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Updated: June 28, 2025
"The stuff is crawling up my legs," Nelsen growled. They knew that the Kuzaks, maybe Two-and-Two, Reynolds, Gimp, Storey, must be trying to call them. They kept listening in their helmet-phones. But this time Frank Nelsen knew that he'd gotten himself a real haystack of enormity in which to double for a lost needle.
Watching the rockets leave created a tingling sense of being left all alone, at an empty, breathless height from which you could never get down a height full of dazzling, unnatural sunshine, that in moments would become the dreadful darkness of Earth's shadow. "Hey our spare drum it'll drift off!" Ramos shouted. The Kuzaks dived to retrieve the cylinder. Others followed.
Can't get him right now North America is turned away... I couldn't pinpoint the Kuzaks in the Belt, but that's not unusual." "I'll finance a load of trade stuff for them," Gimp chuckled. "We ought to be able to move out in about five hours, eh?" "Should," Ramos agreed. "Weapons we might need 'em this trip and everything else is about ready."
He saw the Kuzaks dive for their initialled drums, big men not yet as apt in this new game as in football, but grimly determined to learn fast. The motion was all as silent as a shadow.
During the next several Earth-days of time, they accelerated with all the power that their bubb ionics could wring out of the sunshine, weakened now, with distance. They knew about where to find the Kuzaks. But contact was weeks off. When they were close enough, they could radio safely, checking the exact position of Art's and Joe's supply post.
"What do you care what I do, Mex?" he snarled. "And as for you two Hunky Kuzaks you oversized bulldozers how about weight limits for blastoff? Damn I don't care how big you are!" In mounting rage, he was about to lash out with his fists, even at the two watchful football men. But then he looked surprised. With a terrible effort, he bottled up even his furious words.
The mathematics of probabilities denied that luck could last forever. In this thought there was a sense of helplessness, and the ghost of a second Asteroid Belt. Frank Nelsen might have continued to make himself useful in Pallastown, or he might have rejoined the Kuzaks, who had moved their mobile posts back into a safer zone on the other side of Pallas.
But did you ever see a person slowly swell up and turn purple, with frothy bubbles forming under the skin, while his blood boils in the Big Vacuum? That was my buddy, Ed Kraft..." Lieutenant Harvey Diamond gasped. Huge, strangling hiccups came out of his throat. His eyes went wild. The Kuzaks had to hold him, while Mitch Storey ran to phone Doc Miller.
The Kuzaks' bubbs, towing massive loads, were accelerating slowest, with the ex-gridiron twins riding the rigging. But their rings would dwindle to star specks before long, too. The job scout's rocket, carrying Ramos and Gimp, began to flame for a landing at Serene.
If you could have made it, and missed getting shot by some trigger-happy guard where a frontier isn't even supposed to exist they probably would have held you for a while, and then let you go." "About the rest of the Bunch?" Frank Nelsen prompted. "The Kuzaks got to the Belt okay though they had to fight off some rough and humorous characters. Storey reached his Mars.
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