Destination Moon Read online

  Corley glanced at it. "I know."

  "Red won't find a spot in line-of-sight with home; those mountains are infernally high. But I wanted him out of the way-and Mannie. No use talking to Red, he's going to get a posthumous Congressional Medal if it kills him-and us too."

  Corley nodded. "But I'm with him On trying to contact Earth; I need it worse than he does."

  "Hastings?"

  "Yes. Jim, if we had enough margin, we could blast off and correct after radio contact. We haven't; if we get off at all it will be close."

  "I know. I spent our ticket home, when I made that extra blast."

  "What good would it have done to have crashed? Forget it; I need Hastings. We need the best orbit possible."

  "Fat chance!"

  "Maybe not. There's libration, you know."

  Barnes looked startled. "Man, am I stupid!" He went on eagerly, "What's the situation now? Is Earth swinging up, or down?"

  The Moon's 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 • 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, "It's rising-I think. As to whether it will rise enough-well, I'll have to compute -- Earth's position and then take some star sights."

  "Let's get at it. Can I help?"

  Before Corley could reply Bowles' voice came over the speaker: "Hey! Jim!"

  Barnes keyed the wallcie-talkies. "Yes, Red?"

  "We're 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."

  On the airless Moon, all radiorequires line-of-sight -- yet Barnes hated to refuse a reasonable request. "Okay -- but don't take any chances."

  "Aye aye, Skipper." ' Barnes turned to Corley. "We need the time anyhow." "Yes," Corley agreed. "You know, Jim, this isn't the way I imagined it. I don't mean the Moon itself-just 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 I'll beat my brains out simply trying to get us back."

  "Well, maybe you'll have time later-too much time."

  Corley grudged a smile. "Could be -- "

  He sketched out the relative positions of Earth and Moon, consulted tables. Presently he -- looked up. "We're in luck. Earth will rise -- nearly two and a half degrees before she swings back."

  "Is that enough?" "We'll see. Dig out the sextant, Jim." 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 Earth's position relative to those stars.

  "Finicky business," he complained. "Better check me, Jim.',

  "I will. What do you get?"

  "Well-if I haven't dropped a decimal point, Earth will be up for a few hours anyway three days from now."

  Barnes grinned. "We'll get a ticker-tape parade yet, Doe."

  "Maybe. Let's have another look at the ballistic situation first."

  Batnes' face sobered. --

  Corley worked for an hour, taking Barnes' approximation and turning it into something slightly better. At last he stopped. "I don't know," he fretted. "Maybe Hastings can trim it a little."

  "Doe," Barnes answered, "suppose we jettison everything we can? I hate to say it, but there's all that equipment you brought."

  "What do you think I've been doing with these weight schedules? Theoretically the ship is stripped."

  "Oh. And it's still bad?"

  "It's still bad."

  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: "I'll go back tomorrow," he said stoutly. "I mean after we've eaten and slept."

  "Forget it," advised Barnes.

  "What do you mean?"

  "We are going to have line-of-sight from here."

  "Eh? Repeat that."

  "Libration," Barnes told him. "Doe has already calculated it."

  Bowles' face showed delighted comprehension. Traub looked puzzled; Barnes explained it. --

  "So you see," Barnes went on, 4'we'll have a chance to send a message in about seventy hours."

  Bowles stood up, his fatigue forgotten. "That's all we • -- need!" He pounded his palm exultantly.

  "Slow down, Red," Barnes advised, "our chances of taking off look worse than ever."

  "So?" Bowles shrugged. "It's not important."

  "Oh, for Pete's sake! Drop the Nathan Hale act. Have the common' decency to give a thought to Mannie and his four kids.",,

  Bowles started to retort, stopped-then went on again' with dignity. "Jim, I didn't mean to annoy you. But I meant what I said. It's 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 aren't."

  He went on, "Every man dies; the group goes on. You spoke of Mannie's kids. You have no children, nor has --

  Corley. Mannie has-so I know he understands what I mean better than you do."-- He turned to Traub. "Well, --

  Mannie?"

