“Suit yourself-but they won’t repeal the law of gravitation. Doe, let’s see how much juice we have left.” He glanced at a clock. “We’ve got an hour to make a decision. It will be almost half an hour before Earth is in sight again.”
“I don’t like the way she cuts off,” Corley complained. “Quit fretting. I used to have a car that sounded its horn every time I made a left turn.”
Bowles got a container of coffee, then joined Traub at the starboard port. They peered around the automatic camera and watched the moonscape slide past. “Rugged terrain,” Bowles remarked. —
Traub agreed. “There’s. better stuff going to waste in California.”
They continued to stare out. Presently Bowles turned in the air and slithered back to his acceleration couch.
“Traub!”
– Mannie came to the desk. “Mannie,” Barnes said, pointing at a lunar map, “we figure to land spang in the middle of the Earthside face-that dark spot, Sinus Medii. It’s a plain.”
“You figure to land, then?”
“It’s up to you, Mannie. But you’ll have to make up your mind. We’ll be there in about-uh, forty minutes.”
Traub looked troubled. “Look, chief, you
shouldn’t — ”
He was interrupted by Bowles’ voice. “Captain! We are closing, slowly.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. Altitude nineteen point three-correction: point two…closing.”
“Acceleration stations!”
Barnes was diving toward his couch as he shouted.
Traub and Corley followed him. As he strapped down
Barnes called out, “Co-pilot-get a contact prediction.
All hands, stand by for maneuvers.” He studied his own board. He could not doubt it; they were in something less
than a perfect circle.
He was trying to make a prediction from his display when Bowles reported, “I make it contact in nine minutes, Captain, plus or minus a minute.”
Barnes concentrated. The radar track was jiggling as much as five or ten percent, because of mountains below them; the prediction line was a broad band. As near as he could tell, Bowles was right.
“What now, Captain?” Bowles went on. “Shall I swing her to blast forward?” A slight nudge would speed up the ship, in effect, lift her, permit her to fall — around the Moon rather than — curve down.
It would also waste reaction mass.
Nine minutes…nine hundred miles, about. He tried to figure how many minutes it would be until they raised Earth over the horizon, ahead. —
Seven — minutes, possibly-and Earth would be in sight. A landing at Sinus Medli was impossible but they still might land in sight of Earth without using more precious water to correct their orbit. “Mannie,” he. snapped, “we land in seven minntes-or we never land. Make up your mind.1”
Traub did not answer.
Barnes waited, while a minute coursed by. Finally he — said in a weary voice, “Co-pilot-swing to blast forward. All hands, prepare for departure.”
Traub suddenly spoke up. “That’s what we came for, wasn’t it? To land on the Moon? Well, let’s land the damn thing!”
Barnes caught his breath. “Good boy! Co-pilot, cancel that last. Steady ship for deceleration. Sing out when you see Earth.”
“Aye aye, sir!”
“There’s Earth!”
Barnes glanced up, saw, Terra pictured in the TV screen, rising behind a wall of mountains. Bówles went on, “Better land, Jim. You’ll never get over those moun — tains.”
Barnes did not argue; their altitude was barely three miles now. He shouted, “Stand by. Red, start swinging as soon as I cut off.”
“Right!”
— “Fire!” He stabbed the button. This maneuver was manual, intended only to stop their forward motion. He watched — his ground-speed radar while the — ship shivered-nine-tenths…seven…five…four.;. three…two…one…six-hundredths. He jerked his finger off just before it dropped to zero and prayed that a mushy cutoff would equal his anticipation
He started to shout to Bowles, but the ship was already swinging. — — —
Earth and the horizon swung up in the TV screen and out of sight. —
For a crawling ten seconds, while they fell straight down, the Luna crept into position for a tail-first landing. They were less than three miles up — now. Barnes shifted scale from miles to feet and started his prediction.
Bowles beat him to an answer. “Contact in seventy-two seconds, Skipper.”