The Asteroid of Gold
Clifford D. Simak








…The last story to appear from Simak in those early days was “The Asteroid of Gold”. Here you have a chance to compare a story written by a twenty-seven year old Simak, with his latest science fantasy novels, written in his late sixties. In essence Simak has turned full circle in his writings, but has never lost that basic appeal.






The Asteroid of Gold

by Clifford D. Simak



from Wonder Stories, November 1932

Towards the end of the 1930’s many readers wondered if Simak would ever appear again. He had contributed only five stories to the professional magazines, and rumour had it he had written a masterpiece for one of those fan publications… what was it?… Marvel Tales or something.

Indeed Clifford Simak was comfortably making his way up the promotion ladder in newspaper circles. The lack of reliable markets had caused him to give up writing science fiction, and it was only when John Campbell became editor of Astounding Stories that he was coaxed back to the field. In hindsight we can all sigh with relief that Simak made that decision otherwise the field would be without a great deal of wealth in the form of Simakian gems.

The last story to appear from Simak in those early days was “The Asteroid of Gold”. Here you have a chance to compare a story written by a twenty-seven year old Simak, with his latest science fantasy novels, written in his late sixties. In essence Simak has turned full circle in his writings, but has never lost that basic appeal. His first professional appearance, “World of the Red Sun”, in the December 1931 Wonder Stories tells of adventurers who travel in time to the future and discover a gigantic brain which controls the remnants of mankind. The story of how they defeat the brain is adeptly related, and the final weapon was not one of the atomic weapons so glibly used in 1930’s sf, but simply psychology.

One of his more recent stories, “Construction Shack” in the January 1973 Galaxy reveals how explorers of Pluto discover plans for the building of the solar system, and how each planet was given up in turn as failure. In between these stories Simak has turned out well over one hundred beautiful science fiction stories, such as the “City” series, where old Earth is left to be civilized by intelligent dogs under the careful eye of Jenkins the robot. “City” went on to win the International Fantasy Award, and Simak later scooped the double when “The Big Front Yard” received the Hugo Award in 1959, and a second Hugo for “Way Station”.

Simak is noted for the generally optimistic tone of his work, wherein his characters are more saints than sinners, and good generally wins out against evil.

* * *


“After this charge well knock off for eats and sleep,” Vince Drake suggested to his brother.

Vernon Drake nodded.

“I’ve got the jitters from wearing the suit for such a long stretch,” he said. “I’m afraid we’re overdoing the work a bit, Vince.”

“It’s a tough racket,” his brother agreed, “but the sooner we get this load to earth, the quicker we can buy Space Pup II.”

The two moved over the rocky surface of the asteroid in apparently effortless leaps, heading toward the Space Pup, which squatted like a silver monster against the drab monotony of the little world. Here the gravity was slight, so slight, in fact, that the brothers wore ropes about their waists while at work, with the other ends fastened to the Space Pup. The ship was securely anchored to the planetoid with magnetic plates. Otherwise some slight disturbance might have sent it off into space.

A man, putting his full strength into a leap, could easily have torn himself from the face of the rocky little world and hurled himself beyond its attraction. Thus the ropes attached to the man and the ship. It would have been no joke to inadvertently hop off the tiny slab of rock and be unable to return. They had at first experimented with weighted shoes and then with magnetic plates attached to the soles, but both of these devices has proved cumbersome and awkward.

Overhead the stars moved steadily in the velvety blackness of absolute space. The asteroid, nothing more than a slab of rock some five miles in length, half as wide and approximately four miles thick, was tumbling rapidly end over end through space. Here one was afforded the astounding spectacle of observing the constellations march in orderly procession against the curtain of blackness which enveloped the airless little world.

Descending over the sunward horizon could be seen the Twin, only a matter of some fifteen miles distant. The two tiny slabs of rock, revolving about each other, made up a part of the asteroid belt, all that remained of a mythical planet between Mars and Jupiter (which must have disrupted into the thousands of tiny fragments many millions of years before).

Here and there in the blackness loomed dark splotches, some shining faintly with reflected light from the distant sun — other members of the belt. At times wandering chunks of rock hurtled across space, some passing close to the asteroid upon which the two brothers were located. At times showers of tiny meteors, travelling at bullet-like speeds, bombarded the little island of space. There was danger in plenty, but the stakes were high and the brothers braved the dangers.

