. I don't want to lose you--now."

Dawning realization filled Bill with horror. "Margo--Margo, for God's
sake, what kind of a game have you been playing with me!"

Margo's shoulders sagged, and she began to sob out her story. "Bill,
please, please believe me. I love you. That was not my part of the
agreement with Asteroid Mining--to fall in love with you. Yes. I was
hired to separate you and your brother, break up your company."

Before Bill could snarl an answer to that, a hotel service clerk came
with a portable phone.

"Call for you, sir."

With his eyes fixed steadily on Margo, he spoke into the transmitter,
"Captain Staker."

Christy's strained and tearful voice came over the wire. "Bill, oh,
Bill, we're getting terrible news here at the field. Tom's ship is
losing oxygen!"

"Yes, I know," he answered. "I just got the Ultra on it. I'll be right
out, Christy."

As he replaced the phone he looked at Margo with a grim, loathing
expression. "A female trick as old as the universe and I had to fall
for it. You and your innocent questions about our Quadrant trajectory!
What a sucker I was!" He drew back his hand to slap her but decided
against it. She was crying when he left.

On the way to the field the familiar but forgotten black tide of fear
rose up like a spectre once more to scatter his gathering ideas for
helping Tom. Resigning himself to its power and pulling over to the
roadside, he sat still, gripping the wheel. Yes, he told himself
tensely, here I sit while Tom and the others drift in space needing
help. The realization of their need slowly gave him a greater
objective clarity than he had ever had before. He began to see himself
now for what he was--a cringing weakling stripped naked of all
manliness at the first show of evil. Though he perhaps had been worse
than the average, this was the trouble with his whole security minded
generation. They never dreamed great dreams like George Staker and his
era which wrested atomic power from the treasure house of nature. No,
this generation carefully followed safe, charted paths in the world of
ideas. It had given up its freedom to a world of government controlled
monopolies. And Tom, taking up the torch left by their creatively
imaginative ancestor, was trying to recapture a small facet of that
golden age.

* * * * *

With the dawning in him of Mid-Twentieth Century mind, Bill felt a
thrilling sense of freedom as the black