said quietly. "It's the +showdown. Hide the kids. And yourself. Quick. Under the house, maybe." + +Rose's pale eyes met his. They were comprehending, they were worried, +but they were cool. He could see that she didn't want to leave him. + +Evelyn looked as though she might begin to whimper; but her small jaw +hardened. + +Bubs' lower lip trembled. But he said valiantly: "I'll get the guns, +Pop, I'm stayin' with yuh." + +"No you're not, son," John Endlich answered. "Get going. Orders. Get the +guns to keep with you--to watch out for Mom and Sis." + +Rose took the kids away with her, without a word. Endlich wondered how +to describe what was maybe her last look at him. There were no fancy +words in his mind. Just Love. And deep concern. + +Alf Neely was showing signs of returning consciousness. Which was good. +Still dragging him, Endlich went and got a bushel basket. It was filled +to the brim with ripe, red tomatoes, but he could carry its tiny weight +on the palm of one hand, scarcely noticing that it was there. + +For an instant Endlich scanned the sky, through the clear plastic roof +of the great bubble. He saw at least a score of shapes in space armor, +arcing nearer--specks in human form, glowing with reflected sunlight, +like little hurtling moons among the stars. Neely's pals. In a moment +they would arrive. + + * * * * * + +Endlich took Neely and the loaded basket close to the transparent side +of the greenhouse, nearest the approaching roughnecks. There he removed +Neely's oxygen helmet, hoping that, maybe, this might deter his friends +a little from rupturing the plastic of the huge bubble and letting the +air out. It was a feeble safeguard, for, in all probability, in case of +such rupture, Neely would be rescued from death by smothering and cold +and the boiling of his blood, simply by having his helmet slammed back +on again. + +Next, Endlich dumped the contents of the basket on the ground, inverted +it, and sat Neely upon it. The big man had recovered consciousness +enough to be merely groggy by now. Endlich slapped his battered face +vigorously, to help clear his head--after having, of course, relieved +him of the blaster at his belt. + +Endlich left his own face-window open, so that the sounds of Neely's +voice could penetrate to the mike of his own helmet phone, thus to be +transmitted to the helmet phones of Neely's buddies. + +Endlich was anything but calm inside, with the wild horde, as +irresponsible in their present state of mind as a pack of idiot baboons, +bearing down on him. But he forced his tone to be conversational when he +spoke. + +"Hello, Neely," he said. "You mentioned you liked tomatoes. Maybe you +were kidding. Anyhow I brought you along home with me, so you could have +some. Here on the ground, right in front of you, is a whole bushel. The +regular asteroids price--considering the trouble it takes to grow 'em, +and the amount of dough a guy like you can make for himself out here, is +five bucks apiece. But for you, right now, they're all free. Here, have +a nice fresh, ripe one, Neely." + +The big man glared at his captor for a second, after he had looked +dazedly around. He would have leaped to his feet--except that the muzzle +of his own blaster was leveled at the center of his chest, at a range of +not over twenty inches. For a fleeting instant, Neely looked scared and +prudent. Then he saw his pals, landing like a flock of birds, just +beyond the transparent side of the greenhouse. And he heard their +shouts, coming loudly from Endlich's helmet-phones: + +"We come after you, Neely! We'll get the damn yokel off your neck.... +Come on, guys--let's turn the damn place upside down!..." + +Neely grew courageous--yes, maybe it did take a certain animal nerve to +do what he did. His battered and bloodied lip curled. + +"Whatdayuh think you're up to, Pun'kin-head!" he snarled slowly, his +tone dripping contempt for the insanely foolish. He laughed sourly, +"Haw-haw-haw." Then his face twisted into a confident and mocking leer. +To carry the mockery farther, a big paw reached out and grabbed the +proffered tomato from Endlich's hand. "Sure--thanks. Anything to +oblige!" He took a great bite from the fruit, clowning the action +with a forced expression of relish. "Ummm!" he grunted. In danger, he +was being the showman, playing for the approval of his pals. He was +proving his comic coolness--that even now he was master of the +situation, and was in no hurry to be rescued. "Come on, punk!" he +ordered Endlich. "Where is the next one, seeing you're so generous? Be +polite to your guest!" + +Endlich handed him a second tomato. But as he did so, it seemed all the +things he dreaded would happen were breathing down his back. For the +faces that he glimpsed beyond the plastic showed the twisted expressions +that betray the point where savage humor imperceptibly becomes +murderous. A dozen blasters were leveled at him. + +But the eyes of the men