,,momentum ,by ,charles ,dye 7author of ,time ,killer7 ,just because an event has to happen1 some people think that1 of course1 it will happen4 ,it ain't necessarily so6 ,ballard had but a few hours to solve the problem1 and he knew that the answer was there1 before his eyes--if he could see it in time6 ,transcriber's ,note3 ,this etext was produced from ,future combined with ,science ,fiction ,stories ,july #aiea4 ,extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the ,u4,s4 copyright on this publication was renewed4 ,asteroid #abjg came spinning into the auxiliary ship's viewplate like a glittering black mirage4 ,the eight-mile chunk of rock was the last link in a chain of nine asteroid navigational-markers still needing blinker equipment installation4 ,minutes later1 the ,minnow lay neatly berthed in the deepest hollow of the asteroid1 the shining wires of its drill grapples anchoring it firmly to the jagged rock4 ,the airlock opened and two men in spacesuits stepped out4 ,they climbed to the top of the nearest hill dragging a platform of tools and equipment2 the ragged1 close horizons of the asteroid made a hostile background for them as they worked in silence4 ,ballard leaned far over the rough edge of a circular pit1 directing the heat radiation beam that melted the foundation plastic smoothly over the walls4 ,he couldn't spare the time to turn his head and watch ,walton1 but he could follow the other's progress in welding the framework of the blinker tower by the irregular breathing and clanks and buzzes coming through his earphones4 ,he listened to ,walton's motions with an automatic alertness developed over six long weeks of tension--ever since the finding of the rotenite nuggets on the second of the light-marker asteroids4 ,the rotenite represented enough wealth to make them among the richest men in the solar system4 ,or one of them--the richest4 ,that was what ,ballard was afraid of4 ,suddenly the clanks and rustles stopped1 and ,walton's voice muttered3 ,must have left the number three flux2 better go back for it4 ,what8 ,ballard caught himself asking rhetorically1 apprehension flooding through him4 ,i said ,i left something4 ,have to go back and get it4 ,there was a faint tremor in ,walton's voice4 ,with a hard calm he wouldn't have recognized six weeks ago1 ,ballard considered the consequences of making an excuse to go with ,walton4 ,but the excuse would destroy the pose of innocence he'd so carefully acted since his first suspicions of ,walton's intention4 ,and he could be wrong4 ,no sense in antagonizing ,walton1 particularly with the frayed condition both their nerves were in4 ,ok1 he grunted4 ,bring back another #e,r bit2 this one ,i've been using chitters4 ,there were the sounds of ,walton bounding down towards the ship in the peculiar dancing glide demanded by the low gravity4 ,methodically1 without looking up1 ,ballard continued his job1 following ,walton with his earphones4 ,only when the foundation fill was laid would it seem natural for him to stop working for a moment and go to the ship4 ,gradually1 layer on layer1 the plastic melted1 coated the walls and hardened4 ,he heard ,walton reach the ship1 then there was a slight ringing noise as the man touched his key-magnet to the airlock4 ,as ,walton entered the lock1 his mike registered the pressure of air by suddenly picking up all the sounds of the ship2 the throbbing of the generators1 the intermittent rush and sigh of the air conditioner1 and the close curved walls echoing back the scrape of his shoes on the locker room floor4 ,four minutes to go4 ,ballard finished melting the plastic onto the walls1 resisting the urge to hurry and risk botching the work4 ,walton had no reason to kill him--except for the rotenite4 ,and since its discovery1 ,walton had shown nothing but a surface friendship covering a hidden hatred and fear that was growing into surreptitious maneuverings towards murder4 ,but with a pretense at normality1 ,ballard hoped ,walton would get over his obsession and forget it1 never knowing that he'd seen anything suspicious4 ,and meanwhile ,ballard had only to stay out of the way of accidents without seeming suspiciously careful4 ,he added the last necessary layer of plastic1 switched off the heat beam and stood up4 ,there was no sign of motion around the ,minnow4 ,walton had not come out1 but ,ballard's earphones continued to pick up ,walton's nervous1 irregular breathing4 99 99 99 99 99 ,ballard started down the hill in long1 low floating bounds4 ,the ,minnow expanded up at him1 a ship etched in black and white against a jagged mass of black and grey ores4 ,just before landing on his second bound1 his earphones picked up a sharp metallic ringing note he couldn't identify4 ,suddenly the ship expanded up directly in front of him2 he'd overshot his landing4 ,he thudded into the ship1 slid down to the ground and landed facing the lock1 his key-magnet in hand4 ,again he heard the familiar tuning-fork note1 this time ringing faintly up from the magnet in his own hand as he put it against the circle of lighter metal that was the lock4 ,the circle turned1 with the magnet rotating out into a handle4 ,he grabbed it and yanked to slide back the airlock panel4 ,the yank pulled him off his feet4 ,for an instant he couldn't orientate2 then he realized that he had moved because the panel