I heard Clair calling my name, "Jerry, Jerry!" and then 4270's jagged tumbling surface expanded up all around us and the planetoid didn't look so small any more. It looked huge, it could have been Jupiter. There came a grinding bump, and I thought I could hear my safety strap snapping. The black-light dials of the instrument panel zoomed up at me from someplace far beyond 4270, it seemed, and I met them head first with a hundred rocket tubes snorting inside my skull. * * * * * "Good morning," Clair said cheerfully. "Good _what_?" I answered, not so cheerful. "You slept for twelve hours, so now it's morning." "And durn you," Gramps chimed in. "You made one hell of a mess out of that instrument board. Why don't you be a mite careful...." "Hey!" I sat up suddenly, and the pinwheels began to go around in my head like at the Martian Fair. Only bigger. Brighter. "After that crash, did the chronometer radio our landing here to Vesta?" Clair nodded. "I thought of that. I radioed Vesta for confirmation, and it came. But right after that the radio went blooie, so now any music we hear will have to come from Gramps." "I can oblige," Gramps said, running for his guitar, but I shook my head. "Hold it! We've got a lot of work to do." "Yeah, sure," said Gramps. "Only what did you think we was doing while you slept peaceful like a baby? We wasn't playing or singing, I'll tell you that." Clair explained, "We were exploring, Jerry, after we made sure you were all right. We're less than a hundred yards from one of the domes here, and it looks darned good. Of course, I don't know yet if it can be pressurized or if there'll be any leaks, but I think we can answer yes to the first question and no to the second." "What about the second dome?" "Just about like this one, half a mile around the planet. Living quarters in both, plenty of abandoned equipment. You also can do open pit mining until you burrow clean through the planet. Rich lode, too, I'd say." "Good," I told her, and I stood up a bit shakily and took her in my arms. I kissed her soundly. "Jerry. Come on, stop. How can we get any work done this way, Jerry?... Ooo, Jerry...." A few moments later, we all donned our spacesuits. * * * * * Effortlessly, we carried great stacks of supplies across 4270's crumbled, broken surface. The light gravity seemed hardly to exist at all, and I think I could have lifted the Karden Cruiser bodily if I desired. We made exactly two trips from the ship to the dome's airlock, our grav-plates clomping up and down soundlessly under the space-boots--ordinarily it'd have taken us a whole day to unload the Karden.