Rocket to Luna

They ran because they knew that any one of those speeding pellets could rip through the fabric of their suits with heightening velocity. They ran because they knew that those meteors could kill as unerringly as a bullet.

The pumice continued to erupt into dull gray blossoms that noiselessly opened on the ground. Each eruption meant another spent meteor, another dangerous projectile that had missed the larger mark of the space-suited figures.

Ted fell flat on his face, rolling over instantly to the protection of an overhanging ledge. “Forbes!” he shouted. “This way!”

Forbes turned his helmeted head, located Ted and started running for the ledge.

His shriek split the silent night like the hoarse cry of a ghoul. He fell instantly, rolling over in a cloud of dust. The meteors plowed up the ground around him, biting at the dust like a swarm of angry hornets.

“Baker,” he bellowed. “Baker, for the love of...”

Ted leaped to his feet instantly, leaving the cover of the ledge and stepping into the deadly shower. He dropped down beside Forbes, wrapping his gloved hands around the fallen man’s ankles. Without hesitation, without looking down at the erupting pumice, he started to pull.

The shower was over before he reached the protection of the ledge.

Nothing had changed. The ground looked exactly the same. Nothing had disturbed the silence except the terrible yell that had wrenched itself from Forbes’s lips.

“Are you hit?” Ted asked.

“My... my... foot.” There was pain in Forbes’s voice. Then, with sudden awareness, he cried, “The cold, Baker. It’s...”

Frantically, Ted lifted Forbes’s right leg, examining the suit. He dropped the leg instantly and turned his scrutiny to the other leg. He found a hole no larger than a dime near Forbes’s left foot. He reached into his pouch quickly, pulling out a rubber patch. He fumbled with the back of the patch, Forbes writhing on the ground, oxygen and heat escaping through the hole in his suit. Quickly, Ted seized a pliers from his belt. He ripped a screw driver from its loop and pushed the patch against a rock with the flat blade as he pulled at the back with the pliers. The back ripped off under Ted’s pressure. Quickly he slapped the sticky side of the patch onto the hole in Forbes’s suit.

“You’re too late,” Forbes said. “My foot... I can’t feel anything any more.”

Ted bent down and studied the patch. It seemed to be securely in place, and he watched the trouser leg as it filled with oxygen. Forbes had been lucky, no matter what the damage to his foot. If there had been a hole big enough to cause an appreciable loss of pressure...

“Do you feel all right?” Ted asked.

“I’m all right.”

“Are you sure?”

“I think so. I just can’t feel anything in my left foot, that’s all.”

“The cold. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were frostbitten.”

“Yeah.” Forbes hesitated and then said, “Baker, thanks for pulling me out of there. I...”

“The shower was over anyway.” Ted said.

“Sure,” Forbes said. “Sure.”

“Can you walk?”

Forbes propped himself up with his elbows and tried to get to his feet. He let out a small, sharp cry, and then sank back to the pumice. “I don’t think so.”

Ted didn’t answer. He glanced up at the luminous chrono inside his helmet. 1534! Where had the time gone? Had they really covered so many miles? He was suddenly mindful of the oxygen pouring into his helmet. They’d have to get started if they wanted their supply to last them.

“I think we’d better get moving,” he said.

“Go ahead,” Forbes replied.

“Huh?”

“Get going.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean shove! I’m staying here.”

“What!”

“We’ve wasted enough time already, Baker. Get moving. That’s an order.”

Ted didn’t answer.

“You hear me, Baker?”

“I heard you.”

“Then what are you standing there like a totem pole for? Take the sled and beat it. Leave me a few cylinders of oxygen and beat it.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Ted said evenly.

“Look, Baker...”

“Look, Forbes, let’s cut it out,” Ted said, surprised to hear his own voice. “No matter what you think of me, I’m not leaving you here to freeze to death.”

“I won’t freeze. You can pick me up on the way back.”

“If I can find you.”

“You’ll find me. The Moon is a small place,” Forbes said.

“I’d rather not take the chance.” Ted reached down and wrapped one arm around Forbes’s back, tossing his arm over his own shoulder. He hooked the other arm under the man’s knees. He lifted him effortlessly, the light gravity in his favor.

“Put me down,” Forbes protested.

“Sure,” Ted said. “On the sled.”

“Are you crazy, Baker? You can’t tow the oxygen and me!”

“I can try.”

“Put me down! Put me down this minute! That’s an order, Baker.” He began to kick as Ted moved toward the sled. “Put me...” His voice trailed off into an almost inarticulate yelp of pain.

“Go easy with that foot,” Ted warned.

Forbes fell silent as Ted walked the rest of the distance to the sled. Ted lowered the lieutenant onto the oxygen cylinders, and Forbes sat up, his gloved hands gripping the tanks.