Kirk had time to see tears running out of Samel's eyes. After that there was an agony of light and sound and motion, and then nothing.
The first thing he knew about was heat. More heat than he'd ever felt in his life, pouring over him. He opened his eyes.
Men were piled against the walls, beginning to struggle back to life. The Ship had changed position. Samel was crouched with his arms around his knees, motionless, staring at nothing. The yellow girl was helping her father out of a mound of Piruts. And it was hot.
There was light beating in through the broken wall. Kirk crawled over and peered out, his pupils contracted to little points.
The bottom of the gorge was split open, and it was burning. The father of the Captain's great-grandfather had remembered vaguely something about radioactivity and crystalline rocks that harnessed it and made heat. The father of his great-grandfather had had great hopes for the unique form of radiation and what it could be made to do. But all his time was taken hunting meat and heat-stones, and growing moss.
The heavy heart of the little world was burning up through the crack, and for the first time, Kirk was really warm.
Kirk put his hand on Samel's shoulder. "You got heat," he said. "That's better than power and gold, whatever they are."
Samel shivered and closed his eyes. His hands went with blind speed to Kirk's throat and closed, hard. His mouth was twisted, like a child crying with pain.
Kirk clawed at his thumbs. "Don't be a fool!" he croaked. "There's heat now. Heat for everybody. The kids won't cry any more. Samel, bring your people in out of the gullies!"