“Hi, skipper!” Slim Davis greeted Tom as he arrived. “We’re all set for take-off.”
Slim, a Swift test pilot and spaceman, had been alerted for the trip the previous evening, along with a crew of five.
Tom and Slim immediately boarded the
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hangar-deck elevator, to take them to the flight compartment. Tom took his place at the controls and Slim strapped himself into the copilot’s seat.
A quick instrument checkout followed. Then came the voice of George Billing, the Swifts’ radio chief, “All clear!”
Tom flicked on the repelatron and analyzer circuits. Lights flashed overhead on the element selector panel. A low hum filled the cabin as Tom fed power to the radiators. With a gentle whoosh, the Challenger lifted skyward.
“I’m setting our thrust for one G,” Tom said, pointing to the power dial as he tuned a control knob.
Slim nodded. He had been thoroughly briefed on the planned flight procedure. “I’ll watch our position for the halfway point.”
Soon the Challenger was soaring through the ionosphere into the black, star-twinkling void of outer space. Through the quartz-glass window they could see Tom’s space outpost-a glittering twelve-spoked wheel-floating in its steady orbit above the earth.
“Good cruise and happy landings!” the wheel’s radioman hailed them.
Tom grinned as he flicked on his mike. “We’ll send you a postcard from the moon!”
For an hour and a half the cruise continued smoothly. Slim watched the right-hand control board. This was studded with computer-fed 98 MEGASCOPE SPACE PROBER
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