Rocket to Luna

“Dan!” Dr. Phelps cut in. “For the love of...” He clamped his mouth shut suddenly, as if he’d realized his outburst was as bad as Forbes’s. The cabin became silent, and Merola studied the faces grouped around the couch.

“All right,” he said at last, “what is it?”

“Nothing,” Dr. Phelps answered.

“What is it?” Merola repeated. He looked very tired.

“Maybe Baker should tell you,” Forbes said.

“Why don’t you tell me, Dan?”

“All right, George. We’re...”

“Dan!” Dr. Phelps snapped. “There’s no sense...”

“He’s got a right to know. He’s in command, and it’s his ship.”

There was silence again. Dr. Phelps shrugged in resignation. Forbes took a deep breath and said, “We’re about a thousand miles from the supplies. Baker took us down in the wrong spot.” He said it all in a rush, as if anxious to get it over with.

Merola considered the information for a moment, then scratched his head. “That’s not so good.”

“You can thank Baker,” Forbes said bitterly.

“I can thank Baker we’re still alive,” Merola snapped.

For an instant, both men stared at each other. Forbes licked his lips quickly, and a hurt expression flickered in his eyes and then was gone immediately.

Merola shook his head as if trying to clear it. “I’m sorry I shouted, Dan,” he said. “I guess I’m still a little groggy.”

“Sure,” Forbes answered. His face tried a smile that didn’t work.

“Can we get more supplies?” Merola asked.

“Maybe. The Station’s checking with Earth now. They’re going to call back in...” His eyes swept to the bulkhead chrono. “Holy crow, it’s time!”

He ran across the deck, forgetting the Moon’s gravity for a moment, and sailed across the cabin to collide with the viewport.

“Be careful,” Merola called, anxiety in his voice.

Forbes got to his feet and worked his shoulder. “I’m okay,” he said. He squeezed into the chair behind the transmitter and closed the knife switch.

The heavy gear hummed into the cabin, and Ted looked around at the faces of the other men.

Dr. Phelps was leaning against the support of the couch above Merola. His lips were pressed together, making his mouth look wider somehow than it was. His black brows were pulled together into a tight knot over his nose. He stroked his long, angular jaw and stared at Forbes fiddling with the dials.

Dr. Gehardt seemed to have retreated inside his coveralls, almost as if he were seeking refuge there. His shining pate poked out over the neck of the coveralls like a turtle’s emerging head. He rubbed the back of his hand across his small nose and wet his lips with the tip of his tongue.

Merola’s eyelids blinked rapidly as he lay back against the cushions. He tapped his fingers nervously against the side of the couch. His eyes were curiously serious. He stared at the bulkhead, not looking at anyone in the cabin, and yet Ted felt he knew everything that was going on around him — like some sort of electronic brain computing impulses of sound into meanings.

“It’ll be a while until this warms up,” Forbes said.

“Have you got any idea where we are?” Merola asked.

“Sure. Mare Crisium.”

Merola whistled softly. “That’s a far shout from Mare Imbrium.”

“Yeah.”

“Is it dark outside?”

“Yes,” Dr. Gehardt replied.

“That figures. It would be dark in Mare Crisium at this phase of the Moon. We’ll have to find out exactly how old the Moon’s day is. The Station should be able to help us on that.”

Forbes swung the chair around as a blast of static sounded from the receiver. He twisted a dial, lowering the volume. A voice suddenly intoned, “...ing Moon rocket. Come in, Moon rocket. Space Station calling Moon rocket. Come in, Moon rocket.”

“Hello, Space Station, this is Moon rocket standing by. Over.”

“I’ll make this quick because I don’t want you to use your batteries any more than you have to.” Ted recognized General Pepper’s voice, and he listened intently as the general went on. “I’ve contacted Earth, Forbes. There are no supply rockets available at present. Repeat, there are no supply rockets available at present. Have you got that?”

“Y-y-yes, sir.”

“Ask him how soon,” Merola prompted.

“How soon, sir?” Forbes repeated.

“I was coming to that, Forbes. You’ve got to understand that this is an unforeseen accident. The only supply rockets we had were sent to the Moon a long while ago. They’re waiting for you now in Mare Imbrium.”

“I understand that, sir. But...”

“We didn’t figure we’d need more rockets, and there simply aren’t any. You can understand that, can’t you, Forbes?”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a long pause, a static-filled interlude.

“Well, Forbes, I’ll give it to you straight. We’re starting some new rockets now, going full-speed-ahead on them. It’ll take time. A rocket has to be big to carry all the fuel you’ll need to get you back here. We’ll send a food rocket first, of course, but that’ll take time too.”

“How long, sir?”

“Six months.”

“What?” Merola shouted, leaning forward. He started to get out of the couch, and Dr. Phelps held him down. “Tell that egghead we need...”

“Can’t we have anything sooner, sir?” Forbes asked.