had not4 ,it was a case of action or reaction4 ,the panel had not budged1 seeming to be one with the flawless sweep of the hull4 ,he tried again1 yanking it with the same futile results4 ,apprehension flooded through him4 ,walton6 he called4 ,walton1 the panel's stuck6 ,open it from the inside6 ,for an instant he was aware of ,walton's nervous breathing1 then it stopped--there was a low chuckle4 ,listen1 ,ballard6 ,i'd be crazy to let you in4 ,don't you think ,i've seen you watching me like a hawk ever since we found the rotenite1 just waiting for a chance to catch me off guard6 ,i should have done this weeks ago1 but it didn't occur to me how clean and easy it would be until ,i thought of the airlock jamming with you outside4 ,so--the lock is jammed and you have left little over two hours of suit oxygen4 ,and while you're out there suffocating to death1 ,i'll be waiting in my sleep-tank on a nice euphoriac jag4 ,it's going to be nice being the richest man in the-- ,wait6 ,walton1 listen6 ,you're all wrong6 ,i-- ,walton had cut his radio4 ,for a moment1 ,ballard dumbly stood there1 his mind racing around like a pin-wheel4 ,slowly it stopped1 as numbing fear coursed through his nervous system4 ,he'd under-concealed his suspicions1 after all2 ,walton had suspected him of the very same thing he'd suspected ,walton of4 ,suddenly1 in spite of his predicament1 in spite of death waiting for him only a few hours in the future1 ,ballard smiled4 ,he really couldn't hate ,walton for what he'd done2 it was the old cliche again of too much greed and suspicion4 ,he realized that this didn't alter the fact that he was going to die--unless he could think of something fast4 ,ballard looked at his chronometer2 he now had less than two hours4 ,in spite of this1 his mind suddenly calmed and became clear4 ,first he'd have to think of all the possibilities of getting into the ,minnow1 then allot only so much time to each possibility4 ,there was the welding torch1 the heat-beam1 a pneumatic jackhammer1 and miscellaneous hand tools4 ,surely with that assortment he could knock or burn a hole in the ship4 ,all the air would swish out1 but there were enough suit cylinders to allow him to take the ship back if he didn't damage it too badly getting in4 ,and ,walton would be safe in his sleep-tank2 ,ballard would see to that by disconnecting the awakener4 99 99 99 99 99 ,ballard smiled at the stars as he bounded back to the hill where the tools lay4 ,walton had been a fool to lock him out here with cutting1 burning1 and pounding equipment--and almost two hours in which to use them4 ,things weren't so bad after all4 ,he decided to try the welding torch first4 ,he crossed over to the almost-completed blinker tower and picked up the torch and power-pack1 then from a tool box he selected a cutting nozzle4 ,carefully1 so not to exert himself and waste oxygen1 he glided down with his gear to the aft section of the ,minnow's hull just forward of the tubes where the skin was thinnest4 ,as he ignited the torch1 he was aware of what a temptation it was to drain off all the oxygen contained in the power-pack into his own cylinder4 ,quickly he went ahead and applied the torch to the skin of the ship4 ,ballard glanced at his chronometer3 ,an hour and a half to go4 ,good4 ,fifteen minutes would be long enough to tell whether the torch would cut through the skin or not4 ,if it would1 then he could use the rest of the time in cutting the hole4 ,after the first five minutes he turned the nozzle away and examined the spot where it had been applied4 ,not a mark4 ,six minutes went by4 ,then seven1 eight1 nine-- ,again he looked at the skin2 still no change4 ,three more minutes went by4 ,ballard felt sweat break out on his face as he pulled the torch away for a third time4 ,for a moment--his eyes still blinded by the glare--he could see nothing4 ,his heart sank4 ,then he detected a faint red spot with a whitish center4 ,it was working4 ,three more minutes and the hole would be started4 ,he turned back the nozzle to the glowing spot4 ,then with dismay he watched the torch sputter and go dead4 ,frantically he pushed the activator button-- ,stunned1 he finally noticed that the power-pack read empty4 ,walton had nearly exhausted it on the blinker tower4 ,ballard glanced at his wrist4 ,he still had an hour and fourteen minutes4 ,he didn't smile at the stars this time as he went back up the hill4 ,things didn't seem ironic any more1 merely dangerous4 ,he loaded the heat-beam with its larger power-pack onto the equipment platform and slowly dragged it behind him down to the ship4 ,an hour and two minutes left4 ,he went to work adjusting the beam to its maximum intensity2 then1 moving it as close to the hull as possible1 he turned it on full force4 ,time seemed to have stopped4 ,twice in one minute ,ballard glanced at his wrist1 expecting to see a lapse of ten or fifteen minutes4 ,only five minutes had dragged by2 he now had just fifty-seven left4 ,his spacesuit suddenly began reminding him of a coffin4 ,with superhuman effort he jerked his thoughts away from suffocation and back to the job4 ,forty-five minutes to go4 ,the beam wasn't going to work4 ,the sudden realization cut into ,ballard like a knife4 ,he should have known that in the first place2 a beam meant for plastic wasn't intense enough for the skin of a spaceship4 