Two slabs of rock revolving about one another, true twins of space…. but the Twin was only rock, while the one upon which Vince and Vernon Drake were conducting their mining operations was shot through and through with yellow veins of gold. The ore was rich, unbelievably rich, so rich that it practically crumbled under one’s fingers. The price of one cargo alone would run into six figures. A treasure house in space! A treasure hoard of the void!

The brothers reached the ship and Vince knelt to connect the wires to the detonator. The nitro was planted in shallow holes, with care taken that the charge was not excessive. With the slight gravity, too large a charge would simply blast a portion of the ore-bearing slab into space, possibly to be lost forever. This had happened several times before they had learned just how much nitro to use.

“Hang on!” cautioned Vince.

Vernon grasped a rung set in the side of the Space Pup. Vince slid his arm through a similar rung and with his free hand shot down the plunger of the detonator.

There was no noise, only a slight flush where the charges were planted. The planetoid trembled violently beneath their feet. The Space Pup quivered and tugged at its magnetic moorings as the rock beneath it shook to the charge of the explosive. About a half mile away, where the charge had been set, a shower of small rock fragments sailed upward, but they did not drop. Out and out they sailed until they were lost to view, each becoming a separate unit in the mass of debris which formed the asteroid belt.

“Now into the Pup” exclaimed Vince, “for some eats and a good long sleep. We’ve done a lot this shift.”

“The thing I look forward to is getting out of this suit.” declared Vernon.

He turned toward the door and as he did so he cast a glance upward. He stopped short in astonishment

“Vince, look!” he cried.

Looming out of the void, blotting out a portion of the sky, a huge, black ship hung almost directly above them. There had been nothing to apprise them of its coming. It had simply slipped out of the blackness of space and suddenly was there, hanging above the tiny world. They had seen no rocket blasts.

Their earphones rang as an imperative tone cut in upon their receiving sets.

“Stay where you are. Don’t move. We are going to land and we have guns on you.”

The ship was speaking to them.

“Who the hell are you?” demanded Vernon.

“Max Robinson, of the Space Ship Star Wanderer, speaking.”

Max Robinson, of the Star Wanderer! The faces of the two brothers paled under their helmets. The most notorious raider of the space lines! Plunderer extraordinary. Cut-throat bandit of the void. How had he learned of the wondrous treasure on the little asteroid?

* * *


There was nothing to say. The two young miners at first did not realize the true significance of this visit from Robinson. It all came so suddenly that it was impossible to think clearly, impossible to grasp the true possibilities of the situation.

“You damned robber!” said Vernon bitterly.

He felt his brother’s hand upon his arm, squeezing with a vicelike grip.

“Men don’t talk like that to Max Robinson,” the voice came coolly, unflustered, “and get away with it”.

Warned by the pressure on his arm, Vernon did not reply.

The two stood silently, watching the great craft settle slowly to a berth only a short distance from where the Space Pup lay. Through the lighted ports they could see men in the ship, while here and there heads were outlined against the circles of light, men off duty looking out upon the tiny world where they had landed.

Smoothly a gangplank came down and the outer door of an air chamber swiftly unscrewed and swung free.

“Come into my ship,” said the voice of Robinson,” and come peaceably.”

There was a horrible threat in the words. The two knew there never would be a moment, except perhaps when they were actually in the air chamber, that they would not be under the guns of the vessel.

In long hops they moved forward and set foot on the gangplank of the pirate ship. There they halted to unfasten the ropes about their waists.

“What are you stopping for?” growled Robinson.

“To unfasten our safety cables,” Vince explained. “The gravity is so low here we anchored ourselves to our ship.”

Robinson chuckled.

“Bright idea,” he applauded. “I’ll never forget the time one of my men jumped off one of these lousy little worlds. We scouted around for hours before we picked him up. He was dead.”

They could hear the raider chuckle again, deep in his throat

“Scared to death,” he explained.

The brothers did not answer; neither of them at the moment could find anything particularly funny about a man being frightened to a point where death claimed him. With their ropes free they stepped up the gangplank into the air chamber. Noiselessly the door swung against the port, spinning into the threads. There was a sharp hissing, continuing for several minutes, then the inner door slipped its threads and swung open.

Vernon again felt the warning pressure of his brother’s hand as they stepped out of the air chamber into the interior of the ship. Several members of the crew sprang toward them, ran swift hands over their inflated suits.

“That’s all right,” said Vernon, “we have no guns.”

