Breadon stood his ground. "Let go of me, Malcolm. I'm not going to fight you again. Of course I mean Crystal. It's perfectly obvious that you and she--Oh, hell, man! Don't be a hypocrite! After all, when people live as intimately as we do, in one little cave...." * * * * * Greg felt dark anger welling up within him like a gall-tinctured flood. Rage not that Breadon should say this thing, but that there should be cause for his thinking it. He choked, thickly, "Damn you, Breadon--there's not a thing wrong between Crystal and me. I love her, yes. And Crystal loves me. We've only been waiting till this big job was finished--" "Then if I were you," retorted Breadon wearily, "I wouldn't wait any longer. Or is it another case of the king being incapable of doing wrong? Anyhow, I think you understand what I mean now. Two months ago a marriage between you and Crystal Andrews would have been ridiculous. Today--" He shrugged again. Greg glared at him wrathfully, impotently, for a long moment. Then he spun on his heel, led the way down the hill to the cave. Sparks scurried along behind him anxiously. "Now, look, Greg--don't do nothing you might regret--" "Shut up! I'll handle this!" At the cave he called all the settlers before him. They came from their tasks, surprised, wondering. He wasted no time. He broached the subject boldly. "Because we ten are marooned here on a desert satellite," he said savagely, "without a clergyman, there is no reason we must abandon all the rights and privileges of civilized society. Human emotions have a habit of enduring. I think it is no secret that Crystal Andrews and I have fallen in love. I intend, therefore, to marry her as soon as it can be arranged. "Crystal--" He turned to the girl. "Do I speak for you as well as for myself?" The girl nodded and stepped forward into the circle of his arm. "You know you do, Greg." J. Foster Andrews looked pleased. He said, "That's fine, son. But who's going to do the marrying?" "You are. As owner of the _Carefree_, you were also its commander. I think the space code would permit your acting in capacity of justice." Greg's anger melted. "I'm not being very formal about this, sir. Perhaps I should ask for your permission." "You have it, my boy! And now--" Archly. "When will the--hrrumph!--happy event take place?" Greg looked at Crystal questioningly. "Next week?" she said, "I'll have to have a little time, Greg." "That's it, then," said Greg. "Next week. When the dark period comes." * * * * * The little group broke up, then. One by one they murmured words of congratulation and approval to their leader and his bride-to-be and drifted away. Finally Crystal went back into the cave, and Greg was left alone with 'Tina, who alone of all the group, had so far said nothing. He went to her. "You haven't told me you're happy, 'Tina." She turned slowly. "Shall I say so, Greg?"