The last sphere having been planted he reflexively gathered up the empty carton and the small shovel, started toward the ship.
Following, Annette said, “Will slime molds take over our moon, now?” It occurred to her that perhaps this was part of Terra’s plan for conquest. But the idea did not ring right; this man had all the appearances of someone working in stealth alone. It was too much a Pare-like idea for her.
“You could do a lot worse,” Rittersdorf said laconically. He disappeared into the ship; after hesitating she went in after him, blinking in the bright overhead light.
There on a counter lay her lead-slug pistol; she had put it down when she was involved in filling the container with water.
Picking up the pistol Rittersdorf inspected it, then turned to her with a peculiar expression, almost a grin, on his face. “Yours?”
“Yep,” she said, humiliated. She held out her hand, hoping he would give it back. However he did not. “Oh please,” she said. “It’s mine and I laid it down because I was trying to help; you know that.”
He studied her a long, long time. And then handed her the pistol.
“Thank you.” She felt gratitude. “I’ll remember you did that.”
Philip K. Dick
“Clans Of The Alphane Moon”