The men dropped back and the brothers unfastened their helmets and swung them back on their rear hinges. They closed the air tank valves and the suits went limp, hanging loosely about them.

Their eyes, roving over the ship, saw that it was extremely modern, equipped with many of the new inventions for comfort and safe space travel.

Six members of the crew stood in the room with them. They were a hardfaced lot; scum drafted from all the infamous space ports of the worlds; perhaps many of them criminals hiding from justice.

“The captain wants to see you immediately,” said one of them.

“Mind if we take off our suits?” asked Vernon. “They aren’t comfortable after you’ve worn them for a while.”

“Don’t see that would hurt any,” grunted the man. “Hurry about it, though.”

Quickly they unfastened the suits and stepped from them, leaving them on the floor.

“The captain ain’t one to be kept waiting,” the man explained.

The two followed the man along a central corridor to the forward end of the ship. Before a door their guide stopped and knocked.

“Come in,” commanded the voice they had heard over their receiving sets.

The guide swung open the door and motioned the others to step forward. As they did so, the door closed behind them and they stood alone, face to face with Max Robinson, cruelest, and most hunted space raider of the system.

They saw a man attired in a colorful uniform of powder blue, adorned with gold buttons, and with a red circle as a breast insignia. His forehead was high and his chin square, but not over-emphasized. A squat nose hulked above the slightest suggestion of a mustache and the lips were full and well formed. It was such a face as might have belonged to an ordinary, everyday business man of the Earth…..until one looked at the eyes, and there the brothers saw cold calculation and insane cruelty.

He sat behind a large desk of beautiful carved stone, which was at once recognized as Martian art. Perhaps the desk had been part of the loot taken from some flaming homestead upon which Robinson and his crew of vandals descended to obtain a cargo of food. Upon the walls of the room hung paintings, specimens of the best art of the world. Held in wall brackets were other works of art, vases and statues. A heavy rug carpeted the floor.

“You like my office?” queried Robinson. “It is appointed more tastefully than I would have imagined,” replied Vince and the implication of his words was not lost upon the man behind the desk.

“When you become more thoroughly acquainted with me,” he purred, “you will receive many surprises.”

“Doubtless,” said Vince.

Robinson’s eyes narrowed. He seemed on the point of speaking sharply, then appeared to change his mind. “Doing some mining?” he asked.

“No exploring,” lied Vince.

“Find anything?”

“A little lead.”

Robinson clucked with mock sympathy.

“Too bad,” he said, “too bad. Funny you would stay on one asteroid so long when all you found was a little lead. We saw you here 20 days ago when we passed by. When we picked you up again this time we thought you might have found something, so we dropped down.”

Vince said nothing. There was nothing to say.

“Been doing a lot of blasting, too,” observed the pirate. “In one place. That’s funny. Seems to me you would blast a lot of test pits if you were just exploring.”

“We were hopeful of finding something really worthwhile,” explained Vernon. “Had just decided to quit. If we find nothing from this last shot we won’t do any more exploring here. We’ve wasted too much time here as it is.”

“You’re right,” said Robinson and his voice was silky. “You won’t do any more exploring…..here or on any other asteroid.”

“What do you mean?” asked Vernon.

Robinson did not seem to hear the question. He leaned forward over the desk and beat a clenched fist on its polished top.

“What did you find?” he bellowed.

“Lead,” declared Vince.

The pirate picked up a small hammer and tapped a gong which squatted on his desk. The door opened and the man who had escorted the brothers to his captain stepped into the room.

“Make these gentlemen comfortable,” commanded Robinson, “I am going out to have a look at their lead mine.”

With an evil grin the man beckoned to the two, led the way out of the door and down the corridor. Far in the rear of the ship he halted and with a key opened a heavy door.

“In you go,” he said.

The brothers stepped inside and the door creaked to, behind them. A moment later the key grated in the lock.

The room was bare of furniture except for four steel beds bolted to the floor. They were in the prison room of the Star Wanderer.

Vernon sat down heavily on one of the beds.

“What do we do now?” he asked.

“We have to wait and watch our chance,” said Vince. “Maybe a chance will never come, but if it does, we’ll make the most of it. We have to try not to antagonize Robinson, but we must stand upon our dignity. We must not let him believe for a moment we are afraid of him or afraid of what he might do to us. We have told our story and we are going to stick to it. We explored and we found lead. No matter if he takes tons of gold out of the place, it will always be lead to us.”

