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DESTINATION MOON









Today, with space full of ships, colonies on the inner planets, and EarthÆs Moon so close that pilots on the Luna run sleep home nights, it isò hard to imagine when æflying to the Moonö was a figure of speech for the impossible, when men who thought it could be done were visionaries, crackpots.
It is hard to realize the opposition they faced, to understand why they persisted, what they thought.
ù Farquharson, History of Transportation, III: 414

I

The Mojave Desert was gray with first morning light, but at the construction site lights were still burning in the office of the technical director. The office was quiet, save for petulant burbling of a pot of coffee.
Three men were presentùthe director himself, Doc
tor Robert Corley, Lincoln-tall and lean, Rear Admiral ôRedö Bowles, regular navy retired, and Jim Barnes, head of Barnes Aircraft, Barnes Tool Works, other enterpnses.
    All three needed shaves; Barnes badly needed a haircut as well. Barnes was seated at CorleyÆs desk; Bowles sprawled on a couch, apparently asleep and looking like a fat, redheaded baby; Doctor Corley paced the room, following a well worn pattern.
    He stopped, and stared out the window. A thousand yards away on the floor of the desert a great ship, pointed and sleek, thrust up into the sky, ready to punch out through EarthÆs thick atmosphere.
    Wearily he turned away and picked up a letter from the desk; it read:

Reaction Associates, Inc.
Mojave, California.

Gentlemen:

    Your request to test the engine of your atomic-powered rocket ship at the site of its construction is regretfully denied.
    Although it is conceded that no real danger of atomic explosion exists, a belief in such danger does exist in the public mind. It is the policy of the CommissionùCorley skipped down to the last paragraph:ùtherefore, test is authorized at the Special Weapons Testing Center, South Pacific. Arrangements may beù

He stopped and shoved the letter at Barnes. ôIf weÆve got to test at Eniwetok, weÆve got to find the money to do it.ö
    BarnesÆ voice showed exasperation. ôDoc, IÆve told you the syndicate wonÆt put up another dime; there is no other money to be found.ö
    ôConfound itùwe should have government money!ö
    Barnes grunted. ôTell that to Congress.ö
    Without opening his eyes Bowles commented, ôThe United States is going to stall around and let Russia get to the Moon firstùwith hydrogen bombs~ ThatÆs what you call æpolicy.ö
    Corley chewed his lip. ôItÆs got to be now.ö
    ôI know it.ö Barnes got up and went to the window. The rising sun caught a highlight on the polished skin of the great ship. ôItÆs got to be now,ö he repeated soffly.
    He turned and said, ôDoc, when is the next favorable time to leave?ö
    ôWhen we planned on itùnext month.ö
    ôNo, I mean this month.ö
    Corley glanced at the wall calendar, dug into a bookcase for a well-thumbed volume, did a quick estimate. ôTomorrow morningùaround four oÆclock.ö
    ôThatÆs it, then. We blast off tomorrow morning.ö

Admiral Bowles sat up with a jerk. ôBlast off in an untested ship? Jim, youÆre crazy!ö
    ôProbably. But now is the timeùnow. If we wait even a month, we will be tangled in some new snafu. That ship is ready, except for testing the power plant. So weÆll skip the test!ö
    ôBut we havenÆt even selected a crew.ö
    Barnes grinned. ôWeÆre the crew!ö
    Neither Corley nor Bowles answered. Barnes went on, ôWhy not? The takeoff is automatic. Sure, we agreed that we should have young men, fast reflexes, and all that malarkeyùand every damned one of us has been trying to figure out a reason why he should be included. You, Red, you sneaked off to Moffeatt Field and took a pilotÆs physical. Flunked it, too. DonÆt lie to me;~ I know. And you, Doc, youÆve been hinting that you ought to nurse the power plant yourselfùyouÆve been working on your wife, too.ö
    ôEh?ö
    ôShe wanted me to say that the syndicate would object to yOur going. DonÆt worry; I didnÆt agree.ö
    Corley looked at him levelly. ôIÆve always intended to go. She knows that.ö
    ôThatÆs my boy! Red?ö
    Bowles heaved himself to his feet. ôShucks, Jim, I didnÆt bust that physical muchùjust overweight.ö
    ôYouÆre in. I donÆt want an eager young beaver as co-pilot anyhow.ö
    ôæCoùpilot?Æö
    ôWant to rassle me for skipper? Red, IÆve meant to gun this crate myself ever since the dayùLordy, four years ago!ùwhen you brought Doc to see me with a sat⌠helful of blueprints.ö He drew a breath and looked around. exultantly.
    Bowles said, ôLetÆs see. You for pilot; IÆm co-; Doc is chief. That leaves nobody but the radarman. You canÆt possibly train a man in the electronics of that ship by tomorrow morning.ö
    Barnes shrugged. ôHobsonÆs choiceùit has to be Ward.ö He named the chief electronics engineer of the project.
    Bowles turned to Corley. ôDoes Ward hanker to go?ö Corley looked thoughtful. ôIÆm sure he does. We havenÆt discussed it.ö He reached for the phone. ôIÆll call his quarters.ö
    Barnes stuck a hand .j~ the way. ôNot so fast. Once the word got out, the Commission has twenty-four hours in which to stop us.ö
    Bowles glanced at his watch. ôTwenty-one hours.ö
    ôLong enough, anyhow.ö
    Corley frowned. ôWe canÆt keep it secret. WeÆve got to load that ship. IÆve got to reach Dr. Hastings and get our ballistic calculated.ö
    ~ôOne thing at a time.ö Barnes paused, frowning.
    ôHereÆs the plan: weÆll tell everybody that this is just a. dress rehearsal, but complete in all details, road blocks, rations, reporters, check-off lists, the works. Doc, you get the power plant ready. Red, youÆre in charge of loading. Me, IÆm going into Mojave and phone Hastings. Then IÆll phone the University and arrange for the big computer.ö
    ôWhy drive twenty miles?ö Corley protested. ôCall from here.ö
    ôBecause these wires are probably tappedùand I donÆt mean the F.B.I.! Aside ffom us three and Ward, Hastings is the one man who must know the truthù when he figures that ballistic, heÆs got to know it matters.ö
    Barnes reached for his hat. ôDoc, you can call Ward nowùhere I go.ö
    ôWait!ö said Bowles. ôJim, youÆre going off half cocked. You can at least find out from here where Hastings is. You may have to fly down to Palomar and get him.ö
    Barnes snapped his fingers. ôI am half cocked, Red. I forgot the most important itemùthe reason why I canÆt use my plane myself; I need it for the Resident Inspector.ö He referred to the project representative of the Atomic Energy Commission.
    ôHolmes? Why does he need your plane?ö
    ôTo get lost in. IÆm going to persuade Ned Holmes to go to Washington and make one last plea for us to be allowed to test our engine here. HeÆll do it; turning us down wasnÆt his idea. Our boy Andy will fly him in my planeùand Andy will be forced down in the desert, forty miles from a phone. Very sad.ö
    Corley grudged a smile. ôSounds like kidnapping.ö
    Barnes looked innocent.
    ôOf course Holmes will put the CommissionÆs seal on the power pile before he leaves.ö
    ôAnd weÆll break it. Any more objections? If not, letÆs get Andy, Holmes, and Ward, in that order.ö
    Admiral Bowles whistled. ôDoc,ö he said, ôthat engine of yours had better work, or we will spend the rest of our lives in jail. Well, letÆs get busy.ö

II

The morning was well worn by the time Jiiii Barnes drove back to the construction site. The company guard
at the pass gate waved him through; he stopped nevertheless. ôHowdy, Joe.ö
    ôMorning, Mr. Barnes.ö
    ôI see the gate is open. Any orders from the front office?ö
    ôAbout the gate? No. Somebody called and said today was dress rehearsal for the Big Boy.ö The guard hooked a thumb toward the ship, two miles away.
    ôThatÆs right. Now listen; this dress rehearsal must be letter perfect. Keep that gate locked. Clear with me, or Admiral Bowles, or Doctor Corley himself before unlocking it.ö
-    ôGotcha, Mr. Barnes.ö
    ôJust remember that there are people who would do anything to keep that ship over there from leaving the groundùand they donÆt necessarily have foreign accents.ö
    ôPonÆt worry, Mr. Barnes.ö
    But he did worry; corking up the gate still left fourteen miles of unguarded fence.
    Oh, wellùit was a risk that must be accepted. He drove on past the living quarters, through the circle of shops. The area swarmed with people, on foot, in trucks, in jeeps. Trucks were lined up at the entrance to the bull pen surrounding the ship itself. Barnes pulled up at the administration building.
    In CorleyÆs office he found Bowles, Corley himselfù and CorleyÆs wife. Corley looked harassed; Mrs. Corley was quite evidently angry. ôGreetings, folks,ö he said. ôAm I butting in?ö
    Corley looked up. ôCome in, Jim.ö
    Barnes bowed to Mrs. Corley. ôHow do you do, maÆam?ö
    She glared at him. ôYou! YouÆre responsible for this!ö
    ôMe, Mrs. Corley? For what?ö
    ôYou know very well æwhatÆ! Oh you.. . you. . .ô She caught her breath, then gave vent to one explosive word: ôMen!ö She slammed out of the room.
    When the door had closed behind her, Barnes let his
eyebrows seek their natural level. ôI see she knows. You shouldnÆt have told her, not yet, Doe.ö
    ôConfound it, Jim. I didnÆt expect her to kick up a fuss.ö
    Bowles faced around in his chair. ôDonÆt be a fool, Jim. DoeÆs wife had to knowùwives arenÆt hired hands.öò
    ôSorry. The damage is done. Doc, have you put any check on phone calls?ö
    ôWhy, no.ö
    ôDo it. Wait, IÆll do it.ö He stepped to the door. ôCountess, call our switch board. Tell Gertie to switch all outgoing calls to you. You tell æem firmly that outside lines are all in use, find out who it is, why they want to call, and whomùthen tell the Director, Admiral Bowles, or me. Same for incoming calls.ö
    He closed the door and turned back to Bowles.
    ôYour wife knows?ö
    ôOf course.ö
    ôTrouble?ö
    ôNo. Navy wives get used to such things, Jim.ö
    ôI suppose so. Well, I got Hastings squared away. He says that he will be here with the tape not later than two in the morning. Ive got a plane standing by for him.ö
    Corley frowned. ôThatÆs cutting it fine. We ought to have more time to set up the autopilot.ö
    ôHe says he canÆt promise it sooner. How about things here?ö
    ôLoading is coming all right,ö answered Bowles, ôprovided the trucks with the oxygen arenÆt late.ö
    ôYou should have flown it in.ö
    ôQuit uttering. The trucks are probably in Cajon Pass this minute.ö
    ôOkay, okay. Power plant, Doe?ö
    ôI havenÆt broken Ned HolmesÆ seal on the atomic pile yet. The water tanks are filling, but theyÆve just started.ö
    He was interrupted . by the telephone at his elbow. ôYes?ö
    His secretaryÆs voice sounded in the room. ôYour wife
wants to call long distance, Doctor. IÆm stalling her. Are you in?ö
    ôPut her on,ö he said wearily. Mrs. CorleyÆs words could not be heard, but her angry tones came through. Corley answered, ôNo, dear. . . ThatÆs right, dear. IÆm sorry but thatÆs how it is. . . no, I donÆt know when the lines will be free; weÆre holding them for calls placed to the east coast. . . no, you canÆt have the car; IÆm using it. Iùö He looked surprised and replaced the instrument. ôShe hung up on me.ö
    ôSee what I mean?ö said Barnes.
    ôJim, youÆre a fool,ö Bowles answered.
    ôNo, IÆm a bachelor. Why? Because I canÆt stand the favorite sport of all women.ö
    ôWhich is?ö
    ôTrying to geld stallions. LetÆs get on with the job.ö
    ôRight,ö agreed Corley and flipped a key on his Teletalk. ôHelen, call the electronics shop and tell Mr. Ward that I want to see him.ö
    ôHavenÆt you broken the news to him?ö demanded Barnes.
    ôWard? Of course.ö
    ôHow did he take it?ö
    ôWell enough. Ward is high strung. At first he insisted there wasnÆt time to get all the electronic gear ready.ö
    ôBut heÆs in?ö
    ôHeÆs in.ö Corley stood up. ôIÆve got to get back into the ship.ö -
    ôMe, too,ö Bowles agreed.

Barnes followed them out. As they passed the desk of CorleyÆs secretary she was saying, ôOne moment, puhleaseùIÆm ringing him.ö She looked up and pointed to Corley.
    Corley hesitated. ôUh, uh,ö said Barnes, ôif you let æem tie you up on the phone, weÆll never take off. IÆm elected. Go on, you two. Get the buggy ready to go.ö
    ôOkay.ö Corley added to his secretary, ôGot Mr. Ward yet?ö
    ôNot in the electronics shop. IÆm chasing him.ö
    ôI want him right away.ö
    Barnes went back inside and spent an hour handling a logjam on the telephone. Personal calls he simply stalled on the excuse that the lines were needed for priority long distance calls. I-f a call was concerned with getting the ship ready to go, he handled it himself or monitored it. As best he could he kept the construction site an island, cut off from the world.

