in every tattered fragment of it.
John Endlich knew. Murder was engrained in his own taut-drawn nerves,
that raged to destroy the trespassers whose pranks had passed the level
of practical humor, and become, by the tampering with vital necessities,
an attack on life itself. But there was a more immediate menace in these
space-twisted roughnecks.... Strike back at them, even in self-defense,
and have it proven!

He had not the faintest doubt who they were--even though he could not
see their faces in the blackness. Maybe he should lay low--let them have
their way.... But how could he--even apart from his raging temper, and
his honor as a man--when they were making off with his family's and his
own means of survival?

He had to throw Rose and the kids into the balance--risking them to the
danger that he knew lay beyond his own possible ignoble demise. He did
just that when he raised his pistol, struggling against the awful
impulse of the rage in him--lifted it high enough so that the explosive
bullets that spewed from it would be sure to pass over the heads of the
dark silhouettes that were moving about.

"Damn you, Neely!" Endlich yelled into his helmet mike, his finger
tightening on the trigger. "Drop that stuff!"

At that moment the sun's rim appeared at the landscape's jagged edge,
and on this side of airless Vesta complete night was transformed to
complete day, as abruptly as if a switch had been turned.

Alf Neely and John Endlich blinked at each other. Maybe Neely was
embarrassed a little by his sudden exposure; but if he was, it didn't
show. Probably the bully in him was scared; but this he covered in a
common manner--with a studiedly easy swagger, and a bravado that was not
good sense, but bordered on childish recklessness. Yet he had a trump
card--by the aggressive glint in his eyes, and his unpleasant grin,
Endlich knew that Neely knew that he was afraid for his wife, and
wouldn't start anything unless driven and goaded sheerly wild. Even now,
they were seven to his one.

"Why, good morning, Neighbor Pun'kin-head!" Neely crooned, his voice a
burlesque of sweetness. "Glad to oblige!"

He hurled the great box down. As he did so, something glinted in his
gloved paw. He flicked it expertly into the open side of the wooden case
which contained so many things that were vital to the Endlichs--

It was only a tiny nuclear priming-cap, and the blast was feeble. Even
so, the box burst apart. Splintered crates, se