Vernon grinned. The course suggested by his brother struck a chord of grim humour in him.

Vince seated himself on the bed and threw an arm over Vernon’s shoulder. “It’s a tough break, kid,” he said. “We are in the hands of the system’s worst outlaw. We…..”

He stopped, groping for words.

“Yes, I know,” said Vernon and the two of them sat, staring straight at the grey wall in front of them. Vince broke the silence. “No use kidding ourselves,” he said.

“None at all,” agreed Vernon and his voice matched his brother’s in tenseness.

“But we must always remember, kid,” went on Vince, “that this isn’t the first time a Drake has been in a tight spot. Some of them have gotten out of it and some of them haven’t. But they always were Drakes. Not a sniveling coward among them. Not a single whimper for mercy. They’ve never forgotten their savoir faire. We’ve got something that Robinson never had and never can have and maybe we can beat him yet. He’ll get small satisfaction out of this deal, no matter what happens.”

They sat in silence again.

“Let’s get some sleep,” suggested Vernon, and Vince nodded.

“Good idea,” he said and almost crunched the bones in his brother’s shoulder with the grip of an understanding hand.

Dog-tired after hours in space suits, with the labor of wresting the golden fortune from the isolated little asteroid, they slept long and when they awoke a table bearing food stood in the room.

Vernon went to the single port-hole opening out of the prison room. Staring through it he could see feverish activity outside. Several cranes had been rigged up on the surface of the little world and the entire crew of the Star Wanderer seemed to be engaged in looting the planetoid of its golden hoard. It was a weird picture. Huge floodlights hastily erected lit up the surface and made the place a plain of light and shadow. Space armor glistened and shone and sudden flashes spurted against the utter blackness of space as charges of explosives were fired. As each charge exploded the Star Wanderer vibrated from end to end. Men with heavy loads of ore toiled up the gangplank and into the airlock.

“What are they doing?” asked Vince sleepily from his bed.

“Come and see,” invited Vernon.

Together the two brothers gazed out upon the scene.

“Our mine,” said Vernon. Vince nodded bitterly.

The two turned from the window and gave their attention to the food on the table.

“Poison,” suggested Vernon, but Vince shook his head.

“Not Robinson’s way of doing things,” he declared. “Not bloody enough. No entertainment just sending two poor souls into eternity with a dose of strychnine. Robinson demands dramatics.”

“I hope you’re right,” said Vernon.

“What does it matter if I am or not?” demanded Vince. “We have to eat, don’t we? I’d rather eat poison every time in preference to starvation.”

The food was good and the brothers, not having eaten for twenty-four hours, did justice to it.

* * *


An hour later the same man who had conducted them to their cell appeared and took away the food.

“The captain says to tell you that he’s found gold,” he stated.

“Tell the captain that he’s found lead,” corrected Vince.

Hours passed. Ten times the Twin circled its mate in space. Still the work of mining the gold went on without a stop. Apparently Robinson had divided his crew into shifts and was working every minute. Greats pits were being gouged in the surface of the planetoid. It was plain that the pirate would not halt mining operations until either the ore pinched out or until his ship was loaded to capacity.

Food was served the prisoners at regular intervals and they slept when they felt sleepy. Part of the time they spent at the port watching the activity outside. They requested a deck of cards from their keeper and whiled away hours playing for immense imaginary stakes. Neither of them mentioned what lay in store for them. Neither was there talk of escape. They knew there was no escape.

Escape from the ship without space suits meant death of the most horrible kind on the airless surface of the asteroid. Escape even with space suits would have to be made in the face of the pirates swarming outside. Even if they were able to safely reach the Space Pup, they knew that the Star Wanderer carried weapons which could blast the little ship out of existence.

The Twin had circled its companion eighteen times when they were summoned out of their prison to face Robinson again. As they walked up the corridor with their keeper stalking in their wake, Vernon’s hand reached out and grasped his brother’s for just an instant in a bonecrushing clasp. They were walking the road to death. Not for a moment was there a doubt in their mind of that. It was not after the manner of Max Robinson to allow men he had plundered to live. It was not well for him to have too many men in the system hating him with that fierce hate which can only come through personal injury.

But they walked with their shoulders square, with their chins up and in their swinging stride there was no hint of condemned men on their way to the scaffold.

Reaching the door of Robinson’s office they did not wait for the guard to announce them. Vince beat a tattoo upon the metal.

