get hurt, yet?" Bert demanded.

"Not yet. Want to see the bunch?"

"Sure," Bert answered.

* * * * *

He thrust Alice behind him as they approached the main lounge of the
ship where most of the colonists were assembled.

Trenton Lauren's voice burst on his ears. "There he is! Kraskow, I'll
see that you spend your life in prison! A Patrol ship is coming out
from Mars right now to get you! You may even hang! Out there in camp
are ten million dollars' worth of equipment--property of my
firm--which has been destroyed by your malicious action. And you've
made a whole world useless for colonization for centuries to come!
It's poisoned with radioactivity! Maybe we'll all die! Do you hear me,
Kraskow? Die!"

Bert Kraskow moved quietly forward, past faces that glowered at him.
Then he struck. There was a vicious thud. Lauren went down, drooling
blood, his eyes glazed. Bert did not lose a motion as he stepped
forward, and laid Lauren's two henchmen low with equal dispatch.

Minutes passed before the trio was awake again. Before Lauren could
spout more venom, Bert stopped him with a growl. "Get out of my
sight," he said. "Say another word and you'll get more of what you
just got."

They went, Lawler following to watch out for possible mischief.

"None of us are hurt, yet," Bert told those near him, "though some
things have gone wrong. Let's sit tight and see how matters turn out."

As he looked around him Bert felt that most of the colonists didn't
really care to listen to him. Maybe you couldn't blame them. They'd
all heard and seen too much. And, in a sense, Bert felt little
different than they did. There was fear in him, and tension. He had
released a colossus. Calculations and minor tests might call it a
genie of benevolence. But this remained still unproven.

Outside, the wind howled, making the ship quiver. The glow from the
Big Pill continued to paint the now murky sky. Bert and his wife
waited grimly and silently in the lounge with the others. Hours passed
without much change. Once, briefly, it was red-lit night. Then this
changed for a while to daylight that was blurred, but far stronger
than that to which a Saturnine moon was accustomed.

A little later Lawler came back to the lounge. "Trenton and his bums
got their spaceboat patched up," he announced. "I watched 'em do it.
They went out protected by spacesuits, of course. They did a botch
job, but I guess it'll hold. Now the