He straightened out a matter with the chief metallurgist, gave the accounting office an okay on some overtime of the week before, assured Associated Press that the ôdress rehearsalö was worth full coverage, and gleefully extended an invitation to the Los Angeles Associated Civic Clubs to go through the shipùnext week.
    That done, he took CorleyÆs dictaphone and began a memorandum to his business manager on how to close the project in case (a) the trip was successful, (b) the ship crashed. He planned to mark it to be transcribed the following day. -
    A call from Dr. Corley interrupted him. ôJim? I canÆt find Ward.ö
    ôTried the menÆs wash rooms?ö
    ôNoùbut I will.ö
    ôHe canÆt be far away. Anything wrong in his department?ö
    ôNo, but I need him.ö
    ôWell, maybe heÆs finished his tests and gone to his quarters to catch some sleep.ö
    ôThereÆs no answer from his quarters.ö
    ôPhone could be off the hook. IÆll send someone to dig him out.ö
    ôDo that.ö
    While he was arranging this, Herbert Styles, public relations chief for the project, came in. The press agent slumped down in a chair and looked mournful.
    ôHowdy, Herb.ö
    ôHowdy. Say, Mr. Barnes, letÆs you and me go back to Barnes Aircraft and quit this crazy dump.ö
    ôWhatÆs biting you, Herb?ö
    ôWell, maybe you can make some sense out of whatÆs going on. They tell me to get everybody in here by three A.M.ùA.P., U.P., INS, radio chains, television trucks, and stuff. Then you lock the joint up like a schoolhouse on Sunday. And all this for a practice drill, a dry run. WhoÆs crazy? Me or you?ö
    Barnes had known Styles a long time. ôItÆs not a drill, Herb.ö
    ôOf course not.ö Styles ground out a cigarette. ôNow how do we play it?ö
    ôHerb, IÆm in a squeeze. WeÆre going to take offùat three fifty-three tomorrow morning. If word gets out before then, theyÆll find some way to stop us.ö
    ôWhoÆs ætheyÆ? And why?ö
    ôThe Atomic Energy Commission for oneùfor jumping off with an untested power-pile ship.ö
    Styles whistled. ôBucking the Commission, eh? Oh, brother! But why not test it?ö
    Barnes explained, concluding with, ôùso we canÆt test it. IÆm busted, Herb.ö
    ôIsnÆt everybody?ö
    ôThat isnÆt all.. Call it a hunch, or anything you like. If we donÆt take off now, we never willùeven if I had the dinero to test in the South Pacific. WeÆve had more than our share of bad luck on this projectùand I donÆt believe in luck.ö
    ôMeaning?ö
    ôThere are people who want this enterprise to fail. Some are crackpots; some are jealous. Othersùö
    ôOthers,ö Styles finished for him, ôdonÆt like the United States getting space travel first any better than they liked us getting the atom bomb first.ö
    ôCheck.ö
    ôSo what do you want to guard against? A time bomb in the ship? Sabotage of the controls? Or the Federal marshal with a squad of soldiers to back him up?ö
    ôI donÆt know!ö -    Styles stared at nothing.
    ôBossùö
    ôYeh?ö
    ôItem: pretty soon youÆve got to admit publicly that itÆs a real takeoff, for youÆve got to evacuate this valley.
The sheriff and state police wonÆt play games just for a drill.ö
    ôButùö
    ôItem: by now it is after office hours on the east coast. YouÆre fairly safe from the Commission until morning. Item: any sabotage will be done on the spur of the moment, provided it isnÆt already built into the ship.ö
    ôToo late to worry about anything built into the ship.ö
    ôJust the same, if I were you, I would go over her with a toothpick. Any last minute stuff will be done with a wrench, behind a control panel or suchùwhat they used to call ætarget of opportunity.ö
    ôHard to stop.ö
    ôNot too hard. There isnÆt anything that can be done to that ship down at its base, right? Well, if my neck depended on that heap, I wouldnÆt let anybody up inside. it from now on, except those going along. Not anybody, not even if he carried a certificate of Simon-pure onehundred-percentism from the D.A.R. IÆd watch what went in and IÆd stow things with my own little pattypaws.ö
    Barnes chewed his lip. ôYouÆre right. Herbùyou just bought yourself a job.ö
    ôSuch as?ö
    ôTake over here.ö He explained what he bad been. doing. ôAs for the press, donÆt tip them off until you have to make arrangements for the road blocks and evacuationùmaybe you can keep things wrapped up
until around midnight. IÆm going up into that -ship andùö
The telephone jangled; he picked it up. ôYes?ö It was Bowles.
    ôJimùcome to the electronics shop."
    ôTrouble?ö
    ôPlenty. Ward has run out on us.ö
    ôOh, oh! IÆll be right over.ö He slammed the phone and said, ôTake over, Herb!ö
     ôWilco!ö

Outside, he jumped in his car and swung around the circle to the electronics shops. He found Bowles and
Corley in WardÆs office. With them was Emmanuel Traub,, WardÆs first assistant. ôWhat happened?ö
    Corley answered, ôWard is in the hospitalùacute appendicitis.ö
    Bowles snorted. ôAcute funk!ö
    ôThatÆs not fair! Ward wouldnÆt run out on me.ö
    Barnes cut in. ôIt doesnÆt matter either way. The question is: what do we do now?ö
    Corley looked sick. ôWe canÆt take off.ö
    ôStow that!ö Barnes turned to Bowles. ôRed, can you handle the electronics?ö
    ôHardly! I can turn the knobs on an ordinary twowayùbut that ship is all electronics.ö
    ôIÆm in the same fixùDoc, you could. Or couldnÆt you?ö
    ôUh, maybeùbut I canÆt handle radar and power plant both.ö
    ôYou could teach me to handle power plant and Red could pilot.ö
    ôHuh? I canÆt make a nucleonics technician out of you in something like a matter of hours.ö

Barnes seemed to feel the world pressing in on him. He shook off the feeling and turned to Traub. ôMannie, you installed a lot of the electronic gear, didnÆt you?ö
    ôMe? I installed all of it; Mr. Ward didnÆt like to go up the Gantry crane. He is a nervous type guy.ö
    Barnes looked at Corley. ôWell?ö
    Corley fidgeted. ôI donÆt know.ö
    Bowles said suddenly, ôTraub, where did you go to college?ö
    Traub looked hurt. ôI got no fancy degree but I carry a civil service classification of senior electronics engineerùa P-5. I did three years in the Raytheon labs. I had my ham license since I was fifteen, and I was a master sergeant in the Signal Corps. If it makes with electrons, I savvy it.ö
    Barnes said mildly, ôThe Admiral didnÆt mean any harm, Mannie. What do you weigh?ö
    Traub shifted - his eyes from one *0 the other. ôMr. Barnesùthis is no rehearsal? This is it?ö
    ôThis is it, Mannie. We take offùö He glanced at his watch. ôùin thirteen hours.ö -
    Traub was breathing hard. ôYou gentlemen are asking me to go to the Moon with you? Tonight?ö -
    Before Barnes could answer, Bowles put in:
    ôThatÆs it, Mannie.ö
    Traub swallowed hard. ôYes,ö he said.
    ôYes?ö Barnes echoed..
    ôIÆll go.ö
    Corley said hastily, ôTraub, we donÆt want to rush you.ö
    ôDirector, take a look at my job application. I put down æWilling to travel.ö

III

The great ship was ringed with floodlights spaced inside the bull pen. It was still framed by the skeleton arch of the Gantry crane, but the temporary anti-radiation shield which had surrounded its lower part down to the jets was gone; instead there were pOsted the trefoil signs used to warn of radioactivityùalthough the level of radiation had not yet become dangerously high. -
    But the power pile was unsealed and the ship was ready to go. Thirteen-fifteenths of its mass was water, ready to be flashed into incandescent steam by the atomic pile, to be thrown away at thirty thousand feet
per second.    -
    High up in the ship was the control room and adjacent airlock. Below the air lock the permanent anti-radiation shield ran across the ship, separating the pressurized crew space from the tanks, the pumps, the pile itself, and auxiliary machinery. Above the control room, the nose of the craft was unpressurized cargo space. -
    At its base triangular airfoils spread out like oversize finsùfins they would be as the ship blasted away; glider wings they would become when the ship returned to Earth with her tanks empty.
    Jim Barnes was at the foot of the Gantry crane, giving last-minute orders. A telephone had been strung out to the crane; it rang and he turned to answer it.
    ôMr. Barnes?ö
    ôYes, Herb.ö
    ôSheriffÆs office reports road blocks in place and everybody out of the valleyùit cost plenty cumshaw to clear the Idle Hour Guest Rancho, by the way.ö
    ôNo matter.ö
    ôEverybody out, that is, but Pete the Hermit. He wonÆt git.ö
    ôThe old boy with the whiskers in that shack north of the gate?ö -
    ôThe same. We finally told him the score, but it didnÆt faze him. He says he ainÆt never seen no ship take off for the Moon and he ainÆt planning to miss it, not at his age.ö
    Barnes chuckled. ôCanÆt blame him. Well, let him sign the release our own people sign. Tell him if he wonÆt sign, the show wonÆt take place.ö
    ôAnd if he doesnÆt sign?ö
    ôHerb, I take off even if some damn fool is standing under the jets. But donÆt tell him.ö
    ôI got you. Now bow about the press?ö
    ôTell them nowùbut keep them off my neck. And even with releases they stay in the blockhouse.ö
    ôIÆll have trouble with the fiewsreel and television
people.ö
    ôRemote control or nothing. Herd æem in, -you go in last and lock the door behind you. They can string all the wires into the blockhouse they need, but nobody stays inside the area unsheltered.ö
    ôMr. Barnesùdo you really think the blast will be that dangerous?ö
    BarnesÆ reply was drowned out by the bull horn from the blockhouse: ôAttention! The last bus is now loading at the north entrance to the shop circle!ö
    Presently Styles resumed:
    ôAnother callùyou better take it, boss. Trouble.ö
    ôWho is it?ö
    ôCommanding general at Muroc.ö
    ôPut him on.ö In a moment he was saying, ôJim Barnes, General. How are you?ö
    ôOhùhello, Mr. Barnes. I hate to buck you, but your man seems unreasonable. Is it necessary to ask us to keep radar crews up all night for your practice drill?ö
    ôMmm .-. . General, isnÆt your tracking radar always manned anyhow? I thought this country had a æradar umbrellaÆ over it.ö
    The general answered stiffly, ôThatÆs not a proper question, Mr. Barnes.ö
    ôI suppose not. Big difference between passing a law and getting appropriations to carry it out, isnÆt there?ö He thought a minute. ôGeneral, suppose I guarantee blips on your tracking screens?ö
    ôWhat do you mean?ö
    Barnes said, ôGeneral, IÆve known you since open cockpits. YouÆve used a lot of my planes~ö
    ôYou make good planes, Mr. Barnes.ö
    ôTonight I want some cooperation. This is it, Whitey.ö
    ôHuh?ö
    ôWe blast -off tonight. As long as you know, you can call White Sands and make sure they track us, too. And Whiteyùö -
    ôYes, Jim?ö
    ôWhat with getting your crew organized and calling White Sands it will be another hour before you can call Washington, wouldnÆt you think?ö