“Come in, “ said the pirate, and once more they stood before the beautifully carved desk behind which sat the most feared, most hated man of the solar system.

Robinson regarded them with narrowed eyes, but his throat gurgled with cruel laughter.

“This asteroid of yours,” he said, “is very precious. It is rich beyond dreams. It is full of gold.”

“It is full of lead and, at present, cluttered up with damned robbers,” said Vince softly.

Robinson seemed not to hear him, but Vernon, watching closely, knew that his brother’s words had flicked him on the raw.

“It is regrettable,” purred the pirate, “that having discovered such a vast deposit of gold, it should be lost to you. Under the circumstances your fortitude has been truly amazing. You have earned something better than the fate which I generally mete out to my…. my…..”

“Victims,” suggested Vernon.

“That’s it,” beamed Robinson. “How did you think of the word?”

“I am way ahead of you all of the time,” Vernon told him.

Robinson, however, was determined not to lose face by losing his temper. He had deliberately set out to taunt these men in an attempt to break them. He forced himself to maintain his light tone.

He wagged his head.

“I have taken all I want,” he said. “More, perhaps, than I was rightly entitled to, after all it was your mine. You discovered it. Still there is plenty more. I don’t plan on returning, for there are many other such treasures in the system and the treasure itself means nothing to Max Robinson, rather the satisfaction of acquiring it.”

“I hope,” said Vince, “that you have derived considerable satisfaction from our explorations.”

Robinson bowed, mocking them.

“Exactly,” he said, “So I have decided not to kill you. I will leave you here with your mine. I have done enough wrong in my life. I am sorely in need of a few acts of mercy to counterbalance my sins.”

Vernon stirred at Vince’s side, but his brother reached out with a hand and gripped him. He steadied…. waiting for the joker in Robinson’s proposal.

“It is regrettable, however,” stated the pirate, “that I am short on oxygen tanks. All I shall be able to give you will be three tanks. One for each of you and one to be divided between you as you see fit.”

He stared solemnly at them.

“I am sorry to say, too, that I shall be obliged to take your ship out of your reach temporarily. If I left it where you could use it immediately, I fear that you might hasten to Mars and report my presence in this part of the solar system and it does not suit my plans to have my presence known for some time.”

“Canny,” declared Vince, “always the old fox.”

Robinson grinned.

“I am going to take your ship and anchor it just a few miles away, on the Twin, where you can see it. One of my crew, a reputable instructor of mathematics in an Earth college before he committed a certain indiscretion and sought my protection, informs me that in the matter of a few thousands years the revolutions of the two asteroids will slow down and their orbits will close in, until they finally come together, joining one another. When that occurs you can reach your ship and return to Earth or Mars without harming me in the least.”

“If the oxygen holds out,” suggested Vince.

“I never thought of that,” declared the pirate. “Maybe the oxygen wouldn’t last that long.”

“I’m afraid it wouldn’t,” said Vince.

“At least,” pointed out the other, “you will have the satisfaction of always having your ship in sight when the Twin is in view.” As he spoke Vince leaped. His body, striking against the desk, shoved it backward and toppled the pirate out of his chair. The chair thudded against the carpeted floor. A vase tottered and fell from a shallow wall bracket, smashing to a thousand bits as it struck against a piece of statuary standing beneath it.

Vince, his body bruised by the force of its impact against the heavy desk, scrambled to his feet.

Vernon was vaulting the desk, and disappeared behind it. With a single effort, Vince followed. Vernon and Robinson were locked on the floor in a tangle of flying arms and legs.

Vince flung himself into the struggle. His hands found and closed with a vice-like grip upon a massive throat.

There was a hammering of feet in the corridor.

“Quick,” screamed Vince, “The trick Kan taught us.”

Like a flash Vernon was on his feet. With a thud he placed his left knee into the small of Robinson’s back, bearing down with his entire weight. Up and back Vince forced the upper part of the body and then, with his fingers still wrapped like tentacles of steel about the pirate’s throat, put his full strength into a final thrust. There was a sharp snap as the vertebrae slipped out of place.

Vince released his grip and the body slumped to the floor.

The door burst inward. The brothers vaulted the desk as one man and were in the center of the dozen members of the crew before a gun could be used. With fists working like driving pistons the two went to the attack. Back and forth the fight surged across the room, with the pirates afraid to use their guns at such close quarters.