outside showed, too, the kind of interest that +any odd procedure can command. They stood still for a moment, watching, +commenting: + +"Hey--Neely! See if you can down the next one with one bite!... Don't +eat 'em all, Neely! Save some for us!..." + +Endlich was following no complete plan. He had only the feeling that +somewhere here there might be a dramatic touch that, by a long chance, +would yield him a toehold on the situation. Without a word, he gave +Neely a third tomato. Then a fourth and a fifth.... + +Neely kept gobbling and clowning. + +Yeah--but can this sort of horseplay go on until one man has consumed an +entire bushel of tomatoes? The question began to shine speculatively in +the faces of the onlookers. It began to appeal to their wolfish sense of +comedy. And it started to betray itself--in another manner--in Neely's +face. + + * * * * * + +After the fifteenth tomato, he burped and balked. "That's enough kiddin' +around, Pun'kin-head," he growled. "Get away with your damned garden +truck! I should be beatin' you to a grease-spot right this minute! +Why--I--" + +Then Neely tried to lunge for the blaster. As Endlich squeezed the +trigger, he turned the weapon aside a trifle, so that the beam of energy +flicked past Neely's ear and splashed garden soil that turned +incandescent, instantly. + +John Endlich might have died in that moment, cut down from behind. That +he wasn't probably meant that, from the position of complete underdog +among the spectators, his popularity had risen some. + +"Neely," he said with a grin, "how can you start beatin', when you ain't +done eatin'? Neely--here I am, trying to be friendly and hospitable, and +you aren't co-operating. A whole bushel of juicy tomatoes--symbols of +civilization way the hell out here in the asteroids--and you haven't +even made a dent in 'em yet! What's the matter, Neely? Lose your +appetite? Here! Eat!..." + +Endlich's tone was falsely persuasive. For there was a steely note of +command in it. And the blaster in Endlich's hand was pointed straight at +Neely's chest. + +Neely's eyes began to look frightened and sullen. He shifted +uncomfortably, and the bushel basket creaked under his weight. "You're +yella as any damn pun'kin!" he said loudly. "You don't fight fair!... +Guys--what's the matter with you? Get this nut with the blaster offa +me!..." + +"Hmm--yella," Endlich seemed to muse. "Maybe not as yella as you were +once--coming around here at night with a whole gang, not so long ago--" + +"Call _me_ yella?" Nelly hollered. "Why, you lousy damn yokel, if you +didn't have that blaster--" + +Endlich said grimly, "But I got it, friend!" He sent a stream of energy +from the blaster right past Neely's head, so close that a shock of the +other's hair smoked and curled into black wisps. "And watch your +language--my wife and kids can hear you--" + +Neely's thick shoulders hunched. He ducked nervously, rubbing his +head--and for the first time there was a hint of genuine alarm in his +voice. "All right," he growled, "all right! Take it easy--" + +Something deep within John Endlich relaxed--a cold tight knot seemed to +unwind--for, at that moment, he knew that Neely was beginning to lose. +The big man's evident discomfort and fear were the marks of weakness--to +his followers at least; and with them, he could never be a leader, +again. Moreover, he had allowed himself to be maneuvered into the +position of being the butt of a practical joke, that, by his own code, +must be followed up, to its nasty, if interesting, outcome. The +spectators began to resemble Romans at the circus, with Neely the +victim. And the victim's downfall was tragically swift. + +"Come on, Neely! You heard what Pun'kins said," somebody yelled. +"Jeez--a whole bushel. Let's see how many you can eat, Neely.... Damned +if this ain't gonna be rich! Don't let us down, Neely! Nobody's hurtin' +yuh. All you have to do is eat--all them nice tamadas.... Hey, Neely--if +that bushel ain't enough for you, I'll personally buy you another, at +the reg'lar price. Haw-haw-haw.... Lucky Neely! Look at him! Having a +swell banquet. Better than if he was home.... Haw-haw-haw.... Come on, +Pun'kins--make him eat!..." + +Yeah, under certain conditions human nature can be pretty fickle. +Wonderingly, John Endlich felt himself to be respected--the Top Man. The +guy who had shown courage and ingenuity, and was winning, by the harsh +code of men who had been roughened and soured by space--by life among +the asteroids. + + * * * * * + +For a little while then, he had to be hard. He thrust another tomato +toward Neely, at the same time directing a thin stream from the +blaster just past the big nose. Neely ate six more tomatoes with a will, +his eyes popping, sweat streaming down his forehead. + +Endlich's next blaster-stream barely missed Neely's booted toe. The +persuasive shot was worth fifty-five more dollars in garden fruit +consumed. The crowd gave with