Silence persisted so long that Barnes thought he - had been cut off, then the general answered, ôIt might take that long. Anything more you had better tell me?ö
    ôNo. . . thatÆs enough. Except one thing; IÆm going, Whitey. IÆm piloting it.ö
    ôOh. Good luck, Jim.ö
    ôThanks, Whitey.ö
    As Barnes turned away, he saw a plane circling the area, its lights blinking. The elevator creaked behind him; he looked up to see Corley, Bowles, and Traub descending. Corley shouted, ôIs that Dr. Hastings?ö
    ôI hope so.ö
    The plane landed and a jeep drove up to it. A few minutes later the jeep swung into the bull pen and up to the crane; Doctor Hastings got out. Corley ran to meet
him.
    ôDoctor Hastings! You have it?ö
    ôGreetings, gentlemen. Yes, indeed.ö Hastings tapped a bulging pocket.
    ôGive it to me!ö
    ôSuppose we go into the ship? IÆd like to discuss it with you.ö
    ôJump aboard.ö The two savants mounted the elevator and started up.
    Admiral Bowles touched BarnesÆ sleeve. ôJimùa word with you.ö
    ôShoot.ö
    Bowles indicated Traub with his eyes; Barnes caught the meaning and they moved inside. ôJim,ö Bowles
asked in a whisper, ôwhat do you know about this man Traub?ö
    ôNothing that you donÆt. Why?ö
    ôHeÆs foreign born, isnÆt he? Germany? Poland?ö
    ôRussia, for all I know. Does it matter?ö
    Bowles frowned. ôThereÆs been sabotage, Jim.ö
    ôThe hell you say! What sort?ö
    ôThe earth-departure radar wouldnÆt function. Traub opened up the front, then called me over.ö
    ôWhat was it?ö
    ôA pencil mark drawn between two leads. Itùö
    ôI get you, a carbon short. Sabotage, all right. Well?ö
    ôMy point is, he found it too easily. How would he know right where to find it if he didnÆt do it himself?ö
    Barnes thought about it. ôIf Traub is trying to stop us, all he has to do is to refuse to go. We canÆt go without himùand he knows it.ö
    ôSuppose his object was not just to stop us, but to wreck the ship?ö
    ôAnd kill himself in the bargain? Be logical, Red.ö
    ôSome of those people are fanatics, Jim. Beyond logic.ö
    Barnes considered it. ôForget it, Red.ö
    ôButùö
    ôI said, æForget it!Æ Get on back in that ship and prowl around. Imagine that you are a saboteur, try to think where you would hide a bombùor what you would wreck.ö
    ôAye, aye, sir!ö
    ôGood. Mannie!ö
    ôYes, Mr. Barnes.ö Traub trotted up; Barnes told him to go up and continue checking. The phone at the foot of the crane rang; it was Styles again.
    ôBoss? Just got a call from the pass gate. The deputy there is hooked by car radio with the deputies at the road blocksùö
    ôGood. Nice organizing, Herb."
    ôNot good! The north road black reports a car with a bailiff; he has a federal court order to stop the takeoff. They let him through.ö
    Barnes swore softly. ôCall, the pass gate. Tell the deputy there to stop him.ö
    ôI did. He wonÆt. He says he canÆt interfere with federal business.ö
    ôThat tears it!ö Barnes stopped to think. ôTell him to make almighty sure that the man is what he says he is. Tell him that the court order is almost certainly phony-which it is. Tell him to hold the man while he gets in touch with the sheriffÆs office and has the sheriff phone the judge who is supposed to have issued the described order.ö
    ôIÆll try,ö Styles answered, ôbut suppose the order is kosher, boss? HadnÆt I better just put the slug on him and dump him in a closet until the fireworks are over?ö
    Barnes weighed this. ôNoùyouÆd spend your life breaking rocks. Gain me all the minutes you canùthen hightail it for the blockhouse. Is everybody clear?ö
    ôEverybody but the car and driver for Mrs. Corley.ö
    ôHow about Admiral BowlesÆ wife?ö
    ôHe sent her off earlierùthe Admiral doesnÆt like ships watched out of sight.ö -
    ôBless his superstitious heart! Send Mrs. CorleyÆs car into the pen. IÆm going to button up around here.ö
    ôRoger!ö
    Barnes turned around to find Corley and Hastings descending. He waited, bursting with impatience. Corley spoke as they reached bottom. ôOh, Jim, Iùö
    ôNever mind! Is everything okay up there?ö
    ôYes, butùö
    ôNo time! Say good-bye to your wife, Doctor Hastings ùgood-bye, and thanks! Your planeÆs waiting.ö
    ôJim,ö protested Corley, ôwhatÆs the rush? ItÆsùö
    ôNo time!ö A car swung in through the gate of the pen, came toward them. ôThereÆs your wife. Say good-bye
and get back here. Move!ö Barnes turned away and went to the crane operator. ôBarney!ö -
    ôYeah?ö
    ôWeÆre going up nowùfor the last time. As soon as we are off the crane, back it-away. ùThe safety stops are off the tracks?ö
    ôSure.ö
    ôOff entirely, or just moved back?ö
    ôOff entirely. DonÆt worry; I wonÆt run her off the rails.ö
    ôYes, you will. Run the crane right off the end.ö ôHuh? Mr. Barnes, if I dropped the wheels into the sand, it would take a week to get her back on.ö
    ôCheck. ThatÆs exactly what I want. After you do it, donÆt stop to explain; just run for the blockhouse.ö
    The operator looked baffled. ôOkayùyou said it.ö
    Barnes came back to the elevator. Corley and his wife were standing near her car. She was crying.
    Barnes shaded his eyes against the floodlights and tried to see the road to the pass gate. The foundry cut off his view. Suddenly headlights gleamed- around that building, turned onto the shop circle and came toward the bull pen entrance. Barnes shouted, ôDoc! Now! Hurry!ö
    Corley looked up, then hastily embraced his wife. Barnes shouted, ôCome on! Come on!ö
    Corley waited to hand his wife into the car. Barnes climbed onto the elevator and, as Corley reached it, pulled him aboard. ôBarney! UP!ö
    Cables creaked and groaned; the platform crawled upward. As Mrs. CorleyÆs car approached the gate the other car started -in. Both cars stopped, then th& strange car bulled on throUgh. It ægunned in second toward the crane and slammed to a stop; a man swarmed out.
    He ran to the elevator, the platform was thirty feet above his head. He waved and shouted. ôBarnes! Come down here!ö
    Barnes shouted back, ôCanÆt hear you! Too much racket!ö
    ôStop the elevator! IÆve got a court order!ö
    The driver of the car )umped out and ran toward the crane control station. Barnes watched, unable to stop whatever was to come.
    Barney reached behind him and grabbed a wrench; the driver stopped short. ôGood boy!ö Barnes breathed.
    The elevator reached the airlock door; Barnes nudged Corley. ôIn you go!ö He followed Corley, turned and lifted the gangway off the lip of the door, shoved it clear with his foot. ôBarney! Get going!öÆ
    The crane operator glanced up and shifted his controls.ÆThe crane quivered, then very slowly crawled back from the ship, cleared it, and continued.
    It backed still farther, lurched out of plumb, and trembled. Its drive motor squealed and stopped. Barney slid out of his saddle and loped away toward the gate.

IV

Time checks had been completed with Muroc, with White Sands and with their blockhouse. The control room was quiet save for the sighing ofÆair-replenishing equipment, the low hum of radio circuits, and stray sounds of-auxiliary machinery. The clocks at each station read 3:29ùtwenty-four minutes to H-hour. -
    The four were at their stations; two upper bunks were occupied by pilot and co-pilot; the lowers by power engineer and electronics engineer. Across the lap of each man arched a control console; his arms were supported so that his fingers were free to handle his switches without lifting any part of his body against the terrible weight to come. His head was supported so that he might see his instruments.
    Traub lifted his head and peered out one of the two large quartz ports. ôItÆs clouding up. æ1 canÆt see the -~ Moon.ö
    Barnes answered, ôOut where weÆre going there wonÆt be any clouds.ö
    ôNo clouds?ö
    ôWhat do you expect, out in space?ö
    ôUh, I donÆt know. I guess I got most of my ideas about space travel from -Buck Rogers. Electronics is my game.ö     ôTwenty-three minutes,ö announced Bowles. ôSkipper, whatÆs the name Of this bucket?ö
    ôHuh?ö
    ôWhen you launch a ship you have to name her.ö
    ôEh, I suppose so. Doc, what do you say? SheÆs your baby.ö
    ôMe? IÆve never thought about it.ö
    ôHow,ö Bowles went on, ôabout calling her the Luna?ö
    Corley considered. ôSuits me, if it suits the rest of you.ö
    ôThe space ship Luna, ô agreed Barnes. ôSounds good.ö
    Traub chuckled nervously. ôThat makes us æthe Lunatics.'"
    ôAnd why not?ö agreed Barnes.
    ôTwenty minutes,ö announced Bowles.
    ôWarm her up, Doc. Check-off lists, everybody."
    ôSheÆs hot now,ö Corley answered. ôIf I increase the fission rate, IÆll have to give her something to chew. Jim, IÆve been thinking. We could still test her.ö
    ôHuh?ö
    ôSet her for a half-g lift, and clear her throat once IÆve got her set for that.ö
    ôWhatÆs the point? SheÆ either works, or she blows up.ö
    ôOkay,ö Corley answered.
    Traub gulped. ôCould she blow up?ö
    ôDonÆt worry,ö Cqrley reassured him. ôThe scale model ran an hour and twenty-three minutes before it blew up.ö
    ôOh. Is that good?ö~ -
    ôMannie,ö Barnes ordered. ôSwitch on æGround PickUp.Æ We might as well watch.ö
    ôYes, sir.ö Above them was a large TV screen. Traub could hook it in to a scanner in the tail, another in the nose, orùas nowùpick up an ordinary video channel. The screen lighted up; they saw their own ship, lonely and tall in the floodlights.
    An announcerÆs voice came with the picture: ôùthis ship, the mightiest ever built, will soon plunge into outer space. Its flight was unannounced until tonight, its destination has not been revealed. Is thisùö
    The broadcast was interrupted by Herb Styles. ôMr. Barnes! Boss!ö

Barnes leaned out and looked at Traub in the couch beneath. ôAre you hooked in?ö
    "Just a secùgo ahead.ö
    ôWhat is it, Herb?ö
    ôSomebody tearing down the road, heading this way.ö
    ôWho?ö -
    ôDonÆt know. We canÆt contact the north road block.ö
    ôCall the pass gate. Head æem off.ö
    ôItÆs no longer manned. Heyùwait. North road block coming in.ö After a pause, Styles yelled, ôTruck loaded with menùthey crushed through and ran over a deputy!ö
    ôKeep your shirt on,ö cautioned Barnes. ôThey canÆt reach us. If they hang around down below, itÆs their misfortune. IÆm blasting on time.ö
    Bowles sat up. ôDonÆt be too sure, Jim.Æ~
    ôEh? What can they do to us now?ö
    ôWhat would six sticks of dynamite against one of the tail jacks do to this ship? LetÆs take offùnow!ö
    ôBefore calculated time? Red, donÆt be silly.ö
    ôBlast off and correct later!ö
    ôDoeùcould we do that?ö
    ôEh? No!ö
    Barnes stared at the TV picture. ôMannieùtell blockhouse to sound sirens!ö
    ôJim,ö protested Corley, ôyou canÆt take off now!ö
    ôAre you still set up to test? Half g?ö
    ôYes, butùö
    ôStand by!ö His eyes were fixed on the pictured scene outside; headlights came around the foundry, sped toward the pen. The moaning of sirens drowned out Corieyas answer.
    The truck was almost at the gate. BarnesÆ forefinger stabbed the firing button.
    A whine of great pumps was blanked out by a roar they could feel in their bones. The Luna shivered.
    In the TV screen a flower of white light burst from the tail of the ship, billowed up, blanketing the headlights, the buildings, the lower half of the ship.
    Barnes jerked his finger back. The noise died out; the cloud changed from incandescent to opaque. In the silence StylesÆ voice came over the speaker. ôGreatù Dayùin the Morning!ö
    ôHerbùcan you hear me?ö
    ôYes. What happened?ö
    ôUse the bull horn to warn them off. Tell æem to scram; if they come closer IÆll fry them.ö
    ôI think you have.ö
    ôGet busy.ö He watched the screen, his finger raised. The cloud lifted; he made out the truck.
    ôNine minutes,ö Bowles announced, calmly.
    Through the speaker Barnes could hear a voice on the bull horn, warning the attacking party back. A man
jumped down from the truck, was followed by others.
    BarnesÆ finger trembled.
    They turned and ran.
    Barnes sighed. ôDoc, did the test suit you?ö
    ôA mushy cutoff,ö Corley complained. ôIt should have been sharp.ö
     ôDo we blast, or donÆt we?ö
    Corley hesitated. ôWell?ö demanded Barnes.
    ôWe blast.ö
    Traub heaved a mournful sigh. Barnes snapped, ôPower plantùshift to automatic! All handsùprepare for acceleration. Mannie, tell blockhouse, Muroc, and White Sands to stand by for count off at oh three five two.ö
    ôOh three five two,ö Traub repeated, then went on, ôShip~ calling blockhouse, Muroc, White Sands.ö
    ôPower plant, report.ö
    ôAutomatic, all green.ö
    ôCo-pilot?ö
    ôTracking on autopilot.ö Bowles added, ôEight minutes.ö
    ôDoc, is she hot as sheÆll take?ö
    ôIÆm carrying the fission rate as high as I dare,ö Corley answered, strain in his voice. ôSheÆs on the ragged edge.ö
    ôKeep her so. All hands, strap down.ö
    Corley reared up. ôJimùI forgot to pass out the drop-sick pills.ö
    ôStay where you are! If we get seasick, we get seasick.ö
    ôOne minute, coming up!ö BowlesÆ voice was harsh.
    ôTake it, æMannie!ö
    ôBlockhouseùMurocùWhite Sands. Ready for count off!ö Traub paused; the room was still.
    ôSixty! Fifty-nineùfifty-eightùfifty-sevenùö
    Barnes gripped his arm rests, tried to slow down his heart. He watched the- seconds click off as Traub counted them. ôThirty-nine! Thirty-eight! Thirty-seven!ö TraubÆs voice was shrill. ôThirty-one! Ha/flö
    Barnes could hear sirens, rising and falling, out on the field. Above him in the TV screen, the Luna stood straight and proud, her head in darkness.
    ôEleven"
    ôAnd ten"
    ôAnd nine!"
    ôAnd eight!öùBarnes licked his lips and swallowed.
    ôFiveùfourùthree - twoù
    ôFire!ö
    The word was lost in sound, a roar that made the test blast seem as nothing. The Luna shruggedùand climbed for the sky.

V

If we are to understand those men, we must reorient. Crossing the Atlantic was high adventureùwhen Columbus did it. So with the early spacemen. The ships they rode in were incredibly makeshift.
    They did not know what they were doing. Had they known, they would not have gone.
Farquharson, Ibid., III: 415

Barnes felt himself shoved back into the cushions. He gagged and fought to keep from swallowing his tongue. He felt paralyzed by body weightÆof more than haifa ton; he strained to lift his chest. Worse than weight was noise, a mind-killing ôwhiteö sound from unbearable ultrasonics down to bass too low to be heard.
    The sound Dopplered down the scale, rumbled off and left them. At five effective gravities they outraced their own din in six seconds, leaving an aching quiet broken only by noise of water coursing through pumps.
    For a moment Barnes savored the silence. Then hi~ eyes caught the TV screen above him; in it was a, shrinking dot of fire. He realized that he was seeing himself, disappearing into the sky, and regretted that he had not watched the blast-away. ôMannie,ö he labored, to say, ôswitch on æView After.ö
    ôI canÆt,ö Traub groaned thickly. ôI canÆt move a muscle.ö
    ôDo it!ö
    Traub managed it; the screen blurred, then formed a picture. Bowies grunted, ôGreat CaesarÆs ghost!ö Barnes stared. They were high above Los Angeles; the metropolitan area was map sharp, picked out in street lights and neon. It was shrinking visibly.
    Rosy light flashed through the eastern port, followed at once by dazzling sunlight. Traub yelped, ôWhat happened?ö -
    Barnes himself had been startled but he strove to control his voice and answered, ôSunrise. WeÆre up that high.ö He went on, ôDocùhowÆs the power plant?ö
    ôReadings normal,ö Corley replied in tongue-clogged tones. ôHow long- to go?ö
    Barnes looked at his board. ôMore than three minutes.ö
    Corley did not answer, three minutes seemed too long to bear. Presently Traub said, ôLook at the sky!ö Corley forced his head over and looked. Despite harsh sunlight the sky was black and spangled with stars.
    At three minutes and fifty seconds the jets cut off. Like the first time, the cutoff was mushy, slow. The terrible weight left them gradually. But it left them completely. Rocket and crew were all in a free orbit ôfallingö upward toward the Moon. Relative to each other and to ship they had no weight.