Vince accounted for his first opponent with a clean smash to the temple, but fumbled the second blow when his fist slid off the granite chin of the second man. Someone hit him hard over the heart and he retaliated with a blow that lifted the man off his feet and sent him staggering. A monstrous fist lashed at his head and almost floored him. Groggy as he was, he failed to duck another fist that smashed him against the wall. A face appeared in front of him and he flailed at it. A red smear appeared on the face as it slumped out of his line of vision. Then there were other fists hitting him… hitting hard.

He caught sight of Vernon in the center of the melee in the middle of the room; saw a man wilt as his brother drove his fist into his throat; saw his brother topple as someone struck him from behind. Then a fist he could not duck, hard as he tried…..a moment of dull pain, of flashing lights within his head and then…..nothing.

He awoke with the glare of electric bulbs in his eyes and a throbbing pain in his head. Weakly he gained a sitting position and glanced about him.

Members of the crew thronged the room, all of them clutching weapons. A short distance away Vernon was struggling to his feet.

Walking unsteadily, his brother advanced toward him. Vince forced his aching body to rise and faced Vernon.

“It was a good fight,” said Vernon, “while it lasted.”

He grinned, wryly. Vince noted that one of his front teeth was missing and that bloodstains were about his mouth.

“Our last good fight, kid,” said Vince.

The pirates rimmed them in a tight circle, watching them warily.

“Why don’t they polish us off, kid?” asked Vince.

“Orders from Robinson,” Vernon explained, “he is still alive.”

“What’s that!”

“Robinson is still alive.”

“The hell you say,” exclaimed Vince. “He’s the first man I ever knew who could outlive old Kan’s trick.”

“Too tough to kill. Born to hang,” said Vernon.

There was a stir at the edge of the circle which hemmed them in. It parted to let two men pass through. The two cradled a broken man in their arms.

Robinson glared at the brothers out of haggard eyes. His legs dangled grotesquely, seeming to reach despairingly toward the floor. His face was a twisted mask of pain and anger.

“You thought to kill me,” he boomed.

“I am sorry,” said Vince.

“Sorry!”

“Sorry I didn’t succeed.”

Robinson was muttering to himself.

“Delirious,” said Vernon and Vince nodded.

But they were mistaken.

“Hard men to break,” mumbled the pirate, “but loneliness on an asteroid, with a space ship just out of reach, will break you. Too bad I won’t be here to see you fight over the third oxygen tank. Too bad I can’t hear you scream when you watch the ship, so near…. yet just too far. Yes, it is too bad I can’t wait to see you break.”

Vince, his fists clenched hard at his side, took a step toward the man.

“Listen, Robinson, you won’t be anywhere again. You are just a twisted cripple. You’ll never walk again. There isn’t a man in God’s creation who can mend that back of yours. Your spinal column is shattered…. and you are hanging on by a thread. You will live, knowing every minute that just one little twist, one wrong move may send you to eternity. I hope to God you live a hundred years and fear every moment you will die.

“You are a broken man…. a useless worn-out shell. These hands broke you…. broke you, do you hear…. and I am damn glad we were able to do it… you sneering, low-lived swine!”

“Take him out,” commanded Robinson.

Men sprang forward, and pinioned their arms behind them, forcing them to the door.

* * *


The Twin was rising over the rim of the tumbling world.

Two men, seated on a rocky ridge, arms thrown over one another’s shoulders, stared up at it. Against its dull lustre could be seen a speck of silver, etched in familiar outline, the Space Pup.

“We’ll see it just once more,” said Vince, “Our oxygen won’t last more than another revolution of the asteroids.”

“What are we going to do with this?” Vernon touched the extra tank with the toe of his boot.

“You know what we are going to do with it.”

Vernon nodded.

“We’ll furnish a great newspaper story some day,” he said, “if we ever are found. Two dead men in space suits with a tank full of oxygen at their feet. Mystery — why didn’t one of them use the oxygen?”

“I have something I want to say, “said Vince. “Hard to word it. Would think a fellow could say things to his brother… but you know how it is.”

“Sure. Better not say it. I feel the same way.”

“You’ve been regular,” declared Vince.

“Not so bad yourself,” replied Vernon.

“It’s not hard to die with you, kid. I always pictured us going out differently. Maybe with guns flaming in some out of way station or with the old Space Pup busted wide open somewhere out in space…. but not like this. Doesn’t matter after all…..”

“Why should it?” demanded Vernon.

