Magnesium and aluminum, of which
the major portions had certainly been made, were gone; they could never
have endured the rush through the atmosphere.

Ramos got down into the pit. After a minute, he gave a queer cry, and
climbed out again. His mitten smoked as he opened it, to show something.

"It must have been behind a heavy object," he said very seriously, not
like his usual self at all. "That broke the molecular impact with the
air--like a ceramic nose cone. Kept it from burning up completely."

The thing was a lady's silver compact, from which a large piece had been
fused away. A bobbypin had gotten welded to it.

Old Paul Hendricks cursed. Poor Two-and-Two moved off sickly, with a
palm clamped over his mouth.

Eileen Sands gasped, and seemed about to yell. But she got back most of
her poise. Women have nursed the messily ill and dying, and have tended
ghastly wounds during ages of time. So they know the messier side of
biology as well as men.

Ramos gave the pathetic relic to a cop who was trying to take charge.

"Somebody must have goofed bad on the _Far Side_, for it to miss orbit
like that," Ramos grated. "Or was something wrong, beforehand? Their TV
transmitter went out--we were watching, too, at the garage... You can
see the aurora--the Northern Lights... Those damn solar storms might
have loused up instruments...! But who'll ever know, now...?"

The Kuzaks, who had been to an Athletic Association meeting at Tech, had
grabbed a ride out with the stream of cars from town. Both looked grim.
"No use hanging around here, Charlie," Art urged. "Let's get back to the
shop."

Before he drove off, Jig Hollins tried to chuckle mockingly at
everybody, especially Charlie Reynolds. "Time to think about keeping a
nice safe job in the Jarviston powerhouse--eh, Reynolds? And staying
near granddad?"

"We're supposed not to be children, Hollins," Charlie shot back at him
from his car window. "We're supposed to have known long ago that these
things happen, and to have adjusted ourselves to our chances."

"Ninnies that get scared first thing, when the facts begin to show!"
Tiflin snarled. "Cripes--let's don't be like soft bugs under boards!"

"You're right, Tif," Frank Nelsen agreed, feeling that for once the
ne'er-do-well--the nuisance--might be doing them all some good. Frank
could feel how Tiflin shamed some of the quiver out of his own insides,
and helped bring back pride and strength.

The _Far Side_ disast