Destination Moon

"What do you think I've been doing with these weight schedules? Theoretically the ship is stripped."

"Oh. And it's still bad?"

"It's still bad."

Bowles and Traub returned worn out and just short of sun stroke. The Admiral was unhappy; he had not been able to find any way to climb the hills: "I'll go back tomorrow," he said stoutly. "I mean after we've eaten and slept."

"Forget it," advised Barnes.

"What do you mean?"

"We are going to have line-of-sight from here."

"Eh? Repeat that."

"Libration," Barnes told him. "Doe has already calculated it."

Bowles' face showed delighted comprehension. Traub looked puzzled; Barnes explained it. --

"So you see," Barnes went on, 4'we'll have a chance to send a message in about seventy hours."

Bowles stood up, his fatigue forgotten. "That's all we • -- need!" He pounded his palm exultantly.

"Slow down, Red," Barnes advised, "our chances of taking off look worse than ever."

"So?" Bowles shrugged. "It's not important."

"Oh, for Pete's sake! Drop the Nathan Hale act. Have the common' decency to give a thought to Ma

Bowles started to retort, stopped-then went on again' with dignity. "Jim, I didn't mean to a

He went on, "Every man dies; the group goes on. You spoke of Ma

Corley. Ma

Ma

Traub looked up, then dropped his eyes. "Red is right, Mr. Barnes," he answered in a low voice, "but I'd like to -- get home."

Barnes bit his lip. "Let's drop it," he said irritably. "Red, you might rustle up some supper."

For three days, Earth time, they labored. Bowles and Barnes stripped the ship-cameras, empty oxygen bottles, their extra clothing, the many scientific instruments Corley had hoped to use-Wilson cloud chamber, Geiger counter, a 12" Schmidt camera and clock, still cameras, 'the autocamera, ultra -- and infra-spectrographs, other instruments. Corley stayed at his desk, computing, checking, computing again-getting the problem in the best possible shape to turn -- over 'to Hastings. Traub overhauled his radio and lined up his directional ante

The hour finally crept up to them. Traub, was in his couch at the radio controls while the rest crowded at the eastern port. What they needed to say had been made one message:

A formal claim to the Moon, setting forth time and • place of landing, a long and technical message to Hastings, and finally code groups supplied by Bowles. Traub would send it all out as one, many times if necessary.

"I see it!" It was Corley who claimed the distinction. Barnes stared at the spot. "Your imagination, Doe; a highlight on the peaks." The sun was behind them,

"afternoon" by local time; the mountains were bright in

the east. --

Bowles put in, "No, Jim. There's something there." Barnes turned. "Start sending!"

Traub closed his key.

The message was repeated, with listening in between, time after time. An arc of Earth slowly, terribly slowly, crept above the horizon. No answer came back, but they did not despair, so little of Earth was as yet in sight. Finally Barnes turned to Corley. "What does that look like, Doe? The part we can see, I mean."

Corley peered at it. "Can't say. Too much cloud."

"It looks like ocean. If so, we won't get a jingle until it's higher."

Corley's face slowly became horror struck. "What's the matter?" demanded-Barnes.

"Good griefi I forgot to figure the attitude."

"Huh?"

Corley did not answer. He jumped to the desk, grabbed the Nautical Almanac, started scribbling, stopped, and drew a diagram of the positions of Earth, Sun, and Moon. On the circle representing the Earth he drew a line for the Greenwich meridian.

Barnes leaned over him. "Why the panic?"

"That is ocean, the Pacific Ocean." Bowles joined' them. "What about it?"

"Don't you see? Earth turns to the east; America is • -- moving away-already out of sight." Corley hurriedly consulted his earlier calculations. "Earth reaches maximum elevation in about, uh, four hours and eight minutes. Then it drops back."

Traub pushed up an earphone. "Can't you guys shut up?" he protested. "I'm trying to listen."

Corley threw down his pencil. "It doesn't matter, Ma

"Huh? What did you say?"

"The Earth is faced wrong. We're seeing the Pacific Ocean now, then we'll see Asia, Europe, and finally the Atlantic. By the time we should see the United States it will have dropped back of the mountains."

"You mean I'm just wasting time?"

"Keep sending, Ma

Bowles shook his head. "Not likely."

"Why not? Hawaii may still be in sight. The Pearl Harbor station is powerfuL"

"Provided they have rigged a beam on us, same as NAA."

"Well, keep trying, Ma

Traub slipped his earphone back in place. Bowles went on, "It's nothing to get excited about. We'll be picked up anywhere." He chuckled. "Soviet stations will be listening to us shortly. They will be broadcasting denials at the same time stations in Australia are telling the world the truth."

Corley looked up. "But I won't get to talk to Hastings!"

Bowles said very gently:

"As I said, that isn't important in the long run."

Barnes said, "Stow it, Red. Don't get downhearted, Doe-there is a good chance that some other station will beam us. Keep trying, Ma

"Will you guys please shut up?"

He did keep trying over and over again; in the intervals he listened, not only to the beam frequency'ofNAA, but all over the dial. --

More than eight hours later the last faint arc of Earth had vanished. No one had thought to eat and Traub had not left his post for any purpose. --

They went on preparing to leave, but their hearts were not in it. Corley stayed at his desk,' except for snatches of sleep, trying to make up by effort for the lack of fine tools. He set the departure ahead to, give him more time.

The aching, cloudless lunar day wore on and the sun sank to the west. They pla

It was also agreed, by everyone, that it was better to die trying than to wait for death. Bowles suggested that they wait a month until next sight of Earth, but arithmetic shut off that chance; they would not starve; they would not die of thirst-they would suffocate.

Bowles took it serenely; Traub lay in his bunk or moved like a zombie. Corley was a gray-faced automaton, buried in figures. Barnes became increasingly imtable. --

As a'sop to Corley, Bowles made desultory readings on the instruments Corley had not bad -- time to use. Among

the chores was developing the films taken on the flight across the back face. It had been agreed to keep them, they weighed ounces only, and it was desirable to develop them to prevent fogging by stray radioactivity. Barnes assigned Traub the task, to keep him busy.