s.

"Serene...

Found a queen...

And her name is Eileen..."

Nelsen's reaction wasn't even a thought, at first; it was only an eerie
tingle in all his flesh. Then, realizing what his suspicion was, he
listened further, with all his nerves taut. But no explanation of the
song's origin was given... He even tried futilely to radio the pleasure
bubb, full of Earth tourists. In minutes it had sunk behind the abrupt
horizon, leaving him with his unanswered wonder.

Girls, he thought, in the midst of his utter solitude. All girls, to
love and have ... Eileen? Cripes, could it be little old Eileen Sands,
up on her ballet-dancing toes, sometimes, at Hendricks', and humming
herself a tune? Eileen who had deserted the Bunch, meaning to approach
space in a feminine way? Holy cow, had even _she_ gotten _that_ far, so
fast?

Suddenly the possibility became a symbol of what the others of the
Bunch must be accomplishing, while here he was, trapped, stuck futilely,
inside a few bleak square miles on the far side of Earth's own
satellite!

So here was another force of Frank Nelsen's desperation.

He made up his mind--which perhaps just then was a bit mad.

With outward calm he returned to camp, slept, worked, slept and worked
again. He decided that there was no help to be had from Lester, who was
still no man of action. Better to work alone, anyway.

Fortunately, on the Moon, it was easy to call deadly forces to one's
aid. Something as simple as possible, the trick should be. Of course all
he wanted to do was to get the upper hand on Rodan and Dutch, take over
the camp, get the missing parts of his radio and Archer, borrow the
solar tractor, and get out of here. To Serenitatis Base--Serene.

His only preparation was to sharpen the edges of a diamond-shaped trowel
used at the diggings, with a piece of pumice. Then he waited.

Opportunity came near sundown, after a shift. Rodan, Dutch, and he had
come into the supply and shop dome, through its airlock. Lester and
Helen--these two introverts had somehow discovered each other, and were
getting along well together--were visible through the transparent wall,
lingering at the diggings.

Nelsen saw Rodan and Dutch unlatch the collars of their helmets,
preparatory for removing them, as they usually did if they stayed here a
while, to pack new artifacts or stow tools. Nelsen made as if to unlatch
his collar, too. But if he did it, the gasket would be unsealed, and his
helmet woul