Barnes felt that retching, frightening ôfalling elevatorö feeling characteristic of no weight, but, expecting it, he steeled himself. ôPower, plant,ö he snapped, ôreport!ö
    ôPower plant okay,ö Corley replied weakly. ôNotice the cutoff?ö
    ôLater,ö decided Barnes. ôCo-pilot, my track seems high.ö
    ôMy display tracks on,ö wheezed Bowles, ôùor a hair high.ö
    ôMannie!ö
    No answer. Barnes repeated, ôMannie? Answer, manùare you all right?ö
    TraubÆs voice was weak. ôI think IÆm dying. This thing is fallingùoh, God, make it stop!ö
    ôSnap out of it!ö
    ôAre we going to crash?ö
    ôNo, no! WeÆre all right.ö
    ôAll right,Æ the man says,Æ~ Traub muttered, then added, ôI donÆt care if we do.ö
    Barnes called out, ôDoc, get those pills. Mannie needs one bad.ö He stopped to control a retch. ôI could use one myself.ö
    ôMe, too,ö agreed Bowles. ôI havenÆt been this seasick since I wasùö He caught himself, then went on. ôùsince I was a midshipman.ö
    Coriey loosened his straps and pulled himself out from his couch. Weightless, he floated free and turned slowly over, like a diver in slow motion. Traub turned his face away and groaned. -
    ôStop it, Mannie,ö ordered Barnes. ôTry to raise White Sands. I want a series of time-altitude readings.ö
    ôI canÆtùIÆm sick.ö
    ôDo it!ö
    Corley floated near a stanchion, grabbed it, and pulled himself to a cupboard. He located the pill bottle and hastily gulped a pill. He then moved to TraubÆs couch, pulling himself along. ôHere, Traubùtake this. YouÆll feel better.ö
    ôWhat is it?ö
    ôSome stuff called Dramamine. ItÆs for seasickness.ö
    Traub put a pill in his mouth. ôI canÆt swallow.ö -
    ôBetter try.ö Traub got it down, clamped his jaw to keep it down. Corley pulled himself to Barnes. ôNeed one, Jim?ö
    Barnes started to answer, turned his head away, and threw up in his handkerchief. Tears streaming from his eyes, he accepted the pill. Bowles called out, ôDocù hurry up!ö His voice cut off; presently he added, ôToo late.ö
    ôSorry.ö Corley moved over to Bowles. ôCriminy, youÆre a mess!ö - -
    ôGimme that pill and no comments.ö
    Traub was saying in a steadier voice, ôSpaceship Luna, calling White Sands. Come in White Sands.ö
    At last an answer came back, ôWhite Sands to Spaceshipùgo ahead.ö
    ôGive us a series of radar checks, time, distance, and bearing.ö
    A new voice cut in, ôWhite Sands to Spaceshipùwe have been tracking you, but the figures are not reasonable. What is your destination?ö
    Traub glanced at Barnes, then answered, ôLuna, to White Sandsùdestination: Moon.ö
    ôRepeat? Repeat?ö
    ôOur destination is the Moon!ö.
    There was a silence. The same voice replied, ôDestination: MoonÆù Good luck, Spaceship .Luna!ö

Bowles spoke up suddenly. ôHey! Come look!ö He had unstrapped and was floating by the sunward port.
    ôLater,ö Barnes answered. ôI need this tracking report first.ö
    ôWell, come look until they call back. This is once in a lifetime.ö -
    Corley joined Bowles. Barnes hesitated; he wanted very badly to see, but he was ashamed to leave Traub working. ôWait,ö he called out. ôIÆll turn ship and we can all see.ö
    Mounted at the centerline of the ship was a flywheel. Barnes studied his orientation readings, then clutched the ship to the flywheel. Slowly the ship turned, without affecting its motion along its course. ôHowÆs that?ö
ôWrong way!ö    -
    ôSorry.ö Barnes tried again; the stars marched past in the opposite direction; Earth swung into view. He caught sight of it and almost forgot to check the swing.
    Power had cut off a trifle more than eight hundred miles up. The Luna had gone free at seven miles per second; in the last few minutes they had been steadily
coasting upwards and were now three thousand miles above Southern California. Belowùopposite them, from their viewpointùwas darkness. The seaboard cities stretched across the port likeChristmas lights. East of them, sunrise cut across the Grand Canyon and shone on Lake Mead. Further east the prairies were in daylight, dun and green æbroken by blinding cloud. The plains dropped away into curved skyline.
    So fast were they rising that the picture was moving, shrinking, and the globe drew into itself as a ball. Barnes watched from across the compartment. ôCan you see all right, Mannie?ö he asked. -
ôYeah,ö, answered Traub. ôYeah,ö he repeated softly~ ôSay, thatÆs real, isnÆt it?ö
    Barnes said, ôHey, Red, Docùheads down. YouÆre not transparent.ö
    Traub looked at Barnes. ôGo ahead, skipper.ö
ôNo, IÆll stick with you.ö    -
    ôDonÆt be a chump. IÆll look later.ö
    ôWellùö Barnes grinned suddenly. ôThanks, Mannie.ö He gave a shove and moved across to the port.
    Mannie continued to stare. Later the radio claimed his attention. ôWhite Sands, calling Spaceshipùready with radar report.ö
    The first reports, plus a further series continued as long as White Sands and Muroc were able to track them, confirmed BarnesÆ suspicion. They were tracking ôhigh,ö ahead of their predicted positions and at speeds greater than those called for by HastingsÆ finicky calculations. The difference was small; on the autopilot displays it was hardly the thickness of a line between the calculated path and the true path.
    But the difference would increase.
    ôEscape speedsö for rockets are very critical Hastings had calculated the classical hundred-hour orbit and the Luna had been aimedjo reach the place where the Moon would be four days later. But initial speed is critical. A difference of less than one percent in ship speed at cutoff
can halveùor doubleùthe transit time from Earth to Moon. The Luna was running - very slightly ahead of scheduleùbut when it reached the orbit of the Moon, the Moon would not be there.
    Doctor Corley tugged at his thinning hair. ôSure, the cutoff was mushy, but I-was expecting it and I noted the mass readings. ItÆs not enough to account for the boost. Hereùtake a look.ö -
    Corley was hunched at the log desk, a little shelf built wto the space between the acceleration bunks. He was strapped to a stool fixed to the deck in front of it. Barnes floated at his shoulder; he took the calculation and scanned it. ôI donÆt follow you,ö Barnes said presently; ôyour expended mass is considerably higher than Hastings calculated.ö
    ôYouÆre looking at the wrong figure,ö Corley pointed out. ôYou forgot the mass of water you used up in that -test. Subtract that from the total mass expended to get the effective figure for blast offùthis figure here. Then you apply thatùö Corley hesitated, his expression changed from annoyance to dismay. ôOh, my God!ö
- - - ôHuh? What is it, Doc? Found the mistake?ö
    ôOh, how could I be so stupid!ö Corley started frenzied figuring.
    ôWhat have you found?ö Corley did not answer; Barnes grabbed his arm. ôWhatÆs up?ö
ôHuh? DonÆt bother me.ö    -
    ôIÆll bother you with a baseball bat. What have you found?ö -
    ôEh? Look, Jim, whatÆs the final speed -of a rocket, ideal case?ö
    ôWhat is this? A quiz show? Jet speed times the logarithm of the mass ratio. Pay me.ö
    ôAnd you changed the mass ratio! No wonder weÆre running æhigh.ö -
    ôMe?ö
    ôWe both didùmy fault as much as yours. Listen; you spilled a mass of water in scaring off that truckload of
thugsùbut HastingsÆ figures were based on us lifting that particular mass all the way to the Moon. The ship should have grossed almost exactly two hundred fifty tons at takeoff; she was shy what you had usedùso weÆre going too fast.ö -
    ôHuh? I wasted reaction mass, so weÆre going too fast? That doesnÆt make sense.ö Barnes hooked a foot into the legs of the stool to anchor himself, and did a rough run-through of the problem with slide rule and logarithm table. ôWell, boil me in a bucket!ö He added humbly, ôDoc, I shouldnÆt have asked to be skipper. idonÆt know enough.ö
    CorleyÆs worried features softened. ôDonÆt feel that way, Jim. Nobody knows enoughùyet. God knows IÆve put in enough time on theory, but I went ahead and urged you to make the blunder.ö
    ôDoe, how important is this? The error is less than one percent. IÆd guess that we would reach the Moon about an hour early.ö
    ôAnd roughly youÆd be wrong. Initial speed is critical, Jim; you know that!ö
    ôHow critical? When do we reach the Moon?ö

Corley looked glumly at the pitiful tools he had with himùa twenty-inch log-log slide rule, seven place tables, a Nautical Almanac, and an office-type calculator which bore the relation to a ôgiant brainö that a firecracker does to an A-bomb. ôI donÆt know. IÆll have to put it up to Hastings.ö He threw his pencil at the desk top; it bounced off and floated away. ôThe question is: do we get there atÆall?ö
    ôOh, it canÆt be that bad!ö
    ôIt is that bad.ö
    From across the compartment Bowles called out, ôCome and get itùor I throw it to the pigs!ö -
    But food had to wait while Corley composed a message to Hastings. It was starkly simple: OFF TRAJECTORY. USE DATA WHITE SANDS MUROC AND
COMPUTE CORRECTION VECTOR. PLEASE USE
UTMOST HASTEùCORLEY.
    After sending it Traub announced that he wasnÆt
- hungry and didnÆt guess he would eat.
    Bowles left the ôgalleyö (one lonely hot plate) and moved to TraubÆs couch. Traub had strapped himself into it to have stability while he handled his radio controls. ôSnap out of it, man,ö Bowles advised. ôMust eat, you know.ö - -
    Traub looked gray. ôThanks, Admiral, but I couldnÆt.ö
    ôSo you donÆt like my cooking? By the way, my friends call me æRed.Æö
    ôThanks, uhùRed. No, IÆm just not hungry.ö
    Bowles brought his head closer and spoke in low tones. ôDonÆt let it get you, Mannie. IÆve been in worse jams and come out alive. Quit worrying.ö -
    ôIÆm not worrying.ö
    BOwles chuckled. ôDonÆt be ashamed of it, son. We all get upset, first time under fire. Come eat.ö
    ôI canÆt eat. And IÆve been under fire.ö
    ôReally?ö -
    ôYes, really! IÆve got two Purple Hearts to prove it. Admiral, leave me alone, please. My stomach is awful
- uneasy.ö    - -
    Bowles said, ôI beg your pardon, Mannie.ö He added, ôMaybe you need another seasick pilLö
    ôCould be.ö -
    ôIÆll fetch one.ö Bowles did so, then returned again shortly with a transparent sack filled with milkùto be exact,Æ a flexible plastic nursing cell, complete with nipple. ôSweet milk, Mannie. Maybe itÆll comfort your stomach.ö
    Traub looked at it curiously. ôWith this should go a diaper and a rattle,ö he announced. ôThanks, uhù Red.ö
    ôNot at all, Mannie. If that stays down, IÆll fix you a sandwich.ö He turned in the air and rejoined the others.
VI

The Luna plunged on; Earth dropped away; radio signals grew weakerùand still no word from Hastings. Corley spent the time trying endlessly and tediously to anticipate the answer he expected from Hastings, using the tools be had. Traub stood guard at the radio. Barnes and Bowles spent a lengthy time staring out the portsùback at the shrinking, cloud-striped Earth, forward at the growing gibbous MoonÆand brilliant steady starsùuntil Bowles fell asleep in mid-sentence, a softly snoring free balloon.
    Barnes nudged him gently toward his couch and there strapped him loosely, to keep him from cluttering up the cramped cabin. He eyed æhis own couch longingly, then turned to Traub instead.
    ôOut of there, Mannie,ö he ordered. ôIÆll relieve you while you catch some shut-eye.ö
    ôMe? Oh, thatÆs all right, Skipper. You get some sleep yourself and IÆll take a rain check.ö
    Barnes hesitated. ôSure you donÆt want to be relieved?ö
    ôNot a bit. I feelùö He broke off and added, ôJust aminute,ö and turned to his controls. He was on earphones now, rather than speaker. He settled them in place and said sharply, ôGo ahead, Earth.ö -
    Presently Traub turned to Barnes: ôChicago Tribuneù they want an exclusive story from you.ö
    ôNo, IÆm going to sleep.ö
    Traub reported BarnesÆ answer, then turned baCk. ôHow about the Admiral or Doctor Corley?ö
    ôThe co-pilot is asleep and Doctor Corley is not to be disturbed.ö
    ôMr. Barnes?ö TraubÆs manner was diffident. ôDo you mind if they get one from merÆ
    Barnes chuckled. ôNot at all. But stick them plenty.ö As Barnes closed his eyes he could hear Traub dickering with some faceless negotiator. He wondered if Traub
would ever get to spend the fee? What was a man like Traub doing up here anyhow, in a ship headed nowhere inahellofahurry? - -
    For that matter, why was Jim Barnes here?
- After his - interview, Traub continued guarding the radio. Signals grew fainter and presently reduced to garble. The room was quiet, save for the soft murmur of the air replenisher. - - -