They sat silently, watching the Twin climb rapidly toward the zenith. Dust spurted in the mine pits as a few tiny meteors plunged down on the asteroid.

“If one of those hit us, it would be over in a minute,” observed Vernon.

“Look!” screamed Vince. “The Twin is falling!”

Vernon jerked his head upward.

The Twin was falling! Falling with a rotary motion around the axis of its length. Even as he watched it seemed to draw closer!

“A meteor,” exclaimed Vince, his voice tense, “a large meteor. Struck it and threw it out of its orbit! That’s the only thing that can account for it.”

“It is bringing the Space Pup back to us!” said his brother.

“It will crush the Space Pup” declared Vince. “Likely smash us, too. It will land smack on top of us.”

“It won’t hurt the Space Pup” argued Vernon. See, it is rotating. The top will be turned toward us when it strikes. The ship will be on top. It will be safe!”

“By God, you’re right,” yelled Vince. “Here kid, we’re getting out of here! Grab a handful of rocks and jump as you’ve never jumped before! At an angle to carry you out over the edge.”

He stooped and scooped up handfuls of rubble.

“Get going!” he screamed at his brother.

Vernon was running. Running with long leaps toward the nearer edge of the planetoid, gaining speed at every leap. Then he shot upward, as if he had been catapulted from a gigantic sling shot. Up and up he went, out and out, until he was a speck against the blackness.

Bouncing along over the surface, Vince put all of his strength into a tremendous leap as he struck the rock beneath with both feet planted firmly. He seemed to be rushing out, away from the asteroid, at an express train speed. Rapidly the bloated space suit encasing his brother seemed to leap to meet him. Then he was floating free in space, looking back at the Twin rushing downward upon the slab of rock he had so recently quit. He could see that the rotary motion of the Twin, probably imparted to it when a meteor had struck with force enough, not only to knock it out of its orbit, but to also reverse its directional spin, had brought the Space Pup to the upper side. The two planetoids were so close now that the ship could not possibly be crushed between them. They were due to crash any moment now and the Space Pup was on top!

He clawed with his hands at empty space, swinging his body around until his back was toward the asteroid. Then with all his strength he heaved a rock straight away from him. With a rush his body moved backwards, slowed down, glided. Another thrown rock and another leap… another… another. Over his shoulder he could see out of the tail of his eye that he was proceeding in the right direction.

A short distance away he could see Vernon also heaving rocks.

Another rock…. but this time his body did not slow to a glide. It kept on moving. He realized that he was falling, that he was influenced by gravity!

Sudden fear assailed him. Had he miscalculated? Had he been captured again by the first asteroid before the Twin had struck? Or had the Twin already struck?

Desperately he attempted to twist about He succeeded and glimpsed jagged rock surface beneath him. The matter of landing without ripping his suit or cracking his helmets ports took all of his attention during the next few seconds.

He struck on his two feet, tumbled and rolled, his arms shielding his helmet. The ground seemed to be pitching and rocking. He could feel it quivering and moving beneath him. Like an earthquake. He gained his feet, but lost his balance again.

As he fell he caught sight of a familiar silvery shape looming large before him, swaying and rocking as the surface of the asteroid swayed and rocked. He was on the Twin, which must have already struck the first asteroid…. and the Space Pup was only a few rods away!

He spread his body flat on the surface to keep from being tossed about as the two slabs of rock, suddenly thrown together with terrific force, danced a jig in space.

Where was Vernon? Had he landed? Or was he miles behind? As soon as the Twin struck, the first asteroid also must have been knocked out of its orbit. Both must now be rushing through space. If Vernon had not been close enough to be captured by the gravity of the two, he would now be somewhere out there in the’ darkness alone, and perhaps helpless.

A wave of illness swept over Vince at that thought. Would he be able to find him in time? Or would he only pick up a corpse, a man floating in space, dead from lack of air?

He raised his head to stare at the Space Pup and a cry of gladness welled up into his throat A man was crawling toward him over the weaving surface. Vernon! His brother…. safe!

Words beat in upon him.

“Vince, are you all right? Vince! Vince, you’re all right, aren’t you?”

“Sure, I’m all right, kid.”

The two crawled together and locked arms.

“We took an awful chance, kid,” said Vince.

“It was the only thing to do,” replied Vernon. “We couldn’t stay and be smashed in the collision.”

Arm in arm, they crawled over the buckling, gyrating world toward the Space Pup.