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Updated: June 19, 2025
Looking back to his first action against Rodan with a sharpened trowel that had pierced the wall of a stellene dome eventually leading up to Dutch's death, and very nearly precipitating his own demise and that of his other companions, he wondered if it wouldn't be regarded as criminal. Now he wasn't absolutely sure, himself, that it hadn't been criminal or Moonmad.
It had foreign lines, more than a bit sinister to the Bunch's first, startled view. It was a Tovie vehicle, representing the other side of the still for the most part passively opposed forces, on Earth, and far beyond. But through the darkened transparency of stellene, the armored figures again somewhat sinister only raised their hands in greeting.
Or would it be better to wait fourteen more Earth-days, till another lunar dawn? Hell no that would be chickenish procrastination. Rodan and Dutch were a good ten feet away from him he was out of their reach. With the harmless-looking trowel held like a dagger, he struck with all his might at the stellene outer wall of the dome, and then made a ripping motion.
Who could ever really police very much of it? One other advantage was that Jolly Lads were untidy. Around the distant bubbs floated a haze of jettisoned refuse. Boxes, wrappings, shreds of stellene. Nelsen had figured on that. Decelerating, he draped a sheet of synthetic cellulose that he'd brought along, loosely over his armored shape. Then he drifted unobtrusively close.
But there was a peculiar circumstance. The friction cover at one of its ends hung open. There was a trailing wisp of stellene part of the bubb packed inside and a thin, angry face with rather hysterical eyes, within the helmet of an Archer Five. "Shhh it ain't safe for me to come out yet," Glen Tiflin hissed threateningly. "Damn you all if you dare queer me...!" "Cripes another Jonah!"
Remembering his first trip, long ago, from the Moon to Mars, he knew how gentle the Big Vacuum could sometimes seem, with just a skin of stellene between it and himself. Home was a plain longing, too, in the hard, level eyes around him. Love. Well, wasn't that part of the first item he had tagged? Wanderlust. The adventurous distance drive part of any wild-blooded vagabond male.
Someone had to be in command in a situation which already looked black. "Frank I didn't suppose " Lester stammered. "Now what are we going to do?" "All that we can do try to get out of here!" Frank snapped back at him. With some shreds of stellene, he tied Dutch's arms behind his back, and lashed his feet together. Then he pulled Helen away from Rodan. "Hold her, Les," he ordered.
No planets left all the materials in them used up to build these bubbtowns. There'll be just big shining, magnificent rings made up of countless little floating stellene houses all around the sun. A zillion people, maybe more. Gardens, flowers, everything beautiful. Everybody free to move anywhere. Uh-uh I'm not making fun, Frankie. I'm joining in with all the relief and happiness of my heart.
By luck the Lesters lived in the small above-the-surface portion of Pallastown that had not been seriously damaged. Frank Nelsen also killed, during a trip to Post One of the KRNH Enterprises, to get more stellene and other materials to expand the temporary encampments for the survivors. He killed two fleeing men coldly and at a distance, because they did not answer his hail.
This time the walk was about three hundred yards, past three small stellene domes, the parabolic mirrors of a solar-power plant, a sun-energized tractor, and onward almost to the mountain wall, imbedded in the dust of the mare. There Frank noticed a circular, glassy area.
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