The Asteroid of Gold
by Clifford D. Simak
from Wonder Stories, November 1932
Towards the end of the 1930’s many readers wondered if Simak would ever appear again. He had contributed only five stories to the professional magazines, and rumour had it he had written a masterpiece for one of those fan publications… what was it?… Marvel Tales or something.
Indeed Clifford Simak was comfortably making his way up the promotion ladder in newspaper circles. The lack of reliable markets had caused him to give up writing science fiction, and it was only when John Campbell became editor of Astounding Stories that he was coaxed back to the field. In hindsight we can all sigh with relief that Simak made that decision otherwise the field would be without a great deal of wealth in the form of Simakian gems.
The last story to appear from Simak in those early days was “The Asteroid of Gold”. Here you have a chance to compare a story written by a twenty-seven year old Simak, with his latest science fantasy novels, written in his late sixties. In essence Simak has turned full circle in his writings, but has never lost that basic appeal. His first professional appearance, “World of the Red Sun”, in the December 1931 Wonder Stories tells of adventurers who travel in time to the future and discover a gigantic brain which controls the remnants of mankind. The story of how they defeat the brain is adeptly related, and the final weapon was not one of the atomic weapons so glibly used in 1930’s sf, but simply psychology.
One of his more recent stories, “Construction Shack” in the January 1973 Galaxy reveals how explorers of Pluto discover plans for the building of the solar system, and how each planet was given up in turn as failure. In between these stories Simak has turned out well over one hundred beautiful science fiction stories, such as the “City” series, where old Earth is left to be civilized by intelligent dogs under the careful eye of Jenkins the robot. “City” went on to win the International Fantasy Award, and Simak later scooped the double when “The Big Front Yard” received the Hugo Award in 1959, and a second Hugo for “Way Station”.
Simak is noted for the generally optimistic tone of his work, wherein his characters are more saints than sinners, and good generally wins out against evil.
“After this charge well knock off for eats and sleep,” Vince Drake suggested to his brother.
Vernon Drake nodded.
“I’ve got the jitters from wearing the suit for such a long stretch,” he said. “I’m afraid we’re overdoing the work a bit, Vince.”
“It’s a tough racket,” his brother agreed, “but the sooner we get this load to earth, the quicker we can buy Space Pup II.”
The two moved over the rocky surface of the asteroid in apparently effortless leaps, heading toward the Space Pup, which squatted like a silver monster against the drab monotony of the little world. Here the gravity was slight, so slight, in fact, that the brothers wore ropes about their waists while at work, with the other ends fastened to the Space Pup. The ship was securely anchored to the planetoid with magnetic plates. Otherwise some slight disturbance might have sent it off into space.
A man, putting his full strength into a leap, could easily have torn himself from the face of the rocky little world and hurled himself beyond its attraction. Thus the ropes attached to the man and the ship. It would have been no joke to inadvertently hop off the tiny slab of rock and be unable to return. They had at first experimented with weighted shoes and then with magnetic plates attached to the soles, but both of these devices has proved cumbersome and awkward.
Overhead the stars moved steadily in the velvety blackness of absolute space. The asteroid, nothing more than a slab of rock some five miles in length, half as wide and approximately four miles thick, was tumbling rapidly end over end through space. Here one was afforded the astounding spectacle of observing the constellations march in orderly procession against the curtain of blackness which enveloped the airless little world.
Descending over the sunward horizon could be seen the Twin, only a matter of some fifteen miles distant. The two tiny slabs of rock, revolving about each other, made up a part of the asteroid belt, all that remained of a mythical planet between Mars and Jupiter (which must have disrupted into the thousands of tiny fragments many millions of years before).
Here and there in the blackness loomed dark splotches, some shining faintly with reflected light from the distant sun — other members of the belt. At times wandering chunks of rock hurtled across space, some passing close to the asteroid upon which the two brothers were located. At times showers of tiny meteors, travelling at bullet-like speeds, bombarded the little island of space. There was danger in plenty, but the stakes were high and the brothers braved the dangers.
Two slabs of rock revolving about one another, true twins of space…. but the Twin was only rock, while the one upon which Vince and Vernon Drake were conducting their mining operations was shot through and through with yellow veins of gold. The ore was rich, unbelievably rich, so rich that it practically crumbled under one’s fingers. The price of one cargo alone would run into six figures. A treasure house in space! A treasure hoard of the void!
The brothers reached the ship and Vince knelt to connect the wires to the detonator. The nitro was planted in shallow holes, with care taken that the charge was not excessive. With the slight gravity, too large a charge would simply blast a portion of the ore-bearing slab into space, possibly to be lost forever. This had happened several times before they had learned just how much nitro to use.
“Hang on!” cautioned Vince.
Vernon grasped a rung set in the side of the Space Pup. Vince slid his arm through a similar rung and with his free hand shot down the plunger of the detonator.
There was no noise, only a slight flush where the charges were planted. The planetoid trembled violently beneath their feet. The Space Pup quivered and tugged at its magnetic moorings as the rock beneath it shook to the charge of the explosive. About a half mile away, where the charge had been set, a shower of small rock fragments sailed upward, but they did not drop. Out and out they sailed until they were lost to view, each becoming a separate unit in the mass of debris which formed the asteroid belt.
“Now into the Pup” exclaimed Vince, “for some eats and a good long sleep. We’ve done a lot this shift.”
“The thing I look forward to is getting out of this suit.” declared Vernon.
He turned toward the door and as he did so he cast a glance upward. He stopped short in astonishment
“Vince, look!” he cried.
Looming out of the void, blotting out a portion of the sky, a huge, black ship hung almost directly above them. There had been nothing to apprise them of its coming. It had simply slipped out of the blackness of space and suddenly was there, hanging above the tiny world. They had seen no rocket blasts.
Their earphones rang as an imperative tone cut in upon their receiving sets.
“Stay where you are. Don’t move. We are going to land and we have guns on you.”
The ship was speaking to them.
“Who the hell are you?” demanded Vernon.
“Max Robinson, of the Space Ship Star Wanderer, speaking.”
Max Robinson, of the Star Wanderer! The faces of the two brothers paled under their helmets. The most notorious raider of the space lines! Plunderer extraordinary. Cut-throat bandit of the void. How had he learned of the wondrous treasure on the little asteroid?