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They watched Tiflin spin and focus the antenna. "Kuzak... Kuzak... Kuzak... Kuzak..." he said into his phone. "Missing boys alive and coming to you. Mex and old Guess Which... Kicking and independent, but very hungry, I think... Put on the coffee pot, you storekeepers... Kuzak... Kuzak... Kuzak... Talk up, Frank and Miguel. Your voices will relay through my phone..."
But Ramos wasn't unkind. He checked himself in time. "No sweat, Tif," he muttered. "Hey, Gimp are you going to sit in that Archie all night?" Joe Kuzak, the easy-going twin, boomed genially. "How about the rest of us?" "Yeah how about that, Gimp?" Dave Lester put in, trying to sound as brash and bold as the others, instead of just bookish.
The others leapt to help Nelsen, Ramos, Gimp and Lester strip and pack their gear. Ramos' and Gimp's drums were loaded into the job scout's rocket. Nelsen's and Lester's went into Rodan's. Gloved hands clasped gloved hands all around. The Bunch, the Planet Strappers, were breaking up. "So long, you characters see you around," said Art Kuzak.
"Only you were right the first time. These letters shouldn't be delivered until your next trip around, tomorrow morning." They both handed the envelopes back to Roy Harder. The voices of their Bunch-mates jangled in a conflicting chorus. "Ah yuh damfools!" Two-and-Two bleated. "Good for them!" Art Kuzak said, perhaps mockingly.
Joe Kuzak ran a steel wire from a pivot bolt at the hub of his ring, to tow Tiflin and his drum. Then everybody crawled into their respective bubbs, most of them needing the centrifugal gravity to help straighten out their fall-sickness. "My neck is swelling, too," Frank Nelsen heard Charlie Reynolds say. "Lymphatic glands sometimes bog down in the absence of weight.
"Tiflin me and my brother helped you. Now we're gonna sit on you just to make sure your funny business doesn't kill us all. Try anything just once, and we'll feed you all that vacuum without an Archer. If you're a good boy, maybe you'll live to get dumped on the Moon as we pass by." "Nuts let's give this sick rat to the Space Force right now." Art Kuzak hissed. "Here comes their patrol bubb."
The guards and most of the personnel were experienced and tough. They drove the Jolly Lads back and deflected some chunks of aimed and accelerated asteroid chips, with new defense rockets. Joe Kuzak, at Post Seven, wasn't so lucky, though Frank had tipped him off. Half of the post was scattered and pirated.
The thumbtacked pictures of the systems of far, cold Jupiter and Saturn Saturn still unapproached, except by small, instrumented rockets would be the things to appeal to him. The Kuzak twins stood alertly, as if an extra special homecoming football game was in prospect. But they weren't given to real doubts, either.
And they don't always stop trouble, but they try... Anyhow, what side do you think I was on, after Fessler kicked me around for months...? Let Igor go. He's got law and order in his soul. I kind of like having him around... But keep your mouths buttoned, will you? I'm talking to you, Mr. Baines, and you, Mr. Kuzak, as well as to you, Nelsen.
"Has anybody suddenly decided to back out?" Charlie chuckled. "It's tiresome for me always to be asking that." He looked around, meeting carefully easy grins and grim expressions. "Nope I guess we're all shaggy folk, bent on high and wild living, so far. So you know the only answer we can have." "Umhmm, Charlie," Art Kuzak, the tough, business-like twin, gruffed. "We can get the Archers, now.
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