V
Irene and I walked in the warm night. The crews were whooping it up in the lighted barracks. Somebody was playing a harmonica. The stars were brilliant, and there were a thousand things to think of. How we'd all struggled. How Nick Mavrocordatus, had dreamed and worked and died. How once the asteroids had been a planet, with almost human inhabitants, dreaming, planning, struggling, too. Their rock carvings were everywhere.
"It's the beginning, Chet," Irene whispered. "Asteroid 487 is the first. But there'll be others—other small, beautiful, living planets. There's a lot of work to be done. And when it's all finished that will be almost unfortunate—too tame."
I knew what she meant. She was pioneer stuff, just as all of us were. The greatness of life was in its battles. On and on, to vaster and vaster heights. That was what had driven us into the interplanetary void in the first place.
I kissed her. "Don't worry, Honey," I said. "There's no end to it. No point of final stagnation. It goes on and on. There'll always be a frontier—something bigger to reach and conquer...."
And we looked up in awe toward the infinite stars.