ece of a planet, an enemy could sneak
up on you, almost without stealth.

Against that maddening silence, however, Bubs presently had a helpful
and unprompted suggestion: "Hey, Pop!" he whispered hoarsely. "Put the
side of your helmet against the tent-floor, and listen!"

John Endlich obeyed his kid. In a second cold sweat began to break out
on his body, as intermittent thudding noises reached his ear. In the
absence of an atmosphere, sounds could still be transmitted through the
solid substance of the asteroid.

It took Endlich a moment to realize that the noises came, not from
nearby, but from far away, on the other side of Vesta. The thudding was
vibrated straight through many miles of solid rock.

"It's nothing, Bubs," he growled. "Nothing but the blasting in the
mines."

Bubs said "Oh," as if disappointed. Not long thereafter he was asleep,
leaving his harrassed sire to endure the vigil alone. Endlich dared not
doze off, to rest a little, even for a moment. He could only wait. If an
evil visitation came--as he had been all but sure it must--that would be
bad, indeed. If it didn't come--well--that still meant a sleepless
night, and the postponement of the inevitable. He couldn't win.

Thus the hours slipped away, until the luminous dial of the clock in the
tent--it had been synchronized to Vestal time--told him that dawn was
near. That was when, through the ground, he heard the faint scraping. A
rustle. It might have been made by heavy space-boots. It came, and then
it stopped. It came again, and stopped once more. As if skulking forms
paused to find their way.

Out where the ancient and ghostly buildings were, he saw a star wink out
briefly, as if a shape blocked the path of its light. Then it burned
peacefully again. John Endlich's hackles rose. His fists tightened on
both his rifle and pistol.

He fixed his gaze on the great box, looming blackly, the box that
contained the means of survival for his family and himself, as if he
foresaw the future, a moment away. For suddenly, huge as it was, the box
rocked, and began to move off, as if it had sprouted legs and come
alive.

* * * * *

John Endlich scrambled to action. He slammed and sealed the face-windows
of the helmets of the members of his family, to protect them from
suffocation. He did the same for himself, and then unzipped the
tent-flap. He darted out with the outrushing air.

This was a moment with murder poised