After a long time the radio came suddenly to lifeùNAA, Washington, Traub soon learned, had rigged a reflector to beam directly at them. ôCan you take code groups?ö he was asked.
- He assured them that he could. ôDespatch for Rear Admiral Bowles,ö NAA rapped back at him. ôZero zero zero one: code groups followùlove, uncle, king, easy, rogerùboy, able, dog, item, peterùö The groups continued for a longtime. -
ôDoctor Corley!ö    -
    Corley looked around vaguely, as if awakening in a strange place. ôEh? Yes, Mannie? IÆm busy.ö
ôDoctor Hastings calling.ö    -
    ôOh, fine,ö Corley acknowledged. ôSlide out of there and let me take it.ö
    They changed places with effort, bothered by weightlessness. Traub felt a touch on his arm. ôWhat is it, Mannie?ö -
    He turned; Barnes and Bowles had waked -up and loosed themselves. ôHowdy, Skipper. ItÆs Doctor Hastings.ö
    ôGood!ö
    ôUh, Admiralùgot something for you.ö Traub hauled out the code dispatch.
    Bowles stared at it. Barnes remarked, ôRace results?ö - - -
    Bowles did not answer. He shoved himself toward the forward bulkhead, as far away as possible. He then took a thin book from an inner pocket, and started studying the
message with the aid of the book. Barnes looked surprised but said nothing.
    HastingsÆ report was short but not sweet. They would reach the MoonÆs orbit where æplanned, but more than fifty hours too soonùand would miss the Moon by more than 90,000 miles!
    Barnes whistled. ôHot pilot Barnes, they call me.ö
    Corley said, ôItÆs no joke.ö
    ôI wasnÆt laughing, Doe,ö Barnes answered, ôbut there is no use crying. It will be tragic soon enough.ö -
    Traub broke in. ôHeyùwhat do you mean?ö
    ôHe means,ö Bowles said bluntly, ôthat we are headed out and arenÆt coming back.ö
    ôOn out? And outùout into outer space? Where the stars are?ö
    ôThatÆs about it.ö    - ôNot that,ö Corley interrupted, ôIÆd estimate that we would reach our farthest point somewhere around the orbit of Mars.ö
    Traub sighed. ôSo itÆs Mars, now? ThatÆs not so bad, is it? I mean- they say people live on Mars, donÆt they? All those canals and things? We can get another load of
water and come back.ö    -
    ôDonÆt kid yourself, Mannie,ö Bowles said. ôJust be glad youÆre a bachelor.ö
    ôA bachelor? Who said I was?ö
    ôArenÆt you?ö
    ôMe? IÆm a very domestic type guy. Four kidsùand married -fourteen years.ö
    Corley looked stricken. ôMannie, I didnÆt know.ö ôWhatÆs that got to do with it? Insurance IÆve got, with a rocket experimentation rider. I knew this was no
picnic.ö    -
    Barnes said, ôMannie, if! had known, I wouldnÆt have asked you to go. IÆm sorry.ö He turnedÆto Corley, ôWhen do we run out of waterùand air?ö
    Corley raised his voice. ôPlease! Everybody! I -didnÆt say we werenÆt going to get back. I saidùö -
    ôBut youùö
    ôShut up, Red! I said this orbit is no good. WeÆve got to vector west, toward the Moon. And weÆve got to do it atùö He glanced at a clock. ôGood grief! Seven minutes from now.ö
    Barnes jerked his head ar~ind. ôAcceleration stations, everybody! Stand by to maneuver!ö

VII

The most treacherous maneuver known to space flight is a jet landing on an airless planet. Even today, it commands the highest pay, the most skilled pilotsù Farquharson, Ibid., III: 418

For forty hours they fell toward the Moon. The maneuver had worked; one could see, even with naked eye, that they were closing with the Moon. The four took turns at the radio, ate and slept and talked and stared out at the glittering sky. Bciwles and Traub discovered a common passion for chess and played off the ôFirst Annual Interplanetary Championshipöùso dubbed by the Admiral
ùusing pencil marks on paper. Traub won, four out of seven.
    Some two hundred thousand miles out the Luna slid past the,null point between Earth and Moon, and began to shape her final orbit. It became evident that the correction vector had somewhat overcompensated and that they were swinging toward the MoonÆs western limbùöwesternö as seen from Earth: the LunaÆs orbit would intersect her namesake somewhere on the neveryet-seen far sideùor it was possible that the ship would skim the far side at high speed, come around sharply and head back toward Earth.
    Two principal styles of landing were possibleùType A, in which a ship heads in vertically, braking on her jets
to a landing in one maneuver, and Type B, in which a ship is first slowed to a circular orbit, then stopped dead, then backed to a landing when she drops from the point of rest. -
    ôType A, JimùitÆs simplest.ö
    Barnes shook his head. ôNo, Doc. Simple on paper only. Too risky.ö If they corrected course to head straight in (Type A), their speed at instant of braking would be a mile and a half a second and an error of one second would land them 8000 feet aboveùor below!ùthe surface. -
    Barnes went on, ôHow about a modified æAÆ?ö Modified Type A called for intentionally blasting too soon, then cutting the jets when the radar track showed that the ship hovered, allowing it to fall from rest, then blasting again as necessary, perhaps two or three times.
    ôConfound it, Jim, a modified æAÆ is so damned wasteful.ö -
    ôIÆd like to get us down without wrecking us.ö
    ôAnd I would like us to get home, too. This ship wasÆ figured for a total change of twelve and a half miles per second. Our margin is paper thin.ö
    ôJust the same, IÆd like to set the autopilot to kick her a couple of seconds early.ö - -
    ôWe canÆt afford it and thatÆs that.ö
    ôLand her yourself, then. IÆm not Superman.ö
    ôNow, Jimùö
    ôSorry.ö Barnes looked at the calculations. ôBut why Type A? Why not Type B?ö
    ôBut Jim, Type B is probably ruled out. It calls for decelerating at point of closest approach and, as things stand now, æclosest approachÆ may be contact.ö
    ôCrash, you mean. But donÆt be so damned conventional; you can vector into a circular orbit from any position.ö
    ôBut that wastes reaction -mass, too.ö
    ôCrashing from a sloppy Type A wastes more than
reaction mass,ö Barnes retorted. ôGet to work on a æBÆ; I wonÆt risk an æA.ö -
    Corley looked stubborn. Barnes went on, ôThereÆs a bonus with Type B, Doeùtwo bonuses.ö
    ôDonÆt be silly. Done perfectly, it takes as much reaction mass as Type A; done sloppily, it takes more.ö
    ôI wonÆt be sloppy. HereÆs your bonus: Type A lands us on this face, but Type B lets us swing around the Moon and photograph the back side before we land. How does that appeal to your scientific soul?ö

Corley looked tempted. ôI thought about that, but weÆve got too little margin. It takes a mile and a half of motion to get down to the Moon, the same to get upùthree miles. For the trip back I have to save enough mass to slow from seven miles a second to five before we dip into the atmosphere. We used up seven to blast offùit all adds up to twelve. Look at the figures; whatÆs left?ö
    Barnes did so and shrugged. ôLooks like a slightly fat zero.ö
    ôA few seconds of margin at most You could waste it on the transitions in a Type B landing.ö
    ôNow the second bonus, Doe,ö Barnes said slowly. ôThe Type B gives you a chance to change your mind after you get into a circular orbit; the straight-in job commits you beyond any help.ö
    Corley looked shocked. ôJim, you mean go back to Earth without landing?ö
    Barnes lowered his voice. ôWait, Doc. IÆd land on the Moon if I had enough in tanks to get downùand not worry about getting up again. IÆm a bachelor. But thereÆs Mannie Traub. No getting around it; we stampeded him. Now it turns out he has a slew of kids, waiting for poppa to come borne. It makes a difference.ö
    Corley pulled at his scalp lock. ôHe should have told us.ö
    ôIf he had, we wouldnÆt have taken off.ö
    ôConfound it, things would have been all right if I hadnÆt suggested that you test the engine.ö
    ôNonsense! If I hadnÆt scared those babies off with a blast, they probably would have wrecked the ship.ö
    ôYou canÆt be sure.ö
    ôA man canÆt be sure of anything. How about Traub?ö
    ôYouÆre rightùI, suppose. Okay, we leave it up to
Traub.ö --    -    -    -
    From the other end of the compartment Traub looked around from his chess game with Bowles.
    ôSomebody call me?ö
    ôYes,ö Barnes agreed. ôBoth of you. WeÆve got things to decide.ö

Barnes outlined the situation. ôNow,ö he said, ôDoe and I agree that, after we get into a circular orbit and have had time to add up whatÆs left, Mannie should decide whether we land, or just swing around and blast for home.ö
    Bowles looked amazed, but said nothing.
    Traub looked flustered. ôMe? It ainÆt my business to decide. IÆm the electronics department.ö
    ôBecause,ö Barnes stated, ôyouÆre the only one with kids.ö
    ôYes, butù Look hereùis there really a chance that, if we landed, we wouldnÆt be able to get back?ö
    ôPossible,ö Barnes answered and Corley nodded.
    ôBut donÆt you know?ö -
    ôLook, Mannie,ö Barnes countered, ôweÆve got water in the tanks to land, take off, and return to Earthùbut none for mistakes.ö -
    ôYes, but you wonÆt make any mistakes, will you?ö
    ôI canÆt promise. IÆve already made one and itÆs brought us -to this situation.ö -

TraubÆs features worked in agonized indecision. ôBut itÆs not my business to decide!ö
    Bowles spoke up suddenly. ôYouÆre right; itÆs not!ö He went on, ôGentlemen, I didnÆt intend to speak, because it never crossed my mind that we might not land. But now the situation demands it. As you know, I received a coded message.
    ôThe gist was this; our trip has caused grave international repercussions. The Security Council has been in æconstant session, with the U.S.S.R. demanding that the Moon be declared joint property of the United Nationsùö
    ôAs it should be,ö Corley interrupted.
    ôYou donÆt see the point, Doctor. Their only purpose is to forestall us claiming the Moonùwe, who actually are making the trip. To forestall us, you understand, so æthat the United States will not be able to found a base on the Moon without permissionùpermission that is certain~to be vetoed.ö
    ôBut,ö pointed out Corley, ôit works both ways. We would veto Russia establishing a base on the Moon.
Admiral, IÆve worked with you because it was a way to get on with my lifeÆs ambition, but, to be frank, using the Moon as a rocket launching baseùby anybodyùsticks in my craw.ö - -
    B⌠wles turned red. ôDoctor, this is not an attempt to insure the neutrality of the Moon; this is the same double-talk they used to stop world control of atomics. The commissars simply want to tie us up in legalisms until they have time to get to the Moon. WeÆll wake up one morning to find Russia with a base on the Moon and us with noneùand World War Three will be over before it starts.ö -
    ôButùAdmiral, you canÆt know that.ö
    Bowles turned to Barnes. ôTell him, Jim.ö
    Barnes gestured impatiently. ôCome out of your ivory tower, Doe. Space travel is here nowùwe did it. There is bound to be a rocket base on the Moon. Sure, it ought to be a United Nations base, keeping the peace of the
world. But the, United Nations has been helpless from scratch. The first base is going to belong to usùor to Russia. Which one-do you trust not to misuse the power? Usùor the Politburo?ö - ù -
    Corley covered his eyes, then looked at Bowles. ôAll right,ö he said dully. ôIt has to beùbut I donÆt like it.ö
    Traub broke the ensuing silence with ôUh,. I donÆt see how this ties in with whether we land or not?ö
    Bowles turned to him. ôBecause of this: the rest of that message restored me to active duty and directed me tO claim the Moon in the name of the United Statesùas quickly as possible. We would have what the diplomats call a fait accompli. But to claim the Moon I have to
land!ö    -
    Traub stared. ôOh. I see.ö    Bowles went on in a gentle voice, ôMannie, this goes beyond you and me, or even your kids. The surest way to make sure that your kids grow up in a peaceful, free world is to risk your neck right now. So weÆve got to land.ö
    Traub hesitated; Bowles went on, ôYou- see that, donÆt you? ItÆs for your kidsùand millions of other kids.ö
    Barnes interrupted him. ôRedùquit working on him!ö -
    ôEh?ö ôHeÆll make a free choiceùafter weÆve leveled off and looked the situation over.ö - - -
    ôBut, Jim, I thought we saw eye to eye. You told Docùö
    ôPipe down! YouÆve stated your case, now quit trying to work him up into being a martyr.ö
    Bowles turned bright red. ôI must inform you, sir, that besides being returned to active duty I was given authority to commandeer this ship.ö -
    Barnes locked eyes with him. ôYou can take -your authority andùdo whatever -you think proper with it. IÆm skipper and will stay so as long as IÆm alive.ö He
looked around. ôAll handsùget ready for approach. Doe, go ahead with trial calculations, Type B. Mannie, warm up the pilot radar. Bowles!ö
    - -Finally Bowles answered, ôYes, sir.ö -
    ôRig the autocamera in the starboard port. WeÆll take a continuous strip as we pass around the far side.ö
    ôAye aye, sir.ö

