“Thanks, cobber, I might. Warning light! Deep breath!”
Suddenly was kicked by ten gee.
20
Our craft was ground-to-orbit ferry type used for manned satellites, for supplying F.N. ships in patrol orbit, and for passengers to and from pleasure-and-gambling satellites. She was carrying three passengers instead of forty, no cargo except three p-suits and a brass cannon (yes, silly toy was along; p-suits and Prof’s bang-bang were in Australia a week before we were) and good ship Lark had been stripped–total crew was skipper and a Cyborg pilot.
She was heavily overfueled.
We made (was told) normal approach on Elysium satellite . . . then suddenly scooted from orbital speed to escape speed, a change even more violent than liftoff.
This was scanned by F.N. Skytrack; we were commanded to stop and explain. I got this secondhand from Stu, self still recovering and enjoying luxury of no-gee with one strap to anchor. Prof was still out.
“So they want to know who we are and what we think we are doing,” Stu told me. “We told them that we were Chinese registry sky wagon Opening Lotus bound on an errand of mercy, to wit, rescuing those scientists marooned on the Moon, and gave our identification–as Opening Lotus.”
“How about transponder?”
“Mannie, if I got what I paid for, our transponder identified us as the Lark up to ten minutes ago. . . and now has I.D.’d us as the Lotus. Soon we will know. Just one ship is in position to get a missile off and it must blast us in”–he stopped to look–“another twenty-seven minutes according to the wired-up gentleman booting this bucket, or its chances of getting us are poor to zero. So if it worries you–if you have prayers to say or messages to send or whatever it is one does at such times–now is the time.”
“Think we ought to rouse Prof?”
“Let him sleep. Can you think of a better way to make jump than from peaceful sleep instantaneously into a cloud of radiant gas? Unless you know that he has religious necessities to attend to? He never struck me as a religious man, orthodoctrinally speaking.”
“He’s not. But if you have such duties, don’t let me keep you.”
“Thank you, I took care of what seemed necessary before we left ground. How about yourself, Mannie? I’m not much of a padre but I’ll do my best, if I can help. Any sins on your mind, old cobber? If you need to confess, I know quite a little about sin.”
Told him my needs did not run that way. Then did recall sins, some I cherished, and gave him a version more or less true. That reminded him of some of his own, which remind me– Zero time came and went before we ran out of sins. S LaJoie is a good person to spend last minutes with, even if don’t turn out to be last.
We had two days with naught to do but undergo drastic routines to keep us from carrying umpteen plagues to Luna. But didn’t mind shaking from induced chills and burning with fever; free fall was such a relief and was so happy to be going home.
Or almost happy– Prof asked what was troubling me,~ “Nothing,” I said. “Can’t wait to be home. But– Truth is, ashamed to show face after we’ve failed. Prof, what did we do wrong?”
“Failed, my boy?”
“Don’t see what else can call it. Asked to be recognized. Not what we got.”
“Manuel, I owe you an apology. You will recall Adam Selene’s projection of our chances just before we left home.” Stu was not in earshot but “Mike” was word we never used; was always “Adam Selene” for security.
“Certainly do! One in fifty-three. Then when we reached Earthside dropped to reeking one in hundred. What you guess it is now? One in thousand?”
“I’ve had new projections every few days. . .which is why I owe you an apology. The last, received just before we left, included the then-untested assumption that we would escape, get clear of Terra and home safely. Or that at least one of us three would make it, which is why Comrade Stu was summoned home, he having a Terran’s tolerance of high acceleration. Eight projections, in fact, ranging from three of us dead, through various combinations up to three surviving. Would you care to stake a few dollars on what that last projection is, setting a bracket and naming your own odds? I’ll give a hint. You are far too pessimistic.”