He stood watching while George Atkinson spun around, dark eyes flashing, hair tousled. There was a two days' growth of beard darkening Atkinson's face. "Why, George," Loveral said, swiftly examining the litter of metal and wood which was spread over a table behind Atkinson. There was a home-made hammer in Atkinson's hand. "What have we here, George?""Something for you," Atkinson said, tightening his fingers about the handle of the hammer.Loveral grinned his famous Loveral grin. "That's fine. What could it be?" "None of your damned business.""George," Loveral said, his smile still white but his eyes narrow and quick.The woman was behind them. Her voice screeched. "George, I told you. Why didn't you listen, George? You should have listened to me. You—" Loveral held up a hand, still watching Atkinson. "Now tell me, George, what is it you're making for me?"Atkinson raised the hammer slightly.Loveral stood very still. "That's a nice hammer, George."Atkinson's eyes were black beneath his thick brows."You made that, didn't you?" Loveral asked."Yes, I made that," Atkinson said. "I made that and I made something else. Another minute and I'll have that finished, too." "George," said Loveral, stepping quietly forward, "I don't like to say this, of course. You've been one of our very best members. But nobody works here, George. We can't allow that. You know the rules." "I know the rules, all right.""Well, then," Loveral said, extending his hand toward the hammer, "we'll just destroy this and whatever else you might have been making. We'll just forget it ever happened. We'll get along real fine that way, George. We'll just be such good friends.""We'll just go to hell," said Atkinson, snatching his hammer away. Loveral's smile disappeared. "I'll tell you, George. I have to mean business with this. You know the reasons. If we allow anybody to work here, then there's going to be trouble. That isn't our plan. We're here to grow within ourselves and expand culturally. Not to commercialize a beautiful world like Dream Planet."
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