He marched them to the hatch and saw them inside it. Hyrst was watching
the sky, the black star-glittering sky with the glorious arch of the
Rings across it and one milky-bright curve of Saturn visible and growing
above the eastern horizon.

"They're coming," he said mentally to Shearing.

"Good." He started to close the hatch, and one of the young men pointed
suddenly to the sack clipped to Shearing's belt.

"You've been stealing something."

"Tell that to Bellaver."

"You bet I will. The fullest extent of the law, mister! The fullest
extent--"

The hatch closed. Shearing jammed the fastening mechanism so it could
not be turned from the inside. Then he went and stood beside Hyrst in
the glimmering plain, watching the ship drop down out of the Rings.

Hyrst said, "They'll tell Bellaver."

"Naturally."

"What will Bellaver do?"

"I'm not sure. Something drastic. He wants our starship so hard he'd
murder his own children to get it. You can see why. In itself it's
priceless, a hundred years ahead of its time, but that's not all. It's
what it stands for. To us it means freedom and safety. To Bellaver it
means--"

He gestured toward the sky, and Hyrst nodded, seeing in Shearing's mind
the image of a gigantic Bellaver, ten times bigger than God, gathering
the whole galaxy into his arms.

"I wish you luck," said Hyrst. He unhooked the sack of Titanite from his
belt and gave it to Shearing. "It'll take a little while to refine the
stuff and build the relays, even so. That may be time enough. Come back
for me if you can."

"Vernon?"

"Yes."

Shearing nodded. "I said I'd help you get him. I will."

"No. This is my job. I'll do it alone. You belong there, with them. With
Christina."

"Hyrst. Listen--"

"Don't tell me where the starship is. I might not hold out as well as
you."

"All right, but Hyrst--in case we can't get back--look for us away from
the Sun. Not toward it."

"I'll remember."

The ship landed. Shearing entered it, carrying the Titanite. And Hyrst
walked away, toward the closed and buried buildings of the refinery.

It had begun to snow again.

CHAPTER IX

It was cold and dark and infinitely sad. Hyrst wandered through the
rooms, feeling like a ghost, thinking like one. Everything had been
removed from the buildings. The living quarters were now mere cubicular
tombs for a lot of memories, absolutely bare of any human or familiar
touch. It felt very strange to Hyrst. He kep