Gliding down in another small elevator on the ship’s portside, Tom pointed out the rooms which honeycombed the lower level. There were bunkrooms, living quarters, and galley. On the bottom deck were air and water storage and purification plants, auxiliary engine room, and a compartment housing the repelatron gear.
“My head’s spinning, genius boy!” Bud said. “With this layout, we could fly to another galaxy!”
“I’ll be satisfied if we make the moon.” Tom chuckled, adding, “If we do, we’ll have sure proof of the whole trip. I have a tape recorder aboard.”
Bud nodded approval, then asked, “Any more word from your space friends?”
“Not yet,” Tom said. “But a message may come any time, so let’s hope this space crate passes her first test.”
The boys bunked on the island that night. Both were so eager to try out Tom’s newest invention that they got little sleep. The next morning they drove in a jeep to the special launching area laid out for the spaceship. Mechanics were putting the final touches on the glistening monster, and an air of subdued excitement pervaded the base.
82 THE RACE TO THE MOON
“All set to go, Hank?” Tom asked the husky blond engineer. Groups of watching personnel stood around, tense and wide-eyed.
“You can take off in five minutes, skipper,” Hank reported.
The boys climbed up the accommodation ladder and entered the ship’s air lock. When they reached the flight compartment, a puzzled look swept over Bud’s face. “Hey, you’ve forgotten something, Tom!” he said.
“What’s that?”