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Updated: June 28, 2025
The impossibility of establishing such conditions produced some ludicrous results: The two Kuzaks diving with a vigor, as if from a rocket airlock, hitting the dirt with a thud, scrambling up, opening and spreading the great bundle, attaching the air hose. Little Lester hopping in to help fit wire rigging, most of it still imaginary.
The Kuzaks looked leaner and tougher, now, and there were plenty of present difficulties to worry them. Joe Kuzak hurried out to argue with the miners at the raw metal receiving bins and at the store bubbs. Art stayed to explain the present situation. "Three big loads of supplies were shipped through to us from the Moon," he growled. "We did fine, trading for metal.
"Yeah we will," Gimp said. "Couple of times I forgot J. John. But I lost my shirt on those loads that were lifted off you boneheads. The Kuzaks reimbursed me for half. Do you two want to cover the other half? Aw forget it! Who's got time to figure all this? That old coot doped himself out a nice catch-dollar scheme, making us promise.
He snicked his switch blade from a thigh pocket. For an instant it seemed that he would attack Reynolds. Then the knife flew, and penetrated the thin, taut wall, to its handle. There was a frightening hiss, until the sealing gum between the double layers, cut off the leak. The Kuzaks had Tiflin helpless and snarling, at once. "Get a patch, somebody fix up the hole," Joe, the mild one, growled.
I'd rather be Mitch, headed for heebie-jeebie Mars, or the Kuzaks, aiming for the crazy Asteroid Belt." That was Charlie, talking to him Frank Nelsen like an older brother. It made a sharp doubt in him, again. But then he grinned. "Maybe I am a slow starter," he said. "The Moon is near and humble, but some say it's good training even harsher than space.
Food, clothes anything we can sell, ourselves..." The Kuzaks must have at least a few thousand dollars, which they had probably managed to borrow when they had gone home to Pennsylvania to say goodbye. Out here, free of the grip of any large sphere, there was hardly a limit to the load which their ionics could eventually accelerate sufficiently to travel tremendous distances.
Space is still nice and empty ahead, toward the Kuzaks and Pallastown. That condition might not last... Gimp, are you honest-to-gosh set on going down to this dried-up, museum-world?" "Umhmm. See you soon, though," Gimp answered, grinning. "I'll leave my bubb and my load of supplies up here on Phobos. Be back for it probably in a week.
The big Kuzaks, usually easy and steady and not too comical, both had a certain kind of expression, now like amused and secretive gorillas. Frank wasn't sure whether he got the meaning of this or not, but right then he felt sort of sympathetic to Tiflin, too. "I didn't hear anything; I won't say or do anything," he laughed. Afterwards, under the pressure of events, he forgot the whole matter.
"It's the life of Reilly, Paul," Ramos was beaming back to Jarviston, Minnesota, not many hours after Frank Nelsen, Gimp Hines and he started out from the Moon, with their ultimate destination after the delivery of their loads of supplies to the Kuzaks tentatively marked in their minds as Pallastown on Pallas, the Golden Asteroid.
Magnesium rods for Storey or Ramos or the Kuzaks to shape in a lathe. Sheet aluminum to be spun and curved and polished. With Eileen Sands helping, Gimp Hines would do most of that. So the real work began. Nobody in the Bunch denied that it was a grind. For most, there were those tough courses at Tech. And a job, for money, for sustenance. And the time that must be spent working for Destiny.
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