"And after it is over?"
"We'll establish the balance. Then we'll settle down again. We can take up where we left off."
"Not quite. Venus Equilateral has been seared by fire. We'll be tougher and less tolerant of outsiders. If we were a closed corporation before, we'll be tighter than a vacuum-packed coffee can afterwards. And the first bird that cracks us will get hissed at."
Three superliners hove into sight at the end of thirty-one hours. They circled the station, signaling by helio. They approached the air lock end of the station and made contact. Their bulk tipped the station slightly, tipped it and rotated it by gyroscopic reaction. The air lock was opened and space-suited figures swarmed over the mile-wide end of the station. A stream of big oxygen tanks were brought into the air lock, admitted, and taken to the last bulwark of huddled people on the fourth level.
From one of the ships there came a horde of men carrying huge square trays of dirt and green, growing sawgrass.
For six hours, Venus Equilateral was the scene of wild, furious activity. The dead air was blown out of bad areas, and the hissing of oxygen tanks was heard in every room. Gradually the people left the fourth level and returned to their rightful places. The station rang with laughter once more, and business, stopped short for want of breath, took a deep lungful of fresh air and went back to work.