Rocket to Luna

“How the deuce do you propose we do that?” Merola stormed. “I thought you Academy guys...” He clamped his mouth shut in exasperation and then lowered his voice as he went on. “This ship is primed to go, Baker. We couldn’t stop blastoff if we wanted to. Suppose you start explaining this from the be...”

“I didn’t think you’d have the guts,” Forbes said suddenly. “I didn’t think you’d go through with it, Baker.”

For an instant, Ted didn’t realize Forbes was addressing him. He turned to face the lieutenant then and asked, “Sir?”

“Don’t give me the baby-blue-eyes treatment, Baker,” Forbes snapped. “Of all the filthy tricks, this takes the cake!”

“What are you talking about?” Merola asked.

“Our eager senior here,” Forbes said. His gray eyes flashed with unveiled anger. He gestured at Ted with his close-cropped blond head and said, “He’s sabotaged Jack and come aboard in his place!”

Ted’s mouth opened in surprise. “Why no, sir. That’s not it at all! Jack...”

“George,” Dr. Phelps called hurriedly. “The Station. They’re sending up a flare.”

Merola sidestepped Ted and shoved himself hastily to the viewport. A red flare arced high over the Station, like a spark leaping from the rim of a wheel. It burst in the sky like an opening red hand, its brilliance tinting the inside of the rocket.

“That’s a danger flare,” Merola said. He whirled from the viewport, facing Ted with a solemn look in his eyes.

“What does Dan mean, Baker?”

“I don’t know, sir. I didn’t come aboard in Jack’s place. I came here to tell you to stop blastoff. Sir, I...”

“Then what was all that talk this afternoon, Baker?” Forbes interrupted. “About wanting to do something you knew would hurt someone else? About it being as important as the Moon trip? I tried to tell myself I was wrong about you, Baker, but you proved I was right. The temptation proved to be too much, didn’t it?”

Panic rushed into Ted’s eyes. “Sir, I... I...” he stammered. “You... you’ve got to understand.”

“Attention, Moon rocket!” the bulkhead speaker blared. “Attention, Moon rocket!”

“Here it is now,” Merola said. “Maybe this’ll clear it up.”

“You have a stowaway,” the voice on the speaker said.

“No!” Ted shouted. “That’s not true. I didn’t...”

“You have a stowaway, Moon rocket. You have a stowaway.”

“All right, Baker,” Forbes said. “That confirms it.”

“Sir...”

Merola’s face was grim. “I’m a little disappointed in you, Baker. I thought... well, no matter.”

“What are we going to do, George?” Forbes asked.

“What can we do? He goes with us.”

“No,” Ted pleaded. “We can’t do that. I just wanted you to stop because Jack was hurt and...”

“You planned it this way, Baker,” Forbes said. “Why chicken out now?”

“I didn’t plan anything!” Ted shouted. He turned to the two doctors still lying on the couches. They stared at him incredulously. “Dr. Phelps, Dr. Gehardt,” he pleaded. “Won’t you listen to me?”

Dr. Phelps turned away, his silence more cutting than any words could have been.

Dr. Gehardt seemed to waver for a moment. He shook his head slowly then and said, “I remember on the trip to the Station, your talk about the Moon rocket.”

“But I didn’t mean...”

“Stand by for blastoff,” the bulkhead speaker warned.

“Captain Merola,” Ted said, “you’ve got to believe me. I didn’t want to come on the Moon trip. I was perfectly happy to stay at the Station.” He bit his lip, dangerously close to frustrated tears, holding them back before these older men.

“Then what are you doing here?” Merola asked.

“Jack was injured. I came to tell you.”

“Sure,” Forbes said. “You knocked him cold. You just admitted it a while ago.”

“No, not that,” Ted said. “He...”

“Zero minus two,” the speaker warned.

“Let’s get to the couches,” Merola said. “We can talk about this later.”

“But, Captain,” Ted started. “I...”

“Get to your couch, Baker,” Merola said, his voice stern.

“Zero minus one.”

“Wh-which couch, sir?”

“Above Dr. Gehardt. Snap to it!”

“Sir, I...”

“You’ve caused enough trouble already, Baker. If you foul up our blastoff, I’ll...”

“Fifty-five...”

“Let’s hop to it, George,” Forbes said.

“Fifty...”

Merola went quickly across the deck and piled into his couch. He swung the movable radar screen into place over his chest, began clicking toggles.

“I’m checked, Dan,” he said.

“Roger.”

“Thirty...”

“Are those the seconds the speaker is counting off?” Dr. Gehardt asked.

“Forward radar loud and clear,” Forbes called.

“Roger.”

“Twenty...”

Ted lay back on his couch, his fingers digging into the foam rubber. He didn’t want to be going to the Moon. He only wanted them to believe him. He wanted them to know he’d been telling the truth, that he’d only been thinking of...

“Port radar loud and clear.”

“Roger.”

“Starboard radar loud and clear.”

“Roger.”

“Ten...”

“Rear radar loud and clear.”

“Roger.”

“Stand by, Moon rocket. Nine, eight, seven, six, five...”