Traub leaned from his couch and peered out the starboard port. ôItÆs just like the other side.ö
    Barnes answered, ôWhat did you expect? -Skyscrapers? Co-pilot, how do -you track?ö -
    ôSpeed over groundùone point three seven. Altitude, fifty-one point two, closing slowly.ö
    ôCheck. I project closest approach at not less than twenty-oneùno contact. What do you get?ö -
    ôCloser to twenty, but no contact.ö
    ôCheck. Take over orientation. IÆll blast when altitude changes from steady -to opening.ö
ôAye aye, sir!ö    - - -
    The Luna was swinging around the unknown far face of the Moon, but her crew was too busy to see much of the -craggy, devil-torn landscape. She was nearing her closest approach, travelling almost horizontally. She was pointed tail first, ready to blast back from ,a top speed of a mile and a half a second to a circular orbit speed of a mile a second. At BarnesÆ order Bowles gave his attention to placing her axis precisely horizontal.
    The television screen read ôView Aftö; in- its center was a cross mark lying over a picture of the mountainous horizon they were approaching. He jockeyed the ship against the reaction of the flywheel, then steadied her by gyros when one cross line held steady on the horizon~
    Barnes set his controls on semiautomatic, ready both to fire and cut off with one punch of the firing button. Into his autopilot he fed the speed change he wished to achieve. Altitude dropped to forty miles, to thirty, to less
than twenty-five. ôPower plant,ö. Barnes called out, ôstand by for blasting!ö
    ôReady, Jim,ö Corley reported quietly.
    ôElectronics?ö
    ôEverything sweet, Skipper.ö
    Barnes watched ground speed with one eye, the radar altimeter with the other. . . twenty-three, it said... twenty-two. . . twenty-one and a half.
    Twenty-one point five., . twenty-one - point fourù point four againùand again. Point five! and crawling up. His finger stabbed at the firing button.
    The blast was fourteen seconds only, then it cut off, but in the same mushy fashion which it had before. Barnes shook hisÆ head to clear it and looked at his board. Altitude twenty-one point five; ground speed, one plus a frogÆs whiskerùthey were in orbit as planned. He sighed happily. ôThatÆs all for now, troops. Leave everything hot but you can get out of your hammocks.ö
    Bowles said, ôHadnÆt I better stay and watch the board?ö
    ôSuit yourselfùbut they wonÆt repeal the law of gravitation. Doe, letÆs see how much juice we have left.ö He glanced at a clock. ôWeÆve got an hour to make a decision. It will be almost half an hour before Earth is in sight again.ö
    ôI donÆt like the way she cuts off,ö Corley complained. ôQuit fretting. 1 used to have a car that sounded its horn every time I made a left turn.ö

Bowles got a container of coffee, then joined Traub at the starboard port. They peered around the automatic camera and watched the moonscape slide past. ôRugged
terrain,ö Bowles remarked.    -
    Traub agreed. ôThereÆs. better stuff going to waste in California.ö
    They continued to stare out. Presently Bowles turned in the air and slithered back to his acceleration couch.
    ôTraub!ö
-    Mannie came to the desk. ôMannie,ö Barnes said, pointing at a lunar map, ôwe figure to land spang in the middle of the Earthside faceùthat dark spot, Sinus Medii. ItÆs a plain.ö
    ôYou figure to land, then?ö
    ôItÆs up to you, Mannie. But youÆll have to make up your mind. WeÆll be there in aboutùuh, forty minutes.ö
     Traub looked troubled. ôLook,    chief, you
    shouldnÆtùö      -
    He was interrupted by BowlesÆ voice. ôCaptain! We are closing, slowly.ö
ôAre you sure?ö
    ôQuite sure. Altitude nineteen point threeùcorrection: point two. . . closing.ö
ôAcceleration stations!ö
    Barnes was diving toward his couch as he shouted.
    Traub and Corley followed him. As he strapped down
    Barnes called out, ôCo-pilotùget a contact prediction.
    All hands, stand by for maneuvers.ö He studied his own board. He could not doubt it; they were in something less
    than a perfect circle.
    He was trying to make a prediction from his display when Bowles reported, ôI make it contact in nine minutes, Captain, plus or minus a minute.ö
    Barnes concentrated. The radar track was jiggling as much as five or ten percent, because of mountains below them; the prediction line was a broad band. As near as he could tell, Bowles was right.
    ôWhat now, Captain?ö Bowles went on. ôShall I swing her to blast forward?ö A slight nudge would speed up the ship, in effect, lift her, permit her to fall - around the Moon rather than- curve down.
    It would also waste reaction mass.
    Nine minutes. . . nine hundred miles, about. He tried to figure how many minutes it would be until they raised Earth over the horizon, ahead. -
    Seven - minutes, possiblyùand Earth would be in
sight. A landing at Sinus Medli was impossible but they still might land in sight of Earth without using more precious water to correct their orbit. ôMannie,ö he. snapped, ôwe land in seven minntesùor we never land. Make up your mind.1ö
    Traub did not answer.
    Barnes waited, while a minute coursed by. Finally he -said in a weary voice, ôCo-pilotùswing to blast forward. All hands, prepare for departure.ö
    Traub suddenly spoke up. ôThatÆs what we came for, wasnÆt it? To land on the Moon? Well, letÆs land the damn thing!ö
    Barnes caught his breath. ôGood boy! Co-pilot, cancel that last. Steady ship for deceleration. Sing out when you see Earth.ö
    ôAye aye, sir!ö            -
    ôThereÆs Earth!ö    - - - -
    Barnes glanced up, saw, Terra pictured in the TV screen, rising behind a wall of mountains. B≤wles went
on, ôBetter land, Jim. YouÆll never get over those moun- tains.ö
    Barnes did not argue; their altitude was barely three miles now. He shouted, ôStand by. Red, start swinging as soon as I cut off.ö -
ôRight!ö -    -
-- ôFire!ö He stabbed the button. This maneuver was manual, intended only to stop their forward motion. He watched -his ground-speed radar while the -ship shiveredùnine-tenths . . . seven . . . -five . . . four.;. three.. . two. . one . . . six-hundredths. He jerked his finger off just before it dropped to zero and prayed that a mushy cutoff would equal his anticipation
    He started to shout to Bowles, but the ship was already swinging. - - - - -
    Earth and the horizon swung up in the TV screen and out of sight. -

For a crawling ten seconds, while they fell straight down,
the Luna crept into position for a tail-first landing. They were less than three miles up- now. Barnes shifted scale from miles to feet and started his prediction.

Bowles beat him to an answer. ôContact in seventy-two seconds, Skipper.ö
Barnes relaxed. ôSee the advantage of a Type æBÆ landing, Doe,ö he remarked cheerfully. ôNo hurryùjust like an elevator.ö -
    ôQuit gabbing and get us down,ö Corley answered taut1y~ - -
    ôRight,ö Barnes agreed. ôCo-pilot, predict the blast altitude.ö -His own hands were busy to the same end.
    Bowles answered, ôJim, yOu going manual or auto-
matic?ö    - -
    ôDonÆt know yet.ö Automatic firing was quicker, possibly more certainùbut that mushy cutoff could bounce them like a pingpong ball. He steadied crosshairs on his autopilot display and read the answer: ôBlast
at five two oh feet. What do you get, Red?ö
    ôCheck.ö Bowles added, ôThatÆs less than three seconds blast, Jim. Better make it automatic.ö
    ôTend to your knitting.ö
    ôMy mistake.ö
    Nearly forty seconds passed and they had fallen to eleven thousand feet before he decided. ôPower plant, set for manual landing. Co-pilot, cover me at five hun
    dred feet.ö    --    - -
    ôJim, thatÆs too late,ö Bowles protested.
    ôYou will be covering me all of a tenth of a second
-    after I should fire.ö -
    Bowles subsided. Barnes grabbed a glance at the TV screen; the ground under them seemed level and there was no perceptible drift. He looked back at his board. ôCorrectionùcover at five ten.ö
ôFive tenùright.ö
The seconds clicked past; he had his finger poised over
the button when Bowles shouted, ôJimùlook at the screen!ö
    He looked upùthe Luna, still carrying a trifle of drift, was now over a long crack, or riMùand they were about to land in it.
    Barnes jabbed the button.
    He let up at once; the Luna coughed to silence. The rill, canyon, or crevasse was still in sight but no longer centered. ôCo-pilotùnew prediction!ö
    ôWhat happened?ö Corley demanded. -
    ôQuiet!ö    -
    ôPrediction,ö Bowles chanted, ôblast æatùat three
nine oh.ö    -
    Barnes was adjusting verniers for his own prediction as Bowles reported. ôCheck,ö he answered. ôCover at three seven oh.ö He threw one glance at the TV screen. The crevasse was toward the edge of the screen; the
ground below looked fairly smooth. Unquestionably the ship had a slight drift. All he could do was hope that the gyros would -keep them from toppling. ôBrace for crash!ö
480ù450ù400ù He jabbed the button.
    The terrible pressure -shoved his bead back; be lost sight of the altimeter. He caught it againù 190ù150ù -
125ù At ôfiftyö he snatched his finger away and prayed.
    The jet cut off sloppily as always. A - grinding jar slammed him more deeply into the cushions The ship lurched like an unsteady topùand stayed upright.
    Barnes found that he had been - holding his breath a long time. -

VIII    -

Columbus found -a pleasant climate rich land
docile natives. Nowhere in our System did
explorers find conditions friendly to menùand
- nowhere was this more brutally true than on our nearest neighbor.
    -    Farquharson, Ibid., III: 420

Barnes felt dazed, as if wakening from a confusing
dream. BowlesÆ voice recalled him to the present. ôJacks are down, skipper. Unclutch the gyros?ö
    He pulled himself together. ôCheck our footing first. IÆllùSay! WeÆre on the Moon!ö Frantically he unstrapped.
    ôWe sure are!ö answered Bowles. ôA fine landing, Jim. I was scared.ö
    ôIt was terrible, and you know it.ö - -
    ôWeÆre alive, arenÆt we? Never mindùwe made it.ö
    Corley interrupted them. ôPower plant secured.ö
    Barnes looked startled. ôOh, sure. Traub, your department okay?ö -
    Mannie answered weakly, ôI guess so. I think I fainted.ö - -
ôNonsense!ö Bowles reassured him. ôCome onùletÆs look.ö
    The four crowded at the portside port and stared out across an umber plain, baking under an unchecked sun, now not far from zenith. Miles away, jutting up into black, star-studded sky, were the peaks they had seen. In the middle distance was a single pock mark, a crater a æmile or less across. Nothing else broke the flat desolation
-.    . . endless, lifeless waste, vacuum sharp and kiln dry.
    Traub broke the silence with an awed whisper. ôGosh, what a place! How long do we stay, Mr. Barnes?ö
    ôNot long, Mannie.ö He tried to make his words carry conviction. ôDoe,ö he went on, ôletÆs check the mass ratio.ö - - -
    ôOkay, Jim.ö
    Bowles went to the starboard port; one glance through it and he sang out, ôHeyùsee this.ö
    They joined him. Below was the dark chasm in which
they had almost landed. It ran close to the ship; one jack almost touched the edge. Barnes looked - down into its awesome depths and felt no regret about expending mass to avoid it. - -. -
    Bowles stared at it. ôI repeat, Jim,- a fine landing.ö -
    ôToo close for comfort.ö
    Bowles pushed his face to the quartz and tried to see - farther æto right and left. ôIÆm turned around,ö he complained. ôWhich way is Earth?ö - - -
    ôEarth is east, of course,ö Corley -answered. -
    ôWhich way is east?ö
    ôMan, you certainly are confused. East is out the other port.ö
    ôBut it canÆt be. We looked out there first and Earth wasnÆt in sight.ö Bowles crossed back to the other port.
ôSee?ö    - -
    Corley joined him. ôThatÆs east,ö he stated. ôLook at the stars.ö - - -
    Bowles looked. ôBut something is screwy. I saw Earth before we landed, in the screen. You saw it, didnÆt you, Jim?ö -
    ôYes, I saw it.ö
    ôYou; Doe?ö -
    ôI was too busy. How high was it?ö
    ôJust rising. But I saw it.ö -
    Corley looked at the sky, then at the mountains. ôSure, you did. And itÆs thereùback of those mountains.ö
    Barnes whistled tonelessly. ôThatÆs it. IÆve landed us a few miles too short.ö
    Bowles looked whipped. ôOut of line-of-sight,ö he said dully. ôI could claim it until hell freezesùand I canÆt get the message back.ö ù -
    Traub looked startled. ôWeÆre cut off from Earth? But I saw it, too.ö - - -
    ôSure, you did,ö agreed Barnes, ôyou saw it while we had altitude. Now weÆre down too low.ö
    ôOh.ö Traub looked out. ôBut it isnÆt serious, is it?
Earth is back of those mountainsùbut itÆs in the east; it will rise after a bit. How fast does the Moon turn? Twenty-eight days and something?ö
Barnes turned to Corley. ôYou tell him, Doe.ö
    ôMannieùthe Earth doesnÆt rise or set.ö
    ôHuh?ö    -
    ôThe Moon keeps the same face to the Earth all the time. From any one spot, the Earth doesnÆt move; it just hangs.ö
    ôHuh?ö Traub raised his hands, stared at them; it could be seen that he was visualizing it, using his fists for Earth and Moon. ôOhùI get it.ö He looked dismayed. ôSay, thatÆs bad. ThatÆs really bad.ö
    ôSnap out of it, Mannie,ö Barnes said quickly. ôIf we
ò    canÆt contact Earth, weÆll just have to wait until we get back.ö He said nothing about his own fears.
    Bowles smashed a fist into a palm. ôWeÆve got to contact Earth! It doesnÆt matter whether we get back; four casualties is cheap. But to get a message through
nowùthis message, that a United States vessel has landed and taken possessionùcan mean the salvation of the United States.ö He turned to Corley. ôDoctor, we have enough power to - lift us over those mountains,~ havenÆt we?ö
    ôEh? Why, yes.ö
ôThen letÆs do itùnow.ö He turned toward his couch. ôHold it, Red!ö Bowles stopped; Barnes went on, ôIf
we make one lift and drop, to near those mountains, you know what that does to our chances of getting back.ö
    ôOf course! ItÆs not important; we owe it to our country.ö
    ôMaybe so. Maybe not.ö Barnes paused. ôIf it turns out that we donÆt have enough juice left to break free of
-    the Moon, IÆll concede your point.ö -
    ôJim Barnes, we canÆt consider ourselves against the safety of our country.ö
    ôSpeak for yourself, Red. Conceded that a claim to the Moon might help out the State Department this weekù again it might not. It might stimulate Russia into going all out for space travel while the United States stumbles along as before, proud that we claimed it, but unwilling to spend real money to make it stick.ö
ôJim, thatÆs sophistry.ö    -
    ôSo? ThatÆs my decision. WeÆll try everything else first. You donÆt know you canÆt get a message through. Why donÆt you try?ö
    ôWhen weÆre not in line-of-sight? DonÆt be silly.ö
    ôEarth is not far down behind those mountains. Find a place that is line-of-sight.ö
    ôOh. Now you make sense.ö Bowles looked-out at the mountains. ôI wonder how far away they are?ö
    ôTell you in a moment,ö Traub offered. ôWait till I swing the soup bowl around.-ö He started for his couch.
    ôNever mind, Mannie!ö put in Barnes. ôNoùgo ahead. It wonÆt hurt- to know. But I wasnÆt talking about the mountains, Red. They are too - far away. But if you scout around, you may find a spot from which the mountains are low enough to let you see Earth. Or you might find some hillsùwe canÆt see all around from inside here. Mannie, is it possible to take out the radio and use it outside the ship?ö -
    ôOutside? Let me seeù The transmitter is unpressurized; I guess I could jigger it. How about power?ö
    Bowles said, ôDoe, how much cable can we dig up?ö Barnes cut in, ôFind your spot, then weÆll see whatÆs needed.ö
    ôRight! Jim, IÆll go out at once. Mannie, come with me and weÆll find a spot.ö
    ôOutside?ö Traub said blankly.    -
    ôSure. DonÆt you want to be the first man to set foot on the Moon?ö
    ôUh, I guess so.ö Traub peered out at the blazing unfriendly surface.
    Corley got an odd look; Barnes noted it and said, ôOne moment, Red. Doe is entitled to the honor of being first. After all, the Corley engine made it possible.ö
ôOh, sure! Doe can be first down the ladder. LetÆs all go.ö
    ôIÆll go later,ö Barnes decided. ôIÆve got work to do.ö
    ôAs you wish. Come on, Doe.ö -
    Corley looked shy. ôOh, I donÆt have to be first. We all did it, together.ö
    ôDonÆt be modest. Into our suitsùletÆs go!ö Thoughts of military policy seemed to have left BowlesÆ mind; he was for the moment boyishly eager for adventure. He was already undogging the hatch that led down into the æairlock.

