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How about a spaceman's reaction, when what is delayed may be something to keep him alive? They could get really annoyed, and kick this place apart." Art Kuzak blew air up past his pug nose, and continued. "Finance here we go again, Frank!" he chuckled. "Gimp Hines is helping us. After Mars, he came here without trouble.
"We'll have to think of food, sometime, too." "Food, yet ugh!" Art Kuzak grunted. Frank felt the fingers of spasm taking hold of his stomach. Most everybody was getting fall-sick, now, their insides not finding any up or down direction. But the guys wavered back to their bubbs.
Frank got to them just as it was over except for the cursing, the masculine tears of grief and rage, the promises of revenge. Luckily, none of the women had been captured. Joe Kuzak, full of new antibiotics and coagulants, was still up and around. "So we knocked off a few of them, Frank," he said ruefully in his office bubb. "Several were in Tovie armor. Runaways, or agents?
Charlie Reynolds growled. Frank Nelsen looked at the Kuzaks, floating near. "Well what could we do?" Joe Kuzak, the gentler twin, whispered. "He came back to Jarviston, to our rooming house, one night. We promised to help him a little. What are you going to do with a character nuts enough about space to armor up and stuff himself inside a blastoff drum? Of course he didn't come that way from home.
"That might be an answer," he said. They plopped where they were, and tried to rest until the orbiting cluster of rings emerged from Earth's shadow into blazing sunshine, again. Then Mitch and Frank returned to their own bubbs to check on the acceleration. It was soon plain that Joe Kuzak's bubb, towing Tiflin's drum, would lag. "Hell!" Art Kuzak snapped.
There were only the constant dangers, natural, human, and a combination. There was always a job a convoy to meet, a load of supplies to rush to a distant point, Jolly Lads to scare off. Reckless Ramos might be with Nelsen, or Joe Kuzak who usually operated separately, or a few guards, or several asteroid-hoppers, most of whom were tough and steady and good friends to know.
Then we will have money enough to buy the materials to make most of our equipment." Joe Kuzak, the gentler twin, answered him. "You're right about one thing, Les. We'll wind up building most of our own stuff with our own mitts...!" Some noisy conversation about who should try the Archer next, was interrupted when the antique customer's bell over the street door of the store, jangled.
It made another picture Art Kuzak, the old friend, gone somewhat too big for his oversized britches, perhaps... No doubt Art had had to put aside some grandiose visions, considering the turn that events had taken: Whole asteroids moved across the distance, and put into orbit around the Earth, so that their mineral wealth could be extracted more conveniently.
We'll be getting you a little wedding present. Later on, maybe we'll be able to send you something really good. Best of luck..." They let Jig Hollins and his Minnie go. They felt their contempt and pity, and their lifting, wild pride. Maybe Jig Hollins, wise guy and big mouth, boosted their own selves quite a bit, by contrast. "Poor sap," Joe Kuzak breathed.
But his instincts, now, all pointed along another course of action the only course that seemed to make any sense just then. He approached Art Kuzak at Post One. "About deployment," he began. "I've made up some sketches, showing what I'd like the factories to turn out. The ideas aren't new now they'll spring up all around like thoughts of food in a famine.
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