“Hard men to break,” mumbled the pirate, “but loneliness on an asteroid, with a space ship just out of reach, will break you. Too bad I won’t be here to see you fight over the third oxygen tank. Too bad I can’t hear you scream when you watch the ship, so near…. yet just too far. Yes, it is too bad I can’t wait to see you break.”
Vince, his fists clenched hard at his side, took a step toward the man.
“Listen, Robinson, you won’t be anywhere again. You are just a twisted cripple. You’ll never walk again. There isn’t a man in God’s creation who can mend that back of yours. Your spinal column is shattered…. and you are hanging on by a thread. You will live, knowing every minute that just one little twist, one wrong move may send you to eternity. I hope to God you live a hundred years and fear every moment you will die.
“You are a broken man…. a useless worn-out shell. These hands broke you…. broke you, do you hear…. and I am damn glad we were able to do it… you sneering, low-lived swine!”
“Take him out,” commanded Robinson.
Men sprang forward, and pinioned their arms behind them, forcing them to the door.
* * *
The Twin was rising over the rim of the tumbling world.
Two men, seated on a rocky ridge, arms thrown over one another’s shoulders, stared up at it. Against its dull lustre could be seen a speck of silver, etched in familiar outline, the Space Pup.
“We’ll see it just once more,” said Vince, “Our oxygen won’t last more than another revolution of the asteroids.”