Barnes helped them dress. The suits were modifications of high-altitude pressure suits used by jet pilotsùcumbersome, all-enclosing skins not unlike diving suits and topped off with ôgoldfish bowlö helmets. The helmets were silvered except for the face plates; a walkie-talkie
radio, two oxygen bottles, and an instrument belt completed the main features of a suit. When they were dressed but not helmeted, Barnes said, ôStay in sight of the ship and each other. Red, when you shift from tank one to tank two, git for home and donÆt dawdle.ö -
    ôAye aye.ö
    ôIÆm going now.ö He gasketed their helmets, leaving C≤rley to the last. To him he said softly, ôDonÆt stay long.
ò I need you.ö
    Corley nodded. Barnes fastened the doctorÆs helmet,
-    then climbed up into the control room and closed the hatch. Corley waited until Barnes was clear, then said, ôCheck radios. Check instruments.ö
    ôOkay, Doctor,ö TraubÆs voice sounded in his earphones.
-    ôOkay here,ö added Bowles.
    ôReady for decompression?ö They assented; Corley touched a button near the door; there came a muted
whine of impellers. Gradually his suit began to lift and swell. The feeling was not new; he had practiced in their own vacuum chamber back at Mojave. Hτ wondered how Traub felt; tbe first experieilce with trusting a Rube Goldberg skin could be frightening. ôHow are you doing, Mannie?ö
    ôAll right.ö
    ôThe first time seems odd, I know.ö
    ôBut itÆs not the first time,ö Traub answered. ôI checked these walkie-talkies in the chamber at the job.ö
    ôIf yOu gentlemen are through chatting,ö Bowles cut in, ôyouÆll note that the tell-tale reads ævacuum.ö
    ôEh?ö Corley turned and undogged the outer door.
    He stood in the door, gazing north. The aching, sun-drenched plain stretched to a black horizon. On his right, knife sharp in the airless moonscape, was the wall of mountains they had grounded to avoid. He lifted his eyes and made out the Big Dipper, midnight clear above a dazzling, noonday desert. -
    Bowles touched his arm. ôOne side, Doc. IÆll rig the ladder.ö - -
    ôSorry.ö -
    Bowles linked the ends of a rope ladder to hooks outside the door. Finished, he kicked the ladder out. ôGo ahead, Doe.ö - -
    ôUh, thanks.ö Corley felt for the first rung. It was a clumsy business in the pressure suit. Finally he knelt, grasped the threshold, got a toe in and started down.
    It was awkward, rather than hard work. Suit and all, he weighed less than forty pounds. He found it easier to lower himself by his hands alone. He could not see below his chin, but the shape of the ship let him know his progress. Finally he was even with the jets. He lowered himself a bit more, felt for the groundùand kicked his toe into the lunar soil.
    Then he was standing on it.
    He stood there a moment, his heart pounding. He was trying to realize it, take it in, and found himself unable to
    do so. He had lived the moment too many thousands of -
times in too many years of dreams. It was still a dream. A foot brushed his shoulder; he stepped back to avoid
being stepped on by Traub. Soon Bowles joined them. ôSo this is it,ö the Admiral said inanely and turned slowly around. ôLook,-Mannie! Hills! Not far away.ö
    Corley saw that Bowles was looking under the jets to the south. The plain was broken there with a sharp eruption of rock. Corley touched BowlesÆ arm. ôLetÆs get away from the ship. Here where the jets splashed is probably a bit radioactive.ö
    ôOkay.ö Bowles followed him; Traub brought up the
    rear.     -
        Ix
Columbus had one motive; Queen Isabella had anotherù Farquharson, Ibid., III: 421

On climbing back into the control room Barnes did not immediately get to work. Instead he sat down and thought. For the lastùtwo days, was it? three days? four days, reallyùhe had had no chance to collect his thoughts, drop his public mask and invite his soul.
He felt unutterably weary.    He lifted his eyes to the mountains. There they stood,
    tall and forbidding, witnesses that he had accomplished his driving purpose. -
    To what end? To let Corley explore the dark outer reaches of science? To help Bowles insure the safety of western civilizationùor perhaps hasten a new crisis?
    Or to make orphans of four kids whose old man was ôa very domestic type guyö but could be shamed Into coming along?
    No, he knew it had been because Jimmy Barnes had been small for his age, clumsy with his fists, no decent
    - clothesùso he had to make more money, boss more
men, build faster planes than anyone else. He, James A. Barnes, had reached the Moon because he had never been sure of himself, -
    He wondered about MannieÆs kids and his stomach was a rock inside him. - - -
    He threw off the mood and went to the radio controls, keyed the walkie-talkie circuit and called out, ôThis is Jim Barnes, kiddies, coming to you by courtesy of æSLUMP,Æ the Super soap. Come in, come in, wherever you are!ö - - -
    ôJim!ö BowlesÆ voice came back. ôCome on out.ö
    ôLater,ö Barnes answered. ôWhereÆs Doe?ö
    ôRight here,ö Corley answered. ôI was just coming back.ö -
    ôGood,ö said Barnes. ôRed, IÆll leave this switched on. Sing out now and then.ö
    ôSure thing,ö Bowles agreed.
    Barnes went to the desk and -began toting up mass reserves. An orbit computation is complicated; calculating what it takes to pull free of a planet is simple; he had a rough answer in a few minutes. - -
ò    He ran his hand through his hair. He still needed that haircutùand no barbers on this block. He wondered if it were true that a manÆs hair continued to grow after his death. . -
    The hatch creaked and Corley climbed into the room. ôWhew!ö be said. ôItÆs good to get out of that suit. That sun is really hot.ö -
    ôWasnÆt the gas expansion enough to keep you cool?ö
    ôNot cool enough. Those suits are hard to get around
-    -- in, too, Jimùthey need a lot of engineering.ö
    ôTheyÆll get it,ö Barnes answered absently, ôbut reengineering this ship is more urgent. Not the Corley engine, Doe; the controls. They arenÆt delicate enough;ö
    ôI know,ö Corley admitted. ôThat poor cutoffùweÆll have to design a prediction for it into the autopilot, and use a feedback loop.ö
    Barnes nodded. ôYes, sure, after we get - backùand if
we get back.ö He tossed his fingers at the scientist. ôHum that through.ö -
    Corley glanced at it. ôI know.ö
ôRed wonÆt find a spot in line-of-sight with home; those mountains are infernally high. But I wanted him out of the wayùand Mannie. No use talking to Red, heÆs going to get a posthumous Congressional Medal if it kills himùand us too.ö
    Corley nodded. ôBut IÆm with him On trying to contact Earth; I need it worse than he does.ö
    ôHastings?ö -
    ôYes. Jim, if we had enough margin, we could blast off and correct after radio contact. We havenÆt; if we get off at all it will be close.ö
    ôI know. I spent our ticket home, when I made that extra blast.ö
    ôWhat good would it have done to have crashed? Forget it; I need Hastings. We need the best orbit possible.ö
    ôFat chance!ö
ôMaybe not. ThereÆs libration, you know.ö
    Barnes looked startled. ôMan, am I stupid!ö He went on eagerly, ôWhatÆs the situation now? Is Earth swinging up, or down?ö

The MoonÆs spin is steady, but its orbit speed is not; it moves, fastest when it is closest to Earth. The amount is slight, but it causes the Moon to appear to wobble each
ò month as if the Man-in-the-Moon were shaking his head. This moves the Earth to-and-fro in the lunar sky some seven degrees.
    Corley answered, ôItÆs risingùI think. As to whether it will rise enoughùwell, IÆll have to compute -EarthÆs position and then take some star sights.ö
    ôLetÆs get at it. Can I help?ö
Before Corley could reply BowlesÆ voice came over the speaker: ôHey! Jim!ö
    Barnes keyed the wallcie-talkies. ôYes, Red?ö
    ôWeÆre at the hills south of the ship. They might be high enough. I want to go behind them; there may be an easier place to climb.ö - -
    On the airless Moon, all radiorequires line-of-sightù yet Barnes hated to refuse a reasonable request. ôOkayù but donÆt take any chances.ö
    ôAye aye, Skipper.ö æ    Barnes turned to Corley. ôWe need the time anyhow.ö ôYes,ö Corley agreed. ôYou know, Jim, this isnÆt the way I imagined it. I donÆt mean the Moon itselfùjust wait until we get some pressurized buildings here and some decent pressure suits. But what I mean is what we find ourselves doing. I expected to cram. every minute with exploring and collecting specimens and gathering new data. Instead IÆll beat my brains out simply trying to get us back.ö
    ôWell, maybe youÆll have time laterùtoo much time.ö
    Corley grudged a smile. ôCould beùö
    He sketched out the relative positions of Earth and Moon, consulted tables. Presently he- looked up. ôWeÆre in luck. Earth will rise - nearly two and a half degrees before she swings back.ö
    ôIs that enough?ö    ôWeÆll see. Dig out the sextant, Jim.ö Barnes got it and Corley took it to the eastern port. He measured the elevations of three stars above the tops of the mountains. These he plotted on a chart and drew a line for the apparent horizon. Then he plotted EarthÆs position relative to those stars.
    ôFinicky business,ö he complained. ôBetter check me, Jim.Æ,
    ôI will. What do you get?ö
    ôWellùif I havenÆt dropped a decimal point, Earth will be up for a few hours anyway three days from now.ö
    Barnes grinned. ôWeÆll get a ticker-tape parade yet, Doe.ö -
    ôMaybe. LetÆs have another look at the ballistic situation first.ö -
BatnesÆ face sobered. -    -
    Corley worked for an hour, taking BarnesÆ approximation and turning it into something slightly better. At last he stopped. ôI donÆt know,ö he fretted. ôMaybe Hastings can trim it a little.ö - -
    ôDoe,ö Barnes answered, ôsuppose we jettison everything we can? I hate to say it, but thereÆs all that equipment you brought.ö
    ôWhat do you think IÆve been doing with these weight schedules? Theoretically the ship is stripped.ö
    ôOh. And itÆs still bad?ö -
    ôItÆs still bad.ö
    Bowles and Traub returned worn out and just short of sun stroke. The Admiral was unhappy; he had not been able to find any way to climb the hills: ôIÆll go back tomorrow,ö he said stoutly. ôI mean after weÆve eaten and slept.ö
    ôForget it,ö advised Barnes.
    ôWhat do you mean?ö
    ôWe are going to have line-of-sight from here.ö
ôEh? Repeat that.ö
    ôLibration,ö Barnes told him. ôDoe has already calculated it.ö
    BowlesÆ face showed delighted comprehension. Traub looked puzzled; Barnes explained it. - -
    ôSo you see,ö Barnes went on, 4ÆweÆll have a chance to send a message in about seventy hours.ö
    Bowles stood up, his fatigue forgotten. ôThatÆs all we
ò - need!ö He pounded his palm exultantly.
    ôSlow down, Red,ö Barnes advised, ôour chances of taking off look worse than ever.ö
    ôSo?ö Bowles shrugged. ôItÆs not important.ö
    ôOh, for PeteÆs sake! Drop the Nathan Hale act. Have the commonÆ decency to give a thought to Mannie and his four kids.ö,,
    Bowles started to retort, stoppedùthen went on againÆ with dignity. ôJim, I didnÆt mean to annoy you. But I meant what I said. ItÆs not important to get back, as long
as our message gets through. Our mistakes will make it easier for the next expedition.- In a year the United States can have a dozen ships, better ships, on the Moon. Then no country would be-so foolhardy as to attack us. That is important; we arenÆt.ö
    He went on, ôEvery man dies; the group goes on. You
spoke of MannieÆs kids. You have no children, nor has -
Corley. Mannie hasùso I know he understands what I
mean better than you do.ö -He turned to Traub. ôWell, -
Mannie?ö
    Traub looked up, then dropped his eyes. ôRed is right, Mr. Barnes,ö he answered in a low voice, ôbut IÆd like to
-get home.ö
    Barnes bit his lip. ôLetÆs drop it,ö he said irritably. ôRed, you might rustle up some supper.ö