99 99 99 99 99 ,this time as ,ballard once more climbed the hill1 the stars seemed to be smiling at him4 ,but not with friendliness4 ,they seemed to smile death4 ,he got the jackhammer all the way down to the ship before a devastating thought struck him4 ,he'd forgotten that the hammer had a cracked #e,r bit2 it would fly to pieces on the diamond hardness of the hull4 ,he sat down1 stunned at the fact that he'd run out of things to try4 ,the ship lay before him like some impenetrable fortress4 ,several precious minutes dragged by before ,ballard could again calm his spinning brain4 ,he still had forty minutes4 ,had he overlooked any other possibility of getting into the ship8 ,slowly he walked around the ,minnow1 concentrating as he'd never concentrated before4 ,then as he stepped in front of the drive tubes something clicked3 ,the main tube was large enough for him to crawl into4 ,if he could remove the recoil plate and hydraulic mechanism1 he might be able to burn a hole through the ordinary steel bulkhead beyond4 ,half-bounding and half-running1 he returned from the hill with the tool box4 ,after selecting several likely wrench sizes1 he grabbed a flashlight and crawled up the tube4 ,he wasted five minutes unscrewing the first bolt holding the plate in place4 ,the second bolt was so corroded he couldn't budge it4 ,cursing he crawled out and dragged in the jackhammer1 hoping the cracked #e,r bit would hold until the bolt was knocked out4 ,it almost held1 flying to pieces just as there was a quarter inch to go4 ,frantically he somehow managed to knock the remainder out with the chuck of the hammer4 ,but it had taken ,ballard five more minutes4 ,only twenty-five left4 ,he went out and grabbed a crowbar and pried the plate off1 recoil cylinder and hydraulic fluid following like a jack-in-the-box4 ,after cleaning out the drive tube he almost lost his reason when he discovered the cable connecting the beam to the power-pack wasn't long enough to reach the bulkhead4 ,fortunately he found an extension in the bottom of the tool box4 ,fifteen minutes to go4 ,that should be just long enough4 ,he switched on the beam4 ,now time seemed to race by4 ,at ten minutes to go the bulkhead turned a cherry-red4 ,at five minutes it was almost white4 ,at four1 the steel started to buckle4 ,at three--the heat-beam suddenly went dead4 ,the power-pack was empty4 ,ballard's reason reeled4 ,he grabbed the crowbar and jabbed at the fast cooling metal4 ,too late4 ,in the one minute he had left to live1 ,ballard suddenly became calm1 reconciling himself to his end4 ,wearily he crawled out of the tube4 ,at least ,walton would be in for a nasty surprise1 with the main drive recoil plate gone4 ,and to make sure1 he would push it off into space4 ,with one last surge of fury he dragged up the foot thick plate he could never have lifted back on ,earth1 and started shoving to give it momentum4 ,momentum equals velocity times mass4 ,suddenly he stopped1 the plate drifting on ahead of him4 ,now why had he thought of that8 ,something from his school days--he tried hard to remember--something about mass4444 ,mass is a constant4 ,weight is a variable1 but mass is what knocks holes in things--spaceships1 for instance4 ,just one thing could save him now--momentum4 ,ballard glanced at his wrist4 ,twenty seconds to go4 ,then maybe another twenty from the oxygen in the connecting tube4 ,not much time-- ,he bounded off after the still-drifting plate1 then began forcing it around in a semi-circle back toward the ship4 ,the recoil plate sluggishly began to move faster as it gained momentum4 ,it started getting ahead of him so he gave it one last push1 and it slowly crept away heading straight for the hull4 ,it floated edge-wise into the aft section--and kept on going4 ,a three foot stream of light poured out from the side of the ship4 ,ballard started crawling into the hull and the light wavered and brightened4 ,he couldn't understand it4 ,then it dimmed altogether-- ,the last of his oxygen was gone4 ,dizzily he tried to squeeze through the rip4 ,he kept slipping back 444 back4 ,there was a roaring darkness all around him1 but he could still crawl4 ,for ages he seemed to be crawling over polished glass--,his head crashed into something that clanged hollowly4 ,some fading portion of his consciousness told him he was inside the ship--and the clang had been the spacelocker4 ,automatically1 as though by instinct1 he reached up and fumbled with the handle--,then he was clumsily trying to fit a new oxygen cylinder into place4444 99 99 99 99 99 ,ballard awoke feeling cramped and tired1 as though he'd slept all night in a bird cage4 ,he looked at his chronometer1 then at his suit air-gauge4 ,no4 ,he'd been out only a few minutes4 ,he got up and crawled into the sleep-tank compartment and disconnected ,walton's awakener4 ,then he went into the control room and looked up the nearest space-freighter lane in the radio call book1 and set up an automatic distress signal4 ,he felt as if he were going to pass out again--this time from sheer fatigue4 ,there was still one thing more he wanted to do4 ,out of the nose compartment he hauled a small case containing what had caused all the trouble-- ,then he crawled back out through the torn hull skin1 opened the case and flung every single one of the rotenite nuggets far out into space4