"And you've been working at these mines all these years?" he cried. "Don't you know that certain metals like platinum, or palladium, act as a catalyst? The gases are absorbed on their surface, unite. And when hydrogen and oxygen unite...." He stooped, picked up one of the gray ingots. "Here's what ignited that mixture! I knew I had only to stall until enough hydrogen had entered the room to create an explosion." He shrugged. "I suppose the play's ended. Now that John's gone, the metal will only be divided two ways. Half to Clare, as her father's only heir, and half to me. I'll turn my share over to you, Stephen, as recompense for any unpleasantness I may have caused you in the past. Your late uncle's rocket-sled is still outside. I'll have Taon load half the palladium aboard it and you can go to Verlis, set up as a wealthy young gentleman of leisure." He smiled, sardonically.
I stared at him. From that smiling mask his eyes were fastened upon me.
"And you, sir?" I asked.
"Me?" he seemed surprised. "I'll be taking Clare and her little fortune back to Terra. After that" ... he shrugged again. "It'd be of no interest to you, I'm sure. Taon, take half of these ingots and put them aboard the rocket-sled outside."
"No!" I heard myself saying in a queer choked voice. "No! I ... I'm coming with you and Clare. If you'll have me ... Dad."
For the third time that night my father's bitter mocking mask fell from him ... and this time for good.
"Steve!" he murmured, putting an arm about my shoulders. "Steve!"
Taon, busy picking up the gray ingots, paused, his gaze shifting from Clare to Dad to myself.
"Good!" he grinned. "Dam' good! All one family soon now! Very dam' good!"