For three days, Earth time, they labored. Bowles and Barnes stripped the shipùcameras, empty oxygen bottles, their extra clothing, the many scientific instruments Corley had hoped to useùWilson cloud chamber, Geiger counter, a 12ö Schmidt camera and clock, still cameras, æthe autocamera, ultra- and infra-spectrographs, other instruments. Corley stayed at his desk, computing, checking, computing againùgetting the problem in the best possible shape to turn -over æto Hastings. Traub overhauled his radio and lined up his directional antenna to the exact orientation at which Earth would appear.
    The hour finally crept up to them. Traub, was in his couch at the radio controls while the rest crowded at the eastern port. What they needed to say had been made one message:
    A formal claim to the Moon, setting forth time and
ò place of landing, a long and technical message to Hastings, and finally code groups supplied by Bowles. Traub would send it all out as one, many times if necessary.
    ôI see it!ö It was Corley who claimed the distinction. Barnes stared at the spot. ôYour imagination, Doe; a highlight on the peaks.ö The sun was behind them,
ôafternoonö by local time; the mountains were bright in
    the east.    -
    Bowles put in, ôNo, Jim. ThereÆs something there.ö Barnes turned. ôStart sending!ö
    Traub closed his key.
The message was repeated, with listening in between, time after time. An arc of Earth slowly, terribly slowly, crept above the horizon. No answer came back, but they did not despair, so little of Earth was as yet in sight. Finally Barnes turned to Corley. ôWhat does that look like, Doe? The part we can see, I mean.ö
    Corley peered at it. ôCanÆt say. Too much cloud.ö
    ôIt looks like ocean. If so, we wonÆt get a jingle until itÆs higher.ö
    CorleyÆs face slowly became horror struck. ôWhatÆs the matter?ö demanded-Barnes.
ôGood griefi I forgot to figure the attitude.ö
    ôHuh?ö -

Corley did not answer. He jumped to the desk, grabbed the Nautical Almanac, started scribbling, stopped, and
drew a diagram of the positions of Earth, Sun, and Moon. On the circle representing the Earth he drew a line for the Greenwich meridian.
    Barnes leaned over him. ôWhy the panic?ö
ôThat is ocean, the Pacific Ocean.ö Bowles joinedÆ them. ôWhat about it?ö
ôDonÆt you see? Earth turns to the east; America is
ò -    moving awayùalready out of sight.ö Corley hurriedly consulted his earlier calculations. ôEarth reaches maximum elevation in about, uh, four hours and eight minutes. Then it drops back.ö
    Traub pushed up an earphone. ôCanÆt you guys shut up?ö he protested. ôIÆm trying to listen.ö
    Corley threw down his pencil. ôIt doesnÆt matter, Mannie. You arenÆt ever going to be in line-of-sight with
NAA.ö -
    ôHuh? What did you say?ö
    ôThe Earth is faced wrong. WeÆre seeing the Pacific Ocean now, then weÆll see Asia, Europe, and finally the Atlantic. By the time we should see the United States it will have dropped back of the mountains.ö -
    ôYou mean IÆm just wasting time?ö
    ôKeep sending, Mannie,ö Barnes said quietly, ôand keep listening. You may pick up -another station.ö
    Bowles shook his head. ôNot likely.ö
    ôWhy not? Hawaii may still be in sight. The Pearl Harbor station is powerfuLö
    ôProvided they have rigged a beam on us, same as
NAA.ö
    ôWell, keep trying, Mannie.ö
    Traub slipped his earphone back in place. Bowles went on, ôItÆs nothing to get excited about. WeÆll be picked up anywhere.ö He chuckled. ôSoviet stations will be listening to us shortly. They will be broadcasting denials at the same time stations in Australia are telling the world the truth.ö -
    Corley looked up. ôBut I wonÆt get to talk to Hastings!ö
    Bowles said very gently:
    ôAs I said, that isnÆt important in the long run.ö
    Barnes said, ôStow it, Red. DonÆt get downhearted, Doeùthere is a good chance that some other station will beam us. Keep trying, Mannie.ö
    ôWill you guys please shut up?ö
    He did keep trying over and over again; in the intervals he listened, not only to the beam frequencyÆofNAA, but all over the dial. -
    More than eight hours later the last faint arc of Earth had vanished. No one had thought to eat and Traub had not left his post for any purpose. -

They went on preparing to leave, but their hearts were not in it. Corley stayed at his desk,Æ except for snatches of sleep, trying to make up by effort for the lack of fine tools. He set the departure ahead to, give him more time.
The aching, cloudless lunar day wore on and the sun sank to the west. They planned to risk it just at sundown. It was admitted by Corleyùand by Barnes, who checked
his figuresùthat the situation theoretically did not permit success. By the book, they would rise, curve around the Moon, and approach the border where the fields of Earth and Moon balanceùbut they would never reach it; they would fall back and crash.
    It was also agreed, by everyone, that it was better to die trying than to wait for death. Bowles suggested that they wait a month until next sight of Earth, but arithmetic shut off that chance; they would not starve; they would not die of thirstùthey would suffocate.
    Bowles took it serenely; Traub lay in his bunk or moved like a zombie. Corley was a gray-faced automaton, buried in figures. Barnes became increasingly imtable. -

    As aÆsop to Corley, Bowles made desultory readings on the instruments Corley had not bad -time to use. Among
    the chores was developing the films taken on the flight across the back face. It had been agreed to keep them,
they weighed ounces only, and it was desirable to develop them to prevent fogging by stray radioactivity. Barnes assigned Traub the task, to keep him busy.
    Traub worked in the airlock, it being the only darkroom. Presently he came poking his head up through the
hatch. ôMr. Barnes?ö
    ôYes, Mannie?ö Barnes noted with satisfaction that Traub showed his first touch of animation since his
    ordeal.    -
    ôSee what you make of this.ö Traub handed him a negative. Barnes spread it against a port. ôSee those little round things? What are they?ö
    ôCraters, I guess.ö
    ôNo, these are craters. See the difference?ö
    Barnes tried to visualize what the negative would look like in positive. ôWhat do you think?ö
    ôWell, they look like hemispheres. Odd formation, huh?ö
    Barnes looked again. ôToo damned odd,ö he said slowly. ôMannie, letÆs have a æpunt.ö
    ôThereÆs no print paper, is there?ö
    ôYouÆre right; my error.ö
    Bowles joined them. ôWhatÆs the curiosity? Moon maidens?ö
    Barnes showed him. ôWhat do you make of those things?ö
    Bowles looked, and looked again. Finally he asked, ôMannie, how can we enlarge this?ö
    It took an hour to jury-rig a magic lantern, using a pilfered camera lens. They all gathered in the airlock and Traub switched on his improvised projector.
    Bowles said, ôFocus it, for cripesÆ sake.ö Traub did so. The images of his ôhemispheresö were reasonably distinct. They were six in number, arranged in a semicircle
ùand they were unnatural in appearance.
    Barnes peered at them. ôRedùyou were a bit late when you claimed this planet.öò
    Bowles said, ôHmmmùö Finally he emphatically added, ôConstructions.ö
    ôWait a minute,ö protested Corley. ôThey look artificial, but some very odd formations are natural.ö
    ôLook closer, Doe,ö Barnes advised. ôThere is no reasonable doubt. The question: were we a year or so late in claiming the Moon? Or millions of years?ö -
    ôEh?ö
    ôThose are pressure domes. Who built them? Moon people, long before history? Visiting Martians? Or Russians?ö
    Traub said, ôMr. Barnesùwhy not live Moon peo
ple?ö    -
    ôWhat? Take a walk outside.ö
    ôI donÆt see why not. As soon as I saw them I said, æThatÆs where those flying saucers came from a while back.ö
    ôMannie, there were no flying saucers. DonÆt kid
    yourself.ö    -
     Traub said, doggedly, ôI knew a man whoùö    -
ôùsaw one with his own eyes,ö Barnes finished.
ôForget it. ThatÆs our worryùthere. TheyÆre real. They show on l~tlm.ö -
    ôForget Martians, too,ö Bowles said gruffly, ôand any long-dead Moon people.ö
    ôI take it you go for Russians?ö Barnes commented. ôI simply know that those films must be in the hands of military intelligence as soon as possible.ö
    ôMilitary intelligence? Ah, yes, on Earthùa lovely thought.ö
    ôDon~t he sarcastic. I mean it.ö
ôSo do I.ö -    -

From willingness to die, his mission - accomplished, Bowles became frantic to live, -to get back. It made him bitter that he himself had insisted on landingùwith all-important new evidence even then latent in the ship.
He sweated out a possible scheme to get the films back to Washington and seized a time when Traub was out of the ship to propose it to Barnes. ôJimùcould you get this ship back by yourself?ö
    ôWhat do you mean?ö
    ôYou checked the figures. One man might make itùif the ship were lightened by the other three.ö
-ò Barnes looked angry. ôRed, thatÆs nonsense.ö ôAsk the others.ö
    ôNo!ö Barnes added, ôFour men came; four go backù or nobody does.ö
    ôWell, I can lighten ship, at least. ThatÆs my privilege.ö
    ôAny more such talk and itÆll be your privilege to be strapped down till takeoff!ö
    Bowles took BarnesÆ arm. ôThose films have got to
-    reach the Pentagon.ö
    ôQuit breathing in my face. WeÆll make it if we can. Have you anything left to jettison?ö
    ôJim, this ship gets back if I have to drag it.ö
    ôDrag it, then. Answer my question.ö
    ôIÆve got the clothes -I stand inùIÆll jettison them.ö Bowles looked around. ôJettison, he says. Jim Barnes, you call this ship stripped. By~ God, IÆll show you! WhereÆs that tool kit?ö
    ôTraub just took it outside along with other stuff.ö
    Bowles jumped to the microphone. ôMannie? Bring back the hacksaw; I need it!ö He turned to Barnes. ôIÆll show you how to strip ship. WhatÆs that radio doing there? Useless as a third leg. Why do I need an autopilot display? Yours is enough. Doeùget up off that stool!ö

Corley looked up from his closed world of figures. He had not even heard the row. ôEh? You called me?ö
    æ-æUp off that stoolùIÆm going to unbolt it from the deck.ö -
    Corley looked puzzled. ôCertainly, if you need it.ö He turned to Barnes. ôJim, these are the final figures.ö
    Barnes was watching Bowles. ôHold the figures, Doe. We may make a few revisions.ö

Under the drive of BowlesÆ will they stripped ship again, fighting against their deadline. Rationsùa/l rationsù men do not starve quickly. Radios. Duplicate instruments. Engineering instruments not utterly essential to blasting. The hot plate. Cupboards and doors, light fixtures and insulation; everything thatÆ could be hacksawed away or ripped out bodily. The ladder from control room to airlockùthat was kicked outlast, with three space suits and the rope ladder.
    Bowles found no way to get rid of the fourth pressure suit; he had to wear it to stay alive while he pushed out the last itemsùbut he found a way to minimize even that. He removed the instrument belt, the back pack, the air bottles, the insulating shoes, and stood there, gasping the air left in the suit, while the lock cycled from ôvacuumö to ôpressureö for the last time.
    Three hands reached down and pulled him through the hatch. ôStations!ö Barnes snapped. ôStand by to
    blast!ö    -
    They were waiting for the count off, when Traub reached up and touched BarnesÆ arm. ôSkipper?ö
    ôYes, Mannie?ö
Traub looked to see if the other two were noticing; they were not. ôAre we really going to make it?ö
    Barnes decided to be truthful. ôProbably not.ö He glanced at~ Bowles; the AdmiralÆs features were sunken; his false -teeth had gone with the rest. Barnes grinned warmly. ôBut weÆre sure going to give it a try!ö

The monument where the proud Luna once stood is pictured in every schoolroom. Many trips followed, some tragic, some not, before space
-    transportation reached its present safe operation. The spaceways are paved with the bodies and glorious hopes of pioneers. With accomplishment of their dream some of the romance has gone out of space.
Farqⁿharson, Ibid., Hi: 423