Tom grinned. “You’re one of my top space hands.”
“Shucks! Thanks, Tom.” Chow gulped slightly and blushed with pride under his leathery tan. “I already got some good nourishin’ grub stewed up and packed in them newfangled toothpaste tubes you designed.
“But how about the drinks, Tom-like milk and cocoa and fruit juices?” Chow went on.
“We’ll take those in powder form. The only liquid will be water,” Tom said.
“We’ll take it in these new drinking bags I’ve had made up.”
164 COSMIC ASTRONAUTS
Tom reached into a locker under his workbench and pulled one out. It was made of elasticized plastic film with a drinking tube attached. “The bag will shrink in size as the liquid is sucked out-that’s to eliminate the air problem. I think it’ll do away with some of the spilling over and nosefuls we’ve been getting at Zero-G.”
At last the “sailing” space craft was complete. Tom inspected the craft thoroughly and ordered it transported to Fearing Island for its shakedown flight.
Early the next morning both the Swift and Newton families flew over from the mainland to watch the take-off.
Phyl, because she had sparked the idea of the cosmic keel, was given the honor of swinging a bottle wrapped in silver foil against the hull and naming the craft.
“I christen thee Cosmic Sailer!” she said proudly.
Handshakes and good-luck wishes followed. Then Tom, Bud, Chow, Felix Wong, and four picked crewmen climbed aboard and sealed the ship’s air-lock hatch behind them. Moments later, the eight astronauts lay strapped to acceleration couches.
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