mock cheers and bravos, and demanded more +action. + +"That makes thirty-two.... Come on, Neely--that's just a good start. You +got a long, long ways to go.... Come on, Pun'kins--bet you can stuff +fifty into him...." + +To goad Neely on in this ludicrous and savage game, Endlich next just +scorched the metal at Neely's shoulder. It isn't to be said that Endlich +didn't enjoy his revenge--for all the anguish and real danger that Neely +had caused him. But as this fierce yet childish sport went on, and the +going turned really rough for the big asteroid miner, Endlich's anger +began to be mixed with self-disgust. He'd always be a hot-tempered guy; +he couldn't help that. But now, satisfaction, and a hopeful glimpse of +peace ahead, burned the fury out of him and touched him with shame. +Still, for a little more, he had to go on. Again and again, as before, +he used that blaster. But, as he did so, he talked, ramblingly, knowing +that the audience, too, would hear what he said. Maybe, in a way, it was +a lecture; but he couldn't help that: + +"Have another tomato, Neely. Sorry to do things like this--but it's your +own way. So why should you complain? Funny, ain't it? A man can get even +too many tomatoes. Civilized tomatoes. Part of something most guys +around here have been homesick for, for a long time.... Maybe that's +what has been most of the trouble out here in the asteroids. Not enough +civilization. On Earth we were used to certain standards--in spite of +being rough enough there, too. Here, the traces got kicked over. But on +this side of Vesta, an idea begins to soak in: This used to be nice +country--blue sky, trees growing. Some of that is coming back, Neely. +And order with it. Because, deep in our guts, that's what we all want. +And fresh vegetables'll help.... Have another tomato, Neely. Or should +we call it enough, guys?" + +[Illustration: _Endlich's voice was steely ... "Sorry to do things like +this--but it's your way!"_] + +"Neely, you ain't gonna quit now?" somebody guffawed. "You're doin' +almost good. Haw-haw!" + +Neely's face was purple. His eyes were bloodshot. His mouth hung partly +open. "Gawd--no--please!" he croaked. + +An embarrassed hush fell over the crowd. Back home on Earth, they had +all been more-or-less average men. Finally someone said, expressing the +intrusion among them of the better dignity of man: + +"Aw--let the poor dope go...." + +Then and there, John Endlich sold what was left of his first bushel of +tomatoes. One of his customers--the once loud-mouthed Schmidt--even +said, rather stiffly, "Pun'kins--you're all right." + +And these guys were the real roughnecks of the mining camp. + +Is it necessary to mention that, as they were leaving, Neely lost his +pride completely, soiling the inside of his helmet's face-window so that +he could scarcely see out of it? That, amid the raucous laughter of his +companions, which still sounded slightly self-conscious and pitying. +Thus Alf Neely sank at last to the level of helpless oblivion and +nonentity. + + * * * * * + +A week of Vestal days later, in the afternoon, Rose and the kids came to +John Endlich, who was toiling over his cucumbers. + +"Their name is Harper, Pop!" Bubs shouted. + +"And they've got three children!" Evelyn added. + +John Endlich, straightened, shaking a kink out of his tired back. "Who?" +he questioned. + +"The people who are going to be our new neighbors, Johnny," Rose said +happily. "We just picked up the news on the radio--from their ship, +which is approaching from space right now! I hope they're nice folks. +And, Johnny--there used to be country schools with no more than five +pupils...." + +"Sure," John Endlich said. + +Something felt warm around his heart. Leave it to a woman to think of a +school--the symbol of civilization, marching now across the void. John +Endlich thought of the trouble at the mining camp, which his first load +of fresh vegetables, picked up by a small space boat, had perhaps helped +to end. He thought of the relics in this strange land. Things that were +like legends of a lost pastoral beauty. Things that could come back. The +second family of homesteaders was almost here. Endlich was reconciled to +domesticity. He felt at home; he felt proud. + +Bees buzzed near him. A tay-tay bug from a perished era, hummed and +scraped out a mournful sound. + +"I wonder if the Harper kids'll call you Mr. Pun'kins, Pop," Bubs +remarked. "Like the miners still do." + +John Endlich laughed. But somehow he was prouder than ever. Maybe the +name would be a legend, too. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Asteroid of Fear, by Raymond Zinke Gallun + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASTEROID OF FEAR *** + +***** This file should be named 32780.txt or 32780.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/7/8/32780/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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