  Traub looked up, then dropped his eyes. "Red is right, Mr. Barnes," he answered in a low voice, "but I'd like to -- get home."

  Barnes bit his lip. "Let's drop it," he said irritably. "Red, you might rustle up some supper."

  For three days, Earth time, they labored. Bowles and Barnes stripped the ship-cameras, empty oxygen bottles, their extra clothing, the many scientific instruments Corley had hoped to use-Wilson cloud chamber, Geiger counter, a 12" Schmidt camera and clock, still cameras, 'the autocamera, ultra -- and infra-spectrographs, other instruments. Corley stayed at his desk, computing, checking, computing again-getting the problem in the best possible shape to turn -- over 'to 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 • 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.

  "I see it!" It was Corley who claimed the distinction. Barnes stared at the spot. "Your imagination, Doe; a highlight on the peaks." The sun was behind them,

  "afternoon" by local time; the mountains were bright in

  the east. --

  Bowles put in, "No, Jim. There's something there." Barnes turned. "Start sending!"

  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. "What does that look like, Doe? The part we can see, I mean."

  Corley peered at it. "Can't say. Too much cloud."

  "It looks like ocean. If so, we won't get a jingle until it's higher."

  Corley's face slowly became horror struck. "What's the matter?" demanded-Barnes.

  "Good griefi I forgot to figure the attitude."

  "Huh?"

  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. "Why the panic?"

  "That is ocean, the Pacific Ocean." Bowles joined' them. "What about it?"
r />   "Don't you see? Earth turns to the east; America is • -- moving away-already out of sight." Corley hurriedly consulted his earlier calculations. "Earth reaches maximum elevation in about, uh, four hours and eight minutes. Then it drops back."

  Traub pushed up an earphone. "Can't you guys shut up?" he protested. "I'm trying to listen."

  Corley threw down his pencil. "It doesn't matter, Mannie. You aren't ever going to be in line-of-sight with NAA."

  "Huh? What did you say?"

  "The Earth is faced wrong. We're seeing the Pacific Ocean now, then we'll see Asia, Europe, and finally the Atlantic. By the time we should see the United States it will have dropped back of the mountains."

  "You mean I'm just wasting time?"

  "Keep sending, Mannie," Barnes said quietly, "and keep listening. You may pick up -- another station."

  Bowles shook his head. "Not likely."

  "Why not? Hawaii may still be in sight. The Pearl Harbor station is powerfuL"

  "Provided they have rigged a beam on us, same as NAA."

  "Well, keep trying, Mannie."

  Traub slipped his earphone back in place. Bowles went on, "It's nothing to get excited about. We'll be picked up anywhere." He chuckled. "Soviet 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."

  Corley looked up. "But I won't get to talk to Hastings!"

  Bowles said very gently:

  "As I said, that isn't important in the long run."

  Barnes said, "Stow it, Red. Don't get downhearted, Doe-there is a good chance that some other station will beam us. Keep trying, Mannie."

  "Will you guys please shut up?"

  He did keep trying over and over again; in the intervals he listened, not only to the beam frequency'ofNAA, 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,' 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 Corley-and by Barnes, who checked his figures-that 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 balance-but 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 thirst-they 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 a'sop 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. "Mr. Barnes?"

  "Yes, Mannie?" Barnes noted with satisfaction that Traub showed his first touch of animation since his

  ordeal. --

  "See what you make of this." Traub handed him a negative. Barnes spread it against a port. "See those little round things? What are they?"

  "Craters, I guess."

  "No, these are craters. See the difference?"

  Barnes tried to visualize what the negative would look like in positive. "What do you think?"

  "Well, they look like hemispheres. Odd formation, huh?"

  Barnes looked again. "Too damned odd," he said slowly. "Mannie, let's have a 'punt."

  "There's no print paper, is there?"

  "You're right; my error."

  Bowles joined them. "What's the curiosity? Moon maidens?"

  Barnes showed him. "What do you make of those things?"

  Bowles looked, and looked again. Finally he asked, "Mannie, how can we enlarge this?"

  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, "Focus it, for cripes' sake." Traub did so. The images of his "hemispheres" were reasonably distinct. They were six in number, arranged in a semicircle -- and they were unnatural in appearance.

  Barnes peered at them. "Red-you were a bit late when you claimed this planet."•

  Bowles said, "Hmmm -- " Finally he emphatically added, "Constructions."

  "Wait a minute," protested Corley. "They look artificial, but some very odd formations are natural."

  "Look closer, Doe," Barnes advised. "There is no reasonable doubt. The question: were we a year or so late in claiming the Moon? Or millions of years?"

  "Eh?"

  "Those are pressure domes. Who built them? Moon people, long before history? Visiting Martians? Or Russians?"

  Traub said, "Mr. Barnes-why not live Moon peo ple?"

  "What? Take a walk outside."

  "I don't see why not. As soon as I saw them I said, 'That's where those flying saucers came from a while back."

  "Mannie, there were no flying saucers. Don't kid

  yourself."

  Traub said, doggedly, "I knew a man who -- "

  " -- saw one with his own eyes," Barnes finished.

  "Forget it. That's our worry-there. They're real. They show on l~tlm."

  "Forget Martians, too," Bowles said gruffly, "and any long-dead Moon people."

  "I take it you go for Russians?" Barnes commented. "I simply know that those films must be in the hands of military intelligence as soon as possible."

  "Military intelligence? Ah, yes, on Earth-a lovely thought."

  "Don~t he sarcastic. I mean it."

  "So do I."

  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 landing-with 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. "Jim-could you get this ship back by yourself?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "You checked the figures. One man might make it-if the ship were lightened by the other three."

  -- • Barnes looked angry. "Red, that's nonsense." "Ask the others."

  "No!" Barnes added, "Four men came; four go back -- or nobody does."

  "Well, I can lighten ship, at least. That's my privilege."

  "Any more such talk and it'll be your privilege to be strapped down till takeoff!"

  Bowles took Barnes' arm. "Those films have got to -- reach the Pentagon."

  "Quit breathing in my face. We'll make it if we can. Have you anything left to jettison?"

  "Jim, this ship gets back if I have to drag it."

  "Drag it, then. Answer my question."

  "I've got the clothes -- I stand in-I'll jettison them." Bowles looked around. "Jettison, he says. Jim Barnes, you call this ship stripped. By~ God, I'll show you! Where's that tool kit?"

  "Traub just took it outside along with other stuff."

  Bowles jumped to the microphone. "Mannie? Bring back the hacksaw; I need it!" He turned to Barnes. "I'll show you how to strip ship. What's that radio doing there? Useless as a third leg. Why do I need an autopilot display? Yours is enough. Doe-get up off that stool!"

  Corley looked up from his closed world of figures. He had
not even heard the row. "Eh? You called me?"

  ' -- 'Up off that stool-I'm going to unbolt it from the deck."

  Corley looked puzzled. "Certainly, if you need it." He turned to Barnes. "Jim, these are the final figures."

  Barnes was watching Bowles. "Hold the figures, Doe. We may make a few revisions."

  Under the drive of Bowles' will they stripped ship again, fighting against their deadline. Rations-a/l rations -- 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 that' could be hacksawed away or ripped out bodily. The ladder from control room to airlock-that 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 items-but 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 "vacuum" to "pressure" for the last time.

  Three hands reached down and pulled him through the hatch. "Stations!" Barnes snapped. "Stand by to

  blast!"

  They were waiting for the count off, when Traub reached up and touched Barnes' arm. "Skipper?"

  "Yes, Mannie?"

  Traub looked to see if the other two were noticing; they were not. "Are we really going to make it?"

  Barnes decided to be truthful. "Probably not." He glanced at~ Bowles; the Admiral's features were sunken; his false -- teeth had gone with the rest. Barnes grinned warmly. "But we're sure going to give it a try!"

  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.

  Farqüharson, Ibid., Hi: 423

  FB2 document info

  Document ID: f8827893-582a-42a9-83c4-172d70a6b5f7

  Document version: 1