X

DESTINATION MOON by Robert A Heinlein

“Never mind, Mannie!” put in Barnes. “No-go ahead. It won’t hurt — to know. But I wasn’t talking about the mountains, Red. They are too — far away. But if you scout around, you may find a spot from which the mountains are low enough to let you see Earth. Or you might find some hills-we can’t see all around from inside here. Mannie, is it possible to take out the radio and use it outside the ship?”

“Outside? Let me see — The transmitter is unpressurized; I guess I could jigger it. How about power?”

Bowles said, “Doe, how much cable can we dig up?” Barnes cut in, “Find your spot, then we’ll see what’s needed.”

“Right! Jim, I’ll go out at once. Mannie, come with me and we’ll find a spot.”

“Outside?” Traub said blankly. —

“Sure. Don’t you want to be the first man to set foot on the Moon?”

“Uh, I guess so.” Traub peered out at the blazing unfriendly surface.

Corley got an odd look; Barnes noted it and said, “One moment, Red. Doe is entitled to the honor of being first. After all, the Corley engine made it possible.”

“Oh, sure! Doe can be first down the ladder. Let’s all go.”

“I’ll go later,” Barnes decided. “I’ve got work to do.”

“As you wish. Come on, Doe.”

Corley looked shy. “Oh, I don’t have to be first. We all did it, together.”

“Don’t be modest. Into our suits-let’s go!” Thoughts of military policy seemed to have left Bowles’ mind; he was for the moment boyishly eager for adventure. He was already undogging the hatch that led down into the ‘airlock.

Barnes helped them dress. The suits were modifications of high-altitude pressure suits used by jet pilots-cumbersome, all-enclosing skins not unlike diving suits and topped off with “goldfish bowl” helmets. The helmets were silvered except for the face plates; a walkie-talkie radio, two oxygen bottles, and an instrument belt completed the main features of a suit. When they were dressed but not helmeted, Barnes said, “Stay in sight of the ship and each other. Red, when you shift from tank one to tank two, git for home and don’t dawdle.”

“Aye aye.”

“I’m going now.” He gasketed their helmets, leaving Córley to the last. To him he said softly, “Don’t stay long.

• I need you.”

Corley nodded. Barnes fastened the doctor’s helmet,

– then climbed up into the control room and closed the hatch. Corley waited until Barnes was clear, then said, “Check radios. Check instruments.”

“Okay, Doctor,” Traub’s voice sounded in his earphones.

– “Okay here,” added Bowles.

“Ready for decompression?” They assented; Corley touched a button near the door; there came a muted whine of impellers. Gradually his suit began to lift and swell. The feeling was not new; he had practiced in their own vacuum chamber back at Mojave. Hç wondered how Traub felt; tbe first experieilce with trusting a Rube Goldberg skin could be frightening. “How are you doing, Mannie?”

“All right.”

“The first time seems odd, I know.”

“But it’s not the first time,” Traub answered. “I checked these walkie-talkies in the chamber at the job.”

“If yOu gentlemen are through chatting,” Bowles cut in, “you’ll note that the tell-tale reads ‘vacuum.”

“Eh?” Corley turned and undogged the outer door.

He stood in the door, gazing north. The aching, sun-drenched plain stretched to a black horizon. On his right, knife sharp in the airless moonscape, was the wall of mountains they had grounded to avoid. He lifted his eyes and made out the Big Dipper, midnight clear above a dazzling, noonday desert. —

Bowles touched his arm. “One side, Doc. I’ll rig the ladder.”

“Sorry.”

Bowles linked the ends of a rope ladder to hooks outside the door. Finished, he kicked the ladder out. “Go ahead, Doe.”

“Uh, thanks.” Corley felt for the first rung. It was a clumsy business in the pressure suit. Finally he knelt, grasped the threshold, got a toe in and started down.

It was awkward, rather than hard work. Suit and all, he weighed less than forty pounds. He found it easier to lower himself by his hands alone. He could not see below his chin, but the shape of the ship let him know his progress. Finally he was even with the jets. He lowered himself a bit more, felt for the ground-and kicked his toe into the lunar soil.

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Categories: Heinlein, Robert
curiosity: